Chapter 17
Tristano
Me and Capri are fake mad at each other. There’s a glow about her since we almost fucked. Yeah, I may have left her tied to the bed with my cum drying over her belly for about thirty minutes, but she’s getting over it.
Now back to business.
My father warned me things are heating up, and now that my crew is spooked about hearsay on the street, I’m calling a meeting.
I throw my burner phone on the dining room table, where Capri sits freshly showered eating a bowl of oatmeal. She looks like a fucking snack with her hair all scraggly and wet. Actually, when does she not?
A very hungry part of me wants to whip my cock right out of my pants and try to convince her again what she’s missing. Love when the broad blushes every time her eyes land on it.
“Can I help you?” She gives me attitude, but I can see that smirk she’s hiding.
“Snaps will be here in a few minutes, so why don’t you get your ass back upstairs.”
She huffs. “Ashamed of your wife?”
“Wives let their husbands fuck them,” I growl.
“Is that all I am to you? A hole to stick your penis in?” She blushes as she says the words, and I catch it.
“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” I knock on the table, pointing to my eyes. “’Less you want to go for round two of this foreplay bullshit.”
“Oh, you didn’t enjoy yourself?”
I grunt. “How long’s this going to take?”
She shrugs one shoulder, and I simultaneously want to kiss her and shove my cock in her mouth. As a matter of fact, I feel a twinge down there already. Not sure if it’s the banter, her looks, or what, but I’m crazy about her.
Movement in the nine cameras LED display draws my attention. “He’s here.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” She picks up her bowl and starts for the stairs. But before she gets past me, I grab her arm.
We hold each other’s eyes. Hers pierce me like fucking arrows.
I lean in and give her a kiss.
“Today didn’t turn out so bad,” I say.
She’s so taken aback her jabbering mouth finally shuts. There’re those reddening cheeks again.
As she heads for the stairs, something comes over me. I figure she’s going to be around for a while given the circumstances, so… might as well give her the choice.
“You can stay if you want.”
She turns around. “Really?”
“If you’re curious, I suppose it’s fine. Just go do your makeup and hair something similar to last night. And your name is fucking Misty, got it?”
She smiles wide. “See you in a bit.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
I head for the door and open it to find a familiar lanky, slightly hunched man with a disheveled polo.
“Snaps.”
He offers me his cheek, giving me a waft of his aftershave. “Boss. How are you?” He slaps my shoulder twice while strutting inside. “Could’ve slept sixteen more hours, y’know. Was doing the—um—the uh—books this morning for GFE Plus.”
That’s my escort business I had him take charge of last night. Girlfriend Experience is the term we hustlers use to pretend like we’re kosher.
I grab the back of his neck lovingly – ’cause he is like a little fucked up brother to me – then nudge him toward the couch. “Not my priority right now,” I say, taking a seat on the other side of the L-shaped sectional.
It’s been years, but this man across from me proved his loyalty when he took a bullet that saved my life.
Fucking cartel. Honestly, I wouldn’t be sitting here if he hadn’t dove and tackled me to the floor in that dark cargo ship.
Him nearly bleeding out in my arms still haunts me. But we made it through.
“Right, right. The merchandizing incident.” He scratches the back of his head, yawning.
“Is it handled?”
“Told you this morning, Trino. I got it. Chased that prick down and recovered all the uh—the jewelry, our girl Phira was wearing. Made sure Santo ran ’em down.”
“ Pretty Eyes ? You sent Pretty Eyes after him?” I can’t contain my smile. It’s a good move, honestly. The kid wants to prove himself as an up-and-comer. Why not send him on an errand a little higher than his paygrade?
“He did good, boss. Really. May have caught a black eye, ironically, but came back with all the, hm—all the goods.”
I nod. “Good to hear it. We talking a one-off issue, or were we targeted?”
“You’re not going to like this part.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “The prick was Mexicano. I think the cartel sent him as a message since they’re trying to rival us in this business. Santo beat it out of him. Jerry Undercut Gomez.”
He’s right. I don’t like that. It took a lot of negotiating to keep them off my back for the last few years. To think they’re trying to brazenly test the waters at a time like this? Shit .
“But don’t worry. You say the word, I – I’ll handle it.”
He wants to step up. That’s good because I want to step up too, and I need an aggressive crew to climb right behind me.
