Elena and Pete arrived in Brooklyn in Pete's truck midday next day. They traced their way to Mancini Paperwork company, where they were redirected to the CEO's estate. The sun filled every inch of the sky now with a pale yellow glow, promising to finish up with a good day.
They got off the truck, strutting purposefully towards a large ornate iron gate, which was the only entrance into the imposing estate before them. Flanked by towering cypress trees. A big burly man, dressed in a striped shirt, dark trousers, and a straw hat, walked up to the gate. He had a shiny black pistol strapped to his belt, and was very conscious of it. He considered them with a bored expression. His eyes overworked and soulless.
"Who do you ask for, signora", the man said in an accent that was unmistakably Italian. His gaze shifted to rest entirely on Elena, his eyes roaming every inch of her lustfully.
"Take your eyes off me, you unrefined brute" Elena yelled at the big man, blanching under his hot stare.
"Is this the home of Mister Raphael Mancini? The CEO of Mancini Paperwork Corporation", Pete asked, his voice hostile.
The big man laughed with all his teeth. "What do you want with El Capitan?" he considered Pete once more, this time, very condescending. "Get away, Sciocco, Capitan doesn't deal with small fries like you."
"We are actually looking for Mister Harry Smith. His daughter wants to see him." Pete said.
The big man leaned away from the iron gate, standing upright, looking a bit startled. "You are here for signor Harry" the big man said, taking off his hat, in respect to Elena, suddenly kind.
Elena nodded her head in confirmation. "He is my father. I came all the way from Chicago to see him. We were supposed to meet yesterday at my graduation party, but he didn't show up.", Elena explained.
"Forgive me signora. I never knew you were signor Harry's daughter. Come in" he said, opening the gate wide enough for her to walk in. When Pete tried to move in after her, he pushed him back, shutting the gate rudely on him.
"Can you please let him in also. He is harmless" she asked gently. The big man considered Pete once more, his lanky frame did more to assure the big man that he was harmless, and he grudgingly let him in.
The big man walked her towards a winding cobblestone driveway leading past a shimmering lake stocked with rare koi, he said anxiously. "You have to hurry, Signora. Signor Harry is in big trouble. El Capitan recently found out he had been slowly stealing the family's money for more than fifteen years now, and Capitan is very angry. Whenever Capitan is angry, someone dies. Perhaps you can do something to help the signor. Signor Harry might be a thief, but he is a kind man. I don't want to see him go as cheap as this". The big man took off his hat again, dropped it onto his chest, and shook his head sadly at his last statement.
A wave of panic seized Elena. "Why should he be killed for stealing? Why can't your El Capitan, or whatever, hand him over to the police, and instead choose to commit murder." Pete yelled, his voice took a great nervous rise.
The big man laughed with all his teeth again. "Here in Brooklyn. The cops are nothing, sciocco. The two great Mafia families control the police. Mancinis and Cuzellas. The mayor and the police chief fatten from El Capitan's gifts. The only person that can get the police into action against El Capitan, is signor Andrea, the Cuzella's Don. Hurry inside, signora, and stop asking questions. Perhaps you can still save Signor Harry."
Elena didn't wait for him to finish, she was sprinting fast along the cobbled driveway, for the sprawling mansion that sat majestically in the heart of the great estate. Pete was hot on her heels. "Wait for me, Elena", he called out as he sprinted after her.
Elena ran into the mansion's foyer, racing over a staircase made of polished mahogany. She dropped into an opulent and luxuriously furnished living room. A number of men wearing striped shirts, dark trousers and had different kinds of gun strapped to their belts, just like the man at the gate, filed themselves on the opposite sides of the room. Some had on their straw hats, and some didn't. Elena recognized an older man on his knees in the center of the large room, with a bloodied face as her father, Harry Smith. Her eyes trailed to the handsome younger man, confident on a sectional just opposite her in the room, a leg settled over the other, and a gun dangling in his manicured fingers. She recognized him too, Asher's cousin. It was then the name struck her memory again, Raphael Mancini. He was a Mafia Don.
