Gio: The DelGado Trilogy (An Enemies to Lovers Romance)

by Natalia Lourose

  There were some guys, the old guards, who weren’t going to follow Gian. He was only thirty years old, young in the world of Italians. He wasn’t married, which made the older men distrust him. They thought him to be young and unstable, but they misread him, he’s more cold and calculated.

  Gian adjusts the cufflinks on his suit jacket and leans casually back against the bar.

  “La fata di questa famiglia sono aperti.”

  The affairs of this family are now open.

  The announcement gains the attention of any man who had not already silenced themselves for Gian. And honestly, it also made his intentions very apparent.

  Gian is the boss now.

  “I bet you’re all wondering why I called you here tonight.” the men stand in silence but he has their attention now. “It seems we’re lacking leadership with Massimo’s death, and let’s be honest, he set us up for failure.”

  A few men grunt their agreement. One even whispers bastard. It’s no secret that Massimo was hated, especially in this group. Not one of them batted an eye when he had been killed months before by a New York boss.

  “So I think it’s time for a vote. We need a new leader. Someone who will protect our values. Someone who will make sure we have money in our pockets and steaks on our tables. Someone who will ensure that our families are safe, and that our daughters are cherished.”

  There were men cheering now. They were enticed by his words, his promises.

  “I want to be that man for you. In fact, I am that man tonight. If you stand behind me, I will not let the Irish thugs control our city. I will not take losing our earnings to Boston. I will take care of us.”

  “Any objections?” I called out.

  No one raised a hand. Not a voice chirped to object.

  Gian nodded appreciatively. “Saluti.” he raises his glass.

  “Saluti.” The men responded in unison.

  The games had begun.

  The Alibi was the first business Gian, and I opened together. As soon as we were old enough to earn, we were out on the streets. Once we were initiated, the money was flowing. Dirty money needs to be washed, plus a W2 is a pretty necessary thing to have. So we opened The Alibi.

  The name was a promise between us. Being born in this life there’s always a chance that one of us will get picked up. The Alibi is our unspoken rule that we’ll always be each other's alibi. Also, it was a nice fuck you to the cops when we get to say our alibi is The Alibi.

  The bar is a mix of rustic meets speakeasy. Our sister had a filled day decorating the place. That girl loves to spend other people's money. The exterior walls are red brick and the newer built walls that section the place into rooms are painted a sleek gray. The bar itself is solid wood with a concrete top coated with epoxy giving it a nice smooth finish. The lounge areas house leather couches and high-back chairs with 20s themed artwork. Providence made a lot of money during the Prohibition era, including our grandfather who ran his own speakeasy. This is our nod to him, to our roots.

  No matter how many businesses we opened over the years, this one would always be my favorite.

  “Skip,” Tony’s voice sliced through my thoughts.

  “Tony,” I run a small crew, with only three other men. Tony Cervelli is one of them. He looks nervous, wringing his fingers together. He glances briefly at the other two members of my crew standing behind him. Big Frank DiNonno and Charlie Massero.

  “Spit it out, Tony.”

  “Well, me and the guys, see…” he trailed. “We’re, uh, itching for work, ya know?”

  Yeah.

  I know.

  I’ve been slacking since my mother's death.

  Depression is a bitch. Not that I would tell them that.

  “Shit, yeah. I know.” I tell him, scrubbing a hand down my face. “What about the Pearce job?” The Pearce job is something we’ve been planning for a while now. It’s a little personal to me, but sometimes personal works out well. It makes me more motivated when there’s more than money on the line.

  In la Famiglia my crew is known for having a specialty. We’re good at a lot of things, but we’re really good at stealing things.

  I’m not talking pickpocketing or jacking trucks. Though, we do that too.

  I’m talking about the big money.

  Diamonds.

  I had a mentor, another made man, who caught me stealing at a party once and took me under his wing. They called him the Ghost, he taught me everything he knew before he died. Now, I run my own crew.

  I treat them good and in return, they get shit done which leaves us all with money in our pockets.

  The system works.

  When we do, that is.

  I had money to fall back on, but my men have less. So it’s understandable that they are itching for work while I’m laying in bed.

  “Ran into a problem,” Tony whispers, setting his hands down on the bar top. The men behind him come in closer, so they can all hear. “There is one entrance on the roof, and we’re not getting through it.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “It’s small. We’re too big. I mapped it out with Charlie seeing as how he’s the smallest but he’s not gonna fit. Plus, it’s a drop. And the doors are all going to be heavily armed, and Charlie’s good but this alarm system they have is really good.”

  “Okay,” I sigh. “So we need to figure out a new plan then?”

  The men nod in agreement.

  I take another chug of whiskey. I need to get my shit together, for my family and for my crew.

  But right now?

  Fuck it.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  I can tell from the splitting headache radiating through my frontal lobe that I drank too much.

  I slowly open my eyes to my surroundings. Instead of the nice king-sized bed and memory foam mattress I’m used to I’m on the couch in my office at The Alibi.

  “Fuck.” I moan, rubbing a hand across my jaw.

  Yeah.

  Maybe my drinking is a bit out of control.

  Not that I was about to admit that to anyone.

