Page 11 of Unruly

Sleeveless, with a low cut front and slit up the back of the skirt, the classic black dress fit Catherine quite well. The designer tag certainly helped the simplistic article along. Sometimes, simple was all a woman needed. That, and a good pair of heels.

Her mother had taught her that, as well.

“You’re wearing the gold Prada heels, aren’t you?” her mother asked.

“Yeah, the ones with the spikes around the back and heel.”

Catrina grabbed the pair of shoes out of the five others off the bed, and set them down in front of her daughter. Catherine easily stepped into the shoes, and gained five inches of height just like that.

“Don’t be nervous, reginella,” Catrina said, taking a seat at the edge of the king-size bed.

Catherine eyed her mother in the mirror. “I told you that I wasn’t.”

“But you are.”

“A little.”

Catrina smiled. “I will be there with you. It’s a business meeting with an associate.”

“A cocaine supplier. Technically, a cartel leader in this country, given the way he controls production and culls competition here. It’s not just a business meeting with an associate, Ma.”

“Except it is. He’s your supplier. You need to renegotiate some details. You have done this before with me for other associates. This is no different.”

Except it was.

“Giuseppe Bianchi is our one and only supplier for cocaine,” Catherine argued.

Cocaine, the drug that was most popular amongst their client base of the rich, famous, and spoiled. Plus, Catrina’s long-standing business relationship with Giuseppe had allowed her to open doors for the other crime families in New York. The Three Families, as they were known, controlled the state. Dante, her father, had been the boss of one before handing the reins over years before. Her oldest cousin ran another. Cross, her husband, ran the third.

“All of the Three Families depend on our connection to Giuseppe as a contact for pure, uncut, high-quality cocaine in especially large shipments. Not to mention, at a low cost,” Catherine quietly added. “So yes, this is kind of a big deal for me, Ma. I can’t really afford to fuck it up, can I?”

Catrina’s painted-red lips curved up at the edges. “I have no doubt that you will do just fine during this meeting, dolcezza. And even if something does happen, what would it matter?”

“What would it—”

“There is always someone else willing to make a sale,” Catrina pointed out. “You simply need the right connections.”

Catherine sighed, and turned back to the mirror. “We already have a connection. Let’s just worry about keeping him.”

Catrina stood from the bed once more, and came to stand beside Catherine. She brushed a wave of Catherine’s hair off her shoulder with a careful touch. “Giuseppe is a difficult man. He likes to be appreciated, and adored. Smile for him. Try not to refuse him when he offers things, if you’re able. Feed into his ego—he quite likes that.”

“I have a husband to do those things for, Ma.”

“I never said do that,” Catrina said, snorting. “I just mean, he’s like a client. When you deliver to them, you smile and be pretty. Their beautiful ghost, right?”

“I suppose.”

“With Giuseppe, you do not need to disappear. He does not want a ghost. And he likes to enjoy your presence while he’s got you tied down for a bit. Nothing more.”

“You are going to be there with me.”

“I will,” Catrina said. “This is also a lesson for you. You need to know how to handle these situations and business without me holding your hand the entire time. You intend to take over for me, then you need to take on the responsibilities of that, Catherine. This is one of those.”

“I know.”

And she did know.

Catherine was six years into working for her mother. At the end of the second year, her mother basically took Catherine from the ranks of girls delivering drugs to clients, and put her more behind the scenes. She was then controlling girls, and the few men, managing clients, and learning the ropes of what it took to sit at the top of her mother’s empire.