CHAPTER FIVE #2
We forged an understanding with law enforcement decades ago. To make a long story short, it basically involves an agreement for us to keep crime at a minimum and work with them to wipe away any threats to citizens. And in return they turn a blind eye to some of our business deals.
For them it’s the lesser evil and makes work for both of us more tolerable; keeping the streets of California safer. Of course, it’s not flawless and we do have confrontations at times, but both sides know when to cut their losses and when to gain small wins.
“Agreed,” I snap in return, feeling the same amount of anger.
“This has been going on for a few weeks at least. Fredo should have been the first to know and reported his findings to us. By the time this shit hit our ears and with how long it’s been going on.
..it just reeks of him keeping it quiet from us. ”
“At this point we’re not trusting any type of information coming from that district,” Arturo states and swings his head into Leandro’s direction. “No offense, I’m sure Pepe is trustworthy, but we need to draw a line here.”
Leandro lifts his chin in acknowledgement.
“None taken, I fully agree. It’s too early to know who’s in on it or not.
They’re fucking playing with us if they think they can keep it under wraps.
Like Caterina mentioned, Fredo has the motivation and the abilities.
His floating casino has the right contacts and with his gambling addiction he’s developed by running the casino, he’s more prone to accept shady shit which allows him to obtain more cash and parties to feed said addiction. ”
“I’ve placed three soldiers of ours at strategic points and hope to have more information within a few days,” Arturo informs us.
“Good.” Standing, I place my palms on my desk and stare at Arturo. “That gives us time to settle with our future wives. I don’t have to remind you of the fact that you need to pick up yours from the airport later tonight.”
“Can’t. Fucking. Wait.” Arturo rubs his hands together.
“One more thing, boss. When I showed Mattia the pleasures of visiting a whorehouse last night, a few of them told me they were approached to come work for someone else. Something about lower work hours, high pay during parties with a little gambling on the side along with the necessary entertainment.”
“A little gambling on the side...sounds to me like this is the same gang, sticking their fingers into everything that makes cash flow,” Leandro states, and I have to agree with him.
“Do you have any details? Did they leave a number she could call if she wanted to accept?” Arturo shakes his head at my questions.
“He told her he’d be back later this week. He gave her, and a few of the others, a couple of days to think things through. The fucker promised more cash, less work, high-class clients, pretty clothes, that kind of big mountains, sunshine, and fairytales to lure them in.”
“Smart,” Leandro grumbles. “Not leaving a trail to contact them.”
I rub my fingers along the scruff of my jaw. “We need to know the second that fucker steps foot inside the whorehouse again.”
Arturo pats the pocket he keeps his phone in. “I was thinking the same thing and asked them to text me the second they recognized him.”
“Good,” I mutter and push off the desk.
“Shame, though,” Arturo says thoughtfully. “Now I have to disappoint all those women. I’m not the most wanted bachelor anymore. Wait, this doesn’t mean I can’t—”
“Dude,” Leandro snaps. “If you’re going to mention something about infidelity and taking a mistress or some shit within the first damn hour you got yourself a wife to be, I am gonna waterboard your ass. Have some respect.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest and assess both of them. Leandro has different values about marriage. His parents were monogamous, while in the mafia world it’s not uncommon with arranged marriages for the man to take on a mistress because the wife hates the man’s guts.
Arturo however might have a big mouth, but he has a shattered heart.
I know exactly why he jumped to the woman’s help and accepted her as his wife.
His mother was in an arranged marriage and his father was an asshole who abused her at every turn.
Not to mention, flaunt countless mistresses in her face.
It’s the reason why his mother killed herself.
I know damn sure he won’t do the same to his future wife, no matter how big his mouth is.
Arturo’s shoulders sag and he starts to rub the back of his neck.
“Not what I was going to say. Hell, I don’t even know why the fuck I rattled out that shit.
It’s early morning and stuff keeps piling up.
I’m going to head home and get some things in order, do some research like I mentioned I would, and get ready to pick up my future wife. ”
“I could handle collecting the information part Clemente requested if you want. This will allow you to have some time to yourself before life as you know it will change forever.” Leandro grabs Arturo’s shoulder and gives him a sympathetic squeeze.
“If I can give you a piece of advice...research your future wife. And if you have a problem with looking into her background? Talk to Rina. It’s her cousin.
She would be able to tell you all about her so you know what to expect and what she’s like.
Then you’d already be a few steps ahead of me, because if I could have a do-over?
I would research the fuck out of Rina before I faced her. ”
“Thanks, boss. Will do,” Arturo mutters.
