Boss (Chianti Kisses #2)
Page 14
“Whose idea was it, Hmm? Did he come up with this or did you? You financed it, but who planned it?” I ask the old man.
One again Carmine shifts inches chair, this time to face his employer. “What’s he talking about, Boss? What do you have to do with any of this?”
“Shh!” he commands Carmine. “Dom, I had no idea what he was going to use that money for. I thought it was a construction loan. When I found out what he’d done, that’s when I stepped in to settle everything between you two so this wouldn’t turn out like this,” he gestures to the man bleeding out on the floor.
“You son of a bitch! You knew very well what I was going to use that money for,” EJ cries out from the ground.
That’s all I needed. An admission of guilt. I pull back on the barrel of my handgun and prepare to fire again, stepping closer to EJ. I crouch down, pressing the point into his temple.
He’s sweating profusely, shaking, “Dom, WAIT! You can’t shoot! I have information. I can tell you who killed your father in law.”
I freeze. He has my attention and he knows it.
“Who?” I yell.
He catches his breath, his breathing fast and frenzied. “I want your word. I want your word as a man, on your honor, on the honor of your family that you won’t kill me. Say it now, in front of your men,” he eyes the swarm of soldiers behind me.
Fuck!
I hadn’t counted on anything like this. If I follow my original plan, I’ll shoot him and probably never know the answer to the age old question that has haunted my family, my wife’s family for almost two decades.
“You rat!” Moretti calls to him. “You no good, rotten, spineless little rat!”
“Deal!” I swear to EJ. He turns pale with each passing second. The bullet wound isn’t fatal, but the stress of his situation as well as the loss of blood is making him weak. I don’t have much time before he loses consciousness. “Tell me now, or I’ll shoot you in the head myself.”
EJ swallows hard, gulping. “Moretti. He ordered it without permission from the commission. A deal gone bad.”
“You liar!” the accused proclaims.
“Whoa!” Carmine jumps up from the table and steps back. “You lowlife piece of shit!” he shares his newfound opinion of his boss. “I vow nothing to you. You have no honor!”
Joe moves his gun back and forth between Carmine and Moretti while I hold my own on EJ.
“I told you to hold still! Don’t make me shoot you, Carmine!” I’m clear with my instructions.
EJ finally passes out, a limp, pile of bloodied designer clothes at my feet. A loud crashing draws my attention as Moretti makes a move. He pushed the table over, freeing a hidden handgun from underneath it, and aims at me.
My life flashes before my eyes. My dad, Nonna, V’s dad… I see all of their faces before me. All of the reasons that dying right now wouldn’t be a bad thing. I could see them all again. And then I see V. Beautiful, innocent, selfless V. I made her a promise. I told her I’d come home to her. I raise my gun and prepare to defend myself, but he has an advantage over me. His gun is already aimed and prepared as I raise my shooting hand.
His actions are now in slow motion. I watch the intricate muscles of his hand contract as his fingers contract, squeezing the half-moon shaped trigger. I hear the steel mechanisms engage. I see the bullet free itself from the round barreled chamber.
I’m pushed down, a heavy weight bearing down on my chest. I crash down, clenching my eyes tight before hitting the ground. I hear a deafening round of gunshots from above as I lay pinned down below.
Carmine’s body sprawls out over mine. The bullets cease with the room nothing more than an echoed chamber of bullet riddled walls.
“Boss!” Joe and his men move to slide Carmine. He doesn’t help. He doesn’t move. Once I can shimmy from underneath him, I do, covered in blood. I pull my shirt open assessing the damage.
Nothing. I’m whole, uninjured.
But not Carmine. He’s bleeding, a round circular red stain soaking through his shirt.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“How’s he doing?” I ask Theresa.
Carmine is still sleeping. The doc gave him some pretty heavy duty pain meds. He’s been in and out of consciousness for days. His bandages wrap around the better part of his midsection, bright white and freshly changed.
He’s been nursed day and night, ever since his surgery. The doctors and surgeon that had patched him up stop by regularly to tend to his wounds and bandages. They’re getting paid quite handsomely to go above and beyond their normal bedside manner routines. These are the types of docs that don’t ask and don’t tell.
Perfect for gunshot wounds in this type of situation.
Hospitals are out of the question, as they are mandated reporters and must contact the authorities for any gun related injury. We don’t need that kind of heat right now. Joe and his men were able to dispose of Moretti’s body before torching the pizza place and all evidence inside.
EJ was handed over to a similar type of doctor, with much less of an injury than Carmine. He’s already been stitched up and sent on his way with a one way ticket to Mexico and a promise of an execution if he steps so much as one foot back on U.S. soil.
He graciously took my offer and knows very well how serious the repercussions will be if decided to renege on his end of our deal. The commission has cleared the deal I made with him, after the fact. He’s open game for any man with a connection to any of the families if he pops up in the future.
All loose ends have been tied up. All except Carmine.
In the few sporadic moments of consciousness he has in between rounds of meds, he’s been able to answer some basic questions for me.
