Reputation

"I don't understand, wouldn't the deaths of the Giordano's help Salvatore? Why would he care about a few dollars if it meant getting rid of his rival?"

"Because the Sicilian's, citing betrayal, will take over their household and that's something Papa doesn't want. They would immediately be the head family here and everybody else would be forced to fall in line."

"So why tell?"

"It's pride. The Giordano's are the head family in the states. Right now, he's stealing from them to boost his ego but if you take that away..."

I shook my head. That's why greed and pride are two of the seven deadly sins. I didn't like my choices. I took a deep breath, "All right, all right, I'll keep it a secret, but you're the one that will be doing the scamming. I won't be a part it."

"Deal," she chuckled.

"On one condition." My eyes furrowed, "On the day Triela was being kidnapped, you forgot your keys so she left alone; that was planned, right?"

"I'm sorry about that too. What Papa wants, Papa gets." Janet tilted her head, "When did you start to suspect me?"

"When you told me that I got the account when I helped her against being kidnapped. How would you have known that?"

Janet shook her head. "You really are intelligent."

I smiled at the compliment. "So what did Salvatore want with Triela?"

"He was going to use her as a bargaining chip to try to be the head family."

What a hectic day loaded with chaotic information. I ran my hand through my hair and took a deep breath. "Why can't we all just get along?"

Janet whispered, "There is another way out of all this."

"And what's that?"

Janet stood, our closeness putting our faces mere inches apart. "I love you." She pecked my cheek. "If you choose me, then we can get away from all this. Papa won't care about me leaving and we can live a happy life together. And everyone lives."

I took a step away. "Janet, I'm flattered you think so highly of me but..."

Janet put her hand to my lips, "See, it makes me love you more. Just please, think about it." She let loose a small laugh. "It's almost morning, I'll see to it that you get a ride home. Giuseppe, Mario!"

Two men came in the room, one holding the black shroud from earlier. I rolled my eyes, "Seriously?"

"Sorry," Janet snickered as she left the room.

To my relief, I was chauffeured back to my place by a different driver. I was ecstatic that I was able to sit upright for the entirety of the trip. We came to a stop and I was pushed out of the van, my feet stumbling beneath me before I found my balance. I pulled off the shroud with just enough time to be able to smack the side of the grey vehicle once.

"Hey, this isn't my home!"

My words did nothing as the van sped away. I turned to face the building known as Windham Securities, my job, wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and a pair of boxers that had a sock in the pocket. Some of the early birds were strolling in and couldn't contain their amusement at my predicament. I weighed my options. I didn't have many. I could try to get home but without my wallet, I would be walking it. I could go wait in Janet's office, but that would require me to walk through the building and risk being fired - again. Or I could just put the shroud back on and try to hide in the bushes. I was tempted to do option three.

"Troy Miller, I need you to come with us to answer some questions."

I spun around quickly to the voice, finding two men. Both were equal in appearance - slightly above average height, black hair, black suits, sunglasses, and a look of intimidation. The only difference was that the man on the left had his hair in a crew cut and the other had a full head of hair that was parted. The only positive was that these men didn't look Italian, nor did they have a shroud for me to wear.

"And you are?"

"Oh forgive me," the one on the left declared while the other moved to my side, presumably to keep me from running, "I'm Agent Smith and this is Agent Jones of the Federal Bureau of Investigation." He pulled out his identification. As he did, I took note of the gun under his jacket. "Now right this way."

Being involved with two different mafia families has its disadvantages. I tried to stall; for what, I'm not sure. "And what's this concerning?"

"Mr. Miller, you're in your underwear standing in front of your office building. Does it really matter?"

Agent Smith made a solid point and I couldn't think of anything else to get me out of this situation. "Lead the way."

Agent Smith did lead the way and it felt like my shadow weighed two hundred pounds. Or that could have been because Agent Jones was walking in step right behind me, his feet seemingly on my heels. Agent Smith opened the rear door to a black Ford Edge. I hesitated knowing that once I was in the confined area, I would be at their mercy. I looked into his eyes and it was as if he were ordering me to get in. At least he didn't give a head nod. I slid in and Agent Jones did as well, pushing me over with his hip. I had assumed he would have walked around but I was wrong. Agent Smith got in the driver's seat and peered over his shoulder at me.

