Chapter One

Present Day

 

“Son of a bitch!” Yvette whispered at her iPhone as she fumbled with it trying to turn off the alarm before the sound woke her downstairs neighbor’s toddler, who had a knack for waking at a drop of a dime. “Stop, stop!” she said in an angry whisper as she fumbled with the buttons until it stopped its incessant blaring. Yvette rolled onto her back and listened for the neighbor’s kid, she heard nothing, she let out a sigh of relief, it was another successful morning of not pissing off her neighbors. Yvette lay in bed a little longer and wondered if she should call in sick. She hated her job. It was the bane of her existence. Yvette was the President of the company that shipped freight around the world, B&E shipping where the CEO Peter Jennings often called her, the President of the company, a glorified secretary. Yvette couldn’t figure out why he thought so low of her, she worked her ass off to make sure the business ran smooth. Peter on the other hand went to numerous golf meetings and luncheons only to return and yell things for her to do from his office. Every time she heard him yell, “Yvette,” she cringed. There were many days like today where she wanted to quit. She wanted to call in and tell Peter how she felt about him and exactly where he could put her job, but she needed to work, so she could live like a normal person who ate food and kept their lights on and gas in their car, the responsible shit.

“Shit, gas,” she said to an empty room, she needed to stop for gas before she went to work. She jumped out of her comfortable bed and tripped over the cover that wrapped around her ankle. Yvette went down hard, and in less than ten seconds, she heard the wail of the small child downstairs. Yvette imagined the parents were shooting lasers at her through the ceiling. She sighed and tapped her head on the carpeted floor. She was getting the feeling that today would not be a good day.

Yvette unraveled her ankle from the cover and draped it over the bed. She ran to her walk in closet and picked out a nice white blouse and black pencil skirt. She looked at her shoe choices, she wasn’t feeling like heels today, so she grabbed a pair of white tipped black flats. She rushed back into her bedroom and threw her clothes on the bed and ran to the bathroom for a quick shower. Yvette turned the shower to hot, she loved hot showers, the kind that made your skin feel like it’s burning, then either the water gets cooler or your skin adjusts and it’s bliss. Yvette let the water run for a few seconds before she jumped in, and was met with hard freezing pellets of water. “Ah!” she yelled and jumped back letting the cold water wash over her feet. “Well played,” she thought to herself. Her neighbors must have purposely ran the hot water leaving none for her. With that passive aggressive retaliation Yvette wasn’t feeling as apologetic about the crying baby. She had no other options, she needed to shower. So she stepped under the shower head teeth clenched and with grim determination. After freezing her ass off for the seven minutes it took for her to take a shower, Yvette emerged from the bathroom teeth chattering and body shivering even though she was wrapped in a large towel. Yvette sat at her vanity. She needed to unwind the twists she put in her hair the night before. Yvette was following a how to YouTube video and making an attempt to achieve the overnight seductive loose wavy curls, like the woman on the video. One look in the mirror and she was mortified. Her hair was a mess. It looked like a cross between a beehive and bird’s nest. She felt her anxiety rise, she couldn’t go to work like this, and she needed to leave in fifteen minutes, not nearly enough time to tame her frizzy half curled hair. She took a deep breath, “It will be fine,” she assured herself. This wasn’t her first time in a hair emergency situation, “One foot in front of the other Yvette.”

Yvette brushed her teeth, then grabbed her clothes, and dressed. She ran a hand through her hair as she walked back to the vanity. She attacked her hair with vigorous brushing, pulling and geling. Fifteen minutes later her hair was in a tight ponytail. The style was very Saturday morning at the grocery store opposed to the striking diva she thought she would be this morning. Being a black woman came with a lot of maintenance, for starters, her hair. It never participated in any hairstyle she deemed becoming. It was tight and curly when she washed it and hurt like a son of a bitch to comb. Yvette had her go to hairstyle, she braided her hair at night in a few big braids and unbraided them in the morning. It made her hair look curly and ordered. Why she wanted to change, she didn’t know, but what she did know was that she wouldn’t be trying new hairstyles during the work week again.

