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

by Avery Hawkes

  The shot was loud, but luckily the horn blared and covered the sound. I touched his shoulder lightly in thanks before motioning my men forward.

  The boat was starting to move, so I sprinted as fast as I could toward the stairs that lead up to the boat. Luckily, it hadn’t moved that far away from the shore yet, but there wasn’t a lot of time left before we wouldn’t be able to get on the boat at all.

  We all worked our way up the stairs. Without pausing to think about the consequences, we jumped onto the moving boat. I quickly lost my footing and rolled onto the ground, hoping and praying that no one noticed the men flying onto their ship.

  I was wrong.

  I heard yelling in the distance as the last man from our group jumped aboard the ship. The yelling was soon followed by gunshots. The bullets ricocheted off of the metal shipping containers to our right.

  We all took cover until the gunshots ceased. I crept to one side, keeping an eye out for our product. All I could see were huge containers, no wooden crates. That didn’t mean they weren’t hidden among the containers on the ship.

  Simone was near me and we shared a glance. His eyes clearly said, Are you CRAZY?!

  I tried to reply with confidence, but I was sure my body language said, Maybe?

  Fuck it, I kept moving forward with Simone at my back. I heard more gunshots further up ahead, and I wondered if our guys were starting to get involved in the firefight.

  We would have to kill every single man on the boat, I knew that the moment my feet touched the ship. I had no clue how many men were aboard, but I was ready to take on all of them.

  Damn, those drugs Simone gave me were good.

  I saw a figure pop out in the distance and ducked before he turned our way. It would be better if we took them out quietly. As I was thinking of where to sneak to next, Simone elbowed me in the ribs. Before I could glare at him, he pointed toward one of the many shipping containers. There, at the bottom of a three-high stack, was a container with the Italian flag quickly spray-painted on it. Cheeky bastards.

  We crept forward, keeping on the alert. It seemed like our men were keeping the Russians busy while headed for the containers.

  When we got to the metal box, I stood up straight and looked around. There was no one in the area and most of the shipping containers gave us cover. In any case, it would be best if we worked fast to check that we had the right boat ... As I turned to open the door, I heard a shot in the distance. Half of a second later, a bullet passing me grazed my head.

  I opened the door and the pain followed a second later. We had to rush into the container for cover. My hand rose to check the damage. The bullet had grazed my cheek and blood was starting to roll down my face.

  Simone closed the door part way to give us cover. As I looked into the darkness of the shipping container, trying to make out the boxes that held our drugs, a light flashed on.

  “Holy shit!” I yelled, raising my gun up to whatever was in the container. As I got ready to shoot, I realized that there was a man in a suit standing in front of me. Standing behind him, was Rick, who I had thought had been taken off to the hospital.

  As my eyes adjusted to the bright light, I realized that the suited man standing in front of me was not a stranger at all.

  He was my Father.

  Clap. Clap. Clap.

  The sounds of my father’s applause echoed the enclosed space.

  Simone and I shared a glance, then both lowered our guns. His rifle dropped to the ground, while I tucked my gun away in my waistband.

  “Good job boys,” our father said, a proud smile on his face.

  He was a middle-aged man, the leader of the Italian Mafia in Jersey and one of the most well-respected criminals in the United States, at least in the underworld.

  Questions raced through my mind, faster than I could ask them. Instead of forming coherent sentences, my mouth was slightly parted in shock.

  “You did it!” Rick gave us a big, toothy grin. I glanced down to the front of his shirt, which was covered in blood, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by the wound.

  “Wha-?”

  “Oh, you wondering why we’re here?” Father stepped forward, placing his arms behind him in the authoritative way he usually did. He came up to me and gave me a grin.

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  “I thought—I thought the Russians took our ... our product.”

  “Yes, that was what I told him to tell you,” father motioned to Rick. “It looks like he did a good job with his acting, maybe we’ll lose him to Hollywood soon.”

  “Oh, you,” Rick replied bashfully.

  “Is he not—was he not shot?” It felt like the world was spinning around me.

  “Everything was staged, yes.”

  “But—I killed a man back there.…” Simone’s voice was soft and barely legible. Father raised his hand to hold his chin thoughtfully.

  “Ah yes, Well he wasn’t that good of a worker anyway.”

  My body became tense. “Why waste the lives of our men on a useless trick?”

  “Direct orders from Naples.”

  My eyes widened. Naples was where the men who had helped Father come to power were located. They would often ask things of our family, whether it involved a drug shipment or blackmailing a business in the States. They were above my father in the hierarchy, but relied on him for a lot of their money and business.

  “What did they want?” I asked, still unable to put two and two together. Before my father could answer, the door to the shipping container opened behind me.

  Simone had stepped aside for a skinny man in a pinstripe suit and horn-rimmed glasses. He was about my father’s age and was followed by a slim woman.

  The pinstripe man spoke up, “They wanted to test you.”

  Both he and the girl walked into the shipping container, shook hands with my father, and then turned to stare at me.

  “Luca, my son, this is Signor Armento and his subordinate, Piper Smith.”

