By Any Other Name Read Online Free Page A

families shared stake in the illicit underground world, although two held the most power around Manhattan: the Galantes and the Barsantis. They worked amicably for a lot of years, sharing control equally, until one day the peace shattered, exploding into a fiery blaze.
    Literally .
    Since then, the vicious rivalry festered, a war between the families waging, the hostility so great that the mere mention of their existence made Genna sick with anxiety, and she was as far removed from the lifestyle as a Galante could possibly get. But as far as she was concerned, those people were monsters. Her father had taught her that since she was just a little girl, warning her, protecting her, so she would know to stay away.
    "The only good Barsanti is a dead Barsanti," he'd said. "You see one, you run the other way."
    Once her father and brother were gone, Genna went upstairs to fix her hair and put on make-up before heading out for the night. There was no way she was hanging around that house by herself with nothing to do but worry about what her family was up to. She drove straight to Harlem, parking in front of the townhouse where Jackson stayed. After locking up her black BMW, she knocked on the front door, expecting his sister to answer, or maybe one of his parents, but was stunned when none other than Jackson himself opened the door for her.
    "Hey!" She rushed right at him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug that seemed to startle him more than anything.
    He tensed, lightly patting her back. "Oh, hey, Genna."
    "You're out! I thought you'd call me when someone sprung you."
    "Yeah, well..." He nervously rubbed his neck, frowning. "I didn't think that was such a good idea."
    "Why?" It hadn't been entirely her fault they got arrested. Sure, she started the car, technically, but it had been his idea to take it for a spin. "What's wrong?"
    "Your dad doesn't think we should see each other anymore."
    Her expression fell when he said that. No . "No."
    "Look, I just think maybe he's right."
    "Did he threaten you?" she asked. That would be so like her father. Wouldn't be the first guy he scared away from dating her. In fact, he seemed to scare everyone away. She couldn't even keep friends because of him monitoring her life and constantly intervening, sending his minions to wherever she was to keep an eye on them.
    "No, he didn't threaten me. It's nothing like that."
    "Then how do you know he doesn't want us together?"
    "He told me," he said sheepishly, "when he bailed me out this afternoon."
    "So that's it." Angry tears burned Genna's eyes, but she felt little in the way of sadness. No, this felt like betrayal. "He paid you off."
    "I'm sorry, Genna," he said. "Really, I am. I didn't want to hurt you."
    "You didn't," she said, backing away from him as she tried to ignore the pain nagging her chest that suggested otherwise. Man, it did hurt. It hurt like a son of a bitch. "I'm just disappointed, Jackson."
    He tried to apologize some more, calling her name, but she was already off the steps and heading toward her car. She thought he didn't care who her father was, that he wouldn't be intimidated by the name… by the reputation.
    Turned out, she had been wrong about him.

    

 
    What had started out as a bad hair day, thanks to a malfunctioning alarm clock and dreary late spring weather, quickly spiraled out of control to arguably one of the worst mornings of Genna's life. By the time she reached the criminal court building in Chinatown for her hearing, she was drenched from a sudden rainstorm and running ten minutes late.
    She sprinted down the hallway, her new black Jimmy Choos rubbing blisters on her feet, and crammed into the first elevator she came upon, skidding through just in time before the doors closed.
    Her back was to an older man in coveralls, the scent of stale cigarette smoke and sweat surrounding him. She held her breath so not to inhale the stench, but she could feel every breath of his against the back of her