by K. D Clark
“Did you shower here?”
He nodded as he chewed his food. “Yea, after I worked out I figured….”
“What? Where did you work out?”
His eyebrows fumed together confused. “Don’t you know this building has a workout room? The bottom floor next to the—”
“I know where it’s at,” she snapped.
For the second time this morning she wished she could take her words back. What was wrong with her? Andre comes over in the middle of the night, comforts her, and stays to make her breakfast in the morning and she can’t stop being frustrated with him. Guilt settled into her stomach.
“I’m sorry; it’s just….”
He held up his hand shutting her up. “Eat.”
She nodded, and they ate in silence. She scarfed the food down surprised at how hungry she was. That’s what drinking on an almost empty stomach does to you. She’s lucky she didn’t throw up everywhere. Once she finished her food and drank another glass of water her headache had subsided to almost nothing.
“Thank you,” she said.
He didn’t say anything; instead he stood from the bed and let the towel drop to the floor. It took everything in Cassandra to keep her jaw from dropping as he stood in front of her, naked. His cock swung between his legs as he walked over to the small sofa and picked up the pair of sweats he wore last night. He pulled them on along with his T-shirt. He grabbed the keys off the coffee table and tucked them into his pocket.
“I gotta get to the office,” he said. For a split second, she wondered what it would be like if he stayed. Would he crawl back in bed with her and sleep until the evening? Probably not after how rude she’d been to him. He walked back over to the bed, bent down, and gave her a kiss on the forehead before leaving without another word. In the empty apartment Cassandra continued to stare at the front door he’d just gone through, trying to figure out what had just happened.
Andre
“What did I say?” Andre asked the men sitting around the conference table. He stood at the head of the table, rubbing a hand over his face. Matteo sat in the first chair to the left of him. Matteo was the only man not wearing a suit. His men had tried to dress up before meeting the boss. Whereas Cassandra tried to be a ghost in her operation, he was the opposite. He wanted his men to know exactly the kind of person they were up against when they made stupid mistakes. He worked directly with his men as much as he possibly could. He’d started out as a lower-level drug dealer, and he still liked to get his hands dirty. Nothing could take him by surprise if he was working with his men each and every day. That’s why he hated the fact that he had to lay low here in the States. He couldn’t chance one of Cassandra’s men spotting him in the streets. When he wasn’t directly involved with the day-to-day things like this happened. It was hard enough letting Felix take care of things in Canada, but he wouldn’t let things fly under his radar here. The room grew thick with tension.
“Come on; speak up.”
Someone mumbled.
“What was that?” he asked.
“You said to keep our heads down. Hands clean and focus on the product.”
“Yes. Heads down, hands clean, and what the fuck do I get?” He paused for a moment before slamming his hands down on the table. “A fucking dead Cosa Nostra capo!”
He locked eyes with all his men as he looked around the table. “Now, where was I unclear?” he asked.
No one spoke. Some men looked back and forth at each other while others had their eyes trained to the wooden conference table.
“Who pulled the trigger?”
When silence answered him back Andre sat down in the black office chair. He leaned back trying to appear more relaxed.
“I don’t expect you to rat. I expect the person who pulled the trigger to be a man and own up to his faults.”
A brief second passed before a young man near the end of the conference table spoke.
“It was me,” he blurted. Andre took a moment to examine the man. He looked to be in his early twenties or late teens with straight blond hair that was combed to the back of his head.
“Where did you come from?” Andre asked. Like himself, most of the men in his organization have moved up through other gangs. Having smaller crime organizations intertwined threw off the FEDS. When they started tracing things back to these gangs, they didn’t realize a bigger organization was at large controlling more than they could imagine.
“Hell’s Angels.”
“You’ve been patched?” Andre asked.
The man nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Why’d you join us?”
A hint of a smile tugged at the man’s lips. “I heard I could move up, grow, make more money.”
Andre smiled back. “Oh, yea, you can make some money. Move up. You can have anything you want in here, but first you must learn respect.”
Andre pulled his Beretta M9 from the holster at his back and slid it across the table. The young man caught it before it could drop over the edge.
“Put it in your mouth,” Andre demanded looking the young man in the eye. The man moved his hand away from the gun as if he had been burned.
“You want money, right? You want to move up in this world? You want power? Lift up the gun and put it in your mouth.”
All eyes were trained on Andre as if he had grown two heads.
“Andre,” Matteo whispered. He lifted his hand silencing Matteo at his side.
He leaned closer into the table. “I won’t ask again.”
With a shaky hand, the man lifted the gun as if it weighed a hundred pounds. He looked around the room. As if pleading for someone to say something. No one did. He opened his mouth and placed the barrel inside.
“Now pull the trigger.”
“Andre!” Matteo hissed again. The man shook his head as a tear fell down his face. Some of the men around the table widened their eyes. Those closest to the man scouted their chairs back, bracing themselves.