  I reached out to the older man first, “Mr. Armento,” I said in greeting, nodding. After a firm handshake, I turned to offer my hand to the young woman.

  Her arms were crossed and she did not budge. She looked at me with a mixture of pride and disdain. She left my hand hanging and raised her eyebrows when I didn’t automatically back down.

  She was attractive as all hell, but not like the women I usually saw at the club. She wore a long black t-shirt that was fitted perfectly to her body and dark skinny jeans. Her makeup was well done and natural, rather than loud and obnoxious. The thing that made her stand out the most was her hair, which was in a short bob. It made her look spunky, like a firecracker. So did her lack of willingness to shake my hand. Damn, did I want her body right then and there. However, I couldn’t let myself be distracted from business when presented with a pretty woman. However, I couldn’t be one-upped by her unwillingness to shake my hand.

  I stood my ground, waiting in the empty metal box for some sort of greeting from the woman who piqued my interest. Finally, Mr. Armento motioned for her to be nice. She looked annoyed for a second, but then raised her hand up, taking it with a shake that was like a vice-grip.

  Why the power play over such a small act of politeness? I didn’t know. The reason she did what she did evaded me. What I wanted to know about her was what she looked like under her clothes.

  “What is this about a test?” I asked.

  With the formalities out of the way, Mr. Armento cleared his throat.

  “The leaders in Naples are very happy with where your father has taken the American branch of the Mafia in the past few years.” He nodded toward my father, who was trying to look humble. I knew he ate it up. The man in the horn-rimmed glasses kept talking in his Italian accent.

  “It used to be thought that the days of the Italian Mafia were over, that we couldn’t evolve with the times. Your Father has helped us in leaps and bounds.”

  “Yes, yes. What about the test?” My patience was running thin
.

  “Since they realized there were many sons learning about the family business underneath his wing, they wanted to set all of you up to become leaders ... starting with you.”

  “Everything was set up,” our father cut in. “They wanted to test you to see how you reacted in the case of an emergency.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “How did I do?”

  “I’m happy to say you passed,” Mr. Armento said. “With a B-, so there is room for growth.”

  “B-?” It had been a few years since I had been to school, but never had I received a B-. Simone and I prided ourselves on our perfect scores. Both of us attended Ivy League schools and graduated at the top of our class.

  “You missed a sniper,” he said, pointing at my cheek.

  “Your sniper missed,” I retorted, covering the scratch on the side of my face with a hand. It was already red and puffy around the cut.

  “No I didn’t” the young woman said. She gave me a smug grin, like she had schooled me in a race.

  “Piper here is an excellent markswoman. One of the few to graduate the Air Force Sniper Academy.” Mr. Armento said.

  “If I wanted you dead, you would be dead.” she said.

  I glared at her, not knowing what else to say. If this had been real, I probably would have died from a sniper shot, but a B- was better than failing at living.

  “What does all this mean?” I asked.

  Armento smiled and opened his arms, raising them up a few inches. “The bosses would love to give you a promotion and a raise.”

  “A promotion AND a raise?” I asked.

  “Just Luca?”

  All eyes moved over to Simone, who was standing off to the side.

  “Both of you,” Father said. “Simone, you'll be taking over the entire drug business for the east coast.”

  “What will I be doing?” I said, cutting in.

  “You’ll have to ask the bosses when you see them next week.” Armento replied.

  “Next week?” I asked.

  The man in front of me adjusted his jacket and paused to gather his thoughts.

  “As a leader of the Mafia, we need our men to have a certain ... image. Your first assignment is to fit said image and the second assignment is to fly to Italy for an introduction.”

  He looked a bit uncomfortable, but paused to let his words sink in. The man fiddled with his jacket again, his hands not wanting to rest. There was something he was keeping from me.

  “What sort of image do they want me to have?” I asked.

  He laughed.

  “The position requires you to have a partner, specifically a wife.”

  My eyes widened.

  “Sadly, I don’t have one of those lying around. It might be a bit of a stretch to find a wife in a week.”

  “Not if they’ve already picked one for you.” He stepped back and motioned toward the young woman standing next to him. It took both Piper and me a few seconds to realize what he was saying. When we did, we caught each other’s eye. I’m sure I looked just as shocked as she was, but probably less angry.

  “What?” she snapped, but Mr. Armento shook his head.

  “Luca Rossi, Piper Smith, your assignment is to be married and report to Florence for your honeymoon.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Piper

  Tears fell from my face in steady streams as my fiancé’s plump aunt was fixing my hair. I stared at myself in the mirror, wishing that the last week had all been a horrible nightmare.

  It was not.

  Apparently, the job I had been hired for was more than just shooting at the son of a Mafia boss. If I had known I was agreeing to marriage to a petulant drug dealer and asshole, I would have high-tailed it out of New York City.

  “Oh I know, dear, a virgin’s wedding day is always so emotional.” The old woman told me in her sing-song voice. “You are a virgin, right?”

  “How is that any of your business?” I sputtered as she started putting a curling iron to my long hair.

