1. Chapter One
Chapter One
Let’s See What a Little Persuasion Can Do
Antonio Rizzo Jr.
Alessandro leaned against the wall of my private elevator, twirling a set of keys around his finger with a mischievous grin. With his tousled midnight hair, eyes that gleamed with mischief, and the familiar smirk that had been plastered on his face since childhood, we silently ascended to the top floor of my company, Sleek Contractors & Luxury Home Designs .
I poured my blood, sweat and tears into building my company from the ground up— separate from the Famiglia. Sleek Contractors & Luxury Home Designs was something I wanted to pass down as my legacy to my children, not the one of power, money and murder I’d inherit from my father when he passed away or stepped aside as Don of the Rizzo Famiglia.
Alessandro’s laid-back demeanor infuriated me to my core. Since we were children, he’d always had the ability to detach himself from his surroundings, while I’ve never had that luxury. I have never been jealous of my little brother, but in this instance, envy consumed me. He had no care in the world while mine crashed down around me.
Alessandro’s carefree attitude was something I longed for, but I knew it wasn’t possible for me. It was my title and position as Underboss that prevented it from happening. Every aspect of my life, every action I took, had an impact on the family, including this situation. It didn’t matter if it was a lie.
We’d gotten word that one of the local gossip rags, Exposé, was in the process of printing a fucking exposé on my supposed relationship with some model I boned more than a year ago, and her upcoming birth of our love child. Normally, shit like that didn’t piss me off. I let the lies roll off my back, because someone will always lie to get ahead, especially in our world. But I couldn’t ignore it this time.
All kinds of stories had been printed about me. From secret weddings to women, I’d never met, to me having mistresses on the side during each of those fake marriages. A few months ago, there was a front page spread on the cover of Exposé about some woman I vaguely remembered from college saying she was involved in a few orgies with me. While I had my fair share of women, sometimes more than one woman at a time on several occasions, orgies weren’t my thing, and I never participated in one. Apparently, this woman was one of those ladies who I had my fun with, then tossed to the side and now she was bitter.
However, now was not the time for any lie to be front page news in some magazine especially about a woman and a child —a story she confirmed to be true. We were in the middle of some shit with the other families. Namely whose daughter I’d marry, sealing another bond between families, just as my father, grandfather, and his father before him had done.
“It’s not true, is it?” he asked.
I glared at my brother, and he smirked. “We’re not about to have a little Tony running around, are we?”
The humor lacing Alessandro’s voice made me angrier. I wanted to pull my gun and put a bullet in his head. I stared daggers at my little brother. While he taunted me, this shit wasn’t a laughing matter. Sure, I fucked a lot of women in my young life, a lot of women, but I always wore a condom and disposed of them myself. I made sure to do that with every sexual partner and never slipped up. Not one time since I started fucking. Having a child with someone I could give two shits about was a crippling fear of mine. Me and Alessandro were both products of that kind of relationship and I never wanted that for my children.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snapped. “Of course, it’s not true. I strap up, bro.”
“I’m sure you don’t need me to explain the birds and the bees to you, big brother,” he slapped me on the back, “but strapping up isn’t always full proof. Unless you got your shit snipped,” he said, doing his fingers in a cutting motion, “anything could happen.”
“I’m not a fucking idiot.” I pushed him away from me. “But trust me, that kid isn’t fucking mine. The timeline doesn’t add up. Marisol and I had one night. One fucking night, well over a year ago. There’s no way that kid is mine.”
“Maybe she isn’t pregnant.” Alessandro shrugged. “Maybe she’s just after your attention. You have been in the news a lot with the company lately. Maybe she wants you more than you thought.”
Marisol just wanting my attention would be the best-case scenario. It would save a lot of time and money rather than trying to disprove her baseless claims with DNA tests.
“To me, it doesn’t matter why she’s doing it, Alessandro. It’s not mine.”
“Well, what do you want to do about the story?”
“I don’t fucking know. Burn that bitch to the ground before they have a chance to print it.”
“That’s possible.”
“That fucking story cannot run, bro. It’ll draw too much attention to me, which means too much attention on the family. We already got that shit happening in Georgia with Chantal. We’re having to walk a fine line.”
A chime sounded when we reached the twenty-fifth floor. The door to the private elevator slid open directly into my office, which was a good thing because right now, I didn’t need to be around anyone. Even Alessandro’s presence irritated me.
The large back wall of windows in my office boasted an expressive view of downtown Chicago. Although cloudy and rainy today, the view of the city still brought a sense of calm over me.
