Trapped in his End Game (Series)

MARISA

I wipe my face in the back of the squad car, feeling like a prisoner as they drive me to wherever the hell they’re going to interrogate me. My company’s in ruins, and now I might be in trouble. Joe says I can’t tell them anything. Nothing to save myself.

Could it get any fucking worse?

I think I probably know who talked to the feds. It was probably Jessica, but there was no way I was going to mention that to them. She probably thought she was doing something good for me.

Fuck.

They bring me into a white-walled room, with a giant, two-way mirror. I assume that there are people standing behind it, watching us. Watching me.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

The white walls resemble a block of ice and my back shivers as I pull out one of the uncomfortable metal seats. Three federal agents, a woman and two men, sit down in front of me. The balding, older man with straight, dark eyebrows stares at me and extends a cold hand.

“Ms. Toffoli, I’m Agent Eric Palmer and these are my colleagues: Agents Gonzalez and Brown.”

I shake the hand limply, holding in my breath. I manage a sort of frightened squeak.

“I’d like to express my condolences on the death of your father. It mustn’t have been easy, taking over from him.”

Agent Palmer gives me a piercing look that’s at odds with his words.

“It wasn’t.”

A judgmental tone creeps into his voice. “Especially when you had to deal with mobsters from Jersey and New York City.”

He strikes out at me like a snake, sinking his teeth in deep. Heat immediately rushes to my face and Agent Palmer wears a satisfied smile. Fuck, I’ve just confirmed what he was thinking. I clench my hands on the table.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah. I bet you don’t.”

He opens a folder in front of him and spreads a series of photographs of me with Joey. In some of them, we’re holding hands. A slow burn starts from the base of my neck and spreads to the tips of my ears.

“Do you know this man?” He taps the photos.

I shrug.

“He’s a known gang associate of the Vittorio Crime Family. Ms. Toffoli, we’ve seen him at the casino. We know Jack Vittorio was involved in Worlds Casino.”

“I don’t-I don’t know anything-”

“How did you think we were able to bust all those mobsters in New Jersey? Your dad cooperated with us.”

I forget about my plan the moment he mentions my dad. “What?”

“We were going to make a deal with him. Information in exchange for a lesser sentence. The IRS audited your casino months ago.”

No. Oh, no.

“We need your cooperation, Ms. Toffoli. We began investigating your father over a year ago when a known associate of the Rizzo Crime Family in Jersey who worked at your casino became a murder suspect. We know they’ve been involved in money laundering operations in your VIP rooms, and we know New York is involved as well. We can offer you protection.”

Fear fills my stomach like acidic soda, prickling and tearing at my insides. The whole thing is unraveled. I’m fucked.

“You’re in over your head and you need our help.”

Maybe he’s right. Whatever they drum up in their investigation will screw me over. The IRS already audited Dad. Oh, God. This is a fucking nightmare. Everything I was afraid of already happened a year ago.

Pressure builds up behind my eyes until I’m sure my skull will crack. My hands shake and tears squeeze out of my eyes. What should I do?

Joe’s face swims in my mind.

Don’t say anything about us.

Or what?

Someone shoves a box toward me and I grab the white tissue. I bury my face into the paper and it soaks up my tears, turning it into a sodden mess in seconds. If they audited Dad, wouldn’t they have arrested Jack and the others already?

“I’m sorry!” I gasp. “I won’t help you.”

Agent Palmer leans forward, his bland tie dragging over the desk. “Marisa, these people are monsters. They’ll kill you the moment they believe you’ve talked to the FBI. You need us.”

“What did you give my sister? Did you protect her?”

He sits back, looking annoyed. “She only gave us a tip. She never negotiated any kind of deal with us.”

I stare at him in shock. Aren’t they supposed to help people in danger? What chance does my sister have now that she talked to the feds and gave up who knows how many people? That fucker took her information and didn’t give a shit about what would happen to her.

“She’s not safe!”

The expressions on their faces say it all, really. They don’t care about my sister because she has nothing to offer them.

They’re just as bad as the mob.

“You fucking bastards.” I stand up from the table, legs shaking as I walk away from them, and pound the door. “Let me out!”

I’ve got to save her.

They drop me like an abandoned dog on some street in Manhattan. I stand in a whirlwind of people bumping into me as some guy in a khaki trench coat pushes me out into the street. Then I’m left standing in the middle of the sidewalk as the car drives away, and I try to process what just happened.

