Quiet Wealth (Quiet Mafia Book 1)

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Quiet Secrets - Book 2

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by JL Drake

  To first loves, who held our fragile hearts and helped strengthen us along our journey.

  In order for you to understand where I’m coming from, you must understand what really happened from the very start.

  I covered my ears and hid in the space between the wall and the bed. The smell of dirty clothes and old shoes made my stomach turn. The sound of staggered footsteps came closer, and I tucked my legs up closer to my chest. Tears stung and ran down my cheeks as I lay there, terrified.

  “Who did this?” Andrew, the father with a temper like a light switch, held up a half-eaten bag of potato chips. “Tell me now or you’ll all be punished.”

  Their oldest son, Renzo, who always seemed to have it out for me, screamed, “She did it!”

  Before I knew what was happening, a hand wrapped around my ankle and jerked hard, tearing me out of my hiding place.

  I taught myself how to mentally check out whenever I was alone with Andrew and Julie, the mother. I didn’t understand why they hit me or why they made me watch their kids eat and have fun while I had to sit in the corner of the kitchen all alone, sometimes even overnight.

  I came to this house when I was five. All I was ever told was that I had to stay here until my mother came back for me. It had been four years since I arrived, and I had heard people snicker and say she’s his obligation enough times to wonder what that meant, and I didn’t even know who he was. All I knew was that these people didn’t like me, and I didn’t like them.

  “I hope you’re full,” Andrew hauled me to my feet and pushed me out the bedroom door, “because it will be the last meal you’ll get for a while.” I followed blindly, not at all listening. I didn’t have to. I knew what was coming.

  I wiggled as little as possible as the leather strap tore at my skin. Blood dripped from the wounds, as some spots were barely healed from the last time. I tried hard not to allow myself to let the pain win. There was a part of me that knew this wasn’t right, that if the cops came, they could go to jail for what they did to me, but I had my own reason for staying right now. Besides, the last time I left and was returned, they put Renzo in charge of watching over me, and that was something I never wanted to have happen again. I hated the way he looked at me.

  “You hungry?” Renzo came into the kitchen around five in the morning. I jerked awake from my uncomfortable sleep and groaned silently at how sore I was. I knew he had been watching me through the night as he often did whenever he got me into trouble for something I didn’t do. I knew the rules and tried hard to follow them blindly, knowing never to question.

  I looked away, but he grabbed my chin and forced my head upward to look at him.

  “That sucks,” he eyed my bruised cheek, “but better you than me.”

  I hate you.

  Renzo was seven years older than I was and the oldest of all their kids. If he didn’t like you, you were his pawn. My only friend here, Cara, said her brother Renzo was like a boy she had seen on a TV show. He was tall with lots of muscles. Once, when we were watching a movie, she pointed out a boy to me and said that he reminded her of Renzo, and he was a jock. I guessed he was okay looking if you were into boys at all. I was young and had my own version of what good looking was, but I certainly didn’t care. I was quite sure even if I were older that Renzo would not interest me.

  I knew that boys shouldn’t hit girls, especially when no one was looking and especially just to get the attention off themselves. It was creepy the way he stared. I noticed that Andrew looked at Julie like that whenever she wore her green dress.

  Someday I will leave this place. It’s not forever, I reminded myself as his fingers ran up and down my arm. I pulled it away from him, pretending to scratch.

  “Sienna,” he rubbed his nose and spoke very slowly as he studied me, “I need you to do something for me.”

  I listened, terrified of what he was going to ask.

  “It’s time for you to tell Andrew that you want to start working at the dockyard.”

  “What?” That threw me. “Why?”

  “Because,” he twisted a piece of my hair through his fingers, “I asked you to, that’s why. Don’t you dare question me.” He pulled my hair hard, bringing tears to my eyes.

  “I don’t like it there. You know that,” I stammered. The last time I found myself alone there, while trying to hide from Andrew, one of the workers grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go. It took Julie screaming at him to set me free. The fact that I still got hit for not coming to her soon enough was worth it. The dockyard was where they put us to work at ten. The thought of going there was why I started taking money wherever I could find it, just small coins here and there so it wouldn’t be noticed. I sometimes even went through pockets, desperate to try to hide away enough for a bus ticket for when I got the chance to follow my plan. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time left, and I dreamed of getting a ticket to somewhere safe, far away from here. I planned to get myself a hoodie to hide my face, especially from older people who might have questions about where my parents were or why I was on my own. I would lie in bed and think about where I would go or where my Mama was. That thought always twisted my insides. Andrew didn’t like it when I asked questions and would yell about how she’d left me, and he ended up stuck with me to feed and care for. I hated that I knew nothing about who I was or where I came from.

  “You will or…” He went to the cabinet, fiddled with the lock, and tugged the half-eaten bag of chips down. He crushed a handful of them to dust and held his hand like he was going to sprinkle them around me.