Chicago was always home. No matter where I was in the world, no matter how beautiful the place, this city always tugged at my heart. I could never stay away too long.
After gazing out the rain covered windows for a minute contemplating my next move, I sat behind my desk. Alessandro sat in one of the two chairs sitting in front of it.
“Well, let’s burn the place to the ground,” he suggested.
“I’ve already talked to Amy Montero about her bullshit revenge story. If that happens, the first place they’ll come is to me. I can see the headline now. Businessman and mob boss’ son, Antonio Rizzo Jr. tries to hide the truth about affair and love child by burning Exposé to the ground. A bunch a bullshit.”
I rubbed my temples, a massive headache slammed my brain. Why people believe the shit in those papers was beyond me.
“We have to do something. There’s no way that story can run, because if it does, reporters are going to start digging even more into the family,” Alessandro warned. “And there’s no telling what they’ll uncover.”
“Don’t you think I know that!” I flung my hands in the air in frustration. “Papa’s already on my case about the Evangeline shit. This would send him through the fucking roof. He’d accuse me of not marrying her because I had some fucking love child on the way.”
“Tony, you’ve got to admit,” Alessandro chuckled, “it was fucked up what happened.”
I scoffed. Evangeline knew what she was getting into. I wasn’t husband material, and she most definitely wasn’t wife material. Mistress yes, wife no.
She wanted to video our night together with one of her friends, and that was what we did. Just so happened it ended up in the hands of a reporter who put it all over the internet. Photographs pulled from the video made front page news across the country, dousing any chances of her marrying me. She blamed me for the leaked footage, but her real enemy was her friend, not me.
“While I happily took part in its creation, I had nothing to do with that video surfacing. But I can’t deny I was overjoyed when Papa saw it for himself. You’d think after the shit he went through with Chan’s mother, he wouldn’t be pushing this on me.”
As Don, my father lost the love of his life when he took over the family. He chose the Famiglia over the woman he loved, as he was expected to do. They were going to get married according to my sister, but our grandfather, Salvatore, forced my father to choose between love or family. My father doesn’t talk much about that time, but when he does, pain and sorrow were always reflected in his words.
He chose to marry our mother, Marianna, instead of the woman who still held his heart even though she was dead. It was sad and something he regretted to this day. That was why I couldn’t understand why he was insisting I marry any of these women. They were only after the power and prestige that came with my name, just like my mother when she married my father.
“You would think he’d go about it differently,” Alessandro said, agreeing with me. “But maybe he believes you’re unwilling to settle down to find someone you love. You’re twenty-eight, and in a few years, you’ll be Don. We will need a capable Donna, but it seems like you’re not in a hurry to find one. You’ve had no steady girlfriend and no prospects of a wife.”
“Doesn’t mean I should be marrying just anyone. I have fucking standards.”
“Standards?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Bro, you’re a man whore, let’s be honest. You switch women, like they’re your designer suits. You don’t have a steady girlfriend because you don’t want a steady girlfriend. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it has nothing to do with standards.”
I glared at him. Yes, I was in the company of a different woman more often than not, but it didn’t mean I didn’t want to find love.
“I’m not a man whore. I just love the company of beautiful women, like any other man on the fucking planet. And not just one at the moment. But back to the topic at hand, which isn’t my sex life.”
“This entire situation is about your sex life, Tony.” Alessandro rolled his eyes. “Who you’re sticking your dick in is coming back to bite you in the ass.”
He was right, but I wouldn’t admit it. “What do I do?”
He laughed when I ignored his comment.
“If you don’t want to burn the place to the ground, and you haven’t gotten anywhere with the columnist, or the editor, I suggest you call the owner. Have him stop the story. I’m sure you can persuade him.”
Damn, I didn’t want it to come to that. I hated when my two worlds collided. As an upstanding businessman, I schmoozed with the upper echelons of Chicago’s society as CEO, designing and building luxury homes for the wealthy. However, there were times wielding the Rizzo name like a knife through the heart was necessary. I became the person who sheds blood for whatever reason, no matter the consequences. In this instance, the CEO wouldn’t cut it, but Underboss would. There was no other choice.
I reached for my office phone. “Laney, could you please come in here? Thank you.”
I hung up the phone and while we waited for my personal assistant, Alessandro shifted in his seat. I’d known for a while he was interested in Laney, but he tried to hide it. However, I didn’t know why.
“Come in!” I called out after a quick knock sounded.
She pushed the door open, and the sound of Laney’s heels clicking against the glossy hardwood floors of my office caused Alessandro to sit up in his chair a little straighter.
