Double Edged Hearts : A Mafia Romance (Gangsters and Dolls Book 4)

by Khardine Gray

  “I was. There’s a doll by the bar with the body of a goddess.”

  He laughs but doesn’t look. It probably doesn’t occur to him to look either because he’s so loved up with his wife, Cora. He’s been married for over a year, and Cora is nigh on giving birth to their son. He’s not as excited to be in Sicily as I am, but our presence here is necessary.

  I’m classing it as a trial period for me and my first task is to sort out the shit that might be brewing under our noses. It’s the kind of shit that could destroy us if it hits the fan. That’s why he’s here too, as well as to give the okay on whether I can handle the business or not.

  When all’s said and done, he’ll be going back to Chicago, and I’ll stay in Sicily. That’s if I make the mark. If I don’t it’s game over and I’ll be a grunt for life.

  “You ready? The prick is here,” he says, pulling in a ragged breath.

  I raise a brow. “I’m ready.”

  This is going to be interesting, and I already know it’s going to test me because I can’t stand Mario, that prick, any more than he can stand me. Our meetings in the past have been edgy to say the least. He’s one of those fuckers who think they should be handed shit on a plate just because they’ve been doing a job for a long time. I have news for his ass tonight.

  Alex and I head down to the ground floor and out back to where the main offices are situated. Mario is already waiting inside the office that I’ll be using. He’s sitting on the leather chair in front of the desk, one leg crossed over the other and a glass of scotch in his hand. Ice clinks against crystal as he straightens up and gives us a smile. Neither of us is smiling, however. It’s clear this fool has definitely gotten far too comfortable because he doesn’t take heed of the seriousness in our demeanor.

  He’s been taking care of business for the last nine months since Pablo retired with a bad heart. Pablo has been running the show for the last forty years. Right from the old days when alliances were formed. If he’d had sons it would be them who would take over management and not me.

  If Mario wasn’t the sloppy prick we’ve discovered him to be, he’d be the obvious choice out of respect for his years of service, regardless of the links myself and my family have to the alliance and the business. But he’s royally fucked himself over by being an asshole.

  The handful of seconds I’ve been in here highlights irritating facts about his personality that always rub me the wrong way. Mario is sloppy as fuck with that lackadaisical, far too laid back attitude I can’t stand. There’s a time to play and a time to work. When you do your work, you can play hard and have the best of both worlds. This asshole looks like he’s been playing too much and enjoying the spoils of living it large. The fool most likely thinks we’re just here for the usual checks and doesn’t have the brains to suspect that trouble must be on the horizon for us to come back to Sicily so soon.

  Alex takes his seat behind the desk and leans forward onto the wooden surface while I sit in the chair across from them. I’m just supposed to observe this first part.

  “Good to see you guys so soon. Chicago is always welcome in the motherland,” Mario chimes and sips from his drink. He has a very distinct overbite that looks more pronounced when he’s brown-nosing or talking shit. “I trust you’ve seen that things are going good here even in Pablo’s absence. The man trained me well.”

  “I don’t doubt your training one bit,” Alex says and cracks his knuckles the way Claudius does. Those guys hang around each other so much they all have the same mannerisms. The result is the scary, badass effect that doesn’t stand for shit.

  I’m a little different. I’m cool and calm. People tend to underestimate and mistake that for a sign of weakness, then they get the shock of their lives when I switch up on them.

  “Good, good. Hope everything’s okay. It’s not like you guys to summon me for a meeting at this hour. I’m hoping to bang the new waitress tonight, so if we could wrap this up quick, it would be much appreciated,” he cajoles.

  Motherfucker. Alex and I exchange glances. The fucker is so comfortable he’s lost his sense of respect, and the rawness of his nose suggests he’s sniffed a little something something too.

  Alex straightens up and smiles. It’s the first tell that shit’s gonna go down tonight. Mario smiles back like a fool, completely missing the point.

