Men of Honor: Cosa Nostra book 1

by Jasmine Denton

  “Time and place, Nik. Time and place.” Trey turned in his chair to look out at the city view. Resting his hands behind his head, he smiled with the thought that one day every bit of that view would belong to him.

  That afternoon, Trey and Johnny met up with a few of his other men at the docks. The site was clear of people as far as the eye could see, except for guards placed strategically around the perimeter. Trey joined Nikolas and watched as crates were loaded from the ship into a couple semi-trucks. There must’ve been a hundred of them.

  “What’s in the crates?” Trey asked, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.

  “You don’t want to know,” Nik replied with a grin. “People bring in the big bucks.”

  “Sick bastards.”

  “We’re all a little sick.” He gave a smug laugh and slapped Trey on the back. “Tell me you don’t have some kinky little secret. Your habit of nailing hookers comes to mind.”

  “Strippers, Nik,” he said. “I don’t pay.”

  “If that’s your story,” he said with a chuckle.

  Ignoring Nik’s statement, Trey stepped up to a truck and pulled the back closed after the last crate was loaded inside. Then, the truck sped off, tearing through the area, kicking up dust and gravel. A few guards turned, bearing weapons and shooting at the truck’s tires.

  Trey pulled his gun and started running after the truck. “It’s the damn Marcanos. Gotta be!”

  “Just catch it!” Nikolas shouted, running after them.

  Cars pulled into the truck’s path, but it smashed right through them. The sounds of screeching tires, twisting metal and gunfire echoed in the shipyard. The loading site had turned into a chaotic mess. Trey stopped and took aim, firing his gun. He hit one of the back tires, blowing it out. Just as he aimed for the other tire, a stray bullet pierced his arm. Pain ricocheted through his shoulder, momentarily taking him down.

  Ducking behind a parked car, he paused to check out the damage. It wasn’t bleeding too badly and he decided he could still fight. Jumping up, he ran after the truck, gaining on the driver’s door when...

  A motorcycle jumped over a wrecked car, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

  The motorcycle startled the truck driver, causing him to swerve and fishtail. Zooming through the scene, the helmeted driver sped up to the semi-truck. The mystery man pulled out a small handgun and fired without hesitation, without taking any time to aim.

  As Trey approached, he saw the truck driver slump over, sounding off the horn. The steering started to go crazy, looking like the truck could flip. The other driver leapt from his motorcycle and caught himself on the truck’s door handle. Positioning himself quickly, he opened the door to the semi-truck and launched himself inside, shoving the dead body over, then safely pulled the truck to a stop.

  Trey shouted to his crew, “Check the crates,” as he ran over to the driver’s side door. He arrived at the open door seconds later, still bleeding from his arm. The motorcyclist hopped down from the truck and turned to face Trey.

  With his gun still poised to fire, Trey demanded, “Who the hell are you?”

  The man took off the black helmet to reveal a face Trey would know anywhere. His father had always taught him to know his competition, and he knew every Marcano by name. This one wore a charming, proud-of-himself grin as he stretched out his hand. “The name’s Vincent,” he said. “And before you shoot, hear me out.”

  Chapter Three

  Moments after Vincent helped stop the shipment from going south, Trey had the unwanted hero forced to his knees, with a gunman on each side. Two guns aimed at his head and Vincent didn’t even blink. His hands weren’t shaking either, and Trey didn’t like that.

  Trey took a second to tear off a piece of his t-shirt and wrap it around his still bleeding arm before he began interrogating the intruder.

  “Are these weapons really necessary?” Vincent asked. “I just saved your ass.”

  “Looks like it,” Trey said. “But then I wonder…how did you know my ass would need saving?”

  “Honestly?” he asked. “I’ve been following you. Waiting for the right time to introduce myself.”

  Trey felt his gun hand twitch on principal. A Marcano on his turf—admitting to following him To say he was outraged would be an understatement.

