Chapter 90 Chapter 90
Chapter 90 Chapter 90
Massimo
Dresden is a city divided by itself. The rich live in an entirely different city than the poor. The streets transform from dirtied and decayed to bright and clean on the rich side. Police patrol the neighborhoods and keep order. From the other side of the gate dividing upper Dresden with the rest of the city, residents aren’t so lucky.
Buildings are old and in need of repair. The air reeks of smog, the pollution a hazy presence wherever you go. Colors are duller and the ground’s gravelly and potholed. An hour could pass with no emergency attention when dialing 911…
As we drive into the deepest part of the city, I’m acutely aware we’re passing through Ayanna’s old stomping grounds. We drive by the squat building known as the dormitories for the ballerinas dancing for the Prima Motion Dance Company. The area couldn’t be more depressing with its chipped brick and barren courtyard where trees wither and die, brown leaves scattered across the cement floor.
Visions of Ayanna coming and going materialize before my eyes. Ayanna in a winter coat limping from exhaustion after another long day at practice. Ayanna scurrying after dark to make it to one of Yuri’s dinner parties. Ayanna as a smaller girl wandering out to the vacant courtyard in hopes she could enjoy the afternoon, but finding the dead leaves at her feet.
All while Yuri, the dance company, the D'Angelos and Salvatore, more than anyone, made a profit off of her talent.
If I’d known where to find my angel, I would’ve bought her sooner. An aspect of our relationship she would probably be horrified by, but she wouldn’t understand why. The thought of her suffering for years in the contract she was in tears away at me. So much time we spent apart that was wasted; so much time she spent living in squalid servitude when she could’ve been mine.
Why doesn’t she understand she’s better off with me? How can she not see she belongs by my side?
Disgruntlement festers inside me. Tension lances through my jaw and makes me bite down harder. I scowl at the glass pane of the car window.
Angelo’s with me, behind the wheel as I sulk. He throws a glance to his right. “Massimo, something wrong?”
“Keep driving.”
“Those were her dorms, weren’t they?”
“What’s your point?”
He gives a shrug. “You seem pissed off. Well… you’ve been pissed off for a whole day now.”
“My wife is missing!” I growl. “She fled from our home in the middle of the fucking night. What part of this is very fucking serious don’t you understand, Angelo?”
“I didn’t say I don’t understand.”
“Then shut the hell up or I’ll jam my pocket knife in your esophagus.”
Angelo being the career soldato he is, merely grins at my bloody threat. He’s no stranger to violence; he’s aware of what our lifestyle entails and what I’m capable of. I once murdered his twin brother in cold blood before his eyes.
“We’ll find her,” Angelo mutters, almost more to himself.
Though I’m aware he’s speaking to me. He simply doesn’t want to piss me off any further.
Night falls over the cityscape. Decent, law-abiding citizens rush to make it home on time. Being out after dark in Dresden normally poses as a real danger to anyone easily preyed upon. The creeps and criminals come out at night.
The divide between the city is never more pronounced—the rich and famous hide behind the gate leading into their neighborhood while the rest of humanity struggles for survival.
Even the city lights are not enough to banish the malevolence that lives and breathes in the darkness.
From the time I was a young boy I’ve understood how fucked up it all is. As the son of Dominic Rinaldi, I was privileged compared to most. My family lived behind the gate. We vacationed out of the state for holiday. Sometimes out of the country in Southern Italy.
Once I was older, I worked my way up to capo. I earned my own wealth so I could move out to the middle of nowhere in the mountains.
I might not’ve lived in poverty. But I get the plight of the people who do.
Yet Aya wants to return to this?
Or did she truly believe she was saving her family? Did she believe their lives were on the line? Why wouldn’t she come to me with this news?
I would’ve done what was necessary to get them help. I would’ve ensured her mother lived.
Apparently, that still wasn’t good enough for her.
“How much longer?” I ask moodily.
“We’re a couple blocks out. According to the radio channel we hacked from Salvatore’s men, they were closing in on them.”