Yeah, he’s got it bad.
“Good morning Mr. Rizzo and Aless... Mr. Rizzo. How may I help you?”
Alessandro grimaced when she called him by his last name, taking me by surprise. I also didn’t miss that she almost called him Alessandro, which I wouldn’t find weird if I didn’t know Laney was always professional. She never called anyone by their first name.
“You all right, bro?” I asked.
He glared my way, and I shrugged to hide my confusion. His olive complexion was tinted red, and he stopped talking when she entered the room. He was pissed.
When Laney looked between us, her eyes landed on Alessandro and something flickered in them, but she shuttered it quickly. Maybe Alessandro wasn’t the only one who was interested.
Laney Duvall was beyond beautiful. Dark, ebony skin, long legs that went on for days, and an ass that was out of this world. I enjoyed the view every time I had the chance. But to top it all off, she’d been the most intelligent and the best damn assistant I ever had. Not to mention she had been the only one who hadn’t tried to fuck me. Many tried until I hired her, and I was thankful for her restraint.
No matter how beautiful the woman, rule number one was, I didn’t sleep where I worked. That was opening the door for a sexual harassment lawsuit and too many problems that I wasn’t willing to deal with for a piece of ass. But a little flirting wasn’t out of the question, especially if it irked my little brother.
“Laney, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Tony?” I asked, smirking. “We’re friends, no?”
“We are, Sir, but you know I can’t do that.” She smiled with her shoulders relaxed. “It’s inappropriate and I like my job. I wouldn’t want my co-workers getting the wrong idea.”
“But I’m the boss, Laney. What I say goes. Call me Tony.”
The scowl on my brother’s face made the innocent interaction between Laney and me even more enjoyable. Just a few minutes ago, he laughed about my predicament. Right now, he wanted to reach across the desk and throttle me. Justifiable payback for finding humor in my situation.
She shook her head and laughed. “How can I help you, Sir?”
“Could you please set up a meeting for today with George Driver, the owner of Exposé magazine? ”
“What time?”
“Let him know I expect him here within the hour.”
“And if he refuses?”
“Tell him it’s an urgent matter and it would be in his best interest and the interest of his company to get in the car that I send for him.”
Laney knew exactly what I meant. She witnessed the two sides of my world. There’d been many times the monster made appearances in this very office, although it was always a last resort. She never asked questions. She knew who my family was when she accepted the position. Along with the salary she earned, and the non-disclosure agreement she signed, I ensured her silence.
She nodded while inputting the information into her tablet. “I will contact Mr. Driver immediately and send a car to pick him up. Will there be anything else?”
“No ma’am. That will be all.”
She nodded, glanced at Alessandro before she turned on her heels. Alessandro’s eyes followed her until she closed the door behind her. His head whipped towards me, and I couldn’t help the laugh that ripped from me.
“What’s the matter, little brother?” I asked, taunting him.
“What the hell was that?”
I shrugged, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“Is there something going on between you and Laney?” he asked, his anger rising. “Is that why you did that shit to Evangeline?”
“I didn’t do shit to Evangeline. Is there something you want to tell me concerning you and my personal assistant?”
His nostrils flared, and he pursed his lips, refusing to speak about anything concerning him and Laney. I decided to put him out of his misery and answer his question.
“No, Alessandro, there is nothing going on between Laney and me.”
I noticed the audible breath he released, relief hitting him instantly.
“She’s the best damn assistant I’ve ever had. I’m not fucking that up.”
He stood and walked towards the elevator, his steps labored. “I’ve got to head to California today.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. Keep me posted on everything.”
“Alessandro,” I called out before he stepped onto the elevator. He stopped but kept his back to me, his shoulders slumped, almost defeated. “You sure you’re alright? You know you can talk to me, right?”
“I’m fine, Tony. Just going out there to get my head straight before we deal with all that shit in Georgia. Don’t worry.”
Not worrying was impossible when it came to him and Chantal. Although Chan was the oldest and Alessandro the youngest, I always felt it was my duty to protect them both since we were kids.
And now that we were older, the same insane need to take on their problems as my own was still there.
“Okay,” I responded, although I didn’t believe he was fine, “I’ll see you at Chan’s.”
He nodded, stepped onto the elevator, and kept his head down, while my eyes remained zeroed in on him. He was keeping something from me, and I didn’t like it. Alessandro was more than a brother to me, he was my best friend. We didn’t keep secrets from one another.
After the doors slid closed, I focused on the task at hand, pushing my concern for my brother from my mind. Getting a handle on this situation before it blew up in my face was my priority.
