Chapter 1
Fedarro finished showering after the gym, got dressed, and then looked at his cell phone as he walked down the hallway in his penthouse. Collin hadn’t come home with him last night, saying he was staying at the party with the guys, but he knew that Angela was there. She wanted them to go back to her place, wanted to put smiles on their faces, but he wasn’t biting. They never brought any women here to their home, their penthouse, ever. This was a sacred place for them. It had high-tech security, their guards right beyond the door twenty-four-seven, and neither Fedarro nor Collin trusted many people to come here. They didn’t throw parties here, no gatherings with friends. It was strictly their resting place.
Fedarro wondered if his brother took Angela, or any of the other women who were throwing themselves at them last night, back to their place. Fedarro had no interest. He couldn’t seem to stop his eyes from roaming back to Gisella. He had watched her closely, had analyzed her behavior, her body language, and who she had spoken to all evening. She didn’t drink much at all and seemed to switch to water on ice in a small glass as if trying to pull it off as vodka. Whomever she spoke to smiled. She had that effect on people. He didn’t know why she interested him so. It bothered Fedarro. He was a private man, an untrusting man. He never looked at a woman with anything more than a means to appease his needs. He chose carefully. He had particular tastes, and so did Collin.
He glanced back at his phone, looking at the messages he had ignored last night, and saw the text from Collin saying he crashed at a friend’s place but would be back to the penthouse soon. Fedarro sat at the table and opened up his laptop. He was checking the e-mails for the final closing date on the building they were buying and saw an e-mail regarding the date. The guy he had fronting as him and Collin scheduled for the paperwork to be signed after a walk-through with one of the associates from Keller Perkins Real Estate Agency.
When he went to the next e-mail, sent from one of his associates about another potential warehouse and facility possibly going up for sale, he scanned the document for more details. He checked out the link, which came up to the main page of Keller Perkins Real Estate. He saw some of the high-priced homes and penthouses throughout the city. His curiosity got the better of him as he searched and found a listing that caught his eye. Not that he was in the market for another penthouse, but when he clicked to see a larger picture of the eighteen-million-dollar home, he caught sight of the executive manager associate with the listing—it was a picture of Gisella Maninni.
Those light-green eyes and full, lush lips were what he saw first, then the business dress and how her breasts were accentuated yet didn’t reveal too much cleavage. She wasn’t overdone with jewelry. She wore a very thin choker-style necklace that had an additional long gold piece with a diamond at the end. Very classy, delicate, sexy. He imagined holding her face between his hands, stroking her throat as he pecked at those sexy full lips. His cock hardened, and he narrowed his eyes, leaned back, and clicked off the site.
This had never happened to him before. He had never wanted a woman for anything more than to fuck. He was all business in everything he did. It had a reason, a purpose, and then he was finished. It was why he was always getting involved in another investment, challenging any barriers, and trying to stay in the competition of life.
His cell phone rang, and he saw it was Roman, one of his guards but also a business partner. All their security members were connected to their businesses, either having an investment in stocks or a stake in making money. He believed it helped keep them loyal and ensured they cared about the security of each of those businesses. Their main company was Bloodline Protection and Securities, which they ran with their cousins and other family members. It was an international company now, and more family ran it from abroad.
He answered the phone. “Yes.”
“Hey, boss, just got a call from a friend of mine, Carmine. He heard that Myran Cornish may be looking to downsize, get rid of a hotel and some clubs as he wants to fully retire to Florida. That hotel, club, and theater on the Upper East Side could be up for sale in the next several months.”
“Really? Any way to find out more and maybe get a head start on negotiations?”
“I’m working on it, but I did hear word is getting out fast.”
“I can give Myran a call. I’ll tell him I heard a little bit of gossip. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“No problem, and your brother is headed up now.”
“Thanks.”
Fedarro searched through his contacts and then hit the send button. He typed on the laptop, bringing up an aerial view of that block, the three-floor nightclub, ten-story hotel, and theater. It was a fucking goldmine, but they did have some issues with crime in that neighborhood. The buildings all needed a lot of work.
“Hello.”
“Myran, it’s Fedarro.”
“Oh, Fedarro, how are you?”
“I’m doing well, and how about yourself? Are you in New York or Florida?”
“Florida right now. I’ll be making a trip next week to take care of some business.”
“Anything to do with some real estate I hear you may want to part with?”
“Ahhh, word gets out quickly.”
“Not surprising.”
“So are you interested?”
“I may be. Is it true you’re thinking of selling the strip on the Upper East Side? The theater, club, and hotel?”
“Yes. I ran into some problems with people I trusted. I can’t look after these places anymore. No time, no energy, and I truly have no interest anymore. Myself and the wife are set and can enjoy retiring and seeing the grandchildren.”
“I understand. I hope those trust issues weren’t too much of a problem.”
“Not really. Now have you been to see the property?”
“No. I got as far as hearing you may be selling before calling you direct. You know how I operate.”
