Little did Carlo realize, it was this second aspect of the docks that was responsible for his visit to Fiumicino today.
He pulled up to the harbor’s parking lot and got out of the car, taking in the sight of the ships all around him that stretched out as far as the eye could see in both directions. There were ships of all sizes, from huge shipping vessels coming in from Asia all the way down to fishing boats that were just a few meters in length, all sharing space on the docks with each other. The Pirelli-run area was a little ways down the wharf, past a few sketchy-looking alleyways and a tiny, trash-ridden beach.
It was on this beach that Carlo saw his brother, pacing up and down in the sand and yelling into his cell phone. Rocky saw Carlo approach, and held up a hand to his older brother to signify that he was almost done.
“Listen, I don’t care what you have to do, you got that?” Rocky said, holding the phone up to his mouth and talking into it. “You just fucking get me what I asked for. I’m a Pirelli, God damn it.”
Carlo’s eyebrows arched upwards, and his mouth dropped open slightly. What the hell was his brother doing?
Rocky resumed his agitated pacing around the beach, nodding energetically as he barked his orders into the phone. “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Listen, I gotta go. You call me back – and you better fuckin’ make me happy.” He slammed the phone shut in his palm.
“Piece of shit,” Rocky said, and then turned to look at his brother. A wide grin broke out across his face. “Carlo!” he cried, and he opened his arms wide for an embrace. Carlo’s arms opened reflexively, but he remained silent and stunned as they hugged.
“Rocky, what the fuck was that?” he asked, as they pulled away. His brother shrugged, still smiling.
“These fucking Turks, man,” he said. “You gotta show ‘em who’s boss, or they’ll never respect you. I got a big shipment in this morning, just arrived from Istanbul. I’m meeting my guy in half an hour to pick up the stuff.”
Carlo shook his head. “Not that,” he said. “It’s your business how you talk to people. Why the fuck are you going around saying you’re a Pirelli?”
Rocky’s face darkened.
“What do these guys know?” he replied, a lame response. “I gotta let them know I mean business. Besides, we work for the family, don’t we? That counts for something.”
“You know what Dom would do if he heard you saying you’re a Pirelli,” Carlo said. “There’s a difference between working for the family and being part of it. You’re gonna get yourself into trouble, brother.”
“Don’t tell me how to run my business,” he said sullenly.
“Forget business,” he pressed. “This is about family. You’re an Ambrosi, Rocky. Your father built a fucking art museum. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Carlo threw his arms open to the decrepit docks surrounding them.
“Just look around you,” he said, stepping closer to his brother as he spoke. “You really wanna throw away your father’s name, just to trade it for this shit? What’s wrong with you?”
“Fuck you,” he snarled, pushing Carlo away with both hands. Carlo pushed him back, hard, and Rocky had to stumble backwards a couple of steps. Carlo had three inches on his thin, scrawny brother, and twenty pounds of muscle on him easily. They stared at each other with adrenaline in their eyes.
“I’m not saying this to start a fight,” Carlo said, his voice softening. “I’m worried about you, that’s all. Sometimes it doesn’t seem like you realize how dangerous this shit is.”
“I can take care of myself,” Rocky said, but Carlo shook his head.
“That’s not what I meant,” he replied. “Sure, you’ll survive – that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m talking about dangerous in the sense that once you let this life get into your head, it changes you. You won’t be able to leave it. I know you’ve always loved the mob. Those movies you watched, how could you think anything different? But you gotta think, Rocky. Is this really the life you want for yourself?”
Rocky stayed silent, not allowing himself to admit his brother’s point.
“Look what happened to me,” Carlo said softly, turning his eyes out to the ocean. “I hate this shit, and I’m still here eight years later.”
“You can leave,” his brother said suddenly. Carlo turned to him, a questioning look on his face.
“You can leave,” he said again, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Talk to Dom, Carlo. He trusts you – he respects you. He knows you’ve done your time. See what he has to say about it.”
Now it was Carlo who was on the defensive. “He’ll never agree to it,” he said weakly, but both of them knew that was a hollow excuse. He looked into his brother’s eyes.
“Okay,” Carlo said finally. “I’ll talk to him. Happy? But you gotta promise me, brother – when the time’s right, you’ll walk away too. We work for the Pirellis, but that’s it.”
He thought back to that conversation with his father over the kitchen table, eight long years ago.
“That’s what I told Dad when I started, you know. I told him I’d go to work for them, but I’d never forget who I was.”
Rocky nodded quietly, not saying anything. It was a rare moment of candor between them, and each felt a newfound understanding of the other. They spent a few minutes like that, Rocky’s hand still on his older brother’s shoulder, both of them thinking about their father.
