Chapter 1

New York, NY 7:12 p.m.

Jarod sits in his black Porsche roadster looking at the red notebook and the headlines it holds. The headline reads "Diplomat found murdered in car" From the information he was able to gather, it was definitely a mob hit. But the question was why? The young man had no ties to the mob, Or bad debts or money problems that he could find. Which brought him here, where he is now. Sitting in this obscenely expensive car, dressed in black leather, looking every bit the part of a mafia bad guy. Jarod looks up to the rearview mirror, the reflection of his eyes. He sighs heavily, shaking his head. "What the hell are you doing?" he asks himself aloud. He opens the door and strides toward the door of the well-known hangout of possible suspects. A rather large man of around 40, stops him at the door giving him the once over quickly. "Sorry this is a private party." He says curtly, waving him away. Jarod slips his hand inside his jacket, pulling out a business card. He lifts it to the man's eyelevel letting the man read it without touching it. Jarod sees the shock register on the features of the round man's face. "Excuse me, I wasn't aware of who you are. Please come in." he says hastily, waving his arm threw the open door.

The round man now known as Paulie, begins introducing him to everyone in a completely excited manner. Jarod notices that every other man's name is Paul or Peter. Didn't these people have an imagination? Between the Peter's and Paul's he also notices there are quite a few Tony's or some variation. The name he'd picked for this particular pretend inspires fear and respect from these people. RESPECT is everything to these people, as well as loyalty. Paulie shouts across the room to another man named Paulie but calls him, Big Paulie. Jarod watches the distinguished older Italian striding confidently towards him as if he owns the place. Hell he probably does, he thought. "Big Paulie, you'll never guess who this is?" Paulie chirps almost unable to contain his excitement. "Well what I want to know is how someone got in here that I don't know." Big Paulie growls in the face of the round man. "But Paulie this Luciano." Paulie answers frightened. "Luciano?" He asks in a dispelling voice heavily laced in Italian accent. Big Paulie swings his head to eye Jarod intensely. For the first time since arriving Jarod spoke. "Luciano, Jarod Luciano." He says as he eyes the man and his surroundings again for exits, raising his hand to shake Big Paulie's. "This is quite an honor Jarod. I wasn't aware that "Lucky" had any children." He says warily, shaking the offered hand. "He didn't want any one to know about me. I wasn't even with him when he died. He was scared someone might use me to get to him. So, I was raised by Uncle Meyer." Jarod notices the swirl of respect on the man's features at just the mention of the names. "So why after all these years have you resurfaced?"

"Papa didn't want me in the business. He just didn't understand it's in the blood. Uncle Meyer understood as well as Uncle Frank. I came in to New York just last week checking on a few things I have interest in here."

Jarod was in the middle of a "friendly" pool game, all ready up a grand in cash when the man himself walks threw the door. He notices every man or woman in the place seem to stop whatever they were doing to watch as Don Corleone walks threw the bar. Jarod knew he was no longer tied to anything illegal but he still didn't like the man. In his younger days his was very well-known for his short and raging temper. For staring fights with anyone and for biting off the ear of a man who had insulted his uncle. Then as if by magic he became calm and dropped all of his bad habits, drinking gambling but especially women. It was as if his heart belonged to someone else for all of eternity. Just thinking of the man's past made Jarod want to dole out a little justice.

Don Corleone stands in the middle of the large smoked filled room and claps his hands once loudly just to make sure he had everyone's attention. "I have a special gift for my Micheal and I'd like to invite all of you outside to witness." Jarod searches the crowd of 15 or so men looking for this 'Micheal'. While doing research he discovered a little known secret. Any male at the age of 25 on their birthday gets 'made', whether they want to or not. He wasn't looking forward to watching the ensuing fight that was to take place. The initiation for this Micheal was to fight six men at once and survive then shoot someone in cold-blood to make their 'bones' as they call it. It was supposed to be some form of loyalty to these people and a means of respect for the new 'made man'. Big Paulie wraps his arm around Jarod's shoulders leading him out the door whispering in his ear."This is going to be good."chuckling loudly.

Every one stands starring in awe at the full orchestra sitting in the middle of the busy 4 lane street. Jarod looks both ways seeing the police blocking the street with barriers saying "Police line do not cross" The Orchestra starts playing some opera Jarod had once heard a long time ago but he wasn't quite sure from where. Every one parts like the red sea when Don Corleone raises his hand asking someone to dance. Jarod looks over his shoulder and his breath catches at the sight of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen walking toward the outstretched hand. He watches her as if she were moving in slow motion. Her long dark brown wavy hair, swinging off her shoulder with just the slightest movement of her head. The long black leather trench coat giving just the slightest hint at the body beneath it. Her long black leather clad legs walking toward the Don with the most beautiful smile. Eyes sparkling as if on the verge of tears of joy. Jarod gasps when she stops, standing in front of him. "Uncle Paulie" is all she says, but to Jarod it sounds like the music itself, soft and melodic, almost hypnotizing. Big Paulie slips the black trench coat from her back laying it across his arm. "Thank you" she whispers turning to face him, but stops when she catches sight of Jarod. She smiles shyly, beginning to blush at the intense gaze he's giving her. Then with 3 more strides she's in Don Corleone's arms.