  “It’s God’s business, my dear. Remember, you are getting married in GOD’s house, not your own.”

  “I don’t care whose house it is, I’m not answering rude questions from women I don’t know.”

  I sighed. It just so happened that Luca’s family was staunchly Roman Catholic. They had paid a priest off in order for us get us married on such short notice. Enough that he ignored my pleading and begging for us to not go through with it. Figures the priest was dirty. I was not Catholic, nor did I believe in institutional religion, but I was having a Catholic wedding anyway. The tears started to flow again.

  From that point forward, getting my hair right was a painful process. The woman tugged when she didn’t have to and accidentally burned my skin a few too many time for it to be deemed a mistake.

  Finally, my hair was done. It was a mess of pins, but it was something.

  “Look at you,” a voice sounded from the entrance to the room. I glanced in the mirror to see Tony Armento, smiling at me.

  “Fuck you,” I said, crossing my arms. This made Luca’s Aunt stare at me with wide eyes, like I had killed a kitten with a naughty word.

  “Will you give us a moment?” Armento asked the overweight woman. She made a beeline for the door, forgetting most of her supplies. I didn’t turn in my chair to face him, but watched the middle-aged man in the mirror as he stepped forward.

  I wanted to throttle him.

  “You look gorgeous.” he said, his hand brushing one of my curls.

  “You look like a lying dick,” I replied.

  “Piper, why would you say that?”

  “Why would I say that?” I glared daggers at him, but he didn’t seem to mind. Tony Armento always kept his cool, which infuriated me even more. “You tell me I have a job, that it’s a great opportunity to MAKE something of myself, to move up in the world. I thought I was being being hired as a sniper, not to be some no one’s wife.”

  “Are you done?” he asked. I was looking down at the ground, not wanting him to see that my eyes were filling with tears again. I sniffed, trying my best not to burst into tears.

  “Piper, this is a great opportunity for you. I am not here because I needed any ole woman. I’m here because the bosses requested you by name for this mission. And I doubt they picked you for your cooking and child-bearing skills.” He knelt down and grabbed my hand, which I tried to pull away. His grip was like a vice and he wouldn’t let go until I looked at him.

  “I can’t go through with this,” I said, shaking my head. I couldn’t stop the tears now, even if they made me look weak in front of my boss. He didn’t seem to mind.

  “You have to do this,” he replied. “You made a commitment to this job. The men above me do not look kindly on those who break their commitments.”

  That was a threat, clear and simple. Sadly, I was more than familiar with what happened to those who abandoned a job. The last thing I wanted was ending up at the bottom of the Hudson river.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “I don’t understand why they need me to marry some drug dealer from Jersey.”

  The man gave me a pat on the shoulder.

  “Hopefully they’ll be able to clarify the job when you get to Italy. Until then, I can only guess.”

  “Will I have to be married to this schmuck forever?”

  “I don’t think so. From what I know, they need a married couple for an immediate job. Think of this as your test.”

  “Ha!” I wiped my eyes off on my button-up shirt. “I’d do better tracking down drugs on a ship.”

  “Luca is your business partner, think of him that way. If, by the end of this job, you two can get an annulment, then so be it. But, you need to be wed for the time being.”

  “Fine.” I crossed my arms again and sniffled. While I was still angry, at least there was a light at the end of the tunnel. If I made it to the end of this job, I wouldn’t be stuck with some low-life for the rest of my life. That, was comforting.

  A hand was i
n my face, Armento was offering me help up. “Let’s fix your makeup and get you in your dress.”

  I ignored his hand, standing up myself. Armento’s face looked like he had smelled souring milk.

  “I have no choice then.” I said, passing him to open the dress-sized bag that was hanging on the wardrobe in the room. “It’s time for me to get married.”

  I didn’t have much in the way of family. As I walked down the aisle to the sound of a violin solo, I was able to count the number of people from my side who showed up on one hand. To be fair though, a week was not enough time to give people for a wedding.

  My father had left my mother when I was a little kid. He was Italian and from what I had heard was no longer in the states. My mother was Irish American and a free spirit. While she was poor, she lived on a small piece of land in the Midwest with my step-dad. Two years ago, they cut off contact from me. I didn’t blame them.

  There was my aunt who lived in New York, then my step-sister who I hadn’t seen in more than a decade, then other random family that I never spoke to. Most of them were only there because Luca’s mother paid them off, afraid that a side of the church would be empty.

  The Rossi side was full to the brim with loved-ones. Catholic families ... disgusting. Even though Armento had told me that this wasn’t a real wedding, Luca’s side of the family certainly acted like it was.

  Armento stood in for my father and I held his arm like my life depended on it as I walked down the aisle. The dress that had been picked out for me in the whirlwind before my wedding was heavy, and got in the way of walking. I had to thrust my legs out like I was trying to kick a soccer ball with each step, just to make sure I didn’t end up in a heap on the floor.

  Thankfully, I hadn’t cried since the finishing touches were put on my makeup, even if my eyes were still a little puffy. The women, strangers who walked in and out of my dressing room, had told me I looked like a princess. I thought I looked like a freak.