RENO’S GIFT
MOB BOSS 7
By
MALLORY MONROE
Copyright©2013 Mallory Monroe
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This novel is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are completely accidental. The specific mention of known places or venues are not meant to be exact replicas of those places, but are purposely embellished or imagined for the story’s sake.
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MORE INTERRACIAL ROMANCE
FROM BESTSELLING AUTHOR
MALLORY MONROE:
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SERIES IN ORDER:
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THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND 2:
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DUTCH AND GINA:
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DUTCH AND GINA:
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DUTCH AND GINA:
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DUTCH AND GINA:
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THE MOB BOSS SERIES
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MOB BOSS 2:
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MOB BOSS 3:
LOVE AND RETRIBUTION
MOB BOSS 4:
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A MOB BOSS CHRISTMAS:
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(Mob Boss 5)
MOB BOSS 6:
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ADDITIONAL BESTSELLING
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PROLOGUE
Ten Years Earlier
Reno Gabrini wasted no time. As soon as Adolpho Lucci sat down, he handed him the check. The Dolph, as Adolpho was often called, smiled grandly, and gladly accepted the payment.
“Thank-you, Reno, thank-you,” the jowly older man said. “I knew you’d come through for me.”
“You’re the one who came through for me,” Reno assured him. “When I needed capital to purchase this place, you were there for me, Dolph. I’ll never forget that.”
“But to pay me back so quickly, and with more than we agreed to. You’re a good man, Reno.”
They were in Reno’s office inside the PaLargio Hotel and Casino on the Vegas Strip, and the Dolph and his only son, Bruno Lucci, were seated in chairs in front of the massive desk. The office used to belong to Tony Tufarna before his poor management plunged the place into receivership. Reno, thanks to wise guys like the Dolph backing him, was able to outbid the competition and take over controlling interest. One by one, beginning with the Dolph, he was paying them back.
But he could tell the Dolph had other things on his mind. Dolph folded the check slowly, as if he was trying to find the words. And the fact that he brought his asshole son Bruno along made Reno certain that something was up. It made Reno certain that paying back his debt wasn’t going to be as easy as handing over a check.
So Reno watched the Dolph intensely and waited. He didn’t say a word, he just waited. He never thought of himself as smart in the book sense of the word, but he considered himself a genius at reading Dons. Especially since his own old man, Paulo Gabrini, was an East Coast Mafia boss himself. That was why Reno kept quiet. He remained leaned back, allowed silence to fill the air, and waited for Adolpho Lucci to make his next move.
The Dolph, with his soft, eternally hoarse Italian voice, eventually got to the point. “I always knew you were good for the money, Reno. That’s why I was more than happy to do that favor for you. Tony Tufarna is a loser who can’t manage a walk across the street, let alone a real high class establishment like the PaLargio. His mama was probably turning in her grave when her beloved business fell into that fool’s hands. But as soon as I found out you was going to take over, I knew it would be in good hands then. Miss E, God bless her, could rest in peace when you took over, Reno.”
Reno still remained silent. The Dolph, although a boss, never had a wide reach. Not because he didn’t want more power, but because his only son was a hotheaded idiot who shot first and aimed later. Whenever Dolph needed something done, his son was the last person he could depend on to get it done.
“I was proud to do that favor for you, Reno,” the Dolph continued, as Reno knew he would. “It was my honor to do a favor for a man like you. I consider you family. I consider you to be my flesh and blood. That’s how I feel about you. That’s how much I love and respect you.” Then he paused. “But now, Reno,” he said, “I’m going to have to ask you, family to family, to do a favor for me.”
Reno would have laughed if he didn’t understand the stakes. This wasn’t some priest sitting up here asking him for a favor. This was a mob boss. And mob bosses never wanted you to do anything legit on their behalf. Never.
“What favor?” Reno asked him.
Bruno smiled. “Why are you so defensive? Will you relax for two minutes? You look like I’m gonna ask you to murder somebody or something. Relax.”
Reno stared at him intensely. “What’s the favor?” he asked again.
Dolph exhaled. He wasn’t a man who asked for help lightly, and Reno wasn’t making it any easier. “I need you to alibi my son,” he said. “Bruno, foolish boy that he is, needs an alibi. And all because of some girl, can you believe it? Some girl! Just say he was here at the PaLargio with you. That’s all I need. It’s nothing.”
