After my meal I head up to my room, in need of a shower. I strip and then head inside the bathroom, pressing a few dials before standing under the shower head.
Soon enough, icy water streams down my body. I barely even flinch at the sensation. The water streams down, dampening my hair and biting at the tension between my shoulder blades.
For a couple of minutes as I stand there, my thoughts run quiet and I don’t think.
But that never lasts, of course.
I run a towel through my wet hair as I exit the bathroom twenty minutes later. A quick glance at my bedside table reveals a buzzing phone and a thick file right beside it, both of which require my immediate attention.
But after the day I’ve had, I’m really not in the mood for work. I grab my phone, ignoring the call from Rachel, my paralegal, and switch it off entirely. After pulling on a robe, I step outside the bedroom.
The door shuts behind me with a soft click as I step into the living space of the glamorous penthouse I’ve been living in for the past few months. Ever since I left my father’s home in a blur of indignation and betrayal.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across the far wall, the city spilling out beneath them, and while it’s an amazing view, it does nothing to improve my current mood.
My heels sink slightly into the carpet as I cross the living space, the room open and expansive with neutral tones and clean lines. Everything is curated to suggest comfort without ever quite achieving it. At least not for me.
The kitchen gleams to my left, unused mostly. Stainless steel, polished stone. As beautiful as all of it is, it does nothing for the ache in my chest that hasn’t dwindled since I found out about my father’s involvement in the mafia. Since then it’s like I’ve been gliding over quicksand, wondering when and if I’m going to sink into the feelings I’ve kept at bay.
While I’ve been keeping a brave face, I know eventually I’ll have to deal with how it all makes me feel. My father, my best friend Valentina and her new family, and everything I’m going to do about it. But until then, I’ll stick around this penthouse, avoiding it all.
I take a seat at a glass desk in the corner and pull another thick case file from the stack. I go through this particular one every single day, almost religiously. It’s the file on the Vitales.
It has everything from financial records and registrations for seemingly legal companies, which I’m sure are simply used as a front for their illegal activities. And then there’s some evidence those illegal activities, paper companies, businesses whose books simply don’t add up.
It’s pretty clear there’s some franchises that are used for money laundering on a big scale. I’m sure what I know is only a tip of the iceberg. And that’s only the financial crimes.
There are also several surveillance pictures and videos of members of the mafia. They’re timestamped and serve as evidence that puts some of them at the scene of several murders.
I pick up one of the pictures. There are four men in it, standing side by side. Four of the most dangerous and important members of the Vitale mafia empire.
Four of the Vitale brothers. I’m pretty sure there are five, but I know nothing about the last one.
Which is almost in line with what I know about the other brothers. Next to nothing. They’re private, secretive, which makes sense considering what kind of business they partake in. The file I have contains their names and ages, schools they attended, and possible roles within the mafia.
Salvatore Vitale is the Don, the boss, and he’s also the man who got married to my best friend about a year ago. Raffaele Vitale stands beside him, there’s something almost feral about him compared to the rest of the brothers.
With the rest of the brothers, you could walk right past them on the street and have no idea what they are. Raffaele Vitale, however, looks like he walked right out of the underworld.
It’s the look in his eyes, almost rabid and completely upsetting. He’s also heavily tattooed which isn’t helping matters. Ink spills out from every inch of him that the light touches.
Elio Vitale is the youngest who graduated from Harvard not too long ago. He seems to be gearing up to be completely immersed in the family business. Which is a shame because he’s young and part of me feels like he could choose a better life away from all the crime and murder.
From the surveillance reports, he’s spent the last couple of months shadowing both the Don and Matteo Vitale, who is the last man in the picture.
I stare at him for longer than the others. He’s the one I know the most about. He might as well be the face of the Vitale empire. Thirty-four years old and a graduate of Wharton Business school,summa cum laudeif the rumors are to believed.
He’s the smartest of the brothers. The one who manages most of the businesses they use as a front for their illegal activities.
He’s somehow exactly what you’d expect from a member of the mafia, and yet the complete opposite at the same time. If Raffaele Vitale looks like he walked right out of the underworld, then Matteo Vitale might as well be the gatekeeper.
Like the rest of the Vitale men, he’s good looking in a way that makes it seems he was cut and molded with intentionality. Even from a picture, I can almost feel his intense dark gaze sweeping over me, scanning for weaknesses.
He stares straight forward, his jaw crisp and clean shaven. He’s in an expensive black Armani suit like the rest of them, with an even more expensive watch on his wrist.
I can’t help but feel like Matteo’s the most dangerous of them all. With the rest of them, you know where you stand, to a certain degree. Salvatore’s cards are easy enough to get at; he’s in charge. He’ll stop at nothing to protect his family. Raffaele’s abrute and it’s clear he’s the brother to avoid. Elio has yet to grow into his power or ruthlessness.
Matteo, however, possesses a quiet intelligence that makes it hard to guess at his motivations. One could be mistaken about who he really is and in doing so may unwittingly fall into a trap. He’s a leopard that can blend in, hiding his spots, and that makes him infinitely dangerous to me.
