THE GAMBLER: a Mafia Romance (Bad Romance Book 3)

by Shanna Bell

  So, here she sat. At a table in a bar, enjoying her monthly girls’ night, feeling a tad bit depressed. In a silver, sequin dress, no less. Being used to jeans and anything in black, she felt like a Christmas tree on Ritalin. Unlike her bestie, Jazzy, Tess had bypassed the ‘girly-girl’ stage altogether. Makeup wasn’t her thing and she didn't give a crap about designer clothes. Not that she could afford them anyway. This didn’t mean she didn’t have a closet with a few ridiculous expensive pieces of apparels in it, courtesy of Jazzy Detta. Outside of their girls’ night out, Tess just hardly ever used them.

  She was pulled out of her musings when Tommie waved a hand in her face.

  “That’s my move, dude,” she scolded him.

  He winked and pushed another cocktail in her hands. Her head already spun, and she put down the drink. A million things went through her mind.

  Luca.

  Worries.

  Alcohol.

  Cruz.

  Except, Cruz was just the tip of the iceberg. She had to find a way to tell Luca he was gunning for the wrong man. But how? Maybe another margarita would help.

  Yes, because alcohol is a real problem solver.

  It can make your worries drown.

  Nope. My worries can float just fine.

  “So, what’s up with you and Luca?” Tommie asked.

  “Not much.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Mary gave her a look. “He didn’t look too pleased tonight when we came to pick you up. Also, he handed you your jacket really fast, like he wanted to cover you up or something.”

  Tess snorted. “That’s because the gap in my cleavage is a possible health hazard. He can’t have me catch a cold and get sick. How else would he find his archnemesis?”

  “I don’t think that’s why he threw a jacket over you,” Tommie said in a weird tone.

  “Maybe you’re right.” Mary threw a frown toward the bar. “Who knows why men do the things they do?”

  Tess followed her gaze only to find Mary’s husband, Hector checking them out. As always, he was focused on his wife. She imagined that the possessive man became even more protective when they had their baby a few months back.

  “Yikes.” Tommie followed Mary’s focus. “Way to go, girl, ice that big chunk of manliness right out of your face. Forget Tess. What’s up with you two?”

  Tess found Hector frowning back at his wife. The club was beginning to turn into a big frowning festival. Wonderful.

  “We had words about him spoiling Zoe rotten,” Mary explained. “And by spoiling, I mean spoiling. As in, anything she wants, he just buys for her. So, I’m not speaking to him right now.”

  Ah, the much overrated and counter-effective silent treatment. “That’s no way to punish a guy,” Tess explained. “You should talk more to him. Like, a lot more. According to a study, you punish a guy more by talking his ears off than keeping your mouth shut. In fact, most men see it as a gift when their wife shuts her hole. I believe they perceive it as a moment of silent, marital bliss.”

  Mary’s mouth dropped. Then her eyes narrowed as she slowly turned toward Hector again. “Oh my God. Of course. I just never saw it that way before.”

  Before Tess could get into the not-so-very academic scientific proof of the social sciences, Mary had veered off toward her husband.

  Hector folded his arms across his large chest as his wife, who barely reached his chest, started talking to him. And kept on talking. Adding in gestures with her hands. In fact, Mary didn’t shut up for at least five minutes. A strange thing happened when Mary started telling Hector off. A smile formed on the former Marine’s face. A smile that Tess could only describe as… wolfish.

  Tommie was following the one-sided discussion with much interest. “Yeah, I don’t think Hector feels like his marital bliss is over now Mary’s talking. He looks like he…um—”

  “Just wants to eat her up.” The way Luca had looked at her the other night. The way he had kissed her as if he couldn't get enough of her. It was the strangest feeling, and even thinking about it made her tingle and formed a hot spark in her belly. Strange because she hadn’t believed it possible to feel that way. Strange because never before had the reality of something she’d read about been better in real life. Her life just didn’t work out that way. A father was supposed to love and protect his child; in theory. In reality, her father never had. Being smart and working hard was supposed to land you a good job. It hadn’t happened. Exchanging scorching kisses with your boyfriend? Never happened to her. Well, not before Luca, and he technically wasn’t even her boyfriend.