  “You’re fucking robbing us?”

  That gets my attention.

  I swing my legs off the couch to stand, pausing for a moment to let the dizziness from my hangover pass. Grabbing my Glock from the top drawer of my desk I check to see if it’s loaded and head for the door.

  The voice currently swearing up a storm belongs to Frank. He has keys to the place as he typically comes early in the morning to open it up for the staff. He’s also my enforcer.

  I tuck the gun into the waistband of my jeans and creep out of my office. My office here is on the second floor. From the railing of the stairs, I have a good view of the bar floor. I can see two young figures, probably late teens - early twenties, with black ski masks over their heads holding Frank at gunpoint. I’d laugh at the lunacy of these two if I wasn’t so damn angry.

  “Give us all the money.” The one on the right side shouts. He’s a little heavier, or the one on the left is far too skinny. He shakes a pillow case at Frank.

  Big Frank isn’t called big because he’s little, he’s genuinely a big guy. Standing at 6’ and 300 pounds, he isn’t someone you want to mess with, but the boys have him outnumbered.

  At least they think they do.

  I don’t really want blood in my club, but I’m also not about to give these boys any fucking money.

  I aim my gun at the one on the right who is still shaking the pillow case. Low enough that it won’t kill him, but it’s gonna really fucking hurt. Then, thinking better of it, I decide to shoot the lamp less than a foot away.

  I’d rather shoot these two somewhere where I’ll have less of a cleanup effort.

  “Fuck!” the kid shouts.

  The other one is distracted long enough for Frank to knock the gun out of his hand and wrestle him to the ground. I take the stairs two at a time to get to the other one.

  “Who’s here?” I ask Frank.

&nb
sp; “Just Justine.”

  Justine is the bar manager. She’s a smart girl who makes extra to keep her mouth shut.

  “Justine,” I called out.

  I see her peak out from above the bar. “Oh, thank god.” she murmurs.

  “Get some tape and then get out of here, hmm? I’ll make sure you’re compensated for your time.” I tell her.

  She asks no questions as she fetches a roll of duct tape from the back, grabs her purse, and gets out without saying a word.

  Part of being successful in this business is surrounding yourself with the right people. People who don’t fuck with you.

  So who the fuck do these two think they are?

  We hastily secure both kids’ hands behind their backs, then their ankles to thighs effectively keeping them grounded in a kneeling position.

  I shoot a quick text over to the other two guys to get their asses here.

  I rip the masks off their faces, tossing them to the side. The bigger one is whimpering and begging already, a mixture of snot and tears running down his red cheeks. Glass from the lamp flung over and lodged itself into his calf. Nothing serious, but obviously the cut had turned him into a fucking child.

  “Shh,” I shush, bending down to face him. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I-I’m s-s-sorry.” he mumbles through snot and tears.

  “No,” I corrected. “I asked who you are?”

  “No one.” the other guy answers. “This was just a stupid prank.”

  “Then why is no one laughing?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.

  “G-get A-Annie, p-please.” the first one stutters.

  This catches my attention. “Who’s Annie?”

  “No!” the other boy shouts, looking to the first in disbelief.

  “Outside.” the first one whimpers. “She’s a nurse.”

  “Dumbass.” the other looks pissed. “Leave her alone.” He pleads. “She’s not involved in this.”

  Well, this is a fun turn of events.

  Who the fuck is Annie and why should I leave her alone?

  My head is running wild as I sit outside the bar.

  My mind is playing tricks on me.

  How many places have my fingerprints on them? Can’t they dust these and know they belong to me?

  My head is racing with a million different ways this could end badly.

  Shoot out.

  Cops.

  Death. Mostly death. All roads lead to death.

  It’s been too long. They told me they would be in and out ten minutes ago. My stomach is gurgling, making noises of distress. I gingerly rest my hand on it. I think I’m going to vomit in here if they don’t come out soon.

  My beat-up Toyota Camry is the only thing providing me protection. I dressed the part for today’s adventure in all black from my boots to my black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over my head and I popped a pair of dark-framed sunglasses over my eyes. Every little bit of coverage counts, right? Except none of this matters when I’m driving my own damn car. Maybe I should report it stolen once all this is over.

  Once the Irish mob is paid off and Johnny is safe, this will all be worth it.

  I think I truly believe that, but my stomach feels differently.

  Knock.

  Knock

  Knock

  I jumped at the sound; I was too lost in my thoughts to see the man approach my car. I look up at him through the driver’s side window. He’s hovering over me and devastatingly handsome. He has a sharp jawline covering a day or two’s worth of stubble. His lips are curved upwards with a menacing smirk, and his dark brown eyes are piercing.

  I swear he’s looking deep into my soul.

  He moves his fingers in a circular motion indicating for me to roll down the window. Without thinking, I comply. Grabbing the crank below the window and winding it down, revealing myself to the handsome stranger.

  “You Annie?” he asks.

  Shit.

  I think every damn fear I’ve imagined is about to come true at the hands of the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. My stomach threatens to revolt at this thought. I swallow the lump forming in my throat and nod my affirmative reply to him.

