Roman: A Zambrano Family Novel (Miami Mafia Series Book 1)

by Olivia Deici

  Her mouth was agape. Damn, I loved a battle of wits. The adrenaline was pumping.

  “Getting back to the matter at hand.” I paused and looked at Edgar. “Please take Scott's badges, gun, and uniform once he changes.” I heard her suck in a breath. To Scott's credit, he played the part well. This wasn't the only time we had done this ruse, but it was the first time the violator had been sorry.

  I looked at Scott. “You violated company policy, and for that, despite two and a half decades of service to our company, you will not be getting a severance.”

  “Now wait a minute, Mr. Zambrano. You cannot fire this man because of me.”

  I looked at her. “I am not. I am firing him because he couldn't keep a petite woman who couldn't weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet from sneaking past him. If he is unable to do that, how will he keep bigger threats away?”

  I paused and I saw her eyes moisten.

  “Perhaps next time you will think of others before doing a selfish act.”

  “Fuck you.”

  My eyes detoured down to my watch. Five times. Twelve minutes.

  “That's what I'm here for you pompous ass.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. Now I was beginning to get pissed. This petite vixen was insulting me after she trespassed and caused trouble?

  Fuck. That. Shit.

  I looked at the guys. “Edgar, do as I told you.” My eyes landed on Scott. “Goodbye Scott. Thank you for your service.”

  Both nodded and left. My sincerely annoyed gaze returned to her.

  “How could you fire someone who worked so long for you?”

  “Quite easily, as you've just seen. Now, Dr. Laurenti, you have one minute to explain to me why you trespassed into my building and office after midnight.”

  “You cannot have my building.”

  “What building are you speaking of?”

  “Metro line.”

  I leaned back and sighed. That explained a lot.

  “It is a city-improvement project that will bring revenue, jobs, and desirability to that area.”

  She snorted again.

  “You mean, you're booting out poor locals and small business owners barely scraping by to build your high-end shopping center and expensive high-rise condo building.”

  I sat back just watching her.

  “It will improve the area.”

  “It would leave the people who already live there homeless. It would leave the small business owners without livelihoods.”

  It was me who laughed derisively this time.

  “Dr. Laurenti, we offered those people two times the market rate for their properties. We might be businessmen, but we aren't assholes.”

  She rolled. Her. Fucking. Eyes.

  My fists clenched.

  “I'm not sure you're aware of this considering your tastes, wealth, and salary,” she spat, looking around for, presumably, dramatic effect, “but Miami is a very expensive city to live and work in. That money won't get them far.”

  “That is not my problem, Dr. Laurenti. We've been more than generous, more so than we needed to be. Homeowners with a house and land valued at $200,000 received $400,000. It's unheard of. We have a good reputation in the community for thinking about the community and not just profits. We're an enterprise not a charity, yet here we offered these people twice what their property was worth.”

  She exhaled noisily. “Well, you won't be getting mine.”

  My eyes narrowed on her. She was under my skin, something that didn't usually happen. My eyes roamed over her petite frame but everything was left to my imagination. Her lab coat and scrubs hid every appealing quality she could have possessed.

  Her loose mouth ruined any illusion.

  “You know, we could have easily gone the eminent domain route, Dr. Laurenti. They would have received a fraction of what we gave them. We chose instead to do things the right and moral way.”

  She huffed a breath out.

  “Perhaps you're in need of an examination yourself since you keep snorting like a horse.”

  Her cheeks actually reddened with aggravation. It was great.

  “What do you know about what's right and moral, Mr. Zambrano.”

  The way she said my last name had me pursing my lips in annoyance.

  “Besides, eminent domain can't be used for what you're planning.”

  My sigh was purposefully condescending much like an adult’s would be to a child. I saw her clench her jaw when she noticed.

  She was going to educate me about the law?

  Not in this lifetime.

