31. Her Comes Binks Caselli
Her Comes Binks Caselli
Bianca
“On second thought, I’ll wait here.”
Benny’s hand lands on my shoulder. He turns me away from Aldo, who gets back in the car at his headshake. “You agreed, wife.”
“I choose the dungeon.” I grimace at the worn brick building towering over the street corner. Dark windows glimmer under a veil of moonlight, possessed by the spirits of whoever died inside.
I don’t consider myself a scary bitch, but where I come from, sketchy-ass warehouses are a nonstarter.
Benny’s lip twitches. “You scared?”
My eyes buck. “Duh! What gave you the impression I wouldn’t be? We’re in front of an abandoned building on an empty street.” If I see dirt bikes or a man on a horse, I’m gone.
Today was stressful enough. Now, Benny has us pulling up to see God knows who in a building with ghosts and roaches. I’m tempted to faint, just to go home.
“This is one of my shipping warehouses,” he says with a low chuckle, nudging me to move by the small of my back. “I own the block and the four surrounding it.”
“And that means what to me with the mafia convention inside?” I stare up at his handsome face, ready for a Cool Water commercial. “For all I know, it will end in a shootout.”
He folds his arms over his black suit that matches mine. His tailor rearranged his schedule for a last-minute fitting for me to look like the crime boss I’m not.
Benny bumps my shoulder. “I’m not in the mafia, Trouble. That’s all you, Binks Caselli.”
“Not too much on my name,” I warn. “I had to make something up on the fly, no thanks to a certain dickhead.”
My nickname around the neighborhood paired nicely with Menace Caselli’s, a forever book bae.
Jahquel J put her ass and both big toes into 10,000 Hours with a Rich Menace.
It’s only been 282 hours since I’ve been with mine, and I’m tempted to trade him in for a man who enjoys quiet hour and his toothpaste undefiled.
Benny is still very much on my shit list for signing me up to be a crime boss, but my desire to kick his dick through his chin slowly wanes. I enjoy his penis, and he seems remorseful.
He rubs the space between my brows, hand tats and rings on display. “Relax. You’ll be fine.”
My eyes flutter shut. “Says the man who’s been killing for decades. I’m not like you.”
“You’re better,” he says. “Just sit and observe anyone we should interrogate. Have you conducted a workplace investigation before?”
I scoff. “Of course.”
He shrugs. “So this will be a walk in the park, as you Americans say.”
“I’m not a mind reader,” I remind him.
“I trust your instinct.”
My eyes search his. “Why?”
His stare eases. “Because I follow my mine and it says to take your lead.”
Night air presses into my skin, heating under his gaze. Words of affirmation activate my heaux switch. I’m ready to pop, lock, and drop it on his premium dingaling hanging to the right in his pants.
An SUV pulls up next to our car and cuts the lights. The thing is a tank that looks like it can withstand four grenades, a thousand bullets, and a nuke. Andrea hops out with his deep waves and a fresh fade.
“Hey, cousin.” He’s been calling me the nickname since Benny put us on a call to map out my fake identity.
“Figured you’d want to complete your look. I brought you a few accessories.” He thumbs toward his truck.
I yelp at powerful arms pulling me into a firm chest. Benny’s voice is low. “Who’s the killer now? Come to me for your needs next time.”
Our lips are inches apart when I tilt my head. “You were in a meeting.”
He kisses the top of my braids. “I’m never too busy for you. Go on.” He bumps me with his hip. “Get your guns.”
Andrea hands me two Berettas and stuffs one into his waist. “They’re loaded and ready to go.”
“Do people get shot at these meetings?”
“Happens once or twice.” He closes the trunk and winks.
Knots the size of boulders form in my stomach. He better be joking.
“Ready, Binks?” Benny guides me into the shoulder holster Andrea provides. His brows slash as he adjusts the straps. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“I mean it.” He eyes me.
With a final look, I follow him into the creepy-ass warehouse with Andrea trailing us. Men with assault rifles flank the entrance with a receptionist.
“Bona sira,“ I say to the elderly woman, who smiles and presses a button to open the door.
“Still creepy?” Benny smirks at my eyes darting from the gold fixtures to polished concrete and modern wall paneling.
The conference room is the length of the floor. Andrea moves me behind him to take Benny’s right side. At least thirty men sit at a large marble table in the center of the room. Recessed lights shine from a mirrored ceiling to cast the edges of the room in shadows.
Benny’s commanding voice silences any discussions. His tone projects without him yelling, and I’d be lying if I said he didn’t look good as hell. He roams through the shadows cutting across his black hair and the sharp cut of his suit jacket as he speaks in Sicilian.