The lady's appearance in his living room seemed like magic to Raphael. He watched her silently as she remained transfixed in the doorway. His surprise hidden beneath the mask of placidity on his face. Then, for the second time, he was taken aback by her beauty. Her skin was tanned to complete warm gold, velvety and smooth. Her aristocratic nose was proportioned in a way that gave character to her face, and her wine-red lips radiated with a bewitching allure.
He had intended to get at her for her rudeness to him the other day, but was busy disciplining a thief. If there was anything he hated more than a rude lady, it was a traitor. Harry Smith had not only betrayed his family, but had also disrespected his family. For twenty years, while his father led the family, Harry had been systematically siphoning money from the family's purse to a private account, secretly and selfishly enriching himself with the Mancini wealth.
The lady got over her shock of seeing him. She ambled further into the room, moving as if walking on thin ice. Suddenly, she broke into a startled run to Harry, kneeling beside him. She carried her eyes carefully around the room, staring anxiously at everyone. The faces in the room seemed to give no assurance to her nerves.
"Dad, are you okay" she said to Harry, steering his bloodied face towards her. Her voice was soft and low, and full of concern. When she wasn't being spiteful, Raphael discovered, her voice was melodious, a song to the ear.
"You should have never come here, Elena. You shouldn't, just go. Go", Harry yelled at her, pushing her away.
"Your daughter came all the way from Chicago to find you in Brooklyn, after you abandoned her for twenty years, and all you could do is yell for her to go" the lanky youth said scornfully, his thin face crumbled in contempt and irritation at Harry, coming in after the lady. He looked scared, but kept up the pretense of looking tough.
Harry disregarded the youth, he pushed Elena further away from him. "Just go Elena while you still can. I will be fine", Harry yelled again. He stood up to push her when she wouldn't budge. He didn't achieve much. He was dead weak and tired, after a three-day hunger strike and some torture.
"I am not leaving, Dad, until you tell me what's happening here. I didn't come all the way from Chicago to be told to go back without an explanation about why you abandoned me and my mum for twenty good years and also why you missed my graduation party when you promised to come." Elena announced with vehemence, her eyes full of determination.
Raphael had watched enough of the scene to get the full idea of the situation. It was no coincidence that Elena and Harry shared the same surname. They were father and daughter.
"Signora, your father has been systematically and secretly milking my family of our hard-earned money for twenty years. He hasn't only stolen from us, he has also disrespected the entire Mancini family, taking us for a fool for twenty years. He must be punished for that.", Raphael said, jerking the gun in his hand playfully, and chuckling with secret merriment as her fear-laden eyes danced to the gun and to his face.
She heaved her shoulders with renewed courage. "That still doesn't warrant taking the law into your hands. You should hand him over to the police. He is still a suspect, until a judge declares him a criminal."
Raphael laughed at the ludicrousness of her statement. "That's not the way we handle things in Brooklyn, and that's definitely not the way we the Mancinis handle things, especially an issue that puts the family's reputation at risk. Besides, the police here work for me". Raphael leaned his back on the sofa. A mischievous smile crossed his lips. "But if you still wish to run this by a competent court and judge, then, for the sake of justice, I will allow it, signora."
He heard her heave a sigh of relief, and he grinned internally. Then he sat upright once again, forcing a regal look into his face. He dropped the gun beside him on the sofa. Elena watched him expectantly, her gaze centered on him.
Before he began, half of the room had already burst into a fit of sniffles and giggles, recovering abruptly after a comical, yet, murderous glare in their direction. Raphael began anyway, even when the surprise was near spoiled. "By the power vested in me by my father, Leonardo Mancini, the late Mayor of Brooklyn, I preside over the case of signor Harry Smith versus The Mancinis" he said, maintaining his regal and serious demeanor. "Having considered all the evidence and the arguments presented by me and I only, my court find signor Harry Smith guilty of the accused crime of defrauding the Mancini family. He is hereby sentenced to death". The moment he made his judgment, two of his toughest men, Lorenzo and Dante, rushed for Harry, whisking him roughly from the floor.
