by K. D Clark
Finally, she spoke. “Why was my shipment late?”
“There were too many shipments scheduled for yesterday,” he said, not looking up from his hands. “I thought we were in the clear, but some ships were rescheduled due to the storm.”
She walked around the table standing close. “Well if that was the case it would have been pretty easy to pick up the phone and give my guys a call, no?”
Micheal nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, I should have. I fucked up alright.”
Without warning Cassandra’s hand fist in his hair and slammed his head down to the table.
“Fuck!” he yelled. He reached his hand up to cup his nose as blood leaked between his fingers. Cassandra watched as tears started to slide down his face.
“So the good news is I know you didn’t get searched by the FEDS. That product is in perfect condition. That means I don’t have to kill you. I also realized today that you are very stupid. How’s your daughter doing, Anna, right?”
His eyes widened as more tears poured down his face to his hands still covering his bleeding nose.
“Does she like that new Catholic school she got into?” she asked.
Micheal shook his head frantically. Cassandra leaned down to his ear. “Let make this clear, if there is anything that is going to make my shipment be even a minute late. You get on the phone and you beg Calvin to spare your life. You understand?” Micheal nodded.
“Good, clean yourself up.” She turned to Calvin and Lucas. “Bring the product to the warehouse and divide it up so it can hit the streets first thing tomorrow. Meet me at Tempest afterward?”
“See you there, Boss,” Calvin replied.
The sun was setting as Cassandra walked out of the building and slid into the backseat of the SUV. She remembered she never texted Andre back. It would probably be best if she didn’t. Andre was a relief from her Cosa Nostra life. It was like she forgot who she was supposed to be for a second and could just be herself. That’s why it was so dangerous for her to be around him. She took out her papers and rolled a joint as best she could as the car came to stop lights. Instead of responding to Andre’s earlier text she decided to check on Gio.
“Boss,” Giovanni answered.
“How are things going down up in New Jersey?” she asked.
“New Jersey is taken care of for now, but we need a capo to take on the crew. I’m on my down to Mexico now to have a chat with our friends down there.”
The New Jersey crew was currently without a capo due to rival gang issues. She made sure to have Gio straightened everything out with the rival gang, but there was still a crew down there with no one leadership.
“Sounds good. Keep me up to date and don’t stay down there too long,” she said.
He paused. “Something going on?”
“Nothing to be concerned about. I’ll see you when you get back.”
She ended the call as they pulled up to Tempest.
*****
It was 1:00 a.m., and Cassandra was deep in work on the payroll for Tempest and a few other businesses she had a hand in. She had thrown her hair up in a bun trying hard to concentrate and not get bored. Paperwork made her want to fall asleep, and considering she was laundering millions of dollars into her businesses, it made it that much more difficult. She had spreadsheets and documents surrounding her when she decided she needed a break. Calvin and Lucas had shown up a few minutes ago. They were enjoying themselves at the club downstairs. She let them drink for free, figuring they deserved it after the work they put in today. No longer able to concentrate, she made her way down the glass staircase to the club floor. Like most nights, the club was crowded. She stood at the end of the bar, giving her bartender the signal to make her a long island. Strong arms wrap around her waist. In a flash, she turned around having removed the knife from her side pocket and held it at the stomach of her attacker. She looked up to see Andre’s wide eyes staring down at the knife.
He looked up at her one eyebrow raised. “Really? You’re going to shank me?”
She closed the knife and returned it back to her pocket. “Less obvious than shooting you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, thanks.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, turning toward the bar to grab the drink that was set in front of her.
“Oh, you know just coming to grab a late night drink, and find out why someone has neglected to text me back.” He slid onto the barstool next to her.
“How’d you know I’d be here?”
He shrugged. “Where else would you be?”
“I’m predictable?” she asked as she sipped on her drink.
“I didn’t expect a knife to be pulled on me so I would have to say no.” He cocked a smile showing his pearly white teeth while simultaneously making her heart flutter.
“I was working,” she said.
“So was I.”
“Different kind of work.”
He shrugged. “Maybe but it still stands that we’re both busy people.”
She wanted to smile and drink and go back to Andre’s place like last time, but she needed to cut the cord. He was a dangerous distraction, and the point that he kept coming back for more only made it worst.
She stood up grabbing her long island. “I have to get back to work.”
He caught her arm, his touch igniting a fire deep in her stomach. His eyes stared down into hers, his mouth forming a flat line. She could see the faint line of his biceps bulging under his suit jacket. For a minute it was like they were back in his penthouse, but he wasn’t the one in control here.
“You’re running,” he said.
She snatched her arm from his grasp and her drink swooshed over the sides of the cup. Leo was by her side in an instant.
“We have a problem?”
Her eyes never left his. “No, I’m good, Leo. I run a million-dollar criminal organization; I don’t run from anything.”
