Princes of the Lower East Side: A 1920s Mafia Thriller (A Scalisi Family Novel)

Home > Other > Princes of the Lower East Side: A 1920s Mafia Thriller (A Scalisi Family Novel) > Page 25
Princes of the Lower East Side: A 1920s Mafia Thriller (A Scalisi Family Novel) Page 25

by Meredith Allison


  “And what is it that you want, Mr. Morelli?”

  “You to call me Jake, for starters.” His breath brushed her lips. “And I think I’ve made it pretty clear what I want.”

  “To kill me?”

  He put his mouth beside her ear and chuckled. The sound made her shiver. “You’re the most beautiful dame I ever seen. Why would I want to kill you?”

  She turned her head and their lips nearly touched. “Because I made you look like an ass.”

  His jaw tensed. “You got a smart mouth for a broad.”

  “And what are you gonna do with it?”

  He held her gaze for a long, heated moment, then deliberately tilted his head. An instant later, his mouth was on hers. His lips were soft and rough at the same time, and tasted of tobacco laced with whiskey. He reached up to cup her jaws in his hands in a grip that was as rough as his lips, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, if she hadn’t despised him, she might have felt herself getting swept away on a thrilling rush of passion.

  His mouth left hers abruptly when he stumbled back several feet, roaring in pain and clutching his neck just beneath his jaw where she’d stabbed him with the little sewing pin from the side of her dress.

  “What the fuck?” he bellowed, his chest heaving with rage. He pulled his hand away, and she was mildly fascinated by the thin stream of blood rolling down his neck. The wound was far from fatal, but it produced more blood than she’d expected. “You fucking stabbed me!”

  “Oh, it was just a little pin,” she said, flicking it away. “Anyway, I warned you not to touch me.”

  “You crazy bitch,” he spat, his tone a mixture of wonder and fury. He clenched his fists, blood still trailing down his neck, as he stepped toward her. He backed her into the door again, the front of his body pressed to hers. “I was gonna take it easy on you, but now I see you’re a bitch who needs the man in charge to put you in your place.”

  She gazed up at him impassively. “Oh? Tell me. Who’s in charge, then? And what’s my place?”

  He opened his mouth to answer, but a metallic click stopped him. He froze as a revolver’s snub nose suddenly pressed to his temple.

  Behind him, Paolo bared his teeth as he shoved the gun against Jake’s head so hard, the other man’s neck bent from the force of it.

  “Yeah, all right, now,” Jake said in a very different tone than what he’d just used with Mia, lifting his hands into the air. “Take it easy.”

  Paolo grunted.

  “Mr. Scarpa would like you to back up,” Mia said. “You’re making him nervous. And when he gets nervous, his hands get real shaky.”

  Jake backed up slowly. “Mia, baby, come on.”

  “Baby? What happened to ‘crazy bitch’?” she said, cocking her head.

  “I was just—”

  “Kidding around?” She stepped toward him. “Me, too. So why aren’t you laughing?”

  “You got a fucking loaded gun to my head!”

  “And you had someone point one at me last night,” she said in a deadly quiet voice. “And instead of hitting me, you hit one of my employees. And he’s dead now.”

  “How many times I gotta tell you, it wasn’t me?”

  “About as many times as I gotta tell you to keep your filthy hands off me,” she replied. “And I don’t think you’ve quite got the message yet.”

  “I got the message,” he muttered.

  “Do you? Maybe I should have Paolo blow your brains all over this hallway to be sure.”

  With a little answering growl, Paolo shoved the gun even harder against Jake’s skull.

  “Jesus Christ, Mia—”

  She touched Paolo’s arm, and he immediately stepped away from Jake. He did not lower the gun. She had no intention of actually killing him. But it was a tactic she’d seen Nick resort to on occasion to drive home the point that he was capable of it, and it almost always did the trick.

  One foot in, one foot out.

  The truth Charlie had pointed out to her, the one she was so desperately trying to run from, seemed to reach out and grab her by the soul.

