Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Remi
“You will sink like a stone if you keep tensing your body.” My swim instruction began way too early, especially considering my late-night activities with a certain intense man. Who gave me the most intense orgasm of my life.
I’ve yet to run into Angelo this morning. Just as well, because his sister has taken up the mantle of trying to kill me.
“Chin up.” Standing behind me in the four foot area of the pool, Alessandra tilts my head.
Despite the correction, my lower half sinks, and I awkwardly find my feet before my upper half goes under too. “How am I supposed to keep my body from tensing? I’m tense because I’ve nearly swallowed all the water from this pool. And it’s a big freaking pool!”
“We’re not giving up until you’re water safe,” she says with determination.
“How about I just keep being water safe by staying away from water?” I move my goggles to the top of my head, the steam rising around us from the heated water meeting the cool morning air.
“Except you can’t, because you live in a city surrounded by water, currently staying at a property on the water,” she points out. “I’m not giving up, and I don’t want you giving up, either.”
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay, but I need a bathroom break.”
“You’re stalling.”
“Am not,” I say childishly.
“Five minute break,” she tells me.
“You’re almost as intense a swim instructor as your brother is about, well, everything,” I inform her.
“I’m not sure if that’s an insult or a compliment,” she retorts.
“Me neither.”
Wading to the shallow end, I climb out and do a little shiver dance as I wrap a towel around myself. With a mixture of awe and envy, I watch as Alessandra floats like a cork stopper.
And yes, I’m stalling.
Angelo
After a quick three mile run, my hair’s still damp from the shower as I enter the kitchen. “Keep your seat,” I tell Al’s bodyguard.
“Nice to see you in a good humor,” Maks says, standing guard over the gagged man bound to a chair.
Last night’s private concert has helped improve my mood considerably. I haven’t seen the little pickpocket this morning, but my wallet was left on the piano. Remi thinks she can win in this game between us, but what she doesn’t know is I’m the king of NOLA, and I make the rules.
Smiling as I pull up the security feed, I find Al in the pool. “It’s time for a swim,” I announce.
Maks and I drag Al’s bodyguard outside and to the edge of the deep end.
My sister’s underwater practicing her 5th Stroke, and I squat down, waiting patiently until she surfaces. Al flings her hair back from her eyes; they go wide as I shove her bodyguard’s head under.
His muffled pleas fall on deaf ears as I mentally count the seconds. His body stills after forty-two.
I rise, toeing his lifeless body into the water.
“Called it. The most dangerous job in the family,” Maks quietly says.
Al’s arms slice through the water as she reaches the ladder and climbs out. “Assholes, the both of you!” she hisses, wrapping a towel around herself. “Remi’s in the pool house and could’ve seen the whole thing!”
“That’s your takeaway?” I shout.
Remi steps out of the pool house, her eyes landing on the corpse floating facedown. Covering her mouth, she sprints inside the main house.
“Just as we were making progress. Thanks a lot,” Al snipes.
“What are you talking about?” I turn my attention back to my sister.
“For someone who has to be in control, you don’t know shit.” Al crosses her arms.
“What I do know is you’ve been sneaking around visiting that piece of shit Fabien,” I spit.
She lifts her chin in defiance. “He’s my brother, and I have every right to see him.”
“Wrong!” I thunder. “I am your guardian, and I forbade it for a reason.”
“Yeah, because of this stupid beef you two have.” Al rolls her eyes.
I want to fucking pull my hair out. “Because a federal male prison is no place for a teenage girl!”
“Where is my place, then? Because it sure as hell won’t be under your thumb for much longer!” She spins on her heel and stomps off.
Maks goes to say something, but thinks better of it, closing his mouth.
“Clean out the pool, and then go feed the gator!” I bark, storming inside.
Nola’s on the kitchen counter, grooming. “Don’t start with me,” I warn the cat. “And get down.”
She hisses.
“Mr. Calvani,” Corinne calls from inside the butler’s pantry. “That bobcat still out here?”
“Jesus Christ, she’s not a bobcat.” I throw up my hands in frustration. “Nola, I said get down.”
The cat ignores me, continuing with her grooming.
An annoyed sound vibrates my chest as I fling open the pantry door. “What have Al and Remi been doing this morning?”
“You didn’t hear this from me, but Al’s been teaching Remi to swim,” Corinne tells me, peeking over my shoulder.
“Remi can’t swim.” And now I feel like an even bigger asshole.
Corinne nods. “Al’s taken a real shine to your girlfriend.”
The doorbell rings, and I don’t have time to set her straight. Not that I know what Remi is to me. Trouble, but we’ve already established that last night. “That’s Nic. Escort him to the study.”
She glances nervously over my shoulder.
I tilt my head, sighing to the heavens before grabbing the treat jar. Marching to the other side of the kitchen, I give the jar an exaggerated shake.
Nola hops down from the counter and crosses the room in two bounds, purring and circling my leg. “We’re friends, now, huh? Funny how that works,” I mutter, opening the jar and holding out the little pellet.
The cat nibbles it from my fingers as the old woman scurries out of the room.
I grab the intercom phone and press the button for the guard booth attendant. “Alessandra does not leave this property unless it’s with me or Maks.”
“Yes, Mr. Calvani.”
Ending the call, I look down at the cat, who’s pawing my leg for more treats. “Nola, you are my houseguest. I expect you to act like one and stop terrorizing the staff.”