Yvette picked up her phone to check the time. Damn, she had to leave in the next five minutes if she wanted to be on time for work. Yvette walked to her kitchen to grab her purse. She usually left her purse on the counter in the kitchen. When she went to grab the handle her hand met air instead, her anxiety increased. Where did she leave it? Did she come home with it? Or did she leave her purse in the car?

Yvette turned in a circle taking a quick survey of her home. She had an open floor plan. From where she stood in the kitchen, she could see the dining room and living room, “There you are,” Yvette spied the handle of her purse on the floor next to the couch. She rarely left her purse on the floor, but last night she had one too many glasses of wine, and if she remembered correctly, the night ended with her laying next to her purse asking it, “Why can’t I find a good man?” The purse held no answers for her. She grabbed the purse and headed for the door.

***

Yvette knew traffic would be heavy because of the construction on 495. There was always construction on 495, Yvette was beginning to wonder if they would ever finish. Surprisingly, traffic was moderate until she made it to her last toll, she settled in preparing for the heavy traffic and pulled out her makeup bag to finish getting ready. Half an hour later she pulled her silver Lexus into her companies parking structure. She parked her car in her usual spot, five rows down from the CEO and jumped out. She had five minutes left to get into the building before she was late. Yvette walked to the underground elevator that would take her to the second floor skywalk. When she walked, she felt her skirt climb up her thighs. She pushed the button to call for the elevator and pulled her skirt down, it must have risen higher in the car.

The elevator door binged and she stepped on. A few seconds later the door binged again, and she stepped off. She liked to get her favorite water from the small shop near where the elevator deposited her every morning. Yvette loved going into the small shop and saying hello to the old woman and her daughter that worked there. Whenever she came in they would say, “Hi Yvette.” Yvette would smile and start small talk, and they kept a steady supply of her favorite peach sparkling water. Without that water the chances of her being pleasant where non-existent.

Yvette grabbed her water and walked down the stairs where Frank stood checking people into the building and providing directions. There was something about Frank, he smiled a lot but it never reached his eyes. His light banter with her was welcoming but you could tell he was always watching his surroundings, taking in the characteristics of one person, then moving to the next. He sometimes had an air about him that made him seem dangerous. He talked about his family or The Family a lot. Yvette asked him about his wife and he answered he didn’t have one. Confused she asked him about his family but he always ignored her question and asked her one instead. They would end up talking about her and she would forget what she asked him. Eventually Yvette realized he didn’t want to talk to her about his family and stopped bringing it up. Yvette didn’t like talking about her family either. Remembering the dead was hard enough, talking about them made her wish they were still alive, and that was unbearable. Maybe Frank had a similar situation.

For now, Yvette enjoyed having him around and listening to him talk. The only drawback about Frank was his need to gossip. He needed regular transfusions of gossip sessions or he would burst at the seams.

“Heya Yvette.” Frank said. His dark hair was slicked back and he had on a black two piece suit. It wasn’t a name brand or even tailored. It was right off the hanger and one size too big. He looked like one of those men who lost a lot of weight, but hadn’t gotten around to buying new clothes, so he sort of drowned in them. Yvette smiled at him, no matter how second rate mafioso he looked, she adored him just the same.

“Hey there Frank. How are you doing today?” she asked.

“Fine.” He said and sat back in his chair folding his arms over his chest. “Except, the word is something is happening on your floor. Someone is getting fired.” Yvette was sure he had been holding that tidbit of information inside for a while and was bursting at the seams to tell someone. “Shit, I hope it isn’t me.” Yvette said.