  “Dr. Laurenti, I’ll give you a quick lesson in Miami politics. Money talks. We could have easily approached the city and county governments with our city-improvement plan. Donate money here and there. Lunches here and there. Political campaigns here and there. This isn’t a new concept. In fact, it’s been done before- designating one road as important to public transportation. The choices and options were endless. Instead, we gave these owners more than what their property was worth. Don’t stand here in my office and tell me we don't know about morals. You can get the hell out of my office if you continue with that bullshit.”

  She cracked a smile. “So the impeccable businessman and lawyer does have a foul mouth.”

  “Sweetheart-”

  Yep, I “sweathearted” her, and that hit where I wanted it. Her lips shriveled into little raisins.

  “This mouth is a lot of things. Dirty and foul are only two of its many fun attributes.”

  Her blush was genuine, and I was fascinated. Riveted, really.

  “You’re disgusting. I don’t care about your sexual proclivities.”

  I laughed. I let one loose; I couldn’t help it.

  “Who’s speaking of sex, Dr. Laurenti? My vocabulary is colorful and vast. I have an exotic palate and rampant tastes.”

  “Oh? Let me guess, Latin, Russian, Irish, and Asian?”

  The second laugh that escaped me was as genuine as the first.

  “I do love me some Italian, too,” I said, as my wanting eyes traveled over her boxy form. “And when my appetite is large, I have them all on the same plate like at a buffet.”

  She inhaled sharply and released an annoyed breath. “God, you’re a disgusting dick.”

  I smiled at her, and her eyes landed on my dimples. The ladies loved those, and it looked like she was no different.

  “So I’ve been told. A big, muscular dick, with a thick head. I’m a fun guy, what can I say.”

  She shook her head. I thought I saw a smile wanting to crack that plaster on her face. Hmmm, or maybe not.

  “You’re not getting my building, Mr. Zambrano-”

  “Please, we’ve spoken about dirty mouths and big dicks. I think it’s ok if you call me Roman.”

  “Mr. Zambrano,” her tone stressed. “You won’t be booting me out. You want my building, you’re going to have fight me for it.”

  I smiled at her. “Now that sounds like fun.”

  My intercom beeped. “Yes, Mildred.”

  “Mr. Zambrano, the clerk called.”

  My heart sped up. “Yes?”

  “The jury has reached a verdict.”

  I looked at my watch, surprised that it was almost one in the morning.

  “So late?”

  “They said the jury was close to a verdict and hadn’t wanted to delay it. The judge allowed them.”

  In other words, they didn’t want to be sequestered another day.

  “Ok. How long?”

  “They want to convene in a half-hour.”

  I looked at my watch again, grabbing my cell phone, keys, and suit jacket.

  “This has been entertaining, Dr. Laurenti, but I have to go.” I hit the button on the intercom. “Mildred, please see Dr. Laurenti out. Call Edgar and have him escort her out of the building.”

  She pursed her lips and looked cute, but my focus was on the verdict and my brother.

  “This won’t be the last you see of me.”

 
; I spared her a glance and my eyes wandered over her again. “Preferably in something more revealing.”

  I heard her gasp as I left my office, my laugh trailing behind me.

  Chapter 3

  Izzy

  Mildred was there in the office after that asshole walked out.

  I hadn't expected someone my age, that's for sure.

  Or the hulking giant behind the desk. I just pictured some graying old man as the general counsel.

  Zambrano’s dark hair had been styled perfectly except for a wayward hair that fell on his forehead. He had very masculine features. Nothing about him was soft except for the fringe of dark eyelashes and eyebrows, which only served to make those blue electric eyes stand out more. His skin was tan as if he wasn't afraid of the sun.

  “Can I get you something before you leave, Dr. Laurenti.”

  My eyes fell on the conservative secretary who wasn’t unattractive. She looked just over fifty. She wore a conservative business suit with pants. Her hair was in a bun at the nape of her neck.

  Well isn’t that something. No short skirt requirement from her boss? Surprising.