Elena screamed, dashing crazily in pursuit of the men. The lanky youth tried to make trouble for Lorenzo and Dante as they dragged Harry out of the room, but Martin, another of Raphael's toughest men, moved forward, and worked a punch with his enormous fist into the youth's nose. The boy went down fast like a felled tree. When the boy eventually recovered, he grabbed his bloodied nose, wailing in pain. Elena dashed back in as she had dashed out. She no longer looked scared, she looked determined, enraged and furious, her eyes were balls of azure fire.
"Free my dad, else, I will get the Police, the FBI and the whole of the United States crashing down on you. I studied at one of the most prestigious colleges in the country and I have made friends who are from powerful families", she yelled.
"So have I, signora. I have made deals with more powerful men, more than the days you have walked the earth", Raphael said calmly, not meaning to brag, but he wanted to let her know how powerful he was and that her threat was water to him.
Her eyes flared more. "Have your monkeys release my father, or you are looking at a lonely vacation in a federal penitentiary for murder."
Raphael made an easy laugh. He rose gently from the sofa, crossing to her. He didn't know why, strangely, he desired this woman before him more than he had ever desired any other woman. It wasn't about her beauty. It must be her fieriness maybe, or her confidence. No woman had ever stood up to challenge him as she had done before, and was doing now. He had always wanted a challenge. A woman he could gradually break to his will, not the ones that were easily smitten by his power, wealth and looks.
"To me, signora, that isn't a threat. No cop would dare investigate me or bang at my door. The police chiefs and the Mayor fatten themselves with my wealth. I am also deeply involved with some powerful elements in the FBI, and even if you managed to bring the daredevil ones down to my door, by then, your father would have been long dead, and his corpse fed to my dogs. Then whatever remains of my dogs' dinner would be thrown deep into the sea. The FBI wouldn't find a trace of your father, as they wouldn't find anything to even link me or my family to him. I can be quite meticulous about these things when I want to be."
Raphael watched her swallow hard as she considered his words, stung by the realization of the situation, yet, the fiery spark never left her eyes. It made him desire her more.
He slid closer to her, until he was almost a breath away from her back, savoring her lemony scents. He slipped his fingers into the silky length of her blond hair. "I will release your father only on one condition, signora" he whispered into her ear.
"And that is" her voice dropped some shades lower, betraying the fire in her eyes.
"That you sign a document that makes you entirely mine for two years", Raphael said.
She turned sharply to him, reeling him back a little. Her whole face contorted in shock. She perused his face, searching for the joke she thought he was making. She realized he was actually serious about the proposal, and gradually, the shock in her eyes died, replaced immediately by the previous fire.
"How about we make it just a year" she offered.
"Two," he returned.
"One," she was adamant.
He searched her face for a minute. No matter how fascinated and intrigued he was by her, one year was more than enough to be done with her. All his previous girlfriends had never lasted more than two months before they began to bore him. He didn't think she would be much different. Women only cared about power, wealth and looks, and he had them all. She wasn't exactly smitten by him, but she would be, she wouldn't be any different.
"One" he agreed with her.
The lanky youth raced into the room immediately, still cradling his bloodied nose in his hands. "You obviously are not thinking of considering this, Elena. Don't fall for the tricks of this fox", the youth yelled at Elena.
Raphael made a quick and silent motion of his hands. Instantly, his men were bundling the youth out of the room and out of the house. Raphael spied a line of tears spilling down Elena's cheeks as she watched his men drag the lanky youth roughly out of the room and down to the entrance gate. She brushed it away quickly, renewing the spark in her eyes.
"I have my own condition" Elena said, forcing steel into her voice, desperately trying not to sound defeated.
"And what is that?" Raphael inquired carefully.
"If I am able to make you fall in love with me before the expiration of our contract, you will cancel our contract and let me and my father go peacefully."
Raphael laughed almost cynically at her talk of him falling in love with her. "Deal. Deal Signora," he repeated. He was confident in his heart. He could never fall in love with any woman. It was impossible. Women to him are like liquor, meant to be tasted, savoured and then discarded.