Red Hot Dragons Steamy 10 Book Collection

by Lisa Daniels

  “Does that mean we’re not going to the liquor store?” she yelled after him as he tried to brush past her.

  “Sasha!” her concerned friend yelled. “Forget about it!”

  Luca snickered.

  “Wow, you can do math after all.”

  “Wait! Can you still buy us beer?” Sasha pleaded and Luca whirled to stare at her, his eyes flashing.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded. “You just agreed to get in a stranger’s car for a sip of vodka. You know what’s next? Selling your ass on a corner in Hialeah for an ounce of smack. Get your shit together, go home to your parents, and stay in school.”

  Sasha blinked, tears filling her eyes, and her friends flocked to her, pulling her back as if Luca had physically wounded her.

  “You’re an asshole!” one of the girls cried, hugging Sasha to her.

  “You think I’m an asshole?” he laughed. “You haven’t seen shit if you continue on this path.”

  He stormed into the store and signaled for the clerk.

  “There’s a bunch of tweenagers hitting up customers for beer out there. You should call the cops,” he muttered, turning away to find what he was looking for.

  When he left the store five minutes later, the group had vanished.

  Good. I hope they think twice about doing anything that stupid again, he thought, but he couldn’t shake the sensation that he had just unnecessarily scarred those girls for life.

  They were only kids after all.

  We were all kids once, he thought, pulling back onto the interstate. I wish I’d had more of a reality check when I was a kid. It would make days like today much more bearable.

  He pushed aside the idea that he was unleashing his own inner turmoil on unsuspecting kids.

  We all need to grow up sometime.

  He continued along until he reached the outskirts of Fort Lauderdale, guiding the vehicle into the cemetery parking lot.

  Grabbing the flowers from the driver’s seat, he inhaled shakily before getting out of the car.

  Time to pay his respects.

  Chapter Two

  Already Finding Trouble

  Angela drummed her fingers against the table, captivated by the length of the nails on her hand. She’d never experienced such a sight on her usually short-cropped nails and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from it.

  Do women really wear their manicures this long? It’s farcical, she thought, staring at them in disbelief, the red of the polish causing her to blush slightly.

  Nothing about Teresa Milano reflected her personality and as she sat at the bar waiting, she could not shake the sense that she was going to blow her cover as soon as she opened her mouth.

  “You have this woman inside you,” Special Agent Duggan assured her. “You just have to channel your inner Teresa and run with it.”

  They couldn’t have started me with someone a little less out there, huh? I had to walk in, red dress and stilettos like the whore of Babylon.

  In all fairness, while the dress was red, it wasn’t crimson or cherry. It was a deep, matte color which was very flattering to her dark hair and olive complexion.

  And it was stylish, not slutty, but that was all a matter of perception to a woman who had last worn a dress to her sister’s wedding two years earlier. She was out of her element and she couldn’t find a hint of Angela anywhere inside her.

  “You want to stand out,” Terry explained. “But you don’t want to attract the wrong attention. This is Miami, after all. The competition is somewhat fierce.”

  “You don’t think these claws will attract the wrong attention?” she demanded, holding up her hand in dismay.

  “They aren’t as bad as you think,” he sighed. “El Cajon really didn’t prepare you for the outside world, did it?”

  Angela was embarrassed but she hid it smoothly.

  “Sorry,” she replied sharply. “My experience with mob wives is limited to VH-1.”

  The agent snickered.

  “Well, then you should be adequately educated. It’s really not that much different.”

  She had no idea if he was joking or not.

  I guess I’m going to find out.

  Sighing, Angela glanced at her watch again and the bartender winked at her, leaning over the bar, her full bosom spilling out the top of her V-neck. A small, tasteful tattoo licked her neck just beneath her ear.

  “Hot date?” she asked and Angela’s head whipped up, her black hair tumbling around her bare shoulders.

  Every encounter you have, every word you speak, every smile you give going forward belongs to Teresa. Don’t forget that.