I pulled my phone from the inside of my blazer and scrolled until I crossed Marisol’s name. Why I still had her number was a mystery. Maybe I hoped if we ever crossed paths again, we could have a repeat of that night.
Definitely not now.
My finger hovered over the call button, unsure if calling her was the right move. I hadn’t talked to her in over a year. The night we spent together on the island of Crete was one to remember, and I remembered every single detail. There was no fucking way she was pregnant with my child.
We met at an exclusive night club after I wrapped up a business meeting and decided to have a night out on the town to relax before heading to Tokyo to meet with Haruto Yamada, the Yakuza boss of the Satō Clan.
Marisol and I partied, enjoying one night of multiple orgasms until I was on a plane to Japan before the sun came up. If it hadn’t been for that meeting with Haruto, I was sure our night would have lasted a few more days.
We departed on good terms, at least I thought we did. She got what she wanted, and so had I. She knew that one night was just sex. Now she was telling the world we were having a kid.
Bullshit!
Why in the hell would she try this?
I walked over to the rain covered windows and looked out over the city. I needed to calm down before I dealt with this shit. Too much was happening all at once. First, the Families were pimping out their daughters so they would have the title Donna once I took my father’s place. My sister had been pulled into some shit with her boyfriends’ motorcycle club, Demons United, and now I got some woman I fucked one time, trying to destroy my life.
I didn’t know how much time had passed while lost in my thoughts of how to handle this situation. The rain had stopped pounding the glass, and the sun peaked out from behind the gray clouds. Maybe it was a sign things would be looking up real soon. At least, that was what I hoped.
The sound of the office phone forced me away from the lovely view. “This better be Laney telling me Driver is here,” I mumbled, sliding my cell phone in my pocket, and walking over to my desk, pressing the speaker option on the phone.
I’d let my lawyers handle Marisol.
“Yes, Laney. Send him in.”
I hung up and sat behind my desk. When the large windowless door opened, George Driver stalked into my office in a wrinkled tan suit and anger marring his chubby face. He’d learn quickly he wasn’t meeting Antonio the CEO, but Antonio the Underboss. This piece of shit would not destroy my life for money.
“Mr. Driver, have a seat.” I motioned to the seat Alessandro had vacated earlier. “Laney, please hold all my calls until I’m done with Mr. Driver,” I said, keeping my eyes focused on him.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied, then closed the door.
“What is the meaning of this!” he shouted, spit flying from his mouth as he took the seat in front of me. “I don’t like being summoned like I’m some damn servant. I am the CEO and owner of Exposé Magazine. I do not work for you.”
My leather office chair rocked when I leaned back and centered my attention on the man who looked like he would blow a fuse at any moment.
“Mr. Driver.” I smiled, ignoring his rant, resisting the urge not to leap across my desk and choke the life out of him. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“You certainly didn’t give me a choice. Now, did you?”
His question caused my smile to widen. “No, I certainly did not. I’m glad you understood it wasn’t a request. I assume you know who I am and why you’re here?”
“Of course, I know who you are. Everyone does. But no, I do not know why I’m here.”
He looked around the office like he was waiting for someone or something to jump out and scare the shit out of him. While he tried to portray that he was in control, deep down he understood he was in deep shit.
“Great, so we can bypass the formalities. Well, George. Can I call you George?” Not waiting for his response, I continued. “Kill the story. It’s a problem.”
“I’m not doing that, and you can’t force me. Freedom of the Press and all.” He smirked. “It may be a problem for you, Mr. Rizzo, but it’s what my readers want. It’ll be our most talked about story this year. You’re an extremely popular man. Our readership always increases if there’s a story pertaining to you and your sexual exploits. Now throw in a love child, the magazines will fly off the shelf.”
The excitement in his voice made my anger soar. He thought he made the final decision when it came to anything concerning my life. Like I had no other option but to accept his pronouncement. I tilted my head and studied the man in front of me with a smile on his face. One that wouldn’t last much longer.
Although it was his company, he leeched off the lives of others, including mine. And had done so for many years without complaint from me. Today, that would change. He didn’t work hard, he lived to crush lives while profiting from it. Now I would crush his.
I pulled my H & K nine-millimeter handgun that was strapped under my desk and chambered a round—the black polymer virtually weightless in my hand. His sharp intake of breath infiltrated my ears when I aimed it at his head from across the desk, sending a jolt of adrenaline racing through my body.
Let’s see what a little persuasion can do.
“Well, it seems it’s no longer just my problem, George. But yours.”