Screwing the Mob

by Luciani, Kristen

  How many more fucking lies, Nico?

  I stroke the back of her head. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She shakes her head, tears streaming down her face. Black eye makeup is streaked across her cheeks, but her wig is securely in place. There is no way I’m going to have her walking around this place without her disguise. I drape my jacket around her shoulders so she doesn’t look as much like a felony waiting to happen.

  I drop a kiss on top of her head and cross the room with a few steps. I crack open the door and pull Max inside, shutting it tight and locking it behind us.

  “Okay, what happened? Do we know who did it?”

  I shake my head and rub the back of my neck. “I’m waiting to hear back from Duke.” I toss him my phone so he can see the damage done to Carlo in the back parking lot. One of the best things about this location was probably the worst one for Carlo. It’s dark and desolate behind the club, and the cops stay far away because I pay them to do just that. Nobody would have seen or heard anything, and the only way he’d have been found was if someone went outside for a smoke.

  And that’s exactly what happened.

  “Holy fuck,” Max mutters. “Where is he now?”

  “Max, I don’t fucking know anything!” I let out a deep sigh and slap my hands on my pants. Christ, I can’t lose my shit right now. Not in front of Shaye. Not in front of anyone.

  Max furrows his brow at me, his lips stretched into a tight line. “Relax. We’ll figure it all out.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” I button the front of my shirt and slip on my shoes, avoiding Shaye’s tearful stare. Keep it together, asshole. If not for you, then for her.

  He tosses my phone back to me and I dial another number, one that seems to be on speed dial for me lately. “Doc? Yeah, it’s me. I need you down here. Yesterday.”

  “I’ll leave now.”

  Click.

  I look up and meet Shaye’s gaze. I kneel down on the carpet in front of her, lacing my fingers with hers. “Babe, we need to go.”

  She nods, her hands shaking in my grasp. “O-okay.” I pull her to her feet, steadying her in her heels.

  “Where are you taking her? She’s not leaving.” Max shakes his head. “She needs to be here with us. She’ll be protected if we’re all around her.”

  I cup her quivering chin and look into her eyes. The fear, the panic, the terror…fuck, this is all on me. “We’re going to my office. She can stay there until we take care of this. It’ll give me time to figure out what to do next.”

  Shaye clutches the jacket around her shoulders, and I look over at her. “Stay close to me. Don’t look at anyone, understand?”

  She nods, and I open the door, scanning the hallway, seeing nothing that would make me raise an eyebrow. My guests are very occupied at this moment, in some capacity or other. Getting off is their primary goal for the night. I grasp Shaye’s hand and pull her close, Max following close behind. We snake our way through the crowd in the direction of my private elevator when a hand grabs my shoulder.

  I stop short and take a deep breath before turning toward the owner of that hand. A deep scowl settles into my face as I make my move. Jackson Brody, a cocksucker of a real estate investor, smirks at me.

  “Salesi. I need a meeting.”

  I cock an eyebrow and shrug off his hand. “You know what to do.”

  “I’m tired of talking to your bitch secretary. I’ve got a deal that—”

  Rage bubbles in my chest and in a few seconds, I’m gonna let it erupt the fuck out of me. Brody, beware. I drop Shaye’s hand and push into Jackson’s chest, hissing just like the snake he is. “Don’t fucking touch me, Brody. I don’t talk business down here or anywhere in public, for that matter. You have something for me? Get a fucking meeting on my calendar. And if you see me again before that happens, walk in the other fucking direction.”

  I can actually see Jackson’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat. I like to think I’m pretty civil when people approach me, but tonight is a very fucking bad night, and I have zero tolerance for shitheads like Jackson Brody right now.

  He manages a weak smile and nods, backing away from me. It’s only then that I notice a petite redhead standing next to him. Dipshit is probably trying to nail her and figured if he could get a reaction out of me, he’d have her on her back before the night is over.

  Too bad for him the reaction he got isn’t the one that’s gonna get him laid.

  “Dude, calm the fuck down,” Max grumbles as I pull Shaye past Brody around the corner toward the elevator.