“Yes, I do. If you’re interested in seeing the buildings and property, I’m working with a woman who came highly recommended. She’s exceptional, gorgeous, sweet, and assertive. She also just so happens to have a mother my wife has used as a seamstress for years. Maybe you heard of her. Gisella Maninni.”
His brother walked in as he was recovering from the shock.
“Gisella Maninni, you say? Actually, my brother and I do know her. She’s good friends with our cousins’ girlfriend.”
“Well, she isn’t doing the sale through the company she works for. She runs her own small high-end real estate business. Only takes on special clients. Anyway, wonderful woman. If you would like to set something up with her to view the property and building, I would be fine with that and let her know you’ll be calling.”
“That would be great. You have my number. Let Miss Maninni have it, and she can call me to set something up, or I can give her a call later. I appreciate the opportunity.”
“Not a problem. Stay in touch.”
Fedarro ended the call and then thought about what he had just learned. So Gisella was running her own little side real estate company. Interesting. This could be a few-hundred-million-dollar deal.
“What was that all about?” Collin asked and then fell onto the couch and laid back.
“Where did you crash?”
“Why do you care?”
“Just wondering.”
“I had a shitty fucking night. Now, what was the fucking call about?” Collin asked with attitude.
Fedarro stared at him straight-faced.
Collin ran his fingers through his hair, sat up, and exhaled. “Sorry. Serious about the bad fucking night.”
Fedarro raised one of his eyebrows.
“I didn’t take her home or fuck anyone. Couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he said, annoyed.
“What do you mean?”
Collin looked at his brother and held his gaze. “What the fuck do you think I mean? Gisella. I couldn’t get her out of my head, even as I was about to get some head. Fuck, what a
mess.”
“Collin, she isn’t interested in us.”
“Bullshit she isn’t.”
“We don’t date or do commitments. We have a lot on our plates, a lot of responsibilities. We sure as shit don’t need fucking games. So get your head out of your ass and focus on what we need to do. A potential investment just came up.”
“What does it have to do with Gisella?” Collin asked.
Fedarro raised one of his eyebrows at him.
“I heard you say her name. Is she connected to this potential investment?”
“Yes. Let me explain.” Fedarro told his brother about the conversation and the plan.
“I want in on this with you and meeting up with her.”
“What did I just say?”
“You’re wrong, Fedarro. She feels the attraction, but something is making her keep her distance.”
“She knows what we do—legit and non-legit businesses. The danger, the potential for problems, they add up. She doesn’t want to be involved with men like us. We don’t want some woman clinging either. That isn’t how we roll.”
“That’s bullshit. I say we fucking see what happens. I’m antsy, irritable, and every thought comes back to her in that dress last night,” Collin admitted.
“Well, get over it. This is business.”
* * * *
Gisella was sitting at her desk in the home office after she got back from the gym, showered, and dressed. It was kind of crazy running her own side business, but eventually she wanted out of Hawk and Perkins. She wasn’t comfortable around Andrew and Keller or too keen on some of the side deals that she and others weren’t supposed to know about. She did know about them, about illegal sales of properties, about not paying taxes, about changing numbers on paper to do deals under the table—all illegal shit that eventually would catch up with them. She made sure she wasn’t part of any of those deals.
When she started venturing into her side business, they were pissed off at her and tried telling her that she couldn’t do it. She had held her own, but then Andrew and Keller became a little aggressive. They had tried their hand at flirting with her and making suggestions. She had been to lunch, working out a deal with Iglesias and Emanuel’s uncle Romando when Andrew called her, copped an attitude, and started threatening her. She got heated, told him off, and ended the call, but she was worried about her job. She only had a few clients in the side business, and now she could lose her connection to other people in the field. Andrew and Keller’s threats were real.
She wound up telling Romando about what was going on in her life, about the side business, and about trying to eventually go out on her own. He was Vender’s godfather, and they were super-close. She remembered his advice, about standing her ground, following her gut, and zoning in on those instincts. A wise businessman, he was getting ready to retire soon. She felt good about their conversation, and he really helped boost her confidence and give her the attitude she needed to face Andrew and Keller back at the office. She had completed the deal with Romando, and by the time she got back to the office ready to fire back if Andrew and Keller gave her attitude, they instead kissed her ass.
She had a feeling Romando had done something. Whatever it was, her two bosses were more understanding. Now the problem was they thought that she somehow belonged to them or perhaps had rights to her or something. She wasn’t sure. She repeatedly told them she would never get involved romantically with them, but they still tried to flirt. She wondered if they wanted to get involved with her to get an in with the Picatta family. None of the Picatta family used Keller and Andrew for their real estate needs, only her.
Her cell phone rang, and she looked at the caller ID, surprised to see it was Myran Cornish. She knew he had been debating putting up some properties for sale, but she was trying to make sure he was certain and got the most for his money when the time came. He was a very nice, wealthy older man, and his wife, Eleanor, had Gisella’s mom and aunts work on all her dresses and gowns over the years for different events.