  “Want to rethink your offer?”

  “A beating or the dockyard?” I hissed with my heart in my throat. “I’ll take the beating.”

  “Stupid girl.” He sprinkled the chips around my feet and over my lap and then freed one of my hands. “Need to make it look real.” He chuckled like a crazy person.

  I cringed, knowing a beating and another empty belly would be coming very soon.

  A door upstairs creaked, and Renzo jumped, causing the bag of chips to fall on the floor, and the rest of them scattered everywhere. The panic on his face made me realize he could be scared too.

  “Shit,” he hissed as he raced through the kitchen door and out into the living room.

  Chicken.

  Sweat quickly formed on my forehead, and my legs started to shake. Once again, the fear that lived deep within my belly shot through me, and I knew I was really in for it this time.

  Normally, I’d sit there and wait for my punishment, but when I covered my mouth to keep
from screaming, something came over me, I moved without thinking. I undid my other hand and bolted for the outside door. Renzo must have spotted me through the window, and I could hear his laughter as I ran.

  I raced down the path through the thick woods. The deeper I went, the more I could breathe. We were never allowed past the property line. They had made that clear the very first day I arrived, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be free and ran as fast as my legs could go.

  Renzo’s laugh echoed in my head as my legs pumped and my lungs felt like they would burst. I tried to outrun the sound of it, and it helped for a while.

  I didn’t remember tripping on anything, but I landed hard with a mouthful of dirt. I lay still for a moment, trying to hear past my own gasping breaths until I dared to stand and look around. I stood beside the edge of a small pond. I had no idea there was such a place anywhere in the area. A rope hung from a tree, proof that this was used in summer as a swimming pond. I could only imagine what it would be like to swing from it and land in the water with a splash. Big, beautiful flowers—I knew they were plumeria—grew all around the edges. It was so pretty. The beauty of it all only lasted for a moment before the entire weight of what happened hit me hard.

  Unable to bear the thought of it all, especially in this beautiful place, I buried myself in the branches of a tree and pressed my cheek against the rough bark as I hugged the trunk and sobbed. Life seemed so unfair to me. Why was I not wanted? How could my Mama leave me with the Di Vaio family? How did she not know how horrible they were?

  “Are you okay?” A boy’s voice made my eyes snap open wide as I instantly swallowed my sobs, frozen in fear. “Sorry,” he said, and as I slowly turned to face him, he lifted his hands to show no harm, his wet t-shirt dangling from his fingers. “You just sound really sad.”

  “I’m—” I tried to catch my breath. “I’m okay.”

  He nodded but made no move toward me. He just took a seat on a rock in front of me. I took two small steps to the side, away from the tree branches. He looked to be a few years older than I was. He had dark hair that matched his dark eyes. They were so intense it nearly made my tongue suck back into my throat when I tried to swallow.

  “How did you hurt your face?” He spoke quietly, the way you would to a puppy.

  I quickly covered my bruises with my hands and blushed in embarrassment. He came up on me so quickly I didn’t have time to react.

  “I fell,” I lied lamely, looking into those dark eyes.

  “Must have hurt.” His voice stayed soft.

  “I fall a lot,” I admitted for some reason. “I’m used to it.”

  His head tilted to the side as he studied me.

  “It’s not a big deal.” I tried to recover, not wanting pity from a stranger, let alone a boy.

  “Is that why you’re crying?”

  “No.” I sniffed and dried my cheeks. “I wish.” My voice ran away from me.

  He turned his back to me as he reached for a new shirt in his bag.

  “Are you scared of something?” I watched as he tugged the t-shirt over his head. He didn’t seem old enough, but I saw he had a tattoo on his shoulder blade. It was a gold crown with a black bird below it. I could see it against his tanned skin, but then in a flash it was gone under his shirt.

  I blinked when he turned back to face me and tried to remember what he had just asked. He took pity and asked again.

  “I think I was born scared.”

  He studied my face again then nodded, almost like he understood my comment.

  “You want to swim?”

  I shook my head. I took another small step to test my shaky legs. “I should get back.” I tried hard for a smile, but my lips just made a funny twitch.

  “Where do you live?”

  “For now, I live at the Di Vaio house.” I saw that he flinched at where I lived.

  He stepped forward and offered me a hand. He was very formal. “I’m Elio.”

  “Sienna.” I hesitated but slipped my hand into his. “Thanks for talking to me.”

  “I’m always here.” His eyes shifted over my shoulder, and I turned to see what had caught his attention. Someone was coming toward us. My world dipped, and I fought to stay standing.

  “I gotta go,” I quickly muttered and raced away from him, taking a curved path I hoped would get me back to the house. I knew my beating would come and that it would be the worst one I’d ever gotten, but I sure didn’t want him to see me get it.

