Impossible Odds: A Mafia Romance (The Five Families Book 4)

by Jill Ramsower

  The man clutched my shirt and pressed his mouth close to my ear, gun still trained against my head from behind. “Last time I’m telling you, puto. Get in the fucking car.”

  A thud sounded behind me, and the man collapsed into a puddle at my feet. I spun around to find Edoardo Genovese with a brick in his hand and wrath on his face.

  “Fucking pigs, think they can come into our territory and push us around.” He kicked my assailant in the back, far harder than I would have thought the older man capable.

  Realizing the attack had been thwarted, the man in the car sped off, leaving his associate unconscious on the ground.

  Edoardo pulled out his phone and called for the man to be collected and detained, then dialed who I assumed to be his brother, Enzo.

  “We have a problem. The cartel is already making their move against Primo—we need to address this now before it touches Giada or anyone else … Be there in ten.” He slid his phone back in his coat pocket and finally acknowledged my presence. “It’s a good thing hospital parking sucks.”

  I huffed out a relieved chuckle. “I appreciate the help; I should have been paying better attention.”

  He lifted his chin, not about to argue. “As much as I’d like to go up and see my daughter, this is more urgent. Enzo and his wife have a hotel room here by the hospital. We’re heading over there to sort this shit out.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I was in the living room of a hotel suite with half a dozen mafia men, including Matteo and a couple of his soldiers. Enzo gave a brief explanation of the situation, then directed everyone’s attention to me.

  “What can you tell us about the cartel presence in the city?” It was so much more than a question, and I could feel it in every calculating stare. This was the moment when I chose sides, and whatever I decided, there would be no going back. In my mind, I’d already made the commitment, but these men didn’t know that. This was my opportunity to prove my allegiance.

  “Juan Carlos Vargas is Nazario Vargas’s brother. He moved to the city three years ago to start infiltrating the territory.”

  The room stirred with shifting bodies and startled intakes. These men had no idea such a powerful enemy had been amassing an army right beneath their noses.

  “The port access Nazario needed to receive his shipment was only the first of his plans to start running drugs along the East Coast in a systematic expansion down to Miami. The initial shipment, worth ten million, was a sort of trial run with a new supplier. He needed the transaction to go smoothly in order to gain the supplier’s trust and gain more business with him. While we supplied much of our own product on the West Coast, it was more cost effective to outsource production for the East Coast.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Edoardo cut in. “Did he honestly think we’d allow him to continue doing business in the city after he’d kidnapped my daughter?”

  “He believed the leverage of a hostage was necessary to negotiate a permanent foothold in the city, which he planned to demand after his initial shipment arrived. It doesn’t necessarily make sense, but nor did his expansion. I did what I could to make him see reason, but he was hell-bent on seeing his schemes actualized. One of the biggest problems was that Juan Carlos was feeding him questionable intel and encouraging the delusions of grandeur. I think Juan Carlos may have been hoping something exactly like this would happen, and he’d inherit the empire.”

  “And what kind of force did he have in place to move that large of a shipment?” Enzo asked.

  “At first, it was only him. Little by little, he brought in men and moved people quietly so his actions wouldn’t make waves. He’s been making connections and learning the climate in the city and neighboring states over the past three years. Nazario wanted to use New York to connect his Kansas City distribution channel with his designs on the East Coast, making a complete circuit through the US.”

  Enzo nodded sagely as if nothing I said was news to his ears, even though I knew it was. “Now that Nazario is dead, what do you expect Juan Carlos to do?”

  “First, he’ll need to go back to Mexico to ensure no one else tries to usurp his leadership position. Once he has established his rule, he’ll continue with his brother’s work. He was a firm believer in the expansion mission, which was why he volunteered to move his family to the front lines.”

  “Family?” asked Matteo.

  “He’s got a wife and daughter, but I doubt they’d be much use as leverage. He’s not as devout a family man as he portrays himself to be.”

  “Exactly what kind of man is he?”

  “Ruthless. Egotistical. Intelligent but lacking foresight. He and I have never gotten along, so I’m sure he’ll be eager to watch me die.”

  Enzo stood and walked to the window, fingers smoothing his salt-and-pepper beard. “I suspect he believes you’re an easy target. A fish out of water. I suggest we confront him directly while he’s still disoriented over his brother’s death—address both his infringement on our territory and his attack on you.” He turned and held my gaze. “You know where he lives?”

  “I do.”

  This time Enzo looked at Matteo. “You’re welcome to join us or not. I understand that this isn’t your fight.”

  “Are you going to explain to Maria why I stayed home while her father and uncle confronted the cartel? Our families are united. I have no intention of allowing you to face this kind of threat alone. Let’s get this done before she finds out and insists on joining us.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to just include her from the beginning?” asked Enzo wryly.

  “Probably, but it’s still not happening.”

  Enzo chuckled and shook his head. “It’s been a pleasure knowing you.”

  Subdued laughter lightened the atmosphere in the room as we packed up and prepared to confront the enemy. It took over an hour to drive to Juan Carlos’s house on Staten Island. I rode with Enzo and his brother while the rest followed in two more cars.