“Come on,” said Carlo, “let’s get out of here. I’ll drive you to pick up the shipment, and then we gotta go back to Trastevere. Dom sent me her personally to come get you. You know anything about that?”
Rocky’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Dom sent you?” he said, thinking for a few moments. “…No, brother, I have no idea.”
Carlo smiled, shaking his head. “That guy’s a nutjob. Who knows what he wants. I guess we’ll find out when he wants us to.”
“I guess so,” Rocky laughed. “Come on, let’s go.”
As they headed back to the car, Carlo checked his cell phone – to his surprise, there was a missed call from Jessica. “Shit,” he muttered, and quickly re-dialed while walking a few steps away from his brother.
Three rings… then four. But just as he was about to hang up, the line opened, and he heard that beautiful voice of hers once again.
“Hello?”
“Jessica!” he replied, a little too enthusiastically. He collected himself. “Is everything all right?”
The guilt in her voice was audible. “Hi, Carlo,” she groaned. “Listen, I’m so sorry about this morning. I… wasn’t feeling well. But I’m better now.”
“That’s great,” he said, his heart beating lightly all of a sudden. “I was worried something had happened. I thought maybe you decided the museum wasn’t worth your trouble.”
“No, no,” she giggled, “nothing like that. I’m dying to see it, actually. And I want to see you again.”
“…You do?” he asked, and then grimaced at how stupid that sounded.
“Of course I do,” she said. “But, Carlo, um… I can’t make it today… can we maybe meet sometime tomorrow?”
He’d stopped walking, and he now realized Rocky was staring back at him with his hands on his hips. When Carlo met his eyes, he contorted his face into a comic expression and began thrusting his hips obscenely. Carlo turned away abruptly, and Rocky burst out in laughter.
“Ah... tomorrow’s perfect!” he said, walking hastily away from his brother. “The museum closes early on Saturdays, actually. Can you come at 5 o’clock? We’ll have the place to ourselves… it will be beautiful.”
“Sounds great,” she said. “I’ll see you then, Carlo. And I promise not to stand you up this time.”
“Stand…up?” he said, confused at the English expression.
She laughed. “Never mind – I’ll be there! See you!”
“See you…” he said, as the line disconnected. He turned around to face his brother, a thin smile lighting up his face, not even hearing the jokes a
nd taunting his brother launched into immediately.
All he could think about was Jessica – of how beautiful she was, and of how excited he was to be meeting her again. For a few brief moments, the thought of her had taken his mind away from the mafia business, even in the middle of the docks he so hated.
And if she was able to do that, Carlo knew she must be really something special.
Chapter Fourteen
Dominic slid the glass of vodka across the desk, and Alexei caught it in an open palm.
“Nostrovia,” said Alexei, and they clinked glasses. Dom shot back the vodka in a single gulp, while Alexei sipped his slowly. Vodka wasn’t exactly Dominic’s liquor of choice, but when meeting with Russians he knew it was the only appropriate drink for the occasion.
“So,” said Alexei, swirling the shot glass absentmindedly in his hand. “About this order of yours.”
Dom smiled. “That’s what I like about you, Alexei. You Russians always cut right to the chase. If you were Italian, I’d probably be asking you how your kids are doing right now.”
He shrugged. “We are busy men.”
“That we are.” Dominic pulled a paper out from inside his desk, glancing over it quickly to remember the details. He frowned, nodding, then cleared his throat once before he spoke.
“Kalashnikovs,” he said, regarding Alexei with a careful eye to see how he’d react. “Explosives. Bulletproof vests, if you’ve got them. And ammunition… lots of ammunition.”
The Russian hardly batted an eye. “It is all possible. Just tell me the quantity.”
Dominic handed over the sheet of paper. “Here. Take a look for yourself.”
Alexei took the paper nonchalantly, pulling out a pair of reading glasses from the pocket of his shirt. He skimmed over the paper for a few seconds, then folded it up and put it in his pocket along with the glasses. Dominic watched as he picked up his vodka, swirled it again thoughtfully, and then gulped it back all at once.
“This is a very large order,” he said. Dom looked for any hint of a question in his tone, but didn’t detect any. That’s what made him trust Alexei – he didn’t interfere with the business, didn’t ask questions or try to figure out what was going on. The guy could care less, really – as he’d explained it to Dom once, all he did was provide a service.
But Dominic had never placed an order on anything close to this scale before… there had never been a reason, not until now. And that meant he had to be extra careful to make sure it all went smoothly.
“Can you fill it?” asked Dominic.
“Of course,” he replied. “The explosives will take some time – I’ll need five to seven days for that. But the guns and ammunition, I can bring to you by Tuesday.”
Dominic nodded. “And what if I send someone to go pick it up somewhere?”
