My Fiancé’s Bodyguard by Ivy Wild
I closedmy bedroom door behind me. I knew I shouldn’t be acting this way. I knew I should be acting like the dutiful daughter ready to be married off to her mob-boss king, but just being in the same house as my father again had my insides curdling. The only thing that gave me any peace of mind was that this time, I wasn’t just here to waste my existence. This time, I was here to try and right wrongs that had been done to good people.
I tipped my suitcase down onto the floor and opened it up. The stupid pendant hanging from my neck caught the light of the setting sun, and I took the thing off and placed it on a nearby tabletop as quickly as possible. Just the feel of it against my skin was nauseating.
Something fell out of the suitcase as I undid the zipper and clattered against the floor. It was an old-style flip phone that was bright red. I didn’t even know that they made flip phones anymore. Somehow I knew that the device must have been from Max. There was no other explanation for it. I grimaced as I realized that I had come into contact with Johnny and that maybe he could have slipped me the phone, but I sincerely hoped it hadn’t been him.
There was only one way of finding out, though. I’d just make sure I was careful not to give anything away.
I powered on the little device and opened the menu. One lone number was programmed into the contacts list. There was no name attached to it. It was just the number.
My thumb pressed call, and my hand brought the device up to my ear before my brain could register what was going on. My stomach was in far advance of both, however, currently churning with anxiety.
It rang once.
Then twice.
Then three times.
No one answered.
I held my breath, becoming more and more disappointed by the second.
Until finally, just before it should have switched to voicemail, someone answered.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Um, I found this phone in my pocket?” The voice on the other side sounded like Max, but I couldn’t be sure.
“And who’s this?”
My nerves started to flare up as I wondered more and more if it was Max or someone else. I swallowed and thought about my answer. There was no harm in saying who I was, right? Even if it was Johnny that somehow slipped the phone into my pocket, they would expect me to call the number.
“Madelyn Dimes,” I finally said quickly.
“You alone?” the voice asked.
I nodded. The line was silent before I realized I hadn’t responded. “Yes, yes, I’m alone!” I said.
“Good. I’m glad you found the phone, Princess.” The voice slipped into its easy tone, and I realized it had been Max all along.
“You scared me,” I hush-whispered into the line.
He just chuckled. “You did alright, princess. Test one, pass.”
“What do you mean, test one?” I asked with a huff.
“I mean, you didn’t blab my name the moment I picked up the phone. So, you pass.”
I narrowed my eyes, wishing I could give Max a look full of disdain. “You know, I’m not some idiot kid.”
I could hear him yawn on the other end of the line. “I ain’t sayin’ you are, princess. But these are the sorts of traps people fall into all the time. And incidentally, it’s how people end up killed.”
I sighed. “You don’t have to be so dramatic.”
“I ain’t being dramatic. I’m just being real. We talked about this.”
“I know, I know,” I said. I did know that he was right, but acknowledging how dangerous this game he and I were about to play just seemed to make it worse. “So, what’s the next step?”
The next step is on you, princess. I need you to feed me information I can use. Things are as cold as ice on my side. Have been for years.”
“Yeah,” I said, a bit of hesitation in my voice.
“Don’t do it yet,” Max instructed. “Just lay low for a while but keep your ears open. Dad may have a tail on you for a while since your runaway escape and this recent trip. Make him comfortable that he can trust you. Otherwise your job’s gonna be pretty difficult.”
I scrunched my face, knowing I’d already royally messed that up within the first hour of being home. “Good point. I’ll do my best.”
“Write this number down but not all in one place. Break up the two pieces and hide them separate. Keep them safe until you’ve got it memorized. Then destroy it. And I really do mean destroy it. Every time we talk, reset your phone. You got that? No records of conversations.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I understand.” I was starting to feel even a little more overwhelmed. Max seemed to know so much about operating under the radar. I was seriously worried that I was going to screw something up. And that was liable to get us both killed.
If my father really did have his wife murdered, I had no question in my mind that he’d do the same to his daughter.
“Call me when you got something,” he said.
“Okay,” I replied, feeling a bit deflated at how business-like our conversation was. I didn’t know what I expected from Max after all this. I’d told him it meant nothing in Miami and I’d meant it then. But today? Today felt different.
Did that make me a liar?
My thoughts were a terrible jumble, and I was about to hang up before he said my name.
“Madelyn?”
“Uh, yeah?” I replied.
“Good job today.”
The line went dead after he said those words. A tear fell from my cheek and I brushed it aside. It had been the first time I’d heard those words spoken to me since I’d lost my mother.
I didn’t know how to feel about what he’d said.
I didn’t know how to feel about this entire situation.