The IRS audited Worlds Casino and found multiple accounts of tax fraud, and gave Dad some kind of deal which probably lessened the jail time he would get, in exchange for ratting out the New Jersey mafia. They’re probably rifling through all the documents in my office right now, and they’ll find Jack Vittorio’s fronts, and then Jack will be furious.

Basically, I’m screwed.

Along with my annoying, self-absorbed sister, who in a weak moment of guilt signed her own death warrant. Along with mine. And Nathan’s. He must be furious.

I head for the subway at once and call Jessica’s phone. No answer. I dial again and again. Nothing. Shit.

“Pick up your phone!”

The subway rattles slowly to Lower East Side, where Jess lives. I hug my knees on the subway and try not to imagine her lifeless body on her hardwood floors. They could kill her easily.

Joe’s emotionless face and the callous way he wiped his face of blood burns in my mind. My hands shake as I call him.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Where are you?”

“On the subway. I’m heading to my sister’s. She’s not safe, Joe.”

His voice is cross. “You shouldn’t have left without me. I’m on my way, now.” The sound of him moving through the apartment crackles through the speaker. “Why do you think she’s in danger?”

I bite my lip, eyes watering in the bright lights. “Is Vincent still there?”

“No.”

“She told them, Joe. She told the feds about Jamie and my brother. My dad’s been under investigation for a while.”

“Don’t say anymore. We’ll talk when I get there.”

A thick wall blocks my voice. “Please hurry.”

The phone dies and I slide it back inside my purse, my eyes anxiously watching the subway map. Next stop. The doors hiss open and I bolt outside, taking the stairs two at a time. The streets roar with a cacophony of traffic and honking. It’s chaos, like the noise in my brain. I feel like I’m screaming as I sprint across the streets because everything is wrong. The moment Dad died, everything went to hell.

Please be okay. Please.

I make a silent prayer to my sister’s brownstone as I leap up the steps, my lungs burning. I hammer my fist on the paned glass and shortly a rippling figure approaches me. It’s much too large and my heart squeezes painfully.

The door flies open and Nathan stands in the doorway. The bruises are healed, but there’s still a bandage over his nose.

“Who is it?” Jessica’s voice calls out from the living room.

“Jessica! Are you all right?”

Nathan snarls and tries to slam the door in my face, but I throw my leg inside and wince as the heavy wood crushes my leg.

“Let her inside!”

Jessica appears next to him, frowning. The mascara runs down her face in black rivers as Nathan steps away with a black look of disgust.

“Why are you here?” I ask, shoving my way inside.

I slam the door and lock it. Immediately after doing it, I regret it. The last time Nathan and I were together, Joe was beating the shit out of him. I’m alone now. His face twists with a malicious smile.

“I was just telling our dear sister what a monumental fuck-up she is.”

She holds a hand to her mouth as her dark eyes crumple in pain. “Shut up!”

“Jessica, the FBI was investigating Dad for a long time. They just used your information as a springboard to raid the whole place. It would’ve happened eventually.”

My sister looks so fragile in her little black t-shirt and yoga pants. She trembles as she climbs into a plush armchair. My brother slinks into the room and Jessica hugs her knees, looking thoroughly depressed.

“Jessica, you need to leave town.”

“What?” she sniffs. “Why?”

I shoot my brother an angry glance. So, he didn’t even tell her, did he?

“The man you met, Jamie Tucci, is involved in the New Jersey mafia.”

“The mafia?” she repeats incredulously.

“Yes, dammit. We don’t have time for you to second-guess me. They will kill you once they find out you ratted them out. They already kidnapped me from work. He promised what would happen if I didn’t do what he said.”

She shakes her head as tears streak down her cheeks. The sound of her sobbing fills the room. “Marisa, I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble! I swear! I just couldn’t stand w-what Nathan did.”

“Which was?” His low voice erupts from the center of the room.

“You know what you did!”

“Jessica! It’s not worth fighting over, understand? Get your shit together and drive out of here. Now.”

Jessica stumbles out of the chair and the sound of her feet running up the stairs as her crying echoes throughout the apartment makes me close my eyes. A shiver of pain runs up my spine as a ghost image of Jessica’s pink feet stomp up the stairs, wailing. Nathan stood at the foot of the stairs, holding the remains of her favorite doll.