He nodded. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Andre
Andre slid into the Lexus and sped off. He had men on the street competing with Cassandra’s smaller men, and it was only a matter of time before she noticed. He needed to get close, but she kept herself well guarded. Not just by the older bodyguard she kept around. She had built walls around her emotions higher than he could see over. She was smart. Working only at night and sending her underboss to handle all the big business, so few people knew who the real boss was. To say he was getting bored running his legitimate businesses was an understatement. He needed her in order to get things back on track. He knew when he was talking to the real Cassandra and when he was talking to a boss. Tonight he had been talking with a boss who realized she needed to get her priorities straight. He wondered how many other people had seen flashes of the real her. He doubted it was many. It was no question she was beautiful. Curvy in all the right places; long, wavy hair; but a sleeve of tattoos and cold eyes to remind you she wasn’t your average woman. After driving around for what seemed like an hour, Andre decided there was only one person he needed to call to get her out of his head for a little while. Matteo picked up on the second ring.
“Sup?”
“I need to get laid.”
There was ruffling on the other end of the phone and Matteo’s laughter. “Ms. Mafia Queen getting to you, huh?”
Andre stayed silent deciding not to engage in Matteo’s joking.
“Alright, fine, meet me at that pool house. You know what I’m talking about?”
“Yea, I’ll see you there.”
The pool house was as dirty and grimy as it sounded. With old pool tables and flickering overhead lights. It smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and beer. He would much rather spend his time at Tempest, even if Cassandra was going to ignore him like he was just another one of her one-night stands. Within a few hours of being there and a handful of girls, Matteo tried to hook him up with Andre was ready to go home. Matteo was leaning close to a long-legged brunette when Andre patted him on the back.
&n
bsp; “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office,” he said.
Matteo waved him on going back to his conversation. Getting Cassandra out of his mind wasn’t going to be as easy as going to a bar and picking someone up. She already had her claws in him.
The funeral had been exactly what you’d expect for a Cosa Nostra Boss. Cassandra received a lot of pats on the back. They would say encouraging words such as “You’ll get through this. Stay strong.” What they didn’t know was that she didn’t need the encouraging words. She felt like a terrible person to feel relief that her husband was laying in the casket. The mob wife act was up. No more running back in forth between prison and Gavin’s men to deliver his messages. No, she was done being a messenger. Giovanni came up beside her.
“Talk with me?” he asked.
She nodded, and they made their way to the exit of the funeral home. They walked for a while, coming to a stop at a brick wall. Cassandra pulled herself up to sit on the ledge. Giovanni didn’t say anything as he pulled a blunt out of his pocket and lit it. He passed it to Cassandra; she hesitated.
“Trust me you’re going to start needing this.”
She took the blunt and inhaled. She started a coughing fit as she tried to exhale.
“What do you mean I’m going to start needing this?” she asked.
“What are you going to do now, Cass? Gavin is gone. You might be able to fool all those people in there, but I know you couldn’t be happier to see him dead in that casket. So what now?”
She took another hit from the blunt; this time the exhale was a lot smoother.
“You’ll back me up?” she asked. He didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. What Gio was suggesting was a crazy idea. A woman had never held any kind of position in Cosa Nostra. Let alone a position of power but she couldn’t deny that she had been thinking about it too.
“Yea Calvin and Lucas too. You know they hated Gavin. They’re ready to get someone in charge who actually knows what they’re doing.”
She took the compliment with a grain of salt. Yes, she had grown up in this world and Gavin had filled her in on everything that was currently going on. But she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to control a whole organization of men.
She passed the blunt back to Giovanni. “This doesn’t feel planned to you? Like this was how it was supposed to be. Like maybe my father—”
“Doesn’t matter.” He cut her off. “This is what you want? Then it doesn’t matter how you get it.”
“The vote for the new Boss is tomorrow at 8, right?”
Giovanni smiled. “Tomorrow at 8.”
Chapter Five
One week passed with no text or calls from Cassandra, despite Andre’s attempts. He’d texted her once a day. He’d gone to the club a couple more times, but either she stayed in her upstairs office or wasn’t there at all. She was running and fast, but Andre couldn’t shake her from his mind. His guys have been doing well in the streets. Turning a good profit and definitely taking a slice out of Cassandra’s pie. He’s sure she’d noticed by now. So it came as a bit of a surprise when at 1:00 a.m. his phone vibrated with a text from her. Two words.
Come over.
It didn’t take long for Andre to jump out of bed. He threw on some sweats and a T-shirt and head over to Cassandra’s. The drive was short, but on the way there he started to worry about getting caught. Maybe she was setting him up? The oh-so mighty Don of Cosa Nostra who allowed him to take control of her body and mind for two nights and then disappeared like nothing at all had happened. It was a risk he had to take. When he got to the apartment entrance, Cassandra buzzed him in, and he made his way up to the third floor. As he walked in, he noticed the building had an old charm to it. Original hardwood floors, crown molding, and a creaky staircase. She owned the whole building, Andre knew from his research, but she chooses to live in one of the smallest studios. Cassandra opened the apartment door wearing gray shorts that could double as underwear and a T-shirt. Her hair was pulled up in a bun on top of her head, and she held a glass of what looked like tequila in her hand. She looked so relaxed as if she was just having a casual night at home. Andre knew something had to be wrong, and he didn’t miss her bloodshot eyes. She waved him in. He stepped inside and like the rest of the building the crown molding and old hardwoods continued throughout the studio apartment. There was a large bed sitting against the wall with two windows to either side. A small couch, coffee table, and TV that separated the bedroom area from the kitchen. The studio smelled like a mix of marijuana and her perfume.
