Dealer and his Bestowed Bride (The Rossi Family Mafia Book 2)

by Avery Hawkes

  I groaned. Dammit, I knew what was coming as I glanced at the numbers on the shining device.

  “We are barely covering our expenses,” Simone said in his matter-of-fact tone. I watched him as he panned down the list of costs. His body language was stiff. This was the same talk he had given me last month and he was starting to grow weary of bugging me about it.

  “What do you say we do?”

  “If it were me?” He motioned his head toward the two girls who had been in the VIP area. “I would stop buying drinks for every set of legs with a heartbeat in this place.”

  “It gives women incentive to come, and makes the VIP area seem … I don’t know … VIP?”

  “When was the last time someone actually ordered bottle service?” Simone said.

  Never.

  I stood up from the sofa and walked a few steps so my back was facing him. He didn’t like that, but I couldn’t care less. The DJ had changed to the forever-high man and he was bobbing his head and pretending to turn knobs to his pre-recorded track.

  “Just launder more money,” I said, still watching the crowd. Crossing my arms behind my back. I knew what Simone’s answer would be before the words even left his mouth.

  “We are pushing it as it is with our outside funding.”

  He was right. The drug operation that was the lifeblood of all three of the clubs was a balancing act. In order to stay under the radar, the club needed to look like it was successful. The current clientele, the ones who begged for free drinks and snuck in without paying the cover, made it difficult to funnel millions into the club’s books. The laundering had to be gradual, so the percentage of drug money we put in our coffers was on the low side.

  “Luca.” I felt Simone’s hand on my shoulder. I finally turned to look at my twin brother. The stress was clear in his features. The wrinkle between his eyebrows was creased and his eyes were lidded with a dark look about them.

  “We need to cut expenses, do some promotions, something. We can’t just focus on our side venture and forget that we’re running a business.”

  I nodded curtly. “We’ll figure something out.” I replied.

  Simone’s shoulders lowered and he massaged the bridge of his nose. “You always say that.”

  “But we—”

  “Always figure something out,” he finished for me. “I know. But I’d rather not go bankrupt in the process.”

  “Does Father know about this?” I asked, gripping the metal that fenced in the VIP area. Our father, the kingpin of New Jersey and one of the most well-loved Mafia bosses in the United States. There wasn’t much you could hide from him. If he were to find out the club was failing, he would take it out from under me in a second.

  “No,” Simone replied. He glanced back down at his tablet. “I can futz some numbers in Q3, but I’m not a miracle worker.”

  My hand moved up to hold my chin in thought. “Do it. The last thing I want is him giving away what we built to our brothers.”

  We stood for a few moments, not speaking to each other, allowing the bad news to sink in. The bass from the speakers vibrated through me as I watched the sweaty bodies in the group bounce against each other. Even though the music was loud, I could barely hear it over my own thoughts.

  Fuck.

  Out of all of my brothers, Simone and I had been the ones that built a business. Rather than work the streets selling drugs, we built an empire in Jersey. If it were to fall apart … I couldn’t even think about it.

  There was a large bang on the other side of the building that piqued my interest. I had barely looked up before I saw some interesting movement by the door.

  Simone was standing by me in an instant, his eyes squinting to look into the distance. He was a bit more perceptive than I was, and from the way he tensed, I knew something was up.

  Usually, the bouncers at the front would be outside in order to make sure minors couldn’t come in as people were searched for drugs. However, I could see the hulking figures of our men inside peeking over the crowd.

  They were running.

  Everywhere they passed, people stopped dancing and stood out of their way. However, the crowd was so huge it was blocking my view.

  I pointed at the bodyguard who stood at the entry of the VIP area. “What’s going on?”

  All he could do was shrug. You could tell he was nervous; his hand was wavering over the place where he kept his gun. That didn’t make me feel any better.

  I stood next to him, wondering if I should have my Glock on me. I usually didn’t wear it on nights when I wasn’t expecting one of my drug men to come in. That was probably a mistake.