  “No, thank you.”

  I walked alongside her until we reached the floor's lobby. I turned to her before she could push the elevator call button.

  “How do you work for him?”

  She looked taken aback. “Roman?”

  I was shocked at her use of his first name. “Yes. Mr. Zambrano.”

  She laughed and a genuine smile reached her eyes. “He’s a great boss. They all are, actually.”

  “I find that very hard to believe.”

  Mildred sighed. “I have worked here since my early twenties. They have always been kind to me and all their employees.”

  “They are cutthroat.”

  Mildred shook her head. “They can be but not always, Dr. Laurenti. They provide generous benefits to their employees. They are fair, and tolerate no mistreatment. You really have no idea how kind they can be.”

  My eyes studied her for long moments.

  “Apparently not.”

  She led me to the elevator.

  “What about these crazy hours he makes you work?” I asked with a sweep of my hand.

  She laughed. “At times like these, he gives me a choice. If I cannot work this late when he needs me, he calls on other secretaries who would kill to work these hours.”

  “Why?”

  “He triples our pay.”

  I groaned, annoyed that my opinion of Mr. Zambrano was being dismantled. I heard Mildred laugh again.

  “Goodnight, Mildred.”

  “Goodnight Dr. Laurenti.”

  In the elevator, I was greeted by Edgar, who smiled at me a little too genially after the incident in the office. We descended to the lobby. When the elevator stopped, he accompanied me to the front glass doors. With one suspicious look at him, I left, but not before I noticed the new guard occupying the seat Scott had.

  God, I felt like shit.

  Out on the sidewalk, I walked to my clunker and noticed the damn meter ran out of money. You’d think I’d be given a break since the streets were empty, but no. I looked at my windshield and saw the ticket. I read the sign on the meter that said the meter needed to be paid through midnight.

  Just. Great.

  I had literally gotten here at 11:30PM, but the shenanigans at the front desk took me longer than the stupid fifty cents I had fed the meter bought me. Stupid me- I thought fifteen minutes would’ve been enough to give that dick a piece of my mind. I yanked the ticket off my windshield, crumbled it, and threw in the passenger seat. After two tries, my car started up but gave a shudder. That’s all I need, for my hooptie to break down. Like I had the damn money for this right now.

  I accelerated and left the ritzy part of town, making my way to my neck of the woods, or rather, the urban jungle. I didn’t live in the greatest of places, and I really didn’t have a choice. The building that the asshole Zambranos wanted- well, if I was being honest, they weren't the only ones who wanted it- not only housed the free clinic I barely had the funds to run, but it also served as my home. I also had offers from others, but they weren't as high as the Zambranos. Wasn't I a lucky girl? Anyways, my clinic was in a poor side of town, where I felt the people would need me the most. Between the clinic’s expenses, my student loans, and living expenses, I was in a whole different category of broke.

  I was only thirty-two years old. I’d worked my butt off to finish undergrad and medical school earlier than most so that I could begin my residency younger. I worked my way through every stage of my life. I basically worked a full-time job and volunteered at a clinic throughout my schooling. I took out student loans the likes of which would make the wealthiest top one percent shudder. I packed in a lot in a short period of time. I suppose it’s a good thing I don’t need a lot of sleep to keep me going.

  So here I was, in debt up to my eyeballs. I managed to save nearly every penny I earned at a top practice I worked at. I bought this building over a year ago, and set it up to help the community. I couldn’t afford a separate apartment, so I made the top floor my home. Everything in my life was mortgaged or in debt, but I’d be damned if my soul went into that category. Every day, my clinic was packed full of people needing care. This was where the need was, not some other area in another part of this vast city. The Zambranos had offered me four times what I bought this building for, but what good would it do if I moved my clinic and my patients couldn’t see me because they didn’t have transportation? How would they reach me? I did this for them, not me.

  I’m not telling you that the amount of zeros in the letter didn’t give me pause. That amount could’ve easily cleared my debts, but what of my purpose and my patients?