There were rumblings that her boss was in trouble with the board but she had thought nothing of it, she thought it was more water-cooler gossip than anything else. If he was the one being fired would they fire all those he hired and bring in new people? Her body shivered at the thought. Yvette always feared being unemployed. She was alone. She had a small savings, but that wasn’t enough, if they fired her with Peter. She couldn’t lose this job. She stood silent, her mind was racing, and Frank was talking, but Yvette wasn’t listening to what he was saying.

Yvette interrupted Frank in the middle of his diatribe about how he hoped, “Whoever is getting canned wants a fight. It’s been far too long since-”

“Do you know who’s up there?” Yvette asked.

Frank shook his head and the excess fat from rapid weight loss, moved like a turkey’s neck. “I can’t tell you that, I know when to shut my mouth. I didn’t make it this long by saying the wrong things to the wrong people.”

Yvette nodded and walked away, she didn’t want to get Frank in trouble. It wasn’t as if by knowing who was upstairs would change anything, if there was anything that needed to be changed. She walked to the elevator, she tried to remain calm, but her anxiety irritated her stomach, causing sharp lancing pain to pierce her insides. Yvette’s legs felt weak and threatened to buckle with every carefully placed step. Damn Frank for being a gossip and damn herself for playing into his hands. She waited for the elevator, when it arrived it was full of people. Usually Yvette would wait for the next one but today she wanted to get upstairs.

The elevator doors opened on her floor, and she walked off with her back straight and head up, no matter what was happening, she wouldn’t cry or show her anxiety. Her shoes didn’t make a sound on the marble floor that lead to the doors of B&E offices. Yvette opened the glass doors and walked in and was hit with a wave of nervous energy, and her confidence slipped. If her nametag was gone, she was getting fired. Yvette’s body trembled with every step that took her closer to her office. Yvette tried to be cordial and say the obligatory “good morning’s,” but she couldn’t spare the emotion. She walked down the hall past the conference room. The door wasn’t all the way closed and she heard the rumble of unfamiliar male voices. Yvette knew, she shouldn’t eavesdrop but needed any information she could gather, she took a few steps back and put an ear to the door to listen.

“Capo, you take care of that stealing rat? What an idiot. He knew what would happen if he took from the boss and didn’t care. We lost a lot of money because of that piece of shit.” Someone grunted, she assumed it was Capo. Then the man’s voice came back again, “I’ll take care of him myself, set it up.”

“Yes, Consigliere.” A voice answered. Was that Capo? Yvette wondered, how many people were in the room.

Yvette’s brows furrowed, she heard that word before, ‘Consigliere’. She tilted her head and tried to remember where she had heard it, but she couldn’t grab the memory. Yvette moved closer to the door. There was the sound of ice hitting the sides of a glass, Yvette assumed he stopped talking to drink something. “Where the fuck is Antony? Brat gets everything because he is the boss’s bambino, but he won’t be able to handle this operation, and the boss will have to give it to me as it should have been all along.” Yvette jumped when something hit the table hard. She straightened, she didn’t want anyone to see her eavesdropping at the door, especially the man talking, he seemed a bit unstable. Who was he anyway, she thought. She was about to take a step back from the door when someone walked past her and pushed her shoulder. She jerked losing her balance and almost dropping her bag. Yvette righted herself and was about to apologize, then she realized, he pushed her. She should be the one hearing an apology, not the one giving an apology. She looked at the backside of the man that continued to walk past her into the conference room. He didn’t look back to see if she was okay. He kept walking head held high and slammed the door in her face.

“Asshole.” Yvette mumbled, sighing, she pulled herself together and continued her walk to her office, dread sat heavy in the pit of her stomach as she walked she passed huddled conversations, she tried to listen but only bits and pieces made it to her ears. The conversations that reached her mentioned keywords like fired, but not who was fired. She reached her office, and her name tag was still up, she nearly sank to the ground with relief. Yvette glanced at the CEO’s office, Peter’s name had been removed. Even as relief swamped her, so did a healthy dose of guilt, she didn’t want to see any human being placed in a difficult situation. No matter what happened, Peter had a family and responsibilities. His unemployment would put them in a hard place. But then again he was a huge asshole and constantly abused his executive authority. He took long lunches, had short work days, and his willingness to delegate every minutia of work had always troubled her. If she were looking at the fairness of the situation, the board’s decision was fair, it sucked from a sentimental point of view.