  I stayed away from the swimming pond for three months, but I thought about it every day. Most of us at the house were homeschooled by Julie, which made it even harder to find time to disappear. When the opportunity came one day, I slipped away and found my way back. Elio wasn’t there, but I enjoyed just sitting and looking at the water. I went as often as I could after that, always being sure I wouldn’t get caught.

  I leaned against the tree and pulled out the little notebook Cara gave me the other day. One of the movies the older kids were watching said it was good to have a journal to help control your thoughts. I liked that idea. I took pride in how well I could spell. I believed it was from all the late-night reading I did, desperately longing for an escape. My favorites were The Lord of The Rings and Harry Potter. Both were about surviving and making it through to the other side.

  I scribbled the date in the top left corner and started to pour the earliest memories I had on the small white pages, not wanting to forget them. Faint images broke through the surface of my brain, and I remembered the smell of something old. My mother wore a green jacket, and I also remembered being held in her arms, and the comfort of that fleeting memory sent a tear down my cheek. More words came, and five pages later I closed the book and looked back in the direction of the house. I held the notebook to my chest, suddenly nervous of what could happen if they ever found my private thoughts. I used the Ziplock bag that I’d brought my lunch in and slid the notebook inside and hid it well under a rock. I felt a lot better about leaving it there. I raced back home, feeling lighter than I had in a very long time.

  A few times, Elio came. He never stayed very long, but he would always talk for a few minutes before he left. Other times, I might find a bit of food waiting for me in our spot with a note. The first one said Thought you might like to try my mama’s tortellini. -E

  Even cold, it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. I only could handle a few bites, but oh how I loved it. I tucked his note inside my notebook and wrote about his kindness toward me. Carefully removing a small piece of a page from the back of the notebook, I responded with It was great. Tell your mama thank you. -S

  I smiled when I wrote the “S,” mimicking his signoff. I tucked it next to the paper bowl the pasta was in and leaned back, enjoying the comfort of a full tummy and the knowledge that I had a friend.

  Even though I barely knew the boy, something drew me here, and I knew he was a major part of it. It was a welcome, safe place for me. Elio never made me uncomfortable or said hurtful things. He just occasionally left me bits of things to eat, and sometimes left notes. He always checked to make sure I was okay. That was the way it went for two years, just little moments together, but treasured ones. It allowed me little glimpses of what a real friend was like. Cara was wonderful to me, but Elio was different.

  “Right there.” Elio pointed as he flipped his shaggy hair out of his face to show me where the frog had just laid her eggs.

  “Where?” I leaned in and lost my balance, and the first thing that raced through me was that my good outfit was going to get wet, and how was I going to explain it.

  “Whoa!” Elio grabbed my hand and pulled me back to steady me. “You good?”

  “Yes, thanks.” I smiled slightly, beyond thankful he saved me from a lashing, but what really surprised me was I didn’t flinch when he grabbed me. I felt no fear with him.

  “Right there, there it is.” He went back to our quest.

  Weeks later, I returned to the pond with a fresh new journal in hand, proud that I ha
d managed to save up for it without anyone noticing. As I always did, I checked our secret spot and saw a note sitting next to a plastic-wrapped chocolate chip cookie.

  Something sweet? I have to go away for a few days, but I will be back Sunday. Meet me here at 1 p.m.? -E

  I tucked his note away safely with the others and wrote a reply.

  The cookie was very good. Thanks. I will try! -S

  I took my place under the tree and let the summer sun warm my face as I thought about what I wanted to write today. Elio’s face worked its way inside my head, and I found myself growing warm on the inside. Before I knew it, I was scribbling my thoughts out on the page.

  To me, boys were nothing but annoying, mean, and cruel, but when I met Elio he showed me that isn’t always true. Maybe kindness could be found in others, but they need to be good, like Elio. Like when he saved me from falling in the pond or when he brings me treats and leaves me notes just so I know he is thinking of me. I like that in a person. I want that in a person.

  Questions for Mom: Is it strange that when he’s near me, I feel warm and my head gets foggy? Is it normal for me to study parts of his face that I like? His lips and dark eyes. But more than anything, is it normal that I want to spend all my time with him?

  I dropped my pencil into the center of the book with a sigh. I would give anything to have my mother answer these questions. Slipping it into a new bag, I tucked it away with the rest of my journals and walked back while I enjoyed the lovely taste of chocolate that still lingered on my tongue.

  It wasn’t easy for me to get away, and as I got older it became even more difficult. I was working at the dockyard, and my life had become even harder, especially now with the unwanted attention my developing figure drew from the workers and the boys at the house. I didn’t like their attention. I wished they would look at me the way Elio did. He made me feel pretty and smart. He often liked me to read out loud to him, and I loved nothing more than sharing with him that way.