“We’re not starting this again, okay? This is what I know! It’s all I know! This life is it, it’s all we’ve got.” He turns away. “Chella, if we wanna make fast cash, big money, this is the only thing I can do to help.”
“You can’t make money if you’re dead, Frankie!”
“I know, I know!”
“What the hell did you do?” I ask, my voice shaking.
Frankie puts his hands on my shoulders. “I can’t give you any details, except I did do something bad last night, but the good news is, nobody knows I was involved. The guys I was working with didn’t sell me out. That’s what they just told me. So we’re good. We don’t need to run.”
“Yet!” I say, throwing my hands into the air. “And what happens next time, when someone does sell you out or worse, you get caught? Huh? Then, what?”
“You’ve gotta take shit a day at a time. But today, don’t sweat it. We’re gonna get paid big, okay? I’m talking a huge chunk of cash that’ll take care of a shit ton of bills with enough left over for us to enjoy a little bit. To move outta this shit hole and into a better place.”
I shake my head. “Frankie, I can’t get caught up in another downward spiral, do you get that? You know what Papa’s conviction did to my career, my life. Both of our lives!” I spring up from the coffee table and start pacing around Frankie’s belongings. “Last night at work, Jimmy told me he couldn’t use me tonight for a huge party because I might bring bad press to the restaurant.”
Frankie scoffs. “That’s bullshit!”
I shrug. “Is it? I mean, Papa is a convicted murderer, a known mafia enforcer. Jimmy would get a lot of flack for employing me. On a normal night, it’s not a big deal, but there will be a lot of press at this event. They’d sniff me out like a piece of meat rotting in the kitchen. It would crush Jimmy’s business.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about working there tonight because it’s payday!”
I cover my face with my hands. “You don’t understand. What I’m saying is that my life is one step away from complete destruction if someone else in my family gets pegged by the media for some boneheaded scam to make a quick buck,” I say with a pointed look. “And just so we’re clear, that ‘someone else’ is you.”
Frankie claps a hand on my shoulder. “Chella, I know how hard you have been working. Can’t you just accept this and let out a sigh of relief that I finally came through for us?” He walks over to me and pulls me in for a hug.
“I’m still a little afraid to breathe,” I mutter, laying my head on his shoulder. “Are you going to tell me what happened last night? Don’t keep me in suspense, especially if we need to flee the city in the middle of the night.”
“I’d rather not,” Frankie mutters.
I pull away and clutch his arms, shaking him. “All of your earthly belongings are piled in the center of this room. You were ready to run somewhere, anywhere far away from the city out of fear that whoever you screwed over was going to come for you and do God only knows what. I think I have a right to know what we’re up against!”
“You’re not up against anything,” he growls. “This is all on me, Chella. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Do you really think that’s your choice?” I ask. “I mean, these guys go after everything and everyone, Frankie. After all of these years, haven’t you at least learned that?”
“Yeah, well, nothing is gonna happen to you. I made sure of that. And this afternoon, I’m gonna meet the guys I was working with and collect my cut. It’s gonna help us out. I wanna help us, Chell. It shouldn’t all be on you, especially since…” Frankie’s voice trails off before he finishes his thought.
“Since what?” I ask.
He shuffles over to his pile of clothes and grabs them off the floor. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. But we’re okay. I promise.”
“Okay, well, how about you promise that you won’t do anything risky or stupid again?” I grab an armful of his stuff and trudge back to his room with it. “Then we don’t have to worry about making a quick getaway.”
He smirks at me. “But I’m so good at this shit. How can I just walk away?”
“If they break both of your legs, you won’t have a choice.”
“I don’t plan on getting caught. The guys I’m working with know they can count on me.”
“Translation: they know you’ll do just about anything for a fast buck.” I graze his arm. “It’s too dangerous. Not worth it. We’ll figure this out. I’ll come up with a plan to make the money we need somehow.”