  “I can see fucking must be on your mind, if you can speak to me and my guy like we’re the same,” Alex states. It’s then that Mario tenses and the laid back attitude fades. “Things are not okay, Mario. This meeting is about relieving you of your duties.”

  “What!” The prick gasps and straightens up so quickly his drink slushes and some of the liquid spills onto his white shirt leaving an amber stain.

  “You fucking heard me, so I won’t be repeating myself,” Alex answers glaring at him. “Pablo’s been gone for nine months, and you’ve let things slip into shit. Things look good on the surface, but they aren’t.”

  I like watching. Observing. I like to watch people’s reaction first and try and pick up on body language. The first thing I notice about this guy is he gives nothing away. I don’t know what that means yet. You can never tell what shit unpredictable people will do. So, I have no idea what his reaction is truly telling me when he looks as shocked as expected after an accusation like that.

  He sets his glass on the table and looks serious now. “What’s happening? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.

  “We’re here again because the boss got a tip off from one of our associates that his name and the business came up in some evidence that was enroute to the feds. Evidence that would have linked him to human and drug trafficking.”

  Mario’s olive skin goes pale, and he shakes his head. “Nah, nah, that’s not happening here, my friend.”

  “Looks like it is, and we’re going to check things out. Donny will be in charge with the view to take over in the next few weeks.”

  Mario’s nostrils flare and his eyes blaze. “What the fuck? You kidding me?” he snaps, and glares at me.

  I straighten up, but I don’t say anything yet. I don’t like how this fucker is looking at me, and it looks like I’m going to have to teach him a lesson.

  “I do not joke,” Alex answers. “This is fucking serious. The boss’ name and the business has been removed from the evidence, but that doesn’t fix the problem.”

  “It’s not my fault. I’ve been doing everything exactly the same,” he argues.

  I’m pretty sure he hasn’t. Pablo was the kind of man who would take care of things like it was his own business. Mario is not like that in the least.

  “Mario it’s clear to me that you let things slip with certain clients, and now we have to investigate,” Alex points out and his face hardens. “If you can come in here and talk about fucking the new waitress, then I’m sure as shit that you don’t have your head screwed on.”

  “Come on, man, that’s not something to take and judge me. I work hard when it’s time to work. Now you are taking my job away. I’ve been Pablo’s assistant for the last ten years,” he contends. “I’ve taken care of all the business across Italy and Sicily alongside Pablo, and doing it all on my own for the last nine months.”

  Right as he may be, getting caught up in shit like human and drug trafficking are the kinds of mistakes that can’t be allowed to go unnoticed. They are big things to worry about. The scare gave us the heads-up that we’ll need to look into everything and find the loose links. Something definitely happened along the way and that something is Mario’s fault. We can’t give second chances to people who fuck up when they’re supposed to be in charge of a big operation.

  Claudius owns a number of hotels and businesses in Sicily and the mainland of Italy. Some he inherited from the old empire, others he started with his own hands. We run a tight ship that allows us to keep business in general clean, and other things as dirty as they need to be. It keeps the feds off our backs, and keeps business going. His lack of attention
could have meant disaster to all of us.

  “Yet this shit has presented itself in the few months you’ve been in charge,” Alex says.

  “That’s not fair,” he counters.

  “If you did good, we wouldn’t need to come back here,” I say, speaking for the first time, knowing I’m going to piss him off. I do. Mario glares at me like he’s ready to kill me. Let him try.

  “Fuck you,” he throws back, and the corners of my lips turn up into a smile. Looks like it’s time for the lesson I was contemplating.

  “You gonna put him in charge of me?” Mario asks Alex. “What the fuck does he know? Don’t know shit, doesn’t—” He doesn’t get the chance to finish. I don’t give it to him. I get up so fast he barely sees me coming.

  I grab his head and shove it hard down on the desk. The side of his left brow splits and blood runs down his face. He screams out in pain and puts his hands up for me to stop.

