Double Blind (Vittorio Crime Family #2)

by Vanessa Waltz

  “I’m Adriana.”

  “Carmine,” he says in a cheerful voice. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

  He takes my hand in his and shakes it firmly, never once breaking eye contact. My first impression of this man is that he’s polite, handsome, and quite charismatic. I can’t help but smile back.

  “How are you doing this evening?”

  “Pretty well. You?”

  “Oh, I’m excellent.” He beams at me.

  I get the feeling that he’s a happy-go-lucky guy. God, I already feel guilty.

  “Let me show you where you’ll be dealing.”

  He shows me to a deserted table and I automatically take my place behind it. Carmine sits across from me and gives me a sad little smile.

  He leans in secretively. “Listen, I know why you’re here. Tony told me everything.”

  I seriously doubt that.

  “You’re not here by choice, but that doesn’t mean that working for me has to be unbearable. I’m a pretty good boss to work for. I’m not gonna give you a hard time so long as you do your job. Okay?”

  My lips somehow pull into a smile as pressure builds in my head. He’s nice. My insides harden when I think of Vince and his mother. I’ll do anything to protect them. Even if it means I need to sacrifice someone else.

  How far I’ve fallen.

  “Sounds good, Carmine.”

  His fingers smooth over the felt. “You’ll be paid an hourly rate, plus any tips you get from customers. I take fifteen percent of your tips, and you’ll get overtime pay during holidays. The dealer always hits on a soft seventeen. Gives the house a slight advantage.”

  My eyebrows rise. Fifteen percent? That’s a lot better than I thought it would be. His tanned face breaks into another smile and I try to gauge him through his hooded eyes. Does he like me? I decide that I should take it slow. I’m in no hurry to ‘get close’ to this man who I feel nothing for, but I think he would find it suspicious if a recently engaged woman started hitting on him.

  “Well, I see customers coming in. Gotta go.”

  He gives me a roguish wink and gets up from his seat to greet the new guests. I plaster on a fake smile as they surround my table for Blackjack. Carmine stands nearby, his eagle-like eyes watching me out of the corner of my eye.

  I wonder if the men at my table are connected somehow, or if they’re just wealthy businessmen flying into New York who just want to blow off some steam. Two forty-ish men dressed in slacks join my table with a giant box of chips. Three other join, immediately engaging me in small talk.

  The cards fly out of my hands. I love the suspense—the energy. I can feel it building in my body, healing me. All of my worries fade away, and all I focus on are the tiny printed spades and hearts.

  It’s a casino, so there are several decks in the shoe. It’s much harder to count cards, but I do it anyway to amuse myself. The chips fly towards me, and I pocket any tips I receive. People at the table make small talk with each other, and their bets get a little more extravagant as cocktail waitresses bring them free drinks. I watch as Carmine walks around each table, making sure each guest is having a good time, handling any issues or complaints that come up. I’m trying to learn as much as I can about him.

  Then there’s movement at the door and I look up.

  Oh, shit.

  Vincent.

  My heart pounds hard against my ribs when I recognize him, a mixture of relief and fear overwhelming me. It’s only been one day, but I already miss him. I wonder how he’s doing.

  He’s standing there, as bold as brass, looking at me like he’d quite like to strangle me or bend me over the poker table to fuck me. Who knows.

  The last thing I need is Vincent causing a scene at my new job, but his head finally turns away from me towards Carmine, who heads him off.

  Fuck.

  They talk to one another in hushed tones. I can’t conceal how awkward this is, and I’m completely distracted by his presence. So much so that one of the players snaps at me.

  “Come on, we’re waiting here.”

  I smile painfully and return to the game. My eyes still flick towards them, and I think I see Vince’s eyes glancing back towards me just as frequently. Suddenly, a cocktail waitress slides up next to him. She’s dressed in a skimpy outfit and her hand rubs the back of his neck.

  When he gives her a polite smile, I feel my world crashing. My guts are ripped out of my body.

  He’s mine. Get your filthy hands off him.