Reno looked at Bruno Lucci. He hated to see a grown man hiding behind his old man’s coattails. There was no way in hell Reno would have his own father sitting in somebody’s office making any pleas for him. No way. But Bruno seemed to have no problem with it whatsoever. That was why Reno directed his question, not to the Dolph, but to the son. “Who’s the girl, Brew?” Reno asked him.
But the Dolph was quick with the answers. “Just a girl,” he answered for his son. “A nobody. Got herself a big mouth. Went running to the cops claimi
ng Brew roughed her up. You know how girls can be, Reno. You slap’em around a little, to keep’em in line, and they wanna run to the cops nowadays. They sling their slutty bodies all over you, every chance they get, then they wanna cry rape.”
And that was it. A beating my ass, Reno thought. It was rape. That was what this was all about. Bruno had gone too far and raped some girl. Now he had his old man fighting his battle. Now he had his old man begging to get him out of this jam. He was a big man when he was raping that girl, now he was some scared little boy, hiding behind Daddy. What a scumbag.
“Who’s the girl, Brew?” Reno asked Bruno again.
“She’s a nobody like Pop said,” Bruno responded with a frown. “Whatta you asking me for?”
The Dolph slapped his son upside his head. “Because it’s your ass he’s trying to help!” he yelled. “Now shut the fuck up!” He looked at Reno. “Don’t mind this idiot. That mouth. That’s why he’s in the shithole he’s in today. Because of that mouth. But just an alibi, Reno. That’s all we need. Can you do that for me, Ree?”
But Reno was unmoved. “No,” he said without hesitation. “No way. I wouldn’t alibi that cocksucker even if my own life depended on it.”
Bruno jumped from his seat, ready to fight, but his old man slammed him back down. “Are you out of your mind?” the Dolph asked his son. “That’s Reno Gabrini you’re challenging! He’ll squash you like a cockroach, what’s wrong with you?”
Reno stood to his feet. Enough of this. He felt for the Dolph, he really did, but he wasn’t about to allow the Dolph or anybody else to pull him into any defense of Brew. He paid his debt. He paid Dolph back in spades. His obligation was done, as far as Reno was concerned. “I have a meeting to attend, gentlemen,” he said as he stood. “And I need to get to it.”
But the Dolph stood up with desperation in his voice. “Reno, please,” he said.
Bruno was astounded. “Don’t beg him, Pop!” he yelled and grabbed at his father.
But the Dolph snatched away from his son. “He’s my only son, Reno. He’s in trouble. He’s never been in this kind of trouble before. He’s looking at twenty years in prison if that girl goes through with this.”
Adolpho’s reaction gave Reno pause. To see him begging on behalf of his son like that was tough. He thought of his own father, and how he would feel if his old man was reduced to this. In a way, it broke Reno’s heart.
But the Dolph kept begging. “You’re not dirt like we are,” he said. “Your hands are clean. You’re a respected businessman. You’re legit. Everybody looks up to you. If you can just help us.”
“I hear what you’re saying, Dolph, but I can’t do it. There’s no way in hell I’m going to the cops to alibi Bruno. I can’t do that.”
“But Reno---”
“I’m not going to do that, Dolph. Seriously.”
“Then go to the girl,” Dolph said with even more desperation in his voice.
Even Bruno looked at his father. “What are you talking?” he asked him.
“Go to the girl, Reno,” the Dolph said, ignoring his son. “We can’t do it. If we’re seen as harassing her in any way, or doing anything to her, they already told us they would take it out on my son. They’d give him even more years in prison. But you, Reno, you can help us. You can go to her and talk to her. Tell her I’ll pay her if she drop the charges and leave town. Tell her to recant. Here,” the Dolph said as he attempted to hand that check back to Reno. “You can give this entire check to her. She’s a waitress, she’ll accept it. It’s more money than she’s ever likely to see in her entire life. Please, Reno. This is my only boy. I need him. He’s all I’ve got. It’ll kill his momma if they toss him into prison for all those years. Please.”
Reno was always amazed at how loving mobsters were toward their own families. They didn’t give a shit about anybody else’s, but they loved and cherished their own.
Reno grew up in a family just like the Dolph’s.
Reno felt trapped by that very fact.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he finally said with a reluctant nod of the head.
And although Reno agreed to only talk to the girl, nothing more than that, the Dolph rejoiced anyway. Because it was a legendary truth in Vegas. Reno Gabrini’s word was like money in the bank.
“Here’s your Big Boyzie burger,” the waitress said as she sat the plate of food in front of Reno, “with our very own Boy-licious fries.”
“Thanks, Myra,” Reno said as he eyed the food.
