She mounted the podium and turned to face the congregation. There was an audible hush and energy shift as people leaned forward for a better view of her, straining their necks in their seats. The diamond earrings on her earlobes paled in comparison with her expressive face, her black eyes flashing with an even fiercer fire than could be mined from the dark blazes of the earth’s core. An expectant hush galvanized the room.
Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, dark eyebrows arching in a dramatic natural sweep that played to every emotion. Her soft lips were parted and trembling against the microphone.
“I loved my Uncle Joey,” she said in a low, sonorous alto.
At twenty-two, Celestina Lucia Auditore was fully aware that her family had power, prestige, and importance; it was their version of normal, and she had never needed to question how or why it was. She simply accepted it, her own personal divine right. She knew nothing else, and was groomed by success. Gifts had appeared in her childhood home constantly, even when there was no holiday or birthday in sight.
Celestina’s world had never been less than epic, charmed. Obstacles disappeared somehow and celebrations were always massive affairs that lasted days, weeks. It had always been that way. And in this enchanted life she had grown with the poise and grace of a royal, always prepared to meet the demands of the spotlight and it’s various responsibilities with aplomb. She simply knew nothing else.
All her life, Celestina had experienced the miracle of privilege and known instinctively that she wasn’t exactly like other people. She wasn’t better, just…different. Certain rules didn’t apply. From an early age Celestina had sensed that her position was somehow due to the men in her family, though she never fully grasped why. They were her heroes, larger than life, and they in turn doted on her.
Now, seeing the multitude of mourners looking to her, their faces full of need for leadership and poise, she was overcome with emotion. She laughed winsomely to apologize for a spill of tears that momentarily robbed her of her voice. Then with a sigh, she launched into her eulogy with a presence beyond her years.
“One of my first memories is of my Uncle Joey taking me to Disneyworld, just the two of us. God knows where my brothers were. But Uncle Joey wanted to treat me. He always said he liked me the most because next to him I was the prettiest and had the best hair. That’s what he said. Sorry, Junior. And sorry, Cesare. But you know he never lied, so it must be true.”
From the front row, her brothers Cosmo Jr. and Cesare laughed good-naturedly. Their mother Giselle reached her arm across Cesare’s shoulders, brushing her fingertips fondly against Cosmo Junior’s shoulders and smiling tremulously at her broken family. Their father, Cosmo Sr., stoically nodded at his beautiful daughter, pride and sorrow etched in his motionless face.
“He was absolutely the best possible uncle in the world.” Celestina reminisced. “I must have been only four or five years old at the time when he took me on this trip. I remember that it was a surprise, he didn’t tell me where he was taking me, but since it was my Uncle Joey I was delighted to go.
“We drove all the way from Miami to Orlando in his beautiful red corvette, top down, Frank Sinatra on the stereo—of course. What else could we possibly listen to? We’d sing along together, and he knew all the words.”
The congregation chuckled. Celestina’s father winked at her and her eyes sparkled back, mischievously merry even under the heavy circumstances.
“He was always such an adventure, my uncle. I think that trip was his way to make his niece feel special, taking me to the magic kingdom and sharing that moment of childlike wonder with me, knowing it would be a memory I could treasure forever. I remember watching Uncle Joey interacting with all the people in the cartoon character suits and making a total fool of himself for me. You wouldn’t know it, but I was kind of shy with strangers as a kid, but Uncle Joey drew me out of myself. He made me laugh and gave me permission to be silly too. It was great being with him.”
Celestina smiled bravely.
“Maybe the best story from that day was when he bought one of those little girl princess hats and walked through the park like a robot offering to pose in strangers’ photos for most of the afternoon. You’d be surprised how many took him up on the offer. It was like I was with some celebrity or movie star or insanely large, happy kid my own age. There’s a picture of us in our matching princess hats with identical ice cream cones and a random family of French people that I keep in my wallet. It’s really hard to say which of us looked the most excited—him or me I mean—the French people just looked really confused, like, ‘What movie are they from?’”
