by Mia Taylor
“I asked you a question! What the hell is wrong with you?”
Luca knew he needed to resolve the matter at hand before it got completely out of hand.
“Why are you making accusations without basis?” Giovanni continued.
“What do you want me to say, boss? It’s too much of a coincidence. All this stuff being seized suddenly? Someone is definitely talking. Maybe your new guy or—”
“Or maybe you’re screwing up your job and getting sloppy.”
Luca clamped his mouth shut, knowing there was little point in arguing with the man. He had said his piece and if Giovanni wanted to hear it, he would.
If not, Luca suspected they would be having the same conversation in another week.
Sooner or later, he’s going to see that one of these men are snitches, whether or not he wants to. The sooner he acknowledges it, the better off he’ll be.
“You watch your filthy mouth in front of the men,” Giovanni continued. “You’re gonna cause unrest among them if you start with that shit. You know better than this, Luca. Your papa taught you better.”
Luca bristled at the mention of his father and Giovanni seemed to pick up on it immediately.
“Have another drink, figlio. You’re tense. I can see it in your face. What’s on your mind?”
Giovanni gestured for the bartender, snapping his fingers rudely until she approached, the bottle of grappa in her hands.
“Doesn’t my boy look stressed out, cara?” he asked the long-time employee. “Look at his face.”
“He has a nice face,” Tanya chirped, filling his glass and winking at him, leaning her full breasts into his face teasingly, but Luca’s scowl only deepened.
Tanya flirted with all the men. It was an unspoken part of her job. It didn’t make him feel special.
“You see? Tanya thinks you’re handsome. What does a handsome kid like you have to worry about, huh? Just do your goddamned job and get the next shipment through, capisce?”
Luca rose, downing his freshly poured drink in one gulp before nodding, his brow still knit.
“Yeah, I got it,” he agreed.
“Luca…”
He gazed at Giovanni over his shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“You going today?”
The old bastard remembered! He didn’t know why he was surprised. Every time he thought the don was slipping, he’d do something to shock Luca.
The younger man nodded, not trusting his voice.
“Good. Send him my love, okay?”
Luca bobbed his head and stalked into the kitchen before Giovanni could say anything else. He didn’t have the stomach for a longer conversation on that matter.
He pushed his way through the kitchen staff, making his way outside to where his Saab was parked in the alleyway behind Giovanni’s restaurant.
Cesare was still there, smoking a cigarette.
“You got nine lives, you know that?” Ces sighed. “I don’t know how you get away with the shit you do.”
Luca unlocked the car and shrugged.
“Just saying what’s what,” he replied flippantly, opening the car door. “Can’t fault me for that.”
“Hey,” Ces said, stepping toward him, tossing the butt on the ground. “Are you okay? You’ve been more of an asshole than usual the past few days.”
“I’m good,” Luca lied.
I’m always good, aren’t I?
Luca slipped into his burgundy 9-5 and drove off, leaving Cesare staring after him, a perplexed look on his face.
How the hell do any of them know if I’m in a good mood or bad mood? he thought, his knuckles tightening against the wheel as he booted up Brickell Avenue, out of the downtown core. They think they know me but they don’t know anything about about me.
He knew he was being irrational in that moment, his anger misguided, but that didn’t stop him from continuing his mental rage as he drove.
Just because I was born into this shit and will die doing this shit doesn’t mean they own me or know what’s in my head.
As he continued up I-1 toward Fort Lauderdale, his heart began to steady, knowing he was leaving Miami behind.
I need to stop, he realized as he neared his destination, his eyes resting on a shop where he steered his Saab.
He didn’t immediately get out of the car, his hands still firmly around the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead.
I can’t believe another year has passed. God, I hate today.
Slowly, he grabbed his keys from the console and entered the store for his purchase, sweeping his hand through his dark mop of hair.
A single wave fell insistently back over his broad forehead, blocking his widow’s peak from view.
As he slammed the driver’s side door, he saw a group of teenaged girls turn to stare at him, giggling and whispering as their eyes lit up with interest.
His green eyes passed over them without acknowledgment and he would have ignored them altogether if a blonde girl in a halter top had not stepped forward.
She twirled a strand of hair between her fingers, her brown eyes wide and innocent as she sashayed toward him in too-short jean shorts.
“Hi,” she offered. “Nice car.”
Luca grunted in response, reaching for the door, but she stepped between him and the entrance, smiling demurely.
“Do you think you could do us a favor?” she asked sweetly.
Luca stared at her, unspeaking.
For a moment, he thought his stoic expression was enough to deter her from pursuing any further conversation, but she seemed confident in her abilities.
His eyes flittered back toward the other three girls who were watching her with awe in their eyes. The blonde was obviously the leader of their pack.
“Could you buy us some beer?” she asked. “We have money but we all forgot our ID.”
He studied her face closely, gauging her age to be around fifteen, sixteen at most.
“Beer, huh?” he asked, allowing a lazy smile to form on his lips. “Why don’t I take you to the liquor store and get us a bottle of vodka? We can all party together.”
Her eyes blazed with interest and she spun to look at her friends as if she had won the jackpot.
