Mob Lawyer 3: A Legal Thriller

by Dave Daren

  Once I’d officially dropped my ballot for Alessia, I hurried outside, hopped back into my car, and made my way toward Gargiulo’s. My heart leaped into my throat when I saw an NYPD patrol car ease into the lane behind me, and I gripped the steering wheel as I waited for Nelson to pull me over again.

  Instead, the car switched lanes and glided past me. The officer didn’t even look my way, which was probably good since I wasn’t exactly the picture of cool, calm, and collected at that moment. I exhaled the breath I didn’t even realize I had been holding, and I returned my focus to the line of cars that crept toward Brighton Beach.

  Traffic was a little crammed, likely due to people going to vote today, but it was moving just enough to get me to the restaurant about thirty minutes early. Gargiulo’s was only a couple blocks from the beach, and you could see the taller loops of the roller coaster at the amusement park down the street. I parked out front and strolled inside, where I nearly drooled at the aromas of mushrooms, seafood, and steak.

  I gave the server my name, and she escorted me to the Belvedere Room. It was a large room with very shiny tile floors and the projector screen I’d requested hanging from the wall. Red, white, and blue balloons had been tied to the centerpieces on each table, and one long table was in the middle with Alessia’s name written in flourishing scrawl on a card.

  “What do you think, Mr. Morgan?” the server asked, and I noticed she wrung her hands nervously.

  I wondered if she was nervous about me or Alessia, and I tried to ease her nerves.

  “It looks great,” I replied with an easy smile. “Thank you for doing all of this for Ms. Pizzano. Now, I have another question.”

  I dropped my voice just above a whisper as though I had a secret, and her eyes widened as she leaned in closer.

  “Yes?” she murmured.

  “Do you have any cannolis made yet?” I asked.

  “Of course,” the girl laughed. “I’ll be right back.”

  She turned on her heels and headed for the kitchen while I fiddled with the remote for the projector. I’d finally gotten the screen tuned to the local news station when she returned with a plate full of the delicious pastries and a glass of pink wine.

  “What’s this?” I asked as I took the glass.

  “Compliments of the house,” the server explained. “We’ll have champagne in here for you later.”

  “Thank you,” I said with a wide grin.

  “It’s my pleasure,” she replied and returned my smile before she resumed her position at the front door.

  My phone vibrated with a new message from Alessia while I nibbled on the sweet, cream-filled cannolis.

  Are you at the restaurant?

  Yep, just ask for the Belvedere Room.

  Within minutes, the striking Italian woman strode through the door. Her bright hazel eyes were accentuated by a thick gold necklace over a forest-green dress. She looked around the room in amazement before she walked inside with a couple of volunteers behind her. They looked around the room in awe as they found a table and sat down to whisper together.

  “Nice place,” Alessia observed as she picked up her name card. “And all for me, huh?”

  “Only the best for our next District Attorney,” I shot back, and she laughed, but it sounded forced.

  “We hope,” she said as she sat down in her seat and picked up a cannoli. “You never know. The Mayor has some pretty tight strings he’s been pulling for years. Why do you think no one ran against him?”

  “Hey, even without the truth finally coming out, you have a good shot at winning,” I pointed out. “The people really like you and everything you want to do for them. You may even have a real career in politics, maybe even taking on the Mayor’s job next.”

  “God, I hope not,” she muttered. “This stress is for the birds.”

  I was still laughing when Bear moseyed in through the door and headed for our table. Mateo and some more of the volunteers came in behind him and sat at one of the other tables to chit-chat. The room was slowly coming alive with excitement as we all waited for the news to get to the election results.

  “Is this seat taken?” Bear teased before he sat down on Alessia’s other side.

  “I’m sorry, it’s reserved,” I snickered.

  Bear and I shot the shit for a while before I realized Alessia had fallen silent as she stared at the projector screen. The reporter was talking about the Brian Chatel story, calling it the attorney’s fall from grace with the people of New York. It seemed the topic would be filling the news for a while as everything was sorted out into criminal and immoral activities. Nothing had been said about charges against Chatel or anyone else named in the documentation, but I had a feeling it would come eventually. I just hoped Alessia didn’t have to deal with that part, too. Maybe she’d get lucky and “no-balls Jordan” would handle it before he left office, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.

  Waiters in full tuxedos appeared in the doorway to the Belvedere Room and began to take drink and appetizer orders as more of the volunteers piled into the room and dispersed among the round tables. Bear rose to greet a few of them, and I took advantage of the few moments alone.

  “Hey, you okay?” I whispered to Alessia.

  “Yeah, just nervous,” she replied under her breath.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” I assured her. “At this point, you can just relax and know you did everything right. After that, it’s up to the voters.”

  “I ruined a man’s reputation.” She shuddered and closed her eyes. “I didn’t want to smear anyone when I agreed to do this. There is no way Chatel will ever be able to work here again, and that’s if he hasn’t done anything to earn jail time.”

  “That’s not your fault or your problem,” I insisted. “He ruined himself by getting involved with the wrong people. There were a thousand places he could have taken his family to keep them safe, but he chose to come here and get paid. That’s all on him. Besides, it’s not a smear if it’s true. It’s not like you made something up. If that’s what you wanted, we could have hired that Pinky chick. She had all the ideas for that plan.”