Celestina paused for another ripple of laughs.
“Anyone who knew my Uncle Joey knew that he was a special guy. He had an infectious personality, a sharp mind, and a heart of gold for his family. He wasn’t just my uncle and godfather. He was always an example to me of how to enjoy life. He lived life to the fullest.”
The tears were threatening to take over again, and Celestina was forced to take a moment to recompose. When she lifted her head to face the crowd again her eyes had hardened and the tremble in her voice vanished, replaced with a cool tone of resolve and furious authority. She turned and bowed her head respectfully at the Bishop.
“Excuse me, Your Grace, I know it isn’t very Catholic of me, but I think this needs to be said. We know my Uncle Joey was taken from this world forcibly and too soon. Today I pray that God curse the people that did this to him, to us all. How awful to lose such a lively man in this undignified, violent way. I pray over my Uncle Joey today that justice will be served and his killers will come to be held responsible for their actions. You deserved better, Padrino. You deserved more life. I love you. Goodbye.”
Chills shot down Celestina’s spine, conviction boiling in the pit of her being as hot anger flashed from her eyes like a dagger. The Auditores never forgot. They never pardoned a wrong and never forgave a foe. Celestina, though still young and somewhat naïve by training, was a true heir of the family legacy despite her ignorance of the true nature of its business.
Poised and purposeful, she strode over to the empty coffin in her stilettos, kissed her fingertips tenderly, and touched them to the flower-laden lid. With a heavy heart Celestina followed the pallbearers and the empty coffin down the aisle, arm and arm with her father. The walk down the aisle and out of the chapel seemed deplorably long. Celestina glowered the entire way to St. Therese Mission’s cemetery, holding hands with Cosmo Jr. The older siblings were silent and smoldering, but sensitive Cesare wept openly when the urn of their uncle’s ashes was set in the private family niche that their father had arranged.
Their mother Gisella followed awkwardly behind, unable to neither join her children in grief nor truly comfort them. She had known their father and uncle for what they really were, and in her core she had long believed that their own violent lives would wreak havoc back on them in the end. Cosmo’s innocent bystander routine about Joey didn’t ring true to Gisella, but she held her peace. With a woman’s intuition, Gisella sensed more was behind the story of Joey’s death than her ex-husband had revealed. If she’d learned anything from their marriage, it was that there was always information withheld.
Gisella’s children were still mostly unaware of the true nature of their father’s business enterprises. She’d seen to that after the divorce, and sheltered them as best she could. Private schools and college had helped, but the key had been Cosmo’s promised to keep it that way. He had been surprisingly supportive in seeking legitimate paths for their kids, and, shockingly, understanding of Gisella’s desire to shield them from the street life. They’d received an impressive education by any standard, and secured impressive internships. Their father seemed serious about giving them their freedom, and Gisella fervently prayed he’d live up to his word.
Joey’s death hit home, though, and Gisella was worried. Nothing had ever hit them this close to home before, and the effects were unpredictable. But then, everything was unpre
dictable when you married a gangster. She thought back to their courtship when he had swept her off her feet. The warning signs had been there but like a young lovesick little fool she had ignored them, choosing instead blindness and fickle-lust. She’d found out eventually though—god, how she’d found out…
But now, Gisella knew that Cosmo needed them there. He was vulnerable as she’d never seen him before. Gisella understood that he needed to be with his kids. Just as certainly, she knew that there was nothing she could do to influence whatever he might say to them. Looking at her ex-husband with pleading eyes, she squeezed his hand and slipped out of the private area and back to the chapel.
Finally alone with his kids in the echoing vault, Cosmo felt his throat close. He spread his arms wide and drew all three of his children into a massive bear hug. Allowing them to see him shed a few tears for his brother, he embraced them in silence and waited until his emotions evened out.
“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said at long last, releasing his offspring and giving them each a kiss on the forehead. He patted his youngest on the cheek. At twenty, Cesare was already a handsome young man, reminding Cosmo so much of Joey’s teenage years that standing beside him in the vault was eerie.
