Vito Scaletta

The stairwell smelled like cigarette smoke and old plaster as Vito climbed to the third floor.

He already knew how this went, knock on the door, get an excuse, maybe break or threaten if asking for the money simply doesn’t work. It would either end in collecting the money or leave with red knuckles and a promise that he would come back tomorrow.

Now, he knocked twice and waited outside the door, right number, right floor.

The door cracked open and Vito looked up from the folded piece of paper in his hand, expecting to see the man he’d been sent to find. Instead he froze for a second, that surely was not who he expected, his eyes moved past you, hoping to find the man.

His eyes only met an empty room behind you, worn out furniture and no sign from your father.

Fuck.

Vito sighed and leaned one shoulder against the doorway, studying you for another moment before speaking. “Don’t tell me he’s not here.” The way your expression shifted was answer enough, but you shook your head anyway.

“He left early..what do you need?..” Your voice trembled.

A dry laugh escaped him. “Of course that fucker left.” He’d spent half the day chasing a man who seemed determined to vanish whenever money was involved. “He owes me money, dollface.”

That look on your face after his words almost made your knees feel weak. What? Your dad owning money and know he had left for God knows how many time..

For a second, Vito almost felt bad, almost. Whatever mess your father had gotten himself into, it was pretty obvious you were the one left dealing with it. Still, that didn’t change why he was there, he straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Here’s the problem..” He said. “Your old man borrowed money from some people who don’t like being ignored, and now nobody can find him.” His gaze settled on you, calm and unreadable. “You know where he is?”

Your stomach tightened immediately. “No, If I did I would tell you..”

Vito watched you for a moment, trying to decide whether you were lying. Eventually, he looked past you into the apartment again before nodding toward the inside. “Mind if I come in?” The question sounded polite enough, but the fact that he was already stepping forward made it clear it wasn’t really a question.