She purrs like a V8 engine, rubbing her head against my ankle, and I can’t help but chuckle. “Just like your human, but I know your game.” I feed her another treat.
My fingers go to give her head a little scratch, but she darts away. “I see how it is.”
Exiting the kitchen, I take the stairs two at a time. Unlocking my bedroom, I remove the artwork over my bed, revealing the safe. My hand hovers over the biometric sensor, and the safe opens. Counting out Nic’s money, I close the safe and return the painting to its position.
Downstairs, the soft sound of jazz has me making a detour. Pausing at the threshold of the music room, I resist the urge to grab my gun.
“You’re really good.” My cousin is seated far too close to Remi on the piano bench.
“Thanks,” she tells him.
“How’d you learn to play?”
I don’t announce my presence, because I’m interested in Remi’s answer.
“My mawmaw was a piano teacher. As soon as I could sit upright on a piano bench, she was trying to teach me, but I hated learning the rules,” she says, a smile in her voice. “I don’t know how to read music, but if I can hear a song, I can play it.”
It makes sense. Remi’s style of play isn’t as polished and precise as a classically trained pianist. It’s more raw. More passionate. More heartfelt.
Joie de vivre oozes from her play. Or perhaps from the woman herself.
“You do this for a living?” Nic asks.
She shakes her head. “That was the dream, but…”
“But what?”
“Life got in the way, as cliché as it sounds. Maybe I’ll own a jazz club one of these days. Have a captive audience.” Remi’s playful giggle flitters through the room, hitting me square in the chest.
My jaw tics.
“ Bella , you wouldn’t need a captive audience. Men would line the street…” Nic trails off when I cross the room lightning-fast, positioning the barrel of my gun against his temple.
“Nic, I see you’ve met my houseguest.”
My cousin gulps.
“Get to the study.” I holster my gun, and he scurries out of the room.
I take his vacated seat, with Remi eyeing me with a mixture of fear and curiosity. “Using that heavy-handed approach again, Mr. Calvani.”
“You enjoyed my heavy-handed approach last night.”
Remi’s cheeks flush as she ducks her head. My index finger moves under her chin, tilting her gaze back to mine.
“Was the body floating in your pool a former ‘houseguest?’” she whispers.
“It was negligence on my part, not realizing you were outside,” I tell her, dropping my finger. “I’m sorry.” This coming from a man who never apologizes.
Her forehead scrunches. “You’re sorry, not that there was a dead body, but that I saw it?”
“Yes.” I make no fucking apologies for killing Al’s bodyguard. To my disappointment, Remi’s hands remain firmly clasped in her lap. “You’re afraid of me.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Her words drip with sarcasm.
“Because you haven’t tried to rob me.” I pat myself down, making sure that’s a true statement. It is, which means someone else was her mark. “What did you steal from my cousin?”
Reaching into her pocket, she holds up Nic’s gold chain with a sheepish look.
A smile touches my lips. “His loss.”
She goes to hand it to me, but I shake my head. “Serves him right. You keep it.”
“Serves him right for talking to your ‘houseguest?’” Remi raises an eyebrow.
Yes , I want to irrationally answer.
Clearing my throat, I announce instead, “If you’ll excuse me. I have business to attend to. We’ll discuss our ‘project’ later this evening.”
“Your bicep must be huge, carrying around such a heavy hand.”
I give her a blank look.
“Come on! Not even a hint of a smile.”
My “heavy” hand bands around the thin column of Remi’s neck, her eyes going wide. “While you’re my houseguest, you’ll refrain from flirting with other men. Unless you want to find another dead man floating in the pool.”
Letting the threat settle in nicely, I release my hold and walk out, but not before giving myself another pat down.
Joining Nic in the study, I close the French doors behind me.
“I’m sorry, boss, about the woman,” my cousin says. “Meant no disrespect. I thought she was one of Al’s tutors or something.”
“She’s not your concern, and that’s all you need to know,” I say gruffly.
He holds up his hands. “Understood.”
“Loan principal with interest.” I hand him an envelope.
“Thanks, boss.” Nic pockets the cash. “Did last night’s banking have anything to do with the shootout?”
“Who in the family has heard about that?” Nic serves as a sort of de facto underboss while Fabien continues his residency at Club Fed.
“Not sure. But it was all over the local news.”
“Keep your ears open.”
“Sure, but boss, uh, there is some rumbling. Not about the shooting, but about the rumor of you phasing out the skin trade.”
“Who’s running his mouth now?” I sigh.
Nic goes down the list of aging capos. “They think you’re too concerned with your image.”
“The old guard needs to get with the times,” I say dismissively.
“We can make just as much money, if not more, through legal channels, with less potential for exposure.” Between the revolving door of girls, a diva of a madam, and family members being unable to keep their noses clean and their cocks in their pants, the prostitution ring is more trouble than it’s worth.
“That’s the issue, I suppose. Mafia old school versus businessmen and boardrooms.”
“Those things aren’t mutually exclusive,” I snap.
Nic holds up his hands. “Just relaying the information.”
“Very well. Call a family meeting. I want to make sure everyone’s on the same page.”
“You got it, boss.”
Remi
The family.
Mafia old school.
Boss.
Things go quiet, and I jerk my ear from the door and tiptoe sprint down the hallway.