by C. A. Szarek
“Oh. I’m sorry. Is he okay now? I’ll come right—”
“No!” She had to take another breath. “I mean, stay at the casino with Paul’s team. That’s the most important thing right now.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
Gio shot his sister a look. “Normal,” he mouthed.
Her chest heaved. She was struggling through pants.
Maddie had paled out again, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her hazel stare was on Elise’s phone. Like it was a gun or a knife. Or a plague she wanted to avoid.
“Dad’s okay, he’s resting.” Elise rushed her words. “His…electrolytes or something caused him to crash, but they’re on top of it. I only came down ‘cause it’s been a few days since I’ve seen him, and I didn’t want him to worry.” Now his sister was rambling, and Gio whirled his index finger. She shrugged and he could feel her nerves.
“Are you sure?”
He sucked back a snort; like the cockstain was really concerned. Their father being out of the picture was no doubt better for him.
“I am, but thanks for calling. I’ll be home later, and I’ll update Sam and Dom.”
“Are you sure you’re okay, tesoro?”
“Yeah, under the circumstances.” His sister’s shoulders went taut, and she tightened her grip on the phone.
“You sure? You don’t sound that great.”
“Would you be okay considering what we’ve been going through?” Elise snapped.
“Are we still on for lunch?” Armani asked, obviously changing tack so he didn’t get yelled at.
Gio snorted again.
“Uh, I think I should stay with Dad…”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come? We could stay there, eat at the cafeteria.”
Elise made eye contact with him. She was in panic-mode again, and she shook her head.
He squeezed her forearm.
“Dad just wants me to sit with him for a while. Dinner instead?”
“Oh, sure. Maggiano’s?”
“My favorite, absolutely.”
Gio flashed her a thumbs-up.
“Marco, the nurse needs me; call you later?”
“Keep me post—”
His sister hit the red end circle even before Armani had the word all the way out. She stared at her darkened phone’s screen. “Do you think he bought it?” Her inquiry was just above a whisper.
“I think so. Good job, Lise.”
Maddie cursed, and they both glanced her way.
Her expression was unreadable, which was odd; she was usually pretty transparent.
“I know who Marco is.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gian. Fucking. Falcone.
How had she not known?
Maddie’s head spun and she wandered forward, wobbling on very shaky legs. If she didn’t find a chair, she was going to fall over.
She located a small dining area and a round table that’d seen better days. She clutched the back of a chair, then managed to round the front and plant her ass.
Gio and Elise had followed her from the front door, but they didn’t crowd her; like they could both sense she needed a few.
“Maddie?” He finally breeched the silence. His Adam’s apple bobbed.
She could read the demand on his lips and feel his urgency, but he didn’t push her. Maybe he’d really grown up.
“Who is he, really?” Elise asked, beating her brother to the verbal punch.
“She knows?” Maddie looked at Gio.
“I told her everything.”
“I’m so sorry, Elise.”
Her former friend pursed her lips, but offered a small nod.
Maddie would take what she could get. “He’s…” She had to clear her throat and try again. “Gian Falcone, heir to the Falcone Syndicate. A glorified name for old Chicago mobsters. The FBI has been after his father, Luciano, for years.”
“The mob? That’s still a thing?” Elise was incredulous, her surprise and disbelief equal.
Gio nodded. “The Godfather style, right, Mads?”
Maddie opened her mouth, but didn’t get the chance to speak.
“Oh, shit. Jake.”
She had to tamp her panic down her to gut, so she could function. So she could speak. She’d also done the math Gio had obviously had just figured.
“We need to get Jake back to Vegas, now.” His voice was hard.
“Agreed.” She dug her phone from her pocket. “I’ll book a flight.”
“No, you need to stay here—“ Gio said.
She made a slicing gesture, cutting him off. “This is my kid we’re talking about.”
“Our kid.” This was just as hard, but she didn’t miss his challenge. “You’re not doing this alone.”
Maddie scoffed. “I’ve been ‘doing this alone’ for eight years.”
“Whose fucking fault is that?” He shot forward, intentionally towering over her in the chair, his eyes flashing like cut sapphires.
She glared and shot to her feet. “I knew you were lying. I just fucking knew it. You haven’t forgiven me. You’re not okay—”
“You’re calling me a fucking liar?” he barked. His eyes were narrowed to slits.
“Guys,” Elise said.
“You lied this morning at work. So, I guess I am.” She lifted her chin. “Which, by the way, I never asked you to do!”
“That was completely different, and you fucking know it.” He took a breath, as if he was trying to get a hold on his temper, but his expression was still made of rage. “Mads, I’m a lot of things, but you don’t get to—”
“Nico!” Elise yelled, probably because it was the only thing that would shut him up. She grabbed his wrist and tugged.
Gio looked at his sister. His chest heaved.
“That’s it,” she soothed. “Take a breather.” She looked at Maddie. “You, too. Now’s not the time for a pissing contest.”
Maddie snorted. “I’ve always preferred calling it ‘dick measuring’.”
Gio smirked. “If you had a dick, we’d be having a different conversation.”