  Am I an idiot? Maybe.

  Do I care about these people? I sure as hell do.

  I want my building, in my side of town, and I didn’t care about anything else. I lived meagerly, but I felt good about the work I did.

  My car began to shudder again.

  “Damn it, don’t do this to me now, Lola.”

  I pulled over about three miles away from home just in time for my car to stall. Lola wasn’t going to start up anytime soon. I swear, sometimes it felt like I pissed someone off out in the universe to deserve the crap that happened to me.

  I got out of my car with my backpack. I was grateful I used it tonight. Certainly, it would be easier than running with a purse. I took off my lab coat and stuffed it inside along with my gun. The note that had been left for me caught my eye. I'd found it on the floor in front of the entrance door. I had a mail slot, where it had likely been pushed through. I shivered when I remembered what the printed text said.

  Amore a prima vista.

  Italian for love at first sight.

  It could've been anyone. I'd been hit on by patients before, and he or she probably thought they were being cute by typing the message in Italian. My name made my heritage obvious.

  I shook my head, not allowing fear to grip me. It was ok.

  It would be ok.

  I would be ok.

  I relaxed my fists and inhaled deeply.

  I don't think anything can be done, but I'll call the cops and ask anyway.

  Pulling my blond hair back in a tight ponytail and covering my head with a Marlins baseball cap, I straightened my glasses. I tightened my shoes, and secured my car making sure I didn’t leave anything valuable behind. Running at this time of night in this neighborhood wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t have choice. I snuggly fitted my backpack, and took off running.

  I hoped to be home in twenty-five minutes.

  Chapter 4

  Roman

  “The jury believed themselves close to a verdict and did not want to recess for the day.” The judge looks at his wristwatch. “It is close to an hour that they reached a verdict.”

  Diego gripped my hand like a vise. On my way to the courthouse, I called the family. They were in the gallery awaiting the verdict. Diego looked
back at Pop, who nodded solemnly at his youngest born.

  Judge Moreno-Rojas looked at the foreman. The man handed over the paper, and the clerk took it to the judge. The judge reviewed the verdict without any noticeable tells. The foreman took the paper back when it was returned by the clerk.

  “You may read the verdict.”

  At the judge's prompting, the foreman read the verdict.

  “On count one, murder in the first degree, we the jury find the defendant not guilty.”

  The courtroom inhaled, some because of shock and others due to relief. Diego's face when he looked at me was the happiest I'd seen him in several years. His eyes welled up, and I clenched my jaw, squeezing his hand tightly.

  I'd done it.

  The lesser-included charges were read, also finding him not guilty. It was a straight win for me, in the most important case of my life. After the judge polled the jury, he dismissed them and then took care of administrative issues. It was a half-hour later before we were outside getting into our cars. Diego inhaled a deep breath and opened his arms out, looking up at the dark sky.

  “Freedom.”

  My father walked to him and gripped the back of his neck.

  “Keep yourself straight, Diego.” He brought him in for a tight hug, and my mother joined him.

  “I will, Pop.”

  Pop let go and walked over to me. He stared at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. We were at eye level. My pop was a large man, as were me and my brothers, and he was in impeccable shape. He and my mother made an incredibly good-looking couple. She was as beautiful as she ever was, and still managed to turn the heads of men at her age. My father's stare made their heads turn back with whiplash.

  Pop grabbed the back of my neck and brought me in. His other arm wound around me and he hugged me tightly. This was nothing new; we were a close and loving family.

  “You.” His voice was gruff in my ear. He was emotional, I could tell. “You did it again.” He slapped my back. He moved back and looked at me straight in the eyes.

  “You are my greatest accomplishment. You are this family's savior.” His eyebrows furled as his gaze grew sharper. “I love you, hijo.”

  I gave him an answering smirk. “Money talks, Pop, and sounds as if you have some words there. Back it up with a raise.”