  “I want to work for you,” Vincent said.

  “Not interested,” Trey replied.

  “Maybe you don’t know much about me, but I’m different than the rest of my family,” he began.

  “I know plenty,” Trey said, cutting him off. “Vincent Gianni Marcano. Born December 8th, 1977. Graduated from high school with honors. Got a free ride to Princeton and heir to the Marcano dynasty. But you threw it all away when you betrayed your family, ran off and disappeared five years ago.”

  Vincent shifted a little under Trey’s gaze, but kept face.

  “I know my enemy,” Trey said.

  “Then you know my family disowned me.”

  “And I know they had good reason.”

  “But not all of them,” Vincent said. “Some of them still talk. A lot. I can get you inside information. I can help you take their turf.”

  “I don’t need your help,” Trey said. He started to walk away.

  Vincent stood, ignoring the guns in his face. “I get it. You hate my family and anyone with the Marcano name. The thing is so do I.”

  “You want to get back at your family so you storm in here and stop their heist and offer me your services, is that it? You really thought playing showoff was a good idea?”

  “I needed to make an impression,” Vincent replied.

  Trey aimed his gun at Vincent’s head. “Yeah? Now it’s time for me to make one.”

  “Trey,” Nikolas said, breaking Trey’s concentration. When he looked over, Nikolas nodded for him to step aside.

  “What?” Trey grumbled, not happy with the way Nik had interrupted him in front of everybody.

  “We should let the boss decide,” he said.

  “You’re not considering letting him in…”

  “Either way he’s leverage. It’d be stupid to just let him go.”

  “Who said anything about letting him go? He flipped on his own family. He’ll turn on us. I say we shoot him now.”

  “And I say…” His voice took on an authoritative tone. “Let the boss decide.”

  Nikolas stepped around Trey and walked over to Vincent. “Come with us and you can meet the boss later. We’ll let him figure out what to do with you.”

  Vincent nodded, accepting the offer. As he did, a small, pleased grin tugged at his lips.

  Mandi was still half-asleep when she heard someone knocking on her door. Stumbling across her small apartment, she looked out the peephole to make sure it wasn’t her landlord. She didn’t have this month’s rent yet and was dodging him as much as she could. It surprised her to see a man in a dark suit, holding a large, flat box. She cautiously opened the door.

  “Mr. DeLuca sent this for you,” the man said, holding out the box.

  Mandi stared at it for a minute, trying to remember who Mr. DeLuca was. The man handed her the box and left.

  When she opened it, she gasped. It seemed silly, but the dress was so gorgeous that it literally took her breath away. Gently, being careful not to taint the beautifully designed red dress, she pulled it from the box to give it a good look. It was mermaid-style, one-shoulder and had a sheer sleeve that looped around her wrist. There was a cute pair of red stilettos to match. Underneath the dress, she found a card.

  Mandi,

  Call me if you like the dress.

  Trey

  After taking another minute or two to fawn over the gown, she picked up her cell phone and dialed the number written on the bottom of the card. Trey answered on the second ring.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, a little perplexed to be sent such an expensive dress.

  “Mandi?” he asked, sounding charming as usual. “I was hoping I’d hear fro
m you.”

  “I can’t accept this,” she said.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “It’ll look great on you at the party tonight.”

  “What party?”

  “Well, if you’d stop being offended and let me explain,” he said, then waited. When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “There’s a party tonight. A work thing. And I would love it if you would be my date.”

  “Even if I wanted to,” she began, giving a longing look at the red dress again. She hadn’t noticed the pearl beads around the waistline before, and was suddenly dying to try it on. Turning her back on the dress, she went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “I have to work tonight.”

  “So I’ll compensate you for your time,” he said simply. “Two thousand should do it, don’t you think?”

  She about choked on her water. “Are you insane?” she exclaimed. “I don’t make that in a week.”

  “Then I guess tonight’s a good night for you.”