But, it gave me the push I needed to take a deep breath and regain my bearings.
I had a goal in mind.
And, at least for the time being, I had a path forward.
It hadn’t been easy,but I was fairly confident I’d hid the burner phone in a place no one would ever find it. I’d done what Max told me to do when our phone call ended. I’d written down his number, the first half on one slip of paper, the second on the other and hid them in different places in my room. Then I wiped the phone completely.
It was such an odd thing for me to do. It was as if I was somehow wiping his existence from my life.
I didn’t like it.
I’d lost so much over the years.
Always been so alone.
Maybe I was just grasping at straws, but I sort of felt like there was a connection between us. Something more than just sex.
I sighed as I walked down the hall. But, maybe he was just using me to get information on his friend.
Maybe I was nothing more than a means to an end for him.
“Ow!” I exclaimed as I bumped into something and stumbled backwards. I caught myself against the wall and looked up. “Scarlett?” I asked, incredulous at seeing my sister.
My younger sister was just as beautiful as the day my father had married her off to some up-and-coming city attorney. It had turned out to be a good bet because her husband was now the District Attorney with jurisdiction over Boston. She didn’t share the bright blonde features I’d inherited from our mother. Scarlett looked more like my father, with dark hair and dark brown eyes.
She moved to give me a hug and I returned the gesture. We’d never been particularly close growing up. She was more of a daddy’s girl whereas I hung around my mother more, but we were still friendly.
“Scarlett, what are you doing here?” I asked after we parted.
She frowned at my appearance.
“I think the better question is ‘what on earth happened to you?’”
I knew I looked exhausted and I’m sure by now she’d heard about my runaway attempt a week ago. Considering how she had always been the good one between us, I could understand her surprise.
“I just got back from a trip,” I said. “But seriously, what brings you back here?” It wasn’t exactly perfect timing that our mansion was getting another guest. Sure, it was massive and there were plenty of rooms. But, Scarlett being here meant that she was another person I needed to keep track of when I finally tried to do some reconnaissance.
“I thought Dad would have told you,” she said, adjusting the skirts of her flowing a-line dress. “Mark and I are having the mansion redecorated so we decided to stay here during the renovations so we don’t have to be around the contractors.” Scarlett scrunched her nose and I sighed.
She was a bit conceited before she’d left to get married and it seems like married life had only made that particular trait worse. I always hated how she and Dad acted like people working for them were somehow less than them. Jobs didn’t define you. And if they did, Scarlett didn’t have one, so I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand how she could be so full of herself.
“So, both of you will be here? The entire two weeks?” I asked.
She nodded her head. “Yeah. But you know Dad and Mark. Get them together and they won’t stop talking about business.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. I started thinking about the implications of Scarlett and Mark being back at the mansion, about the fact that Mark and my father were always talking business, and about how a lot of things were seeming to line up with Max’s theory of events.
“Madelyn?” Scarlett asked. “You’re getting that faraway look again.”
I shook my head and brought myself back to the present. The last thing I needed to do was raise suspicions. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. I think I’ll just find Doris and then grab a shower.”
“I think I saw her near the prep kitchen,” Scarlett said, making no further attempts to continue our conversation or suggest that we try and reconnect. I let out a sigh as I made my way down the hallway.
How was it that some people’s presence made a place feel even lonelier?
I made my way to the kitchen and pushed open the door. Doris looked up and smiled, dropping what she was doing to make her way over to me and give me a hug.
"How are you?" she asked against my hair.
"I'm okay," I replied honestly. "Is everyone okay here?" I wanted to make sure she and Phil hadn't been harmed following my escape attempt.
"Everyone's good," she replied. She pulled back from me briefly and left her hands on my shoulders. "You seem better," she remarked.
I shrugged. "I wouldn't say I'm better. But, maybe just more resigned."
She chuckled. "It's not over till the fat lady sings," she said.
"What does that even mean?" I said with wide eyes.
"Come on," she replied. "I want to hear all about your trip."
"Not here, though," I said to her.
"Of course not here," she scoffed at me. "Garden?"
I nodded. "Garden. Usual time."
There was a special spot at the end of the gardens that I'd found when I was young. My mother used to go there and I would accompany her a lot. It wasn't until I was older that I understood why she liked the place so much. It provided complete privacy. It was at the end of the yard, with the fencing surrounding the perimeter of the Estate directly behind the shrubbery and it was tucked away as a little corner so that you could see anyone who was approaching.
It was the perfect place to have secret conversations, and Doris and I made good use of it. We usually met in the evening, when most of the staff had gone to bed. I always used the excuse that I liked to take evening walks through the gardens during sunset and Doris claimed she was making rounds to check the vegetable beds. It had become a little tradition for us whenever we needed to share intimate information and couldn't risk being overheard.