Alexei shook his head. “I’ll be getting the goods from all over. And my network is very close-knit. They won’t trust anyone they haven’t dealt with.” He paused, looking at Dom steadily. “…Do you need these things so soon?”
“Never mind,” Dom replied. “Tuesday’s fine. Just tell me the price.”
“It should come to around eighty thousand,” Alexei said. “Forty thousand in advance. I’ll have the final figure for you by tomorrow.”
“No problem,” said Dom. “I’ll send the cash to your office.”
“Anything else?” Alexei asked, with a bored expression on his face that made him look like he was discussing someone’s tax returns, rather than selling weapons to a mob boss. It was enough firepower to equip a small army, and yet Alexei remained as unruffled as always.
Dom shook his head, grabbing the bottle and pouring another drink for each of them. “I appreciate your professionalism, Alexei,” he said, handing the glass to Alexei as each man rose from his chair. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
Alexei smiled that same thin smile as he held his glass aloft.
“Nostrovia.”
Chapter Fifteen
Jessica held the phone to her ear and listened intently as it began to ring. She didn’t quite know why she was calling, but she somehow felt compelled to speak to Dominic and let him know she was on the way. He was that type, she figured; always wanting to know what was going on, always wanting to keep tabs on things. She already felt a strange notion that she was allowing herself to fall under his control – but she liked it, and she wanted it to go further.
Even now, in the cab, thinking about him was turning her slightly giddy with anticipation – and, yes, attraction. She was picturing him stalking back and forth in some upstairs office, that fire in his eyes that never seemed to go away. As the phone rang, she realized that her heart was beating slightly faster, and the anxiousness was rising like a lump in her throat as she waited for him to speak.
But she didn’t have to wait long. “Hello?” his gruff voice came, sending a brief tingle of pleasure through her brain. She smiled in spite of herself.
“Hey,” she said simply. “It’s Jessica.”
“I know,” he replied, and she felt herself blushing. Of course he knew – what a stupid thing to say! She found herself wanting to please him, wanting him to think she was smart, cool and sexy. She recollected herself and pressed on.
“I just called to let you know I’m almost there,” she said. “We just reached Trastevere. Where should I meet you?”
“Are you hungry?”
Actually, Jessica was feeling much too anxious to have an appetite. Her hangover was gone now, after a long day of sleeping and resting her body in the hotel room, but the prospect of a big dinner right now wasn’t exactly something she was looking forward to. She was mostly just coming to see Dominic – but she was too shy to let him know that.
“Well…” she demurred, but he sensed her tone and interrupted before she could think of what to say.
“Actually, Jessica, I’m still in the office just now. It’s on the top floor, above Terrazza – why don’t you come here? We can have a drink before dinner… if you’re up to it, that is.”
She smiled. “I’m not sure I should be drinking for a while, to be honest.”
“We’ll see about that,” he laughed. “I’m sure you’ll accept at least a small glass of red wine. Anyway, come to the office and we’ll talk about it.”
She laughed. “Okay, sure. But, uh, Dominic…”
“Yes?”
Her cab was just pulling into the parking lot of Terrazza. “I’m already here, actually.”
“Oh, is that your cab I see? Perfect. Come right up.”
He hung up, and she looked quizzically at the phone and then up at the building before her. She wondered if he could see her from his office window – but then, looking up at the walls, she realized they were adorned with several small black security cameras scanning the parking lot below.
It made sense, she reasoned, for a club to have cameras… but something about the way he so matter-of-factly told her he could see her made her slightly uneasy. She shook it off, though, and stepped out of the cab to pay the driver. In an instant, the bouncer from last night was there to escort her to the building.
“Back so soon?” he asked her, teasing.
She smiled. “Hi, Luca.”
“Ah, wow,” he grinned. “So you remember my name.”
“Yep,” she replied. “But that’s about all I remember, to be honest. Tell me, did I make a fool of myself or what?”
He waved off her question. “No, no, come on. Everyone has a few drinks now and then. So, what brings you back this evening?”
“I’m meeting Dominic, actually… he told me to come to his office.”
If Luca found her answer strange, his face didn’t give away any hint of it. “Very good,” he said. “Come, please – I’ll show you upstairs.”
“Thanks.”
As they walked through the door together, Jessica got a sudden rush of anxiety – her fight-or-flight response was kicking in, and for a brief moment she almost turned and ran b
ack to the cab. But the moment was fleeting. She’d made her choice to follow this rabbit hole wherever it was going, and she felt powerless to turn back from it now. Besides, her excitement far outweighed whatever reservations she was feeling. Something about Dominic felt slightly dangerous, but that only added to his sex appeal.
Lust for Danger: A Mafia Romance -- Book One: The Family [Erotic Mafia Romance Book] Page 7