Dealer and his Bestowed Bride (The Rossi Family Mafia Book 2) (9 page)

I turned to Piper, "It's time to start this job."

Was I in some Orwellian nightmare, or did Luca and I actually have sex?
I wriggled in my bright red dress. It was form-fitting and just as uncomfortable as I was inside. I couldn’t believe I would have sex just to procrastinate for a job. Well, it wasn’t just out of procrastination. Deep down I realized we had a connection, but it was purely physical.
 

Luca walked next to me on the sidewalk, adjusting his own new outfit. He was wearing a fine Italian suit that probably cost more than I made last year. I didn’t even want to think about the designer dress and leather shoes that I was wearing. While the Mafia had been the men who forced me into an unwanted marriage, I had to give it to them that they knew how to dress.

The silence had been awkward since we had left the hotel. I could barely handle the tension between us, especially after we had been so close.

“So, maybe we should talk about what just happened back there?” I finally said.
 

Luca raised his eyebrows. “Trying to relive the moment, then?”

“No!” Damn it, the man put me on the defensive instantly. How could someone who was so attractive be that infuriating?
 

“What is there to talk about then?” he said, shrugging his wide shoulders.
 

“Whatever happened back there … It was a mistake. A fuck up. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure looked like it meant something to you.” he replied.
 

“Fuck you,” I grimaced at him. “I am a professional woman. From now on, our relationship will be strictly business.”

“Strictly business? What sort of business are you running, Piper Rossi? Is it connected to the adult industry, perhaps?”
 

I pushed him and he giggled at me. I glanced back at him sheepishly. Damn it, he was easy to screw around with, both in bed and out.
 

It was only a few minutes until we reached the garden. I was starting to get nervous, biting my bottom lip and adjusting my dress even if it was already situated perfectly.
 

It was a beautiful garden, even during the fall when the leaves were starting to turn orange on many of the trees. We weren't the only people there and I was afraid that we would stand out, but most other people were very well dressed, as I had noticed when Luca and I had walked around Florence earlier. I gripped Luca's arm, both to steady myself and look like the good wife the Mafia wanted me to be.

The cold was starting to settle in and I found myself shivering a bit.
 

"Hey," Luca said as we waited near the garden entrance. "Here, take my jacket." He started wiggling his jacket off of his suit and I shook my head.

"Put that back on," I said. For some reason, I didn't want him to help me, I didn’t want to rely on Luca for anything.
 

"Just put the damn thing on," he grumbled at me, placing the jacket on my shoulders despite my protests. Finally, I grumbled in defeat and pulled the clothing closer to me. Even though he had barely worn it, it smelled like him and I was brought back to the room.

The way he had touched me.

How he had kissed my breasts.

His cock inside of me.

No man had ever made me felt that way. When I smelled Luca, it was like I took some crazy drug that sent me into a fugue state. All I wanted was for him to touch me, something I hadn't wanted from a man in years.
 

It bothered me that I was so easily swayed by my own hormones. That a man sent me into a frenzy when I had to focus on getting a job done for the Mafia. If either of us got distracted and didn't follow through, we most likely wouldn't make it back to the states in one piece.
 

As I tried not to let the smell of Luca distract me, I glanced something in the side of my vision. A woman wearing a fine designer pant suit turned a corner toward the entrance of the garden. She was short, with long, curly hair that was beautifully pinned back from her face. Her lips were dark maroon - almost black and her eyes were covered by sunglasses even though it was nearing sunset.
 

She walked straight up to us and I could feel Luca freeze next to me. The woman had an air of respectability that surrounded her, something a high-ranking Mafia member might have.

"Hello. I see you were able to get here ON TIME."

Luca reached his hand out to shake hers and nodded, "Hello, my name is Luca—"

She lifted her finger sharply to her dark lips and hissed. "Shut up. Follow me." Her accent was very heavy and I could barely understand her. With that, she turned on her heel and started walking east, away from the lovely gardens and into the den of what I assumed was the Italian Mafia.
 

