Undressed By The Mafia God

She looked hyped up on coffee and terror. People made mistakes in that state.

"I’ll send you a location where you can meet discreetly," Voss said at last. "Probably not in public like the last time."

"Anywhere is okay. I am beginning to lose too much. I cannot let it continue. My family are all I have."

"I need you to calm down. If you would just trust me, this will be over soon." Voss exhaled slowly. "Please consider protective custody."

"I can’t do anything to spook Vee yet."

"She will find out eventually."

"Not yet."

"Luca may tell her."

"He won’t." Her mouth twisted. "Not until he can use it to destroy me properly."

Voss hated that she might be right. "Of course...But please, Val. Please be careful. I’d hate your blood hanging over my head." Voss had used her, yes. But he did not want her dead.

"Fine," she said, stepping back. "Fine... fine... fine. I can take care of myself." Valentina turned and left the precinct.

The morning sun hit her hard when she stepped outside. She climbed into her car, shut the door, and sat there for a few seconds with both hands gripping the steering wheel.

Her breathing came too fast. She thought of the family she was trying to save moving farther away from her with every choice she made.

Then she picked up her phone. She found Luca’s number and called. He answered. Valentina did not wait for him to speak.

"You’ll get what you want tonight, you son of a bitch..." she said and hung up.

*****

Vito stood waiting at the back entrance of the same restaurant where he had met Val the first time.

Already, he hated the arrangement. The first meeting had been civilised. Expensive food moving past him on trays. He had not eaten enough that night, mostly because Valentina had arrived full of panic, and daughterly disappointment, which, in his opinion, ruined a man’s appetite.

Tonight, Voss had decided they should meet behind the restaurant.

Behind.

Like criminals.

Which was insulting, because Vito preferred to be treated like an important witness, not a stray dog waiting near a delivery entrance. He would have much rather been inside, seated at a proper table, filling his belly with something delicious while people called him sir.

But Voss had said he was trying to avoid predictability. Typical police nonsense. The back entrance sat under a weak yellow security light that flickered occasionally. The narrow service lane smelled faintly of rain. Life continued warmly beyond the door while Vito stood outside, cold and hungry, guarded by a bored-looking officer.

He glanced at the cop again. The man stood several feet away. He did not know why Val wanted to meet with him.

That bothered him. He suspected she might have learned about the deal he had made with Luca. Thirty million dollars.

Even thinking about it warmed him better than any coat. Thirty million dollars was more than the state could give him. More than witness protection. More than some sad little government-approved life with a fake surname. Thirty million meant choices. It meant never begging again. It meant comfort. A chance to reclaim something that should have been his in the first place.

His daughters had their mansions. Why should he be left with scraps? No. Vito Scalese was many things, but he was not stupid. If Luca wanted silence, then Luca would pay for it.

Then Val arrived. At first, Vito almost did not recognise her. The woman walking towards him looked nothing like the daughter who had met him earlier. That Valentina had looked put together. This one looked as if she had been dragged through a nightmare.

She wore a T-shirt and jeans. Her hair looked like she had spent all of two seconds running a comb through it. Her face was pale. There was something wild in her, something fraying at the edges.

He looked back at the cop standing behind him before turning to Valentina. "Hey, baby..."

Val stopped in front of him. "Hi, Dad."

Vito frowned. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Uhm..." She glanced past him at the officer. "Would you give us a few minutes, please?"

The officer looked between them. "Ma’am, Detective Voss said—"

"I know what Detective Voss said," Val cut in. "I just need two minutes with my father. Is that too much to ask?"

After a moment, the officer nodded and stepped away. Val waited until his footsteps faded, then turned back to Vito and lowered her voice.

"I’ve got to get you out of here."

Vito stared at her. "What?"

"Now."

"What is going on?"

"Voss lied."

His heart gave a small, unpleasant kick. "Lied about what?"

"Everything." Val grabbed his arm. "Come on. I’ll explain later."

Fear and greed began arguing inside him. "Valentina...what do you mean Voss lied?"

Her eyes flashed with impatience. "Do you want to stand here asking questions until they move you again?" Val tugged his arm again. "Dad, move."

He followed her. They moved quickly along the service lane. Vito’s shoes slapped against damp pavement. Valentina kept one hand on his arm, pulling him faster than he liked.

They reached her car parked just outside the restaurant, close enough to make Vito wonder whether she had planned this before arriving.

Val unlocked the car. "Get in."

Vito slid into the passenger seat, breathing hard. Val climbed behind the wheel, slammed her door shut, and started the engine. "Val," Vito said, gripping the door handle, "what the hell is happening?"

Valentina kept both hands on the steering wheel and her eyes on the road. "Voss went back on the deal,"

Vito’s head snapped towards her. "What?"

"He is working with Luca."

"What?" Vito said again.

"I just need to get you to a safe place."

His heart was thumping ridiculously in his chest.

Luca.

The reach of that man was astounding. Vito swallowed hard and looked behind them through the rear window.

"Val, there is nowhere we can go," he said. "They will find us."

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