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Renzo was a fair boss. But he wasn’t going to let you off easy when you fucked up.
“It’s a long story,” she admitted.
“And I got time. So you better start fucking talking.”
“I was working one night,” she started. “And three guys came out of nowhere. Chased me into an abandoned warehouse. And beat the ever-loving shit out of me. Tried to do worse,” she said, making Renzo’s jaw tense. It wasn’t like he was naïve to the risk that the female capos in his organization were taking that the men never really had to consider. But he didn’t like realizing shit like that got close to happening.
“They… almost killed me,” she admitted, face twisted like those words tasted bad in her mouth. “It was pure luck that I managed to get away,” she added. “And I… I went to Dav,” she said, leaving off whatever thought process had her making that choice.
A muscle was working in Renzo’s jaw, the only proof of his emotion. But he wasn’t going to let his feelings make him soft.
“And the reason I didn’t get a fucking call?”
“I honestly don’t think she could have,” I piped in, watching as his gaze slid to me. We had an entire silent conversation then, wanting to spare Cinna the embarrassment of having me tell the boss how wrecked she was.
“Alright,” Renzo relented. “Then why the fuck didn’t you call me?” he asked. “If it was as bad as all that, seems like there would have been a long recovery time where one or both of you should have been fucking contacting me.”
“I begged him not to,” Cinna admitted, making Renzo’s gaze shoot to her.
“You? Beg?” he scoffed, shaking his head.
“Yes. I begged, Renz.”
To that, Renzo sighed. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t want anyone to think less of me,” she admitted.
Renzo stood with that for a second. “It wouldn’t be the first time a capo got their ass handed to them.”
“This was different,” Cinna insisted. “It was bad.”
“Even so.”
“Renz,” I said, shaking my head at him. “It’s… different,” I reminded him.
“You think any one of my men would look down on you for getting hurt? Would think it had something to do with you being a chick? Unless you are fighting with your pussy, can’t imagine how that has jackshit to do with this. Everyone knows you can handle yourself, Cinna. You were outnumbered. That’s all it was.”
“Maybe,” she said, not willing to fully concede. I had to imagine that there were things Cinna understood about her place in the criminal world that we could never grasp.
“So, what, you hid out with Dav while you recovered, then the two of you finally gave in to the tension sparking between you for years?”
“Something like that,” I agreed.
“And, what, you decided to continue working this case without bringing me in?” he asked, looking at Cinna.
“Right,” she admitted.
“Christ, Cin, the fuck am I supposed to do with this shit? I can’t have my fucking capos running around like they don’t have anyone to answer to.”
“You could bench me,” she said, sounding a lot calmer about that possibility than I knew she was. Cinna lived for the job. It would kill her to sit home twiddling her thumbs. “Or take more of a cut. Pull jobs from me.”
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “You both need to be humbled,” he said, making my stomach curl. “You,” he said, looking between both of us, “now pass all your moves through Rico. He doesn’t like it, you don’t do it. Case fucking closed.”
It was a demotion in everything but title.
And he had every right to make that decision.
“Okay,” Cinna said, face tight.