We followed the woman for more than 30 minutes, winding down streets, walking through businesses and then doubling back until we had no clue which direction we had come from. I didn't know if she was doing it on purpose. Although, if she didn't want us to know the location she could have just blindfolded us in a car. However, that didn't seem like the best first impression, even for the Mafia.
 

Finally, the woman ducked into a small restaurant that had a "closed" sign at the front. When we walked in, the smell of fresh Italian food hit our noses. The lighting was low and there were only a few tables in the entire place.
 

I could tell that the building was old, probably hundreds of years older than any of the buildings in New York. The woman turned and took off her sunglasses. Her eyes were almost black and shone in the light of the flickering candles placed on the tables.

"In the back," she said, stepping aside and motioning for us to go ahead of her. I looked at Luca, who did the same to me.

"Ladies first," he said. I gave him a glance that said “I am not amused”. In any case, I gave him a huff and lifted my head high. This was my chance to show that I wasn't afraid of the high-up bosses in the Italian Mafia. I was my own woman and I had changed since my last job.

At least, so I hoped.
 

There was a curtain of velvet that was hanging to separate the front room from the back room. My hand pushed the fabric aside and I ducked into the small, dark room.

Three men sat before me. Two stood, both in Italian suits, both twice the size of me. There was a man sitting at a small, round table eating a bowl of pasta. When I walked into the room, he didn't even glance up. Rather, he took the time to dab the side of his mouth on the white napkin.
 

He was a middle-aged man, slightly overweight, but still strong looking. He was starting to bald, but cut his hair short so that it wasn't too apparent. Unlike the men standing over him, his clothing was more casual. A bright red polo and slacks would do for him. While he was dressed casually, there was no questioning who was in charge.
 

Finally, the man set his fork and knife down and smiled up at me.
 

"Sei bellissima!" He stood up and stepped toward me, his arms out to give me a huge bear hug. I accepted it, not without wincing. However, I tried to put on my best face. Luca, who was close behind me, didn't seem at all surprised by the Mafia boss’ friendly nature and gave him a firm handshake.

"Ah, I am so happy you made it safe. How was your flight?"

I glanced at Luca and he nodded to me, giving me the floor. I straightened myself, "It was lovely. Thank you very much for the opportunity to come meet you."

"Sweet too, what a catch." he gave me a sly grin and motioned his arm in a large arc. "Please, sit down, my mother is making food for us tonight."

"Your mother?" Luca asked, impressed.
 

"The best chef in Florence, I come and visit her every month just to get a taste of her food."

"You don’t live in Florence?" I asked.

"Naples," he said, taking a seat.
 

One of the Mafioso’s pulled up a chair for me and I took a seat with as much grace as I could muster in the form fitting dress.
 

"Yes, Father talked often about visiting Naples," Luca said, taking a seat next to me.
 

"Poor man, Naples is a shit-hole ..." he paused, looking into space for a moment. After being momentarily distracted, he looked at us once more. "Forgive me, I never introduced myself. I am Franco. In America, where you are from, they call me Frank. You may also."

"Great to meet you, Frank," Luca replied.
 

"Excuse me, Mr. Franco … Frank," I spoke up, my heart beating like crazy in my chest. I cleared my throat. "Thank you so much for bringing us here. We are very honored. But I think we are still interested to hear why we are here."

Franco sighed, it looked like me talking had brought him away from the friendly side of things and into the business world. No, the world of crime.
 

"Straight to the point, aren't you?" he chuckled.

"She's a firecracker, alright," Luca winked at me. I tried to kick at him under the table, but he grabbed my leg before I could connect with him. Luckily, Franco didn't seem to notice our little fight.
 

"Get us the wine," Franco told one of the guards, "And tell mother these two are ready for her lovely meal."