  “I know you’re right,” Alessia sighed and furrowed her brow. “I just… I don’t know, maybe it’s because now that I’ve worked so hard at this, I really want to win.”

  “Understandable,” I agreed with a nod.

  “Plus, if I don’t win, I’m definitely going to have to find a new job,” she added. “It’s just so stressful.”

  “Also true,” I chuckled. “Private practice has turned out pretty well for me, and if you’re that tense, I know of a few other private rooms here. I can help you relieve that stress a bit. I don’t mind paying for an extra room.”

  The ADA rolled her eyes and giggled at my suggestion. I was only half-serious about taking her into another room, but the smile on her face was my main goal.

  Before she could decide, Bear hurried back over to our table, and every eye turned to his large form.

  “Attention!” he bellowed, though everyone was already staring at him. “I want to thank all of you for your hard work during this campaign. I know there were many long hours of phone calls, social media frenzies, and door knocks, but you all really busted your butts for this woman, and she deserves every effort you put into this.”

  The volunteers whooped and cheered, and Bear nodded to Alessia to stand up with him.

  “I don’t know how to thank you all for your roles,” Alessia began. “You’ve been spectacular, and even if I don’t win, I truly believe this is the best campaign team Brooklyn has ever seen.”

  They all cheered and yelled some more, but Bear held up his hand to silence them again as he turned up the volume on the news channel. All of our heads whipped around to see a graph on the screen behind an older male reporter. One side of the graph was decidedly higher than the other, but before I could nail down what I was looking at, the man on the screen explained it.

  “While only seventy percent of the votes are in, the
election board has agreed we can officially declare the winner of the Brooklyn District Attorney,” he announced as the camera zoomed in on a picture of Alessia. “Your new DA is Ms. Alessia Pizzano!”

  With that, the room went wild.

  The waiters popped the tops on bottles of champagne, and I decided they must have practiced that move to do it in sync like that. They filled the flutes on each table with the foaming drink as everyone clapped and shouted for Alessia’s victory.

  Glasses clinked together in celebration, and tears streamed down Alessia’s face as she stared at the screen with her mouth open. Even the waiters that poured the drinks stopped to clap with the volunteers, and I squeezed Alessia’s hand proudly. She had beaten Chatel and taken the District Attorney’s office. It was over.

  Bear turned up the volume again to hear the reporter continue.

  “In what is being called a landslide victory, Ms. Pizzano received over eighty-five percent of the votes taken so far,” the reporter said with an amused smile. “The professionals tell us that means Mr. Chatel can no longer catch up. This one will be in the history books, folks.”

  “Oh, my God,” Alessia murmured.

  I grabbed her hand and stood up. I lifted her hand above her head like the winning boxer, and she grinned as her campaign team continued to cheer and squeal with her victory. Many of the volunteers came up to the table to shake her hand, and tears continued to pour down her face as she thanked every one of them by name. Each of the waiters that hustled in and out of the Belvedere Room stopped by to congratulate her, and I wondered how many of them had voted for her, too.

  Finally, the cheering died down, and Alessia stood to address the room.

  “First of all, holy shit!” she announced, and they all laughed with her. “I can’t believe we did this! I want to thank each and every one of you for your dedication to my campaign. I can’t wait to make a difference in Brooklyn!”

  “Ms. Pizzano, are you ready to do a formal acceptance?” Mateo asked as he held up his phone. “We can stream it whenever you’re ready.”

  “Yes, of course!” she replied as she smoothed out her dress and dabbed at her eyes before he gave her a thumbs up. “Brooklyn, I can’t thank you enough for your support and now, your votes. I am proud to be your newest District Attorney, and I promise to serve you well. I look forward to proving that you made the right choice, and I will bring justice and transparency back into the office of the Brooklyn DA!”

  The campaign team cheered again, and Mateo grinned as he ended the video and high-fived Bear.

  “Add another one to our list!” Mateo laughed.

  “The underdog wins again!” Bear bellowed.

  Soon, everyone was drinking wine and eating pasta, lobster, and lamb chops. The food was delicious, and I was trying to finish the huge ribeye I’d ordered when another text buzzed on my phone.

  Tell Alessia congrats, Anthony sent. Well, maybe not from me, but you get the gist.

  I will, I replied with a laughing emoji.

  I tucked my phone back into my pocket with a chuckle, and Alessia looked at me curiously.

  “Just another congratulation message for you,” I explained with a wink.

  “That’s it, right?” she asked. “Just congrats, no asking for favors?”

  “No favors at all,” I reassured her. “The best person for the job won the election. That’s what matters to my client.”

  “Good,” the new DA replied with a smile.

  The celebration continued for several hours, and I had to switch my drink to water, so I’d be able to drive home. I had a few other celebratory activities in mind as well, but I’d hold off on bringing that up. Alessia was clearly having a great time at the party, and I didn’t want to interrupt.

