“Mr. Ferrucci, you have been charged with one count of racketeering and one count of extortion. Do you understand these charges?”
Standing, Salvatore does the same next to me. “Yes, Your Honor, I do.” I don’t want to be charged with shit, but I understand what I’ve been charged with.
“Your Honor, if I may,” the federal prosecutor says, speaking loudly. The judge drops his chin slightly to give her the go ahead. “We are requesting that the defendant be remanded without bail until his arraignment.”
“Your Honor, my client has no criminal record. He would gladly hand over his passport until the arraignment, but he isn’t a flight risk. He’s a newlywed and wishes to go home to his bride.”
There is a moment of silence, and the judge lifts his head from his papers, looking up to me. “Is that true, Mr. Ferrucci? Are you a newlywed?”
Shifting my gaze to Salvatore, he nods his head once encouraging me to speak. Looking back at the judge, I give him a small smile. “Yes, Your Honor, my wife is right behind me, sir. We were married last Friday.”
The judge’s eyes shift from my face to Pippa behind me. He lifts his hand, motioning for her to stand and come forward. I can feel her walk up behind me, her presence is so welcome, and I wish that it wasn’t.
I wish that I wasn’t as drawn to her as I am, that I didn’t want her so bad all of the damn time, that I wasn’t falling for my wife.
“You’re married to Mr. Ferrucci?” the judge asks.
Pippa clears her throat, her sweet voice washes over me and I wonder how I would be able to survive being separated from her for thirty fucking years? I wouldn’t, and there’s no way I would ask her to wait for me that long. But how would I even give her permission to go elsewhere? I’d have any fucker who touched her taken out.
“Yes, Your Honor, I am.”
The judge shakes his head once as if he’s disappointed in her. “You’re too young to have your life ruined by a man like this. I suggest you file for divorce, cut your losses, and run. If you need help, there are plenty of people who will help you with the necessary paperwork.”
I hear a couple of people gasp behind us, but I ignore them. My eyes narrow into slits as I stare at this overreaching fucking judge. He’s done. He’s just signing his fucking death wish. I’m not going to stand for this shit.
A man does not tell another man’s wife, in front of him or ever, to file for a goddamn divorce. I bite my tongue, but swear to fuck it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
The judge’s head shifts to face the federal prosecutor. “I will grant your request for remand. Though, I do realize that it’s a bit unprecedented as Mr. Ferrucci doesn’t have a criminal record. I feel as though this time apart will give his wife the freedom she needs to save herself and keep her safe all at the same time.”
“Your Honor, that is highly prejudice. My client is happily married, his wife is happily married as well. What you’re inferring is gross defamation.”
The judge smirks before he shakes his head a couple of times. “Honestly, I don’t care what you think.”
Without another word, he stands, turns and walks away. The sheriff’s deputies immediately make their way toward me. Turning my head, I look back at Pippa. She’s just inches from me. My wrists are still bound in the cuffs so I can’t reach out for her.
Lowering my face, I touch my mouth to hers with a brush of my lips. “Massimo,” she exhales.
“Be good. I won’t be here long, dolcezza.”
“C’mon lover boy,” the bailiff grunts as he wraps his hand around my elbow.
“Salvatore, we meet soon?”
Salvatore dips his chin, and I nod my head once before I turn back to Pippa. “Be good,” I say, repeating my words.
“I will, Massimo,” she says, her voice soft and sweet.
Without another word, I follow behind the deputy and make my way back to goddamn jail.
PIPPA
“He was angry,” I whisper to Salvatore as he walks me into the house.
Salvatore grunts as he follows me inside. “Gavino and Arlo are on their way, I’ll wait here with you.”
“He was angry, wasn’t he?” I ask, pushing the subject.
There is a moment of silence, then Salvatore finally speaks. “He was, but in the end, I don’t think he was upset. He just didn’t want you to see him like that. He was more embarrassed than anything.”
“But I’m his wife,” I say.
Salvatore snorts. “You don’t know many Made Men, do you, cara?”
