Dangerous Beauty: Part Three: This is War

by Hardin, Michelle

  “No,” he answered quickly. “No fucking way. I’m talking a real partnership here.”

  Nathan shook his head and removed his suit jacket, handing it off to one of his men as they continued walking. “Do I look like I need a fucking pusher, Ricci?” he questioned, his amusement quickly becoming irritation.

  “No, Salerno. I’m not asking to be your pusher.”

  Nathan stopped walking and looked down at the man. “Then what the fuck is it that you’re asking, Ricci? Because it sounds to me like you’re asking for a job. I give you access to my quality products, you sell the shit to your associates, then take a portion of my money for shit I fucking produced. Am I right?”

  Before Ricci could answer, Nathan turned and finished the walk to their destination, which was a beautiful Italian restaurant that he owned. One of the first businesses he’d started on his own with a buddy of his—from his one year stint in college—that became a chef. His name was Salvatore Russo, and the guy was an amazing cook. Nathan had tasted his food at another Italian restaurant where he’d had a part time gig, and after Nathan had recognized him he offered him the position as head chef in his restaurant. The man had eagerly accepted and thrived in his own kitchen. Nathan’s restaurant launched Salvatore’s career.

  “Nathan!” Salvatore came bursting through the kitchen doors excitedly to greet him. “How are you, old friend?”

  He and Salvatore embraced one another the way true Italians would. Loud laughter, bear hugs, and ridiculously loud slaps on the back.

  “I’m great, Sal. How are you? How’s business?” Nathan asked.

  “I’m great, and business is even better,” he stated proudly. “The Times will be here tomorrow to do a piece. They’d love to have you there, buddy.”

  Nathan shook his head. “You know me. You’re the face of this restaurant, Sal. I’ll just fade into the background and collect my riches.”

  Salvatore laughed heartily. “Same ole, Nathan.” He slapped Nathan on the back again. “How’s the wife? It’s getting closer to that time …”

  Nathan nodded. Carter and Salvatore had met a few times, and each time they’d enjoyed each other’s company. “She’s doing wonderful for a woman carrying two Salerno men.”

  Salvatore laughed. “I remember when Donna had our first. I was scared shitless, but Macy is the best thing God has ever given me.”

  Smiling, Nathan grinned. “That’s good, buddy. You don’t mind my colleagues and I dropping in for a late lunch do you?” Nathan didn’t have to ask—he knew that—and he knew Salvatore wanted him to stay, but asking the man just made Nathan look like he was actually a nice person.

  “No, please stay,” he insisted. “It’s your restaurant and you barely eat here.”

  Nathan chuckled but didn’t respond. The restaurant served its purpose, and that’s all he cared about. The fact that it was a successful business was merely a plus.

  “Have a seat, I’ll whip you all up something special. It would really be my pleasure.”

  Nathan nodded as his men and Ricci followed him back to a secluded area he kept reserved for his visits to the restaurant. Nathan made sure to sit at the table next to the large window so the relentless detectives—that he knew were snapping photos of him, as they did every day—could at least get his good side. Once they were seated, Nathan resumed their meeting. He motioned for Ricci to continue once the server brought him a glass of scotch.

  “I wasn’t asking to be your pusher, Salerno. I’m offering more territory without the threat of a war—”

  “A threat of a war? With who? You?” Nathan asked.

  Ricci shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

  Nathan chuckled. “Be real, Ricci. If you want to talk bullshit, then you might as well leave now. However, if you want to talk business, the first thing I’m going to need is honesty. You aren’t offering me anything I can’t acquire myself, regardless of your weak threat of war.”

  “I wasn’t threatening you …”

  “But you are wasting my time,” Nathan snapped. “Tell me what you really want.”

  Ricci visibly swallowed and sat up straight in his seat. Smoothing his hand down his tie, he leaned forward and spoke low. “It’s Bonaducci.”

  “Bonaducci?”

  After he’d nodded, Ricci cleared his throat. “Yes. They’re closing in on my territory, threatening my guys, and killing my business. I’m losing money dealing with these guys.”