Elise smiled, and even though it was small, it was almost like her friend was back. “Piss or dicks, we need to focus on my nephew.” The younger woman sobered.
Maddie nodded. “She’s right.” She dialed her cell and put it to her ear.
“His name is Jake?” Elise asked her brother in a whisper.
“Yeah, and he’s great. Looks just like me.”
She didn’t let the joy in Gio’s voice flip her stomach…too much.
“Maddie, who’re you calling?”
She turned away, ignoring both siblings.
The phone only rang twice.
“Crosby.”
“Hey, Colt.”
“Granger, good. I was just about to call you. We’ve got them.”
Jamie was talking—an obvious protest—in the background. She imagined her younger sister fighting even a gentle guiding touch of a helpful marshal, and almost rolled her eyes.
Maddie didn’t hide her sigh of relief. “Good. Let me talk to my sister.”
“You got it.”
“Maddie, what the hell’s going on?” Jamie demanded by way of greeting.
“Just listen to Colt. Go with him and the guys. It’ll be okay.”
“Bullshit. Tell me what’s going on.”
She paused. Jamie wouldn’t be persuaded to cooperate without the truth. Maddie closed her eyes for a split-second. “There’s been a threat, and you and Jake need to be protected. Just as a precaution.”
Jamie’s intake of breath was harsh and rocked her.
“Okay,” she whispered.
If she’d had her wits truly about her, Maddie might’ve teased her about the one word acquiescence. It was un-Jamie-like. “It’ll be okay. I promise. Colt and the guys will keep you both safe for now, until we can get you back down here.”
Gio was eyeing her so hard, he was likely to bore a hole in her shoulder, but Ma
ddie didn’t want to face him.
“Lemme talk to Jake.”
Jamie didn’t say anything else, but she could hear the shuffling of the cellphone.
“Mom?”
“Hey, little man. You okay?” She forced herself to sound positive.
“Uh huh. Where’s Dad?”
She rolled her eyes. “Right here, hold on.” Maddie’s fingers shook as she handed the phone over. Her adrenaline had finally dumped.
First the pictures, then rushing to Gio’s and finding out who Marco Fratelli really was. The argument had carried her on. Now that she’d heard their voices, she could breathe.
Really breathe.
They’re okay.
Colt would keep them safe. If she didn’t trust him, she wouldn’t have reached out.
Her chest ached, and she needed to sit again. Maddie thumped back down—she didn’t even have to back up.
Elise squeezed her shoulder.
She met her dark eyes and was able to give a small smile.
There were so many questions in the younger woman’s gaze, but they would all have to be for later.
Elise nodded, as if she’d picked up the mental put-off and understood.
Maddie nodded back, and plugged back into Gio’s conversation with their son.
“Glad to hear that, champ. Hey, can I talk to Colt?”
She narrowed her eyes. What an eavesdropper. She should’ve known he was sharp enough to catch her friend’s name.
Gio quickly introduced himself to her old teammate.
Then he did what Gio did best; took over the damn situation.
Maddie didn’t have the energy to protest. Her rollercoaster ride needed to come back to the bottom of the hill and stay put for a while.
He put the call on speaker, and the two men quickly coordinated a plan, but she appreciated his attempt to include her.
The three marshals would take Jamie and Jake to a safe location, not Maddie’s Chicago apartment, and remain there until everyone felt the coast was clear enough to return them to Vegas.
“Now what?” Elise asked when Gio had hung up, and Maddie had tucked her phone back into her pocket.
“Now, show me what you’ve got.” She gestured to the two banker’s boxes.
****
Gian’s gut told him something was up. Wrong. Off.
But what?
Elise was stressed. Ever since the afternoon the warrant had been served, so that wasn’t a shocker. But something about her today was off.
He twirled his cellphone like a fidget spinner on his desk. He didn’t want to risk odd looks from his casino coworkers, or he’d play with his knife; it’d always calmed him.
The investigation was going well. For him, anyway.
Paul’s team was hard at work with the financials he’d given them, and Gian was still in the clear. If the accountants were frustrated about the slim pickins’, they hid it well, but then again, they probably got off on this line-by-line numbers kind of thing, so maybe they were more orgasmic than disappointed over the challenge.
Uncle Dino was still checking with his sources to see if his ‘conflict of interest’ call had reaped results, and only time would tell if the ol’ pictures-and-threat had been a success.
The easy thing would be to ask Elise if she’d heard anything regarding her brother’s work situation, but that wasn’t really something he could drop into normal conversation—especially if she was mad at him.
Was she?
His fiancée had been shrill, something she rarely was in his direction. Sure, she’d always been fiery when irritated, but she hardly ever yelled at him.
Gian sighed.
A phone rang, but it wasn’t his normal cell, or the casino direct line on the desk in front of him.
His heart skipped as he dug the burner from his pocket.
Hopefully Uncle Dino would have good news.
“What did you find out?” he asked as soon as he’d placed the device to his ear.
“That you haven’t changed a bit.”
The deep voice made him sit forward in his chair and his breath dissolved.