“Yeah, handle it. Now that we caught him, he’ll show up to Gomez empty-handed, and he’ll know we’re onto him. Keep that in mind when you plot a next move. Keep the attack low-level so he and I can retain the bullshit level of plausible deniability. We don’t need a fucking all-out war right now.”
“Yeah, about that, boss,” he stammers. “Worried about the word on the street.”
“Wait for Bruno and Mikey Tools before we start down that path.”
He pinches his nose. “Those two beefcakes are sleeping with their thumbs up their asses.”
I cackle at the image.
“It’s barely the afternoon.” He spreads his arms. “It’s like you forget we run night businesses with the owls. Not everyone can function on an hour’s sleep like you. Motherfuck. What do you—um, hm – what, do you sleep every time you blink?”
Snaps’ rants are comical. He’s a good guy to have around. Little dim with the way he stumbles halfway through his sentences, but otherwise, he’s all fucking there.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Speak of the devil.” I nod toward the security screen stationed in the top corner of the room showing my two top guys waving their hands at each other by the front door.
“I’ll get it.” Snaps gets up. “Good thing I didn’t place a bet ’bout the thumb in the ass thing, huh?”
“Eyyy.” Bruno walks in with his arms open. “My little string bean.”
“Yeah, hello to you too, my big meatball.” Snaps hugs him back.
“Watch your mouth, kid.” Mikey Tools points his finger in Snaps’ face, both platinum rings shining. “I don’t want to hear no comments about my growing belly. Too early in the day for that.”
“How about that – umm – how ’bout that patchy beard then. Still can’t grow there, huh?” Snaps starts cracking up, then pretends to be scared when Mikey puts him in a headlock.
“It’s a scar, you dumb fuck.” Mikey cackles. “Never going to grow hair there, just like you’re never gonna get any on your sack.”
Bruno waddles up to me and offers his cheek, then sits next to me. “Morning, Knots.”
“Belly.” I nod at him. You’d think he got the first part of his street name from overeating or something, but actually, it’s because he loves to raspberry strippers.
You know, when you blow on someone’s stomach to make that stupid farting noise.
Thought only parents did that to kids, but I guess everyone has their kink, right? Bruno fuckin’ Belly Stunad.
He snaps for the other two buffoons to come take their seats. “Ey! C’mon . You can wrestle in your bunkbeds later, boys.”
Mikey tosses Snaps onto the couch, and takes his seat farthest from me.
His face is red from manhandling the guy.
He may be a little out of shape, but don’t let him fool you – the prick is dangerous.
He ran six warehouses that supplied to Home Depot back in the day, before they bought him out.
He kicked up commissions to all the bosses involved and could’ve sat home pretty for the rest of his days as an advisor to the family.
But that doesn’t suit him. He likes boots on the ground.
“So, uh, we know why we’re all here, boss.” Snaps dips his head a bit. “The heats gettin’ hot. Is the Glove okay?”
“Pop’s fine,” I growl, getting annoyed thinking about his ailing health.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
All eyes turn up to my gorgeous faux-wife descending the stairs. The new skimpy outfit I had delivered makes me catch the drool before it leaves my mouth. A white crop top, short-shorts, and clear heels. Marone.
“Yo, it’s Misty! C’mere, sweetheart. We thought you were the runaway bride!” Bruno gets up to greet her.
“Damn, boss.” Snaps eyes widen. “Dime piece.”
“Not your usual. Thought you liked the manmade ones.” Mikey hoots under his breath.
“Thank you, Snaps. Mikey, shut the fuck up,” I say.
Capri walks tentatively over to me, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“Mikey, Snaps, this is Misty. I’m seeing her.”
My declaration might as well be hell freezing over.
Their faces are frozen in shock. In all my years with my boys, I’ve never said the words.
The statement actually pinches my stomach with unease.
My default douchebag response would be ‘nah, nothing serious.’ Or ‘we’re just fucking.
’ But none of that is true. This shit is serious, even if not by choice, and we’re not fuckin’ – dammit.
After she kisses them hello and takes her seat at my side, I ease their concerns.
“Free to speak, gentlemen. She comes from good stock, and I trust her.”
“Boss.” Mikey clears his throat.
I know what’s coming, since he’s more old school than the others. He doesn’t want a new woman outside of the family on the inside.