  A collective laugh shook her out of her thought. Everyone was looking at the bar. Hector had thrown Mary over his shoulder and sauntered off with her.

  “There’s the Hector I know,” Tommie said. “Guess your advice wasn’t so sound after all.”

  True that. “So much for the social sciences.”

  Tommie chugged down the rest of his drink. “What a sad getting laid night it is tonight. Now, we’re only left with two. We should make a new rule about this night. Whoever doesn’t show up has to pay for the drinks the next time.”

  “I second that.” She glanced at the bar and found Hector’s right-hand man looking after his boss with a smile. “So, Tommie, when are you going to ask Achilles on a date?”

  Tommie almost choked on his drink. “Achilles? He's straight.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  “That’s not the same as sure,” she pointed out. She got up and waved Achilles over from the bar.

  “What are you doing?” Tommie hissed.

  She didn’t answer him but just waited for the blond, hulking bodyguard to reach their table. As usual, the guy was dressed in black fatigues and a Henley.

  “Hey, Achilles.”

  “Hi, Tess, what can I do for you?”

  “You can answer a question.”

  “Sure.”

  “Are you straight?”

  He looked perplexed for a moment but then smiled. “I'm as straight as an arrow. But not always.” A wink, and then he left.

  Tess turned to Tommie, whose mouth was hanging open. “See, there you go.”

  “There I go?” Tommie sputtered. “I’m more confused than ever.”

  “You’re not the only one,” she grumbled. It was time to take the bull by the horns. This time, not for a friend but for herself. It was time to do stuff. Hot, sizzling, delicious stuff.

  “What should I do?” Tommie asked. “Should I do anything?”

  It was getting increasingly hot inside. Maybe that third cocktail hadn’t been such a good idea.

  “If you don’t do anything, you get nothing,” she replied, as she called an Uber. “Seize the day, Tommie, just seize the day.”

  A determined expression crossed Tommie’s face. “You’re right. I should be brave. And bold.”

  “And ballsy,” Tess added. “You go up to him now and ask him on a date. I’ll see you later.”

  “Hold on. Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to take my own advice,” she hiccupped. Leaving behind a sputtering Tommie, she was back at Luca’s place in half an hour. The doorman let her in and offered to call Luca up, but she declined.

  I can make it upstairs myself just fine.

  The slightly swaying walls and floor weren’t much help, but she made it anyway. Since she still didn’t have any keys, she rang the doorbell. Once, twice, then she kept her finger on it. Or maybe she did that from the get-go, who knew?

  Luca opened the door wearing sports shorts. Little dots of sweat had formed on his bare chest. His very, hot chest with a treasure trail on his six-pack that led to—

  “Oh, you look so yummy.”

  He smiled. “Are you drunk?”

  “No, I’m Tess. Tess Gibson. Nice to meet you. I fix computers.” Then she whispered, ‘cause it was her superhero side job, “I also find people and information.”

  Why w
as she looking up at the ceiling?

  “Put your arms around my neck,” Luca instructed.

  Right. He was carrying her in his arms. With a sigh, she nestled in his arms, nicely against his chest. He smelled like an honest day of workout.

  When he started walking toward the guest room, she stopped him. “Wait. I don’t wanna go to sleep yet. Take me to your room.”

  He tensed. “What are you saying?”

  Didn’t she have some sort of a plan? A reason why she’d left poor Tommie behind in the murky waters of a possible heart-shattering rejection? Yes, she did.

  Sadly, she’d never mastered the subtle art of flirting, so honesty was key here. “I want to explore your body.”

  His breath caught but he stopped moving. They were standing right in front of the bathroom. If he made a left, they would be going to his room.