  We waited. Soon, the crowd parted and three men rushed through. Two bouncers stood, holding a wounded man between them. They rushed up to the VIP area and they looked at me like deer caught in the headlights. They both stared, waiting to hear what I would say.

  There was a reason that my father left me in charge of the drug trade in New Jersey. I was good at hiding my panic.

  I blinked, casually looking up and down at the wounded man. Immediately, I recognized him. He was a short guy; a pot bellied man from New York. His name was Rick … Nick … no, Dick?

  Whatever his name was, he was doubled over and grasping his side. A nasty dark red had crept across his front. The strong smell of iron hit my nostrils. Blood.

  Dick/Nick/Rick was the type of guy who was loyal to a fault. He employed good men and his specialty was getting drugs from one place to another. Our local warehouse was where we would package cocaine, meth, and marijuana and distribute it locally. He was the one who was the head of the warehouse.

  I nodded to the guards and they rushed to let him inside. As the two men placed him on my red-velvet couch, I leaned in to the VIP guard.

  “Keep the music going, make it louder. Offer free drinks to those who saw whatever that was, and keep an eye on social media for any pictures.”

  He nodded back and was lost in the crowd. Simone looked at me like I had two heads. After giving me a lecture on money, here I was offering free drinks to half of the crowd. He didn’t understand. If one person put an image of the wounded man on social media, the cops would tear our club apart. I didn’t think our books would stand up to such scrutiny.

  “What are you doing?” Simone’s voice was like ice.

  I ignored his question, raising my hand to point to my twin. “Call the men at the other clubs. I need them here in fifteen. Bring the big guns.”

  We stared at each other for a second. After a moment, I thought he was going to punch me. Instead, he pulled out his phone and started to text our men. They were all drug runners and criminals, and we would need them if this was an attack on our turf.

  “Move.” I said, turning my back to Simone and shooing the guards away. They stepped back from the injured man and stood on alert. The music in the club got a bit louder and the DJ was starting to dance more intensely. Hopefully it would distract whoever was interested in what was going on in the VIP area.

  I kneeled next to the injured man, grabbing his shoulder in support.

  “Dick, right?” I asked.

  “R-Rick,” he gasped in pain and then grimaced.

  “Right.” I glanced down at his wound. “Who did this to you? Why aren’t you in the hospital?”

  It took a few breaths for him to find his words. “I had t-to warn you …” He about coughed his lungs out and I was starting to get impatient. I shook his shoulder.

  “Warn me about what, Rick? WHAT?”

  “T-The Russians …” he said. I could barely hear him over the music. “T-they attacked the w-warehouse.”

  My blood ran cold. The Russians had been getting antsy lately. My father would often complain about them when we met at his house for Sunday brunch. They didn’t adhere to the boundaries we drew for drug trade. In the past month, we had two low-level scuffles already on the streets between the Mafia and the Rooskies.

  “What happened?” The man had trouble staying alert and awake. I
f he died, there would be a problem.

  “They k-killed my men,” he groaned.

  “How many of them did you see?”

  “I don’t know … a dozen or so?”

  “Did they take our product?” I leaned in, gripping the man’s shoulder.

  “All of it. All of it’s gone.”

  “Shit!” I stood, turning away from the man. There was a soft chair that I kicked near me, sending it careening into a wall. The guards looked at me uneasily, but I didn’t care.

  “Take him to the hospital,” I ordered one of the men. He hesitated for a moment, which added to my fury. “NOW!” I yelled.

  The bulky man leaned over Rick and helped the poor guy up. Simone’s face was lit up as he texted our backup.

  “Come on,” I told the other guard. My brother already knew to follow me, even if he was distracted by his device.

  On the side of the VIP area, there was a back door that usually stayed locked. It lead to a lonely hallway, with two connecting offices. That’s where Simone would spend most of his time during the work day. I would mingle and oversee the operations and he would take care of the paperwork.