"Put the shroud on."

I raised my eyebrows, "You're kidding, right?" I glanced at both agents and they were steadfast. I guess they didn't need a shroud if I provided one. "Seriously?" It was a rhetorical question and one I used to vent frustration as I resigned myself to my fate. I opened the end of the shroud and lifted it to my head. Suddenly, both men started laughing.

"I just wanted to see if you'd do it," Agent Smith chortled while handing over a twenty-dollar bill to his comrade.

I was tired of being the butt of everyone's jokes just because I wasn't an insider in the mafia or the F.B.I. "If you only knew what I've been through..."

"That's what we intend to find out, Mr. Miller," Agent Smith coldly stated as he turned the ignition.

Oops.

It was a quick drive to a parking garage. I went to get out, but was halted by Agent Jones. Agent Smith turned to face me. "Who are you, Mr. Miller?"

"Wait, we're doing this here?" If the shock in my voice wasn't evidence enough, I'm sure my wide-eyed expression told him how astonished I was.

"Yes, and my partner and I have been given the task of putting an end to organized crime in this city. So I repeat, who are you?"

"Um, I'm Troy Miller." I drew out the words, unclear on what he wanted me to say.

Agent Smith let out a frustrated sigh, "I already know your name, Einstein. What I want to know is," And he forcefully wagged his finger at me, "how come I have pictures of you with Triela Giordano and now last night I have you coming out of the abandoned textile factory on the docks; a place that just so happened to have Salvatore Luciano in attendance. Now tell me who the fuck you are!"

"I'm a financial advisor at Windham Securities, nothing more. I swear." My voice had raised an octave as this time those words rushed from my throat.

"Nothing more? A person with ties to two rival mobs is never just a financial advisor, Mr. Miller. So, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, the easy way is you answering my questions. The hard way is..." To finish Agent Smith's statement, Agent Jones stabbed his gun into my kidneys.

I now understand why I'm being interrogated in the back of a car. I gulped, "Uh."

"Why did you meet Luciano last night, Mr. Miller, and don't make me ask you again."

"He wanted a meeting."

"To discuss what exactly?" Though Agent Smith asked, Agent Jones punctuated his question my nudging his gun further into my side.

"He's stealing from the Giordano's and didn't want me to ruin it."

"And how could you do that?"

"By telling Triela about the swindle."

"Ah," Agent Smith nodded his head. "Now we're getting somewhere. Let's talk about your relationship with Triela Giordano. You're telling me you're just a financial advisor, but I have all these pictures," and he began tossing pictures of Triela and I that were taken during our dates at me, "of the two of you dancing, eating dinner, oh, here's a good one of the two of you kissing. Now I don't know what your firm is practicing, but I never have kissed my financial advisor."

"Why? Is he old, fat, and balding?" Answering questions about Salvatore Luciano was one thing, but there was no way I was going to mention anything to jeopardize Triela.

Agent Smith glanced at Agent Jones and I let out a gasp when I was violently elbowed in the side.

"This is what I think happened. You were assigned the Giordano account. You met Triela and she seduced you so you wouldn't go to the police. But someone was watching you and told Salvatore Luciano that his little scam was going to be uncovered. Am I right?"

I looked from Agent Smith to Agent Jones, "You're up."

He answered by gut punching me.

"You know, I like you Mr. Miller. You've got some balls. But your silence tells me everything." Agent Smith laughed. "But you're throwing your life away. Is Triela Giordano that good of a piece of ass to risk going to prison?"

I sneered as I digested his words. I was tired, irritated, and angry; and that combination spurned me to cock my fist and swing at a federal officer.

Agent Jones hooked my elbow with his before I even came in the vicinity of Agent Smith and with his other, he punched me. My head flew back and I was certain I'd shortly have a black eye.