Jarod watches, as well as everyone else, in amazement at the two waltzing in the middle of the 4 lane street of Manhattan. He finally remembers where he'd heard this particular opera from, it was one of the ones Sydney would listen to while standing in the solariarum of the Center. As the female began to sing her solo he can see the woman translating the Italian words to the Don. "This song is about losing someone that you love with all your soul Jarod. It's about letting them go, even through you'd give anything to stay with them, even your own life." Sydney had explained looking up to the blue sky threw the Plexiglas enclosed area.

He's abruptly brought back to the present when he sees Big Paulie walk up and begin to dance with the woman. The Don makes a motion with his hand to keep the opera going, making them play the one song over and over again. She seems content to dance with every man that walks up to take the place of the one before. Big Paulie slaps Jarod on the shoulder pushing him out toward the dancing couple. "Go ahead Luciano" He starts to chuckle under his breath at the fear on Jarod's face. "Don't worry, Micheal doesn't bite." He assures pushing him toward the couple a little more forcefully Micheal, Micheal! Oh my God! That's Micheal Corleone. This beautiful woman is... He couldn't finish his thought before he has her in his arms and is expertly waltzing her around the street.

"Who is that?" The Don asks Big Paulie crossing his arms. "That's 'Lucky's' boy, Jarod" he answers with a smile. "Oh really" The Don drawls out watching the two dance. Jarod's completely lost in the depths of her brown eyes as she looks at him with a shy smile on her face. "Do you know what this song means?" she asks in a soft voice. "Yes, it's about the loss of love." Jarod answers smiling back at her. "Actually it's about the loss of your soul mate. The ultimate love." she says leaning closer to him as a tear falls down her cheek. "Who did you lose?" he asks softly in her hair, smelling the light floral scent. "This was my mother and father's song. According to him I was conceived to this song." she answers as another tear follows the first. "It's very beautiful do you speak Italian?"

"Actually I speak 12 languages it's part of my job."

"What kind of job would have you speaking so many languages?" he asks some what confused. "I'm an interpreter for the U.N." Jarod's mind starts to reel at the information she had just unknowingly gave him. Jarod raises her hand and kisses the back lightly, looking in her eyes. "Thank you for the dance and Happy Birthday." he says softly against the back of her hand. "No, thank you Mr.?"

"Luciano, Jarod Luciano. But please call me Jarod."

"All right Jarod, thank you again." Jarod didn't seem to want to let go of her hand as he steps back from her.

Micheal takes a hesitant step back just letting their fingertips remain touching. Not wanting to break the contact with this stranger. Trying to contain the intense feelings she's having about him. They had only exchanged a few words but she wants to have more. I didn't even feel this way with Tristin and I loved him. What is wrong with me? Micheal's brought back to reality by her father kissing her cheek. "Happy Birthday Princess" he whispers in her ear. Then there was a loud bang like a gun shot and Every one's heads snaps up to watch the fireworks spell out "Happy 25th Birthday Micheal" in a blinding white flash. Don Corleone takes out an envelope from his jacket as well as a set of keys handing them to her. "Thank you Daddy" she whispers choked by emotion. "I've all ready arranged for you to take some time off from work for the trip so don't worry about it." He explains taking the keys out of her hand. He covers her eyes as he tilts his head for Paulie to bring her car around. He turns her around to face the crowd and not the street. He removes his hands and she sees Jarod smiling warmly at her. She smiles back before she can stop herself. "I see you made a new friend." her father whispers in her hair, kissing it. "Wouldn't you like to know." she teases smiling at him. "Give an old man a break." She snorts out "Old man, yeah right." smiling. Don Corleone hits a button on the remote starting the car and the same song begins to play making her turn around.

She gasps at the sight of the Black Ferrari convertible. She turns jumping into her father's arms screaming thank you over and over. She runs around the car running her fingers over the paint of the car possessively, squealing with delight at the gift. Jarod watches her hand wishing the car was his body that she's caressing. Stop it! Stop thinking like this. "Who wants a ride?" she screams to the crowd. "I think I should have the first ride since I bought it." the Don says climbing in beside her. "And how about don't kill me." he adds smiling.