  “I can’t believe he’s been living five goddamn miles from my house for the past three years, and I had no idea.” Enzo strangled the life from the steering wheel when we parked out front of our destination.

  “Actually, he’s only been in this house since August, so about six months. And he’s been intentionally flying under the radar so he wouldn’t be noticed. It’s not your fault you didn’t know he was so close.”

  “Moving into my backyard could hardly be considered flying under the radar.”

  “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Plus, I think it was a statement. His proximity was meant to show you that you weren’t invincible.”

  “The message has been well received. Intelligence efforts will have to be reassessed in the coming months,” he growled.

  The house wasn’t gated, so we didn’t have to worry about security until we arrived at his front steps. Two armed men stepped from the house, hands on their weapons. It was after eight by the time we arrived. Early, but not so early that everyone would still be asleep. Our appearance would certainly jumpstart their day.

  Enzo stepped forward. “Tell your boss Enzo Genovese is here to speak with him.”

  The men exchanged glances before one slipped back inside the house. A few minutes later, Juan Carlos stepped outside, flanked by his two guards. At only forty-two years old, he was far younger than his brother but had cultivated a well-honed shield of impassivity. Every detail of his posture and manner dripped with dispassionate indifference. If he was unaffected by our presence, it elevated him in the power equation; however, his bravado was a show. Two of the most powerful men in the country stood on his doorstep—only a fool would disregard the dangers.

  Juan Carlos was many things, but he was no fool.

  “Gentlemen, to what do I owe this honor?”

  “I understand you’ve been in the city some time now,” Enzo began, “but it seems we’ve never been properly introduced. My name is Enzo Genovese, and this is my brother, Edoardo. We are here with Matteo De Luc
a and several of our associates on behalf of the Lucciano and Gallo families. You are familiar with those names, Mr. Vargas?”

  “I am.”

  Enzo smiled. “Excellent. Then you should be familiar with the fact that this is our city. Our state. And we don’t take kindly to people infringing on our business here. I certainly wouldn’t hang a shingle south of the border and disrupt your operations, and I would expect the same courtesy in return. As it stands, your family has kidnapped and assaulted one of ours on top of infiltrating our city and disrupting business. Tell me, would you tolerate that type of treatment?”

  Juan Carlos swallowed, a small glitch in his serene mask. “I was actually just preparing for my flight back to Mexico. You may have heard; my brother was murdered yesterday.” His eyes briefly strayed from Enzo to glare at me.

  “Yes, I imagine you have many matters to attend to back home. The thing is, once those affairs are settled, you need to understand that your presence will no longer be overlooked, and any interference in our operations will be addressed in full force. As for your choice of homes, I doubt there was anything coincidental about your proximity to my own home. I expect a for sale sign up immediately.” Enzo strolled over to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You should also know that this man is under our protection. Any attack or slight on him will be seen as a direct attack on our families. There are all types of organizations that exist peacefully in this city alongside us, but there are protocols and boundaries that must be respected. This is your one and only warning that you have overstepped your bounds. Go back to Mexico, Mr. Vargas, and I strongly recommend you consider staying there.”

  Juan Carlos was outnumbered, not only at our makeshift meeting but also throughout the city. “I understand.” His words were clipped, shoulders now tense with anger. He had no room to argue, and that only frustrated him more.

  Enzo turned his back on Juan Carlos, his message received, and led us back to our cars. Once we were out of sight, Enzo shook Matteo’s hand. “I appreciate your show of support.”

  “Judging from what I just witnessed, I think this may end up involving all of us. The Commission will need to be informed.”

  “Agreed. He’s not about to go quietly into the night, but that’s a fight for another day. At least we know the threat and can prepare.”

  “Keep me informed.”

  “Of course.” Enzo turned to me as Matteo got back in his car with his men. “You should be safe for now, but if you suspect he’s up to anything, let us know.”

  “I will, and I’m sorry to have brought this trouble to your doorstep.”

  “When money and power are at play, there are always rivals seeking to challenge us. That’s nothing new.”

  “All right, you two,” Edoardo called from inside the car. “I have a daughter in the hospital I’ve yet to talk to since she woke up. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  We made the drive back to the city, and they dropped me at Giada’s apartment building so that I could shower and change. Once I was cleaned up, I managed to find a place where I could buy a burger before eleven and made my way back to the hospital. I found Giada upright in bed, watching television when I arrived.

  “You’re awake. I thought you might be asleep after taking your pain meds.”

  “I told them no narcotics. I missed so much already in the past two days; I didn’t want to sleep through more.” She smiled up at me, but her eyes didn’t hold their usual light. She was in more pain than she let on. I wished I could convince her to take the meds, but Giada wasn’t about to do anything she didn’t want to.

  “Did you get to see your dad?”

  “Yeah, he and Mom just left. How did you know he was here?”

  “Did he tell you about our morning?”

  Her brow furrowed. “No, what happened?”