  Some of the volunteers figured out how to link a phone to the projector, and next thing I knew, the election party turned into a karaoke party. Half-drunk team members were slurring the words to “Party in the USA” as they leaned on each other and drank more champagne and wine. Even Bear joined in on the fun and belted out a hearty rendition of “Friends in Low Places,” a country song that even I knew, and I was nearly crying from laughter when he made a few references to Chatel’s friends in low places.

  When it was nearly ten, a few of the volunteers asked if they could order dessert, and I agreed as I called for the tab. I debated ordering a tiramisu and decided to have the waiter box it up for me.

  “I might leave early,” I whispered to the waiter. “Just put everything on this card, and I have a cash tip for you guys. There’s three of you, right?”

  His eyes widened as I slipped him twelve hundred-dollar bills to split between them, and he rushed off to charge my card for the food and drinks. While we waited, most of the volunteers were making plans for a trip to the bar, and Mateo and Bear were challenging them to a drinking competition. I laughed at the idea of Mateo winning it, but I knew Bear could put the alcohol away without blinking.

  “They can’t see that Bear is at least three times their size?” Alessia giggled when I turned back to the table. “There’s no way any of them could keep up.”

  “Better hope they don’t put money on it,” I chuckled. “Are you wanting to go celebrate with them? Or would you rather come celebrate with me?”

  Alessia turned to me with flushed cheeks and hooded eyes that said she’d chosen the latter option. I grabbed her hand and slipped out the door into the hallway. We nearly bumped into the waiter, and he handed me my credit card and boxed dessert with a smile.

  “Thank you, Mr. Morgan,” he said. “You’re always welcome at Gargiulo’s.”

  “No problem,” I replied. “Give me a call if they need anything else after I’m gone.”

  “Of course, sir,” he answered with a nod. “Have a good night!”

  “Oh, I will!” I called out as I continued down the hallway, and Alessia giggled and squeezed my arm.

  We ran out to my car and slid inside. I turned the heater on as the skin on her exposed thighs dimpled with goosebumps in the cool November air. Then I hauled ass across Brooklyn. The voting traffic was still relatively heavy, and I could feel my frustration rise when it took almost twice the time to get back to my apartment. Alessia calmed me with a soothing hand on my thigh, but my heart began to thump inside my chest when her soft hand traveled up my pantleg.

  I groaned softly and whipped my Mercedes in and out of each lane to get to my building. When I finally pulled into the parking garage, I could hardly wait to get her upstairs.

  “Hey, Mr. Morgan!” Sulla greeted me as I pulled Alessia along behind me toward the elevators. “How are you tonight?”

  “Fantastic!” I replied with a grin just before the elevator doors shut.

  “You’re really in a rush to celebrate,” Alessia giggled and laced her fingers through mine.

  “With you?” I turned to meet her hazel eyes. “Absolutely.”

  The elevator dinged as we arrived on my floor, and we both hurried down the hall to my apartment. The door had barely shut before our clothes and box of tiramisu hit the ground.

  We celebrated over and over until it was almost midnight, and we both collapsed onto my bed in a sweaty heap. I looked over to see Alessia gnawing on her bottom lip, and I narrowed my eyes on her.

  “What’s on your mind, counselor?” I teased.

  “This has been great,” she sighed and turned to sit up on her elbow. “It’s just that my life is about to be crazy, and well, I just don’t know if I’ll have time for, ah, you know…”

  “A relationship?” I asked with a chuckle. “Don’t even worry about that. You’re a big, bad District Attorney now.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that!” she laughed. “I just mean things will be different once I’m in the office all the time. I’ll just be really busy.”

  “Like I said, don’t worry,” I assured her. “You can call me when you want to, and if you don’t, I promise I won’t go crying to the press that you broke my heart. I was only hopi
ng to help you win. This has just been the icing on the cake.”

  “Good,” she murmured before she yawned and laid back on the pillow. “I’ve had a lot of fun with you.”

  “Me too,” I agreed.

  I felt my eyes getting heavier when I heard the shrill ring of a cell phone.

  “What in the world?” Alessia muttered. “It’s late.”

  She climbed out of bed and retrieved her phone from the living room floor with a confused look on her face.

  “Who is it?” I mouthed.

  “Yes, thank you,” she said to the caller as her eyes widened. “I-- what? You want to-- yes, um, he’s right here.”

  Alessia held the phone out to me with a bewildered look on her face.

  “What?” I wasn’t sure if I was just tired or maybe still a little drunk, but I was completely lost.

  “He congratulated me on my victory, and he said he looks forward to working together for a brighter future,” she said. “But he wants to talk to you now.”

  “Who?” I repeated.

  “The Mayor,” Alessia answered as she handed me the phone.

  What the hell?

  “Hello, Mr. Mayor,” I said in my professional voice. “What can I do for you?”

  “You and your boss ran a great campaign,” Webber murmured. “A stunning victory, as it seems. They’re calling it one of the greatest landslides in New York’s history. How about that?”

  “Ah, thanks,” I replied. “But you already talked to my boss, and she did most of the work. I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “Oh, no, I mean your other boss,” the Mayor hissed. “And this isn’t over. In fact, it’s just the beginning, Mr. Morgan.”

  End of Book 3

  Author’s Notes

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