Chapter 2
Fabio
In five seconds, I’d be gone. Remo was always pulling this late shit with me. Like I didn’t have a life or other obligations. And he was the one who called this fucking meeting.
I finished my wine and checked the time on my Rolex.
I had less than an hour to get home before my cleaning ladies left, and I wanted to give them their tip.
No matter what my mood was, I was always generous to those who served me well.
Cyndee and Celine were exceptional, just like Juan, the doorman.
It was the everyday person who made my life easier and often better.
They deserved to be properly rewarded for their hard work.
“Would you like another, Mr. Ferrari?” The cute blonde gazed at me with a wanting in her blue eyes. As most women looked at me, but I could think of one who never appeared interested in me.
“No.” I placed a twenty on the table. “Tell my brother to kiss my ass.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” Fear flashed in her eyes.
“Tell him yourself.” Remo sat across from me. “Bring us a bottle of my favorite,” he told the server.
“I won’t be staying long enough to share a bottle with you.”
“That’s fine. But I plan to be here for an hour. Then I need to pick up the kids from church. That’s where I was, at church. Dropping my girls off for their choir practice.”
His twins were Amara and Allegra. They were eight years old. Both were beautiful and sweet. Unfortunately, they were girls and no use to my brother.
“And where is their mother? Shouldn’t she be carting the girls to their activities?” Honestly, it seemed Remo was doing everything these days, while his wife lived her best life without her husband and daughters.
“She had a doctor’s appointment.”
“Is everything okay?” I sat taller in my seat. Maybe he was going to tell me they were having a baby, and it was a boy, and they’d make the announcement at Christmas. My parents would be thrilled.
So far, not one of my older brothers had produced an heir to carry on the Ferrari legacy for when the rest of us were gone. Mind you, I was thirty-three and had no plans to die anytime soon. But like Hugo, Elio, and Andrea, I was single and without a male offspring.
Fiero, the second oldest, had a son. But Bowie was illegitimate, and not full Italian. His baby momma and son lived in Southern California, while Fiero was glued to my father’s side, like a disobedient child, in Vancouver. That was by design after my brother fucked up.
“Anna is fine. Just following up on her nose job.” Remo checked his phone.
The blonde server appeared with the bottle of wine and two glasses. She quietly poured. My brother didn’t even acknowledge her.
“Thank you,” I said.
She nodded and left.
“I’d forgotten she had some cosmetic work done. I thought you were going to tell me she was pregnant.”
Remo’s dark eyes shot to mine. “I wish. But you’d have to have sex to make a baby.”
Oh shit. I didn’t want to go there. “Then why did you want to meet?”
“I need you to take the pressure off me.”
“What are you talking about?” God only knew what kind of pressure my brother would put on me, just to save his neck.
As the youngest son, I supposedly had it easy.
It wasn’t true. My father texted me multiple times a month to find out if I had anyone special in my life.
Obviously, a man in his prime had relations.
I wasn’t a priest or celibate. But having someone special in my life would come with a lot of expectations from my family.
So, I kept things very casual with women.
“Are you dating anyone?” my brother asked.
“No.”
“Why not? You’re the most eligible bachelor in San Francisco. You should have zero probably finding a woman.”
“You’re correct. I don’t have problems finding an outlet. But I’m not ready to settle down.” I drank my wine and checked the time, again.
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Yes.”
“Where?” Remo gulped his wine, then refilled his glass. “If you don’t step up and get serious with someone, I can’t move you up in the business.”
He meant, take over the business so he could scale back and spend more time trying to win his wife back.
Anna hated our illegal dealings. She also hated being pregnant and the stretch marks the twins gave her.
We had all heard her complaints. I’d never known anyone as vain as Anna.
I felt sorry for my brother. His marriage had been arranged, and he’d been miserable ever since the girls were born.
“I need to get home to pay the cleaning service.”
“Don’t they send you an invoice? What kind of service are you using if they can’t invoice you?”
Should have known he would give me shit. “They do but I wanted to give them a cash tip.”
“Jesus, brother. Just add it to the invoice. I needed you.”
“Bullshit. You just don’t want to drink alone.” I shook my head. “And I pay cash, so they don’t have to claim it on their taxes.” The two sisters were barely getting by. The least I could do to help them was give them cash tips so there was no record of the money.