Licking my lips, I press them together and shake my head. It’s true. I knew my father, but otherwise, I’ve only ever known of Made Men. I’ve only ever seen them from afar or observed them. I haven’t been close with any of them, not like I am now.
“Seriously?” he asks.
“My father was Made, but died when I was young. I don’t think he was very high up on the totem pole, if you know what I mean.”
Salvatore nods his head, his eyes searching mine. “Massimo is lucky to have you, Pippa,” he rasps.
“Is he?” I breathe.
He nods his head, then jumps when there is a knock at the front door. I watch as he stands and practically runs over to the door. He yanks it open, Gavino and Arlo waltz in as though they live here, as if they were made to walk through that front door.
“Pippa,” Gavino murmurs, dipping his chin.
I give him a small smile, but I don’t say anything. I just want to know what the hell happens next. Sitting on the edge of the sofa, I watch them, waiting to see what they’re going to say. I know this meeting is for me, and I have no doubt that they’ll be laying some ground rules for the future.
“How are you doing?” Gavino asks, his voice low and concerned. I don’t know if he’s concerned for me personally, or trying to gauge my mental and loyalty status.
Smiling, I fold my hands in my lap to keep from fidgeting under his scrutinous gaze. “I’m good, Gavino. Scared, but I’m good.”
Gavino sits down in the corner of the sofa across from me. Salvatore is sitting in the chair next to me and Arlo is sitting in a chair across from him. I wait, silently, for them to speak, any of them.
“It’s okay to be scared, it’s understandable, but know that you are ours to protect when Massimo is unable to, Pippa. There will be two men on you twenty-four hours a day until this is done. One will always be stationed outside and one will be in your guest room here,” Gavino explains.
My eyes fly up from my lap to meet his. “Here? With me? A stranger?” I ask in a rushed panic.
Arlo clears his throat. “You’re safe, Pippa. It’s normal procedure any time there is a threat to protect the women. Massimo has had a man on you every time you’ve gone out by yourself in public. This will be no different, except he’ll be with you instead of just following you,” he explains.
I knew Massimo had someone on me, I just knew it. I’m not even mad, actually, I’m kind of flattered and glad that he did. Lenora, Nicola, and Luciana have guards and I was wondering if maybe Massimo just didn’t care as much about me as their men do them.
“Okay,” I breathe.
“I put in a call to Renzo, he’s between jobs and can protect you better than anyone else I know. He will be the one who lives with you,” Gavino explains. “Do you have any questions?”
I shake my head, chewing on the inside of my cheek.
“What is it, Pippa? Just ask,” he urges.
Focusing my eyes on his, I notice how tight he’s holding his body. Judging by the way he’s holding himself, he’s not confident of the outcome of this whole thing. He’s worried and that petrifies me.
“You’ll tell me if there’s anything I need to know about Massimo?” I ask, keeping my voice low. “I know he won’t tell me, but you will, won’t you?”
Gavino tilts his head to the side, his eyes searching mine. I think that he’s going to deny my request, but he doesn’t. Instead, he nods his head once. “I’ll tell you wha
t you need to know, Pippa.”
I hate that answer. It sucks ass. I don’t tell him that though, I can’t imagine what he would do to me if I did. Probably kill me himself.
A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. Arlo stands and walks over to the door. I watch as he pulls it open, a man walks into the room and my breath hitches at the sight of him, no it doesn’t just hitch, it freezes.
The man standing in front of me looks feral. He has long brown hair and a long thick brown beard. His golden eyes shift over to meet mine and I gasp. His eyes are so golden that they look animalistic.
“This is Renzo, he’ll be living here for a while,” Arlo announces.
Renzo drops a bag, the sound echoing off of the walls as he watches me. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes roaming over my face. His lips twitch into a small smirk and his eyes dance as he watches me. I’m still staring at him like an idiot, frozen in place.
“It’s nice to meet you, Pippa. I didn’t want this babysitting job at first, but I’m beginning to see the benefits,” he says, his gaze dropping to my chest before it lifts to meet my eyes.