  Taking him by his hair, I hold on tight, and lift his head up so he can look me in the eye.

  “Fuck me? Fuck you, dog.” I snarl, and his eyes go wide. He’s never seen me like this before, and I’m certain he would never guess I was anything like this. “You fucking useless piece of shit.”

  “Man, let go of me,” he whimpers.

  “Not until we have a few things clear. I know enough. More than you, and what I say from now on goes. Like it or not, this is your fault, and if you didn’t have your ten years of service under your belt, you’d be shark food right about now. So, this is how it’s going to be. Got it?”

  He nods vigorously, and I let him go.

  “If you want to keep your job, you better learn some manners,” I say pointing

  my finger in his face. “I’ll be checking things out here across the hotels and the clubs. I’ll let you know what I need you to do.”

  “Okay, fine. I got it.”

  “Good, now get the fuck out.” I only dismiss him because I know Alex is done with his ass. Mario staggers out, holding his hand to his head as blood runs down it.

  When the door swings shut, I turn back to Alex, who is looking at me with approval and nodding.

  “Very good, my friend. Perfectly executed.”

  “That guy is a motherfucking prick,” I scuff.

  “Yes, I can see you’re going to be just fine though.”

  I chuckle. “I’ll hand him his ass if he gets out of line. You can trust me with this.”

  “I know I can. Gibbs is looking into everything else.” Alex stands and smirks.

  “I’m sure he’ll find the shit we need.”

  I have no doubt that Gibbs will find something soon. He’s been our PI for years, and there isn’t a damn thing that man can’t find to give you a good lead.

  “It’s that part that worries me. A lot of these clients have been clients for many years. One of them is screwing with us.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” I promise him, and we bump fists.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Alex promises.

  “Cool. I’ll call first if Gibbs turns up anything.”

  Alex leaves, and my thoughts return to the beautiful goddess back at the bar.

  I’m not too pissed, and since business is over for tonight it’s time for fun.

  I hope she’s still here.

  Chapter 2

  Willow

  Shivers of arousal still race over my skin.

  I’m so crazy stupid. Mr. Gorgeous was only looking. That’s all.

  I’d gazed up to the balcony ahead of me and there he was, standing tall, dark, and deliciously handsome.

  One look hooked me, one smile made my body come alive with heat …then he left. I figured a man so gorgeous couldn’t have been here by himself and if he was, maybe he’d seen someone better than me to catch his eye.

  Maybe my depressing essence fended him off.

  I shouldn’t entertain anything with anybody and I definitely didn’t come out tonight to hook up with a stranger, sexy though he may have been.

  Getting laid is not the answer to my problems, and it doesn’t seem like this drink is either. I can usually drink fine. I just can’t drink, or eat for that matter, when I’ve reached a certain level of rage.

  Today was the real day from hell. One that highlighted that I really have lost everything. I lost the last thing I had left in this world—my business, my gallery.

  It’s my own fault. I trust too much, far too easily and I’ve suffered severely from my mistakes.

  I take a sip of water instead of the vodka on the rocks I just ordered. The little sip I had is still burning the back of my throat. I don’t know how Dad drinks this stuff on the regular. Although I guess that’s why he classes himself as a man’s man, and it might also explain why he’s not as uptight as Mom.

  Fuck… what the fuck am I going to do now?

  I’m in Sicily. I came here to escape life for a little while. That came after a massive argument with my darling ex-fiancée, William Pearson, over money and the last of the investments we shared while we were together. He was so vile to me and the things he called me were so awful it left me in tears even as we argued.

  I thought a few weeks in Sicily with Aunt Lurlene would stop me from going over the edge and losing my mind. I’m a week into my stay, and now I’ve been informed that there’s nothing to go back to LA for.

  William was serious when he said he would take everything. He took it all.

  He couldn’t leave me with the one thing he doesn’t even need. When he bought the art gallery and told me it was a present for being so passionate about my career, I should have made sure I got the title deeds.