  “What have you done to piss off Don Bonaducci?” Nathan asked, suddenly becoming interested in the man’s issue.

  Ricci shook his head vigorously. “Nothing, I swear. I keep to myself, do my business, but now I can’t because the Bonaduccis are expanding.”

  Nathan frowned. “Expanding?”

  “Yeah, and he’s not just pushing me out either. He hit Reeves hard after you broke ties with him. Murdered half of his men and stole a good amount of his money.”

  Nathan’s eyebrow arched. “Bonaducci’s hitting small time gangsters?”

  The desperate fucking idiots. Since Nathan was a teenager his father and Don Bonaducci had been in a sort cold war. The two families would never be at peace.

  “Yes. Now he’s closing in on myself, Chino, Mick, and Ruzzio.”

  Some mob families from Jersey and Las Vegas.

  “What the fuck is Bonaducci doing in Vegas?” Nathan knew that Don Bonaducci had ambitions of taking over as New York’s most powerful family—which was fucking impossible—but he hadn’t known that he wanted Vegas, too. It was laughable. “So what is it that you want? To warn me?” When Nathan chuckled softly, his men joined in with him. He looked to the entrance to the room right as Lucca, Kyle, and Mickey entered. Dante was in the country with Carter.

  “What’d we miss?” Lucca asked, pulling up a seat next to Nathan. “Hello, Mr. Marino.”

  Ricci nodded to Lucca. “Good day, Salerno.”

  Kyle and Mickey sat at the table behind them.

  Nathan retrieved a glass for his cousin and poured him a drink. “Am I being followed?” Nathan asked them. He was sure that he was, but he’d sent the guys to confirm.

  Lucca picked up his scotch and nodded as he took a drink. “Yep,” he answered, setting his glass back down.

  Nathan nodded and waited for Lucca to continue, but Lucca said nothing. After a minute, Lucca felt Nathan’s stare and looked over to him.

  He frowned. “What?” he asked.

  Nathan blinked. “What the fuck do you mean what? Who is it?”

  Glaring, Lucca shook his head. “Don’t yell at me, cugino. It’s not nice. It’s hot outside and myself, Kyle, and Mickey just got here. Excuse me for wanting to take a break for a second.”

  Nathan’s nostrils flared in aggravation. “Do you all see?” he asked to every man in the room. “This is why you don’t work with family.” Lucca rolled his eyes and reached for his drink again. Nathan snatched it back. “Lucca Salerno.”

  “It’s not, Silas,” Lucca said in annoyance. Nathan returned his drink. “It’s Warren.”

  Detective Marvin Warren of NYPD. The man was a serious pain in Nathan’s ass. Every week the motherfucker came to Nathan with some bullshit, accusing him of doing the most outlandish things.

  Nathan didn’t show any reaction to the news; instead, he moved on with the meeting. “Bonaducci is closing in on a few old friends. He’s trying to build an empire the only way they know how.”

  “By stealing it?” Kyle asked.

  Nathan nodded.

  “That didn’t work out to well for him last time,” Mickey remarked. “Didn’t your father almost kill him?”

  Nathan nodded again. “Bonaducci is using intimidation, murder, and anything he can to push them out and take over. He’s also pursuing some endeavors in Las Vegas.”

  Lucca snorted. “Not happening. Vegas is packed. They’ll block him out.”

  “He’s trying to knock Ruzzio. My guess is he’s going to kill the guy and take over his territory in Vegas,” Nathan stated, the
n looked back over to Ricci. “He’ll probably to kill you, too.” He took another drink of his scotch and sat back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. “I believe I know what it is you want now, Ricci. You want protection. You want my family to partner with yours, so if Bonaducci fucks with Marino, he’s fucking with Salerno.”

  “I’ll do whatever I need to do,” Ricci pleaded. “I’ll buy in, give payments on time, whatever! I’m sick of this shit. I want Bonaducci to back the fuck off. He won’t fuck with Angelo Salerno’s shit. Everybody knows that. Please,” he begged. “I’m asking this as someone that’s always abided by the peace agreement set by our fathers back when we were in diapers, man. My father left me everything he built. I can’t let that piece of shit Bonaducci just … take it!”