Yvette walked into her office, it wasn’t much, but it had a great view of a rusted ship yard, she thought sarcastically. She walked past the two leather couches she arranged for informal business meetings in a daze. She dropped her bag on her glossy chestnut desk, and flopped down into her chair. Yvette had mixed feelings about having a new boss, she hoped he or she would be better than Peter. Hell, anyone was better than Peter. She rested her head on the top of her desk relieved by the departure of the intense emotions of moments before, then she remembered something her grandmother used to say, “Better the devil you know then the one you don’t,” there was some truth to that.

Yvette pushed the power button on her computer and waited for the computer to power on. Yvette tapped her finger on her desk as she tried to consider who might be promoted to take Peter’s place. It wouldn’t be her, she hadn’t been here long enough for a promotion. Jim the CFO could move into the CEO position, but he seemed stressed every day. His tie was always loose around his neck and the wires he had left of what started as a full head of hair stood straight out most days. What was more disturbing was his constant paranoia. He walked looking down and jumped whenever someone said his name. Yvette thought he might just have a stroke if he landed in the CEO’s seat.

Yvette moved her mouse and clicked on the flashing announcement icon on the company’s intranet. The announcement confirmed that her boss was fired, but the reason listed was due to health reasons, not lack of leadership or skill, which Yvette guessed was the real reason for his termination. The announcement also introduced her new boss Antony Carbonaro. She read Antony’s bio, he was the chairman’s son. Great, she was sure he didn’t know jack shit about running a business. Yvette snorted, rich people have no fucking idea, Antony’s daddy had probably given him the company as a new toy for his son to play with, while the rest of them depended on B&E to eat.

Yvette closed the announcement, the devil she didn’t know didn’t seem to be any better than the one she knew. This guy would run B&E into the ground. She wallowed for a moment, lamenting over the unfair deal that was her life. After a few minutes. she pulled herself together with thoughts of how she should update her resume, and how she should start sending it out tonight. If things were going to change around here, she would be ready. Yvette wouldn’t wait until they fired her, or when the company went bankrupt to look for somewhere else to work. She sat back and rested her head on the back of her chair. Yvette closed her eyes and inhaled then exhaled. She had a foreboding feeling that her world was about to change forever. There was no way to explain it, but she knew with every fiber of her body, soon nothing would be the same.

***

Antony Carbonaro walked into B&E’s downtown Hell’s Kitchen office and was greeted by Frank or Frankie to the Family. He shot up to his feet, “Mr. Carbonaro, sir, hello.”

“Hey Frank,” Antony said to him and walked to the elevator. Frank was a hell of a soldier in his day, but had been regulated to playing a security guard, because he talked too much, and to the wrong people. Antony knew Torre, his father’s Consigliere was here. Antony smiled, Torre still fumed over the lost opportunity to run this operation. Antony adjusted his cufflinks and looked himself over in the shine of the closed elevator doors. When the doors opened, he stepped onto the elevator and ran his finger over the buttons, then pushed fifteen.

Torre Pini was his father’s advisor and representative. Torre often abused his title, and took too many liberties within the Family, because he was the right-hand man to the boss, which unsettled Antony. He was getting far too comfortable pushing his perceived power around, to the point he thought he could order Antony to hurry in to the office. Antony smiled, because those texts only made him move slower.

What kind of man was Torre to think he could ever command Antony, the underboss of the Family to do shit. If Torre had been around before Antony calmed himself, Torre would have met an early end. Antony wondered why his father put up with Torre, but then again, Torre had a knack of stuffing his pride down in his father’s presence, Antony had never been fooled. Torre thought he was better than the boss and Antony. He would rethink that soon. Antony didn’t trust him. He wouldn’t put it past him to push for power and try to take his father’s seat, but Antony would never let that happen.