  I just didn’t think. At the time it never occurred to me to ask for such a thing from a man I’d been in a relationship with for three years. Two years later, and look at me.

  No home because he took that too, and no business, so no source of income. Everything was in his name. It’s more salt to add to the wounds I got after the way he left me at the altar just before we said our vows.

  That was how this year kicked off. William left me at the altar, heartbroken and a mess. Completely unable to understand why he chose to tell me he didn’t love me anymore in front of our five hundred guests.

  What followed that was him taking everything we owned. This morning wrapped it up, and he couldn’t even give me the news himself. He got his secretary to do it. Porsha.

  Porsha, who he’s been shacked up with since we broke up. It was Dad who told me that part. I don’t think I was supposed to know.

  Porsha delivered the bad news of the loss of my gallery bright and early this morning and asked if I could arrange to have my stuff gone as soon as humanly possible because it was hard for a heavily pregnant woman to be running around in the heat.

  Pregnant. As if the situation wasn’t bad enough, when I asked how far along she was, she gladly informed me she was nearly nine months pregnant and ready to give birth any day.

  Since William and I only broke up eight months ago, that gave me my answer as to where he spent all those late nights and confirmed every suspicion I ever had about whether or not he would cheat on me.

  Bastard.

  I’ve been sitting by the bar surrounded by people having the time of their lives. I’ve been here for just over half an hour and I can’t quite decide which parts of the shit I should be more angry with. That bastard did so much to me, and now I’m broke. I have a little under seven thousand dollars left in my account and a one bedroom apartment I sublet after the wedding fiasco. At twenty-eight years old, I really thought I had my life figured out. But I don’t have shit. I’m no better off than I was after I left college, and even then, at least I had a job.

  Fuck this day, and fuck William. I hope his fucking dick falls off.

  I pick up the vodka, get ready to down it, but I only manage a sip as it starts to burn my lips.

  Shit, I can’t even get drunk properly. I should have just gotten a few cocktails instead of going in for the kill with the hard li
quor.

  I try to signal the bartender who served me, but he’s too busy, and the other two guys are making drinks. I’ll have to get up and try to catch their attention.

  I stand with the intention of doing just that, but when I step back, I find myself bumping into a hard wall. A hard wall with arms that steady me as I stumble.

  Turning my head, I look up and find myself gazing into the most striking pair of hazel eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, and Mr. Gorgeous from the balcony looks even more perfect up close than he did when he was far away.

  His dark brown hair is longish on top and unruly in a sexy way so when he tilts his head to the side a lock falls over his eye making him look more alluring. His olive skin is perfectly tanned and has a sun kissed glow to it that commands attention.

  And those eyes are just…wow.

  It seems fitting that his eyes would be as striking as his face. I did wonder what color they were when I first saw him. And the smile that lifts the corners of his sensual mouth is even sexier, doing things to my insides that I shouldn’t want in my frustrated state of mind.

  Like many other Italian men I’ve seen in my stay here, he has that beauty in his features and that sexy edge Aunt Lurlene spoke of in her justification for her one way ticket to Sicily.

  “Non te ne vai, bella signora,” Mr. Gorgeous says snapping me out of my daze, and I swear to God I drool when I hear his accent.

  I stare and have to swallow hard as my mouth waters, then I remember my manners, also that I don’t speak Italian, so I don’t know what the hell he just said to me.

  “I’m… sorry. I don’t speak Italian.” I don’t even know how to say that like the average person would to get around the island. The plan was for me to stay close to the house, and if I was going to venture out, I’d at least take a phrasebook or have my phone on the language app.

  I left the house without my phone on purpose. I didn’t want to talk about shit anymore with anyone.

  My gorgeous stranger smiles wide and looks me over. “I said, I hope you’re not leaving, pretty lady,” he says, and his voice in English is just as sexy even though there’s not even a hint of an accent in his words.