“How many more nights of waiting tables are you gonna have to suffer through to pay that money?” Frankie shakes his head. “I’ve proven myself. Let me pull my weight.”
“It’s a bad idea. And what if they’re going to pull one over on you? You said you’re going to collect your cut. What makes you think they’re going to give you a cent? How do you know they aren’t about to screw you?”
Frankie chuckles. “You really have no faith in me, do you? I’m fucking in, don’t you get it?”
“You shouldn’t go to your meeting spot alone,” I say. “I’ll come with you.”
He lets out a loud guffaw. “You’re insane. I’m not taking you with me!”
I don’t argue. I’m the last person who could help him in a shady situation and he knows it. I can’t even stand the sight of blood. I get queasy and lightheaded. And aside from the pepper spray, I’m probably the least street-smart person on the planet, other than when I use my resting bitch face on the subway.
It’s kind of ironic because I’ve grown up in a family firmly ingrained in the mafia. I was always kept away from the nitty gritty, though. Papa never saw me as a protégé. That was always Frankie’s role. I was the book smart one, the reader, the dreamer, the one who was going to do great things, the one who started to…well, that is until her plans came to a screeching halt.
Frankie always said Papa’s enemies would be back for us, something I probably should have prepared a little bit better for. I guess the past six months of nobody lashing out has given me a false sense of security. Either they can’t find us, or they just don’t want to bother looking now that my Papa is behind bars.
I really don’t know what I’d do if they came for me, if I could even get away. I’d try, sure. But that world is pretty foreign to me. I never wanted anything to do with it growing up, and after the fallout with the trial, I detest the idea of it. That lifestyle stripped me of my own success, everything I had planned for my future. And while I get that Frankie has never been the studious type, I really wish he’d found a different niche, one that didn’t involve drugs, guns, or a gaggle of thugs who can’t even pronounce two-syllable words.
Maybe this will be the wake-up call he needed. Take the money and run, Frankie!
Anything to get him away from the thug life! My God, I would have so many words for the leader of the fucking shithead pack he runs with!
“Can you take Chase or Johnny with you?” I ask. Those are two of Frankie’s friends, ones who didn’t desert him after Papa was convicted. Ones who’d always been there and refused to walk away from our family because of the bad press. I trust Frankie more when they’re with him.
“It’s not really a place for them, Chell,” he says, rubbing my arm. “I’ve gotta do this on my own. But it’ll be quick. I’m just going uptown, nowhere crazy. I’ll probably be home for dinner. We can order pizza, my treat,” he says with a wink.
My heart thumps hard and fast when he smiles. I want to believe him, but the overwhelming sense that something is about to go very wrong washes over me, consuming my whole being. Maybe I’m just being overly protective. Or maybe I’m right on target with these feelings. Nothing is ever quick—even death—with the mafia.
“Do you, ah, have a gun?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes. “Course I do.”
I nod. “Okay, well, don’t forget to bring it. Just in case.”
“I’m telling you, it’s going
to be fine. Besides, I wasn’t even the ringleader. Salvatore handled all of the heavy shit. And he’s the one who called me about coming to collect my cut. He’s the one they would have gone after, not me. But they obviously don’t know it was us who pulled the job.” He squeezes my shoulders. “What’d I tell ya? Good things are starting to happen, Chella. This is only the beginning.”
And that’s what I’m afraid of — and also that my and Frankie’s interpretations of ‘good things’ don’t exactly match up.
Chapter Five
Roman
My blood bubbles in my veins as I hear Salvatore on the phone with Frankie. That slimy little bastard. He’s been here for years, and I’ve only been in this position for months. He waited a damn long time to exact his revenge against my family.
But he doesn’t get the last word.
The Amantes are done screwing over the Villanis.
This is our town, and no punk-ass prick soldier is gonna take what we’ve built!
Maybe it’s payback for running them out of Sicily.