  Now she was tempted—not only by the gorgeous mobster and his excellent taste in expensive dresses, but by the cash. “What’s your deal?” she asked. “I mean…why?”

  “Look, Mandi, I like you,” he said. “I think you’re cute and smart and that you’d look gorgeous in that dress.”

  “You’re seriously going to pay me two grand to go to a party with you?”

  “You’re worth much more than that, so I’m getting a steal.”

  “You’re crazy,” she said. But if he was willing to spend, she was willing to work. “I get to keep the dress, too?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then it’s a deal.”

  “Excellent,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  BELA HATED IT WHEN HER FAMILY THREW PARTIES. THOUGH everybody acted like it was a gala thrown by the wealthy family to welcome her father home, she knew it was just an excuse to have backroom meetings with the other mobsters. Especially since her father, who had been overseas for the past six months, was returning tonight. There was business to be done.

  Trey had had decorators and party planners traipsing through the house for the past two days, making sure everything was perfect. Bela would rather have been anywhere else, but her appearance at the party was mandatory. Even though she had a huge exam tomorrow and she really needed to study for it, Trey still wouldn’t let her off the hook.

  It was ridiculous, since she was practically invisible at these parties anyway, but Trey would notice if she bailed. Appearances were everything and how would it look if she didn’t make an effort to publicly support the family? It was easier to go along with Trey’s orders than to argue against them, so she put on a pretty dress, did her makeup and wore a fake smile.

  About an hour into the evening, she snuck a glass of Champagne and slinked off to a dark corner. Pulling out her cell phone, she tried to call Vincent yet again. She hadn’t heard from him all day. He was supposed to meet her off campus for lunch and never showed, and he usually always texted her in the afternoon to make arrangements to see her at night—which he didn’t do this time. In the back of her mind, she worried if his family had caught him. There was always that risk that the Marcanos would find out he was back in town. This time when she called him, his phone went to voicemail once again. She didn’t bother to leave a message—she’d already left two.

  As she was hanging up the phone, someone swiped the glass of Champagne out of her hand. She looked up in surprise to see Trey standing a foot away, flanked by a pretty blond in a stunning red dress. Though the girl looked gorgeous, Bela assumed she was a stripper. Trey had a thing for strippers.

  “If you want to get drunk, you’re going to have to be a lot craftier than this,” Trey said as he finished off what was left of her drink.

  “Are you kidding me?” she asked, placing a hand on her hip. “You drag me to this snooze fest and I’m not even allowed to take the edge off?”

  “Not with Dad home.” He handed the empty glass back to her and put his arm around his date. “By the way, this is Mandi. Mandi, this is my sister, Bela.”

  Bela tried to muster up a polite smile, but she was worried about Vincent and wishing she could either be with him or go study for her classes. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  Mandi smiled and shook Bela’s hand. “You too.”

  Someone signaled Trey from across the room. He nodded and turned back to the girls. “Duty calls,” he said. “Stay out of trouble, Bela.” He turned and gave Mandi a peck on the cheek. “This shouldn’t take long,” he said. Then he took off, leaving Mandi and Bela alone.

  As he joined the throng of people going into her father’s den, Bela caught a glimpse of a familiar face. Vincent was in the crowd, wearing a dark suit and looking like one of her father’s men. She couldn’t help but stare in shock, her mouth dropping open. As if sensing her gaze, Vincent looked her way. His lips slanted in a sexy, lopsided grin aimed at her.

  Chapter four

  Sal DeLuca was old and tough. His dark tanned skin had more than his fair share of scars, and his thick Italian accent always sounded intimidating. Trey stood toward the back of the room, his arms crossed as he watched his father size up the Marcano idiot who had weaseled his way into the family home. With any luck, his father would see through Vincent’s charade and let Trey deliver the bullet like he’d been wanting to do all day.

  Vincent stood in front of Sal’s desk, a gunman on each arm. “Vincent Marcano,” Sal said in an amused tone. “Never thought anyone in the city would see you again. Truth be told, I thought you were at the bottom of the river.”