  Duggan’s words reverberated in her mind on a loop.

  And you’re on…

  Angela moaned, dropping her palms onto the bar for effect as if she was deeply exasperated.

  “I thought so,” she muttered. “Goddamned Tinder.”

  The blonde behind the bar grinned, her eyebrows raising as she nodded understandingly.

  “Yeah, I’ve had my fair share of those too,” she conceded sympathetically. “Welcome to Miami.”

  Angela sighed dramatically.

  “Can I get another?” she asked, forcing a depressed note into her voice as she signaled at her empty glass. “May as well drown my sorrows while I’m here.”

  “Ah, chin up,” the server laughed, reaching for her glass. “It’s Tinder. Pull out your phone and make another connection.”

  “No, thank you,” Angela replied. “One rejection is more than enough for one night. I’m just going to lick my wounds and go home.”

  The bartender made a commiserating noise as she slipped the drink before her.

  “I’m Tanya,” she offered, holding out her hand, and Angela accepted it.

  Teresa. Your name is Teresa.

  “Teresa Milano.”

  Their palms met and for a terrifying second, Angela was afraid her hands were drenched in sweat.

  The blonde studied her face.

  “You’re not from Miami, are you?” Tanya asked and Angela had to swallow a laugh.

  See? I’ve said five words and my cover is already blown. I stick out here like a sore thumb.

  “I’m from Richmond, Virginia.”

  “Ah,” the bartender chuckled. “That explains it.”

  “What?”

  “Well, you dress the part but you’ve got the good Southern girl thing going on. You can take the girl out of the south…”

  Angela’s smile froze on her face.

  I knew it. I’m going to get found out. Shit! My cover is blown!

  She willed the panic to subside and tried to reclaim Teresa’s state of mind.

  “Just trying to blend in,” Angela said quickly and Tanya laughed, placing her hand over hers.

  “Trust me, honey, you don’t want to blend it. Everyone in Miami looks the same. You want to stand out.”

  That’s exactly what Duggan said. Maybe the giant bastard really knows what he’s talking about after all.

  Angela glanced at the bartender’s hand, wondering if she was reading too much into the gesture, but her cop’s intuition told her that Tanya was not merely being friendly.

  I wonder if her angle has ever been questioned.

  Angela mentally filed Tanya away for future use.

  When she got in touch with Agent Duggan later, she could have him check her out.

  “Anyway, pretty girls like you won’t take long to get noticed. Especially not in a place like this,” Tanya continued, her smile widening as she shifted her eyes toward the entrance, slipping her hand back to her side of the bar.

  Angela turned to see where she was looking and her heart sped up slightly.

  Of course she was inside La Perla for a reason.

  Everyone knew that Giovanni DiMarco owned the high-end Italian eatery in the heart of downtown and that his crew frequented the spot.

  The problem was, there was no rhyme or reason as to when they showed, despite the years of surveillance the e
stablishment had undergone.

  “You should start there and become known as a regular. Make friends with anyone you can. You’re the new girl in town, sweet but ready for adventure,” Duggan told her. “You might not contact anyone for days but at least you are making your presence known. Use your ears, not your mouth. Don’t ask a lot of questions and don’t volunteer information. I know that you’ve only had a few days of training but I think you’re ready.”

  Bullshit, Angela thought, watching as Carlo Suzzi and his wife wandered inside the establishment, dressed like a Hollywood celebrity couple. No amount of training could prepare me for this.

  Andrea Suzzi was dripping in diamonds from ears to hands, a mink stole around her shoulders despite the eighty-degree heat in the evening.

  Her lumpy, potato form was held together in a Vera Wang which likely cost more than what Angela paid for rent in a year.

  The underboss was in an elegant pinstriped suit, reminiscent of Al Capone with a matching fedora. For a fleeting second, Ang felt like she’d stepped onto the set of “Boardwalk Empire”.

  Escorting his wife toward the hostess station, neither of them bothered to look up as if they expected all eyes to fall on them.

