Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Tristan “Hi,” Candace beams as I walk into the kitchen.

“Hey,” I answer backing off my jacket and slinging it over the chair. “It smells like heaven in here.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like the smell.” Her smile widens and she adds a dash of basil to the tomato sauce she’s making. “I thought I’d cook you boys something nice.”

I wanted to cook tonight because she’s been doing it every night this week. That’s why I got back a little early, deciding I’d cut my stake out short. There’s not much I can do in the evenings besides sit in my car and watch the house.

I’ve been watching the house the last few days to see if anymore guards would be coming. There are a few higher skilled members of the Circle of Shadows that could arrive. I want to have a heads up if that happens.

So far, it’s just been Dmitri and the other guard who seems to be the constant. At night Isabella has three more guards who keep watch outside the house.

“How about I help you cook?” I offer.

She shakes her head. “No. Tristan, you know these types of chores make me feel useful in some way.”

I lean against the counter and look at her with her hair in that fishtail braid. I remember her having her hair like that all the time when we were kids.

“You are useful in many ways.” I’m sure it’s a thing she’s heard several times, but she doesn’t believe it.

“Thank you for saying that. Means a lot.”

Her eyes twinkle and I hope the lightness means she’s getting better. I don’t know what happens to a person when they face true fear and can’t make it back to how they were before. What I know is it screws with who they’re supposed to become.

When she was fifteen her parents were killed right in front of her and she would have died too if Massimo hadn’t saved her. It happened during the time we were poor, but Pa took her in and looked after her the same way her parents looked after us.

Pa got Candace to have therapy, but I don’t know if it helped. I’d say it probably didn’t, or maybe it did in a way I can’t see.

“I like cooking for you guys. At least I know you’re having something healthy,” she says with a nod. “Or eating. Massimo just works all the time, and I can tell he misses Emelia.”

“Yeah.” She’s right. “Is he upstairs?”

“Yes, and on the phone. Sounded like he was talking to the Romanov brothers. I can always tell.

He sounds wary when he speaks to them.”

“I picked that up too.” I smirk.

“I know you did. Are … you okay?” she asks nervously and holds my gaze.

I tap the top of her head the way I used to when she was little. She’s not that girl anymore though.

Candace is now twenty-six and I’m thirty.

We’re a long way from being those kids who played in the meadows of Stormy Creek. We’ve been through life and it dealt us a cruel hand.

“I’m here, principessa,” I answer, and she gives me a kind smile. That’s what I used to call her.

“Tristan. I’m not a principessa anymore.” At least she’s laughing.

“You are,” I insist.

“Thank you. You do know calling me principessa isn’t the answer I’m looking for though right?”

“I know. Don’t worry about me,” I answer giving her a wink. She knows not to push. People like us who’ve been touched by the darkness of our world have an unspoken understanding between them.

But just to be on the safe side I think of something to change the subject. I really don’t want to talk about how I am. “Is it really me you want to find out about, or is there another D’Agostino brother?”

Her cheeks flush. “Dominic isn’t…” her voice trails off.

“What? You’ve liked him for a lifetime Candace Ricci.”

“He doesn’t see me that way, Tristan. I’m the little sister you guys never had. And it’s okay. It has to be. I think that’s why I’m here, Massimo needed me to be here. I think you did too. Dominic, is the one who never really needs anybody, but those are the people you have to take care of the most.”

I’m smiling but the worry that fills her eyes catches my attention and my smile recedes.

“I agree.”

“Tristan… I don’t like to overstep the line, but I’m the one who ends up seeing or feeling too much. Maybe I’ve watched him more than I should because of how I feel about him. But I think… I think something’s going on with Dominic,” she states and we just stare at each other.

I get the feeling she’s telling me this because she guessed that was something I picked up on too.

“What do you mean?”

She doesn’t get to answer, Dominic comes in and when he sees me a smile brightens his face.

“Hey guess what?” he beams.

“What?” I ask.

“I finished making it. Took me awhile to make something small enough to work, but I did it.”