  Her father might have preferred to insulate his daughters by keeping them in the dark, but Giada wasn’t my daughter, and I didn’t want our relationship to be founded on secrets. I told her all about how I’d been attacked and the resulting meetings. Maybe it was the lingering effects of the drugs, but she absorbed everything I told her as though I’d outlined a trip to the supermarket. She listened and nodded, but there was no freaking out or overreacting.

  I thought back to seeing her join me at the coffee shop with her suitcase, to the time she confronted me about being used, and the way she coddled Haley despite being bloody and beaten. It wasn’t the drugs. Giada was simply remarkable. She might have been somewhat confrontational but in a calm, confident manner. She knew her mind, stood up for herself, and was dependable when times got turbulent. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect woman.

  “I’m so relieved my dad and Uncle Enzo have accepted you,” she said, taking my hand and holding it in her lap.

  I wished I could lay with her and hold her in my arms, but she was in too delicate of a condition, and the bed was entirely too small. “It’s more like I’m on probation.”

  “They offered you protection. That’s good enough for me.”

  “Hopefully, it won’t be necessary, but I have a feeling Juan Carlos will be back. It’s not my ideal scenario, but if the families unite against him, he won’t stand a chance. I’m not too worried. I’d almost prefer he continues to challenge the mafia, then I’d get my chance to kill him and take back what belongs to me.”

  “I don’t even want to think about a war right now.” She visibly shuddered, making me feel bad for bringing it up.

  “It probably won’t even happen.” I ran my fingers down the side of her face and around to her chin. “You know, it’s strange. I always hated him. He was abusive and difficult. Always made my life a pain when he was around. But your light outshines those shadows so completely that I can’t even see them with you in my life. I don’t care if he lives or dies or whether it rains or snows. All that matters is you.”

  A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “I love you, Primo.”

  I stilled, a sudden revelation barreling into me. “Javier. My name is Javier Valencia; my mother called me Javi. Naz renamed me Primo. While it means cousin in Spanish and made for a good way of denoting our close relationship when he first took me in, he explained that primus in Latin meant first, and since I was to be his first in command, the name Primo would also signify my station. It was all a part of his sick plan of succession, but that’s not who I am or where my life is headed. I think it’s time I returned to being Javier.”

  Like a rainbow after a storm, she smiled through her tears. “Kiss me, Javier Valencia.”

  I pressed my lips to hers, unable to deny her. I would have razed cities and bled myself dry for her. For the love of a woman. And not just any woman. A mafia princess.

  My trajectory had been drastically altered twice in my life—both instances revolved around a woman’s love. The loss of my mother derailed my life and cast me down a dark path. For years, I didn’t care about anyone but myself, and that was a dangerous place for a man to be. When Giada thrust herself into my world, she righted my path. Grounded me and made me see past my own two feet. She may have taken a bullet for me, but that wasn’t the only way she’d saved me. I owed her my life in more ways than one.

  Chapter 30

  Giada

  “You pushed yourself too hard today,” Javi fussed at me from beside the tub where I soaked up to my chest in bubbles. My gunshot wound was healing nicely, but it wasn’t allowed to be submerged yet, so I kept my shoulders above the waterline. He’d taken excellent care of me while I healed, and I relished our time together, even if I did call him by the wrong name a time or two. Now, having Javi in my life felt as essential as breathing.

  “No, I didn’t. Besides, it’s only a few days until Christmas, and I wanted some decorations out. It’s depressing not to have decorations at Christmas.”

  “You could have waited until I was home.”

  “It’s been two weeks since I was shot. My shoulder and ribs are both much better, and I didn’t l
ift anything heavy.” Having had enough of the conversation, I gingerly rose to my feet, suds drifting down my wet body. “Help me dry off?” My voice pitched low. Husky but feminine.

  Javier grabbed a towel and helped me from the tub, all the while eyeing me suspiciously. I stood in place, encouraging him to pat me dry—something I could have done myself. It had been weeks since we’d been intimate, and I was desperately in need of his touch. He’d been adamant about not initiating anything to prevent me from being hurt.

  It was time to overcome that little hurdle.

  He swept the towel slowly down one of my legs then back up the other, methodically drying me and getting an eyeful of every square inch of my body, just as I wanted. When his hands swept the towel beneath my breasts, I arched a fraction and released a breathy moan.

  “What game are you playing, viborita?” His voice was winded and rough, affirming that my plan was working.

  “You know exactly what I’m getting at. I know you think you’ll hurt me, but I’m well enough, I promise. And I know you can be gentle. Please?” I reached out and palmed the bulge in his pants, loving the way he jerked and hissed at my touch.

  “Fuck, you know I can’t deny you anything.” His lips descended onto mine.

  Delicious warmth quivered through me. My heart danced, skipping over beats and rushing blood to my swollen center.

  Javi took my hand and walked us backward to the bedroom then gently lay me down. “Tell me if I hurt you.” He removed his clothes, and the feel of his naked body caressing my skin sent a buzz to my head stronger than any drug.

  I wasn’t able to hold him and participate like I would have preferred, but just getting to be with him, connecting with him physically and emotionally, was the best Christmas gift I could have received. He worshiped my body with the methodical determination of a painter perfecting his canvas.

  His hot breath.

  His velvet tongue.