“She’s married, Renzo, to a Made Man, to famiglia,” Gavino growls.
Renzo lets out a low chuckle and I swear I feel it vibrating in my body. I like Massimo a lot, he’s so sexy that I lose my head around him. Renzo is different. Renzo is dangerous and rugged, he’s like no man I’ve ever been around before. He’s nothing like a typical Made Man.
Instantly, I wonder if the other wives were right when they said that this new famiglia was nothing like the old. Renzo is definitely not what I expected when I was told that a man would be living here for my protection.
“I know she is. I ain’t dead though and I got eyes,” he says, then winks at me.
“Cara?” Salvatore calls out.
Twisting to look over at him, he’s smiling. “Excuse us for a few?”
Licking my lips, I nod. “I’ll just be upstairs in my bedroom,” I breathe.
Turning away from the men, I practically run upstairs. Walking into my bedroom, I look around and try to catch my breath. I’m alone. I’ll have a man here, but I’m alone. Taking my phone out of my dress pocket, I look for Rosana’s name in my contacts and open up the text icon.
I MISS YOU.
ROSY: AUNT IRENE SAYS I CAN’T SEE YOU ANYMORE.
WHY?
My heart slams against my chest at her message.
ROSY: BECAUSE SHE’S A MEAN BITCH.
I snort at her words. Then send her a scolding message telling her not to talk like that.
ROSY: I MISS YOU TOO. I WANT TO SNEAK AWAY. WILL YOU MEET ME?
WE SHOULDN’T.
ROSY: I KNOW. STILL WANT TO SEE YOU.
CAN YOU SPEND THE NIGHT WITH A FRIEND?
ROSY: WHAT ABOUT MASSIMO?
DON’T WORRY ABOUT HIM. I’LL EXPLAIN.
ROSY: SATURDAY. I’LL TEXT YOU.
A throat clears behind me. Spinning around, I am face to face with Renzo. His lips are curved up into a small smile.
“Just us now, girl,” he purrs.
“I don’t think there’s much food here for dinner. Massimo kept bringing dinner home, we didn’t make it to the grocery store,” I breathe.
Renzo nods his head once. “Pizza?” he asks. Turning my lips up, I shrug a shoulder. “It’s just us, Pippa. There’s no need to be scared. I may flirt, but I’m here to protect you and that’s what I’ll do, all I’ll do. I like Massimo, I would never betray him and I’ll never hurt you.”
My smile widens and I take a step toward him. When I’m close enough to touch him, he dips his chin down to look into my eyes. “Just to say, I’ll definitely look though. You’re a little young for me, but fuck, you’re gorgeous, girl.”
I gasp as he lets out a low rumble of a laugh. He lifts his arm, sliding it around my shoulder as he pulls me against his side. I thought I would feel something when he touched me, maybe butterflies, anything, but I don’t.
I feel absolutely nothing. I’m glad for that, he’s physically attractive, but I can’t imagine living with someone I felt anything for at all whatsoever, not when my husband is sitting in a jail cell.
Renzo and I make our way downstairs. We share a pizza and a bottle of wine. I drink a little too much and end up telling him my entire story, in gross detail. It’s the single most embarrassing night of my entire life.
Chapter Twenty-One
MASSIMO
It’s been a week since I’ve been locked up. The federal prosecutor sits across from me. She smirks as she tilts her head to the side, her eyes scrutinizing every part of my face. She licks her lips as she shifts her gaze over to Salvatore at my side.
I let out a grunt. Maybe this will go in my favor more than I initially realized. If she wants to fuck Sal, maybe she’ll give me a better deal? If she’s already fucking him, maybe I’ll get off completely.
“So, you’d like to take a deal?” she asks on a low breathy whisper.
Sal snorts. “My client isn’t saying shit. Your evidence for racketeering is worthless. It won’t stick, you and I know that without a doubt. Drop that altogether and we’ll talk.”
She pouts, then narrows her eyes as her gaze shifts to me. “My boss wants to try for RICO. There hasn’t been a case in years, he’s frothing at the mouth just thinking about putting someone from the Zanetti mafia away.”
