Page 4 of Luciano (Belles & Mobsters 1)

Grace

Istared at the computer screen, smiling. It wasn’t the first time he had written me an email asking me to join his team. I assumed it was a mansince all his transaction codes came from profiler Ruthless King.

* * *

To:The Ghost

From: Ruthless King

You should takeme up on my offer. There are benefits to being on my payroll.

K

* * *

I chuckledas I typed my reply.

* * *

To:Ruthless King

From:The Ghost

No,thank you. I like being my own boss. I expect my fee to be transferred within 24 hours. Yes, I’m being generous giving you longer than anyone else.

P.S. I’moff to the beach. Don’t even think about bothering me for the rest of the day.

P.P.S. See,the perks of being my own boss. :-)

* * *

I pressedthe send button and smiled. It was sad that most of my social life consisted of talking to my two-year-old son, my best friend, and email correspondence with Ruthless King. That name should have caused me fear, but I found that after what Gabriella and I survived over the last four years, it didn’t. He was a faceless, nameless man that needed extra help laundering money. And that was where Gabriella and I came in.

I stretched my back, careful not to knock the laptop off my lap, and enjoyed the view of the sea that spread for miles and miles in front of me. It took my breath away every single time. Life was finally good. We have found the perfect little island with the population of less than four thousand people to settle in. The island fell under the region of Sicily but still had its own authenticity. Sicily was too big for us; this was perfect.

I had the people that were most important to me in my life, my son and Gabriella. She has been my best friend since boarding school. She was the sister I never had. After we escaped, the nightmare still wasn’t over for us. Taking the first flight out of the U.S., we lived on the run, constantly looking over our shoulders. We misjudged how long the money would last us. Within three months, we were broke, hungry and without a roof over our heads.

But we survived it all, and we were stronger now. We had our little routine going and the past seemed irrelevant. As if it happened to someone else, not me. Not us!

The day was beautiful. Every day was beautiful here. We’ve seen a lot over the last few years traveling, but Favignana in Sicily easily became my top favorite town. I could understand now why my husband’s father, Matteo Vitale, spoke about it so fondly. It truly was a little slice of heaven on this earth. Life was just different here - the slower-paced mentality and mild climate made it an appealing spot to settle in permanently. And ironically, it made me feel at home. Just like Matteo Vitale said it would.

We moved here nine months ago, after spending over two years constantly moving. This place lingered in the back of my mind from the moment we went on the run. Didn’t experts always say that hiding something in plain sight was most efficient? Besides, in some weird way the area that used to be home to Matteo Vitale and his young wife felt like an invisible cloak of protection.

So we found ourselves here, and I could see myself staying here forever. Except that I sucked at Italian. Matteo, my son, on the other hand, was soaking it up.

“Ella, are you ready?” I called out to my best friend, sticking to her nickname. She and my son, Matteo, were packing up toys like we were moving to the beach, not just walking less than hundred yards to it.

“Yes, grabbing the sunscreen and putting on a bathing suit. Then I’m all ready.”

“You are not even in a bathing suit?” I asked in a groan.

I went to shut my laptop down when my email pinged. Throwing a quick glance, I smiled. I knew he couldn’t resist.

* * *

To:The Ghost

From: Ruthless King

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