Mafia Protection (Tomassi Series Book 1)

by AA Lee

  “Mr. Tomassi,” the worker said and walked past her.

  “What happened?” Angelo asked.

  “We don’t know how it started. Several people called in and said they saw a fire in this direction. That is all we know right now.”

  “All right.” Angelo let out a breath.

  “Let me know if you need anything else, sir.”

  “Thank you,” said Angelo. “Brett, why don’t you and Sammy walk around? And Rafa, pull up the surveillance and see what you can find.”

  Ella heard him give the orders. She envied his lack of attachment to the restaurant. Insurance would cover his loss, but nothing could replace hers.

  “Hey,” he said and lightly touched her arm. “Why don’t you sit in the car with me?”

  Ella shook her head. She did not want to get up or think. It was not as if staring at the fire would do anything, but she did not want to move. She would watch until the last plank burned.

  Angelo did not force her to stand; instead, he crouched down and sat beside her. For a couple of minutes, his elbows rested on his knees. Then his arm draped around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. Ella could not hold it in anymore.

  “It’s gone,” she cried and covered her eyes. “I didn’t know I was seeing it for the last time earlier. The fire was too big. There was nothing they could do but to let it burn. There won’t be anything left.”

  Angelo pulled her entire face to his chest. She needed comfort. His comfort was nice as his arms squeezed her tight. His chest was warm and inviting. It hid her from the reality of the world.

  “We will find out what started the fire. Then we can go from there.”

  Ella stayed silent. It was late and the sound of his heartbeat started to calm her down. She felt an overwhelming exhaustion after a day like today.

  “Come on,” he said and started to stand. “Let me take you home. One of my men can stay for any questioning. A couple of them like to stay up all night anyway.”

  Ella hung her head. She wanted to stay and she wanted her bed. Sleep would help her more than the mental exhaustion of watching the fire. She gave up. Ella grabbed his hand as he helped her to her feet. She glanced back one more time and wiped her eyes. “Why did they have to come after the restaurant?” she asked. “Why couldn’t they have just come for me?”

  ***

  Angelo helped Ella to his car and made sure he tucked her legs all the way in before shutting the door. The restaurant was not that big of a loss to him, yet he felt its value through her. Angelo felt responsible for the fire in some way or the other. His father could have burnt the place down for all he knew, trying to sever ties between him and Ella. He would not put it past Antonio.

  At the same time, Ella put no blame on him. She spoke as if someone she knew could have burned it down. Whom was she talking about? Who should have come for her instead? He was missing something.

  Angelo glanced at her. Her eyes were red. Her hair scattered with the evening wind. Dust covered her black satin gown. An empty stare replaced her happy expression. He wondered if she would ever recover as he pulled down the road to her house and finally stopped in front. Ella stayed silent as he unbuckled her seatbelt for her. The movement snapped her to the present and she opened the handle on the door without looking at him.

  “Thank you for the ride,” she said and stumbled down the walkway to her porch.

  He was not leaving her there alone. Angelo shut his door and walked immediately behind her. In her state, she could fall down the stairs and probably not care.

  “Oh, you don’t have to come up, Mr. Tomassi. I will be fine.”

  He doubted that. Nothing about her state of mind was okay to him. “I will stay a while and then send someone else to stay with you. I’m not leaving you alone, remember?”

  Ella shrugged and unlocked the door, pushing it open enough for him to go in. Her family room was small and clean. A simple sofa and glass coffee table were the only pieces of furniture inside, and a single picture of a massive cruise ship hung on the wall. Ella must have liked ships.

  “Do you want some coffee?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Why don’t you sit down and let me make you a cup?”

  Ella let out a small, wispy laugh. “You know how to make coffee?” she asked.

  Angelo tilted his head; a mocking grin spread on his lips. “Sit down,” he pointed. “Yes, I know how to make coffee.”