Antony was a pretty boy, and because of his looks the Family never took him seriously. They didn’t think he had what it took to be the head of the Family. He didn’t have the air of danger and menace that his father carried like a cloak, but he was brutal in his own way. Someone only tried him once and never tried him again.

Antony’s good looks were useful when he dealt with his father’s legal business deals. Everyone who was anyone knew Antony Carbonaro and the long reach his family money had. Antony constantly received invites to dinner parties, social affairs, or whatever important matter the rich people of Manhattan thought to host. He attended most of them and used his good looks to network and gain beneficial deals. Antony was a firm believer of using all the resources available to him to get what he needed, and that included his looks and money. If people only knew behind his practiced smiles and three piece suits there was a cold and efficient killer.

Even in the family he used his looks to appear harmless, when in fact, it was him his father sent out to do some of his most dangerous jobs. There were three things Antony was good at and enjoyed; one was killing those that needed killing, making money, and making love. On a good day he could accomplish all three.

Antony stepped off the elevator and walked toward the sound of Torre’s deep voice, but his steps faltered at the sight of the full and curvy ass of a woman whose ear was pushed against the door of the conference room. Torre was a fucking idiot. Who left the door open to a conference room and discussed Family business. Hadn’t they had the conference rooms soundproofed for this reason? Antony reached for his cufflink, it annoyed him that there were people in the office who were meddlesome, but teaching her a lesson in manners was not something he had the luxury of doing at the moment. He walked toward the conference room door, his steps were loud against the marbled floor but the woman was so engrossed in listening that she failed to hear him coming. Antony wouldn’t walk around her, he would walk straight and either she moved, or she didn’t, he didn’t care. She was somewhere she shouldn’t be and listening to a conversation she shouldn’t hear. By the time he made it to her, she still hadn’t moved, he bumped her shoulder on the way in. He didn’t look back. Then closed the door when he entered the room.

Torre turned in his chair. “Damn it, where have you been Antony? I have sent you at least ten texts.”

Antony took a seat in one of the high back executive chairs and faced Torre. Seated between them were Torre’s caporegime, or capos. Antony hated looking at them. He wasn’t sure if these capo’s and their soldiers were loyal to Torre or his father. They would know soon. Antony was just waiting for the right time to get rid of his Torre problem in one swift move. Coolly, he answered Torre, “Do I report to you?” Antony laughed, “Now, here I thought you reported to me.”

Torre guffawed, and said, “Never mind we have work to do.”

Antony adjusted his cufflinks, he met Torre’s eyes, and let a little of the darkness within out. “No, we don’t have work to do Torre, I have work to do, and your job is to handle the garbage, that I throw on the floor. Garbage like Peter.” Antony paused, “That is your job right? To take out trash.”

Torre jumped out of his seat and slammed his hand on the conference table. “Don’t talk down to me, boy. You got this operation because you’re the boss’s son, not because you are particularly skilled at running shit in the Family. Yeah, yeah, I take out trash and clean up other’s mistakes, no doubt, I will be back here cleaning up yours. But just remember one thing, not you or the boss has ever had to clean up my mistakes, so you should take the help when it is offered.”

Antony kept his appearance calm while inside his rage ran hot like molten lava threatening to boil over, “We shouldn’t have to clean up your mess because that’s not our jobs, it’s yours.” Torre held his eyes. It took a moment before Torre remembered himself, but Antony waited. Torre sat back down visibly shaken by his anger.

Antony observed Torre, one day he would either kill this man or order his death. But for now, he would deal with his insubordination. “Do you want to die early? Is that why you are testing me like this? Because, I can’t understand it. I am the underboss, I will be the boss when my father turns the Family over to me. Shouldn’t you be fake kissing my ass like you do my father? You know the Family isn’t very forgiving when we feel crossed.” Antony adjusted his cufflinks again and stared at Torre. Antony shook his head, “This is not the place for this discussion there are too many ears, but I won’t forget that we need to finish this.”