  Jake straightened with the speed of a snail, his cautious stare locked on Paolo, who glowered at him from Mia’s side. He shifted his gaze to Mia, his nostrils flaring as he sucked in deep lungfuls of air like he’d run a mile.

  “You look a bit unwell. Perhaps you should go home and get some rest.” Mia picked up her suitcase and started past him, patting him on the chest as she went. “Partner.”

  “Yeah,” she heard behind her. “Thank you.”

  Outside, Joey waited by the car. “Miss S. Your sister-in-law’s all tucked in. I left Bobby outside her door. I believe she’s resting comfortably.”

  Mia sighed inwardly. Something else, and more immediate, she didn’t feel like facing. “Good. I’ll be home to look after her.”

  Joey nodded and opened the back door for her.

  “Mia,” a voice called as she was climbing inside.

  She looked over her shoulder as Charlie strode toward her and stepped back onto the sidewalk. “Hi.”

  “I was lookin’ for you,” he said. “Hard to get through that mob in there. Surprised you didn’t hang around.”

  She shrugged. “I’m ready to call it a night. Besides, I should go pick up Emilia.”

  “I was going to ask if you’d let me make up our date to you.” He gave her a wry smirk and held up his hands, palms facing her. “No more surprises. I promise.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but she looked up at him. His handsome face was open and earnest. His bowtie hung undone around his neck, and his insistent, errant curly forelock hung in the middle of his forehead, giving him the boyish quality she’d always found endearing.

  He and Jake were both, she admitted, exciting men in their own ways. And in an odd way, she appreciated Jake’s gusto for going after what he wanted, but there was no denying she could never trust him, and despite his pleas to the opposite, she was sure he’d had something to do with Fred’s murder—that had her as the intended target.

  On the other hand, Charlie kept the dangerous edge he used when dealing with everyone else well away from her. He was a man she could rely on, and she knew instinctively she could trust him. He didn’t want anything from her…except her.

  “I guess Em will be okay with Joe and Connie until tomorrow,” Mia said. “They were expecting to keep her overnight, anyway.”

  One side of Charlie’s lush mouth curled up. He said nothing, waiting for her.

  “We could have a late supper in my room,” she said. “We’d have to be quiet so we don’t wake Gloria.”

  “As a mouse.” His dark gaze leveled on her, and Mia suddenly had the urge to shiver deeply. He flicked his head down the street, where his car waited. “Want to ride with me?”

  “I just need to let Paolo know.” She turned and leaned into the car, grateful for the darkness in the cab to hide her hot face. “Mr. Lazzari is going to see me home. We’re going to have dinner.”

  Joey didn’t even flinch. “Sure thing, Miss S.”

  Paolo narrowed his eyes at her, but nodded once. She knew he would respect her privacy.

  She shut the door and smiled at Charlie. “Ready when you are.”

  He took her arm and looped it through his as they strolled down to where his car waited. He opened the door for her, then climbed in after. A comfortable silence settled between them during the drive to her hotel. The driver didn’t even bother with small talk. Meanwhile, Charlie’s hand rested atop hers in the middle of the back seat, his thumb stroking lazy circles on the back of her hand and up her forearm. Tingles burst over her skin with every swipe and shot through her body.

  When they arrived at the Murray Hill Hotel, he helped her out of the car and pulled her close as they walked through the lobby. The arm he snugged around her waist felt as if it had always been meant to be there. She said a few quiet words to the elevator attendant when they reached her floor, to have him pass along that she wanted tw
o steaks and wine sent up to her room.

  Inside her room, she stepped out of her shoes with a soft groan of appreciation. She padded over the plush carpeting to enter Gloria and Raquel’s suite through their adjoining door, then checked on both women, who were fast asleep in their bedrooms. Her sister-in-law’s breathing was deep and even, and she didn’t stir when Mia placed a hand on her forehead.

  She shut the door behind her as noiselessly as possible and reentered her suite. “I’m going to freshen up before the food gets here,” she said to Charlie. “When the steaks arrive, just put them on the table there.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He pulled off his tuxedo jacket, his eyes locked on her in a way that heated her down to the bottom of her belly.

