Mafia Protection (Tomassi Series Book 1)

by AA Lee

  Ella was animated in her goals, completely forgetting about her nerves as she talked of Santiago’s. Her love of the restaurant was easy for Angelo to see—almost contagious. He could not resist what he was going to ask next.

  “All right, you have convinced me. If I decide to go through with the sale, why don’t you give me a tour of Santiago’s next week after I finish signing the paperwork?”

  Angelo could feel Rafa’s eyes staring a hole through his head. He was probably wondering what Angelo was up to and how much money it would cost. Angelo could not help it. Something about Ella caught his attention. She knew he had money if he wanted to spend several million dollars, yet she acted so natural. If nothing else, he was curious.

  “Of course. I know Mr. Santiago won’t mind at all if I show you around. You will love all of the hidden gems it hides.”

  “All right.” Angelo pulled out his wallet and handed Ella his card. “My information is on there. If you have any questions, that number belongs to Rafa. He handles my business affairs. Unless you hear otherwise…” Angelo looked at Rafa.

  “He’s available next Tuesday,” Rafa said as the Escalade stopped outside of Santiago’s again.

  “All right, I’m holding you to that tour of the restaurant next Tuesday then.”

  “Okay,” Ella agreed.

  “Good.” Angelo opened his door and held out his hand to her. With all of the talk, she took his hand without thinking, and then her face turned bright red. Her embarrassment made Angelo smirk. “We will be back next week, Ms. Collins.”

  “Okay. Will you tell me what time you plan to come?”

  “I will give you a call Tuesday morning to confirm. Unless something comes up, I will see you around six,” Angelo said and stepped back inside the Escalade. But even as Brett started driving away, he could still see Ella standing by the door, seeming slightly confused about what had just happened.

  CHAPTER 4

  That night, Angelo sat at his desk in the Royal Flush Hotel, flipping over multiple documents that Rafa laid in front of him. Some contained numbers; others showed charts and reflected the growth of his businesses. The last few were printouts he requested from Rafa.

  Angelo rested his head in his hand and thought about her. Where had a woman like Ella been hiding? Did she grow up in Orlando and what were her parents like? He assumed they were low profile with how proper she was. And was there more meaning behind her attachment to Santiago’s than merely childhood visits?

  Wait. Why did Angelo care in the first place? Since when had he looked deeper than the surface for any woman? It must have been her pretty, blue eyes or maybe her smile. Angelo looked at the ceiling. It was definitely her smile—pure and genuine, just like her childlike excitement for the restaurant. Everything about her was real.

  “Angelo,” Rafa said his name and tapped on the desk. He was waiting for Angelo’s approval on the numbers so he could leave for the night. “Tell me you aren’t thinking about her.”

  “Thinking about who?” Angelo ignored the question and started signing.

  “That girl.”

  “What girl?” Angelo nodded when he reached the end of the stack and slid the paperwork back to Rafa. Then he tossed a brown envelope on top. “I want the information on Santiago’s kept separate,” he said and leaned back in his oversized chair, propping his feet on top of the desk.

  “Angelo, what good is a tiny restaurant like that going to do for the group?”

  “It’s personal,” Angelo said. “I wanted that information for myself—not the group.”

  Rafa shook his head. “Angelo, it can’t happen. You know that. Your father will never approve of her. Even if he did, she is no match for your lifestyle. She could never handle someone like you. She’s too innocent.”

  “For god’s sake, Rafa, shut up. There isn’t anything to happen. Let it go.” Angelo scooted back and grabbed a glass and a bottle of bourbon out of the drawer. “Just leave—go wherever it is you are going tonight. If I knew you were going to be this big of a pain in the ass, I would have never asked you to join the group.”

  “Yeah?” Rafa huffed. “And if I knew you were going to ignore my advice, I would have explored my options.”

  “Right…we both know you liked the money.”

  “Well…” Rafa looked thoughtful for a moment. “It helped, but don’t think that was the only reason I joined you.”

