Whispers of Redemption Pt. 01

"It's nothing like that."

"I understand. Just don't let the bud blossom...because you won't be there to water it. Capisce?" Those words echoed through Jeremy's head. You won't be there to water it.

"I'm clockin' him." Jeremy admitted. By Clocking someone he meant he was assigning one of his guys to watch every movement Bruce made.

"For what purpose?"

"I want to know when he's acting up" Jeremy retorted. Paul smiled slowly. There was no way Sarah would win this fight. The mob was in this boy's blood. He looked like a force to be reckoned with...his features, his voice, the way he carried himself. In enough time he would have to live up to the visage...he would have to become that force.

"And what will you do if he acts up?" Paul chuckled.

"That's not something you have to worry about Pa." Jeremy admitted truthfully.

3:20 pm

Kayla stepped off the local bus onto Pelham Park, two blocks away from home. She stood there for a while looking at her healing knuckles. Rain poured down in unforgiving pellets. Her hair immediately fell out of the bun she had wrapped it in and clung to the sides of her face, her neck, and her coat-covered chest; drenched. She was thankful for the red coat. She watched as people jogged past her, running for cover. Her steps were slow and calculating, wet or not, she wasn't ready to go back. Maybe if she waited long enough Bruce would whimsically leave for the road again like he sometimes did. She would be alright. No she wouldn't. She took slow steps towards hell. Then she stopped abruptly, remembering the little white piece of paper Jeremy had slipped beneath her. She reached into her coat pocket with urgency. When her fingers touched the thin paper she unfolded it:

Don't hesitate to call, Kayla.

__JA

His number rested beneath the simple but compelling message. Her heart felt weak. Her lips began to curve upward into a wide grin; she was smiling like a fool. But she didn't care who saw. She wanted to laugh. She had a friend. Jeremy Alessi was a friend.

November 6th 2000 Sarah's Winters 7:00 pm

Jeremy leaned against the banister of the staircase, looking down at the swarm of well-dressed businessmen, celebrities and entrepreneurs. He had to admit his new restaurant, Sarah's Winters, was a hit. He was fond of the interior designing. The walls were a dark glowing navy blue and the chandeliers were striking; the way they draped down appearing as if they were falling. The lighting was dim, providing a cozy atmosphere...private.

"My God, you've grown" A deep raspy voice stated. Jeremy turned to see Raymond Amoretti a few steps behind him. Jeremy smiled at the old man, genuinely happy to see him. He walked up a few steps to greet him. When he offered his hand the old man pulled him into a tight embrace. Raymond was short and stocky. Jeremy hugged the man back. After a few moments he patted Raymond's back sentimentally and stepped down one step.

"It's really good to see you Raymond. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Jeremy asked genially.

"I wanted to surprise you and Paul" he replied through a sly smile.

"I'm surprised to see you've lasted so long without joining the administration." He said jarringly. The upper-level power structure of an organized crime family, composed of the boss, under boss, and consigliore was referred to as the administration. It was just a fancy way of referring to the Alessi family and a bunch of Paul's closest friends. Jeremy smiled and took another sip of his wine.

"Yea, me too." Jeremy sighed

"But seriously Gianni, you've taken the Omerta. You have nothing to gain from not considering yourself part of the administration." Raymond went on in an utterly low voice. When Jeremy made no move to respond, Raymond changed the subject.

"I heard their trying to make a marriage out of you guys and the Pelosi's."

"Yeah" Jeremy said solemnly

"If you ask me it's a good idea. Alessi's and Pelosi's have been going at each other's necks for too long. A marriage would definitely solve a lot of problems."

"Nobody's asking you Raymond" Jeremy smiled through the snide remark. Raymond chuckled at the jab.

"I can understand why you're reluctant. She might be beautiful but she has had quite a run across town if you know what I'm saying." Jeremy grunted his acknowledgment of the statement. Raymond was starting to be a pain.

"Where's capo di tutti capi (Boss of the bosses)?" Raymond murmured to himself. He was looking for Paul. There were exactly three mob families in Boston, the Alessi's, the Pelosi's, and the Moretti's. Paul was considered the Boss of the bosses...the head of the commission.

"Right over there with my mother" Jeremy pointed a ways out to his right.

"Good ears, huh?" Raymond remarked

"Guess so. It was nice seeing you Raymond." Jeremy replied

"You're a good man, Gianni." Raymond said soberly.

"Thank you, Raymond" Jeremy said. Raymond pulled a cigar out of his pocket and stuck it between his teeth.