  Dammit! Nathan felt for the idiot. He’d accomplished what many never could by begging like that. He had made Nathan actually want to help him. Why? Because Nathan understood. Being the son of a powerful mafia boss himself, he knew he had big shoes to fill whenever his father stepped down. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel about himself if he let all that his father had worked to build be taken by some cowardice thief.

  “I’ll look into what you’re saying and contact you with my decision,” Nathan said.

  He felt for the guy, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t just going to jump into a partnership without doing some extensive research first.

  “That’s all for today,” he stated dismissively. “You can go now.”

  Ricci Marino nodded his head and stood. “Thanks, Salerno. Congratulations to you and your wife. I look forward to hearing from you.”

  Without another word, he left the restaurant. Not too long after, a comfortable silence fell over the room as Nathan sat back, stared out of the window, and thought over the meeting while everyone else enjoyed the meal that Salvatore had prepared. When another man entered the room, nobody acknowledge him. They all knew better than to do that. Every man continued to eat, some even began soft conversations.

  Still looking out the window, Nathan caught something on the opposite side of the street. His eyebrows rose as he laid eyes on the adorable little creature and a smile pulled at his lips. He was pretty sure he’d just found that something special to take home to his family. He called over one of his men, giving him instructions to go across the street and bring the creature back to him.

  “How are you today, Mr. Salerno?”

  Nathan released a long, exasperated breath when the man joined him and Lucca at their table. “I was hoping you’d just be taking pictures today, Detective.” Nathan turned his gaze to Detective Marvin Warren. “Although, I’d like to know why you are taking the pictures in the first place.”

  “So you know you’re being followed?”

  Nathan nodded. “I do. I’m looking forward to hearing why you are following me.” Nathan hated the man, despised him. If Marvin weren’t with the fucking PD, Nathan would rip the fucker’s head off with his bare hands.

  Marvin narrowed his dark black eyes on Nathan and smiled smugly. “You’re mafia.”

  “You’re wasting your time,” Nathan said with a smirk. “What else you got?”

  “The reason I’m here.” The detective reached in his pocket and pulled out a stack of pictures. “Where is she?”

  When he laid the pictures on the table and Nathan saw the woman in them, he could barely sit in his seat. A murderous rage surged violently through his blood, pulsing rapidly through his veins and making his heart pound a million angry beats a minute.

  Lucca lifted his gaze as well, and when he saw the pictures he dropped his fork on the plate in front of him. He reached for his napkin and wiped his face, then slammed the napkin back down on the table, making the detective flinch.

  “Does privacy mean anything to you disrespectful motherfuckers?” Lucca snapped. “When did the goddamn PD become of gang of lurking ass photographers? Every time we turn around, you’re throwing some fucking pictures on a table!”

  “Lucca,” Nathan chided softly. “Excuse yourself.”

  Lucca slammed his hands on the table. “I need to go outside before I do something stupid,” he said tightly as he excused himself from the table and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Mickey stood from his seat and walked over. When he saw the pictures, he looked at Nathan.

  Nathan silenced him before he spoke a word. “Join Lucca outside please, Mikilo.”

  He immediately did as instructed.

  “All of you can go,” he told the rest of his men. “Kyle, you stay.”

  Kyle was the only one that could keep Nathan calm. His father had always taught him the importance of keeping his cool and never giving in to the infamous Salerno temper, but it was times like these that reminded him how much he enjoyed slapping motherfuckers.

  Kyle pulled up a seat and didn’t say a word.

  “You have very loyal workers for a business man, Nathan Salerno,” Marvin said, watching the men leave. “The blind obedience is astounding.”

  “It’s also not illegal,” Nathan replied tightly. He tapped his finger, drawing attention to the pictures on the table. “Kindly tell me why you are carrying around pictures of my wife, Detective.”

  Chuckling, he sat back in his seat. “I heard you got married. Congratulations by the way.”

