Quiet Wealth by J.L. Drake

“So, you walked along the beach and saw some old crap,” Wyatt snickered, slipping into his natural New York accent, “while I busted my ass for toothless Joe.” Joe was a researcher who Wyatt often had to work with when I was off working elsewhere. He was something else, to say the least. “Who, by the way, spelled ‘party’ wrong. Party! Girl, my first language is English, and even I can spell party in Italian.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” I had to pull the phone away while I got myself under control. He always had a way of cracking me up, and I loved him for it. “I’ll mess up my eyeliner.”

“Whatever. You can’t screw that face up even if you tried.”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes at his lame flirting.

“Well, what’s he like?”

“I don’t know.” I pushed the wand into the mascara tube. “He’s nice enough.”

“We had a deal, Sienna.”

“Ah, fine!” I checked myself in the mirror one last time and gave a silent nod of approval on my dress of choice. It was a white cotton sundress with a soft, brown jacket paired with brown ankle boots.

“You look good. Stop stalling.”

I flipped off the light and sat on the edge of the bed, knowing I had ten minutes to spare. “He’s nice, easy to talk to, works a lot, always glued to the phone. Oh, he did ditch me at one point and was gone for, like, twenty minutes.”

“Ditched you?”

“Yes, something about his business partner. It wasn’t a big deal, but it allowed me to do a little window shopping, and the time alone was nice. He has some strange ticks, though, like he has this cream-colored elastic, and every so often he’ll snap it.”

“Okay, okay.” He waited, and when I didn’t bite, he let out a frustrated sigh.

“Yes, he’s handsome,” I laughed, “but there’s something about him I just can’t figure out.”

“Bad or good?”

“Neither, really, it’s just something off. I guess how you feel sometimes with Rosa.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, understanding the feeling.

“When I figure it out, I’ll let you know, but,” I glanced at the time, “I really need to go.”

“All right, no goodbye.”

“Just a later.” I smiled as I hung up. I threaded my clutch strap over my wrist, took one last glance in the full-length mirror by the door, and left.

The lobby was empty as my eyes searched around, wondering where Mariano might be. I checked my watch and knew I was on time. I stood on the side of the entrance for over fifteen minutes, feeling conspicuous waiting for a man I barely knew.

“Sienna.” He came around the corner with his phone held up. He was probably answering another email. “Are you ready to go?”

“I have been,” I whispered at his lack of apology for keeping me waiting. He pushed open the door and crawled into the town car that had been waiting for us. I followed him as he slid over and patted the seat beside him, his eyes once again on his ever-present phone.

The restaurant was dark, with low ceilings, and the smell of steak hung thick in the air. I pulled out a tissue and dabbed at my eyes. It took me a moment to get my lungs under control.

“You’ll get used to it,” he assured me as he prattled off our order to the waiter. After he ordered for the both of us without my input, he seemed to settle.

“All right, Sienna, I’ll give you one question that I will answer without hesitation. Use it wisely.”

I nodded and thought about where I wanted to start, but instead of diving right in, I thought I would change directions. “Are you close with your parents?”

His studied me as he absorbed the question. “You could have asked me anything in the world, and you choose that.”

“True.” I leaned back as the waiter refilled my wine glass and our Tagliatelle funghi e tartufo was served.

“Why?”

“I believe you have a question to answer first.”

“All right.” He took almost all the dressing before he offered some to me. “We are close, yes. I love them, of course, but as far as getting along, it depends on the day. My mother can be a lot.”

I nodded, not overly pleased with his answer, but who was I to judge.

“You’re different, Sienna.” He pointed his fork at me as he chewed loudly. “I think this month will be a lot more fun than I thought.”

“Good.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his bluntness.

Somehow, the three weeks flew by, and despite the fact that he lived on his phone and would disappear every once in a while, I found myself enjoying my time with him. So much, in fact, that I agreed to stay on longer.

He loved to educate me on his family and where they came from, but I found myself getting frustrated with how little information I was really getting regarding the family’s oil business. Every time he would occasionally touch on what he did in the business, he would skirt over it and never gave me any details that I could use for my article. Sure, I could piece together a story, but certainly not one that had any real meat to it, and that was what I was expected to produce. I needed to know more about the oil business and how and why they started here. That was, after all, the story I was here to tell.

“You seem extra quiet this morning.” He poured himself a cup of espresso and waved at me to take some too.

“Just thinking, that’s all.”

“About?” He tapped away on his phone while I sipped the heavenly brew.

I thought about Wyatt and how he had left for his sister’s wedding in the United States by now and wasn’t due to return home for another few weeks. I missed him.

“Sienna?”

“I was under the impression I was going to get an inside look into your world. Please don’t get me wrong. This has been a lot of fun and very educational in some ways, but I’m expected to produce an in-depth article on your family’s oil business, and so far I only have enough detail to fill about two pages. Where’s the action and adventure that you hinted at when we met at the airport?”

