Indebted to the Mafia King

Eleni

We pull up to a gated neighborhood-a tall gate, but not one that looks particularly sturdy or difficult to climb, and Dante waves a plastic card at a man sitting in a booth outside. The man smiles and presses a button to open the gate. I expected Dante to have security, but I didn't expect his security to look like a rent-a-cop. I frown as he drives inside.

The houses past the gate shock me even further. They're bigger than the apartment Mama, Baba, Christos, and I shared, bigger than anything I've seen in the city, but they still look...normal. Two stories. A few big, dramatic windows here and there, but only on a few of the houses. Sizable yards, but not big enough for anything more than a nice patio and a swing set. And there are more houses than I thought, too. A couple dozen, all sharing the security that I assumed Dante needed for himself.

When he pulls up to a completely normal house at the end of one of several cul-de-sacs, my mouth falls open. He's a boss, right? Why does he live in a house that looks like somebody plucked it out of New Jersey?

He takes one look at me and chuckles. "Not impressed?"

I shut my mouth and shake my head. "No, no."

"Don't worry." He climbs out of the car and circles around to open my door before I can. "I like being underestimated."

Since he just said he wasn't going to kill me, and that he saved Mama, I swallow down a comment about how much I doubt anybody has ever underestimated a man who looks like him. He leads me along the curved stone driveway, up a few matching steps, and opens the slate blue front door.

"Zouzouni!" Mama shrieks as she barrels into me.

I wrap my arms around her and stumble back a step, but I can't think about falling, or about how much colliding with her makes my head hurt. She's alive. She's here, and real, and breathing in my arms. I burst into tears and clutch her tighter, inhaling the scent of her night cream, still lingering on her skin.

"I hate to break this up," Dante says, "but is there any chance I could convince you to step inside? I fear the neighbors may have questions soon."

I release Mama with a nod and try to swipe at my tears. She's less interested in taking Dante's orders. She clings to my hand, and I have to drag her inside. At this distance, I can finally actually see her. She's still wearing the nightgown and pants I last saw her in, though someone seems to have given her a sweatshirt as well. Dark bags sag under her eyes, but I don't see any injuries on her.

"Oh." She cups my battered face, and I try not to flinch as she presses on a bruise. "What did they do to you?"

I pat her hand despite the pain. "Don't worry, Mama. Frank's dead."

"What?" Wide-eyed, she looks from me to Dante, who nods.

She doesn't release my hand, but she flings her free arm around him, blabbering thanks in English and Greek. I stand a bit apart from the hug. Why is she thanking him? She knows he's a boss. She knows what involvement with him means. "It was, ah, nothing." Dante carefully disentangles himself from her embrace. "Can I show you the kitchen? I have a bit of business to take care of, but I don't want to leave you hungry."

My stomach gurgles around the handful of French fries and martini. "Food sounds good."

Mama nods and follows after him like a duckling, though she looks back at me every few seconds, like she's worried I'm going to disappear if she doesn't check often enough. Every time, I smile, though it makes my cheeks ache. Mama is alive.

Dante stops in a bright white kitchen. I blink in the glare.

"I'm not much of a chef, but I'm sure we have most of the basics." He gestures around. "Please, make yourselves at home." And with that, he leaves.

Mama takes his words to heart and finally releases me to bustle around the kitchen. This, at least, looks like someone with mafia money owns it. While the design and size isn't exceptional, I start racking up dollar signs as I look from one state- of-the-art piece of equipment to the next. Years overhearing Mama and Baba complaining about the price of replacing the fryer or the grill top mean I know exactly what not-much-of-a-chef Dante paid for this. But I'm being ridiculous. I have Mama back. I take a seat at the island-in front of a stretch of nearly pure-white marble, not the inset butcher block, and look at her. Somehow, she's already laid out most of the ingredients for kolokithokeftedes, zucchini balls, as well as one white onion.

"What happened, Mama?" I ask. "How did you get here?"

She inhales shakily and slices into the white onion. "Let me fix you up first."

Five minutes later, my face is covered with the thin slices of onion Mama swears work more miracles on bruises than any chemical sold in a store, and the tears in my eyes are finally caused by something other than the day I've had. She looks me over once and nods, satisfied. "Now, will you tell me?" I grab one of the slices before it slides off.

She begins grating zucchini. "Last night, Frank and his men came to the restaurant. He said Baba needed to pay double the usual rate, but he was willing to make a trade." Tears welled in her eyes. "He said "

I put my hand on her wrist. "I know, Mama. I overheard you talking. And... Frank had me. He made me a similar offer."

Mama's tears disappear as rage lights her face. "It's good that man is dead. No justice in this world with him in it."

I blink. I've never heard Mama talk about anyone like that.

She shakes her head. "He gave us until dawn to decide, though your Baba told him no right away. Clearly, he did not wait for a further answer."

I swallow down my own rage. Baba was killed for an answer that monster already had. Because Frank couldn't wait a few hours for the money I'd almost sold my body for.

"After they...took you, I tried to chase the car." Mama gathers the grated zucchini in cheesecloth and wrings it out, then sets it aside and begins cutting green onions. "Silly, I know, but I couldn't just let him take you. When I couldn't catch up, I went to"-she drops her voice to a whisper-"the bátsoi."

The police. I grimace. Mama is right to whisper that word in this house. "And?"novelbin

"And nothing. They sent me away. Very strange." She beat together eggs and crumbled feta in a bowl. "I had nothing else to do, so I went back to the restaurant. To be with him." She sniffles.

I grab her hand. "I'm so sorry, Mama."

She shakes her head. "It's better than a mystery we spend the rest of our lives chasing. Dante found me there and brought me here." She glances around as she shakes salt and pepper into the batter. "Do you know why he is helping us?" My face heats. Mama lost Baba today. I can't tell her what I did.

Can I? The fifty thousand dollars stashed in our apartment might be what we need to get out of here. For good.

"I "

Dante steps into the kitchen. "Eleni, can you come with me?"