by Ginger Ring
Madison’s Mobster
Ginger Ring
Madison’s Mobster
Copyright © 2015 by Ginger Ring.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: December 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-915-3
ISBN-10: 1-68058-915-6
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Madison
The decadent piece of chocolate layer cake taunted her. Each morning it was the same thing. A mocha latte with a shot of espresso at the Genoa Java Shop and then several minutes staring at their delightful desserts like there was no tomorrow. Chocolate had always been her downfall. Madison Miller lost all concentration when there was dessert involved.
“Are you going to get anything?” Stephanie, her friend and fellow employee, inched her nose closer to the display case.
“Grrr. I want one, but cake isn’t exactly a breakfast food.” Then she recalled that familiar saying. It’s five o’clock somewhere—or did that only apply to drinks?
The coffee cup warmed her hands and the strong aroma woke her senses, but she could swear the sweet smell of cocoa permeated the glass.
“Can I get you anything?” The kind server behind the counter wasn’t making it any easier.
Taking one last look at the sinful sensation, she groaned. “I’d better pass. I’d feel guilty later.”
“Sometimes doing what you want is worth the guilt.” The deep voice startled her and Madison spun around with a shriek. The hot coffee in her cup flew out and all over the man’s nice shirt and suit. Damn that chocolate cake for distracting her from putting the lid on.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry.” Horrified, she scrambled for napkins and started to dab at his chest. “Let me try to clean this up.” Out of nowhere, a man the size of a Green Bay Packer lineman approached.
“It’s all right, Arlo.” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Nicely Dressed spoke to the big bear of a man and he stood to the side.
What was that all about? Madison glared at the one who threatened to manhandle her before turning her attention back to the victim of her coffee explosion. “Again, I am so, so sorry. Please let me pay for cleaning your suit.” It was on the tip of her tongue to offer to pay for the damages, but if there was something she knew about, it was clothes. Her monthly income wouldn’t put a dent in the cost of his designer suit and silk shirt. Paying for the cleaning alone would put a damper on her daily espresso addiction.
“No damage done.” He unbuttoned his coat. “I’m afraid I damaged the shirt last night, so I’m throwing it out anyway.”
“Long night?” she wondered out loud.
“Something like that.” His gaze slowly wandered from her head to her toes. It was hard to tell if he was checking her out or simply bored. The man did look tired. Deep circles shadowed his dark eyes.
“Please, let me at least buy you a coffee or something.” Normally she’d never offer to buy some man off the street a drink but it was the least she could do. If truth be told, the man was drop dead gorgeous. Well, in an exotic kind of way.
What wouldn’t she give for his long eyelashes? A quick survey of his face revealed deep brown eyes, a straight nose, and strong jaw. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. The man had awesome lips. They were full, firm, and so kissable. A soft whimper escaped her lips.
Stephanie cleared her throat and nudged her in the arm. One minute Madison’s drooling over the cake and the next it’s some stranger in a suit. Was she that obvious? Luckily, the guy didn’t seem to notice.
“What I’d like is for you to let me buy you that dessert you were studying so hard.” Was he flirting with her? Madison took a sip of her drink and noticed the brute by his side giving her the evil eye.
“We need to get going. The men are waiting for us.” He spoke under his breath but she heard what he said.
The attractive man in the suit acknowledged his sidekick but never took his gaze off her.
“That’s okay. We have to get going,” Stephanie butted in.
“Are you sure?” His left eyebrow lifted.
Stephanie began to drag her to the door. “Yes, thank you.”
The man nodded and stepped to the counter. Why didn’t Madison have the guts to ask him his name? Was he new in town? A tourist?
They were halfway down the block before Stephanie finally let go of her arm.
“What’s wrong? That guy was hot.” Madison stopped and turned around. “Do you think I should go back? Maybe see if he’s going to the ball this weekend?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Her lip jutted out. He was the first nice guy who’d sparked a bit of interest in her in ages. Stephanie should be encouraging her, not dragging her away.
“We have to open the shop.” Stephanie stood firm.
“Okay, now I know something is up. You’re never eager to get to work.” She spoke in jest, but there was a ring of truth to it.
“Let’s get inside and then we’ll talk,” Stephanie muttered and grabbed a paper from the newsstand.
It only took a few minutes to open Bells and Bows Wedding Shop but Stephanie still hadn’t said a word. She seemed more interested in what was on the front of the Genoa Globe than explaining why Madison shouldn’t have given the coffee cutie her phone number.
“You’re killing me here.” Madison frowned and placed her hand on her hips. “What was up with you back there?”
“He’s not right for you.” Stephanie shrugged her shoulders and concentrated on the news.
Madison tilted her head. This wasn’t like her at all. If Steph didn’t like something or someone, she never hid her reasoning. “Why do you say that?” Again, there was silence. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Stephanie stood up and turned the paper to face her. “This.” Her pink tipped finger pointed to the lead article on the front page. “Local girl missing.”
