CHAPTER 201 Powerless
*Lisa*
The air in the car was thick with tension, heavy like storm clouds rolling over New Salem’s horizon on a rainy day. My pulse hammered in my ears, drowning out the hum of the engine as I glared at Pete, his shadowed silhouette slouched in the front passenger seat.
“Lure her away from Liam? What the *fuck* are you going to do with Virtue?” My voice cracked, sharp and jagged like broken glass, anger spilling out despite the dread curling in my gut.
My mother’s eyes darted toward me through the rearview mirror, her brow furrowed. “Who’s Virtue?” she asked, her tone laced with confusion, as if I’d just spoken in tongues.
“Virtue is Liam’s fiancée and they’re getting married *this afternoon*,” I answered, reverting my gaze back to Pete, whose presence was like a dark stain in the car. “So, Capo Bastone, tell me, and I want the truth, what’s your grand plan for Virtue?”
Pete’s lips curled into a smile that sent a shiver racing down my spine, all teeth and malice. “I’m going to make her a star,” he said, his voice dripping with a sinister promise, like honey laced with poison. “A beauty like her... Plenty of people will definitely pay a pretty penny to see her.”
The words hit me like a sucker punch. I shook my head violently, desperately trying to shake off the insanity of his plan. Kidnapping? And not just any kidnapping— Pete wanted *Virtue Sullivan*, the radiant bride-to-be of Mayor Liam Cohen, the town’s golden boy...
The man I made a deal with.
*Was Pete out of his damn mind*?
“I can’t. *I won’t*,” I snapped, my voice slicing through the air like a blade. “Find someone else to play your dirty little games, Pete. I’ve already made a deal with Liam.”
My mother’s eyes flicked to me through the rearview mirror, sharp and searching. “What do you mean, honey?” she asked, her hands steady on the wheel as she navigated through traffic, sluggish under the weight of some unseen chaos.
I leaned forward, my breath hot against the back of Pete’s neck. “Before I left for Chicago, I told Liam I’d step in as Cris’ substitute for the election. I announced it to the whole damn town at the Spring Honey Bee Opening Ceremony.” My mother opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off, my words tumbling out like a dam breaking. “Sorry, Mother, but I’m in too deep to back out now. Anyway, I need to keep my image pristine, Pete. Any hint of your schemes tainting me will torch my chances. And I made a promise to Liam—a promise I won’t break. Helping you kidnap Virtue? That’s betrayal, plain and simple. *So*. *Find*. *Someone*. *Else*.”
Pete’s chuckle was low, almost serpentine, as he tilted his head toward me. “Lisa, it’s quite simple. All you have to do is send her an anonymous message through a burner phone asking her to meet you outside. No one will ever know it was you.”
“I’ll know,” I shot back, my voice trembling with fury. “God damn it, Pete! I said, FIND SOMEONE ELSE!” I screamed, the sound raw and piercing, close enough to his ear to make him flinch.
Pete winced, his shoulder jerking awkwardly, like a marionette with tangled strings. I noticed then—his arm hung limp, barely twitching as he tried to move it. I opened my mouth to ask what the hell was wrong with him when a voice crackled through my mother’s CB radio, sharp and urgent, cutting through the haze of my anger.
“Ma’am, you’re heading toward the incident location,” a man’s voice warned, tinny but authoritative. “We strongly recommend rerouting.”
"No," Pete cut in before my mother could answer, his voice a low growl, sharp despite the weary sag of his shoulders. "I want us to pass through. Maybe I’ll spot a face I know—one that will tell me who I need to hunt." His words carried the cold menace of a wolf stalking through shadowed pines, eyes glinting with the promise of retribution.
My mother pressed the radio’s button, her voice calm but commanding. “Greg, you and your team take another route. We’ll meet you at the address I gave you.”
“Copy, Ma’am,” Greg replied. “Over and out.”
Pete shifted, his head lolling slightly as he muttered, “Lisa, you’re lucky I can’t move my arms right now. If I could, I’d have slapped you for screaming in my ear.”
“Capo Bastone, it’ll be another hour before the paralytic wears off,” my mother said, her voice smooth as silk but with an undercurrent of steel. “And forgive my daughter. She doesn’t know our *customs*.”