  Miami royalty, she thought scornfully. Murdering, pimping, thieving oligarchs.

  “You shouldn’t gawk. They don’t like it,” Tanya murmured at her and Angela turned her head back toward the bartender.

  My ass they don’t like it. They command it. Purposely.

  “I’m sorry!” she breathed, tinging pink as she added a slight Southern drawl to her voice for effect. “They just look so glamorous. Are they famous?”

  Tanya picked up a glass from the sterilizer and put it in its proper place, a small grin on her face.

  “You don’t know who they are?” the bartender chuckled. “Really?”

  She shook her head.

  “Should I? Oh, let me guess—” she started.

  “No, no!” Tanya stopped her, losing the amused grin on her face. “Never mind. You want another drink?”

  Angela glanced at the half-drunk vodka soda before her.

  “I probably shouldn’t…” she sighed but Tanya was already pouring her another.

  “One more won’t hurt. What else are you doing tonight anyway, right?”

  “You’re a good bartender,” Angela muttered, grateful that she had no issue handling her alcohol. For a relatively meek individual, drinking was one thing she knew she could do without issue.

  Just like my daddy. I bet Daddy would have liked Tanya too. Blonde, big boobs. Just his type. Exactly the opposite of Mom.

  Angela was annoyed that her daddy issues were resurfacing at the most inopportune time and shoved them aside.

  Maybe I’m not handling my alcohol as well as I like to think.

  “Oh,” Tanya commented lightly, placing a fresh drink in front of her. “Looks like we’re going to have a slew of regulars gracing us with their presence today.”

  There was a slight edge to her voice and Angela turned to see where she was looking.

  “You need to pay up your tab and get out of here,” Tanya said, a new urgency in her voice. “Or don’t pay it. Come back later and take care of it. Just get out of here quickly.”

  As she turned to look, a hint of recognition flowed through her.

  Her mind flipped through the Rolodex of pictures she had forced herself to learn through the last week.

  August DiFranco. Tommy Fagioli. Frank Massuto. All soldiers under Luca Gallo.

  The men were laughing raucously as they made their way toward the bar, their voices already grating on Angela’s raw nerves.

  Oh, come on, she thought. Not yet. Not today. I need more time to feel this place out.

  She reasoned it could be worse; she might run into Gallo himself and Angela knew she was not equipped to deal with him that night.

  She wasn’t sure she knew how to approach him once she did see him. She just hoped that her anger for what he had done to Val wouldn’t be obvious on her face.

  She’s right. I need to get out of here, Angela thought but she didn’t immediately understand why the blonde had asked her to leave.

  In any case, Angela knew she had to get moving.

  “Hey, Tanya!” August yelled, plopping himself on a stool just down from where Angela sat.

  “Hey, asshole,” the bartender replied flatly, the lilting tone gone from her voice. “The usual?”

  August pouted, pretending to be hurt by the insult, but his eyes were fixated on Angela as his friends lined up at his side.

  “Why you gotta be like that?” he asked, leaning one arm onto the bar to leer at Angela and she could see that his blue eyes were bloodshot.

  He’s already either drunk or high, she thought, shifting her gaze away and studying her drink. Do not instigate contact with them. You’re not ready tonight.

  “One of these pricks wasn’t your Tinder date, was it?” Tanya whispered and Angela shook her head quickly.

  “Thank God for that,” Tanya breathed. “Seriously, you need to leave, honey.”

  “What are you broads whispering about over there?” Tommy Fagioli called.

  “Broads?” Tanya echoed. “Did we step into the sixties?”

  “Yeah, Bean, shut up,” August laughed, rising to switch seats so he could be closer to Angela. “That’s not a nice way to make an impression on a beautiful lady.”

  “Maybe you oughta ask the girl if she wants company first,” Frank warned and Tommy laughed.

  “Auggie don’t ask permission for nothing, ain’t that right, Auggie?”

  Angela could not believe her bad luck as she abruptly realized who she was staring at.

