Dealer and his Bestowed Bride (The Rossi Family Mafia Book 2) (15 page)

There were booths up on the second floor, private, where it seemed anything could happen. There was also a small booth, where the lighting designer could control the color and beat of the lights in the club. It was all state of the art equipment. As I opened the door to the small booth, instead of finding the sound tech, I found Piper.

She was looking over the gun that had been provided to her. Gun, actually, seemed like an understatement. It was a high-powered rifle that would probably turn any man's head into an explosion of brains and bits of skull. The woman’s hands moved over it like it was a lover and for a few seconds I was jealous. I shook my head at the thought of being envious over a piece of metal.

"How's it going?" I asked, leaning on the door.

"Oh, you know," she said, trying to be casual. I glanced at her hands, they were shaking. Piper was as pale as a sheet.

"You know, you don't have to be here," I said. "We can have someone else keep an eye on Robert when he arrives."

Piper sighed, placing her gun down against the board of the electronic equipment. "Close the door."
 

I crept into the room, then slowly closed the door behind me with a soft thud. She motioned me closer, her eyes wider than usual. I knelt next to her, our faces close enough that I could hear her breathing.

"If shit goes down," she said, her voice just a whisper, "if things get crazy … let's just run."

"What?" I asked, my voice was a bit too loud for her, so she shushed me and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me in with some force.
 

"If things go south with Rob, I say I kill him and we ride the next train out of here."
 

"Piper, they'll find us and skin us alive if we do that."
 

She pursed her lips. "All we have to do is get to an area controlled by another mob, if we can do that … we can hop on a plane and disappear. Maybe South East Asia?" Piper reached into her jacket pocket. In it, she had both of our passports, both had been placed in our hotel safe when we arrived. I didn’t realize she had the combination for the lock.

"I don't think—"

"It's the worst case scenario, but at least we have all of our bases covered, right? That way, we aren't setting Florence on fire for a Mafioso piece of shit."

I rubbed my fingers against my forehead and then took my passport from her. "Fine."
 

She seemed to like that and if it gave her peace of mind, then that was alright with me. However, I doubted we would be able to run from the Mafia for very long and live. What she didn't know was that I'd burn the entire city of Florence down to get what I wanted from Rob.
 

We looked at each other in the dark booth for a second. We were married, had fucked multiple times, but there was still something that kept us nervous whenever we got close. My stomach was in knots, wondering if I should kiss her or touch her or fuck her. Finally, I just decided to screw it, if things went wrong, I wanted Piper to know how I felt about her.

What I felt, however, couldn't be summed up in words. I leaned in and kissed her, my hand cupping her cheek, her skin felt like silk against my rough palms. She kissed me back, leaning into me. We didn't have time to get hot and heavy, but I wanted to taste her before I went back down to the club. I wanted to know that she didn't have to fear anything. It was a lot of thoughts to fit into a small kiss.

When we parted, our faces stayed close together, foreheads touching. We stayed like that for a few moments, enjoying each other in the darkness of the booth.
 

The door flung open, making both of us jump. Piper reached for her gun.

"Che cavolo?" The Italian man exclaimed, jumping back. He wore brightly colored clothes, glasses indoors and was carrying some lighting equipment in one hand.
 

"Oh, yes, sorry about that—um ... mi dispiace."

Piper placed the gun down as she realized the man was the one who worked in the box.
 

"You're the new boss?" the man asked, his voice sounded like he had been drinking or doing some sort of drugs. I didn't quite mind, sometimes my workers back in the States were their most productive when under the influence. However, the man who worked the box also had to share it with Piper. I eyed her and she seemed to understand, she would have to be on her guard.
 

"My name is Luca," I said, "It's very nice to meet you. Are you the tech?"
 

"Yes sir, we were told yesterday that you'd arrive. I am to help you in any way I can."

"Very good," I said. "This is Piper, she will be sharing the box with you tonight."

"Great," he reached out to shake her hand and she took it. He seemed professional and up for the challenge of sharing the small room with an armed woman.

"I'm going to go talk the the men downstairs. Will you two be alright up here?" I asked. Piper looked at me with pleading eyes, not wanting to be alone with a dope who was high as a kite.

"Cool. If you need anything from me, please do not hesitate to ask."
 

With a nod toward both of them, I turned on my heel and headed toward the stairs. I heard the tech talking to Piper, asking her what her spirit animal was. I rolled my eyes and went on my way.
 

The guards on the ground floor were huge men, all hand-picked by Franco. There would be two at the door, two at the bar serving drinks and keeping an eye on things, three amongst the crowds of people, wearing casual clothes and dancing with girls, and another two at the emergency exit in the back. There were enough men that I felt like we could take on whatever they threw at us.

It was getting late. The sun had set and the doors opened to the public. I paced a bit and eventually walked over to the bar to grab a drink to calm my nerves. I glanced up at the second floor loft and the box that overlooked the dance floor. Even if I couldn't see through the dark glass, I knew Piper was there. I hoped she was ready.
 

I hoped I was ready.
 

Men and groups of women starting trickling in, grabbing drinks at the bar, enjoying themselves. The music started bumping and the first DJ eased the crowd into a first set. The light show matched the name of the club. Red and magenta lights flickered and moved throughout the space. For some reason, the color made an uneasy feeling grow in the pit of my stomach.
 

Garnet. The color of blood.
 

I threw back my drink and placed it on the bar, watching the entrance. Now we were playing the waiting game.
 

It was another hour until the bartender came over to me and leaned in to speak. "There's a suspicious vehicle in front of the club, we think it may be him."