"You got a lighter?" He asked, with the cigar still perched between his teeth

"I don't smoke." Jeremy replied. Raymond chuckled and headed down the stairs murmuring "good man" once more. As he reached the last step he turned around and smiled at Jeremy, cigar and all.

"By the way, this is a gorgeous restaurant you've got here." He winked and walked away. Jeremy walked down the restaurant steps to make his public toast and greet his guests. As he approached the miniature stage he lifted his hand towards the jazz band and the music faded away. He got up on the stage and reached for the mike smoothly. Jeremy was eloquent and suave and he knew it. He didn't have to use this knowledge as a tool either. Women actually fought each other to get near him, to talk to him, to lie in his bed...underneath him. They swooned over the power that radiated off of his athletic frame and the sensuality of his natural virility. His smile was feral yet puerile and handsome, he was finesse.

"Good evening everyone" He said cheerily. "I'd like to thank you all for coming out on such a wonderful winter evening to keep me company" several people chuckled. "I know you'd all rather be somewhere else so I'm grateful that you decided to show up anyway" He smiled "For those who didn't see the large, black, cursive words outside, this is Sarah's Winters. I named it Sarah's Winters because we actually make the best pasta in Boston. I grew up on this pasta and I...I remember my mother, Sarah- everyone say hello to Sarah" the small spotlight fell on his mother and she blushed furiously, making a shooing gesture at Jeremy with her silk-gloved hands as the crowd greeted her nearly in unison and laughed. She wore a light pink Versace gown that hugged her beautiful womanly curves. She had four children, yet her body was nearly immaculately young looking. She had baby blue eyes-quite rare, and her black hair was pulled into a tight bun at the top of her head. Despite her looks she had a humbled soul and an altruistic approach to everything. Jeremy loved her, unconditionally.

"I remember" Jeremy started again "she would only make this pasta in the winter... according to her it was supposed to warm us up." He chuckled. A beautiful sound that rarely ever left his lips "We would beg her all year round' to make it, but she never made it until November came and she would make this dish once a week until February ended. She never named the dish so we used to just call it winters. Long story short, I love my mother, so much" the crowed awwww-ed. "And I certainly love when she cooks. So I decided to dedicate this restaurant to the most amazing and loving person I know, Sarah." The crowed began a deafening applause and Jeremy lifted his hand slightly for silence. "Thank you all so very much for coming out, it means the world to me." He smiled a blinding smile and lifted his glass of champagne in the air; the crowd followed. He walked down the stage and into the crowd to greet his eager guests.

When Jeremy had gotten through the thick crowds of people wanting to congratulate him and take it upon themselves to ask about his personal life, he found his mother.

"Ma" he called

"Oh Jeremy" She said softly and stood on her tiptoes as she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his gray Armani suit jacket. "Ti amo. Jeremy, Ti amo"

"I love you too, ma" he replied softy. She let go of him slowly and placed her hand against his cheek gently.

"Have you seen Angela, Gianni?" She asked. She was calling him Gianni, which meant she was up to something.

"Ma" He groaned haggardly

"What?" She asked innocently "She looks beautiful. She's wearing that dress you bought her a few months back." Sarah smiled mischievously.

"You mean the one you made me buy her when we visited Paris." He asked insensitively and sipped his champagne once more. She slapped his chest playfully.

"Behave" She warned. He smiled down at his mother. She was much shorter than him at five feet and three inches. He stood eleven inches taller than her at six feet and two inches. The world could be crashing down amongst them she would always be smiling, she would always comfort. She had an aura that surrounded her that he couldn't put a name to, even after twenty-four years. She was all he'd ever known, she taught him how to love, she taught him how to be strong, and she taught him what it was to be a man. All at once Jeremy wanted to rip his fathers face off. How could he not love this woman, how could he hurt her so much? He knew in a sense he, himself, was breaking her already broken heart. She used to bathe him in praise about how smart he was; she used to beg him to go into business or real-estate...the right way. But somehow his father had gotten the best of him; somehow the sight of a cop would now send him on sensory alert. He couldn't walk a full two feet without looking behind his back...he couldn't sleep. And yet he wasn't even apart of the administration; the true mafia. It was just this sickening feeling of premonition. That handling legit expenses would somehow turn into icing guys like it meant nothing

"Talk to her, Jeremy" Sarah pleaded, looking into his eyes. She knew he would do it if she asked.