“Ayanna, her mother and Yuri.”
“Her father, Massimo,” Angelo says. “He’s with them. He must’ve found some escape from Salvatore.”
The muscles in my clenched fist strain even tighter. I’m sitting in the front seat of the car like I’m about to smash the glass window with my bare hands.
“But Salvatore’s guys showed up. They’ve found Yuri.”
“And the others? Ayanna?”
“Not sure.”
“I don’t give a damn about recovering Yuri. He could be fed to a wild pack of dogs for all I fucking care.”
“Don’t you see, Massimo? If we find where Salvatore’s taking Yuri, we could find where they’ll bring Ayanna,” Angelo explains. “If they haven’t caught her already.”
Untold levels of stress spike inside me at the thought Ayanna has been captured by Salvatore. For as strong and talented as she is, my ballerina will always be precious and delicate in my eyes. She’s not meant to be captured by the enemy and used as a bargaining chip.
Salvatore’s infamous for the torture he inflicts on his war prisoners. Traitors that stab him in the back. Fallen mafia bosses and criminal lords that he dominates. All categories of people Salvatore is known for torturing until they beg for death.
In a few blocks time, we arrive to the warehouse where Angelo and my men have learned Salvatore’s crew is operating out of. We make sure we’re strapped with plenty of guns and ammo before we step out of our vehicle and approach the warehouse.
We’re still operating on a reconnaissance level. But, should shit pop off, we’re ready for that too.
Coming up the side of the deserted warehouse, we pass several boarded windows. The wooden boards vary in how they’re nailed on. A few of the windows are completely covered up. Others have the boards at different angles, creating crevices. We find a window with the latter and peer through the opening to spy inside.
The board still obstructs much of what we can see.
My view mostly consists of the ceiling to one of the rooms. If I strain my eyeball to peer lower, I can catch vague sighting of people moving in the background. Salvatore’s men as they gather to strategize.
It doesn’t feel like enough. It’s useless if we can’t see anything.
But then comes the slithery voice that unmistakably belongs to Yuri and suddenly sound is all we need.
“You can’t be serious,” he sputters out. “You can’t really blame me for what’s happening? How was I supposed to know they disobeyed Salvatore? I saw a tearful mother searching for her daughter and—ARGH!”
He’s interrupted by a hard smack to the face. The sharp sound reverberates through the air.
“Didn’t we already tell you to shut up?” snarls one of Salvatore’s guys. “Keep talking and we’ll knock a tooth out.”
“Bu-bu-but,” Yuri stutters. “Wh-what if I can… if I tell you wh-where they are?”
“Keep writing checks your mouth can’t cash. Salvatore’s been waiting for a chance to get rid of you.”
“I can! I can tell you. I sw-swear on my… my life.”
His blubbering, his begging disturbs me at my core.
I could be in the most agonizing pain of my life, on the brink of death, with my worst enemy holding the antidote to my illness, and still I wouldn’t beg. I wouldn’t cower to other men like a fucking pussy.
I’d take death and welcome it like a confidant.
The disgust I have for rats like Yuri know no bounds. Not only is he sobbing weakly and getting bitch-slapped, he’s offering to turn on the others. He’ll give Salvatore’s crew information on Ayanna’s family in exchange for his own well being.
The fucking coward.
If he ever frees himself, and I come across him, I’ll gut him myself.
“Massimo,” Angelo whispers, nudging my side, “did you hear that? The place they found them at. It’s another warehouse not far from here.”
“Then what the hell are we waiting for?” I snarl back in a whisper. “She could still be there.”
We return to the car parked blocks away from where Salvatore’s men have brought Yuri. The second warehouse Angelo overheard them mentioning is less than two miles off.
My twitchy heart pounds faster. We pull up outside the warehouse and rush in still strapped. From inside the pocket of the cargo pants I’m wearing, my phone chimes. Few people have this number. Only my closest inner circle.
Including Ayanna.