Page 4 of Brando
“First, we need to secure your sisters. Then, we move.” Mason's gaze doesn't waver. “I won't let anything happen to you, Mia. On my life.”
I meet his unwavering stare, finding a flicker of hope in the darkness. He’s not our real uncle, Mason. He’s just been in our lives longer than anyone else I know. He and my father were best friends before my father was gunned down on a sidewalk. Ever since I opened my eyes, I can remember Mason being there, and although I’m ever grateful to him for all the support and help he’s shown us since our father’s death, I do have to wonder how he could be so close to my father, yet not know what he was doing to the Maltese.
Mason surveys me with an intensity that is as reassuring as it is unsettling. “There's a place. Out of town. It's secure. Off thegrid.” He pauses, ensuring his words sink in. “You'll be ghosts there.”
“How soon?”
“Tonight,” Mason asserts, his tone brooking no argument. “Pack light. Essentials only.”
“Understood.” I turn towards the back room where Sophia's sobs have quieted into hiccups of distress. The urgency of our situation leaves no room for hesitation or second-guessing.
“Listen to me,” I say, locking eyes with my sister. “We have to leave,now. “Where’s Maxine?”
“She’s on her way.”
Sophia nods, as though trying to convince herself, her gaze clinging to Mia like a lifeline in choppy seas.
“Can we... trust him?” Sophia's voice is a whisper, laden with the weight of our plight.
I glance back at Mason, noting the rigid set of his shoulders, the readiness in his stance. “We have to.” I feel like I’ve said the words more to convince myself than my sister.
Mason interjects, loud enough for us to hear him from the next room, “I'll be outside. Five minutes.” A silent promise hangs in the air between us as he disappears through the door.
After we pack, Sophia's eyes, wide and brimming with unshed tears, search mine for reassurance. “But our home?—”
“Isn't safe anymore.” The words cut through the air, final. “We pack what we need, and we leave. No trails.”
The apartment feels smaller as we move. Each step is heavy with the gravity of leaving a life behind, no matter how temporary it has been. We’ve gone from living in a gated mansion to a one-bedroom apartment in an effort to stay afloat. I wouldn’t accept anything from Uncle Mason; his assistance in keeping us hidden has been more than was required of him.
Sophia's sobs have ceased; even grief bows to survival when the sins of our father loom too close.
My phone buzzes, an intrusive sound against the silence. I glance at the screen—six missed calls from an unknown number. It makes my stomach churn. Debt collectors, no doubt, hounds sniffing for scraps of their fractured lives. The magnitude of what our father has done hits me suddenly; if we have to spend our lives cleaning his mess, we’ll never be free.
“Shouldn't you answer?” Sophia asks, her voice shaky.
“No.” The decision cements in my throat. “It stays here.” My fingers tremble as I set the device down, silencing its desperate cries. We’re ghosts now, and ghosts don't leave echoes.
“Maxine’s downstairs with Mason,” Sophia says, looking at her phone. She zips her bag shut, her eyes meeting mine.
“Leave your phone,” I tell her.
She starts to argue, but I silence her with a raised palm. The glare I give her tells her not to test me tonight.
“This is no longer our life, Sophia. Everything stays behind. You need to forget you were ever part of this world.”
3
BRANDO
The club is alive, the pulse of the music vibrating in my chest, making the air thrum with every beat. I cut through the crowd, my steps measured but fast, as I head toward the back of the room, passing the bar, where I can hear the sharp clink of glass and laughter echoing against the thick walls. The narrow corridor ahead of me is a sharp contrast to the chaos of the club—quiet, almost claustrophobic. I push open the door to my office, a familiar, dimly lit space that smells of leather, whiskey, and power. And waiting for me, as usual, are two of my most trusted men.
Enzo and Lupe.
Both of them have been in my life longer than I care to remember, and both have their own unique way of making sure I know they’re there for me. Enzo leans back against the wall, his arms folded, the faintest trace of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. His easy confidence is a constant in my life. He’s got a knack for reading people, and even more so for reading situations. When Enzo speaks, people listen—whether they like it or not.
Lupe, on the other hand, is a walking hurricane. He’s intense, unpredictable, and dangerous in ways I don’t even try to control. He has the gift of making things happen, no matter the cost, and though he’s a bit rough around the edges, I trust him with my life. When Lupe decides something needs to be done, it gets done—quickly. But it’s that reckless side of him that often makes me question if he’s a loose cannon waiting to explode.
I take a breath before sitting behind my desk, one that hasn’t seen much use recently. Between running interference with the Gattis, keeping my eye on the family business, and monitoring my sister-in-law Allegra’s progress—pregnant as she is with my brother Scar’s child—I’ve been spread too thin. The last thing I want right now is to be caught in the middle of another goddamn turf war. But I can’t ignore the rumblings. Not this time.