The Mafia Killer’s Wife by Rosa Milano

Two

Ethan

I'm about to leave. I have no intention of spending the night watching Paulie get pissed and then try to set me up with some girl. I don't want girls. Even if I did, I don't need the Don's son trying to hook me up with one.

I don't want a fuck. I want to go home and catch up on sleep. I only got back from Zurich this morning, and that job kept me up two nights in a row.

I look around the club. So many people looking for attachments. An alien concept for me.

I never get attached to anyone. Those who get close to me end up dead eventually. The only reason Paulie's still alive is he's the Don's son and no one would dare whack him. Not knowing that I'd come for them afterward, retirement or not.

I know what Paulie wants me to do. Pick out a girl or two and get me laid. Relax a little now I'm out of the game.

I'm not staying here if there's no job to do. I have aged steak and aged whiskey at home. I would rather be alone. I would always rather be alone. I've enough blood on my hands. I don't need extra from civilians trying to pick fights when they get off their heads. Going fists flying at the biggest guy in the room.

It might be a Gianni nightspot, but there are plenty of civilians in here with no clue who I am. I can already see a few likely prospects. The guy at the bar scowling at me for having a suit more expensive than his, the group of football fans who seem to have come here by mistake, shoving and yelling at each other over the music. A few more dotted about. I'm not in the mood for breaking skulls, not if I'm not getting paid to do it.

I'm about to leave but I make the mistake of taking another glance at the girl with the crimson red hair. She's twisting and turning to the music and the strap of her dress is slipping off her shoulder.

The eyes watching her are growing narrower. If I leave here, one of those sets of eyes is going to take advantage of her. Probably more than one. I can just tell. It's that kind of crowd. I've a sixth sense for this kind of thing. I can read people like you might read a book. One glance is enough.

She's too drunk to notice the danger she's in. Already the men are whispering to each other, subtly shifting toward her. She's offered a drink and downs it in one, holding the empty glass high above her head.

What's she even doing in a place like this? She looks too young to be allowed alcohol.

Not my problem. The world is full of assholes and victims and I haven't got time to turn white knight with every girl who gets herself in trouble. I should just walk away, go home, leave her to make whatever poor decision she will make.

My ears tune into the two men nearest to me. Neither of them is looking at me. They're both looking at her. One of them says a name that catches my attention.

"Her last night of freedom," he's saying. "I hear the Don is getting her hooked up with Benito tomorrow."

His friend replies. "What's she doing in a Gianni club then?"

"Because she doesn't know it yet."

"Shit. Those guys will be in trouble if they fuck her tonight."

"Maybe another night of the meatballs." I almost strangle the guy when I hear him say that.

His friend is busy replying. "I hear Benito only takes clean ones."

I work out who they're talking about at once.

Don Mancini is Don Gianni's nearest rival ever since the Belucci's were wiped out twenty years ago. The Gianni famiglia hate the Mancini's and the feeling is mutual. Don Mancini wants us to stop being so pious and join him in the drugs racket. Don Gianni wants the Mancini's to stop peddling to kids on our turf.

The Mancini family should stick to their territory, about a quarter of the city, from the docks up to the river. They mainly move dope out there while we're in the protection and gambling rackets.

We have more clout but they have more money. So far neither side has broken through so it's been a stalemate for the last few years.

Don Mancini's attention has moved onto his son this year, tried to get him to marry and settle down, stop running around town spreading the pox left, right, and center. Thinks with him settled down, he'll be able to take over, bring some fresh ideas to the scene, finally make a proper move on our territory.

Benito doesn't want to marry. He's having too much fun. He's also a guy who's not too light with his fists when it comes to the girls in his life. He has a tendency to pick girls living on the border between the two turfs, like he's trying to antagonize us into lashing out, give them an excuse to go to the commission and have us declared out of control.

If that ray of light over there is supposed to hook up with Benito, she's in big trouble. If he knows about her, she must be on their turf, connected to him in some way. That means she's connected to the famiglia that hate us Gianni's.

I shouldn't get involved but I hate to think of that beautifully innocent face ending up with black eyes and busted lip, which is what will happen if she gets hooked up with Benito.

The guy talking starts laughing. "Want to know the funniest part?"

"What?" his friend replying, slurring the word so much it has three syllables.

"She doesn't even know it's happening yet. Thinks it's just a date she's being sent on."

"What?"

"Her pop ain't told her it's an engagement party he's got set up for her. I'd kill to be there when he keys her in to who she's marrying at the end of this week."

My eyes are back on her, and she's got a bigger problem than Benito right now. She doesn't even know it. She's talking to a group of five men who are working as a team. They've separated her from her friend who's making out with someone in a corner booth. One of the gang has got an arm around my girl's back, guiding her toward the fire escape.

Not my problem. Stick my fist into Mancini's business by saving her and he'll take it as an opening gambit. Think I'm goading him into war. Might go straight to the commission and get consent to have me whacked.

I can think about that later. For now my mind is filled with her and the danger she's in. I know what those men are thinking. Get her outside and fuck her. There's an alleyway back there and I doubt they'll take her any further than that.

She's telling them what lovely guys they are, her words slurred, her eyes glazed. Asking where her friend is, how nice they are to take such good care of her when she's feeling so wasted.

I've no doubt her drink's been spiked. They look the type.

It's not my job to stick my neck out for anyone. The way I survive in my line of work is by blending in, not standing out. I'm no white knight.

I should let them leave with her. It's not my job to protect her, certainly not my place to get involved with a random girl already connected to the Mancini family.

I look at the men high fiving as they shuffle her to the exit. One of them is already making obscene hand gestures behind her back. Another one is pulling the money out of her handbag. If I do nothing, this is a night that will scar her for the rest of her life. Where's her friend gone? Still sucking face with the guy in the corner.

The red head has reached the fire exit. One of them's holding the door open, grinning at her and winking, squeezing her ass and then whooping out loud. The others cheer and begin to crowd around her, ready to follow her outside. The door's already closing. She's nearly out of sight.

Now or never.