Agent Smith then got out of the vehicle and Agent Jones followed his lead, dragging me with him. Agent Jones stood me up as Agent Smith walked up to me. "You listen to me, you piece of shit," he punched me in the stomach and as his hand withdrew, I saw the brass knuckles explaining why that punch hurt so much more than what Agent Jones did, "I'm tired of this assignment. The sooner I'm finished with your girlfriend, I get promoted. Maybe I'll fuck her before I send her away for rest of her life since her pussy is so damn good."

I was hunched over, gasping for oxygen, when I coughed out, "I take it my rights flew out the window."

"Rights?" Agent Smith decked me in my jaw and continued to swing with both fists randomly switching from head and body shots. "Your rights went out the fucking window when you decided to break the law." I didn't see it, but I'm sure he gave a head nod to order Agent Jones to let me go. I crumpled easily to the concrete. "I'll be in touch Mr. Miller and don't worry; I didn't do any permanent damage... this time."

It was a long walk home. At least the parking garage was closer to my destination than my work was. It still took the same amount of time to get there due to the punishment I incurred. Thank goodness for the sock! I was able to use it to somewhat control the bleeding my nose seemed to want to expel at a rapid rate. I crashed into the mattress without a second thought. It had been well over twenty-four hours since I woke up and my body didn't care.

Someone was running their hand through my hair. It was done with a feathery touch and it felt nice. I almost didn't want to open my eyes. Then it hit me that someone was touching me in my house where I live alone. My eyes shot open as my body bolted upright. Or at least tried to. It was dark, but I was still able to make out Triela in the moonlight. Her arm had reached across my chest, encouraging me not to move. With the amount of pain I was in, it didn't take much for me to oblige.

"Shh, it's okay. It's just me, Tesoro." Triela gave a weak smile and it was obvious she had been crying. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

Yeah, I can do that. "What was that word you just used, tes ..."

"Tesoro. It means treasure in Italian. Is that okay? Do you not like it?"

I gave her my best smile, which wasn't that great but I tried, "I am honored that you feel enough for me to call me that." I reached up and put a hand to her cheek.

Triela leaned down and kissed me. It wasn't hard but I still cringed and let out a hissing sound as the pain from being used as a punching bag was too great for even that small amount of contact. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"I would gladly endure that pain for your sweet lips."

Triela blushed a little as she brushed a few tendrils of hair out of her face. "So what happened to you?"

I told her everything. The meeting with Salvatore Luciano and how he's stealing from her, the conversation with the now known daughter of Salvatore, Janet, as well as the reason she was targeted for a kidnapping and my now being blackmailed to the feds beating the snot out of me and leaving me for dead in a parking garage. I focused on the hard truth that the Giordano family was being pinched on two sides and very soon it could be three if the Sicilians get involved. Throughout the tale, Triela's eyes hardened and she kept flexing her right hand.

"I'm goin' to kill every last one of those bastards."

"Triela, Sweetheart," I figured since she gave me a pet name I can give her one, though I don't think I can call her that in front of anyone else, "I don't want you to do anything."

"But..."

"You can't go after federal officers. Did they abuse their rights... yes, but if you kill a F.B.I. agent; you will go away forever. If you think about it, being separated for life is far worse than a few bruises."

Triela's face softened a little and I got the impression her heart was opening up to the reality that the majority of the world lives in: there are consequences for breaking the law. "What should we do?"

I wanted to run but I had promised her I would never ask that of her. Maybe not those exact words, but I did say I'd support her despite her job. No, if we left to start a new life, it would have to be Triela's idea.

"We lay low for a while." I was taken aback at Triela's immediate nodding, reaffirming my statement. "You do understand that I'm asking you to stop doing your job - that you have to stop handling the affairs and businesses of your family, just for a little while?"

Triela smiled, "I know. But as you've told me time and again, I'm worth putting yourself in danger, well, you're worth enough for me to take a break. I'll just have to dodge my Fathah for a while." Her face then contorted in worry, "What about you?"

"Everyone seems to know where I live, so I'm going to move into a motel. I'll talk to my boss and see if I can do my work out of the office. If I can't, I'll use my vacation time. It's really all we can do until we know what the feds and Luciano's plans are."

And it worked. I had moved into the Aphid Motel that very evening. I relaxed, my body recovered, and Mr. Holloway even allowed me to work from there. I did get the distinct impression he was only willing to allow me to work away from the office because he received a phone call from someone else. I didn't ask. Triela and I used the web to keep in contact just so we could see each other.