“This is what you wanted, right? A chance? Here’s your chance. Pull the trigger, or I’ll do it for you. Die with dignity.”
Tears now streamed down the man’s face, but at those words, he sniffled and sat up straighter. He slammed his eyes shut. Took two deep breaths. Then pulled the trigger. Besides Andre, each man in the room jumped. The man’s eyes snapped open. Relief flooding his face and he pulled the gun from his mouth and set it on the table. Andre wouldn’t allow a young man to die today in his office building because he had made a stupid mistake. But he would allow him to be taught a lesson.
“Respect. My words are not to be taken lightly. Next time I won’t be so generous. So like I said before heads down, hands clean, focus on the product.”
Chapter Six
Cassandra
The sun had started to set as she pulled her Range Rover around the circle drive of the house. Most people would probably consider the house excessive since it was only her mother and father who lived there. With six bedrooms and six bathrooms, big white pillars lined the wrap around porch. The backyard was the size of a small park. Her parents loved it, but Cassandra hated the emptiness. It was why she’d chosen to live in the small studio in the city. She had given Leo the day off; even though he had fought her on it, she eventually won. She wanted to make the hour drive out to her parent’s house alone so she had some time to think. She parked her car and walked inside. As she stepped into the foyer the smell of pasta filled her nose. Her mother was probably finishing up dinner. Cassandra loved to cook as well. Her mother taught her everything she knew, but running Cosa Nostra didn’t leave much time for her to put the skills to use.
“Mom?” she called through the large home. Her voice echoed off the walls.
“In the kitchen!”
She kicked off her shoes and left them by the front door, the same way she used to as a teenager. She padded across the marble floors into the large kitchen. Her mother had to have top-of-the-line cooking equipment. The dining room was completely separate with a table big
enough to seat ten. Her mom had a white apron wrapped around her waist, and she leaned against the island. Cassandra sat in one of the stools across from her.
“Oh my gosh, my daughter that never calls has graced us with her presence,” her mom joked as she leaned against the counter. Her hair fell down her back in long waves, much like Cassandra’s. They were similar in looks. Her father used to say, Flora made that baby all by herself. Unlike the other mob wives, her mother hadn’t put on much weight as she aged. She’d kept her curves and flat stomach after all these years. Only the slight wrinkles on her face and hands gave away her age.
“I get busy; you know this.”
“Mhmm.” Her mother waved her hand dismissing the conversation. “I missed you, so has your father. He keeps talking about us having another baby as if that’s even possible. You better give him a grandchild soon, Cass, before he goes crazy.”
Cassandra’s face cracked into a smile and she giggled. “Papa just wants something to take care of. Get him a dog.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “That’s a good idea! You know he’ll hate it at first. Act like he’s too macho to be taken care of a dog.”
“Yea, until you catch them curled up on the couch together.”
Her mother smiled before turning back around and stirring whatever was in the large pot on the stove. Once she was done she sat in the barstool next to Cassandra. She set her elbow on the island propping her head up.
“So what’s up with you, Cass?”
“I need to talk to Papa about some business.”
“You’re being careful, right? You know I don’t like any of this, but I at least need to know you’re being safe out there.”
Cassandra nodded. “I am.”
Flora patted Cassandra’s leg before standing. “Good, your father’s in his office.”
Cassandra got off the stool and walked up the grand staircase to the second floor. She walked into the office without knocking. She’d never needed to. From the time she was able to reach a doorknob, her father had allowed her to walk into his office whenever she wanted; although, she’d walked in on some intense conversations Donati was having with his men. Her father would merrily wave her the rest of the way inside and tell her to close the door behind her. Her father had never hidden this life from her, and it now came as natural as breathing. Donati was seated behind the big wooden desk, eyes trained on his computer.
“Oh, Cass, the daughter that never calls.”
“How’d you know it was me?” she asked as she slid into one of the leather chairs opposite of him. He finally took his eyes off the computer, set his glasses down, and looked at her.
“Because you are the only person in this world who would dare walk into this office without knocking.”
“True.”
Donati crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, his large frame taking up a good amount of space.
“Leo came by earlier. He said you forced him to take the day off.”
“He deserves it,” she said.
“Ah, but was it for his benefit or yours?”
Cassandra stayed quiet.
Her father squinted his eyes. “I didn’t raise you to be mute.”
“I needed time to think,” she mumbled.
She wished Leo would stop running to her father about every little thing.
“I heard about the incident with your capo. Calvin was it?”
Cassandra nodded. “Yea.”
“I always liked him, loyal, determined. Did you handle it yet?”
“No, that’s why I’m here, Papa.”
“Ah, so this isn’t just a friendly visit. I’m insulted,” he said putting his hand over his heart.
“No, you’re not,” she said.
“No, I’m not. Go on.”