Thick fingers that have brought me pleasure grip the head chair he stands behind. Every eye in the room is on him.
He’s looking at me.
“We have a guest with us.” He switches to Italian. “Treat her with the same respect I demand.”
Heads swivel in my direction. My heart hammers in my chest. I want to run back to the citrus grove, where it’s safe, with snacks.
Also.
“This is a Black group?” I whisper to Andrea. Nothing but melanin is here.
“Go on.” He winks before taking the remaining seat at the other end of the table.
Benny pulls out his chair for me to sit in.
“This is Binks Caselli,” he says with a straight face, his fingers rolling over my shoulders.
The touch is subtle but eases my need to vomit.
“She is a don, my fiancée, and an extension of me. Answer her questions and show her respect. If you touch her, I’ll touch you. Questions?”
Silence.
He stands behind me the entire meeting, never once leaving my side. Conversations stay in Italian for me to follow. No one steps out of line or gives me a side glance to test him.
Seeing Benny in his element should be frightening.
Anyone at this table could blow a hole through my ass.
They won’t touch me because he won’t allow it.
That I’m contemplating wrapping my jaws around his nuts under the table proves I’m safe and delusional.
The power and protection emanating from him is sexy as hell.
I stand with Benny once the meeting adjourns, shaking hands and being introduced to the thirty men in the room. Many are older gentlemen who look skeptical about a woman don but keep their mouths shut. All give their congratulations on our upcoming nuptials.
The group dwindles to the top ten clans for a meeting about territories. Andrea takes me to a back room with a one-way mirror facing the conference area.
“How do you feel?” He bites into an arancini.
It’s clear he and Benny are close based on how often he pops up. A tapeworm might also be in his medical records. He’s always eating, but somehow packs away the food into the lean muscles he covers with tracksuits. Today’s ‘fit matches his dark-green high-tops.
“You don’t get exhausted meeting so many people at once?” A long soak in the tub is in my forecast.
He chuckles. “You’ll get used to it. Tonight was a meeting with the prominent Scilari clans in Sicily. They operate independently, but we’re part of the same network.”
“Why do they listen to Benny?” My eyes swing back toward him, leading the room with confidence and authority.
“We still need a leader. Your man doesn’t control individual clan operations but brings us together. He assumed the role after his uncle retired. If this were a traditional mafia, he’d be the don.”
The elevator doors open. Out steps the man who drugged me, in a black suit matching the others around the table. He nods at Benny and takes a seat.
“Who is that?”
“Luiggi?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s in enforcement,” Andrea explains. “He’s not big on meetings or the business side of our operations. You won’t see him much.”
“Now is too soon,” I mutter.
I’m getting my lick back.
Benny opens the door. “You okay?”
“Yes.” I resist the urge to swoon. In a room full of killers, he still takes the time to check on me.
He searches my face. “I’m wrapping up and will be ready in twenty.”
“Okay.” His long strides and good ass carry him back to the conference table.
“You got my man sprung,” Andrea snickers.
I arch a brow. “What do you know about sprung?”
He grins. “Black American culture is international. Turi and I went to universities in the States.”
“Is that why you look like an extra from Jersey Shore?”
“Nah.” Every tooth in his mouth is on display. “These are comfortable. I’m not like your man who can’t live without suits.”
“Benny is not my man,” I say to the one-way mirror and smile.
A short, gray-haired man clings to him. The top of his balding head barely reaches Benny’s chest. Benny couldn’t be more uncomfortable. His hands are in fists by his sides, his back is rod straight.
“In case you haven’t noticed, cousin, he’s different with you,” Andrea says next to me. “He’s never brought a woman to his home and would never bring an outsider into our organization. He’s softer, in a good way.”
“Don’t read more into the situation,” I say to Benny’s friend, searching for a love connection that isn’t there. I’m making the best of an international crime while enjoying sex and trying to stay alive.
“Think what you want, but I’ve known him since we were kids.”
“You grew up together?” I ask.
Andrea nods. “He moved to Gela to live with his uncle.”
“After his parents were killed,” I finish.
Andrea glances at Benny losing the battle to peel the elder off him. “Turi doesn’t talk about them anymore. You’re special, B.”
Benny’s eyes lift toward the mirror, exactly where I’m standing.
He’s a walking contradiction molded in strong cheekbones and tousled hair. He’s arrogant and an asshole most days, but has his moments when he’s caring—loving, even.
Not loving.
Attentive.
Affectionate.
My feelings for Benny have changed, but I won’t put my heart on the line with my life. Who falls in love with their kidnapper?
Not me.