  She scurried into the bathroom and drew a hot bath. She wouldn’t indulge in a long soak, but one long enough to get the grime of the night and the memory of Jake’s rough, burning mouth out of her mind.

  I suppose I ought to tell Charlie about that, she thought, stripping naked and sliding into the tub with a sigh.

  After a too-quick bath, she reluctantly toweled off. A clean nightie and her robe hung on the hook on the door and nothing else. The nightie’s silky material slid over her skin like a lover’s kiss.

  She swiped her hand across the fogged mirror over the sink. She’d washed her face in the tub, and the smoky eye makeup, rouged cheeks, and stained red lips were gone. The Saturday Night Special had retired for the night, and now she was just…Mia.

  A soft knock from the door made her turn. “Food’s here.”

  She slid on her robe and stepped out into the living room. Charlie set dishes on the small table by the window. He glanced at her as she walked over, his gaze lingering on her attire. She couldn’t remember having worn so little around him before, but it felt perfectly natural now. At any rate, he didn’t comment on it, though a little appreciation flicked through his eyes.

  They cut into their steaks, but after a few bites, Mia pushed her plate away and settled back in her chair with her wine.

  Charlie set down his fork and knife and wiped his mouth on a linen napkin. “Still thinking about Glo?”

  “The whole evening. It was going so well…for a while. I feel terrible about Raquel.”

  “She’ll understand. She seems like a sweet girl.” His gaze dropped to her throat. “What’d you do with that necklace?”

  “It’s in my jewelry box.” She held up her wrist, where the bracelet he’d given her dangled. “This stays on.”

  He smiled into his wineglass.

  “After the show, I ran into Jake.”

  The smile vanished. “The fuck did he want?”

  She smirked. “To steal a few moments alone, I guess. I accused him of trying to kill me. He denied it. Then he kissed me.”

  Charlie’s jaw clenched. “I see.”

  “Then,” Mia went on, “I stabbed him in the neck with a pin from my dress.”

  One of his dark brows lifted. “You…stabbed him? With a pin?”

  “Well, Paolo showed up in time. He put a gun to his head.”

  “Good. Arrogant prick deserved it.”

  She swirled the dark red liquid in her glass. “Maybe he really didn’t try to have me killed.”

  “If not him, then who?”

  “That’s what I can’t figure.” She set her glass down and rose from her chair, then went to the big window that overlooked the city. “I can’t seem to figure much these days.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I came back here and thought I’d just be Hyman’s little porcelain doll. I’d let him make me a star here in New York, I’d make good money, take care of Glo and Em, and maybe one day bring Nick’s remains back here, so he can lay beside our parents. But it seems like at every turn, something throws me off course.”

  Charlie joined her at the window. “Some of us ain’t helping with that, I’m sure. I suppose in a way, we forced you to get back into the liquor business.”

  “You didn’t force me,” she said. “It—it was the nudge I needed. To step up. I never wanted to be a bootlegger, but…it’s a good business. And it’s my family business. And I don’t trust everyone around me. I can’t.”

  “You can trust me.” Their gazes locked in the reflection of the window. “I’ve done some things that hurt you, but I had my reasons. Joining with Masseria.”

  “I know.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You do?”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said at John’s,” she said. “You know. One foot in, one foot out.”

  “And?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “It’s something I’m still struggling with, but I understand it. And I know why you did what you did. I guess…to be made always meant a death sentence to me. Look at Nick.”

  “It doesn’t have to be the same way for me.” Charlie paused. “Or for you.”

  “Me?”

  It was his turn to shrug. “Your brother was a made man. You’re not so different from other Mafia chiefs, you know. You’ve made your bones. If you were a man, you’d have a scar, too. You’re head of the Scalisi family, Mia.”

  “There isn’t a Scalisi family.”

  “Bullshit.” Charlie pulled her into his arms, her back to his chest. “You got Paolo. Bobby and Joey. I know they pledged their loyalty to you.”