  “You’re drunk, so I don’t think—”

  She put a finger on his lips, effectively hushing him. “I’m just a bit tipsy, but I know what I’m saying, and I definitely know what I want. No more thinking, please. Can’t we just do instead?”

  His eyes went to her cleavage that bared half her breasts. “Fuck. You’re never wearing this dress out in public again. I mean, since we’re pretending to be engaged, I can tell you, no way in hell would I be okay with you walking around like that without me by your side.”

  “Then maybe you should take it off.” Another curse followed but all she could do was smile. Never before had she felt so empowered. So completely free to say and do anything. He made her feel strong. “And take off your pants as well,” she added. “I want to touch you everywhere.”

  The next moment, they crashed on his bed, with him on top of her. All thoughts of her exploring him and giving him the same pleasure as he’d done to her, flew out of the window. He had her dress removed within a second. The piece of fabric landed somewhere on the floor. Her panties and bra followed. Then he spread her legs and dove right between her legs.

  “Oh, God.” Her moan could probably be heard through the entire building. She didn’t care. Not as long as his tongue was doing these wicked things to her.

  Then, suddenly, there was a cracking sound at the door.

  Oh, shit. Her buzz disappeared at lightning speed.

  Luca jackknifed out of the bed. He shot to the cabinet and suddenly he was holding a gun in his hand, aimed at the door.

  “Don’t move,” he whispered.

  Tess quickly pulled the comforter over her body.

  The next second, the door burst open and they were surrounded by two men wearing camouflage outfits and holding guns. She immediately recognized the big, bad, menacing looking one with a silver buzz cut. If she wasn’t mistaken, the other one was Silent Joe.

  Tess sighed. “Hi, Pops.”

  “It’s been over twenty-four hours since your watch died.”

  Oh, right. She forgot about their arrangement. Craptastic. Now she had to explain him to Luca. And Luca to Pops. Then her pops would insist on getting her out of here.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  Her pops looked Luca up and down. At the way he had placed his body in front of her. “Maybe your troubled Dark Knight has a sense of honor left in him after all, T-girl. But, since I’m holding the guns, I’ll be asking the questions, kid. Who the eff are you?”

  Luca lifted a brow. “I’m her fiancé.”

  Tess couldn’t help herself, she snorted. And okay, maybe she even rolled her eyes a bit. Nope, a lot. Like anyone, least of all her grandfather, would believe that—

  Pops lowered his gun and nodded in approval. “Good. About time she got herself a man who knows how to handle a gun.”

  “What?” she sputtered. “This is not the time for a plea about the Second Amendment.”

  “There’s no plea, sweetie pie, as a hot blooded American, the Constitution gives me the right to—”

  “Nope. Not going there. Can you please focus, Pops?” She pointed accusatory fingers at Luca, who hadn’t lowered his gun but was staring in fascination at her grandfather.

  “I’m damn focused, Tess. You engaged to this guy means you are no longer with that pansy ass professor.”

  Ah, there it was. She should’ve known. “Trevor isn’t a pansy. He’s an achieved scholar who might be opposed to guns, but that doesn’t mean—”

  “He’s a loser. A total slacker. That boy couldn’t beat me in a knife fight with two hands tied behind my back.”

  Sadly, she expected that to be true. “Being able to fight isn’t what makes a man a man,” she argued.

  Now, she had three pairs of eyes staring at her as if she said something totally stupid.

  “It’s exactly what makes a man a man, unicorn. A man who can’t protect his woman is no man,” Luca added.

  She gave him an incredulous look. “Are you for real? He was about to blow your nuts off a minute ago. Now you are defending him?” She wasn’t sure why she was arguing about Trevor’s case. After all, he had used her. But plotting to take him down and admitting out loud to her pops that she was bested by that pansy were two totally different things.

  Luca nodded at Pops. “I think we understand each other just fine.”

  She couldn’t believe it. It was time to nip this bromance in the bud. “He has ties to the Bratva, Pops.”