They were in Boyzie’s, a sleazy strip joint in Vegas, and the pretty blonde waitress just stood there. Because he said her name. How would he know her name? Boyzie was cheap. He didn’t even give them nametags for their uniforms.
Reno looked at her. “You are Myra Rause, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but, how did you know? I don’t know you.”
Reno extended his hand. “Reno Gabrini,” he said as she shook his hand. “Now you know me.”
“Reno Gabrini?” she asked. “Aren’t you the fella that owns the PaLargio?”
“See,” Reno said with an alluring smile. “You do know me.”
“But how did you know my---”
“We need to talk, Myra,” Reno said as he took a bite into his burger. He was hungry as hell. “When does your shift end?”
Myra stared at the handsome businessman. She instinctively knew it was about Bruno Lucci. Not only because the guy was Italian, but also because there would be nothing else for a man like him to want to talk to a girl like her about. “Not for another three hours,” she said.
“Can you get somebody to cover for you? All I need is ten minutes of your time.”
“What do you wanna talk about?”
“You know what it’s about,” Reno said, taking another bite. Then he looked his startling blue eyes up at her. “Get somebody to cover for you.”
Myra stared at him. She always heard that Reno Gabrini was a mob-connected man of ethics and integrity who didn’t compromise his principles. It made no sense to her then, and it especially made no sense to her now. Because if he was so ethical, she wondered, why would he be in league with a lowlife like Bruno Lucci? Why would a man like him want to help out a creep like that?
But she was too intrigued to not at least hear what he had to say. She wasn’t leaving the premises with him, but she would hear what he had to say.
She looked around. It was crowded in Boyzie’s and everybody appeared busy. The strippers hadn’t come on stage yet, so every waitress had her hands full.
Until she saw Trina Hathaway, approaching her with an empty tray in her hand. Myra couldn’t stand that particular waitress, but she would have to do.
“I need your help, Tree,” she said as Trina came nearer.
Trina continued to make her way toward Myra, staring at her.
“Can you cover for me?”
“It’s not your break yet.”
Myra wanted to roll her eyes. “I know, Tree. That’s why I need you to cover my tables. I need to talk to him.” Myra nodded toward Reno. “It’ll only take ten minutes.”
Trina looked at Myra, who was always up to something, and then she looked at the man seated at the table. Chestnut brown hair, big blue eyes. Of course he would be drop dead gorgeous. Myra didn’t mess with them unless they were damn near the prettiest person in the room. But ten minutes? With that guy? Trina knew, if she agreed, she’d be handling My’s station for more like thirty-forty minutes. Unlike Trina, Myra was one of those silly-ass, dreamy-eyed waitresses who actually believed she was going to find herself a husband in a strip joint like Boyzie’s.
“Ten minutes,” Trina said as if she was warning Myra that it had better not be longer than that, and then she continued walking away.
“Come with me,” Myra said to Reno.
Reno wiped his mouth, dropped his napkin on the table, and followed her. As he walked, he glanced back at the cute black waitress Myra called Tree. “Who’s your friend?” he asked as they headed for th
e back.
“My friend?” Myra asked as if she was offended. “That nigger?”
Reno shook his head as he continued to follow her. Leave it to Bruno Lucci, he thought, to find a racist yahoo like her attractive.
But even a racist yahoo didn’t deserve to be brutalized.
They were in one of the lap dance/private session rooms inside Boyzie’s. And although it reeked to high heavens to Reno, and he personally wouldn’t be caught dead in a hellhole like this, that wasn’t what this was about. He was doing the Dolph a favor. Nothing more, nothing less. He had asked Reno to talk to the girl, and Reno was talking to the girl.
He asked her what happened. He certainly wasn’t going to take Bruno’s word for it. And she gladly told him her side of the tale.
When she finished, Reno exhaled. “So what you’re saying is that you went over to his house, it was late, and you guys started making out.”
“We were kissing, that’s all,” she said.
“And then he wanted more, or so you claim. You said no, he couldn’t have more, and then he raped you?”
“Why you got to say it like that? You make it sound like it’s a lie. But it’s not. It’s the truth!”
“Yeah, right.”
“It is the truth!”
“Who do you think you’re talking to? You think I’m some fucking novice? I’ve been around broads like you all my life. You go to the guy’s house, it’s two o clock in the morning or whatever the fucking time it was, and you figure all he wants to do is kiss you?”
“But you make it sound as if. . . I’m not a whore, Mr. Gabrini.”
Reno's Gift (Mob Boss Series) Page 1