We talk through a few other issues that need our attention. Even though I have a lot of people underneath me to handle everything, it still forces my hand to let every issue pass through me before a final decision is made.
My uncle was the head of the Famiglia before my father and I moved back here from living in Italy to take over the responsibilities.
He was the same way and rarely let capos do whatever the hell they want to do.
There always needs to be order. Every single person is different and so is leadership.
Though, within the Famiglia, we all have the same loyalty, respect, and standards.
And this is also something Fredo is throwing to the wind. Even if he comes to me now and comes clean, he’s a thorn I need to rip out. He’s disrespecting everything we stand for. I don’t care if his father was loyal to the bone or if a few other capos support him. Fredo needs to be dealt with.
The information Arturo was going to send me comes in late afternoon and I’m still going through it when someone is knocking on my office door.
Without looking up, I grumble, “Come in.”
A plate with delicious smelling lasagna is shoved between my face and the papers I was reading.
“You need to eat,” Rina says and I drag my gaze away from the delicious looking food.
“Trying to poison me already?” It’s my attempt to crack a joke, but it’s clearly not appreciated when I watch how her face turns into a blank mask.
“Then don’t eat my food. I’m going to retire for the evening. Good night.” She places the plate on my desk and I can barely wrap my fingers around her wrist to keep her pinned in place.
“Don’t go. It was a bad joke.” A sigh rips from my chest. “This smells delicious, did you make it?”
“Yes.” She gives a gentle tug on her arm and I reluctantly let her go. “After I had a great time with your sister and her friend, I came home to an empty house. You were still locked inside your office and cooking, next to yoga, relaxes me.”
She takes a seat across from me. With my desk in between us, I’d say we’re at a safe distance to have a normal conversation. If I can keep my foot out of my mouth that is.
I shove the file her way and take the fork to dive into the mouthwatering looking lasagna. “I was going over a few details about something that happened a few years ago. It involves Beck’s sister. Beck is—”
“A friend of Henley and Gracy. I met his wife, Flora, this afternoon. Gracy brought her along, she seems really sweet.”
“Beck went to prison a few years ago. Long story short, his sister, Ivy, was tortured, defiled, and almost killed by Dustin Soren, a drug dealer. Said drug dealer had a dispute with her ex, Daniel Sneyder, another drug dealer. Beck went to Daniel to get the info on who almost killed Ivy, but ended up in jail for assault when he kicked Daniel’ ass. ”
“What a mess,” Rina mutters and grabs the papers. “Wait, it says here both drug dealers were arrested.”
“Correct, except—”
“Dammit,” she snaps, cutting me off. “They’re both out.
Is this why it’s on your desk? Are they picking up where they left off?
Making waves in your territory? Oh, shit.
Do you think her ex will do something to Beck?
Or his sister...or maybe your sister since they are friends.
That’s it, right? You’re looking into it because it poses a possible threat for Gracy. ”
I’m still chewing my first bite of one hell of a delicious lasagna when she rattles out her thoughts.
I can’t help the smile itching to slide across my face.
She’s most definitely smart jumping to this conclusion and triggers the same questions that would pop into my brain while reading this information.
I swallow and nod, giving her my thoughts and concerns to see what her response will be.
“These two caused issues in the past. Dustin tortured and almost killed the sister of the man who is a friend of Gracy, Daniel was the reason. All of this was the reason why Beck ended up in jail along with it. I’m looking into it to see what I need to do, but killing both Daniel and Dustin would be an easy solution. ”
She glances through the papers before putting them into a neat pile and places them back on my desk.
I’ve eaten a few forkfuls of lasagna when she finally says, “I vote for killing them. How’s the lasagna?”
And the grin is fully blown onto my face.
This woman. Magnificent. She’s most definitely not a shy little mouse afraid of her own shadow.
Raised in a mafia world, women are shielded and yet they are aware of the violence within.
Most cringe away or act like it’s not there, yet this one?
Fully aware, accepting, and almost favors it when she agrees to my easy solution.
“Magnificent,” I huskily reply. “As is the woman who made it.”
One of her well-groomed eyebrows raises but she chooses to ignore my compliment when she says, “I’ll leave you to it. If you’re still hungry after you’ve finished your plate, there’s some more in the kitchen. Goodnight, Clemente.”
“Goodnight, Rina.” For sure as shit I add some huskiness to her name.
She’s almost at the door when she turns. “Why Rina? Why not Cat or my full name? No one calls me Rina.”
I point the fork in her direction. “And that’s exactly the reason why, Rina.”
She huffs and slips out the door. Yeah, we’re gonna get along just fine.