  He’s not anymore.

  Suddenly, that realization hits me hard. I feel sick. The weak walls I built up for this collapse, and an overwhelming wave of sadness crashes over me. I can’t take it. All the stress burns in my chest like a cancer. And then a sob shakes from my throat and I’m crying in front of my bewildered customers.

  Jesus. It’s a nightmare, but I can’t stop.

  Carmine notices me before Vince does, and then he turns away from the waitress to see me and his face falls. He looks like I’ve just kicked him in the stomach.

  Carmine is there in seconds, beside me. “What’s the matter, hon?”

  This couldn’t be going any worse. I wipe my eyes furiously, looking away from Vince. “Nothing—nothing—”

  He looks from me to Vince and seems to understand with a single glance. “Go take a break.”

  “What? But I’ve just started!”

  His hand falls on my shoulder and squeezes. His blue eyes wrinkle with sympathy. “Adriana, you can’t work like this. Go on in the employee’s room. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Thanks.”

  I get up as Carmine gives me a grim nod and I practically run towards the break room. The noise of the casino drops away when the door shuts. Inside, there are lockers and a single table. I sit down and cross my legs, shivering in the cold.

  I have to pull it together and act like it doesn’t bother me. He might even start seeing other women, who knows?

  Just the thought of it makes me sick.

  The scrape of the door makes me jump in my seat, and Carmine walks through, looking grim.

  I sit up straight. “Carmine, I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again, I was just a bit upset.”

  He straightens his suit and takes a seat next to me. “Stop apologizing. Vince told me you guys broke up. I’m sorry, I didn’t know or I wouldn’t have had him meet me here.”

  A frown spreads over his face as if he thinks it’s his fault.

  “He wasn’t there for me?” I ask in a small voice.

  “No, he was just here on business.”

  “Oh,” I say, a little crestfallen. So he’s already moved on.

  He gives me another sad smile and touches my shoulder while he takes a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and offers it to me.

  I’m really struck by his kindness. I take it from him and stammer thanks as I dab my eyes.

  “I know how you feel. Break-ups are always hard. I can’t imagine breaking up with someone I was engaged with.”

  “It’s really hard.”

  More than you know.

  “When I was young, I was crazy about this one girl. No matter what I did, she didn’t feel the same for me. I mean, I tried everything, but she could care less. It took me years to get over her. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m really over her.”

  A muscle jumps in his jaw as he tells me this, and there’s a faraway look in his eyes. Like he still thinks of her and misses her. It pulls at my heartstrings.

  It’s strange to hear a stranger talk so openly, but there’s something refreshing about that.

  “I thought I loved Vince,” I tell him, folding his handkerchief over and over. “I left him only a couple days ago. It’s still hard to see him, even if I’m better off without him.”

  Carmine makes an assenting noise in his throat. “Yeah, he strikes me as a bit of a hothead. He told me to go fuck myself when I said that he shouldn’t come around here anymore.”

  Horrorstruck, I look at him above my ha
nds, but he merely looks amused. “I—I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t apologize for him, sweetie.” He pats my hand in a conciliatory gesture and gets up.

  “Carmine—the girl who you fell in love with—do you still think of her?”

  He traces his finger over the table before he looks back at me. “All the damn time.”

  VINCENT

  Glittering cocktail waitresses strut by on stilettos, and aside from the music booming from the interior of the casino, it’s not very noisy. The sound of chips shoved together and murmured voices raised and lowered in victory and defeat fill the small room. It’s a big space, but my eyes scan over the heads immediately to look for her. The VIP room of Worlds Casino is a mixed bag of gangsters and wealthy men. I stand in the midst of twelve or so poker tables. Most of them have men as dealers behind the tables, wearing suits, except for one.

  A stunning woman sits behind a table of admiring men. Adriana wears the dark blue dress that I bought her. It’s one of my favorites. It has a diving neckline, which gives a nice view of her cleavage. Her long hair is tied up in a knot with a few dark tendrils curling over her creamy breasts. The dark lipstick makes her look like a cruel, Italian goddess. She smiles at something one of the players says and then she looks up and sees me. She freezes with her mouth slightly parted in shock.