  He smiles, he likes that answer. “You have a gun?” he asks now, his eyes assessing the state of my car. It’s clean, except for the Gatorade bottles Johnny and Rob tossed in the back seat. My car is normally void of trash.

  I shake my head no to answer his question. I hate guns; they freak me out, and even if I didn’t I had no money to buy one now.

  “Good.” he flashes a perfect set of pearly white teeth when he smiles at me. “Now, I’m going to need you to listen very carefully, okay?” he doesn’t wait for me to respond before he continues. “You’re going to get out of this car and walk nice and slow into my club here. Try to run or do anything funny, your two friends inside my place are going to get bullets in the head, ya hear me?”

  My heart sinks at his threat. Yep, this is my worst nightmare come true.

  I nod again, I’m afraid if I try to speak my voice will betray me.

  “I need a verbal response, Annie.”

  I steel my spine and take a deep inhale. You can do this. “I understand.”

  “Good. Now take off the sunglasses and get out of the car.”

  I pull the layer of protection from my face, tossing it into the passenger seat. You can do this. I keep whispering words of affirmation to myself, that will get me through this shit show. I unlock the car door and slowly step out, revealing my full self to this man.

  He nods at me approvingly, which only serves to make me feel like an obedient child. An obedient child who’s protecting her brother, that’s my life story.

  I walk slowly with my hands at my side to his club door. I don’t know this man, but I can tell he’s not like me. He’s bigger, scarier, and I’m not about to give him any reason to hurt me or my family.

  He opens the door for me. “What a gentleman,” I mutter, then mentally kick myself.

  Luckily, he chuckles when he hears my comment. He likes my sass.

  “Want me to check her, skip?” A large man, wearing black dress slacks and a wrinkled linen shirt, asks once we’re inside and my handsome captor has locked the door.

  “I got it.” He has an easygoing look about him for someone who now has three captives in his bar. “I’m going to frisk you now, sweetheart, don’t get too hot and bothered.” He smirks as he comes closer to me.

  I heave a sigh and raise my arms for him. “That full of yourself, huh?” Who am I? Why am I sassing this man who could easily overpower me?

  He laughs, a smirk playing on his lips. This confirms for me that he likes the attitude, he wants to play this game. That I can do.

  He places his large hands on my shoulders first before moving them down my body. His movements are slow and steady and his touch feels electric on me. He sweeps the hood off my head, revealing my full face for him. My ashy blonde waves are now loose and free, falling slightly past my shoulders.

  “That’s better,” he whispers at the sight of my exposed face and hair.

  He continues his exploration, running his hands down my sides to my hips slower that necessary. He reaches my ass, his hands lingering there ever so gently. For some reason I want him to touch me hard, I want to feel the bite of his hands on my skin.

  Maybe I’m sex-deprived, because what kind of crazy idiot would want this man to touch them like that in this situation?

  He pats his hands down my legs, bending so his face is level with my lady parts. I hiss a breath feeling him there, so close to me.

  “All good.” he rises, giving me another smirk as if he knows what my inner dialogue is saying right now.

  Finally, free from his touch I take in the surrounding scene.

  We’re in the bar, The Alibi, that Johnny and Rob planned to steal from. They claimed that this would be a simple job. It was late morning, no one should have been here but the manager. Their plan was to walk in and tell her to fill
their bags with all the money the place had. She should be trained to just hand over the money, most employees at places like this were. Their lives are worth more than whatever cash the place has, plus these places are insured for things like this. It should have been easy, they made it sound so easy.

  Apparently not.

  Johnny and Rob both sat on the floor bound with their hands behind their backs and their ankles and thighs together in a kneeling position. Johnny looked cold and fearless. Rob on the other hand was crying. Of the three of them, he had always been the first to break. There was blood dripping from Rob’s calf, oozing out slowly while he whimpered.

  “He’s hurt!” I eye my captor accusingly.

  “He’s going to be fine.” he shot back, his playful grin is gone now. He looks at me annoyed. “What did you think was going to happen when you tried to rob me, hmm?”

  “I need a first aid kit.” He doesn’t move to help me, instead he just continues to stare at me annoyed. “Please,” I try again. “Please, just let me help him.”

  He watches me for a moment before finally caving. “Okay, sweetheart. I’m going to give you a kit, you can patch up your friend here and then you’re going to sit down over there,” he gestured to the bar. “And have a chat with me.”

  “Okay,” I agreed quickly. “Just let me help him.”

  He nodded to the other man. At his signal the man went and grabbed a first aid kit from behind the bar and brought it over to me.

  It was a small kit, but it had enough in it for me to patch Rob up. I kneeled beside him, assessing the wound. He flinches when I touch his leg.

  “Can you untie him?” I ask, knowing his answer before he even says it.

  “No.” he replies sharply. The games are over, his smile is gone. Now he stands watching me with crossed arms. He’s scarier like this, he looks mean.

  “I’m sorry, Annie.” my cousin sobs. He had always been the most sensitive of the three of us. He came up with the wild ideas that got us into trouble and then he was the first to cry.

  I steal a quick glance at Johnny. His lips are pressed tightly together. He plays his part well, the one who went along with the bad idea and then acts as if he is above us, smarter than us.