“D-d-dad?” He winced. He’d actually stuttered, something only the man who’d raised him could bring out of him.
There was a pause, and his father made a throaty growl. “You are a bigger fool than I ever could’ve imagined.”
“Dad, let me explain—”
“Dino told me everything,” Luciano Falcone barked. “Get back to Chicago. You’ve put everything I’ve ever worked for in jeopardy, and if the FBI comes knocking, you will answer.”
Gian’s gut dipped.
Does that mean death or prison?
He didn’t want to know. He’d never manage the balls to ask.
Why had Uncle Dino betrayed him?
Was his youngest uncle still breathing?
“Tony Giovanni stole money from our family! The ledger proves it! He’s made millions off our backs, and he needs to pay!”
His father didn’t need to know the little relic he’d sought was in police custody.
A bark of laughter sounded in his ear…the last thing Gian had ever expected.
“Boy, you have no idea what you’re talking about. Leave the skeletons in the desert, where they belong.”
“But—”
“Get back to Chicago.”
He frowned.
His father hadn’t said, ‘come home,’ which meant he wasn’t welcome in the house he’d grown up in—or any residence owned by the Falcones. If something had happened to his uncle, he wouldn’t be able to house Gian, either.
“I’m not done here.” He was proud his retort hadn’t shaken.
“You. Are.”
“I’m doing this for you. I’ll marry Elise Giovanni, and everything will be mine.”
Again, his father laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Every word you speak shows how much of a child you are. You’ve done enough damage for a lifetime.”
“Damage?” he barked.
“A flight has been booked in your name for this evening. Be on it,” Dear-ol’-Dad said, as if Gian hadn’t yelled.
Then the line went dead.
“Fuck you!” he screamed and threw the little burner phone to the hardwood of his office. He jumped up from his chair and stomped the phone.
He kept driving his Ferragamo loafer down until the cracking and crushing was satisfying.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was staring them right in the face.
The proof that would exonerate his sister and their father.
Now that his son was safe, they were going over the records Elise had brought.
Gio didn’t like leaving the protection of his child to a man he didn’t know, but Maddie had sworn the marshal, Colt Crosby, could be trusted. She said the other two guys were equally good, so he had too cool his jets. Even if he didn’t like it.
Talking to the man had made him feel better. Crosby seemed to know what he was doing.
They debated whether or not it would be safer for Jake and Jamie to be in Chi-town or Sin City. Since the mob thought he was in Vegas, as far as they knew, Chicago was the winner, but somewhere other than Maddie’s old apartment.
Crosby said he would handle it, and picked a hotel outside of downtown.
“Holy shit!” Maddie said for about the fifth time as she studied each line of each report. “This is exactly what we needed.”
“Now you can go arrest the fucker, right?” Elise asked. She was now driving the “fuck the cockstain” train instead of laying on the tracks.
Gio approved. Admired her for it.
He was also reintroduced to why he’d always been a little bit afraid of his sister. She’d always been ruthless when wronged. Or when one of her family members was wronged.
It was a good thing to have her on one’s side. On the wrong side of her, she was scary.
Good luck, Armani.
Elise was likely to have his head—or his cock—on a platter.
<
br /> “Well, not exactly,” he said.
“Why?” his sister demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“It’s all circumstantial,” Maddie finished, still poring over the latest set of financials.
“Why?” Elise repeated.
“This,” Gio gestured to both boxes, “is the what, when, where.”
“Not the who,” Maddie finished again.
“Why?” his sister demanded for the third time.
Maddie smirked. “The why really doesn’t matter.”
Elise frowned. “You know what I meant. The who is what matters the most, and it’s Gian Falcone.” She spat the name, like a curse.
She’d transitioned pretty quickly into accepting that Marco Fratelli wasn’t a real person; at least not anymore, and every time she said the twatwaffle’s real name, she spat it, in true disgruntled Italian fashion.
“Right. We know that,” Maddie explained patiently. “But we have to prove it.”
Elise reclined in the chair at his kitchen table, but didn’t ease her posture. If anything, the bars across her chest tightened. “Gian started working at The Giovanni nine months ago. The money laundering started nine months ago.” She stuck her bottom lip out in a half-pout.
“Right,” Maddie and Gio said at the same time.
His sister drew her brows tight, cocking her head to one side. “What do you need?”
“Confession would be nice,” Gio said, mirroring her posture, as Maddie still pored over reports.
Elise’s frown deepened. “But you said this stuff was all you needed.” She’d already gone over the financials herself, highlighting each line from the hidden hard drives that mattered.
“Not all we need. This is the missing piece from the financials we already have. The proof, like direct records, of the money laundering activity…it totals at a startling four mil, by the way, but this right here,” Maddie gestured to the books. “Doesn’t have Falcone’s name on it. Not literally.”
His sister let her arms fall to her lap and stood, leaning over one of the boxes. “What about this?” She presented the manifest to Maddie, then passed it to him. “See where that yellow highlight is? It says ‘M. Fratelli’ originated the record in the accounting software. Isn’t that definitive proof? He created it. He was logged in.”