  “Really? Then tell me what other reasons you had.”

  “Maybe another time.” Rafa left the question unanswered.

  Whatever were Rafa’s reasons for joining, Angelo knew he wanted to belong. He looked up to Angelo as the older brother he never had. Once he learned how the group worked, he only looked forward. Angelo never questioned the circumstances of Rafa’s life before he joined; Rafa never volunteered. Maybe Angelo would know more about him one day. The only thing he knew for sure was that Rafa was fiercely loyal.

  “Fine, I think I’m going to the casino for a while.” Angelo stood up. “I need a break from all of this paperwork.”

  “What?” Rafa returned in a low, flat voice. “You are going to the casino—alone? You know there is always some sort of trouble that I have to fix the next morning every time you go alone.”

  “No, Jim is down there. Thomas and Sammy is too—maybe Brett.”

  Rafa just shook his head, looking worried about Angelo going alone. “Fine, I’m leaving. I have a life too…and a date—of sorts. I’ll be staying in my room here tonight. Call me if you need me.”

  “Finally,” Angelo sighed after Rafa left. The tight muscles in his neck were starting to loosen as he swallowed another shot and then two. He enjoyed the burning sensation of the liquor as it trickled down his throat. He needed the numbing effects. After a morning with his father and an upcoming renovation, he did not want to think.

  ***

  The elevator doors opened to the most prestigious casino in Miami, on floor one of the Royal Flush Hotel. Angelo had opened the hotel for business almost five years earlier and added the casino a year after that. With rows of slot machines, pristine oak tables for poker, and a full-sized circular bar in the middle, the casino was the highlight of the hotel. Profits continued to rise since its addition.

  Angelo strolled through the crowded room. An air about him demanded respect by merely passing guests. He stepped through the door of the VIP room in back where men in expensive suits sat around several tables with chips stacked high. While the private attendants served, women danced in the soft glow of the chandelier, exchanging glances with some of the men. The dancers would possibly entertain further after their shifts. Angelo did not ask questions about what went on in their personal time.

  The dancers interested him none as he walked to the bar. Angelo stared straight ahead and looked at the bartender. An instant understanding passed between him and his newest member, Thomas, with a mere glance. Thomas unlocked a private cabinet, popped a cork, and handed Angelo a bottle. “Good evening, Mr. Tomassi.”

  Angelo nodded and looked around. There were games in session at every table so he took a seat at the closest one to the bar. While he waited, he poured himself a glass of wine. It seemed that the more he drank, the more he could drink. He found it funny how that worked.

  He did not wait long. Angelo still inhaled the fragrant liquid in his glass when the card game ended. The dealer waited. After Angelo took his first drink, Jim, the tallest of the group with straight black hair and brown eyes, took a seat beside him.

  “Boss,” said Jim. Jim was one of Angelo’s highest-ranking members. It surprised Angelo when Jim nodded at the dealer and wanted to play.

  “I thought you didn’t like to gamble?” Angelo passed his bottle of wine to Jim.

  Jim shrugged. “I’m feeling lucky.”

  “Really.” Angelo smirked. “Is that because your brother isn’t around?”

  “No…it’s because I am using his money. Ray bet me five hundred dollars on that last boxing tournament. Can you belie
ve that? He’ll be here in a minute when he’s done sulking.”

  Angelo smiled. Jim and Ray were inseparable and had been since he found them on the steps of his hotel without a dollar to spare. He gave them an opportunity; their loyalty and fast thinking skills earned them a spot at the top. Angelo could count on them to drop whatever they were doing when he called. They were worth every bit of his time.

  “Where’s Sammy?” Angelo asked.

  “He’s coming. I think he was grabbing more glasses for the bar.”

  Angelo picked up the cards in front of him—nothing but junk. He did not care. He was not here to prove himself. “Fold,” he said without exchanging for new cards; then he picked up his glass of wine while three other players threw out their cards. Two players remained. It was Jim’s bet.