As much as I wanted to spill everything that had happened to me to Doris, I knew I couldn't. Even leaving out the part where I'd become a spy for a former Army Ranger, it was still too risky to tell Doris that I'd slept with Max. That information linked him and I together and if it got out, it would put everyone connected to us in danger. It wasn't that I didn't trust Doris, it's just that I couldn't justify risking her safety under any circumstances.
It made me sad to know that I still had to hold things back from her. Our relationship had always been one of trust and complete honesty. I just hoped that one day she could understand why I was doing what I was doing. Even still, I could at least tell her about the hotel, about the beach, about how gross Johnny was being and any other gossip that came to mind.
We embraced again and Doris separated from me to head back over to whatever it was she was preparing for dinner. I climbed onto one of the stools to watch her cook. It was a favorite pastime of mine.
"Your sister and her husband had to show up and now I gotta feed another two people," she complained.
I nodded my head. "Yeah. Why are they here?"
"I was told they're renovating their house."
"Not sure if I believe that," I replied honestly.
"That makes two of us," Doris responded.
It was odd that Scarlett had returned home. When she and Mark had first purchased their home, their contractor had punctured their radiant heating pipes and flooded large portions of the lavish antique house they'd bought, and they hadn't moved home during all the repair work that had to be done during that time. The timing of their return was suspect, to say the last.
But, I didn't want to drag Doris into a conversation topic that could get her in trouble. I'd save any of that for later in the evening. So, for the time being, I rested my head on the cool steel of the countertop, chatted idly with my only friend in the world and just tried to forget that I was scheduled to marry a mob boss who had likely murdered my mother.
That next day,I sat in a different car than the one that I normally drove and waited for a specific person to leave his house and head to work. These sorts of shakedowns for Johnny were routine. And normally, they meant nothing. But, this morning's was different.
This wire that I was supposed to be ensuring went through definitely had something to do with why we'd been in Miami and where Johnny had gone while we were left in the city. It was a rare opportunity for me to try and get some information on a trail that had gone ice cold on me for the past several years.
The man exited his house and he couldn't have looked more like a banker if he tried. Slightly balding, a bit overweight, a poorly pressed suit and a somewhat dated Hyundai. Unfortunately, Johnny wasn't taking care of the guys who were supposed to be taking care of him. That much was obvious.
There'd been a lot of rumblings by his sons over this very fact. His oldest had very specific ideas about how he wanted things in the family to be run. Apparently, he and his father had a lot of disagreements. The youngest son wanted nothing to do with the family business and the two middle sons seemed to be biding their time to see what was to become of Primo’s disagreements with his father.
Bribery 101 was to make sure that the people doing the dirty work for you were adequately incentivized. Johnny seemed fond of the violence route. Which certainly kept me employed, but I had to agree with his oldest. Compliance was much easier bought than forced.
Besides, beating a guy up at eight in the morning was sort of a drag. The movies made it look easy, but punching someone in the jaw was actually a bitch. It's why brass knuckles had been invented in the first place: for the guys who lacked the ability to punch well. Sure, they broke jaws, but that wasn't their real purpose.
The guy kissed his wife, got in his car and started on his way to work. I followed a little bit behind him and when the moment was right and the streets were empty, I pulled my car in front of him, preventing him from going any further.
I motioned for him to roll his window down and he did. He obviously knew what this was. "Park the car and get in," I instructed him.
He nodded nervously, but didn't argue. Maybe I wouldn't have to mess this guy up after all. He seemed rather compliant. He pulled his car over and exited slowly before making his way to my vehicle. I undid the lock, and he got into the passenger seat without a word.
We drove in silence for a few minutes before I took him to a place that I knew to be shielded from pesky street cameras and wandering eyes. It was a highway underpass in a deserted area of town and it was as cliche as could be. But, it had a certain gangster charm to it.
I put the car in park and pressed the lock on the doors. Then, I pulled out the three photographs that Johnny had given me the other day. I hadn't even bothered to look at them. I just assumed whatever they were, they were important to this guy. One of them could have been of his goldfish, for all I cared.
I placed them on the dashboard in front of him and then I turned to look at him. I really hoped this guy wasn't going to shit himself. I didn't want to have to deal with the smell while I was trying to persuade him to look the other way when today's wire came through.
"Do you know who sent me?"
The gentleman nodded his head slowly.
"Good, good. That's good," I said. "You are a banker, after all. Had to go to college, yes?"
He nodded again.
"Master's degree, too?"
Another nod.
"Those things are expensive," I said. "I imagine you're still paying it off, hm?"