“Good morning, Myran.”
“Good morning, Gisella. How are you today?”
“Doing well, and how about you? Enjoying that Florida sun?”
“Yes, I am. Sitting back on the patio by the pool and looking at the Gulf, wondering if I should sail today or not.”
“Must be nice. Enjoy it. You and Eleanor deserve it.”
“Thank you. I was actually calling to talk to you about the piece of real estate on the Upper East Side. I have a good friend who may be interested in working out a deal. I would like you to call him today to arrange a showing of the property.”
“Of course I can do that. If it’s someone you know well, you don’t really need me to complete a sale. You can do it privately between your lawyers and his.”
“No way. I want you to get something out of this. We can work that all out. I’m not worried. I trust you, and I trust Fedarro Fiorre.”
She felt like her heart stopped beating for a second. Her jaw dropped, and then she cleared her throat. “Did you say Fedarro Fiorre?”
He chuckled. “Yes, I did. I know he’s a very intimating and wealthy man, but I’ve known him and his family for many years. We’ve done other business over the years, and I think he would really get that strip back in top order, even change things in that neighborhood for the better. When I mentioned you, he said that he knew you.”
“Yes. Well, his cousins, Mateus and Major, are dating a very good friend of mine.”
“Oh, Bella? Such a sweet young woman. Those two are extremely protective of her.”
“Yes, they are.” She couldn’t help but feel envious. The way those men looked at Bella was magical.
“Well, this will work out nicely. I’m glad that you know Fedarro, and his brother, too, I assume. So can you call him and arrange something right away?”
“Um, of course.”
“Do you have his number?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, here you go.”
He rambled off the number, and she wrote it down, already feeling nervous about calling the man. She would have to spend a good amount of time showing him the properties, but it would mean big money.
“Well, I should get back to paradise. Let me know how it all pans out.”
“I will, Myran. Please tell Eleanor I said hello.”
“Will do.”
She ended the call, leaned back, and tapped her pen on the notepad she had written Fedarro Fiorre’s number on.
Fedarro Fiorre—a major boss in organized crime and legit businesses, a powerhouse of intimidation, a man who only spoke to people he wanted to speak with. God, she’d heard that people feared approaching him and speaking with him even to just say hello and give regards. He was a hard-ass, demanding, controlling, sexy-as-sin man.
She shook her head and felt her body react to her just thinking about him and Collin. God, Collin was just as intimidating, but he was more forward, talkative, and didn’t sugarcoat anything. She should have felt like she had the upper hand, considering they had both paid attention to her last night and even engaged in conversation, a conversation in which Fedarro had basically accused her of spreading her legs to move up the corporate ladder. He was harsh, untrusting, and hard in so many ways. She supposed he didn’t trust people for good reason, but that didn’t give him the right to make such crude accusations.
She got all angry and annoyed again. The man got under her skin yet aroused her. Collin did the same thing. That scruff along their cheeks, their dark eyes, and their suspicious minds and attitudes, plus the way they brought attention to themselves and didn’t seem to notice or care, were exciting and yet scary. They were way more powerful and wealthy than any of the made men she knew, including the Picatta family.
She thought about how both men had looked last night. How it felt to have them close and to feel Fedarro’s hand on her hip and his forearm against her ribs as he caged her in by the bar. She had thought he was going to kiss her and dam
ned herself for being curious. She tapped the pen against her lips, thinking about their bodies, how they looked in the tuxedos, and how masculine and sexy they were.
When her phone rang, she gasped, shook her head, and beat herself up for sitting here and fantasizing about two men she needed to stay clear of. Glancing at her phone, she saw it was Emanuel calling. Guilt hit her out of nowhere. Why should she feel guilty? Because she was fantasizing about two men she would never get involved with, and now her dead boyfriend’s cousin was calling her. Jesus, she was losing her mind. She needed to focus on work, just work.
“Hello.”
“Good morning, gorgeous. How is everything going?”
“Good, and how about yourself? Late night last night?” She had heard that he and a few others had hit the Red Slipper and dropped a few grand.
“Ahhh, worried about me, gorgeous?”
“Never. I know you can take care of yourself. So what do I owe the pleasure of this Sunday morning call?”
“What we discussed last night at the fund-raiser. Iglesias and I were interested in finding out more about a particular property that may or may not be for sale.”
“Okay, who is selling?”
“We heard that York Saint James may be looking to sell off the club he has in the meat-packing district. He wants to meet tomorrow around lunchtime. I thought we could all meet at Louie’s place? I can call and make reservations for twelve at a private table in the back.”
“Why do you need me there? You could probably negotiate terms accordingly with him.”
“I need your expertise and your ability to negotiate terms in your way. This is preliminary anyway. We’re getting a feel for the guy and whether he’s really interested in selling.”
“Okay, I can probably get there in time. I have an early closing and a possible viewing of another home at two. I can stay for your meeting with Mister Saint James until one thirty. Then I need to be uptown.”
Made Men 4: One More Time (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 3