  We’re not fucking done, sweetheart. Not by a long shot.

  She blind-sighted me at the restaurant. I didn’t get a chance to react to what she said. I’ve had a night to think about it, and I’ve decided that it’s all bullshit. She didn’t enjoy being with me? What about the time when I made her moan so loudly that the neighbor pounded on her bedroom wall? It wasn’t real, my ass.

  We’re done when I say we’re fucking done.

  I take a step forward, not sure whether I’ll kiss her or yell at her, but a man stops my path. Carmine, dressed in one of his preppy suits, blocks my way.

  “Vince, good to see you.”

  I tear my eyes away from her to look into his shit-brown eyes. “I can’t say the same.”

  He laughs. “You are as charming as ever.” He holds out his hand expectantly.

  Reaching into my jacket, I pull out the envelope stuffed with cash.

  He takes it and thumbs through the contents.

  Like I’d try to stiff him. Asshole.

  “I heard you and Adriana were on the outs. Don’t think about talking to her right now. I don’t want any drama at my VIP games.”

  Like you can fucking stop me. “It’s none of your fucking business.”

  Suddenly, I feel someone touching the back of my neck and a female body pressing into my side. I turn into her arm, convinced it’s Adriana. She’s come back to her senses, finally. But no, it’s the fucking cocktail waitress. A flood of disappointment sends me crashing. I give her a strained smile and I step away.

  A woman’s muffled cry makes my head turn. Adriana’s bends over the table with her head in her hands as her shoulders shake. The players look at each other uncomfortably as their dealer cries. They try to give her napkins, which she ignores.

  What the fuck?

  I don’t understand what just happened. Did one of the players say something?

  Or is it because of me?

  Some sick part of me can’t help but feel a little relieved that she might still care, but I feel it at the same time as the knife twists in my abdomen. I want to destroy whoever hurt her.

  Carmine walks over there and touches her shoulder, his hands all over her as he whispers something in her ear.

  Fuck you.

  She gets up and disappears behind the Employees Only door. Carmine sits down at the table with a genial smile and quickly deals out cards.

  “Sorry, folks. She just broke up with her fiancé, so she’s a little upset.”

  “She’s single?” One of the guys leans in with a wide smile, joking.

  Flames of heat shoot up my chest.

  No, she fucking isn’t.

  Carmine laughs. “Yeah, I guess so.” He clears his throat. “All right, guys. Here’s the river.”

  After he finishes the game, he returns to my side. He has the balls to look pissed.

  “Listen, Cesare, I think it’s best if we do our business somewhere else from now on. I can’t have you upsetting my dealer.”

  I bristle. “Oh, she’s your dealer now, is she?”

  He grins at my anger. “Yeah, she is. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Tony. From the look on her face, she doesn’t want you around, anyway.”

  That strikes a nerve. I’m so close to smashing his face in. I can visualize my fist cracking over his skull, and kicking in his ribs when he’s on the ground.

  “The only way we’ll have a problem is if you touch her again.”

  His smile doesn’t falter. “You can fuck off with your attitude. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with her. She’s not your fiancée, your comare, or anything. You have no authority over me, so you can shove your alpha-male posturing bullshit right up your ass.”

  I’ll fucking kill you.

  I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to piss me off, and he’s not even being subtle about it. Any decent wiseguy knows to stay the fuck away from another guy’s ex, except this asshole. I give him one last smile to let him know that I’m on to him, and then I turn my back on him.

  I don’t know why the fuck he’s trying to rile me up, but I won’t let him get to me. I won’t.

  I slam my fist into the double doors, making them fly open as I leave the VIP room.

  * * *

  The grimy windows block out most of the sun in the dimly lit deli. We’re holed up in the back, me and the guys. I’m trying to go through my books, looking down the list of names on the sheet of paper, which rests on the long, wooden table with a pastrami sandwich sitting on a plate next to me. Even though I only had a cup of coffee for breakfast, I have no taste for food.