  I turned into one of the offices and headed straight for a lock box that was hidden under one of the office desks. I reached into my back pocket for my key and after some fumbling was finally able to open the metal contraption.

  My firearm collection wasn’t the most impressive, but what I had would do. I grabbed a rifle and threw it at my brother, who just barely looked up in time to catch it.

  “W-wha?” His eyes darted between myself and the gun in his hands. Simone was never the one who had to do the dirty work, but today was different.

  “We need every man we’ve got,” I explained, taking as many guns and as much ammo as I could, handing a few pistols to the guard beside us. Simone looked like he was going to shoot me for a second, but he placed the rifle over his shoulder, waiting for me.

  “Are the men on their way?” I asked as the three of us exited the building and waited in the back gravel parking lot. The muffled sound of the shitty electronic music pounded in the distance. I prayed that no one had noticed Rick or called the authorities.

  It was warmer than usual for the fall, but the night’s breeze was nice after being cooped up inside the club all evening. We stood waiting in the parking lot.

  The longer we waited, the further away the Russians would get with my drugs. I couldn’t stand for that, not if I wanted to be a respectable Mafioso.

  “Dammit,” I pulled my sleeve down to look at my silver watch, “Where the hell are they?”

  “There’s traffic on the highway,” Simone told me, his phone out and checking every single route, “Even so, it shouldn’t be too long.”

  “Grraaaggh!” I paced back and forth, the gravel crunching beneath my leather shoes.

  Everything was out of control, and on my watch. I knew exactly how my father would react and it wasn’t good.

  After what seemed like a fucking eternity, headlights turned into the parking lot. The wheels on the beaters squealed and dust was propelled into the air as they came to a stop in front of us. Two cars, seven men.

  “Is this all we’ve got?” I asked, opening the door to talk to the driver in the first car. He shrugged.

  “What did you expect, the cavalry?”

  I threw my guns into the back seat next to a man with a scar on his forehead and a leather jacket, then took the front seat. Simone sat behind me, tapping his knee with his fingers nervously.

  “Go,” I said, exasperation in my words, “Just fucking get us to the warehouse.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Luca

  We sped off into the night and away from the dingy club. I rolled down the windows and watched as the night zoomed past. The warehouse was ten minutes away from the club, but I doubted that would be enough time to secure the product.

  Hundreds of thousands of dollars were slipping through my fingers and I was the one who would pay for it in the end. Even if my twin and I owned the business equally, I was the one who would be held responsible if the Russians got away with the drugs.

  The ride felt like it lasted forever and by the end I was tapping my foot hard against the ground.

  A hand reached out from behind me, offering me a few pills. Glancing over my shoulder, Simone raised his eyebrows in annoyance. One of our men spoke up. “It looks like your brother wants you to chill the fuck out, dude.”

  I snatched the pills from his hand and popped them into my mouth.

  “Hey man, share the love.” The guy with the scar in the backseat grumbled. Simone shrugged and showed the man his hands, he was all out.

  The quiet ones were always the best liars.

  It was a mixture of a lot of things, more than I knew a little pill should have. Mostly, it gave me courage and stopped the anxious jittering. I wasn’t hallucinating or feeling impaired, but the world did change for the better.

  The warehouse was located on a dock on the Hudson. We had bought the space because it was isolated from many of the major corporations that used the docks, but still had the security needed for us to receive and distribute illegal drugs. It was a fine balance between looking like we had a legitimate shipping company and not having too many eyes on what we were doing. From the small road that took us to the docks, I could see that the chain-linked gate that kept people without clearance out had been blown open. The box where security usually sat was empty, the flickering lights still on.

  My hand reached for my gun, making sure it was fully loaded with ammo. The others in the car followed suit.

  “Turn your headlights off,” I hissed at the driver. “Don't make too much sound.”