  “Why do you have pictures of my wife, Detective?” Nathan asked again, his patience wearing thin.

  He continued to avoid Nathan’s question. “She’s beautiful, but not your usual type. And here I thought you were racists,” he said with amusement in his voice. “You’ve always hated me, and I assumed it was because I’m black.” With a wry laugh, he shrugged nonchalantly. “But here you done gone and married a sista.” He lifted a picture of Carter walking out of the S.O. building and let out a long whistle. “She’s fine, too … damn fine. Can barely get the guys down at the station to stop stealing these pictures.” He leaned in as if telling a secret. “Between you and me, I’m pretty sure they’ve been sneaking in my desk and taking the good ones home.” After he said the words, he burst into an uproarious laughter.

  Nathan didn’t move a muscle, he didn’t even breath. The man was so desperate to get a rise out of Nathan, but he refused to give the detective the satisfaction of making him lose his cool. He gave away nothing in his expression as a million different murder scenarios flashed through his mind. Slowly. He’d murder detective Marvin Warren slowly.

  Kyle said nothing as well, knowing that his presence alone would keep Nathan from doing something stupid.

  After the detective’s laughter had died down, he pointed at the picture. “Is she dead?”

  Even though Nathan was confused by the question, his expression remained impassive. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me, Salerno. The girl, is she dead?”

  Nathan could no longer hide the disgust he felt at the sight of the man; it was now more than evident on his face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Marvin snorted. “Word on the street is that ruckus a few months back was because this woman, your wife, was attacked. Taken, and killed. So I had to ask myself, why wouldn’t Nathan Salerno report his wife missing? The reports and witnesses said that shots were fired and a woman was shot, yet when we get on the scene,” he lifted his hands, “nothing. Description of the victim was black female, twenties or thirties, long black hair, about 5’6 to 5’8, 135 pounds.”

  “My wife is only five foot four, Detective.”

  He shrugged. “The witnesses were frightened. They could have missed a description or two.”

  “So you think that I … what? Killed my wife?” Nathan asked, unable to hide his amusement.

  “No,” he answered in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think you hired someone to kill your wife.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  The detective leaned forward in his seat. “Because she found out your little secret.”

  Nathan mimicked the detective’
s action and leaned forward. “Did she?”

  “I read up on your wife, Salerno. She came from a small town, both of her parents died in a tragic car accident that she survived …”

  Nathan smiled on the inside. It was truly amazing what the right friend and the right amount of money could do to a person’s identity.

  “She was just an innocent girl with big city dreams. Smart and talented with ambitions of becoming a business woman.”

  “So what happened to her?” Nathan asked, interested in hearing the story about this small town girl with big city dreams.

  “She got a job as a secretary for one of the biggest organizations in the United States. Only problem was, she didn’t know that it was just a front for a ruthless mafia family …”

  Nathan and Kyle ooo’d, ahh’d, and gasped as the detective continued the story.

  “Here’s my theory. You see her and are immediately attracted to her. You make her your personal assistant, she eventually became your mistress, and you fool the poor girl into loving you, then convinced her to marry you.”

  “But why did I kill her? If I married her I must have loved her.”

  “You didn’t love her. She was just a front for you. She’s a good girl, from a good family. She looks good on your arm, makes you look normal.”

  Nathan nodded. “So what went wrong?” he asked.

  “She found out,” he answered simply. “She found out who you really were, and she threatened to turn you in. So instead of spending the rest of your life in jail, you have her killed.”

  “In the middle of a New York street?”

  He shrugged. “I never said you were smart about it. I know you have men on the inside, Salerno. Trust me, I’ll find every dirty cop and judge that you and your father have in your pocket. And when I do, I’ll get justice for that girl and the many other people you and your father have hurt.”

  “So that’s what you think I am, Detective?” Nathan asked. “Some villain preying on the innocent of New York City.”

  The detective shrugged.

  Nathan sat and stared at the man for a moment before he spoke again. “So, you were taking pictures of this small town secretary because?”