  Of all the people’s attention to catch, it had to be this prick.

  August DiFranco’s priors include kidnapping, assault, menacing, threatening, sexual battery, and rape. Victims always drop charges or disappear.

  “Hey, baby,” August purred, sliding beside her, his legs touching hers.

  Angela wanted to shudder but she managed to keep herself together.

  “Hi,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink quickly and reaching for her purse, signaling Tanya for the bill. She desperately wished she’d heeded the bartender’s advice sooner but it was too late now.

  “Hey, you can’t leave now,” August cooed. “I just got here. Let me buy you a drink. Tanya, get this girl a drink. What’s your name, bella?”

  “Teresa, but I can’t stay. I have to get home to my dog. He’s a pit bull.”

  Why the hell did I say that now? Ang wondered, her face paling at the stupidity of her comment.

  The men howled with laughter.

  “I love that name and I love dogs,” August announced. His hand found her thigh and Angela’s body tensed.

  Oh, for Christ’s sake. Is this the way it’s really going down? I’m going to kill him one hour into my cover and screw everything up before I even meet Luca Gallo? Duggan is going to be pissed.

  No. She would do everything in her power to find out what happened to Val. It had been almost three years and her aunt deserved proper closure, even if Aunt Stella didn’t know she needed it yet.

  Tanya slammed a mug of beer onto the bar, spilling it and causing August to turn around and look at her with anger.

  Angela recognized just how cold the man’s blue eyes were.

  He looks dead inside. I wonder if he is.

  She didn’t get the sense that he was a shifter but sometimes it was hard to tell.

  “Can you use a little more finesse?” he growled at the bartender but Tanya didn’t seem apologetic in the least.

  “Nope,” she replied hostilely.

  The two had a silent face-off and Angela realized that Tanya had purposely given her an escape.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “I-I need to use the restroom. Just the bill, please.”

  Tanya nodded, her eyes still locked on August.

  “Sure thing, Teresa.”

  Angela squirmed
past August’s wiry frame, his hand gripping her leg almost painfully.

  She resisted the urge to break his fingers, making her way toward the washrooms, clutching her purse.

  “Hurry back, bella. I’ll have a drink waiting for you.”

  Exhaling, Angela slid out of sight, falling against the wall, trying to compose herself.

  I’m not ready for this, she thought, panic threatening to overcome her again.

  Get it together! she yelled at herself. You have a job to do. People are depending on you. Your family is depending on you. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you went through all this training, not to blow it on your first night out.

  She took a deep, shaking breath and pushed into the women’s washroom, stopping to stare at herself in the mirror.

  Her vivid blue eyes were darker than usual, the stress of the evening catching up to her, but she looked lovely.

  She had been given a makeup tutorial and was wearing contact lenses.

  Without the large frames overtaking her face, her high cheekbones and flawless skin were glowing.

  Her tresses hung stylishly along her neckline, freshly cut but still long to her shoulder blades.

  I clean up pretty good, Angela thought, slightly awed by the transformation. Of course, she had seen herself before leaving her undercover apartment that evening but, in her nervousness, she had failed to see exactly how beautiful she looked.

  Teresa Milano is better-looking than me, Angela laughed, turning away from the sink. Teresa Milano is different than you too. Don’t forget that. You can do this. Use your head. That’s why Duggan picked you. He knows you have a personal investment.

  With a renewed confidence, she stepped toward the door but it swung inward, catching her off guard.

  She gasped as August wandered inside the bathroom.

  “You’re in the wrong washroom,” she muttered, but she had a feeling he already knew that.

  His leer widened and he locked the door behind him, his back against the exit.

  “No, cara. I am exactly where I want to be,” he replied, stepping toward her. “And if you scream, I will snap your neck like a twig.”

  Chapter Three

  Mobster in Shining Armor

  It seemed to Luca that he had spent more time in his car, deciding whether or not to enter buildings, than he had actually gone places that Tuesday.