“Want a drink?” she asked from behind the kitchen island as she poured more tequila for herself.
Cassandra
Andre made his way to the island. Standing so close to her she could feel the heat radiating off his body and the strong scent of spearmint. His eyes meet hers, and she felt that familiar wetness between her thighs. He reached over her and plucked the bottle from her hand.
“Why am I here, Cassandra?” he asked.
With shaky hands, she downed the rest of what was in her glass. She had been chain smoking blunts and drinking before she realized she didn’t want to be alone. The studio felt cold and lonely while the club was too loud and crowded. She took a deep breath looking into his patient eyes.
“You know what I do?”
He nodded his head. She leaned against the counter to keep her balance. “I don’t know how and I don’t trust you but I know you make me forget and that’s what I need.”
She paused, and when he didn’t say anything, she continued. “I lost one of my men tonight. One of my best men. I sent him to do a job, and he died. It’s not so much that I’m sad, but I’m surprised that this kind of stuff still affects me.”
His eyebrows fumed together. “That’s what still affects you?”
“Death. I should be used to it; I’m surrounded by it.” She shrugged.
She was grateful that he had taken the bottle of tequila from her. The weed and alcohol were mixing together, and she was struggling to keep her balance.
“How about we go sit down?” he suggested.
Andre helped her to the sofa and then he disappeared briefly before sitting beside her. He placed a glass of water on the coffee table.
He tilted his head toward the glass. “Drink.”
She didn’t argue as she downed the entire thing. She didn’t realize how thirsty she’d been.
“Thank you,” she said.
He nodded and relaxed back into the sofa. He slung his arm over the back of the couch.
“Tell me about your friend.”
She shook her head quickly sobering. She had already said too much.
“I shouldn’t be talking about this,” she said.
“You called me over. I didn’t ask you anything to get you in trouble I asked about a friend that you lost tonight which is causing you to drown yourself in Tequila. Tell me about him.”
She took a deep breath. “He was a good guy, quiet but loyal. He was there for me when many men weren’t. He fought for me when many wouldn’t.”
She shook her head clearing her thoughts. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Keep going,” he encouraged.
“Why do you care?” she snapped.
“Because you asked me over….”
“Yea, to distract me to take my mind off things.”
“You don’t need a distraction,” he stated.
“But I want one.”
“Well, I’m not going to give it to you. Now finish telling me about your friend.”
She let her head fall back against the back of the sofa looking up at the ceiling. Hot tears slid down her face. She wiped them away before Andre could see them. After a moment he pulled her into his side. She stayed tucked under his arm for what felt like hours. Neither of them saying a word until she drifted off into sleep.
*****
She woke to the smell of bacon and a pounding headache. She lifted up slightly and squinted her eyes. Only o
pening them enough to make out Andre’s sculpted frame facing the stove. She groaned closing her eyes and letting her head fall back to the pillow.
“You’re up!”
“Shhh, stop yelling,” she begged as she squished the pillow around her head.
“I’m not yelling.”
“Shhh,” she mumbled once again.
Her mouth felt like a desert. She licked her lips which were dry and cracked. She opened her eyes again to see Andre watching her. His dark hair had water droplets in it. He was shirtless and the sight of his muscles made her mouth even dryer, if that was possible.
He pointed with his spatula. “Water and Tylenol. Drink.”
On the bedside table sat a tall glass of ice water and two red pills. He watched as she swallowed the two pills before going back to making breakfast. Breakfast?
“What time is it?” She managed to crock out before downing the rest of her water.
“I think 8,” he said, his back still turned to her.
“Eight! In the morning?”
She looked around the apartment and noticed he had opened the curtains letting in the sunlight.
He shrugged. “I let you sleep in as much as I could, but I got hungry.”
He swung the frying pan around and scooped something onto the two plates that were sitting on the island.
“So why didn’t you just go home?” she asked. It came out harsher than she’d meant, and she immediately wished she could take it back.
He paused and lifted his eyes from the plate to look at her. “Is that what you would have wanted?”
She sighed. “No.”
There was no point in lying. As much as she hated to admit it, having Andre in her apartment making breakfast was actually kind of peaceful.
“Good.” He resumed putting the plates together and carried them to the bed. All Andre had on was one of her plush body towels wrapped around his waist. She couldn’t help herself as her eyes trailed down his abs to the V that disappeared under the towel. She forced herself to look back at his face. He pulled his lips into a knowing grin, having caught her staring. As he sat down, Grayson jumped onto the bed and curled into a ball at her feet. Andre placed the plate, filled with two pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon, in front of her. She pushed herself into a sitting position.