Chapter 15
Matteo
Walking into The Devil’s Playground, I head toward the VIP suite. At noon on a Thursday, there won’t be many people here, so Max and I won’t have to hold up in the security office.
“Matteo.” Max lifts his arm to show me he’s here before waving me over. “You made it without much traffic?”
“Yes. We got here in less than two hours. I think that’s a record for driving anywhere near D.C.” I chuckle. Owen, one of Anthony’s men, drove so I could focus on my laptop during the trip.
When Max called, stating he’d stumbled on a few more posts, I decided to make haste to see him. Luckily, he’s pretty easy going, working from anywhere, given his laptops are downloaded with the most up-to-date cybersecurity software. Half of which he invented.
“Hi, Matteo. Can I bring you something? A mineral water or something to eat?” Cassidy asks as I drop into the chair closest to Max. She’s worked here long enough to know better than to offer alcohol to me. Hell, there are days I wonder if Giovanni has included an 8 x 10 glossy of me in the new hire paperwork with instructions never to serve me anything but water.
“Hi, Cass. Yes. A still water and a cup of coffee would be great. Thank you.”
“Yes, sir.” She heads out of sight, but not before I catch Max giving her the once over. Hmm. Wonder what’s going on there?
Leaning a bent elbow on an armrest of this buttery soft, black leather chair, I gaze about the club. This place is pure class. Giovanni had a vision when he opened The Devil’s Playground, and he executed it flawlessly.
Located in an industrial district just outside of Washington, its obscure industrial facade masks the opulence of the interior of the building. There are a few other nightclubs and restaurants in the area, but this location blends into the background if you aren’t sure what to look for. And anonymity is essential with clubs of this nature.
The building’s main floor houses multiple bars, group seating, a dance floor, and a stage for entertaining. There’s an open viewing area along the second floor. This space offers a location for patrons who want to be able to have an actual conversation. I can’t begin to imagine the many shrewd business deals that have been completed here.
The lavish club is well-appointed, with plush leather furnishings, decadent lighting, and jaw-dropping artwork. But none of the decor compares to the women. The sultry, seductive sirens of The Devil’s Playground are like no other sex club I’ve ever visited.
Girls from different nationalities—tall, short, curvy, thin, blonde, brunette, or redhead. You name it, and you’ll find someone who meets your fancy. While some are strictly here as eye candy, others will gladly entertain in the more private areas of the club. While it’s not uncommon for an attractive server to sit on your knee and flirt a bit, this isn’t the type of place where you get a fifty-dollar lap dance while your friends hoot and holler.
My eyes roam the luxurious space. Every time I enter, I’m more and more proud of my cousin for bringing this private club to life. Everything about it is made for sin.
“So, you said you’d seen some more chatter?”
Max lifts his clear, bubbly drink to his lips. In the short time I’ve known him, I’ve found him to be a straight shooter. He’s likely drinking seltzer and lime. He’s an accomplished man, but unlike a few of his billionaire buddies, he’s not flamboyant about it. And don’t get me wrong, I know there’s no dearth of women. But he’s pretty private about his exploits.
Max Wilde is probably the smartest guy I’ve ever met. And given most of the men Giovanni surrounds himself with are self-made billionaires, that’s saying something.
“From what I can gather, it appears Vincenzo Messina and his brother Romeo are heading to Rome to accept a package.” Max puts air quotes around accept a package.
“Weapons? Drugs?”
“This one looks more suited for their high-end brothels.”
“Ah. Sex trafficking. The vile asshole.”
Max’s eyes connect with mine. “Yes. Exactly.”
Cassie brings my drinks, leaning down to place them on the small table in front of us.
“Thank you.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Trust me, Max. If it were up to me, I’d find a way to ruin every avenue of my father’s business. The first of which would be the sex trafficking. But I think that’s going to be a much harder area to infiltrate than the drug and arms dealers.”
“You’re absolutely right. And the day you decide to take him down on that front, I wouldn’t mind being along for the ride.”
My brows shoot up to my hairline in surprise. Max seems much more comfortable fighting wars on this side of a computer screen. Honestly, I’ve spent too long doing the same. If I want to seriously try to put an end to my mafioso father’s businesses, I need to get a closer look at his dealings. Learn where they typically occur. All of the locations, so I can learn the lay of the land. How far in advance does he schedule the transfers into Italy? Does he always work with the same criminal faction? Ultimately, I need to determine how many people he brings with him, so I can best plan how to combat his men.