Nod.
"You got a wife, I saw. Pretty little thing. Doesn't work though."
Nod.
"Relies on your paycheck, yes?"
Nod.
"Right, right. Bankers, need their fingers to type and all that shit, is that right?"
The man seemed almost frozen with fear.
"You gotta help me out buddy. See, I didn't go to college, so I'm not as smart on this shit as you."
He nodded.
"So, if say all your fingers were broken, it'd be really tough to do your job, then?"
Nod.
"Wife might go hungry if you're not working, right?"
Nod.
"But, she's pretty enough. I know a guy down in Seaport that's always hiring for his clubs."
The man's mouth opened and closed in panic and I chuckled.
"Don't worry, what's your name? Kenny?"
Nod.
"Don't worry, Kenny. None of this is going to happen, so long as you do one thing today in front of that little computer of yours today."
He nodded his head vigorously.
"There's a wire that's gonna make its way to your desk. Just make sure it goes through. That's all."
He looked at me with wide eyes and finally managed to say something. "The bank, it's under investigation by the Feds. We've been ordered to follow a specific protocol for international wires."
"I know," I said. "And here's the thing, Kenny. I just don't give a shit."
"I could lose my job!" he exclaimed.
See, this was the problem with the "use violence and threats as motivation" method. Either way this guy was worried about losing his job. There was no reward for him by looking the other way other than avoiding pain. Any owner who trains a dog with a shock collar can tell you, the animal doesn't love you quite the same way as one that's been trained with treats. But, I had a job to do.
"Maybe," I said to him. "But, maybe not. You're a smart guy. Two degrees to your name. I'm sure you can figure something out to make sure the wire isn't detected."
He gulped but nodded his head. "I might be able to reassign its routing number so that it looks like a domestic wire," he replied.
I clapped him on the shoulder and he visibly flinched. "See! I knew you could figure it out, Kenny! You just had to have a little faith in yourself."
"If I do this, you'll leave me and my family alone?" he asked.
I nodded my head. "Yeah, yeah, that's generally how these things work. But, I'm gonna need one more thing from you," I told him. "'Cause I gotta make sure you're upholding your end of the bargain."
He nodded his head. I pulled a pen out of the center console and turned one of the photographs on the dashboard over. It was the picture of his wife, which was too perfect. I wrote down the number to my burner phone and handed it back to him.
"When the wire goes through, I want you to text this number all its details. The sender, the amount, the recipient. You got that?"
"That violates the bank's privacy rules," he replied.
I chuckled darkly. "I think we're well past that as being a concern, don't you Kenny?"
He nodded his head slowly and I clapped him on the shoulder again. "You know, Kenny, I really enjoyed our chat. I wish more people were as reasonable as you. I swear, most mornings I'm beating guys up under this overpass." I pointed to a smear on the nearby concrete. "See that there?" He turned to look and grimace. I laughed. "Yeah, you already know what that's from. Good thing you're so agreeable."
He just nodded his head but stayed completely silent. I drove him back to his car and let him leave but followed him all the way to the bank just to give him a little extra motivation. I didn't think he would need it, though.
The little stunt I pulled with the wire instructions was risky. But, from what I could tell, this guy didn't have any direct connections with Johnny. So, it was a relatively safe ask. Had this been one of Johnny’s guys on payroll, no way in fuck would I have asked for that information. But, this situation almost fell into my lap.
I just hoped it wasn't going to crush my balls.
I poweredup the device that evening and my little screen lit up. I scrolled through the information and copied it down, triple checking I had it right before wiping the phone, turning it back off, and tucking it under the false floor to my gun safe.
I looked at what I'd written down and tried to make sense of it.
Incoming Wire Transfer:
From: Compañía Minera del Sol, S.A.A.
To: HS Banking Corp.
Account No.: 17-349003453
Amount: $98,750,863
If I hadn't triple-checked the damn phone screen, I would have thought I'd copied it down wrong. But, the numbers were right. Johnny had wanted me to make sure a $100 million wire transfer cleared. From whatever this company was. I grabbed my laptop and opened up a browser window, making sure my IP mask was on so my searches couldn't be traced.
According to the limited information available on the internet, Compañía Minera del Sol was a Peruvian mining and refinery company. It operated one of the few legally permitted mines in Peru, according to one article and regularly worked with refineries in the U.S. to process its precious metals. The rumor was that it was owned and operated by the Minister of Economy and Finance, which accounted for its legal status. I looked at the name and my eyes widened. I couldn't believe what I was reading.
Baldomero Maldonado.
If I was reading this right, that meant...
...that the head of Boston's Italian mafia wasn't Italian.