“Cesare,” said Cosmo, “I know you’re heading back off to school as you should. You’re old man is proud of you already, and you still have two years to go. Keep it up, baby. Finish those credentials and get every edge you can. But Celestina and Junior, I really want you to think about what I said to you yesterday. I was serious.”
Jarred from her sad contemplation of Joey’s urn, Celestina turned and nestled her head on her father’s shoulder. Feeling the need to be close, she wrapped her arms around his side supportively. He sheltered her. She strengthened him. It was the symbiosis of family. She led him out of the crypt and into the sunlight.
“Daddy, we don’t have to talk about it yet if you don’t want,” murmured Celestina. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of time. Business can wait.”
The hot Vegas sun assaulted Cosmo’s senses, and he snapped on his sunglasses. “What’s the first thing I taught you in life? Remember what I always say?”
“Do it now,” recited Junior.
His father gave him a spirited clap on the back, grinning. “Do it now! That’s right! Because who knows? Who knows how much time there is? Don’t put off for tomorrow what you can do today.”
“Mmm,” said Celestina. “I remember. Never procrastinate.”
Cosmo’s stomach was in knots. He hadn’t slept since he’d found out about Joey. The thought of his children leaving again was tearing him up. He took their hands in his as they strolled down the cement path back toward the cars.
“Just think about it.” He said in a husky voice, glad for his protective sunglasses. “You don’t have to decide today all right, but the offer stands for you to come live with me here. I’ve got the space, and I could really use your help filling your uncle’s shoes at work. I need the best and brightest so of course I thought of my own college graduates. You’ve got the credentials, the brains, the beauty. You’re just the kids I’d want to hire. Why look further?”
Junior frowned thoughtfully as they walked, studying his sister’s reactions through slanted eyes. She was listening patiently, her expression difficult to read.
“The experience helping to manage the casinos would be terrific for you,” Cosmo persisted. “I know you’re capable of running your own careers, this is not about that. What I really want to emphasize is that if you came to Las Vegas, it would be a big help to me, but most of all we can be there for each other. That’s the most important thing. Family should be close. You’re my family, all I got, and I love you more than anything. I know you have your lives to lead, but who knows what could happen? Your uncle’s passing just goes to show us how precious and short life can be.”
Celestina looked from her brother’s raised eyebrows to her father’s moist eyes. She thought of the years growing up without him, and made a decision. An infectious smile beamed over her face as she picked up and kissed her father’s hand.
“Of course if you need help I’m here for you, Daddy. I’ll come to Vegas.”
Junior nodded solemnly. “Me too.”
Overcome with emotion, Cosmo kissed each child again. He bent and kissed his brother’s urn, turned, and crisply marched away from the tomb.
Celestina bent down and gently laid the photograph she’d mentioned in her speech on the urn, smiling tearfully at it. She had her own reasons for capitulating to her father’s request so quickly. She hated seeing him torn up like this, hated seeing him struggle with the idiot gangsters who were sabotaging his efforts to establish himself in Las Vegas. She wanted to be a part of fixing things, of making things better for her father, and whoever had killed her Uncle Joey needed to pay. Revenge had to happen, even if it meant she had to stay in the empty desert and see to it herself. It was a certainty, a promise as sure as the fall of night.
All that remained to be seen was how and when.
Chapter Four
The automatic alarm triggered in Celestina’s iPhone dock, prompting an effusion of music in the still air of her suite until the colors of a Scarlatti sonata took shape. A soft groan from the bed chorused with the andante comodo swell of the music, shattering the quiet of oblivion. Celestina awoke to the dense orange light of the Las Vegas afternoon spilling across her face. Through her eyelids the light had a thick sweet feeling, like blood-orange jam, which coaxed her from her fitful dreams.
The soothing music did little to soften the blow of her hangover.
“Good morning, Miss Auditore,” said Diana Nunez, Celestina’s assistant. She followed the wake of a maid and a breakfast cart into the room, her crisp pantsuit making a swishing sound with every step. While the maid arranged the trays of food, Diana marched into the bathroom and started the shower. “Your two o’clock is waiting.”