Maybe he needs the cash since his father keeps making bad choices that get him closer and closer to death.
Or maybe he’s just goddamn stupid.
“You did real good, Sal,” I say, circling the chair where he’s tied up. “That was very convincing.”
Sal nods quickly. “And he’ll be there, too. He needs that money. He’s in a pretty shitty place right now.”
I stop circling and drop to my knees, dragging my gun down the side of his bloody and bruised face. “Frankie and I were best friends back in Sicily. Our fathers were business partners a long time ago back in Sicily, at least until his father screwed mine out of a real estate deal. And then my father forced the Amantes out of the country. Did you know any of that?” I rise to my feet and sweep a hand through my hair. “So now Frankie sees his opportunity and decides to get his revenge, yeah? He figures he can come after what my family has built and take his share.” I hover close to Sal’s twitching face. “But he can’t. And he fucking won’t get away with it. He betrayed my family for the second time. You know how that feels?” I tap the gun on the side of his face again. “Like you’re getting ass-rammed. Dry. Nothing to prep the assault.”
“Roman, look, I know you’re angry, but—”
“But what, Sal?” I thunder. “You were pissed off, you had a beef with my family because we fired you, so you figured you’d come up with a plan to come back for what you thought was yours, yeah? That alone was stupid. Then you team up with Frankie Amante to help. You know how that makes me look, Sal?” I hiss into his ear, yanking it so hard, he lets out a piercing yelp. “Makes me look like I’ve got my head up my ass, that I didn’t see it coming. Not a good look for a boss, is it?”
“N-no,” Sal whimpers.
“But you made sure to wait until Matteo was outta the picture to enact your little plan, didn’t you? You figured you’d get away with our money if I was the one in charge, right? Lemme ask you something,” I say, shoving my face right into his and yelling at the top of my lungs, “Is this how you imagined things would turn out, you cocksucker? Huh? With you beaten within an inch of your pathetic life, tied to a chair, with a cinderblock chained around your ankles?”
Sal doesn’t answer. His chin quivers and his shoulders quake as the tears spill from his beady eyes.
I shake my head. “If you weren’t such a goddamn pervert, things mighta gone differently, you know? Like if you’d left your disgusting hands off Zoe instead of handing her off to your dipshit crew to send us a message, you might not be sitting here right now with your dick hanging out. But that’s why we fired you in the first place, isn’t it, Sal? Because you never could stick to the plan. You always had to put your own fucking spin on shit, and it bit us in the ass plenty.” I smirk. “Looks like old habits die hard, for you and your buddy, Frankie. That apple sure as hell doesn’t fall far from the tree in the Amante family!”
Sal sputters and wiggles in the chair, and I narrow my eyes at him. “You could’ve told him it was a setup. You know there’s no way out for you,” I say. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because why the fuck should he get away with all that money?” he sneers. “I did my part! I just got caught! I shouldn’t have to lose everything to him!”
“Another reason why you’d never make a good leader,” I muse. “Captain goes down with the sinking ship. You’ve heard that, yeah?” I furrow my brow. “But this…Captain sinking the fucking ship with everyone still on it…that’s a new one.”
“If I don’t make it out, nobody does!” Salvatore smirks. “You might wanna look up Frankie’s sister, too. You never know. We mighta pulled this job on you before and you didn’t even realize it. She might have some of the money we stole. Just sayin,” he says with an ominous chuckle.
My spine tenses.
Frankie’s sister.
The date I missed.
How the hell could I have gone back to the restaurant, knowing it was her brother who stole all of that blow? How could I look her in the eye, knowing I was hours away from skewering him?
I couldn’t face her.
I couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at her, if I’m being honest.
That Amante blood runs through her veins, too. And as hot as she is, I don’t need any more toxins seeping into my goddamn life.
“Selfish prick,” I mutter, rolling my eyes at Bobby and Ray who dragged Salvatore’s fat ass over here, same place where I popped Dario barely twelve hours ago. “Sellin’ out everyone and his fucking mother on his way out,” I grumble.