"Where is she?" he asked, with a resigned tone. Sarah beamed and kissed his cheek.

"The balcony on the second floor" she said merrily. Jeremy's eyes narrowed

"Ma, I hope you didn't set this up" He said tentatively.

"Of course not!" She guffawed. Yeah, she had definitely set this up. Jeremy rolled his eyes as she pushed him off in the direction of the staircase. When Jeremy reached the outdoor balcony, Angela was leaning over the railing; elbows perched on it as her hip angled seductively, making her legs look even longer than they were. Her heels were high and thin and when he made an even more meticulous appraisal he recognized them, he had bought them with the dress. She wore a strapless, mini, Christian Lacroix red evening dress and a white cardigan-it had cost him over two grand- pocket change for Jeremy but expensive all the same. The shoes well, they were double that.

"You look beautiful, Angela" He said politely as he stood beside her and sipped on his champagne. She turned to him, smiling brightly. She was beautiful...he couldn't deny that. Not like Kayla, though. Where had that come from? Jeremy nearly frowned at his slip. Forget about her. She wouldn't have a chance in his kind of life style.

"I love this song" she whispered to him. Jeremy hadn't even realized music was playing. But as he was rendered cognizant of it, he recognized the old tune.

"The Gypsy by The Ink Spots" Jeremy said

"Isn't it beautiful, Jeremy?" She smiled, lightly humming the archaic tune. Jeremy loved the song, he truly did. He highly doubted she loved it, though. Sarah had probably asked Charles, the balcony DJ, to play the song and Angela had probably spent all week memorizing the tune. Yes, they were that adamant. He knew what she wanted, she wanted him to ask her to dance...and maybe for just one night he'd make her happy for the heck of it. Besides, it was a sin to let a good song go to waste.

"Balliamo?" He asked. She grinned with her sparkling white teeth and nodded enthusiastically. He held out his hand and she took it softly. He led her away from the railing and into the middle of the balcony and as he wrapped his arms around her waist she slunk her long arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into the warmth of his neck. Jeremy looked out at the brightly lit city. The full moon shone vibrantly but you couldn't really grasp its beauty because of all the city lights and obnoxious horn blares. He sighed and she held him tighter to her body. She kissed his neck so softly that he wasn't sure if she really had. Seconds later she licked the same exact spot and he tensed, that was not his imagination.

"Angela" he warned

"Stavo sognando di voi" (I dream about you) She moaned. Her arm left his neck and she lightly traced his lips. Jeremy shuddered. It was not that he was attracted to Angela, because he wasn't. Her wanton advances were repulsive. Alright, maybe he was attracted, but it was strictly physical and ironically he was aroused and repulsed at the same time. That shudder was involuntary and the increasing blood flow to his groin was instinctual. He hadn't been with a woman in so long; he was too busy to pay attention to the seductive glances sent his way and the soft whispers in his ear at his parties, and in his night club.

"Why don't you want me" she whined, looking up into his eyes.

"Angela" he sighed. She kissed him roughly, licking his lips...begging for entrance. Jeremy groaned, eventually kissing her back. She whimpered desperately when he succumbed, delving into the scorching heat of his mouth. Their tongues intertwined in a heated passion and Angela began lifting her dress. Jeremy's conscious was screaming negations at his dumb actions. He could fuck any girl he wanted any time, he could call up one of his regulars like Gracie or Jaclyn; no one would say shit about it, and the women never complained. But if he fucked Angela, he would have to marry her or pursue some kind of relationship for the time being. She was a close family friend and even closer to his mother; it would be an insult to ignore her after he had sex with her. But damn him, if he didn't have the worst hard-on. Her hand ran down his chest and came to rest at his cock. Her eyes widened when the full length of it twitched against her hand. She gently began stroking him. He groaned hungrily, rapidly losing control.

"You feel so good" she whispered, kissing and sucking at his neck. Her tongue left a hot fire trail against his heated skin.

"Angela" Jeremy gasped when she took his hand and placed it under her dress at the apex of her legs. She groaned thickly at the contact and moved her hips against his hand wantonly.

"We have to stop" he said hoarsely, pulling away from her. Both of their breathing was ragged and Jeremy ran his hand through his thick hair in chagrin. What the fuck was wrong with him! Shit. She would never let him live this down. She was smiling at him with the most admiration and lust in her eyes.

"You want me don't you, Gianni Jeremy Alessi." She licked her lips seductively as her hand snaked up her body with agonizing slowness to cup her full breast.