“You’re right. But also, you have responsibilities to the family.”
“So do our other brothers. Why aren’t you up their asses about getting married and having a baby.”
“Because they’re not in my district. You are.”
I sighed. He had a point. “Why do you get like this during the holidays?” It was the same thing every year. I hated Christmas because my brother stole the fun with his complaining and pressure.
“It’s been four years since the last time you had a girlfriend at any of the functions we attend. People talk. Mamma and Papá talk.”
Damn him. He just had to go there and bring her up without mentioning her name.
“I mean, I know she broke your heart but after four years, you should be over it.” And Remo kept going on like the heartless mobster that he was… “Do you plan to stay single forever? You know what the will says. Without a male heir, you get nothing.”
“I’ve made my own fortune. I don’t need Papá’s money. If Anna won’t sleep with you, how will you get a son?” Instantly, I regretted my words.
“You son of a bitch,” he hissed through his teeth. “Get out of my face.”
I stood without hesitation.
“Just be prepared for the family to be after you about settling down. And don’t be late for the girls’ choir concert like you were last year.” My brother sneered, then turned his attention to his phone.
I didn’t reply so not to drag this out. Talking would be pointless given Remo’s mood.
The poor guy was probably walking around with blue balls.
I shouldn’t smile, but I couldn’t help myself.
If my brother had a backbone, he wouldn’t be married to the Italian Ice Queen.
It was likely my brother hadn’t slept with his wife since impregnating her almost nine years ago.
Retrieving my phone from my coat pocket, I pushed those thoughts of my brother out of my mind and checked my cameras. Hopefully, Cyndee and her sister were still at my place. I’d feel like shit if they had to wait to get the money until the next time they cleaned my condo.
There she was, Cyndee, the pretty sister. Dancing around my living room like she owned it. She had sassy and sexy curvy body. I liked it when she turned my stereo on and danced. Normally, I’d see it as disrespect but for some reason I didn’t with her.
I rushed home, so I didn’t disappoint her. She was just getting by cleaning for the rich and I was confident she needed my generous tip for Christmas. Regular people depend on things like tips.
There was only one person I could stand disappointing, and that was my father, Pietro Ferrari.
Papá had made it known that his sons were failing him.
He’d built his empire in Italy the old-fashioned way, with blood, sweat and many tears.
He had strict morals and values. High standards and nearly unachievable expectations for his children.
So far, the only person who had pleased him was my older sister Paoletta, who helped run things in Seattle with my other brother, Hugo.
Lettie had married a powerful Italian clothing designer, Freddie Farina, which had giving us a strong hold in the Port of Seattle for importing and exporting our products internationally under the guise of his business, Farina’s Italian Couture.
To make matters worse, the happy, successful couple had three sons to carry on the Farina name. Their good fortune had put a spotlight on me and my single brothers’ failures.
I loved my older sister, but her perfectionistic, overachieving attitude pissed me off.
Getting into my G-Wagon, I exhaled a deep breath and drove home.
Time was running out. Cyndee and her sister could leave any second and then I’d be forced to go to their home.
I really didn’t want to see where they lived.
I had an idea, but I hadn’t allowed myself to dig into Cyndee’s life.
We ran in different circles and would never be accepted into the Ferrari familia.
Fifteen minutes later, I was exiting the brass elevator on my floor. I pulled myself together, punched in the code to my condo and entered.
“Mr. Ferrari!” she said acting surprised, but I could tell she’d been waiting for me. “I was just about to leave. Everything has been completed per your instructions.”
I shut the door behind me. “You say that each day, Cyndee.” I hiked my brow.
“No, really.” Her cheeks turned red. She gathered the purple tote bag she always brought with cleaning items I didn’t provide. “Celine is already in the van.”
“Can you stay for a minute?” I went into my kitchen to get a beer.
“Umm, sure. Are you doing an inspection?”
“No. I just need a minute before dealing with you.” I twisted off the cap of the bottle of my favorite craft beer and took a long swig of it.
“Deal with me?” She gulped thickly. Her honey-colored eyes scanned the room. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No. Can you be silent for five seconds?”
“Yes. So sorry, Mr. Ferrari.”
I growled in my throat.
“Sorry.” She slapped her hand over her mouth.