Chapter 4 - THE WHISPERS OF WAR
For two weeks,
my life felt like a dream I was afraid to wake from.
Every night,
Salvatore would visit,
sometimes staying for an hour,
sometimes staying until the stars began to fade.
We talked about everything,
his childhood in the streets of Italy,
the explosion that had taken his hearing when he was twenty,
and the cold,
hard path he had taken to become the man he was today.
He wasn't just a boss,
he was a philosopher of the shadows,
a man who saw the world in shades of gray and black.
But as our connection grew,
so did the tension in the city.
I began to see more men in dark suits lingering near my apartment.
I saw the way the police cars would slow down as they passed me on the street.
One evening,
while Toby was sleeping,
Salvatore stayed late on my small balcony.
The wind was cold,
whipping the curtains around us,
and the city lights looked like fallen diamonds on the pavement.
"There are people who don't like our friendship,"
he signed,
his expression grim.
"They think I am becoming soft because I spend my time with a waitress."
I felt a cold prickle of fear at the base of my neck.
"Who are they?"
I signed.
"Rivals,"
he answered,
"men who think they can use you to get to me."
"They don't understand that you are the only reason I am still standing."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small,
intricate gold locket.
He handed it to me,
the metal cool against my palm.
"Inside is a tracker,"
he signed,
"and a button."
"If you ever feel afraid,"
"if you ever see a face you don't recognize,"
"press it."
"My men will be there in three minutes."
"I don't want to be a burden,"
I signed,
looking at the beautiful piece of jewelry.
Salvatore took my hand,
his thumb tracing the lines on my palm.
"You are not a burden, Tessa,"
"you are the anchor."
"In a world of noise and betrayal,"
"your hands are the only thing that tell the truth."
The next day,
the dream shattered.
I was walking Toby to the bus stop when a black van screeched to a halt beside us.
Two men jumped out,
their faces hidden by masks.
I didn't think,
I didn't scream,
I just shoved Toby behind me and reached for the locket.
I pressed the button with all my strength,
praying that Salvatore's promise was real.
One of the men grabbed my arm,
his grip like iron,
and I felt a sharp pain as he slammed me against the side of the van.
"Where is the boss?"
he hissed,
not knowing that his words were lost on the wind.
I kicked out,
catching him in the shin,
and Toby bit the other man's hand with feral desperation.
Suddenly,
the sound of tires screaming filled the air.
Two silver sedans swerved onto the sidewalk,
nearly hitting the van.
The doors flew open,
and Salvatore's men emerged like shadows from a nightmare.
They didn't use guns,
they used their hands and their knives,
moving with a speed that was terrifying to behold.
In seconds,
the men from the van were on the ground,
groaning in pain.
The leader of the guards,
a man named Rico,
walked over to me and checked my arm.
"The boss is coming,"
he signed,
his face a mask of professional calm.
A moment later,
Salvatore's car arrived.
He jumped out before it had even stopped,
his face a mask of such cold fury that I almost backed away.
He didn't look at the attackers,
he didn't look at his men.
He ran straight to me and Toby,
pulling us into his arms.
He held us so tight I could feel his heart hammering against his chest,
a frantic,
ragged rhythm.
He pulled back and looked at the bruise on my arm,
his eyes turning into dark shards of ice.
He turned toward the men on the ground,
and for a second,
I saw the monster everyone whispered about.
He walked over to the leader,
who was cowering in the mud.
Salvatore didn't sign,
he didn't need to.
He simply looked down at the man,
and the man began to weep.
Salvatore looked back at me,
the fury disappearing as he saw my fear.
"It’s time,"
he signed,
his hands moving with a heavy,
solemn weight.
"You and Toby cannot stay in this apartment anymore."
May you like
"The war has started,"
"and I am bringing you into the heart of it."