She sighed. “We got people in our streets cutting into our profit…a lot. I sent Calvin to figure out what was going on. I thought he would have it handled. Now he’s dead, and this is a much bigger problem than I originally thought. These guys are good.”
“And you’re better you know that. You’re making this a big deal, and you’re getting emotional because your capo died. Where’s Gio?” Donati asked.
“Finishing up some loose ends in Mexico.”
“Get him here, find out who’s in your streets, have a sit-down, and end this. It doesn’t need to get messy. You know what to do,” he said.
Cassandra nodded. “Yea, I do.”
Her father cleared his throat and sat up in the chair, “So what’s this I hear about a boy?”
Cassandra’s eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me. I have ears and eyes everywhere.”
“You mean Leo.”
He waited for her to respond.
“His name is Andre; he’s just a friend.”
Donati opened a drawer behind his desk and then pulled out a manila folder and dropped it on the desk in front of her, saying, “Andre Murphy owns a few clubs and some restaurants, but most of his wealth is tied up in New York real estate and has been for a while now.”
Cassandra flipped through the folder. Copies of business licenses, photos of Andre walking down the street, birth certificate, etc.
“He goes to the office every day.”
“You’ve been building a folder on him?” she asked.
“More than you’ve been doing,” Donati said.
Cassandra didn’t say anything because her father was right. She should have done more research into Andre. Had him followed. Made sure he was whom he had said. She wanted to be annoyed that her father had been digging into her private life, but she had to admit she was a bit relieved.
“Just be careful, Cass. Now let’s go downstairs. Your mom should be almost done with dinner, and she won’t hesitate to eat without us.”
Cassandra and Donati made their way down the stairs to the big dining room. Her mom was finishing setting out plates and silverware.
“Just us tonight?” Cassandra asked.
“Yea, everyone’s a little busy right now,” her mom said.
Dinner was usually a big event, and her parents often invited her aunts and cousins over to eat. Tonight the table felt empty compared to usual. Her father sat at the head of the table. Her mom placed a big bowl of pasta in the middle, along with fresh bread. Once everyone had served themselves, Cassandra spoke.
“How’s the store going, Mom?”
Flora ran a small bookstore not far from the mansion. She obviously never needed to with the amount of money the mob brought in they lived very comfortably. When Cassandra was younger, Flora would argue with Donati that she needed to keep busy and if he wanted a housewife he should have thought of that before marrying her. Eventually, Donati saw it as an opportunity and cleaned some of the money through the bookstore.
Flora sighed. “It’s a mess right now. I hired a new girl who doesn’t know fiction from nonfiction. The shelves are a mess, and we have some authors coming in next week for signings.”
“I told you, you needed to fire that girl,” her father said.
“And I told you she just needs some training. She’ll get the hang of it.”
Her father mumbled something under his breath. Her mother just shook her head and smiled. After dinner, she helped her mom clean up before promising to stop by more often.
She left the house and headed to Tempest. Once she got there, she wasn’t surprised that there wasn’t much business to attend to. With Calvin’s death, she had her men keeping an eye out on the streets. Giovanni was still in Mexico. She called him to tell him he needed to get back and help her handle some stuff. She’d kept it vague, not wanting to raise alarm. With the club seeming to have a slow night and nothing dire to attend to, Cassandra found herself twiddling her thumbs. Finally, she decided to make her way home.
She walked into the dark apartment, dropped her keys and the Beretta she had at her back on the kitchen island before kicking off her shoes. It was rare she found herself at home this early in the night. She
wouldn’t be tired for at least a few more hours. She raked her fingers through her hair trying to rid her body of the stress. She opened the fridge rumbling inside for a late-night snack, not being surprised when she couldn’t find anything. She usually just grabbed something to eat while she was out. It must have been a miracle how Andre was able to make breakfast this morning. As she stood up to go grab her keys and find some food, she heard ruffling coming from the bed. Her heart caught in her throat, and she instantly regretted letting Leo have the day off. She’d also insisted she didn’t need anyone following her today. She wanted all her capos on the street. She eyed the gun laying on the counter and grabbed it before turning on the light. It took her eyes a few minutes to adjust before she realized who was rolling around in her bed rubbing his eyes. She let out a breath before dropping the gun back on the island.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she exclaimed, walking toward Andre as he continued to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He stretched, and the sheet fell down enough to expose his naked chest.
He sat up in bed. “I was sleeping.”
“In my bed? How did you even get in here?”
He nodded in the direction of the front door as if it was the most obvious thing.
“What, so you just walked in?” she asked.
“No, had to pick the lock.” His eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. “Aren’t you a little early? It’s barely midnight.”
“You know I have so many questions right now, but I don’t even have the energy to deal with this,” she said before heading to the door and slipping her shoes back on. Andre jumped out of the bed, at the same time pulling on a T-shirt, jeans, and shoes. He grabbed his keys off the bedside table.
“I’ll drive.”