"Oh" She moaned. Jeremy turned away, running his hand over his suit and through his hair once more. This had to end.

"Jeremy" she droned. He felt her hand at his shoulder and cringed away.

"Don't" He roared "touch me" he finished calmly. Her eyes were cold when he turned back around to face her, fully in control again. He wasn't expecting what came next. Her hand went flying towards his cheek, smacking him soundly. The sound resonated in the air.

"Fuck you. You can't just start shit and then act like it never happened, Gianni!" she quarreled heatedly. This girl was delusional. Jeremy glared at her in shock as his temper started to win over. She had the impudence to try to slap him again. He caught her hand in a strong grip and pulled her close to him. He leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"Don't you dare disrespect me, Angela. You know fucking better than that. I don't hit women, but trust me; there are other ways to handle such situations." Angela's body quivered with fear. His voice was so bitter and piercing. His grip was firm and his stance was that of a man that was used to being in control, used to being listened to. He shoved her hand away from where he held it midair-inches away from his face- and walked away.

"Hey, Jeremy! Come meet my lovely daughter" she heard a man say in the distance. She didn't get to hear Jeremy's muffled response. Angela stood there in the chilly Boston air, feeling entirely deserted. She wanted Jeremy with an utter desperation. He was the only way to have a life worth living; with the money, the respect...her family's worth was slowly disintegrating. Poor Sarah thought Angela was actually in love. Angela didn't know the meaning of the phrase.

November 7th 2000 Sacred Haven 3:00 pm

"Sir I can cook, I can clean, and I can take orders. I've been a waitress at the local diner on Cross Roads Avenue for nearly three years. I'm eighteen" Kayla pressed.

"What's the name of the diner?" Mr. Linden, the manager at Sacred Haven sighed, writing down Kayla's contact information.

"Ricky's Diner" Kayla replied. Mr. Linden raised his eyes to meet Kayla's. He didn't look in her eyes for more than a few seconds before he studied the bruising on her left jaw. Most of Kayla's bruises were healing in a timely fashion except for the one on her left jaw. It was deeply battered. The manager cleared his throat and removed his glasses. He pinched the skin between his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

"Ms. Warner, our waiters have to keep...keep up their appearance. We have some high scale customers coming in here. Businessmen and A-listers. You just simply can't-"

"- my bruises will heal, sir" Kayla said defensively.

"How long do you think that will take?" He said pessimistically

"One week, tops. Sir, I have make-up" Kayla tried to hide the anxiety in her voice. The manager looked at her unbelievingly.

"Does this happen regularly, Ms. Warner?"

"You won't ever see another bruise on my face, sir" Kayla promised. If he only knew how true that statement was. Currently she was staying in a cheap motel thirty minutes from what had been a living hell for so long...she had no doubt that Bruce would find her, though. Mr. Linden smiled uncomfortably and shook Kayla's hand.

"Come in tomorrow evening" he said. Kayla smiled widely.

"Thank you so much, sir" She said gratefully

"Call me, Mr. Linden" He nodded

"Mr. Linden" Kayla corrected herself before walking out.

November 8th Sacred Haven 7:00 pm

"And get this, Jeremy" Rocco said hotly "she wakes me up three am in the morning too ask if she looks fat. I didn't get angry, I didn't curse, cause' you know she doesn't like it when I curse...I even did the breathing thing that Doris taught me. After I calm my nerves I turn to her and say 'no sweetheart, of course not'. Out of nowhere she starts crying and screaming 'you're lying to me Rocco. You didn't even look at me!' I mean Jesus Christ, she's three months pregnant." Rocco rubbed his temple with two fingers as Jeremy felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

"Who told you to marry her, Rocco?" Jeremy was thoroughly amused.

"You did," Rocco said matter-of-factly

"That's right. I knew I could get back at you for stealing my girl in the fifth grade." He finished in a glib tone. Rocco burst out into deep-voiced laughter and Jeremy followed. Rocco and Jeremy had been best friends since they were toddlers. They did absolutely everything together. Rocco's father had been Paul's close friend, but had died three years earlier. Rocco had met Rita, his wife, at a dinner party and the two had hit it off instantaneously. Wherever one was, you were sure to see the other close behind. They were inseparable in every sense of the word. After at least three years Jeremy had pulled Rocco aside, into his office. Rocco stood in front of him with a curios look in his eyes when Jeremy planted both feet on the ground, placed both hands in his pocket and slightly leaned closer to Rocco.