Undressed By The Mafia God

Vee barely heard any of it. Cold metal closed around her wrists, and the click of the cuffs seemed to come from very far away.

All she could think of was Valentina. How had she not seen it? How had she not noticed? How could she have been that blind?

Valentina had been strange for weeks, months even. And Vee, had been sitting in the middle of all of it rubbing her stomach and asking the wrong questions.

The police led her out of the house. Everything was mad in that moment. Red and blue lights flashed across the street. Neighbours had already begun appearing behind curtains and half-open doors. Officers moved around her.

Vee stood outside. Then the nausea hit her full square. Her stomach rebelled with spectacular timing. She bent over and vomited right there near the side of the road, the force of it dragging tears into her eyes and burning her throat. Vee spat, humiliation and fury twisting together inside her. She looked back at the house.

Within moments, Voss arrived. He stepped out of his car with his coat half-buttoned and his face already grim.

He went inside the house first. Vee kept her eyes fixed ahead, refusing to give the officers anything more than her silence.

A few minutes later, Voss came back out. "What happened here?" he asked.

Vee looked away. She said nothing.

Voss stepped closer. "Veronica." His jaw tightened. "Are you taking the fall for your husband? Is that it?"

Vee looked at him then. The look she gave him was pure disbelief. Was he stupid? If Luca wanted Vito dead, no one would have found a body. There would be no blood on the floor. Luca did not leave messes like this unless the mess itself was a message. Voss had chased her husband for years and still did not understand basic craftsmanship.

Still, she said nothing. Voss studied her. He knew something stank. The scene was too clumsy, too loud in all the wrong places. But he also knew the mafia code of silence, omertà.

Vee as Donna was not going to say a word to him. Voss signalled to the officers to hold the scene.

"Secure the house," he ordered. "No one touches anything until forensics gets here."

One of the younger officers nodded. She stood beside the patrol car with her hands cuffed in front of her, pale beneath the flashing lights, silent as stone and twice as stubborn.

"I’ll take her in myself," Voss said.

An officer frowned. "Detective, protocol—"

"I said I’ll take her."

Voss placed a hand lightly on Veronica’s arm and guided her towards his car. He opened the back door for her. He helped her in, shut the door, then walked around and got in. A patrol car pulled behind them to follow.

For the first few minutes, the drive was silent. Voss kept both hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road. Veronica stared out of the window. Sirens murmured behind them from the patrol vehicle.

"What were you doing there?" he asked.

No answer.

He glanced at her. "Veronica." He exhaled. "You know how this looks. I do not believe you killed him," He continued, careful now. "I saw the room. That was not an execution. It was messy. Which, no offence, does not fit Luca’s style," he added. "Your husband is a lot of terrible fucking things, but sloppy is not one of them."

"Someone is cleaning up, right?" Voss asked quietly. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "you staying quiet helps the person who did it. You are not helping Luca by taking the fall,"

Before Voss could push again, a violent crash tore through the intersection behind them. The sound punched through the car.

Voss slammed his gaze to the rear-view mirror. The patrol car escorting them had been hit hard from the side by another vehicle, its front end crushed, steam already rising from the bonnet. "Ah, fuck," he breathed. He knew before he saw him. He knew because chaos had a signature.

Voss snapped his head forward again, and his foot hit the brake. Another car was parked across the road in front of them.

The driver’s door opened. Luca stepped out. He moved towards the windshield with a gun already raised, his face terrifyingly calm.

Voss stepped out of the car slowly. He did not bother pulling his gun. There was no use with Luca.

Luca stopped a few feet away. "I’m taking my wife, Voss."

Voss looked behind them. From the car that had rammed the patrol vehicle, Massimo Genovese stepped out. He straightened his jacket, surveyed the damage, and smiled faintly.

"Whew," Massimo said. "Fuck those who call me old."

Voss stared at him. Why would anything be normal tonight? "I cannot let you take her," Voss said, turning back to Luca. "Call her lawyer. He’ll do his magic, and by morning she will be arraigned. She may be granted bail, she may not. But then, you are Luca Genovese, I’m sure things will go the way you want."

Luca smiled. "Don?" he called to his father.

Massimo walked to Voss’s car. He opened the door and leaned in. "Regina," he said gently, his face darkening at the sight of her cuffed hands, but his touch was careful as he helped her out of the car.

Luca’s eyes went to her immediately. "Bambola,"

She looked at him, and Voss saw everything pass between them. The kind of trust no court in the world could cross-examine out of a woman.

Voss’s frustration burned through him. "What do you plan on doing uhn? Take her into hiding? You want her to live the rest of her life on the run?" he demanded.

"You good?" Massimo asked Vee.

"I..." Vee swallowed hard. Her skin was clammy, and the nausea still rolled through her in ugly waves. "Nauseous, but yes."

Massimo uncuffed her. The metal loosened around her wrists. Vee turned immediately to Luca. He was already looking at her.