  Despite the tears she cried and the mascara that streaked underneath her eyes, Ella managed to smile at his remark. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Her raw emotion and willingness to still smile after losing something precious made him want her even more. Ella made him feel like a normal man. He could forget about the pressures of his life with her. He had never experienced that feeling before.

  Angelo walked to the counter and looked for her coffeemaker. His eyes scanned one end of the counter to the other. He saw no coffeepot but there were tiny plastic cups labeled coffee. Ella had one of those new machines. Someone had made him coffee from one a while back. How did they do it again?

  Angelo smiled. Of all the high-technical electronics he used, he could not figure out a simple coffeemaker. The jokes he would earn if any of his men saw his predicament.

  “Do you need some help?” Ella asked him. He crossed his arms as she moved in front. She opened the cabinet and grabbed two cups. Then she showed him the small plastic cup with coffee, lifted up the handle to the coffeemaker, and placed the tiny cup inside. “Just put your coffee cup underneath,” she said, “and then close the handle and press start.”

  There was no way he could defend himself against his failure to make coffee, but Ella’s smile widened and made his shortcoming worth his while. Maybe he needed to buy her a coffee shop.

  “Here,” she said and started making a second cup. “I still can’t believe what happened.” Her smile fell. “And the employees…I don’t know what they are going to do.”

  “The employees,” he thought aloud. “This is what I want you to do with them. Any employee who was there for over three months…give them three weeks of pay. That should get them by until they find something else. If Santiago’s employed them for less than three months, give them two weeks of pay. I think that will resolve the panic.”

  “You would do that?” Her eyes widened. Angelo almost felt insulted by her surprise.

  “I am not heartless,” he huffed.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean it like it sounded,” she tried to rephrase. “My father fired me without notice, and I don’t know of any owner who would give extra pay.”

  Angelo brushed it off. Her father was not part of this discussion. “We are not all the same,” he said simply.

  Ella grabbed her cup and a spoon, adding both sugar and cream. Angelo winced at the sugar part of it. Sweets were not his thing. Then she walked to the sofa and waited for him to follow.

  “Please sit down,” she offered.

  “Why not,” he gave in. He was in no hurry to get back to the club and grill Merrick anyway. “So…how did you know that man at the party?” he asked.

  Ella shrugged. “A few years ago, I went to a party at a hotel with my father. My father and Merrick were arguing. I guess it was over some property. Then Merrick shot my father in the leg and left. He only saw me for a few seconds, and I was hoping he wouldn’t remember me.”

  “Ella, there isn’t a man alive who could pass you and not remember you,” Angelo let slip. Then he closed his eyes and glanced at the floor. Why did he say that aloud? Ella was starting to rub off on him. “How do you know it was the same man?” he continued.

  “He had the same bald spot over his ear. It’s an easy mark to recognize.”

  “Yes, it is.” Angelo nodded. “Look, I’m trying to understand this better. You said that Merrick shot your father in the leg. You do realize that it was a warning shot, don’t you? Merrick never intended to kill your father; else, he would have shot him in the head. What were they arguing
about?”

  “I don’t know. My father was selling a property and said the owners retracted it from the market.” Ella paused and spoke her thoughts aloud. “Wait…I knew that name sounded familiar when you said it. That’s why…”

  What name sounded familiar to her? Angelo stared as Ella reflected and came to some clear understanding. He needed to know about her decisive moment if it belonged to a name he mentioned to her. “What name sounded familiar, Ella?” he asked.

  “Bonadio—my father sold him property. I knew I had heard the name before. My father was arguing with Merrick about a property that Bonadio wanted to buy.”

  Angelo thought about the name with disgust—Geraldo Bonadio. He could still remember a time when Bonadio had had a chance at making a name for himself. He had a respectable stature at almost six feet and light brown hair that he parted to the side and back. Angelo would have given him the benefit of the doubt, but one look into Bonadio’s cold brown eyes made Angelo wary from the start. He knew Bonadio could not be trusted.

