Page 1 of Captured Fantasy

CHAPTER ONE

COSIMO

(CW/TW & author’s note may be found at front of book.)

The house was painted bright white with green shutters and the front doors were wide open. There was a gathering of men and women in the foyer, all in black. The women hadn’t dressed down for the occasion. They just piled on black pearls, black heels, black hats decorated with ebony feathers. The men were stiff in their dark suits, black ties tucked beneath their vests.

The heels of my dress shoes clicked on the hot pavement. I’d missed the funeral, but I’d gotten to the repast early. On the wraparound porch, I circled around to the side and took a cigarette from my pocket. I’d been out late last night, dealing with a missing shipment of product. I needed a smoke before having to attend a tedious afternoon with the outfit.

“Didn’t see you earlier.”

I turned to find my closest friend, Amadeo, standing behind me. He was a lean man, about five years older than me, with a mild personality. He’d recently buried both of his parents and it hadn’t occurred to me until now how hard today must have been for him.

“You holding up?” I asked, passing him the lighter.

“Yeah, fucking sucks though.”

I nodded and we smoked in silence for a minute. Amadeo ran a hand over his face to clear the sweat.

“So did you end up going home with that girl last night?” Amadeo asked.

I shook my head. “By the time I got back she left with someone else. Gave me fucking blue balls though.”

Amadeo laughed and tapped his ash over the whitewashed railing. In the distance, cicadas whirred and the air conditioning kicked on inside. I was sweating inside my suit, slow trickles of it etching down between my shoulder blades.

The side door banged open and Lucien Esposito, underboss for the central territory in the city, stepped out. He worked with Amadeo more than I did because I was technically under my father, not Lucien. Unfortunately he was slated to get engaged to my sister someday, which gave me a lot of conflicting feelings.

On one hand, my parents treated Olivia horribly and she would probably be grateful when he finally took her away to be his wife. On the other hand, Lucien was the coldest motherfucker I’d ever met and his presence felt like a bucket of icy water down my back.

He sent us both a hard stare before holding his hand out for a cigarette. I passed him the pack and he selected one, putting it to his mouth and flicking the lighter.

“A well attended funeral,” Lucien said, his voice filling the space like a breath of frosted air. “I didn’t see you at the service, Cosimo.”

“I had to work late last night,” I said.

Lucien gazed at me impassively for a moment. I had a sudden urge to punch him in the face, to wipe the condescending stare away in one fell swoop. Amadeo ran his tongue over his teeth and leaned over the railing to spit on the ground. He ground his cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe and put it in his pocket.

“Hate to be rude, but I need to go,” he said.

“Me too,” I said.

I felt Lucien’s eyes on my back as I followed Amadeo into the house. I’d never been in the deceased’s home before. Gino Russo was the cousin of one of the underbosses, but he’d never been of particular importance to the outfit so I hadn’t paid much attention to him. I knew he’d been married twice, once as a young man, and again after his first wife passed away. He’d been shot when he was middle aged and apparently it gave him some nerve problems that prevented him from using a gun, so Romano retired him early. The only reason that everyone was at his funeral was that he was related to someone important.

Amadeo left to go find Federico, one of the other underbosses, and I found myself hovering on the edge of the crowd. I normally didn’t have a problem with outfit events, but funerals fucking depressed me.

I went to the bar behind the table covered in melting desserts. Even with air conditioning on, the house was boiling. I ordered a scotch on the rocks, which arrived watery and unsatisfying. Drink in hand, I wandered into the dining room.

The table was set with dozens of vases filled with flowers. In the heat, they were wilting, filling the room with a sickly smell. Beyond the dining room was the kitchen so I turned back around and headed through the hall, past a glass case of fine china, and out to the packed foyer. From the corner of my eye, I spotted my father talking to Aurelio Romano, the boss’s son, just outside the front door.

My relationship with my parents was decent at best. My father treated me like any underboss did his son—he hardened me up for a life of organized crime and encouraged me to be as promiscuous as I pleased. Which lately, was quite a lot. My mother bragged about her son to all her friends, but in private she ignored me. She seemed to think that the job of raising a son should rest solely on my father’s shoulders.

The last thing I wanted to do was get stuck talking with my father. I’d all but moved out of his house by the age of sixteen, although I still had a room there. I’d done everything in my power to disengage from my parents and I wasn’t about to get dragged back into my father’s bullshit today.

There was a dark oak staircase that began to the right of the front door and curved around to the upper level. I headed for it, making my way through the crowd, nodding to everyone I knew, but making it clear I didn’t have time to stop. In reality, I had no desire to. Breaking from the crowd of sweating, overdressed bodies, I darted up the stairs two at a time.

On the upper level, there was a bathroom to my left and I ducked inside and shut the door. It was a pleasant space with white walls, a set of yellow towels hanging behind the toilet, and a lavender scent warmer by the sink. The decor oozed warm, tasteful charm. There were clear signs of a woman, Gino’s wife, I assumed, everywhere.

I shrugged out of my jacket and dress shirt and laid them aside. My undershirt stuck to my back with sweat, the collar soaked. Wetting a hand towel in cold water, I wiped the sweat from my forehead and the back of my neck. My thick, black hair was cropped short on the sides and slightly longer on top. Right now it was damp at the temples.

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