“Customs?” I spat, leaning back in my seat, my nails digging into the leather. “What the hell happened to you anyway, Pete? Besides your face looking like it lost a fight with a meat grinder.”
Pete’s laugh was brittle, like cracking ice. “I was taken during the Honey Bee Parade. I don’t know by who. They drugged me with a paralytic—clever bastards. I’ve already called the hospital director to deal with the two EMTs guilty of the deed.” He paused, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “Nice shot, by the way, Tía. Bet the driver’s in the ICU fighting for his life.”
“That wasn’t me,” my mother said quickly, her voice clipped as she gripped the wheel tighter. “That was Greg. You’re not the only one in New Salem with a private army.” Their shared laughter sent a chill through me, cold and hollow.
I slid further into my seat, turning to stare out the window, my breath fogging the glass. Outside, the world was a blur of chaos—flashing police lights, a crowd of gawkers craning their necks, and a white van crumpled against a light pole, its windshield spiderwebbed around a single bullet hole. My stomach twisted as I leaned closer, squinting through the haze.
A figure caught my eye—a tall man standing near a police car, his silhouette achingly familiar.
“Lisa, as I mentioned, there are other ways to lure Virtue away from Liam without anyone ever knowing it was you,” Pete said, his voice pulling me back like a hook. “Do this for me, and I’ll fund your campaign. I always keep my promises.”
“Capo Bastone, what about the promise you made *me*?” my mother cut in, her voice sharp as a blade. “I want Lorenzo."
“Of course, Tía,” Pete said smoothly, his words curling like smoke. “He’s planning to attend Liam’s wedding. We can make our move from there.”
Their conversation faded into a dull roar as my eyes singled the man at the crash site.
*Was that Dom*?
Same chestnut hair, same broad shoulders. But his face was half-hidden behind a mask, so I wasn't sure if it was him.
If that was Dom, *why was he here*?
“Lisa, what’s wrong?” Pete’s voice cut like a blade, urgent and edged with suspicion. I had slipped, my thoughts spilling out in a reckless whisper. He jabbed a button, and his window slid down, letting in the cacophony of sirens and murmurs from the street. “What do you *see*?”
The figure I’d sworn was Dom had vanished, swallowed by the churning crowd. My eyes darted, desperate to catch a trace of him— his familiar silhouette, a glint of his brown eyes—but there was only a sea of shadows and strangers. I pressed my forehead to the cold glass, my pulse hammering in my ears. “I’m just… shocked that this was your doing, Mama,” I said, the lie trembling from my lips as I scoured the parked cars for Dom’s sleek Benz or his brother's flashy ride. Nothing. “How’d you even track down Pete?”
“Tracking device implant,” Pete answered, his tone smug. “I contacted your mother this morning before my men launched a full-scale assault on Nestor’s mercenaries.”
“Nestor?” I leaned forward, my curiosity piqued despite myself. “Nestor Villegas? De Vega mentioned him when I saw him, but it was all gibberish.”
“You’ll meet him when the time’s right,” Pete said, brushing me off. He turned to my mother. “Head to the safe house, Tía. We’ve got a few hours to plan.”
“Do I have your word you’ll deliver Lorenzo?” my mother pressed, her voice like iron.
“Once Lisa agrees,” Pete replied. “So it’s all up to Lisa.”
“Mother, you can’t make me do this,” I pleaded, my voice cracking as I leaned forward, desperation clawing at my chest. “Virtue’s my friend. She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I can’t betray her. *Please*... Don’t make me do this.”
My mother swerved the car to the shoulder and slammed on the brakes, the sudden stop jerking me forward. She spun in her seat, her dark eyes blazing with a fury that made her face unrecognizable—sharp and cruel, like a stranger wearing my mother’s skin.
“If you want to remain my daughter, you will do this,” she hissed, her words slicing through me. “Or I swear, I’ll cut you off so fast you’ll be begging on the streets.”
“But Dad would never—”
“You don’t know your father,” she scoffed, her laugh bitter and cutting. “You *will* lure Liam’s bride away, just like you did Joy Taylor.”
Her words hit like a slap, dragging me back to that spring dance during my junior year, when I was naive and desperate to please. The memory burned—Joy’s trusting smile, the lie I had told her, and the guilt that still gnawed at me like a hungry beast.
I shrank into the seat, my chest tight, feeling small and powerless all over again.