“Don’t,” I say. “Consider her like Chestnut. We all trust her, yeah? Now you’ll all learn to trust Misty.”
Mikey sits back, biting his tongue.
“Look. This multi-scale operation of ours is expanding. And this year I’m gunning for capo.
John Scar from New York already hinted at it if we get our numbers up.
So, I get bumped up, you motherfuckers get bumped up.
I know you’re all hungry for more, so that’s what’s coming to you. More responsibility. More cash .”
“Hell yeah.” Snaps rubs his palms together, then his expression drops a bit. “But—uh—boss. The thing we were just talking about.”
“The heat.”
“Yeah. We’re worried about Glove. That man paved the way for all of us.” Mikey clears his throat, still uncomfortable talking around Capri. “Maybe we should increase security around him. Gotta’ pay debts owed, y’know?”
“He – uh, mm—personally saved my ass, boss,” Snaps says.
“Remember? With the Russians in the city? Was hiding under that long white table cloth in Café Basto when the pricks were about to draw their weapons on me. Damn. Still remember that moment like it was yesterday. If Glove hadn’t beat ’em to the punch, I’d be Swiss cheese. ”
“You were fucking one of their daughters.” Bruno folds his arms, laughing.
“She came on to me!” Snaps pushes Bruno. “But the Glove stepped in to save my ass.”
“He wanted them gone.” Mikey huffs.
“Doesn’t change the fact he saved me.”
“Yes. I’m aware my father’s a legend of his generation.”
As I say the words, I realize something – these men aren’t just loyal to me. It runs deeper than that. Mikey’s of a different time, and respects the old ways. Snaps owes his life to Pop. And Bruno’s been with me since the beginning. Could I… possibly let them in on our secret?
It’d be a fuck ton easier to manage Capri’s safety if they knew how important she was.
But then I risk opening the circle.
“Rumor has it they might start questioning our establishments.” Mikey scratches his chin. “If any of our stories don’t line up, the Lucrazis will gladly start the war. And I don’t feel like being the first head splattered.”
“What’s there to know? None of you have the whereabouts of my father. Be honest about the last time you’ve seen him – which will all predate this situation with Sonny – and let that be the end of it.”
“One of the Rigianos in New York said one of Vino Barone’s men pulled a gun to his leg. It got tense, boss.” Snaps rubs his knees nervously.
“Look. There’s two suspects that the Lucrazis and Barones are gunning for. Glove, and Jay Rockstar. Given that Jay is always putting himself in the public eye, he’s going to be easy to find and hard to get rid of.”
“Boss…” Bruno sets his jaw, taking out his phone. “They got to Jay this morning.”
I look at the text messages from one of Chestnut’s dancers. The timestamp is about the time I was getting hitched.
“They put a cigar cutter to his pinky and nipped him enough to bleed,” Bruno says. “He swore up and down he had no idea what they were talking about. And I guess they believe him, because he’s still got all ten digits.”
“Boss—mm. Doesn’t that mean we’re next?”
I nod.
Now I’m worried one of our adversaries might recognize Capri if they scope out the club. It’s dark enough in there, though. And who the fuck would suspect I’d put the daughter of Rocco Dotelli – a lawyer – to pose as a stripper?
Can’t be second guessing myself. That’d be fucked.
“Sonny’s disappearance is no joke.” Mikey leans back in his seat. “If he doesn’t turn up soon, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
Capri side-eyes me.
Fuck it. If I’m going to be building an empire to rival Castor’s, I need to start trusting the people around me fully.
“They won’t be finding Sonny,” I say.
Capri stiffens like a corpse next to me, but I squeeze her hand to tell her it’s alright.
“You got more information, boss? I knew something was up when you called us so early.” Bruno inches forward to the end of the couch.
“How deep does your loyalty go?” I pose the question to my three closest.
Snaps scoffs.
“Something about my question annoy you?” I growl.
“Yeah, actually, it does. The um—fucking cartel shootout four years ago. I gotta remind you that me and Mikey jumped in the open line of fire so you could run out?”
“Don’t forget when the feds raided Star Dust,” Bruno adds. “Who was the first to step in their way so boss could exit unscathed?”
I turn to Capri. Don’t know why I want her approval on this, but I do. And I think I just received it, judging by her reaction.
“Sit back, fuckers.” I backhand the air. “All I was doing was listing out your résumés to the daughter of Rocco Dotelli.”