Antony stood and smiled a cold frightening smile at Torre, Antony had executed more people than Torre could imagine. But Antony never glorified murder, it was a part of being in the Family but it wasn’t glamorous and it came with a heavy burden. If Antony could solve things with discussion or maybe a sit-down, he would, but if he couldn’t…well, then he couldn’t. With this conversation, Antony knew there were no more conversations or sit-downs left between him and Torre.

Antony walked to the conference room door, his hand on the door knob, he said over his shoulder. “Torre, I trust you can see yourself out.”

He left the conference room to find his office. He walked down the hallway that lead to an array of cubicles. Antony grimaced. He hated cubicles, they were unsightly, and these looked like they came from the eighties, some were even discolored. Maybe they are from the eighties, Antony thought. Those would need to go. He walked and watched people work and whisper. A woman with curly brown hair stood in his path. “Hello sir, can I help you find anything?”

Antony looked down at her. She was cute, but he didn’t mix business and pleasure the way people thought he did. This was one rule he learned never to break. He wouldn’t become the womanizer many assumed him to be, and she wasn’t his type to begin with.

Antony flexed his shoulders, and tried to relax his body that was still tight from the confrontation with Torre. Antony let it all go and gave the woman one of his signature charming smiles, “Yes, I am looking for the CEO’s office.” Her smile faded for half a second. Antony saw the moment she realized who he was, and the moment she appreciated his good looks. Antony had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at what always came next, she would try to flirt with him. She could try all she wanted, most women did, he knew how to handle petty flirtations and crushes. They worked in his favor most of the time. The women who wanted him only saw the surface of his personality, what he showed them, what he needed them to see, the smile, the charm, the money, it all worked toward his end game to hide the darkness within. If anyone discovered the darkness that sometimes threatened to overwhelm him, he would lose everything.

He widened his smile and held out his arm suggesting that she could lead the way. He watched her, she stood frozen for a few seconds before she remembered herself. “Yes, follow me, my name is Terri Henderson, I am an accountant. If you ever need anything, my cube is not too far from your office.”

“Thank you Terri. I will keep that in mind.” Antony said.

They walked a few feet, turning left and right before Terri said, “Oh, here we are. This is the CEO’s office.” They stopped in front of one of two offices lined up against the back wall. He wondered who held the other office, he would find out soon enough. He opened the door and walked inside. Terri stepped into the room with him. He looked at her, “Thank you, I can take it from here.”

Antony could tell the exact moment she came out of her stupor, because her face reddened from his obvious dismissal. “Yes, of course.” She said before turning to leave. She opened the door, then called over her shoulder. “Would you like the door open or closed?”

“Closed please.” Antony said then turned to look around his new office. The office was dreadful. The sofa’s patterns made him dizzy, the large hanging pictures of Paris and Rome were tacky, and the desk was made of oak that stuck out, and fit none of the three different styles Peter had thrown together. Peter’s office was a melting pot of styles, in a word it was hideous.

Antony wasn’t a prima donna, but he believed in having style. Antony rubbed his neck, feeling the tension pull between his shoulders. He sat on the distasteful sofas and pulled out his phone to dial his executive assistant. Sandra had been with him for the last three years and they worked well together.

The phone rang three times. “Hello, Antony.”

“Hey Sandra, what’s your ETA to the office?” he asked.

“I had to pick up a few things, like your breakfast, I know you haven’t eaten yet.”

Antony smiled, “You know me too well.”

She laughed. “Of course I do. That is why you keep me around.”

“True. Did you schedule the meeting, I asked for?”

“Yes, just did it, it is in the conference room at eleven.”

“Great. Come straight to my office when you get here.” Antony hung up the phone.