“What are you gonna do?” Ray asks in a hushed whisper.
“I’m gonna hold his hand and read him a story…just before I put a bullet between his beady-fucking-eyes. Cushion the blow a little.” I snort. “What the hell do you think? I mean, the guy’s already anchored, for Christ’s sake.”
Ray clears his throat and gives me a pointed look. “Boss, can I have a second?”
I walk away from the guys, leaving Bobby to handle Salvatore’s angry spewing. “What is it? We don’t have a lot of time for small talk,” I mutter, the reality of what Sal just said knotting my gut. What if he’s not bluffing? What if they really did pull shit like this before? I thought I’d only snoozed on five-hundred thousand, but maybe it’s more. Maybe it’s a lot fucking more!
“Are you sure this is the best way to handle this?” he asks. “All this blood. Have you spoken to Matteo? He wouldn’t—”
I narrow my eyes, hairs on the back of my neck prickling. “First, don’t ever fucking question me, you got that? Second, Matteo gave me orders to keep shit running smoothly while he’s gone. I don’t have to check in with him for every little dipshit thing. And third, I haven’t even been home yet. I’m tired, angry, and hungry. So don’t piss me off more with this crap, okay? If your conscience is a problem, take it with you and sit in the goddamn car while I handle things here.”
A look of shock flickers across Ray’s face.
Fuck.
I didn’t mean all of that.
Most of it, yeah.
But not all of it.
Ray’s on my side, and the last thing I want to do is alienate anyone. Especially now.
I let out a frustrated breath. “Listen, Ray—"
He holds up a hand. “No, boss. It’s fine. I shouldn’t have challenged you. Just tell me what you need.”
I lean my head back against the wall. “You’re right. It’s too much blood.” He doesn’t need to know why I’m so desperate to spill it, but I think enough has been done to prove that I can steer a tight ship.
Sal’s out.
There’s no way he survives. He’s an arrogant prick, a sellout, and a slimy, two-faced bastard who only pollutes the world we live in. He can taint even the most vile places…case in point, the Hudson River.
But Frankie…I could show him some mercy. He was my best friend at one point. Besides, there is a big problem that still needs to be addressed and he can help wi
th that.
I need legitimacy.
I’ve shown these guys that I can rule with an iron fist, but does that make me a good leader? Am I that much better than fucking Sal?
I need to show them that I can get what I want and not have to use brute force to grasp it.
So I won’t kill Frankie. Yet.
I’ll use him, instead.
He’s gonna find the guys who financed Sal and his crew to pull off this heist and he’s gonna get back everything he stole. They have our drugs, and my pride, in their fucking back pockets. I just need a plan to force Frankie into cooperating with me.
Or leverage.
“Sal has to be punished,” I grunt. “He can’t get away with this, especially after he was fired by Matteo. He can’t walk outta here. He needs to be carried out. In a fucking bag.”
Ray nods.
I stroke my chin. “But Frankie…I have a different plan for him. We need him to find out who orchestrated this whole thing. Let’s face it, Sal ain’t that smart. Someone else is behind it, and Frankie can find them.”
“How do you know he won’t cut and run?” Ray asks. “If he knows what you did to Sal and Dario, he won’t wait around for you to take a crack at him.”
I glance at Sal who is slumped over in the chair, bawling like a baby.
“Frankie’s sister,” I murmur. “She may be just the bargaining chip we need to win this whole game.”
Ray nods. “Great, how do we find her?”
“Sal will do just about anything right now to stay alive. I’m gonna make him a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“A deal where I dangle freedom in front of his ugly ass face in exchange for information…and cooperation,” I say, a plan hatching in my mind as I speak. A sinister smile plays at my lips.
Savage Beast: A Dark Mafia Enemies to Lovers Romance (Sinfully Savage) Page 6