I nodded curtly and he went back to making cocktails. Straightening myself, I motioned to the box above, hoping that Piper had her eyes on me. She was the perceptive type and I hoped to God she had her eyes pealed. I would need her backup if shit hit the fan.

What if shit went sideways? Would that be so bad? As I walked away from the bar and toward the entrance, I wondered if running away with Piper would be the better option. If we left with our lives, we could enjoy each other's company on a beach in some third-world country. Away from the worries of the world and the Mafia.
 

Before I could ponder the subject any longer, the doors to the club burst open. Robert stood, confident and smug in the entry way. Behind him, were thugs. Lots of them. They followed Robert into the club like dogs following their owner. From the looks of it, they were looking for an excuse to bite.
 

Quickly, I kicked into gear and walked over to the man. My enemy. The guy who had man-handled Piper and tried to knock my lights out. I was going to walk up to that man with my tail between my legs and kiss his ass for the Mafia.
 

"Robert," I said, my arms wide open. He glared at me, not saying a word. His men were tense, their hands readied, probably to grab their hidden weapons if need-be.
 

I took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about the other night."

"Yes?" he raised an eyebrow.
 

"We got off on the wrong foot. I had no idea Piper and you had a past and reacted without getting all the information."

His eyes narrowed.
 

"I've since talked to Piper and we would both like to talk with you. We have something in common. You know how Piper feels about the men from Naples, and I stand by her in all things, as her husband."

Perhaps it was a mistake to remind him that I was Piper's partner. His nostrils flared in anger and I watched as he puffed himself up, trying to make himself look like a formidable foe. I tried to ignore it.

"Here," I said, stepping aside and waving my arm toward the couches and chairs that were in the corner. "Let us talk more privately."

His men looked to Robert, wanting to follow his lead. After some consideration, the man agreed to come with me. I felt relieved, at least something I said worked out. The fact that no one had drawn a weapon was a good sign that we'd make it through the night.
 

We all walked back to the couches and sat down. I took a seat in a large armchair and hoped to God that I wasn't sitting on something sticky.
 

As soon as our butts hit the plush cushions, a bartender came over to ask what we wanted to drink. The guards all nodded, mostly getting vodka or other liquors. However, Robert shook his head, no. Sliding something into his drink would be out of the question.
 

The bartender and I stole a glance at each other as I ordered my drink. We had come up with a system before the club opened its doors. If I wanted them to spike the drinks, I'd order a Campari soda. If not, I would have a whiskey.
 

"Whiskey, on the rocks please," I said.

"So why the fuck shouldn't I beat your face in?" Robert said, leaning back into the couch.
 

"First off, that wouldn't be very polite. Secondly, I think we can help each other. You say you have a few clubs around here?"

"In Italy, France, and Germany," he said with a shrug.
 

"How much product are you running from those businesses?" I asked casually. All of them looked at each other, like it was some secret that their clubs were a front for the drug trade.

"We run respectable businesses," Robert said, tilting his head to inspect me. "I don't know what you are talking about." His voice was flat, a warning for me.
 

"Ah," I reached into my pocket for my second option. I looked around, making sure no one could see what I was about to show them. The men tensed, reaching for their guns. "Hey. No need. I don't want blood on the leather," I said.
 

Robert gave a wave and they stood down. I took my hand out of my jacket pocket, throwing a small bag of white powder onto the coffee table. All of the men looked at it with wide eyes.
 

"This is our product. Unbelievably pure. I have a connection in South America. No fucking middle men."
 

I took out my own packet, this one being pure cocaine, and placed a small amount in the space between my thumb and my finger. I snorted it, hoping that Robert would follow suit with the packet I had thrown his way.
 

His packet, well—it had cocaine in it, but a good snort of it would probably send him to the hospital in a matter of minutes. I also was hoping that if he had some, the rest of his men would partake. If so, we could blame the entire event on a bad batch of cocaine sending men into cardiac arrest.
 

I waited for him to grab the bag, but he didn't move a finger. Neither did his cronies.
 

"If you want to, we could partner. My men in the Americas could help you get a leg up here. With better product, we can make the Naples Mafia obsolete" I said, sniffing and rubbing my nose from the pain of snorting something up it. I could feel the rush of the drug and hoped that I could still stay grounded while high. I certainly had the experience.

It was a small price to pay to have him try the cocaine, but it didn't seem like the plan was working. Robert was just leaning back in his chair, watching me.
 

"What's in it for you?"
 

"I just opened up in Italy," I motioned around the club. "I don't have the street knowledge you do. If I get you the product you need, I would ask for help in distribution."

Robert nodded his head, looking like he was thinking about it. Then, he pointed to one of his men. "See if that shit is what I think it is."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
 

Robert threw the baggie to one of his men. The large brute emptied the entire thing onto the coffee table in between us, then pulled out a credit card. He organized the white powder into three piles, then rolled up a large bill and snorted a line.
 

"Wheew!" The man threw his head back, wincing as he tried to snort it all quickly. "I've never had no cocaine like that, boss."
 

I spoke up. "I know it's difficult to find good cocaine here in Europe. The stuff I’ve been seeing on the street is garbage. Maybe you should try some.” I motioned to Robert.
 

There wasn't much time left. I knew that the drugs were hitting the thug’s system and we would know how he reacted within five minutes.

The man frowned, "Oh, I believe you."

I smiled as though it made me feel better that he trusted me, but inside I was dying. The cocaine running through my veins wanted to force the powder into his face, but I tried to be as calm as humanly possible. Everything was going to be alright.
 

"Maybe, we should talk about the terms somewhere less … loud?" I asked, hoping to God that I could get him away from the ticking time bomb of a man who sat next to him.

"We can stay here." Robert said. He was calm, his eyes throwing daggers at me. Something was not right.