Indebted to the Mafia King
Make it Happen

Eleni

I fidget with the waistband of the leggings Dante packed in the bag for me to change into before entering the prison and wish they hadn't taken my ring. Apparently, the whole "no metal allowed" thing isn't really negotiable. A burly woman stands on the opposite side of the table from me, one hand on her thick baton and the other on a walkie-talkie. I clear my throat.

"Vanessa?"

She quirks an eyebrow at me.

"Hank sent me." I feel ridiculous. All these code words...it's like I'm in a kid's movie, not a women's prison upstate.

Still, that makes Vanessa hit something on her walkie that dims the constant static pouring from it a second before the door buzzes loudly. I look up.

Escorted by two more guards, chained wrist to wrist and ankle to ankle, Camila stumbles in through the heavy door. She's barely recognizable. Her long, beautiful hair shines with grease in its loose bun at the back of her neck. The orange jumpsuit does the opposite of her endless whites and pastels, turning her abruptly mundane under the fluorescents. A massive bruise purples half her face, barely starting to go green at the edges. Recent. I start to smile.

She meets my gaze as she throws herself into the chair across from me, and I see something wild in her eyes. Half feral. She sneers as the two guards who walked her in chain her to the table. She's putting on a show, trying not to seem weak. Or trying to make me think that. For all that I know I can take her in a fight, especially now that I have some sunlight and calories in me, but I'm not stupid enough to underestimate her.

The other two guards leave, and Vanessa leans casually against the wall.

"You're the last person I expected," Camila says. "I never thought you'd let me get within twenty feet of you again."

I cross my arms, half just to show off that I can. "And after this, you won't. But you have something that I need."

She throws back her head and laughs. Even that seems less special in here, more like a glass falling down the stairs than a chorus of glass bells.

"Everybody comes crawling back." She grins at me. "Finally realized I was right? That there's no life for women if we look out for anyone other than ourselves?"

For a split second, that almost makes me feel bad for her. I'm surrounded by more people to care about than I can count. Then, I remember what an awful bitch she is.

"Makeup tips, actually." I gesture to the side of my face that mirrors her bruise. "The colors are so dramatic. Who did that for you?"

She spits. "Ask me what the fuck you want to ask me and get out."

"I want the name of your boss." I smile. "Vanessa here'll get you some paper if you can't pronounce it."

She shakes her head. "Are you fucking stupid? That name is the only thing keeping me alive in here."

I stare at her for a long moment, anger roiling through my gut. She kidnapped me, locked me in a cell, starved me knowing I was pregnant, all because I dated her ex. She deserves everything that comes to her here. The cold Eleni who ran the Saints reaches out a hand for me, an offer of help, and I accept it gladly.

"From one point of view," I say. "From another, it would be very easy for me to place a few calls and kill you for pissing me off."

She pales to an unpleasant yellow color. "I'm not a snitch. Don't kill me just for having a code."

"I've got bigger things to fight for than a fucking code," I hiss. "There are lives on the line. And you might not be a snitch, but you're a fucking rat. That news alone could get you killed in here, even if I didn't bring down the whole wrath of the Saints on your pretty little head."

"The feds will protect me," she says, looking desperate. "They need me."

"Hey, Vanessa," I look up at the guard, "who do you work for?"

She grunts. "Special Agent Henry Alcott."

The fight drains out of Camila, leaving her even more of a husk than she was when she walked in. Even that feral light is gone.

"Fyodor," she whispers. "I don't think it's his real name, but that's what everyone calls him."

On impulse, I pat her head like a dog. "Thank you for your help. I'll be going now."

"Wait!" She shoots up. "You have to promise. Promise I'll be safe. Dante would want me "

I stand. "Send her back to her cell, Vanessa."

Camila's shouts chase me out of the room and down the hall. The echoes ring in my ears as I take my things back. My phone lays heavy in my hand. It really would be so easy.

On the short walk across the parking lot to the car Dante waits in, I dial Gianna.

"How'd it go?" she asks.

"Make it happen," I reply.

***

Dante is gone before I get back to the apartment. A note on the counter promises he believes I'm going to get everything we need out of Camila, but that he couldn't stick around because something came up with Piacere. And I shouldn't text or call him with anything I did replace out, in case we're tapped or bugged. I sigh and show the note to Amando.

He shrugs. "Bosses are always getting called away."

I can't disagree with that, but the empty apartment does dim a little of my victory. I'm tired after a long day at school, and my thoughts drift insistently toward the huge bathtub.

"Order something for dinner," I tell Amando. "I'm not picky." My stomach rumbles. "As long as there's no fish anywhere near the meal."

He nods, and I wander deeper into the apartment. As soon as I'm sure I'm out of view, I put a hand on my stomach.

"Made the world a little safer for you today," I whisper.