Triela was successful in avoiding her father like the plague and had managed to live life as if she were a normal citizen. She eluded him so much so that other members of her family trickled the message down to Triela at how angry Angelo was with her. We had managed to add a ruthless murderer to our enemies. But still, my plan was working flawlessly.

When Triela and I did get together, Triela took several cabs, stopping at heavily populated places like the mall before getting into another one. We would eat at the diner across the street and then go back to my room and watch movies, be intimate, or simply talk while holding hands and cuddling. It actually was a special time as it allowed us to further increase the bond between us. Only later did I realize how naïve I really was to think that not coming to a solution to our problems, in fact ignoring them, would allow us to live happily. With so many people trying to find us, all it took was time and we afforded them all they needed. I was a fool.

I had just finished with a financial meeting with the Howard family, a couple who wanted to plan for their son's college tuition. As I have been, this was done over the internet. I had actually found my clients preferred this method to prevent them from having to trek the city. Despite my less than professional surroundings, I still wore a suit to convey that I was still someone worth speaking to about their securities.

No sooner had I powered down my laptop, my motel room door burst open. Shards of the wooden frame went flying every which way and the door itself hung by only the top hinge. As several armed men stormed in, I quickly tried to flee, darting away from the brutes and into the bathroom. Though there was no chance for escape - no window, no nothing - it was the furthest from the intruders. I was trapped and seconds later, there was a gentle tapping on the bathroom door.

"We know you're in there." There was obvious amusement in the man's voice and I heard a couple of other people laugh at how he said it.

They didn't wait for me to open the door - not that I was going to - nor did they ask me to do so. No. In just a breath of time since the amused declaration did this door suffer the same fate as the entrance door.

I duck and covered, cowering next to the furthest wall, not so much in fear, but in the abrupt knowledge that I was soon to be a dead man. Fragments of the door landed on me and a moment later, there were hands that followed the same path.

"Get off of me!" I screamed as I struggled.

The men found humor in this as well and that's when I saw an old familiar acquaintance of mine - the shroud. A piece of cloth was stuffed into my mouth and I was silenced once again with tape holding it in place. My hands and feet were then secured as the shroud was placed over my head. It was unlike any of the prior two. Instead of a thick material, it was thin and I could see. It was as if I was meant to see but not be seen.

The van pulled into an old abandoned factory on the docks - Salvatore Luciano's place. This confused me as for safety reasons, namely my own, Triela gave me permission to keep funneling money into his account. She just didn't see a way to avoid not only a war, but also bringing our secret relationship to light if she told her father. So there was no reason for Salvatore to kidnap me.

I was hauled into the same room as before and I had a sense of déjà vu as I was similarly attached to a chair. All of this was expected. People tend to stick to their routine of what they feel works best. What did surprise me was that Salvatore Luciano along with Antonio and Janet were in the same room as Angelo Giordano. Even more impressive is that there didn't appear to be any friction between them.

Minutes went by with me just witnessing this spectacle before Angelo walked toward me, putting his hand on my shoulder and his lips to my ear.

"I hate you," Angelo's grasp tightened and caused me to grimace. "I hate you more than anyone I have ever met before and I am going to have you killed in the worst possible way." As he stood straight, he had a sinister smile and his hand took the form of a gun, his fingers the barrel and pointed it at my head. He laughed as he made the gesture of pulling the trigger.

From behind, I heard the door open. "Sir, she just pulled in."

"Excellent." Angelo replied before turning to face Salvatore. "Let's get this over quickly."

Suddenly, Janet's voice was in my ear, "I told you that you should have picked me. Sorry, Love."

I heard the footsteps coming from down the hall, each one like my own personal death taps echoing off the walls. I wonder how many individuals had met their fate in this very room?

"The Luciano's?" My head jerked up as I heard Triela's voice. "Fathah, what's goin' on?"

I started going crazy, lurching and straining against my restraints while mumbles and groans came from behind the gag.

"Knock it off!" Angelo smacked me hard against my face. "You tried to take my daughter, you fuck!"