He grunted in Italian and then quickly disappeared into a side door. After a few awkward moments, he reappeared with a bottle and served all three of us a healthy glass of white wine.
 

"Cheers," Franco said. "To your health."

"Cheers," Luca and I said in tandem. The glasses clinked and I sipped at the wine, hoping to God that it would calm my nerves.
 

"For years, it has been said the Italian Mafia is a dying breed in the underworld," Franco placed his glass down on the table, then turned it by the stem, watching as the wine sloshed back and forth in his glass. "Many things have changed since the great depression. The game has changed. Many men around me have not been … so quick to change old ways. Old farts."
 

"When I first met your father, Luca, I knew I had met someone with a fire lit under his ass. He put the Mafia back on the map in the states. Everyone looks up to his business savvy over here. All the men I know want to kiss his ass."

"Thank you, sir," Luca said. "I'm very proud of what my father has achieved. I would be lucky to be as successful and as good of a man as him."

Luca did seem to know all the right words to say. I believed his sincerity, even if I knew how he acted behind closed doors.
 

"No problem. While other men are kissing your father's ass, I decided to make a deal with him. Start a … partnership."
 

"Partnership?" Luca looked slightly uncomfortable. "That's very unlike him."

"Trusting people is difficult. It has always been so. But, there is an old way of bringing two families together." He grinned and lifted his arms up, his palms out. "Marriage!"

Luca and I stole a glance at each other.
 

"Is … Piper your daughter?" Luca asked.

"I sadly do not have children," Franco said. "Piper, however, has worked for us many times in the past. She owes a lot to the Mafia...."

It felt like someone kicked me in the stomach. I tried to appear as if his words didn't bother me, but they were like poison. Whenever I was reminded of my prior job, I felt like I was on the verge of an anxiety attack. I had taken this job for the money, but somehow Franco thought I owed more than that. He thought I owed him my life. My hands gripped the fabric at the sides of my dress.

"In any case, we have given one of our best to your family. And your father has given his most clever son to me. Isn't bringing people together beautiful?"

"Is there anything specific that you are tasking us with?"

Franco nodded. "Si. While you are here on your honeymoon, I do need one thing. There is a gala being run this week. It is a fashion show and I would like you to appear as a couple."

He reached into his pants pocket and brought out a card, then leaned over to give to Luca.

"Luca Rossi … owner of Garnet?"

"You are now the owner of multiple clubs in Europe. Like your job before, you are to be laundering money for us. Garnet, which is a new club opening soon, will be your first project."

I raised my eyebrows. "Garnet like the jewel?"

"I don't know, I had other people come up with the brand. Our last Florentine club had … an accident. I need someone, a businessman with a good head on his shoulders to run this one. I trust your father. I trust your family and I trust our bond by marriage." Franco motioned to me and I forced a smile.

"So we just show up at this party?" Luca asked. "Doesn't sound that bad."

"Yes … well ..." Franco took another swig of his glass, this time it was much more than a sip. "It's a little more complicated than that."

"Complicated?" I asked, trying not to freak out. The way the man talked, most likely replacing the word "murder" with "accident", I was not looking forward to what the “complication” was.

"One of our men from the United States. He's become a bit rebellious," the man looked like there was a horrible smell under his nose. "He has opened up his own clubs to compete with ours. He took many of my men with him. Instead of allowing us to take a percentage of the revenue, he's told us to come get it."

"Why would he do such a thing?" Luca asked.

"Because he has a large group of the Milan Mafia on his side. Scum."

"As you do business for us, you will find that you need to deal with competitors. I hope both of you are able to put your heads together and find a way to stop him from stealing our players, without causing a gang war to break out in Italy. This job is the most important. Kill him and more responsibility will open up for you"

Chills ran down my spine.
 

"Is he going to be at the gala?"
 

"Yes," Franco said, then stared at me, giving me a small, sad smile. "His name is Robert Georgeson."