“That’s great,” I answer.

“I’m gonna go check on Massimo,” Candace says and leaves us. I stare after her as she walks out and as she glances back at me it infuriates me that I never got to finish talking to her.

“Look,” Dominic says lifting a thin strip.

I take the strip and look at it, then look at him. This guy never ceases to amaze me.

“Looks like an invisible Band-Aid,” I muse. It kind of is with a little speck in the center that I’m guessing is the actual device.

“It’s exactly like that and it picks up any conversation within a one-mile radius,” he explains.

“The device works similar to the tracker in that you can tether it to her phone but I made it so you can tune into her specifically. You can attach this part to your ear and hear everything, controlling it through the same gadget. Now you can hear and track her.”

He hands me an earpiece and I take it.

“Wow, damn Dominic. You did it.” I’m impressed. “I guess it’s up to me now.”All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

“Yeah. The sooner you can get that on her, the better.”

Then I should see if I can get in her house tonight. Her bag is the best thing to use so it’s going to be better to aim to put the device in that.

“I’ll head out later.”

“Tonight?” he raises his brows.

“Yeah. It has to be tonight. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

Dominic nods.

I made it.

I’m inside Isabella’s house.

I can’t believe I made it in. It wasn’t easy getting past the guards outside. I had to go through the neighbor’s backyard to get into hers, then I hid by the pool house waiting for the guard watching the back to make his way around to the front. When he did, I got in through the back door. That got me in the living room where I was able to disconnect the security system.

The guard inside who I’d seen Isabella with the most was like a fucking hound. Ready for action and on the lookout. I barely got past him, and I think if I were anyone else, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. He started watching a wrestling match on tv and that helped to muffle any sound I made going up the wide staircase.

I’m upstairs now, trying to decide which of the rooms are hers. There are four room doors and a bathroom that looks like you could fit a spa inside it. One bedroom door is open and the room is clear. So, one of the three with closed doors are hers. The question is which one.

I try the furthest one and it’s not hers. It looks like a storage room. the one next to it is a walk-in wardrobe.

Instinct takes me to the door close to the stairs and there she is laying on the bed, fast asleep.

I go inside and close the door quietly.

Feeling like a thief in the night I move to her and watch the beauty sleeping. Still beautiful even in her deep sleep.

That platinum hair spills out around her and her soft plump lips would make any man imagine them around his cock. I won’t claim to be any different. And I won’t look away from the huge swells of her breasts either, or pretend I don’t notice the distinct points of her nipples pressing against her silk camisole.

She’s beautiful… incredibly beautiful. Beautiful enough to distract me from who she is and lure me to the fact of what she is.

The fact that she’s a woman. One that definitely got my attention from the second I saw her photo.

I was definitely not immune to her beauty or the force that lulled me to think with my dick.

She has that soft, ethereal appearance that could rival the angels. That mass of white blonde hair on her head, like a halo makes her look like one.

An angel… I could almost laugh at myself. Look at me staring at her like a freak.

I shouldn’t do this to myself. It doesn’t make any sense.

I’m an advocate of giving someone the benefit of the doubt and seeing past their father’s sins. Not when it comes to me though. She’s the exception.

My damn mind and body can try to screw me over, try to coerce me into thinking about her beauty and innocence, but this is one trip where I need to be focused.

On that thought I pick up her purse resting on the floor by the bed and secure the device inside the lining. It’s completely concealed.

I turn to leave but notice the origami flower I gave her resting on the nightstand. It’s just sitting near a magazine.

She kept it.

I stare on, then look from her to it and I get that feeling again. That human feeling of sentiment.

Suddenly I wonder if I can really take an innocent woman captive. Thinking about it and actually doing it are two different things. I’d be the same kind of bastard Mortimer was when he took Alyssa.

But an eye for an eye and a tooth for a fucking tooth. It’s as simple as that, and a matter of when I’m going to do it.

How and when.

I can hear everything that happens around her now.

So, it’s show time.