  “A hundred,” Jim said and threw in his chips.

  “Raise you three hundred,” a man with light brown hair and blue eyes said from across the table.

  Angelo looked at him from above the rim of his glass. He did not recognize the man. Had he come in before when Angelo was away? Somebody must have given him a pass to the VIP room.

  “All right.” Jim matched the raise and pointed. “Call.”

  Angelo lowered his glass in disbelief when the man showed his cards. Any veteran player could tell that the man did not know his game. Did he really believe he would win? “Hey,” Angelo pointed. “You are going to have to bluff a whole lot better than that if you expect to win with a pair of fours.”

  “I was just warming up,” the man mumbled as Jim pulled in the chips.

  “Anti,” said the dealer and passed out the next hand.

  Angelo looked at his cards. He felt that having four hearts was good enough to continue. It was his bet. “One hundred,” he said.

  The next two players matched the bet, followed by the light brown-haired man across from him. “Here’s mine and I raise four hundred.”

  Jim threw in his cards. “Not this hand,” he sat back to watch the rest of the game.

  “I’ll match your raise and raise you two,” said Angelo. He looked straight into the man’s blue eyes when the other two players folded.

  “You’re going to be sorry.” The man threw in the extra chips

  Angelo threw out the one club and received that fifth heart he needed—a flush. He felt good about the draw. “Here is my bet.” He slid in the chip.

  “Raise you five.” The man tried to play off the large amount by casually tossing in the chips, but the beads of sweat on his forehead proved that he had nothing in his hand.

  “I call,” said Angelo’s incredulous voice as he tossed in his own. The man turned over an ace and a jack. “Really,” Angelo scoffed and turned over five hearts. “You bet over a thousand dollars on two high cards. I was just hoping that you were trying to act dumb so you could show us some smart moves later, but you’re sweating through your shirt. Go on and get out of here. I like to win, but playing against you isn’t fun. It takes more than money to play in this room. Go blow your money out there.” He pointed. “Come back when you have some skills to match.”

  The brown-haired man hung his head and stood after Angelo called him out in front of the table full of people. Angelo did not mind taking the cash, but he hated seeing men create an image of power by simply throwing it around. What was it about money that made people feel smart? They were just as dumb with or without it.

  Angelo looked down for a second. He felt the smallest twinge of guilt as he pulled in the chips, but then something sharp touched the back of his neck. His eyes shut with the chill. His breathing ceased. His fingers clenched tight as the rounded metal muzzle pressed further. Would he lose his life over a poker match?

  “I would think hard about what you’re doing before you click that hammer,” Angelo grit between his teeth. Jim looked at him. His hand reached for the gun inside his coat when Angelo shook his head.

  “Lower your gun,” said another voice from behind. Angelo let out the breath he held. Rafa could not have come at a better time.

  “I’m sorry,” the man pleaded as Angelo turned around. “I wasn’t going to shoot.” Angelo’s stomach had knotted in seconds. The heat of the nausea reached his throat.

  “Of course you weren’t,” Angelo said. His voice became calm as though the matter was a simple squabble over a wrong drink. “Come with me; we will discuss your actions in private.” Angelo looked around the table as he started to stand. “Jim, you stay here. I am out for the night. Have everyone carry on.” Then he walked to the bar, looking at another new member of his group with parted brown hair and a small birthmark on his left cheek. “Sammy, I’m going to need you back here for a few minutes.”

  The door behind the poker players clicked shut. Rafa stood with folded arms against its entrance while Sammy forced the brown-haired man on a chair.

  “So,” Angelo began. “How did you think pulling a gun on me would work in your favor?” The man stayed silent. “What? Now you are not even man enough to answer me. That is another reason you should have never come to this room. You are a coward, but I am going to give you another chance to answer me.” The man squirmed. Fear reflected from his tearful eyes, yet he would not speak.

