chapter 3

Rosalie

I’m still reeling from my encounter. What the fuck did I just do?

Here I am, trying to lay low, and I just end up making love to a stranger in a very dangerous bar, making him a very dangerous liaison.

Who was he?

I’ve been working here at the White Rabbit for over two months.

I’d never noticed him before, and with the hit out on me, I made a note of every single person in my surroundings.

After all, anyone could be my assassin.

But I’ve never seen him before so I assume, hopefully, that I’ll never see him again.

But damn, he was good.

I look at the clock. It’s almost 3:00 am. I need to get some sleep.

Thankfully, my bedroom is right above, which was one reason I took this job.

I never had to leave the underground. I missed the sunlight ... occasionally.

But it was safer indoors.

As I finish locking up the last of the alcohol, the door swings open.

I feel my heart turn to stone. Who is it now? They had the passcode, so I hoped it was a drunk regular hoping for a nightcap.

I turn to face the intruder slowly.

My face turns ashen white.

“How did you find me?” I ask.

A man from my distant past stands before me. My father had him banned from New York a decade ago. The last time I saw him, his hair was pitch black.

Now it’s sprinkled with grey.

I could never forget “Redneck.” He was the orchestra to the violence surrounding us in our childhoods.

There to protect us when we were in danger - until he sold our family secrets for a million bucks.

Hopefully, given how distant he’s been from the ongoings of the Battaglia family, he won’t know I’m on the run.

“You’re not hard to find, Rosalie Battaglia,” he grinned, walking towards me to hug me.

I oblige, for right now, I don’t want no trouble. Also, back in the day, I liked him... kind of.

“I go by Emily Jackson now,” I say, hoping he won’t ask any further questions.

“The world is looking for you,” he mumbles. “Believe it or not, your father wants you back.”

“Fuck you, Redneck,” I spit at him.

Face reddened with rage, he grips my hair and pulls me away from the bar. I am now on the floor, and he pulls me to the door. “Talk like that again, Principessa, and I’ll take you right back to Daddy.”

Only a man like Redneck could call me princess while pulling me like an animal.

“Okay, okay,” I screech, twisting his hand until he lets go of my hand, and I jump to my feet. “You want to talk? Let’s talk.”

I walk to the bar and pour us both drinks. Even while my back is to him, my ears are focused on the slightest sound of movement.

I jerk when I hear the sound of chairs pulling out.

I turn and carry over the two scotch sodas I made. To go through this, I prefer my drinks to be strong too.

Redneck’s eyes are softer now. I can tell he feels some affection toward his old friend.

I just want to know why.

“Rosalie,” he says, leaning back on his chair. “People have been sheltering you, haven’t they? Spying in New York in your stead, getting you this job, this new identity.”

“I never asked them to. And I pay them well for protection, so it’s not like they have feelings for me.”

His hands curl into fists almost violently. “It’s because they’re women, isn’t it?” he asks. “You always think you can use women as a shield. Never fucking men.”

“I just don’t understand you,” I say, ignoring his comment. “I made a deal with them, though! We made a deal that benefits me as well.”

“How much do you pay them for protection? What do they do for you? I heard it’s a crazy women’s network. Some group of hackers?”

I shake my head with disbelief. He had no limits. No loyalty to anyone.

“Rosalie,” he says, leaning forward to taunt me. “You think you’re smart, don’t you. That you can outwit the people around you. But you’re not like that. You could outwit because you had the mafioso.”

“You think that I’m stupid because I was born into privilege? That doesn’t mean a thing. I wasn’t born spoiled. I worked hard for a lot of things in my life. Almost everything.”

“Yeah, I saw how hard you worked under Felix Carlisi,” he grunted.

Felix Carlisi ... The Felix Carlisi? The latest Don, aka mafia head for the Carlisi empire?

“Stop fucking with my head, Redneck,” I say at last.

“I’m not. That man you were so busy fucking happened to be Felix Carlisi. Fortunately for you, I wish you no ill will. I could have walked in here and told him who you were - Rosalie Battaglia, the prized possession of Fronzo

Battaglia ... and as you know...”

“The Carlisis and Battaglias hate each other.”

He nods, staring me straight in the face. “Correct. If Felix found out a Battaglia’s in Illinois, he would have you shot or ransom you for money. Who knows, but either way...”

“My fate is sealed,” I conclude, downing my drink in one swig.

“How did you find me, Redneck?” I ask.

“Sheer coincidence. I saw you walk in here two months ago. I’ve come in since, a couple of times, disguised, to make sure it was you.

Fortunately for me, it was. I did some digging and learned you’re on the run. You’re now working with some black hat all-women ring hackers to protect yourself, right?

Incognito, they call themselves. I know everything, little girl. You’re in some real trouble in New York, you know?”

“Well, so are you,” I retort, like a child.

“True, but not as much as you. Your father is paying a ten million bounty to anyone who finds you.

One phone call...” he picks up his phone, “and I’ll be welcomed back in New York with open arms.”

A whooshing sound echoes in my skull, and blood rushes to my face. My heart begins to pound, and I tremble. My knuckles turn white from squeezing the stem of my glass.

“I swear to you, Redneck, I never expected you to do this,” I whimper.

“Do you think I’m bad for associating with the mafia? I used to think you people were awful. I used to think your family was murderers, rapists, racists, and everything else in the book. But, looking at you right now... I know

you’re not bad people. Rosalie ... I don’t want to do this. There is another way.”

“I love my life and won’t let go of it so easily. You told me you don’t want ill will...”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Then leave my past behind, and go home, Redneck. Don’t meddle in my future,” I shake my head.

“I can’t do that, Rosalia. Which do you want to be, Emily or Rosalie? Because if Rosalie, I’ll be calling your father. If Emily, as I said ... there’s another way. Protection price.”

“Name it,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Make Felix Carlisi fall in love with you.”

“What the fuck?” I screech. “Are you insane? If he finds out who I am, I’d be dead.”

“You’d be dead either way,” he says. “And he won’t find out. The only person who knows who you are in Illinois is me.

The rest of the honchos from New York ain’t allowed to step foot in here. I’ll protect you, and in exchange, you’ll help me regain footing.”

“How?” I ask, “I have no power.”

“Ah,” he says, flicking a finger through his mustache. “But you do. Once you have access to Felix, I want you to spy on him. Get me all the routes for his truck deliveries pan America.

I can sell those routes to your father, who can capitalize on raiding his goods. That way, we all win. Your father lets me back in on his good books, and you protect your little secret.”

“But... what if I’m caught?”

“How can Felix Carlisi ever catch on to you, poor, innocent, lovely, young Emily Jackson...

That’s the deal. Spy on Felix, and I protect you. Say no, and I’ll take the bounty on your head.”

“Fuck you,” I say through gritted teeth. On the one hand, I faced certain death.

On the other, a slim chance of survival. “Fine. I’ll do it.”