“That would be amazing!” she squealed and then immediately checked her tone, casting her eyes downward flirtatiously.
“Great. But I can only take you. Your friends have to wait here.”
She looked up uncertainly.
“Oh…”
He shrugged.
“Your call.”
His hand reached for the handle again and she made her decision.
“Okay!”
“No, Sasha!” one of her friends called and Luca glared at her. The girl’s face turned pale.
“I mean, thanks, we’re good.”
“It’s okay!” Sasha insisted. “I’ll be right back!”
“You should listen to your friend,” Luca snapped, pushing her aside. “She’s apparently the only one with a brain in your group.”
“What?” Sasha asked, her brow furrowing in confusion, the smile still on her face.
“Never mind,” he snapped. “You’re not even smart enough to understand a life lesson when it’s staring you in the face.”
“Does that mean we’re not going to the liquor store?” she yelled after him as he tried to brush past her.
“Sasha!” her concerned friend yelled. “Forget about it!”
Luca snickered.
“Wow, you can do math after all.”
“Wait! Can you still buy us beer?” Sasha pleaded and Luca whirled to stare at her, his eyes flashing.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded. “You just agreed to get in a stranger’s car for a sip of vodka. You know what’s next? Selling your ass on a corner in Hialeah for an ounce of smack. Get your shit together, go home to your parents, and stay in school.”
Sasha blinked, tears filling her eyes, and her friends flocked to her, pulling her back as if Luca had physicall
y wounded her.
“You’re an asshole!” one of the girls cried, hugging Sasha to her.
“You think I’m an asshole?” he laughed. “You haven’t seen shit if you continue on this path.”
He stormed into the store and signaled for the clerk.
“There’s a bunch of tweenagers hitting up customers for beer out there. You should call the cops,” he muttered, turning away to find what he was looking for.
When he left the store five minutes later, the group had vanished.
Good. I hope they think twice about doing anything that stupid again, he thought, but he couldn’t shake the sensation that he had just unnecessarily scarred those girls for life.
They were only kids after all.
We were all kids once, he thought, pulling back onto the interstate. I wish I’d had more of a reality check when I was a kid. It would make days like today much more bearable.
He pushed aside the idea that he was unleashing his own inner turmoil on unsuspecting kids.
We all need to grow up sometime.
He continued along until he reached the outskirts of Fort Lauderdale, guiding the vehicle into the cemetery parking lot.
Grabbing the flowers from the driver’s seat, he inhaled shakily before getting out of the car.
Time to pay his respects.
Chapter Two
Already Finding Trouble
Angela drummed her fingers against the table, captivated by the length of the nails on her hand. She’d never experienced such a sight on her usually short-cropped nails and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from it.
Do women really wear their manicures this long? It’s farcical, she thought, staring at them in disbelief, the red of the polish causing her to blush slightly.
Nothing about Teresa Milano reflected her personality and as she sat at the bar waiting, she could not shake the sense that she was going to blow her cover as soon as she opened her mouth.
“You have this woman inside you,” Special Agent Duggan assured her. “You just have to channel your inner Teresa and run with it.”
They couldn’t have started me with someone a little less out there, huh? I had to walk in, red dress and stilettos like the whore of Babylon.
In all fairness, while the dress was red, it wasn’t crimson or cherry. It was a deep, matte color which was very flattering to her dark hair and olive complexion.
And it was stylish, not slutty, but that was all a matter of perception to a woman who had last worn a dress to her sister’s wedding two years earlier. She was out of her element and she couldn’t find a hint of Angela anywhere inside her.
“You want to stand out,” Terry explained. “But you don’t want to attract the wrong attention. This is Miami, after all. The competition is somewhat fierce.”
“You don’t think these claws will attract the wrong attention?” she demanded, holding up her hand in dismay.
“They aren’t as bad as you think,” he sighed. “El Cajon really didn’t prepare you for the outside world, did it?”
Angela was embarrassed but she hid it smoothly.
“Sorry,” she replied sharply. “My experience with mob wives is limited to VH-1.”
The agent snickered.
“Well, then you should be adequately educated. It’s really not that much different.”
She had no idea if he was joking or not.
I guess I’m going to find out.
Sighing, Angela glanced at her watch again and the bartender winked at her, leaning over the bar, her full bosom spilling out the top of her V-neck. A small, tasteful tattoo licked her neck just beneath her ear.
“Hot date?” she asked and Angela’s head whipped up, her black hair tumbling around her bare shoulders.
Every encounter you have, every word you speak, every smile you give going forward belongs to Teresa. Don’t forget that.
Duggan’s words reverberated in her mind on a loop.
And you’re on…
Angela moaned, dropping her palms onto the bar for effect as if she was deeply exasperated.
“I thought so,” she muttered. “Goddamned Tinder.”
The blonde behind the bar grinned, her eyebrows raising as she nodded understandingly.
“Yeah, I’ve had my fair share of those too,” she conceded sympathetically. “Welcome to Miami.”
Angela sighed dramatically.