  “Well, Bonadio has tried to buy many properties near Orlando. Your father got caught up with the wrong man.”

  “You think so? Would he kill?”

  Angelo raised his brow at the question. Her sudden interest made him curious. “Why would you ask a question like that?”

  Ella looked down and exhaled. “My mother was killed. They called it a suicide but my mother loved her life. She would have never done anything like that. I don’t care what anyone says. I will never believe what they said.”

  Angelo understood the entire picture now. Her father conducted business with the wrong man and had protected Ella ever since. She did not know the truth of the situation. How was her father going to tell her that his business associates killed her mother and were after her next?

  “Come here,” Angelo said and took her cup and his, setting them both on the table. Ella started to lean forward but hesitated. Angelo needed to convince her and grabbed her hand.

  “I’m a mess.” Ella’s fingers slid over the top of her hair and down the dusty dress until her hand rested in her lap. She let out a frustrated sigh.

  Angelo gazed at her with disbelief. The last two days would completely change her life yet she worried about her appearance in front of him. Ella did not know she was stunning no matter how she looked. If she would not come to him, he would have to go to her.

  He scooted over and strummed both hands along her arms and higher, until his fingers completely wrapped around her cheeks. Ella looked at him. Her blue eyes stared straight back at him and never looked away. She did not smile, yet her innocent expression invited more of his affection, just like in his car and his room at the club. He would not resist what he wanted any longer and touched her forehead with his.

  “You are perfect,” he whispered and firmly pressed his lips over her mouth, indulging her with the passionate warmth of his kiss.

  CHAPTER 20

  Ella rolled from the back cushions of the sofa and looked around the room. Where was Angelo? She could not have imagined he was there. The kiss of his soft lips still lingered on her mouth. If it was a dream, her subconscious played a cruel trick on her mind.

  “I just got here,” Brett said from the kitchen, making Ella jump.

  “Did Angelo leave?” she asked and peered around the room.

  When Brett nodded, her body fell back to the sofa, but the thud of the stiff cushions never came. A soft pillow cradled her head; somebody draped the blanket from her bed over her body. He was here; Ella thought and smelled an appealing aroma from the coffee table where a cup of coffee still had steam rising out of the top. Ella’s smile grew as she gazed at the cup. Angelo had paid attention when she showed him how to use the maker.

  What time was it? As Brett stepped outside the front door with his phone to his ear, Ella jolted straight up and grabbed her phone from beside the cup. It was fifteen minutes after seven. She was late. The employees would be waiting for her to open the doors to the restaurant. Wait—Santiago’s burned down.

  Ella sipped a small drink from the cup and reflected on the previous night. Now what was she supposed to do? The only reason she moved to Key Biscayne was for that restaurant. She felt like a piece of her heart died with the flames of the building. She did not know what direction to take next.

  She sighed and started to fall to the sofa again when a knock came at the door. Maybe Brett locked the door on his way out as a precaution. She stood up and smoothed down the legs of the cotton pants she wore. At least she looked better than she did the previous night. Now she was glad that Angelo had urged her to take a bath when she started to fall asleep. She took another drink of her coffee and stood. Having her breath smell like coffee should be better than the foul odor after sleeping.

  Ella unlocked the front door and stared at a blue-eyed man on the other side, and it was not Brett standing there. Her father used to send Simon to deliver messages to her when she attended school. After last night, Ella took a wary step back.

  “Good morning, Simon,” she greeted, though she was not up for a chat.

  “Good morning, Ella,” Simon said and walked straight past her and into her family room. The intrusion annoyed her. Her father had not spoken to her in months and suddenly wanted to interfere with her life.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked to interrupt his gaze as he searched around the room. What was he hoping to find?

  “You were not alone last night,” he said.

  “No, I wasn’t.” She knew where this was going thanks to her father’s rules. She did not care. Ella would make her own decisions from now on. Right now, she wanted Angelo.

