I felt safe. And beautiful.
It’s odd how a total stranger made me feel complete.
I was the center of his world for a night.
It’s over now. The memory’s already starting to fade. I have the little marks to prove it all happened, but those are a problem too. I’ll have to sneak inside, cover them up, and hope Dad’s too distracted by work to ask questions.
This is going to be bad. Really, really bad.
And if given the choice, I’d do it all over again.
“Goodbye, Mass.” I pour myself some coffee into a random mug, throw it down, and hurry outside.
Figuring I’ll never see him again.
MASS
Most days, Scampia Island is a paradise. Temperate but warm with winds that cut through most of the worst humidity. I paid an obscene amount of money for this place, but it was worth every penny.
The original dream was for a private oasis away from the world. This was meant to be my escape. I worked hard all my life, killed, stole, plotted, and burned my way to the top. Scampia Island was meant to be a reward for all that.
Now it’s something else, mostly thanks to Lucy’s constant scheming.
“Three of the five families are here,” she says as we stroll along the walkway that connects the Fortress half of the island with the Resort. An overhang covers us from the morning sun. Behind us, an enormous wall with a checkpoint gate recedes into the distance, and ahead, the sumptuous Resort structure looms like paradise.
“Where are the others?”
“They sent representatives and made the appropriate apologies. You know how they can be. Zaza is trusted beyond a doubt, and Catania is solid. It’s these other three we need to be concerned about.”
“And Allie’s father?”
“Also in attendance. He left the sons home.”
“That’s good. We don’t need some idiot making trouble.”
Lucy glances at me. “You were young and restless once too, remember?”
“And I backed it up.” We reach the Resort’s back gate and are immediately ushered through with respectful nods from the guards.
The interior of the Resort looks like a high-end hotel. Marble floors and walls, rich tapestries and beautiful statues, priceless paintings and gorgeous mosaics. Quiet, friendly staff members keep to themselves as we stroll past, heading deeper into the building.
We don’t come across many guests. The Resort is quiet at the moment. It’s at half capacity at most, which is my preference. Lucy would pack it full every weekend if she could, but it’s better this way. The Resort needs to remain exclusive and mysterious; otherwise, the ultra-rich and extremely powerful elite members of society who come here will lose interest.
The Resort is a playground. Any pleasures imaginable can be found here. Drugs are openly used and offered. Orgies are common. Clothes are typically optional. Drug-fueled sex parties rage each night after guests gorge themselves on incredible multi-course meals.
All of this is paid for from my coffers.
I keep the best chefs, the greatest sex workers, and the most discreet staff possible. The Resort is heaven for anyone lucky enough to get invited.
Only those worth my time ever step foot through these doors.
And I absolutely hate it.
One day, I’m going to burn this place to the ground. I’m going to personally kill each and every single man and woman in this place, and I’m going to laugh as fire consumes millions of dollars’ worth of priceless art and artifacts. I don’t care if the inferno rages across my entire island.
I can’t wait to destroy everything about the Resort.
For now, it’s still useful as a way to curry favor and solidify alliances.