"I've never had anyone beat me. I think you're full of shit." Big Paulie says frustrated tossing the pool cue onto the table. "I swear I just started playing this a couple of days ago. It's all geometry."

"Yeah well geometry, whatever, but I know someone you can't beat." he turns looking over the crowd "Hey Micheal! I've gotta live one for ya'!" Jarod watches as Micheal turns from talking with some friends with a drink in her hand, walking toward them with a gleam in her eye. "Why do I have the feeling I'm about to get my ass beat." Jarod comments to no one in particular. "Because you are." Big Paulie assures him smiling, wanting some of his money back. "What cha' playing?" she asks leaning against the next table smiling. "8-ball" Jarod offers smiling at her. "You want to break or rack?"

"I'll break" she answers setting her martini in the middle of the next table. "Uncle Paulie, can I use your stick? This won't take long." she asks chalking it up. Jarod watches as she sets the cue ball off to the side then leaning over it, then lining it up again. Micheal looks up at Jarod standing at the other end, smiling at him. "You want to put a little money on this?" she asks. Paulie smiles to himself knowing she's got him. "Sure, how much?" "How bout a grand?"

"I think I can afford that." he answers smiling smugly. Micheal leans back down and breaks hard then stands up with her hand out. "One grand" she says smiling just as smugly as Jarod was only a second ago. "The game's not finished." he protests looking at her confused. "Yes it is."

"She dropped the 8 on the break, she wins automatically." Paulie explains smiling. Jarod quickly scans the remaining the balls on the table noting that the 8 ball is no where to be found. He sighs heavily counting out a grand. He turns to Big Paulie "I told you I only learned this game a couple a days ago." he complains to the smiling man. Jarod goes to hand her the money when she stops him,"Give it to Paulie. I'm sure that's only part of what he actually lost but I really don't want it. How about another game though?"

Jarod notices a crowd gathering around their table watching the third game they just began. Micheal looks back at Jarod as she shoots the 6 ball into the pocket. She runs the rest of the table in only four shots. "Thanks for the game. It was... interesting." she says laying the cue stick in the middle of the table. "Yeah, maybe we can do this again some time?"

"Sure, give me a call and we'll make a night of it." Jarod watches as she starts walking back over to her friends. Oh, I'm definitely going to, he thinks smiling. "I think you have a date." Big Paulie comments looking after her.

Jarod jumps awake in the massive king sized bed, a cold sweat covering his body, his mind still trapped in the violent nightmare of torture. He finally realizes he's safe and catches his breath. He wipes the sweat from his face with the satin sheets. He gets up and walks into the living room of the suite unaware of the person sitting on the couch. Micheal watches as Jarod walks in wearing black silk boxers covered in sweat heading for the bar. She watches as Jarod pours himself a glass of cold water. She feels a little ashamed for intruding and a whole lot of embarrassment at looking at his muscular body. The strong lines of muscle rippling under his skin, the dark hair on his chest tapering as it goes lower on his chest, almost pointing an arrow to his boxer shorts. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Micheal says softly, in case he has company. Jarod spins around in shock at her voice, scared that it's Miss Parker. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Micheal says standing up. "I'd better go." Micheal starts heading for the door not looking at him. "Please stay, ummm..."he looks down at the clothes he's wearing, or not wearing "I'll be right back. Why don't you order some breakfast from room service while I get dressed." Jarod says smiling starting to walk toward the bedroom of the massive suite of The Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.

Micheal sits the phone back in it's cradle as Jarod walks in from the bedroom, fully clothed this time, making her groan internally. "Why don't we start with how you found me? and how you got in here past my security?" Jarod asks sternly, slipping his hands in the pockets of his black dress pants. She shrugs her shoulders heading for the bar. "It wasn't that hard, if you know to where look or who you're looking for. And it tends to help that I'm who I am." She answers smiling at him Jarod sits on the couch watching her walk comfortably around his suite, as if she'd lived there her whole life. "All right, so what are you doing here?" Micheal walks out onto the terrace of the penthouse, looking over the bustling city. She turns leaning her back against the stone railing "I didn't have anything to do today. Daddy told me you're new to the city so I thought I'd give you the 50 cent tour. Besides I want to drive my new car and I don't have anyone to go with, all of my friends are at work." Jarod finally notices her pastel green sundress in stark contrast to her deeply tanned arms, chest, and legs. The warmth of the early spring breeze, blowing in the open doors. "So what exactly IS the 50 cent tour?" Micheal walks back in and sits on the far end of the couch, she props her head up with her hand, resting her elbow on the back of the suede couch. "Well... there's the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, the Lincoln Center or The Museum of Modern Art." Jarod slowly smiles at her suggestions. He'd been to every one of those places during his first trip to New York and in that exact order.