  “They’re good men. They did it for Nick.”

  Charlie sighed. “They did, but give them some credit. They’re not just blindly loyal machines. If you weren’t up to snuff or worth fighting for, trust me, there ain’t enough money in the world to buy their loyalty. Just own up to the fact that you’re stepping into your brother’s shoes. The sooner you do that, the better off you’ll be.”

  She tilted her head back against his shoulder. “How do you figure?”

  “Two feet in.”

  “I remember a time when you wanted me nowhere near all this.”

  Charlie was quiet for a long time. “A big part of me still doesn’t. But you changed that when you killed three men for Nick. I thought after Kiddo you’d get scared and stop. But you just kept charging ahead. And that day when you came home, and I looked up and saw you standing in Hyman’s doorway… I saw you, the changes in you.”

  “I did gain a little weight, I suppose.”

  “You look even more beautiful than before you left. But that’s not what I mean.” He tipped her face up with a finger beneath her chin. His eyes were serious and a little troubled. “It was like I could see inside you. The way you carry yourself now. It’s hard to describe, but I took one look at you and I knew.”

  “What did you know?”

  “That everything you did after Nick died was just the beginning.”

  She turned her head away from him. “You make me sound like some kind of crazy, rampage killer.”

  “No. I mean, if you’re the kind of person who believes in destiny, it became clear to me in that moment that you’d stepped up and claimed yours.”

  Mia tightened her jaw. “I’m just trying to protect my family.”

  “It’s okay to want money and power, too. Why the hell do you think any of us do the things we do?”

  “It’s not what I want.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Infuriated, she whirled in his arms, but he held up a finger before she could unleash.

  “The night we unloaded. When you and Morrie were getting into it. You told him—told us all—what we could do with those cut batches. I saw what you did.”

  She wrinkled her brow. “What did I do?”

  Charlie tilted his head, lifting one eyebrow slightly. “One look at Paolo. One tiny little flick of your head, and he had a gun pulled on Morrie’s men. That’s power. And you ordered it like you were signaling a waiter to bring you another cocktail.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic,” she muttered, looking away from his gaze. The intensity in it was making her uncomfortable.

  “Or how about when we all met with Morelli at Uncle Joe’s grocery
? He was flinging insults that probably would’ve gotten him killed in any other situation. But you kept control of the situation.”

  “I’m not sure who was in control that night.”

  “Morelli can be an idiot sometimes, but he ain’t stupid. If he didn’t understand the power you have, he would’ve brushed you aside like a fly.”

  “He did likely try to have me killed.”

  Charlie ran a finger down her cheek. “He’ll never succeed.”

  “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

  “I am.”

  “I don’t need more bodyguards,” Mia said.

  “What do you need?”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “Maybe I don’t need anyone at all.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “Maybe you don’t know me the way you thought you did.” She made to step around him, but he caught her by the shoulders to stop her, then cupped her face in his hands.

  “I know you,” he murmured. “I see you, right down to your core. I see your light. I feel your heat. I felt it the very first time I ever saw you. Like my heart just stopped in my chest.”

  She thought back to that night, at Penny’s on the boardwalk in Atlantic City, when she’d begged Nick to bring her to the party he was going to that night. When he’d relented and brought her, she’d strolled in like she owned the place and turned every head she passed. Then, the crowd had parted, and she’d spotted a young, dark-haired man, danger radiating off him like an aura. He’d puffed a cigar, laughing with some pals, dark eyes scanning every single face. And then they’d landed on her, and it had felt like her heart just stopped, too.

  “I’m so very different from that girl.”

  “In some ways. In others, you’re the same you’ve always been.” A furrow formed between his eyebrows. “Either way—I love you, Mia. All of you.”

  And he kissed her.

  Her body went liquid at the first touch of his lips. It was so different than Jake’s burning, forceful kiss. Charlie was gentle but sure, assertive but yielding, and oh, so very skilled.

 

‹ Prev