“Can I get another?” she asked, forcing a depressed note into her voice as she signaled at her empty glass. “May as well drown my sorrows while I’m here.”
“Ah, chin up,” the server laughed, reaching for her glass. “It’s Tinder. Pull out your phone and make another connection.”
“No, thank you,” Angela replied. “One rejection is more than enough for one night. I’m just going to lick my wounds and go home.”
The bartender made a commiserating noise as she slipped the drink before her.
“I’m Tanya,” she offered, holding out her hand, and Angela accepted it.
Teresa. Your name is Teresa.
“Teresa Milano.”
Their palms met and for a terrifying second, Angela was afraid her hands were drenched in sweat.
The blonde studied her face.
“You’re not from Miami, are you?” Tanya asked and Angela had to swallow a laugh.
See? I’ve said five words and my cover is already blown. I stick out here like a sore thumb.
“I’m from Richmond, Virginia.”
“Ah,” the bartender chuckled. “That explains it.”
“What?”
“Well, you dress the part but you’ve got the good Southern girl thing going on. You can take the girl out of the south…”
Angela’s smile froze on her face.
I knew it. I’m going to get found out. Shit! My cover is blown!
She willed the panic to subside and tried to reclaim Teresa’s state of mind.
“Just trying to blend in,” Angela said quickly and Tanya laughed, placing her hand over hers.
“Trust me, honey, you don’t want to blend it. Everyone in Miami looks the same. You want to stand out.”
That’s exactly what Duggan said. Maybe the giant bastard really knows what he’s talking about after all.
Angela glanced at the bartender’s hand, wondering if she was reading too much into the gesture, but her cop’s intuition told her that Tanya was not merely being friendly.
I wonder if her angle has ever been questioned.
Angela mentally filed Tanya away for future use.
When she got in touch with Agent Duggan later, she could have him check her out.
“Anyway, pretty girls like you won’t take long to get noticed. Especially not in a place like this,” Tanya continued, her smile widening as she shifted her eyes toward the entrance, slipping her hand back to her side of the bar.
Angela turned to see where she was looking and her heart sped up slightly.
Of course she was inside La Perla for a reason.
Everyone knew that Giovanni DiMarco owned the high-end Italian eatery in the heart of downtown and that his crew frequented the spot.
The problem was, there was no rhyme or reason as to when they showed, despite the years of surveillance the establishment had undergone.
“You should start there and become known as a regular. Make friends with anyone you can. You’re the new girl in town, sweet but ready for adventure,” Duggan told her. “You might not contact anyone for days but at least you are making your presence known. Use your ears, not your mouth. Don’t ask a lot of questions and don’t volunteer information. I know that you’ve only had a few days of training but I think you’re ready.”
Bullshit, Angela thought, watching as Carlo Suzzi and his wife wandered inside the establishment, dressed like a Hollywood celebrity couple. No amount of training could prepare me for this.
Andrea Suzzi was dripping in diamonds from ears to hands, a mink stole around her shoulders despite the eighty-degree heat in the evening.
>
Her lumpy, potato form was held together in a Vera Wang which likely cost more than what Angela paid for rent in a year.
The underboss was in an elegant pinstriped suit, reminiscent of Al Capone with a matching fedora. For a fleeting second, Ang felt like she’d stepped onto the set of “Boardwalk Empire”.
Escorting his wife toward the hostess station, neither of them bothered to look up as if they expected all eyes to fall on them.
Miami royalty, she thought scornfully. Murdering, pimping, thieving oligarchs.
“You shouldn’t gawk. They don’t like it,” Tanya murmured at her and Angela turned her head back toward the bartender.
My ass they don’t like it. They command it. Purposely.
“I’m sorry!” she breathed, tinging pink as she added a slight Southern drawl to her voice for effect. “They just look so glamorous. Are they famous?”
Tanya picked up a glass from the sterilizer and put it in its proper place, a small grin on her face.
“You don’t know who they are?” the bartender chuckled. “Really?”
She shook her head.
“Should I? Oh, let me guess—” she started.
“No, no!” Tanya stopped her, losing the amused grin on her face. “Never mind. You want another drink?”
Angela glanced at the half-drunk vodka soda before her.
“I probably shouldn’t…” she sighed but Tanya was already pouring her another.
“One more won’t hurt. What else are you doing tonight anyway, right?”
“You’re a good bartender,” Angela muttered, grateful that she had no issue handling her alcohol. For a relatively meek individual, drinking was one thing she knew she could do without issue.
Just like my daddy. I bet Daddy would have liked Tanya too. Blonde, big boobs. Just his type. Exactly the opposite of Mom.
Angela was annoyed that her daddy issues were resurfacing at the most inopportune time and shoved them aside.
Maybe I’m not handling my alcohol as well as I like to think.
“Oh,” Tanya commented lightly, placing a fresh drink in front of her. “Looks like we’re going to have a slew of regulars gracing us with their presence today.”
There was a slight edge to her voice and Angela turned to see where she was looking.
“You need to pay up your tab and get out of here,” Tanya said, a new urgency in her voice. “Or don’t pay it. Come back later and take care of it. Just get out of here quickly.”