  I stab at the Up button and turn the key into the lock since it’s my own private one. Nobody enters unless I’m along for the ride.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down,” I growl, stepping into the elevator once the door opens. My throat is tight, and I can barely squeeze out the words. Sweat beads pop up along the back of my neck. I have no idea what to expect once we get off this elevator. I have no idea what to expect once we leave the club tonight. And I have no fucking idea how to make this okay for Shaye.

  “He drops a shit ton of cash here, Nico.”

  “I don’t need his money,” I grumble, cracking my knuckles one at a time. It’s a bad fucking habit, one I really need to drop once I’m stress-free.

  Which will be never, so I guess I’m destined for arthritis—that is, if I live long enough.

  “You can’t treat clients like that because you’re having a bad night.”

  “You’re telling me not to lose my shit?”

  “Yep. I’m trying to do my fucking job, asshole. That includes keeping the guests happy.”

  I shake my head. I’m in the Twilight Zone.

  The elevator creeps up to the second floor, and thoughts rattle my brain as the seconds tick past. I haven’t told anyone my suspicions yet about Luca being the killer. I wonder how long it’s going to take for them to realize what…or rather, who…we’re dealing with.

  I can see Max studying me out of the corner of my eye, but I won’t meet his questioning gaze. I don’t want to encourage him. I’ve said plenty already. Let him figure it the fuck out from here. And I don’t want to answer any questions in front of Shaye. I hope he keeps his mouth shut until I can get her into my office and away from the reality that has become my fucking life.

  Ding!

  The doors open, and I poke my head out, saying a silent prayer just before my eyes dart up and down the darkened hallway. I don’t see anyone, so I walk out, pulling Shaye behind me. I unlock my office, push her inside, and point at Max while I grab my gun from the top drawer. “Stay here. Don’t open the door for anyone. Wait for me, understand?”

  He nods and shuts the door. I hear the lock flip, and I turn on my heel in the direction of a nearby private staircase. No elevator leads to the back entrance of the club. This area of Culaccino is always on lockdown. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I round a corner and jog down the steps. My hand slides over the gun tucked into the back of my pants, and I take a deep breath before pushing open the back door.

  I peer around the parking lot and spot Duke hunched over a motionless Carlo next to the dumpster. Rocco is kneeling next to him, his head lowered.

  “What the fuck happened?” I growl, running over to them.

  Duke runs a hand over his shiny bald head and lets out a deep sigh. “I came out for a smoke and found him laying here. Nico…” He lifts one of Carlo’s arms. “This wasn’t just a fucking beating. Someone crushed his bones. This wasn’t done with a weapon. This shit was done by hand.”

  Brutalized. The guy was fucking decimated. His limbs are twisted like noodles, his chest smashed in, his neck…Christ, someone punched right through his goddamn throat.

  I fall to the ground next to my guys. “Did you ask around? Did anyone see anything? What about the security cameras?”

  Duke shakes his head. “I checked the feeds. Nothing.”

  “How the hell is that possible? One of the cameras shows this parking l
ot. How come we didn’t catch who did this?”

  Duke shrugs, not able to formulate a scenario that would make this shit-show possible, and rubs the back of his neck. I know he and Carlo were close, and this has to be torture for him to see. He doesn’t need me shitting on him right now, but the panic twisting my gut makes me anxious for any information I can yank out of him.

  I sit back on my heels and fold my fingers together, trying like hell to pull myself together. “Okay, the doc is on his way. We have to take care of this quickly and quietly.”

  “What about his old lady?” Rocco looks up. “What are you gonna tell her?”

  “I’ll tell her,” Duke says, still staring down at his friend. “I’ll take care of it. Right after Doc takes care of him.”

  I clap him on the arm. “I’m coming with you. In the meantime, let’s get him inside. We’ll wait for the doc in there.”

  It takes a few attempts, but we manage to hoist Carlo up and carry him into an empty room right inside the club. There are a few spare areas we use for private meetings. We lay his bloody body on the floor in the center of the room, and I turn to Rocco. “Come with me. Now. Duke, I’ll be back.”