Roman
Roman Caponelli tossed the newspaper to the side and cursed a string of four letter words. That’s the last thing he needed. Yesterday, Mario Giuseppe had pleaded for his help to find his daughter, Andrea. It would have been nice to find her before her disappearance went public. As soon as he’d seen the engagement announcement in the papers months ago he knew this wouldn’t end well.
The girl’s fiancé, Diego Rinaldi, was a loose cannon. The bastard was into all kinds of bad stuff, including drugs and possibly sex trafficking. From what he’d heard the man never followed orders and killed for the fun of it. The devil’s spawn probably tortured animals as a kid. If Diego was part of his family, he would’ve killed him a long time ago, but he wasn’t. No, the bastard was the rogue member of another mafia family he had to work with on a daily basis. The Rinaldi family had been one of their closest allies for many years.
“Romeo?” The husky voice of a woman echoed through the halls. “Romeo?”
With a shove, he pushed his desk chair back and stood. There was so much to do before this weekend’s event, the Snowflake Ball, and everything had to be perfect. As if he didn’t
have enough businesses to run, his sister talked him into buying her an event center in Lake Genoa, Wisconsin.
What the hell, it wasn’t her fault. He’d jumped at the chance to get out of the city. Maybe find a nice woman from a small town, one whose eyes lit up when he walked in the room. One who was interested in him for who he was as a man…not for what he was.
As if on cue, in walked one of the most beautiful women he knew. “There you are. Do you know how long I have been looking for you?” And she was one of the bossiest.
“I was in my office the whole time.”
She picked up his Armani suit coat that lay on the floor and folded it over a chair.
“That’s no excuse.” Her lips pouted and she leaned on one hip.
“What’s got you so upset? You look like you swallowed an olive pit.”
She tsked and let loose a string of Italian that would make a sailor cringe. “Never mind what I do or don’t swallow.”
Romeo cringed. Call him old-fashioned, but if there had been a convent to send his sister to, he’d do it in a heartbeat. It was either that or personally kill every man she went out with. “Valentina, what is it?” He stepped closer, placed both her hands in his, and stared into her tearful eyes.
“We have the ball in less than forty-eight hours,” she sputtered.
He raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”
“There is so much to do and Andrea is missing.” Tears burst from her eyes and Romeo hugged his sister close. It wasn’t the ball that had her upset, it was Andrea. They were childhood friends, and her disappearing without a trace left them all worried. What if it had been Valentina who’d vanished? He’d torture any man to within an inch of their lives to find her.
His shirt still bore specks of blood from a friend of Diego’s they’d met up with last night. The guy had no clue where he or Andrea had gone.
Andrea could be at the bottom of a lake somewhere. But if there was even a chance she could be found, he’d make it happen. In a matter of minutes after Mario left, he’d had every man available looking for their friend.
According to Andrea’s father, Diego had been abusive to her. Something none of them had been aware of until the bridal shop owner where Andrea had gotten her dress convinced her to call it off. If he was a gambling man, it was a good bet the shop owner was next on Diego’s list. The guy was a psycho. Romeo made a mental note to find out who that woman was and send a guy over to keep an eye on her place. Diego enjoyed blowing shit up, so a bomb was not out of the question either.
Releasing Valentina from his arms, he placed his palm on her cheek. “You have my word. If she’s alive, I will find her. Either way, Diego is dead. That’s a promise.”
She shook off his hands and marched to stare out the window. “You should let me go after him.”
“You know I can’t do that.” His jaw tightened and he placed both hands on the desk.
“Why not? She’s my friend.” Her voice cracked.
“You are needed here.” Despite being a bombshell, Valentina was a tomboy. He grinned. She wanted to be a made man in the worst way and there was no way in hell that would ever happen. His sister had a tough exterior but her heart was as big as Lake Michigan. “I need you by my side Valentina. Now keep your chin up and go make sure all the deliveries have been made.”
Exhaling loudly, Valentina revolved around and stomped toward the door. “Yes, sir,” droned from her mouth. She always called him sir when she was pissed.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Valentina stopped and set her hand on the doorknob.
“Did you make sure the owner of Bells and Bows received a special invitation to the party?” Roman turned and leaned against the desk.
“I made sure of it myself.” Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms behind her back. “So, are you planning your wedding?”
“Hell no.” He said a little too quickly and a little too loud. Valentina remained where she was. “No, hers was on the list of local businesses that I wanted to attend, but now I want to talk to the woman. See if she has any clues on Andrea.”
“Is that all?” She grilled, and amusement sparkled in her eyes. “You know Father wants you to find a bride soon.”
“Of course that’s all. What else would I have in common with a woman my mother’s age who sells wedding dresses?” He’d done his research, and the store was owned by a woman in her sixties.
“Oh, Romeo, sometimes you don’t know as much as you think you do.” For the first time today, she had a real smile on her face. He didn’t care why, but he figured he’d find out soon enough.