  The cars slowly inched past the gate and toward the looming building in the distance.

  Fog swirled among the trucks and the shipping equipment, making it hard to see a damned thing. As we came to a stop next to the warehouse entrance, I noticed that the door was wide open.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!” I said under my breath. We opened the doors quietly, and I used my own as cover as I exited the vehicle. My gun was at the ready, aimed on the open, ominous building.

  After a few seconds of watching and waiting for gun fire, I was able to relax my shoulders. While I wasn’t in any immediate danger, I realized that it wasn’t exactly a good thing.

  It meant that the Russians had already come and gone with our product. I lowered my gun and motioned with my shoulder for the men behind me to follow.

  Simone had his rifle at the ready, hands shaking. My twin wasn’t a warrior, I knew that. If he wanted to be a Mafia leader, he’d have to learn to get his hands dirty.

  We snuck forward into the open doors. It was barely lit by an outside lamp, leaving most of the building hidden in shadow and allowing anyone that was waiting for us to come and corner us.

  “Find the lights,” I ordered the man with the scar and leather jacket. He grunted in reply and ran into the darkness, feeling with his hand on the wall for the switch that would tell us what happened.

  The silence was cutting, more than I expected it to be.

  “Simone,” I said, “how many men were allocated to watch this warehouse?”

  “Five,” he replied.

  If there were five men, wouldn’t we have seen at least one of them? If the Russians had come through, that meant we were missing some men at least.

  Finally, the lights flicked on and I realized where those men had gone.

  Four bodies were lying in pools of red on the concrete ground. Bullet casings were strewn everywhere. There was no sign of their firearms and the spot where the crates had been was empty. We hid product in the crates, then shipped them separately to businesses we worked with.

  I ran my hand down my face, trying to focus on what I could do, rather than the dead men across the warehouse.

  “Search the place.” I ordered.

  “Luca …” Simone was shaking even more. The poor bastard got sick at the sight of b
lood. His face was like a ghost.

  “Search.” I told him firmly. It took him a few seconds, but he eventually caught his breath and slowly made his way into the building.

  It took three minutes to get the place cleared. However, that was three minutes wasted as the drugs were taken further and further away by the goddamn Rooskies.

  I glanced at the door, wondering where they could have gone. As I scanned the area, I noticed tire tracks. Instead of making their way out to the main road, it looked like a car had pealed out and took a sharp right. I followed the tracks out of the building, then studied the direction they went in.

  The docks.

  As soon as it clicked in my mind, the sound of a boat’s horn hit my ears. It was close and casting off.

  “Ay!” I yelled at my guys searching the warehouse. One of them was pushing one of the dead men with his shoe curiously. I waved them my way, then started off in a sprint toward the docks. If they didn’t get the idea to follow me, I would need to hire new workers.

  There was no time for me to look back or to think about what to do next. There was only the docks and the water. Of course the Russians would fucking bring a boat to steal my shit. They were always out of their minds and would pull stupid stunts in order to outmaneuver the Italians.

  I rounded the corner and was suddenly in a field of shipping crates. The horn sounded again, ahead and to the left. Pivoting as quickly as I could, I made my way into the maze of shipping containers toward the water. I could hear the sound of the water sloshing against the docks, all I had to do was make my way through the metal boxes.

  When I finally found an opening to the water, I quickly took cover and peaked around the corner. There was one man working on taking the staircase leading up into a large vessel away for cast off. The vessel was named “Natasha.” Russians.

  Like hell I’d let him get away with it.

  After checking to make sure I couldn’t see anyone else, I raised my gun and took aim.

  The silencer did its work, only a small sound escaping from the gun as soon as the horn sounded once more. It hit and the worker fell to the ground, writhing in pain. I couldn’t let him live long enough to call out for help. Before I could move forward, Simone stepped up from behind me, scaring me to the point of wanting to crawl out of my skin. He took aim and fired and the man was still.