  “Yeah well, that’s still an upgrade from that milk boy you’ve been dating. Never liked Tim.”

  “Trevor. His name is Trevor and you know it.”

  “I also know that I never trusted him. Now, I’m gonna leave you two youngsters to it. You know where to find me when you need me.”

  With those parting words, he disappeared, as if going up in smoke. He sure liked to be dramatic.

  “I can’t believe he just left me here with you,” Tess grumbled.

  Luca was staring in her grandfather’s wake. “That was your pops? The guy was dressed for Armageddon. He looks like Schwarzenegger.”

  “Not what you expected, huh?”

  “The way you talked about him, I expected more Santa Claus and less Rambo.”

  Yup. Us Gibsons are like that. What you think we are isn’t always what you get.

  CHAPTER 14

  LUCA

  Luca woke up to the smell of apple pie. For a second, it took him back to the mornings when his mom had still been alive. He didn’t have a lot of memories of her, but he did remember her loving to bake. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to wake up. It wasn’t the first time his mind played tricks on him. Any second now, he would wake up, only to find himself in a jail cell. The only food he would get would be of the processed kind. His only companions, other convicts. There would be no home-baked apple fucking pie. Except, this time the scent didn’t fade away. It didn’t turn into the cold, sour smell of his unwashed cellmate. The taste of baked apples and cinnamon lingered under his nose, slowly enticing him to open his eyes.

  When he saw the beige and blue wallpaper of his bedroom, he blinked.

  I’m free. I’m still free.

  He took a deep breath, then exhaled. A few more deep breaths and the ever-present darkness between his eyelids dissolved. If his room was real, then maybe the pie was too? He took a quick shower, put on some sweats, and followed the delicious scent into his open kitchen.

  Then he saw her. Tess Gibson. Picture perfect, straight from his erotic dream last night. Fuck, she’d almost crippled him after their make out session, making him hot for the second time and not finishing. Not that he could blame her, but still, a man could only take so much.

  There was no way around her presence in his house. The kitchen counter was stacked with piles and piles of, what appeared to be, muffins. In the center, there was also an apple pie. The baker in question sat on the kitchen island, legs crossed, typing on her phone.

  “You trying to feed an army, or what?” he asked, as he walked over to find coffee. The espresso machine almost disappeared between all the baked goods.

  She looked up from her phone. “I stre
ss bake.”

  Bake talk. Good thinking. Discussing last night would probably be a bad idea. He shouldn’t have descended on her like that anyway.

  “How so?”

  “The insurance company is giving me grief about my stolen goods. Since there are no signs of breaking and entering, it’s going to take a while before they’ll pay up, if ever.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” he said, taking a mug from the cabinet. “I’ll reimburse whatever damage was done.”

  “Not the point. Insurance companies are the big crooks in our lifetime. They’re worse than banks.” He could practically see the wheels turning inside her head.

  “Don’t even,” he warned.

  “Don’t what?” She gave him big, hazel eyes.

  “That so-called innocent look doesn’t fool me, unicorn. There will be no cyber-attack or hacking of any kind toward your insurance company. I need you focused on my case. Also, you can’t help me if the FBI finds you and locks you up, now can you.”

  She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “I’m insulted that you think I’d get caught.”

  “So, what are you going to do today?”

  She pointed at his computer. “Since it’s going to take some time before I can really get on your case, I’m going to work on mine.”

  “Your cases?”

  “Yep. I’m a VPI. A Virtual Private Investigator. I investigate people. It’s mostly people trying to find old boyfriends or girlfriends. Sometimes a lost family member. Lately, I’ve been looking for people cheating online. It’s not the flashiest of jobs, but it does pay the bills. The overhead is near to zero, especially since no one dares to not pay their bill. After all, we live in the digital age, and no one wants to be on a black hat hacker’s shit list.”

  “Didn’t you used to go to college with my sister-in-law? How come you didn’t finish it?”