  Duke nods, sinking into a chair next to Carlo. “Okay. I’ll wait.”

  “I’ve never seen him look so human before,” Rocco mutters once we get back into the hallway.

  “He just lost a good friend in probably the worst possible way, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.” A sharp pang in my chest makes me wince. Great, because all I need is to have a fucking panic attack right now. I crack my knuckles again as we walk, my voice dropping. “This is just the beginning, Rocco.”

  He nods. “I know. This stinks of Luca Cappodamo. He’s back, and he wants revenge. And the guy is as sick as they fucking come. He was out in California at the same time I was, you know, after your grandfather kicked my ass outta Jersey a few years ago. I’d heard he was doing some amateur shit since he was booted from the WFA for being hopped up on PCP for all of his fights. Dude, you have no idea what he did to those poor fuckers. He takes that shit so he doesn’t feel. He thinks it makes him invincible. He’s a twisted bastard, and if you’re next, man…” Rocco shakes his head and lets out a whistle. “You’re fucked. I hate to say it, but—”

  “Screw you, Rocco.” I grit my teeth. “I can handle myself just fine.”

  Rocco snorts. “Why? Because you gunned down his old man? Once? You really think that’s gonna help you? What if he goes after Shaye? Or your mom? Or Lily?”

  “He won’t. It’s not how he operates.” I know that better than anyone. I’ve seen his MO in action. If you fuck with him, he fucks you up. But only after he sends you a message that he’s coming. And if you get that message, read it, put your head between your legs, and kiss your ass goodbye.

  I got my message. I know he’s coming. But kissing my own ass goodbye isn’t an option. I need to change the game, but time isn’t on my side. And Shaye’s dad Tony is already on the shit list of the Cappodamo family since he screwed them on a business deal awhile back. His guys know about us. And they’ll feed Luca whatever information he needs to get his revenge, including my girlfriend.

  I can’t take that risk.

  “So you think you can analyze him to death, Mr. CEO? Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with, Nico? This guy is a lunatic. Certifiable, for Christ’s sake. He only knows how to destroy. He doesn’t understand the talking thing.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk, but what I really need you to do is watch over Shaye for me.”

  His mouth drops open. “So this is a promotion, yeah? To babysitter? Why can’t I be on the fuck ’em up team?”

  “Because I need someone I trust watching out for her. If I end up in another warehouse in Bayonne, it won’t end as well as it did last time for us. Lightning doesn’t strike twice. I need to keep her safe and keep running shit here. I can’t let things fall apart. That’s what he wants. I won’t give that to him.”

  “And you think he’s doing all of this…and using his dad as an excuse…just to get you back for—"

  I hold up a hand. “If I had to guess, yeah. But the reason why he’s here doesn’t matter. It only matters that he is here. He’s finally come home, so now it’s time to settle up. He’s gonna pay. Not only for Carlo, but for everything else he’s done.”

  And fuck, I remember it all…screams that could shatter glass, the sickly sound of fists connecting with bone, the wailing sirens, and the blood…all of the fucking blood.

  My gut clenches as an image of Shaye’s tear-streaked face floats in front of my narrowed eyes, short, sharp breaths slicing into my lungs.

  I can’t let what he did happen again. I won’t.

  Nico

  “Crushed windpipe, compound fractures to the ribcage, left and right forearms, dislocated shoulder, and based on the level of damage I can assess to his skull, I’d say there is clear evidence of a cerebral hemorrhage.” Doc lets out a sigh and turns toward me and Duke. “He took quite a beating. Any idea who did it?”

  I walk toward the portable table where Carlo lies—motionless, bloody, and bruised. “No eyewitnesses,” I reply, avoiding the question. I know the answer, but without real proof… I rake a hand through my hair, averting my eyes from Carlo’s swollen, blueish-gray face.

  How the fuck can I look Carlo’s wife in the eye and tell her I don’t know who did this to her husband? How I let the love of her life get pummeled by the hand of some sick bastard? How I could put him on the radar like some selfish asshole who couldn’t do his own dirty work? How I let him walk into the lion’s den with a fucking raw steak, knowing he’d be mauled before he got the chance to drop it?