While I learned a lot working with him before I left for the states, he rarely took me anywhere serious smuggling deals were going down. Not out of protectionism. The only person my father carried about safeguarding was himself. I suspect it was out of fear my inexperience would be a fly in the ointment. He wasn’t willing to risk something transpiring which would cost him money in his efforts to train me.
Once I have a better feel for his operations, I can lean on D’angelo’s team. But I won’t get very far depending on others. I need to learn how Vincenzo operates firsthand. I lift my coffee, taking a sip of the rich, robust beverage. Now, this is coffee. Not that swill at the body shop that looks and tastes like motor oil.
“My cousin D’angelo, could possibly meet me in Rome. He’s a private investigator who works in espionage in the UK. Manchester. He’s also helping to track my father’s activities.”
Max raises a curious brow.
“He’s a Bianchi.” Yes, no defectors on the Messina side of the family. None that I’m aware of, anyway. Sadly enough, that includes my brother, Nico. “Dan’s dad and my mother were siblings.”
Max tilts his head, likely confused at my choice of words.
“They’re both gone now.”
“Hell, Matteo. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” I take a sip of my water, memories of losing my mother still bring a lump to my throat. “I trust Dan. He’s a good man.”
“Good. Just let me know if he finds anything I should dig into.”
Depositing my drink on the table, I look back at the screen. But it’s honestly a mish mash of symbols I don’t begin to understand. “Did they give a date? When this package is supposed to arrive.” I mimic his air quotes.
“Nothing concrete. Doesn’t sound like it’s immediate. I’ll keep my eye on it. If anything develops, I’ll try to send some encrypted screen shots of what I find to Giovanni. Then he can translate and share with you.”
Max sits back, stroking his stubbled jawline. “He’s so busy with the high rollers here, I try not to involve him in anything I have questions about. There’s no doubt he’d drop everything if it were important, but sometimes it’s hard to tell with the language barrier if I’m misreading something. So, I feel more comfortable coming to you.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I nod my agreement. This man has my respect. That he’d work so hard on this for us, never wanting to burden Giovanni needlessly. It’s no wonder G wants to ensure he has a lifetime membership here. He’s right. It’s the very least our family can do. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing for us.”
“No thanks needed. I consider it my way of putting good back into the world.”
Leaning back in my chair, I eye him skeptically. His statement is more than a little obscure. He must note my bewilderment.
“Between us, I relate to what your family is going through more than you think.”
My forehead scrunches at his statement. Not sure how it’s possible he can relate to our evil upbringing. This guy looks like the typical rich white guy. He graduated from MIT as a young man, and built his first million before he was twenty. Not a whole lot in common there.
“I spend most of my days making sure my mother doesn’t suffer a similar fate to yours. My sister disappeared as a teenager. She left her dorm to go to class and vanished. Poof. No one’s seen her since.” His head falls. “For the last ten years, it’s as if she never existed.”
“Fuck, Max.”
“Yeah. Not many people know about it.”
“G?”
“Yes. But I swore him to secrecy. I’ve spent every second of every day since she went missing trying to find ways to locate her. Well, missing persons in general, I guess. Many of the security apps I’ve created were to keep other young people from suffering the same fate.”
“Hell, Max. You know if there’s ever anything I can do—”
“Thanks. Helping you and your cousin take down your father or anyone else involved in the buying and selling of human beings is my top priority. I have no proof, but for the last decade my gut tells me that’s what happened to her.”
What a small world. And not in a good way. “How’s your mom doing now?”
“It’s a daily struggle. My father didn’t handle it well. He had a stroke. He’s not with us anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. There’s a lot of collateral damage that happens when evil puts its tentacles out there. “Mom has turned into quite the recluse. She won’t leave the house unless I force her. And then I have to make sure she has some type of sedative on board. She’s convinced if she leaves, Ella will come home, and she’ll miss her.”
I drop my head into my hands. This poor woman. If there’s a silver lining to my mother’s untimely death, at least she didn’t have to live through Antonia’s kidnapping.
“But I was able to find virtual therapy.”
My head springs up. “What’s that?”
“It’s like having her own private therapist on call, but she handles appointments and urgent needs online.”
“Like with a video chat?”
“Yes. Exactly. Hell, in the post COVID world we live in, they have it for most everything now. For work from home, college courses, doctor visits, mental health, drug and alcohol rehab.”
That’s the ticket. This could be the answer I was looking for. I need to do some research and get an appointment scheduled as soon as possible. Because if they can help me stay dry, I can keep Sydney safe.