He claims he had no knowledge of Moretti’s involvement with EJ other than trying to act as mediator. I want to believe him. The man threw his life down for me, covering my body with his own to shield it. That alone affords him a benefit of doubt.
He swears he didn’t know about Moretti’s involvement in V’s father’s death. That I do believe, as it was before Carmine’s time as a soldier and was kept as a very tightly guarded secret.
But I still have questions. I called him over and over again with no answer. I also told him to come back directly back to the house. These unanswered questions linger on my mind as I watch over the patient.
“He’s in and out of it.” Theresa updates me. “Still no fever. The doctors say he should be turning a corner any moment now.”
I squeeze her shoulder. She hasn’t slept much at all these past few days. Other than Nonna’s funeral service yesterday she hasn’t left this room, hasn’t left Carmine. I have a guard posted outside the door just in case.
He’ll be answering all these questions for me in depth when he wakes up, and then I’ll make my decision on what to do with him.
Until then, Theresa can play nursemaid to her little boy toy. I’ve got too many other things to take care of right now. The last few days have rattled my world. Too much has happened to just move past it and pretend that it doesn’t change everything.
I leave Theresa to her patient, and make my way to my nearby bedroom. V is resting on the chaise lounge under the windows, the natural light pouring in covers her in a glowing halo of warmth. Dozens of pictures and albums are sprawled out around her.
“Still looking through those?” I ask her, walking behind her and kissing the crown of her head.
Her fingers move to turn the page. A brightly colored photo appears between the plastic page protectors. It’s V’s second birthday. A candle toped chocolate birthday cake is set out before her high chair as her mom and dad flank her, dressed in her bib and party hat. She’s smiling broadly, the picture catching her mid-laugh.
Ever since the shooting, since I told her family about Moretti, and the retribution that was delivered, she’s been studying these photo albums intensely.
“I just keep finding something new every time I look through them. Like here-” she points to the phot
o at hand. “Look at his smile. It’s a little crooked. Off to the right side. I didn’t remember that. But, I think I smile like that sometimes.” she’s amazed at the similarity. “I never thought we’d find out what really happened to him. I never thought I would care if we did, that it wouldn’t matter anyway. But…” she breathes deep.
I kiss her head again, happy to see her embracing the idea of her dad again. It’s been awhile, ever since she found out about her dad’s criminal past. I’m glad that she’s accepting all sides of her dad. That she can still love him for who he was.
I’m thankful that she’s able to do this. It gives me hope that she’ll be able to forgive the things I’ve done. To forgive the things I’ll have to do in the future. There’s no going back from the line I’ve crossed. I’ve fought having to come to terms with this part of my legacy, my life.
But, now it’s done.
I can only try to live my life with honor, with fairness. Hopefully I can take the best of both worlds, of both lives I’ve lived, to help me navigate through this. Knowing that my wife is here to love me accept me no matter what is all I need to be the best man I can be. The best husband, the best son, brother, father… the best Boss I can be.
EPILOGUE
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Boss, the car’s ready.” Joe informs me. He waves to V before closing the door and leaving us to ourselves.
“I can’t get used to people calling you that all the time,” V teases me. She makes an overly enthusiastic facial expression to accompany her dig at me.
“That’s funny. ‘Cause I kind of like it when you call me boss. Especially in bed.” I chide her.
She blushes, tossing the magazine she was reading on to the bedside table. “I think we should think of something else to call you, instead of Boss.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask. “Any suggestions?”
This I got to hear. I have some ideas of my own. There’s ‘lover,’ ‘God,’ ‘sexy beast.’ I’m game for all of them.
V walks over to me, slipping her hands around my neck, reaching up to tickle my ear with her breathy words,
“How ‘bout Daddy?”
I pull back to look at her. I’m speechless.
“As in… Daddy, Daddy?” I’m too cautious to let myself get my hopes up. We’ve been trying for months now.
She smiles, kissing my lips sweetly. She takes my hand and guides it to rest on her stomach. “As in Daddy, Daddy.”
I’ve been called many things in my life. Many titles and many terms. Some I waited for, earned, or was hesitant to embrace.
But this one is the most important one. The one that scares me the most. The one I’m most afraid to fail at. But I know with V by my side, we can do anything.
COMING LATE SUMMER 2015
BOOK 3 IN THE CHIANTI KISSES SERIES
BETRAYAL
Now that Dom has taken his rightful place as the head of the DiBenedetto crime family, he needs to decide who can be trusted, and who will help him bring retribution to those who sanctioned the murder of his father-in-law, V’s father, years earlier.
Theresa and Carmine walk a thin line between love and hate… but which will overcome?
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer
Otherwise… you can be BETRAYED.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tara is a thirty-something newbie author from Long Island, New York. She's a voracious reader, a passionate writer and and obsessive junk T.V. aficionado. When she's not doing one of those three things she is attempting to garden, hanging with her hubby or partaking in some retail therapy. She enjoys connecting with her readers and is having a blast entering into this new world of publishing.
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