  “So,” Ella tried to change the subject. “How is my father?”

  Simon completely ignored her question. “You are wearing his ring.” His voice sounded disgusted with the sight of the gold band around her finger. “Your father would not approve of Tomassi. He told you to stay away from him.”

  “Mr. Tomassi is my boss. He was here last night for business reasons.”

  Simon put his finger over his lips and held out his hand to Ella. She instantly closed her mouth, unsure of what he was doing when he walked to the counter between the kitchen and family room; then he smashed it with his fist. He did the same in two other spots. Did Angelo really place tiny cameras in her house? Maybe he was concerned after last night, but he could have let her know.

  “You should have never brought that man here, Ella. We told you to stay away from him and you not only didn’t listen, but you brought him to your house.”

  “My father doesn’t control my life anymore. You remember? He cut me off when I decided to move. He cannot expect me to do what he says when he doesn’t even talk to me. I have my own life now.”

  Simon was beginning to make Ella feel uneasy. His accusing tone put her on edge. She did not do anything that bad. What exactly concerned her father about Angelo that he would send her a message after all this time?

  “I cannot avoid seeing him when he is my boss.”

  “We saw you in the casino last night. I suppose that was business too?”

  Ella took a step back at the sarcasm in his words. He had no right to barge into her house and harass her like that. If Simon knew she was at the casino, he must have also known about the fire. “Did you know that the restaurant burned down last night?” she asked. His eyes immediately flickered up at the question. He knew.

  “I’m going to step in the other room for a minute,” he said without a reply.

  “Would you like some coffee while you are here?” she offered again and entered the kitchen. She might as well try to keep the peace.

  “No,” he said without hesitation and walked out of the room.

  Ella watched the door to her bedroom close as if this were his house. Who was he calling, and why did he become impersonal all of a sudden? He acted stoic in the past but never suspicious. The call lasted no more than a minute when he walked back out; his eyes looked at the floor. Simon c
ircled the sofa once and then sat down. Should she expect a lecture?

  “Does my father have something else for you to tell me?” she asked.

  “No,” said Simon. Their conversation was going nowhere.

  “Then why are you here?” Ella pushed one of her chairs underneath the table and stopped as Simon stood. His cold stare made the hairs on her arms stand with the chills that formed. Ella knew she was in trouble when he started walking toward her.

  “You lied.”

  “What?” Ella had no idea what he was talking about when he slapped the side of her face. She stumbled. Her hand reached for the edge of the table just in time before she fell. The side of her face burned as she looked up from underneath her hair with hurt and shock from the force of his hand. “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “You didn’t come home at all the night before, and you were seen leaving the club yesterday afternoon. Business doesn’t require your attention all night long. You were with Tomassi.”

  Ella started to back away at the dangerous tone in his voice. This was much different from Mr. Sullivan carrying her out of a club or restricting her to her room. He would have never hit her. No one ever had.

  “Your entire house is bugged. Do you honestly think you are fooling anyone by playing innocent? We know what you are up to.” He pointed at her and shoved her against the wall.

  The impact knocked the air from her lungs. Ella could not breathe for seconds; her hands immediately flung to her chest. Simon did not wait for her air to return. He opened up his palm again and backhanded her other cheek. There was nothing for her to grab this time. Ella fell against the corner of her wooden table and crumpled to the floor.

  “Let that be an example to you,” he said as Ella heaved air back into her lungs. “Do as your father says and stay away from Tomassi, or next time I will not be so nice. I hope you understand.”

  As Simon turned to leave, he looked back and grabbed her cup of coffee off the table; then he dumped the contents down his throat and let the door slam behind him. Ella moaned and crawled around the table to the counter. Why did the side of her body hurt so badly? She looked down at her cotton nightshirt and groaned again. Blood started to seep through. She must have hit the edge of the table hard.