Madison
The next morning, Madison sat in the Genoa Java Shop, scouring the paper for the latest news on Andrea. So far there was nothing new. It’s all she could think about since she’d heard the news.
She shuddered as visons of that unlucky bride popped in her head. Andrea seemed like every other bride who’d walked through the front door of Bells and Bows. As the weeks and months went by things began to change and so did the bride. During her last fitting a short time ago, it finally dawned on her what was wrong. Makeup had managed to cover some of the bruises on her face but nothing could hide the marks on her body where she’d been hit. After many tears, hugs, and pleas to get help, Andrea had finally agreed to call off the wedding to her abuser and go to the police.
Madison stayed with the battered bride-to-be the whole time, and after that traumatic day was done, dropped her off at her parents’ house. Andrea had been hiding it from everyone. Her father had not been pleased about his daughter marrying into that family, but once he found out what had happened, the fiancé was not to show his face around his girl again or risk a shotgun.
It seemed like forever since she’d taken over her mother’s bridal store, Bells and Bows. As a youngster she could bustle a cathedral length train before she learned how to drive. Somewhere along the way, something changed. Maybe it wasn’t becoming bored. Maybe it was the frustration of planning everyone else’s wedding and not her own. Madison had become ‘new best friend,’ ‘substitute sister,’ or ‘fairy godmother’ to everyone who needed one. Maybe it was her disappointment in watching people screw up their lives with the wrong person and not being able to do anything about it.
They all walked in dancing on clouds, but then a year later, the bride or groom would be back with a new person to walk down the aisle with. Was nothing sacred anymore? Marriage should be forever, not a reason to put on a pretty dress and have a party. A sigh escaped her lips and she took another bite of the moist cake. Yes, she’d gotten the cake.
Her thoughts turned to the man she’d met yesterday. Steph never did explain her reason for not liking him. Hell, Steph could get any man she wanted with a smile and a wink. Her friend’s golden blonde hair somehow always seemed to look unkempt and gorgeous at the same time while Madison’s was thick, brown, and hard to control.
Enjoying another taste of her cake, she tried to chase the melancholy away. At least she had the ball tomorrow night to look forward to.
The snowflake ball was usually held in the banquet room of a local hotel but this year it would be at Firenza’s. She’d been dying to see the place. It took all she had not to hug the attractive young woman who’d personally dropped off an invitation to the shop on Monday. Apparently they wanted to make sure other local business owners would be in attendance.
Firenza’s was a new conference center out on the lake. The place was a historic mansion, a former mob hangout, typical of most places in her small hometown. Due to its close proximity to Chicago, Lake Genoa was also home to the rich and wealthy no matter how they earned their cash. This beautiful estate had been completely refurbished to hold events of all kinds. It’d been on her to-do list to contact the owner about cross promoting but she hadn’t had the chance. Finally a smile began to form as she pictured the gown she’d be wearing in her mind. It was one of her creations. Designing dresses was a passion, and some day a line of dresses with her name
on them would be a dream come true.
Inhaling the sweet yet bitter fragrance of her mocha latte, she closed her eyes and savored the richness of her chocolate layer cake. The man had been right. It was worth the guilt.
The food was divine, the décor amazing, and the staff had been more than accommodating. So far, Madison loved every minute of the snowflake ball. In the summertime, visitors would’ve been able to stop by on their boats. A long dock was available on the lake for that purpose.
What an amazing night it had been. The only thing that would have made it better was someone to share it with. Her heart still ached after witnessing the older couple holding hands across the table from her. They were obviously reminiscing about old times and sneaked kisses when they thought no one was looking. If only she’d be that lucky someday.
She retouched her lipstick in the mirror and left the ladies’ room. Music echoed from the ballroom. With a smile on her face, Madison hurried to the sound. Surveying the ballroom, only one man stood out. His face was in the shadows but she recognized him. It was the man from the coffee shop. Heck, she’d even hung around there yesterday hoping he might show up.
For some reason, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. There was something special about him, which drew her to find out more. He was tall, broad shouldered, with a slender waist, and the designer suit he wore fit to perfection. He watched her equally as closely. Even from across the room, his gaze sent a shiver down her spine.
“Would you care for a dance?” the voice behind her asked. She twirled around to find an older man waiting patiently for her response.
“Sure, I’d love to.” She graced the elderly gentlemen with a smile and joined him in a waltz. As he spun her around the dance floor, Madison searched for the mysterious man, but he was gone.
Before long, it neared midnight and her feet screamed to get off the dance floor. After the kindly older man, she was soon in the arms of a few of the chamber of commerce members, the high school’s head librarian, and a young college kid. The dances were fun and energetic but there was no spark, no fire. No one even close to her age. Had all the thirty-something, interesting men already married? She was too old to pout, but right now, Madison rested her fist on her chin and let her lower lip jut out.