  “Does his family know?” Doc pulls off his latex gloves and tosses them into a nearby trash can.

  “We’re going to his house now.” I rub the back of my neck, but the knot that has taken up residence there refuses to move. I glance at Carlo. I’d say it could be worse, but who the fuck am I kidding? It will be much fucking worse, sooner than later.

  I bend down to pick up Carlo’s jacket and a folded-up piece of paper falls out of the inside pocket. I grab it before it hits the floor, and I stuff it into my back pocket before the other guys can see it. I don’t know why, I can’t explain it. But my gut tells me it was meant for my eyes only.

  Duke rises from the couch in the corner of the room. “Thanks, Doc.”

  Doc nods, a somber expression on his face. “Carlo was a good man. A loyal man. He didn’t deserve this.”

  No, he fucking didn’t. Wrong, place, wrong time, wrong all the fuck around.

  “Doc, do you need anything else, or can you handle it from here?”

  Doc scrubs a hand down the front of his face. “I’ll take care of it and make the arrangements tomorrow. We should have everything squared away in a day or so.”

  “Thanks. Keep this off the radar, Doc. I don’t want it to leak yet.” I clap him on the back and nod at Duke. “Get the car. I have to make a call before we leave.”

  I follow Duke out of the room and watch as he exits the club. I pull out my phone and shoot off a quick text to Rocco.

  Take Shaye to my place in the Village. I’ll call and let them know you’re coming. Whatever you do, keep her out of Jersey.

  Luca will expect her to be at my house. He won’t think about staking out my apartment here in the city, mainly because I just bought it, few people know about it, and it’s protected by armed guards. A second later, my phone pings with a reply.

  What about the club?

  I stab the keyboard and click send. Let Max close tonight. Tell him you’re taking her to my house in Jersey.

  Why?

  Just fucking do as I say. And tell Max to keep this quiet.

  I can’t fucking trust anyone anymore, not even my best friend. Rocco took a bullet for me the night I popped Cappodamo. He went head to head with that asshole for me. That earned him a lot of fucking respect.

  But Max…he’s a loose cannon. I
never know what he’s gonna say or do. And he’s always looking to climb the ranks and stomp on whoever gets in his way. I can’t take a chance that he’ll open his big-ass mouth to the wrong person…that person being his asshole father, Tony.

  And I don’t want Tony involved. Yet. Even though it’s his daughter who’s in the line of fire.

  No, I need answers first. In the meantime, I have to keep this shit on lockdown.

  I pull the piece of paper from my pocket and unfold it. My pulse throbs against my throat as my eyes read the words scribbled on the paper, carelessly torn from a spiral notebook. An icy sensation blasts through my veins, frosting my insides.

  You dumb fuck. So desperate to get pictures of me for your boss, huh? I bet they came out better than the ones I just took of you, cocksucker.

  Shaye

  “Look, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need a babysitter, Rocco.” I fold my arms over my chest and tap my foot against the hardwood floor in Nico’s new apartment. “You don’t have to wait here. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Jesus, I just need some time to process everything that happened tonight. And I don’t need an audience for that!

  Besides, I probably have better aim than Rocco can ever hope to have. But that’s not something I need to share right now. I need Nico. I have to see if he’s okay. I want to know that he’s okay.

  “I promised Nico. I can’t go, Shaye.” Rocco lounges in a plush, burgundy leather chair, stretching his long legs in front of him. “You know that.”

  I let out a deep sigh. “You’re locked down like fucking Rikers Island. Why can’t you at least tell me anything? If I have to put up with you sitting here, at least talk to me!”

  “Shaye, cut it out. If I could, you know I would. Just wait for Nico, okay? He’ll explain everything.”

  I stomp my foot. “Goddammit! You’re impossible!”

  He smirks at me. “That’s one I’ve never heard from a smokin’ hot chick.”

  “Argh!” I slap my hands on my legs. “You’re such an ass. I’m getting some hot chocolate. And you can suck it because I’m not making any for you!”