  “Nothing,” Angelo huffed with disgust. “You can’t even answer for yourself.” Angelo reached out and grabbed his jaw, looking the man square in the eyes. “Why did you pull a gun on me?” he demanded in a low but furious tone.

  “I don’t know why,” the man finally answered. Angelo slammed his fist into the man’s gut, knocking the wind from his lungs.

  “You didn’t even think it through—the consequences. I don’t like people who act on impulse. You should have never brought a gun in this hotel. Playing with the big boys was your first mistake. Pulling a gun on me…” He shook his head. “That was your last. Sammy…handle him.” Angelo pointed at Sammy and walked to the door. “Rafa,” Angelo slapped the top of his chest. “You couldn’t have timed that better. I don’t know how you always seem to know when something is wrong.”

  Rafa’s brows lifted as though it was some secret gift; then he moved out of the way so Angelo could leave.

  CHAPTER 5

  Six days passed. Ella looked down at the white tablecloth and then at the front door. She had done this repeatedly over the last half hour. Her sweaty palms were evidence of her anticipation for six o’clock. No matter how many times she rubbed her hands on her skirt, they remained clammy and uncomfortable. She did not know whether to expect Angelo early or if he would arrive on time. Ella gave many tours of homes and offices, but none made her this nervous. What was it about him that filled her with anxiety?

  “Mr. Santiago,” an older woman with speckled gray hair said. There were two women and they were following Mr. Santiago to his office. “Thank you for agreeing to meet us tomorrow morning. I am happy that we found this place. It will be perfect.”

  “Of course,” replied Mr. Santiago. However, Ella noticed no joy in his eyes. His back slouched more than the years on his body usually allowed. His head hung toward the floor.

  “Would you mind if we took one more look around? I would like to see the wine cellar again. It will be a great hidden cubicle for our saltwater taffy line.”

  Saltwater taffy, Ella thought. They wanted to replace the antique wooden wine cellar with lines of colored candy against the walls. Mr. Santiago should have forbidden such a mockery of the cellar’s intended use. The women had no idea what they wanted to buy. Ella vowed never to eat taffy again.

  Mr. Santiago took a breath and looked at Ella. Her face flushed as she swallowed back any tears that threatened to escape. This was it. Santiago’s final days as a restaurant were numbered.

  Ella would not watch as the women gloated over how they would remodel the place. She stood up. She could not stand to be around the women another minute and flung open the front door.

  Ella covered her face with her hands as she sat on a wooden bench at the end of the entrance. She lost her composu
re. She used to travel with her parents to Key Biscayne every holiday. Many happy memories with her mother were here: how she talked about the months she spent away at school; how they shared a slice of chocolate cake because they were too full to have their own; how they watched the sunsets on the patio over a cup of tea. Her last smiles and laughter with her mother would fade away with another pointless boutique.

  “Ms. Collins.”

  “Hmm?” Ella muttered. Her vision blurred through her watery eyes. With the prospective buyers, she forgot all about Angelo. She looked up and around him, disoriented as she searched for the two other men.

  “Have you forgotten that I confirmed a meeting with you this evening?”

  “Oh,” she said and shook her head. She opened her mouth to continue but instead looked straight past Angelo where the two women buyers exited the restaurant. They were chatting, still giddy about transforming the place. Ella felt the inside of her stomach tighten.

  “Ms. Collins,” Angelo said again. This time his tone was dry and annoyed.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Tomassi.” Ella blinked a couple of times and wiped the single escaped tears from the corners of her eyes. “There will be no point in showing you the restaurant now. Those two women who left are the ones who are going to buy it. They start the paperwork tomorrow.”

  “And what do they have to do with me? You did agree to give me a tour.”

  “Yes, I did,” Ella sighed and gripped the arm of the bench, pushing herself up. “If you would still like to see the restaurant, I will show you around.”

  “Yes, I would.”

  Did he not just hear her? Ella could not figure out why Angelo still wanted a tour. However, she did agree and he was standing in front of her. She might as well have one last good look herself.