He studied me for a moment then rested his cup on the table and stared directly into my eyes. “I haven’t been with a woman like you before. I have enjoyed your company very much. I guess I got a little swept away.”

Oh…

“This evening, I will share something worthy with you. You have my word.” His smile made me match his, and I was excited to see what he had in store for me.

The rest of the day he worked while I tried to type some more on the article in case tonight’s promised excitement wasn’t what I hoped for. I needed to get something a lot more interesting or I might as well toss the whole thing.

As we drove that evening, my excitement at something happening faded as he talked away to someone on his phone. I finally opened my laptop and clicked on the article, glad to have it with me to occupy my thoughts. I looked up from the screen when the car stopped and immediately felt sick to my stomach as sweat broke out across my shoulders at where we were.

“Are you all right?” he asked as I stood on shaky legs next to the car. I wasn’t even sure my legs were capable of moving at this point.

“I am.”

“Oh.” He made a sound and nodded as though he made the connection. “I’m sorry, I seem to remember something from your article in Fab Magazine about your time at a dockyard? Will this be too painful for you?”

I had never gone into a lot of detail regarding my days at the dockyard or of the nightmare it had been for me in that article, but I had touched on it.

“I’m sorry, Sienna. I wasn’t thinking, but I just need to grab some files.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” I didn’t want my past to keep me from moving forward in this life, and I pushed it down. “Please lead the way.”

He waved for me to follow him through an open gate. The smell of the containers and the sound of the buoys rubbing against the dock made me hyperaware I was out of my comfort zone.

“Tell me, Sienna…” He was most likely trying to distract me. “Why did you agree to write this article?”

I looked up at him and went for it.

“Ricco Oil came out of nowhere and absorbed Vivo Oil in a matter of months. Over the past thirty years, many oil companies have tried to stake their claim here, but they never stuck. You either had one hell of a sales pitch, or you put up a hell of a fight. Either way, your company is booming, and you have many wolves circling waiting to find their way in.”

“You’ve done your research.” He smiled.

“I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.”

“Well, you wanted to understand what I do,” his expression changed to a more serious one, “so you must do one thing for me.”

“Okay.” I was hungry for it. I needed that big break to get any chance to write for a bigger paper. I wanted more creative control and to be taken more seriously.

“Wait here, and I’ll be right back.”

“Pardon?” I glanced around, unsure.

“There are cameras everywhere. I promise you’re safe.” He laughed. “Let me grab the keys and the files, and I will show you something that will interest you in the back of the property.” He raced up the stairs and disappeared inside.

“And why couldn’t I come up?” I muttered and tried to push back the fact that he often put himself first.

I folded my arms, feeling exposed and nervous. I closed my eyes and tried to settle my nerves. I knew he had read my story, and I was a little hurt he left me there alone, but I knew there were probably things that were not for my eyes.

“Please!” I thought I heard a young voice yell from behind a huge container. “Help me.”

I whirled around while goosebumps raced up my arms and around my neck.

“Help!” I heard again.

I glanced up to where Mariano had gone, but the place was pitch black.

In a full-out sprint, I raced across the dockyard, my street instincts kicking in, and tried to follow those cries. The containers were like a maze, and every way I turned I found myself getting more and more lost. My sense of direction was off as I strained to hear that voice again. I found myself at the stairs that led up to the office again and whirled around in a panic. A dockyard was no place for a young person.

“Mariano!” I called up toward the window, but he must not have been able to hear me. A strange noise like a power surge being turned off made it through my wild heartbeat. What was that?

“Where are you?” I called, straining to hear over the wind.

I heard a sound again and ran to look once again behind a container. I froze. A young man was on his knees, elbows out, his hands clasped behind his neck.

“Please,” he sobbed, shaking his head as he looked up at someone holding a gun at his head, “you don’t have to do this.”

I took a step forward, terrified but unsure what to do as the man with the gun looked directly at me then turned back and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The sound vibrated through my chest, and time stood still as I slowly absorbed what I had just witnessed.

I tried to comprehend that a man now lay dead a short distance away from me. My numb hands grabbed for the container to hold myself up as the killer continued to stare directly at me. Then, like a shadow in the night, he slowly faded away between the containers.

“Sienna?” Mariano suddenly was there. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me back. I nearly lost my footing as he swung me around the corner of the container. He gave me a shake as though it would help me jolt back to life. “What did you see?”

“That man, someone shot him.” I started to panic and as he pulled me in tight to his body.

“I should never have left you alone.”

“We need to call the police.” My brain started to work again. “The killer was tall, taller than me, but-but…his face was slim, and he wasn’t wearing a mask. I got a good look.”

“Sienna,” he stopped me, “no police.”

“Why?” What did he mean?

“Because,” he awkwardly dried my tears with the palms of his hands, “you don’t call the police on these guys!”

“Why?”

“Because,” he looked over his shoulder, “they’re the mafia.”