“Hm.” Celestina grumbled. She threw a shapely arm over her eyes, trying to shut out the day. It couldn’t possibly be time to get up already. Hadn’t she just lain down?
Sleep had been elusive since taking the helm as her father’s Vice President of Casino Operations. Her jurisdiction covered his entire franchise of five casinos, though she had moved in as Resident Manager at Caesar’s Palace and was focusing her efforts there.
When her father had asked her to stay and work for him after her Uncle Joey’s funeral, she hadn’t realized just how much it would tax her brain and energy. The Patron Database was full of holes. Her father and uncle had been running many things in their franchise off the books, by memory. Celestina found this utterly insane and had gaped open-mouthed at her father the first day she sat down with him to review his electronic systems.
“See, this is why I need you,” Cosmo had said with a wink that first afternoon, squeezing his daughter’s hand over the mouse on her desk. “I would never think of these fancy new gizmos.”
Who ran a gaming corporation by memory? Celestina had never worked harder in her life than in the past month of helping out her dad. He’d gone to Harvard Business School before her; he knew better.
In the weeks following her uncle’s death, the casinos had run on shaky automatic pilot but now Celestina was whipping them into shape again. Updating and streamlining his business systems, introducing new software programs and staff trainings…no one could tell beneath Celestina’s poise that she was exhausting herself.
Luckily, the Board of Directors for Strip Kings LLC was comprised of her Father, her grandfather, and the family’s lawyer Vince Schulz, so she was able work without interference.
Just the way she liked it.
At Caesar’s Palace, she quickly shook the dust off of the status quo. Naturally she’d had to fire a few stiff-necked department heads. The sweaty, curly-haired pervert named Bill Wilson who managed the kitchen at the Encore had marked a turning point. The moment they had been introduced, he’d let his eyes settle on her breasts with a leer.
/> “So you’re the new manager tart whose ass I’m supposed to kiss,” he’d wheezed. “I’ve worked in this industry for thirty years and I don’t answer to no gussied up teenage goomah.”
Goomah. Mafia slut.
Slander and lies! Her family was successful business owners, philanthropists, and patrons of the arts. Incensed, Celestina hadn’t waited to file the sexual harassment charges, never mind the fact that she was 22 and a Harvard graduate.
“This is a legitimate business of which I am an active Vice President,” she had fumed, her voice dangerously quiet. “Mr. Wilson, you do answer to me. Thirty years is all you will get in this or any other industry. You’re fired.”
Word spread throughout the company of her fiery encounter with Wilson. Celestina was concerned she’d come on too strong. People would avoid eye contact and scurry away from her like the plague. They were scared of her.
Then she received an anonymous death threat, a messy letter of glued-together newspaper cuttings. Celestina’s father insisted on personal guards stationed outside her suite while she slept, outside her office while she worked. Cosmo was convinced Joey’s death was no accident, and he warned Celestina every day that to venture into the city on her own was tempting fate.
Her world became a small circle—Cosmo Auditore’s circle. Work, sleep, repeat. On a typical night, the blue light of Celestina’s tablet strained her eyes into the wee hours of the morning. Celestina dreamt in spreadsheets and corporate speak.
And it was getting lonely.
Last night, she’d decided enough was enough. When her shift ended at two a.m., she swept her brother Junior from his office, slipped two hundred dollar bills to each of their bodyguards to dismiss them, and hopped into a taxi.
“The Luxor,” she’d barked, not knowing why. “Club LAX.”
Celestina couldn’t remember the last time she’d danced with strangers or shot tequila; it had probably been the weekend she graduated from Harvard. She barely remembered anything concrete after her class had thrown their caps in the air and hugged each other. It was all a golden blur, just like last night. Tequila had that effect on her. Her father would be furious if he found out his kids had slipped out of his protective net for even an instant, but they had truly needed to blow off steam.
Riding Filthy Page 3