  “Not yet,” Vincent replied dryly.

  “It’d serve you right.” Sal leaned back in his chair, gazing evenly at Vincent. “Tell me, what makes a man run out on his own family?”

  “To understand, I guess you’d have to know my family the way I do.”

  Sal didn’t respond to this. He stayed eerily quiet.

  “I get it,” Vincent said, stepping forward. “I left my family, so why would I want to work for yours? Why would you trust me to work for yours? Well, the reason is simple. The enemy of my enemy. As long as we have that in common, I swear you my undying loyalty.”

  “Those are big words, kid,” he said.

  “I know,” he replied.

  “I saw the security footage from the docks,” Sal said finally. “You’ve got moves. And you showed real stones today. I see no reason you can’t continue to prove yourself.”

  Trey’s instinct was to protest, but he made sure to stay quiet until he could speak to his father alone.

  “I’ll do anything,” Vincent said, like a praise-craving lap dog.

  “We’ll get to that.” Sal stood from the desk and started walking around it. “For now, everybody give me a minute with my son.”

  The people cleared from the room without another word. Trey gave Vincent a steady, even glare as he left.

  Sal leaned against his desk while the door closed. Trey waited for his father to be the first one to speak up. This was both out of habit and respect.

  Trey and his dad resembled each other in many ways, but the most obvious was their looks. They had the same jet black hair, although Trey didn’t keep his quite as short as Sal did. They shared identical dark, hardened eyes. And both of them wore a non-stop poker face of intimidation and callousness. It was safe to say that Sal had groomed Trey in his own image, but Trey had never minded. That was what sons were for; to please their fathers and eventually step into their shoes. And Trey made it a point to be the best son he could be, even if that meant he had to sell his soul to do it.

  Finally, Sal broke the silence, “How’s the arm?”

  Trey shrugged, and even though the movement hurt, he didn’t show it. “Doc patched me up,” he said. “I’m good as new.”

  “Good,” he said. “You did good today too. You almost caught that truck.”

  “Almost,” he said.

  “Just be faster next time,” he said with a dismissive wave.

/>   There was a moment—just a fraction of a second—where this caused Trey to feel a twinge of shame, as if he’d let his father down. In a way, he had. This had been his chance to show he could handle the big jobs and the problems that came with them. And instead, he’d been upstaged by his enemy. “Listen, about the Marcano guy—”

  “Fishy, isn’t it?” Sal’s expression turned thoughtful and suspicious. “I don’t trust him, either. Can’t trust a man who turns his back on his own family.”

  “That’s what I said,” he said. “So why are we letting him in? Wouldn’t it be better to use him to send a message to the Marcano family?”

  “You want to what, shoot him and leave him on their doorstep?”

  He nodded. “Maybe in pieces.”

  Sal chuckled, but a glimmer of pride marked his face, too. “My crazy, trigger happy boy,” he said. “All rage and no vision. He’s more useful alive than dead.”

  Trey still didn’t agree with this, but kept his mouth shut out of respect.

  “Just thinking about the look on Tony Marcano’s face when he finds out his oldest son is working for me makes it worth the risk that he’s a rat.” His father smirked with amusement and then pushed himself up off his desk. “You’re in charge of breaking him in,” he said. “Make him earn it, too.”

  “Gladly,” Trey said, straightening his shoulders. This was the best news he’d heard all night.

  “Send Nik in here, will ya?” he asked, returning to his desk.

  Bela kept a watchful eye on the door to her father’s den the entire time it was closed. Parked in her corner just across the room, she looked for any sign of Vincent and wondered what he’d been doing going into the den with Trey and her dad anyway.

  Mandi approached her, offering a glass of champagne. “Here,” she said. “Drink this and relax. Your boyfriend should be out soon.”

  Bela looked over at the blond girl in surprise. “What?”