Leaning back in my seat, I don’t show an ounce of fear. This bitch doesn’t have anything on me, not really. She has a bunch of easily debunked, circumstantial bullshit and not an ounce of hard evidence. Judge or jury, nobody will convict me, and she fucking knows it.
“What can you offer?” Sal asks.
He doesn’t have to accept anything right now, but I honestly don’t want to spend weeks waiting to go through a trial when I could get whatever time they want me to do, done and over with. Thirty years isn’t going to happen. She knows it as much as I do.
“Though my boss wants to nail Ferrucci’s balls to the wall with a racketeering charge, we aren’t dumb. We just want time at this point. He’s going to prison. It’s up to him for how long.”
“You always beat around the bush so goddamn much?” I ask, speaking for the first time since she walked into the room.
She lifts her chin, obviously not liking the way I’m talking to her. I don’t really give a fuck. The only person I want to talk to right now is my wife. Not this cunt. Pressing my lips closed, I wait for her to speak again.
“Let’s just cut the shit, what’s the offer?” Sal asks.
Her lips turn up into a slow smile. She inhales a deep breath, pushing her breasts out as she watches us. We’re at her mercy, forced to wait for her to give us some kind of fucking answer.
“Five years and a hundred thousand dollar fine.” She grins.
I shake my head. Fuck that, five years? She’s lost her goddamn mind. Sal turns to look at me, his eyes searching mine. I want to tell the bitch to fuck off, but I also know that I need her. She could take it off the table and then I’d have no choice but to go to court.
“How about a year and a hundred k?” Sal asks.
Her eyes sparkle, she was hoping for this, praying for it and it makes me wonder what the fuck she would want in return. Because she will want something, it’s obvious by the gleam in her eyes. I have a feeling I know what she wants and she’s going to be disappointed as fuck because I’m no goddamn snitch.
“You want that? I can do that. Mr. Ferrucci just has to lead me to a bigger fish,” she purrs.
Sal, to his credit, doesn’t laugh in her face and neither do I. Instead, Sal clears his throat. “There’s nothing to give you, not even a minnow,” he murmurs.
“That’s cute. You think I don’t know who he works for?” She shifts her gaze to me. “We all know exactly who you work for, Ferrucci.”
Tilting my head to the side, I lick my lips and shake my head once. “I have nothing to give you, not a single thing.”
This bitch can hook me up to a lie
detector test, because what I’m saying is the absolute truth. I have absolutely nothing to give her. Not a goddamn thing.
She lets out a sigh, then shakes her head once. “Then I can offer you five years. Your wife will be what, twenty-five by then? That’s a long time for a girl that young to be all alone, Mr. Ferrucci. Who will satisfy her? Keep her safe?”
Clenching my fists, I gnash my teeth together. I want to beat the absolute shit out of this fucking cunt. Absolutely fucking pummel the shit out of her smirking lips.
“Give us a moment, yeah?” Salvatore calmly asks.
I can sense him next to me, he’s not calm in the slightest. If he’s fucking this bitch, I have a feeling her cunt is going to be hurting tomorrow, because he’s going to take all of his frustration out on it.
“I’ll give you two hours. It’s off the table after that. I’ll be in touch.”
Without another word, she stands to her feet. I watch her ass as she walks away. It’s a nice ass, encased in a too-tight skirt, but she’s built nicely, so props to Sal if he’s giving it to her. At least she’s got a hot body.
“You wanna tell me if you’re smashing that?” I ask, turning to look at him after the door closes.
He chuckles. “I have, yeah.”
“Sleeping with the enemy,” I groan.
He laughs and stands as he makes his way over to her vacated seat across from me. He looks down, then lifts his gaze up to meet mine.
“This one is all her boss. Usually, I can sweet talk my way into her forgiving quite a few federal charges, and I have over the years. He wants someone to go down and he is making an example out of you. He has you on extortion, cugino.”
Becoming the Street Boss: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Page 16