  I came home this morning to see that Adriana cleared everything of hers out of the apartment.

  What the fuck happened to us?

  If I wasn’t tied up with work, I’d march over there and I’d drag her back to my place because none of this makes sense. She can’t just leave me on a whim, especially when I’m the only man standing between her and Jack’s wrath.

  The guys shoot pool behind me, talking in low, hushed voices as if I’m on my deathbed. It makes me want to strangle someone. Nicky and Frank, two of my soldiers, keep shooting me sympathetic looks as I sit there. I don’t know how it got out, but everyone already knows that Adriana moved out. This fucking place is worse than a sewing circle. Fucking gossips.

  “Vinny, There are plenty of other broads out there.”

  None like her. No other woman has ever made me so fucking crazy. I look at the other guys’ wives and I don’t see what I’m missing. I never wanted a wife like that—I knew that I would cheat, but I never looked at any other women when we were together. Why would I?

  “Fuck!” I shove the plate away and stand up.

  The short man shrugs, still holding onto his pool cue. “I don’t understand it. She always looked happy when she was around you, especially after all that stuff with her mother.”

  I narrow my eyes at Nicky, warning him to shut up. We can’t discuss that in front of anyone, especially when there might be a rat in my crew. Fuck, I completely forgot about it.

  “Yeah, I don’t get it.”

  One of the younger guys pushes himself off the wall. “Forget her, Vince. She’s a cunt.”

  I look at him, feeling a hot surge of anger in my chest. “What the fuck did you say?”

  He shrugs unconcernedly, not quite noticing the rancor in my voice. “She’s a cunt.”

  He tries to raise his hands, his eyes round when I vault over the table. The guys scream at me.

  “Vince, don’t!”

  In a few seconds, I wrap my hands around the prick’s throat. He screams as I slam his head against the wall, choking off his yells.

/>   “Stop! What the hell’s the matter with you?”

  A hand clenches my shoulder, but I elbow it away. “Fuck off!”

  “Vince, c’mon. That’s enough!”

  The others hang around me, shouting in my ears as a faint white noise buzzes in my ear. The boy swings at me, and I let go of his neck long enough to bury my fist into his stomach. He doubles over, crying out in pain. Angry red marks wrap around his neck and a cold feeling slips down my stomach. My anger dissolves like dry ice.

  What’s wrong with me?

  “Vince, what the fuck?”

  “Jesus.”

  The guys grab my arms before I can do more damage. He writhes on the tiled floor and cries like a little bitch as I stand above him.

  Frank gives me a wide-eyed look that makes me feel like a psycho.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  “Jesus Christ, Vince.”

  I turn away from the crumpled boy, raising a shaky hand to my face. “Take him to the fucking hospital.” I reach into my pocket and grab a fistful of cash, cramming it into Nicky’s hand.

  Then I walk outside to breathe.

  I’m really losing it because of some broad. I feel out of control. Angry. Lost.

  I need to focus on what’s important—the informant in my crew. I need to follow each of them. Jack still has no idea that the Feds talked to Adriana, and if Tony finds out, she’ll be dead for sure. She might want me out of her life, but she has no idea how much she needs me right now.

  * * *

  My car weaves in and out of traffic as I follow Paulie around New York. Tailing someone in this city isn’t easy, but it has to be done.

  Someone’s been talking, and I need to find out who it is. After which, I’ll get permission from Jack to whack the son of a bitch.

  Out of all of them, I suspect Paulie the least. The man is such a hardass for the rules. That’s why he was made captain. There are dozens of possibilities. The rat might not even be in my crew, he could be in the other captains’ crews. I have my work cut out for me, and not being able to talk about it with the others makes this even harder.

  I pull up a block behind Paulie as he visits the laundromat. The laundromat, for God’s sake. He doesn’t even trust his comare to pick up his laundry, that’s how far his stick is up his ass.