Barresi: Emily Trilogy: A New Orleans Mafia Romance

by Lux Miller

  “Emily… he has a deep-seated obligation to la famiglia. I can’t even pretend to know what goes on in those meetings, but he always gets so serious before them. I’m not dumb. I know they kill people, but honestly? They’re in the back pocket of the NOPD… if they weren’t doing something that the coppers approved of, they’d never get away with as much as they do.”

  I close my eyes for a moment and inhale several deep breaths. “So if the whole mafia thing… crumbled tomorrow… he’d still be rich?”

  Royce shrugs and stands back up, “I’ve never personally seen his finances, but I know he has one of those lucrative American Express Black cards… the ones where you don’t even have a limit. You just pay it off each month. He pays me with it and trust me, all of this fabulousness doesn’t come cheap… even with a friends and family discount.

  “I suspect he has far more than a million bucks squirreled away somewhere, but I also don’t think he’d ever leave the family… and he certainly wouldn’t walk away scot-free. Blood oaths are not easily broken and those sworn to family are damn near impossible to breach. I suspect that the only way that Luca wouldn’t become the next Don of the New Orleans mafia… is if la famiglia did the impossible and found someone to outshine the prodigal son…”

  I frown at Royce as he spits out his revelation. “So if his fate is sealed, why bother with other endeavors?”

  Royce shrugs. “Luca is a man of exquisite taste, Emily. Have you seen the Windsor Court Hotel? Gah, if I could pick anywhere in New Orleans to die, it would be surrounded in the opulence of that place. The walls are inlaid with gold. The floors are made of gorgeous marble that is imported straight from Italy. Hell, the thread counts of the sheets are like 1000… that place is luxury personified…”

  Chewing my bottom lip slightly, I contemplate the information. Despite the fact that I now know why Luca is considered one of the most eligible bachelors in New Orleans, it doesn’t faze me as much as I thought it would. Deep down, I knew he was from money, but I guess I never stopped to consider how much.

  “So he likes to stay there?”

  Royce blinks at me, then laughs maniacally at my ignorance. “Honey, you really don’t know, do you? Paying you to be his girlfriend wouldn’t have been a drop in the bucket for the amount of money that man has. Just because the two of you decided to date for real doesn’t mean he has any less money, but look, it’s not my place to explain Luca’s financial situation. Perhaps that’s a conversation you should have with him…”

  He jumps up off the bed and snags my hands, pulling me to my feet. “He said meet him at ten so that y’all can get over there and get settled before Midnight Mass. I do declare though, I have outdone myself. You are going to be the shining star tonight…”

  I pull my hands out of his with a soft laugh, “Isn’t tonight supposed to be about God and the baby Jesus? And some obscure Catholic traditions like eating crackers and drinking grape Kool-aid?”

  Royce waves a hand in front of his face. “Pish-posh! While there won’t be paparazzi there, there will still be plenty of people who are only there to save face because they’re pretending to be good Catholics. People who matter will be watching Luca… and by extension, you. Despite it being a house of God, tongues are going to wag tonight, Emily…”

  “I’ll say…”

  My gaze shoots up at the sound of Luca’s voice. He’s leaning against the doorframe of my room with his arms crossed over his chest. His dark green button down shirt is rolled up to his elbows enough that tendrils of his tattoo peek out from underneath the fabric that matches my dress flawlessly. I don’t know how long he’s been standing there and I don’t know how much he’s heard, so I pretend that Royce and I weren’t just discussing him.

  I shoot him a flirty smile and do a little spin. The pleated skirt of the dress twirls in the air as I giggle softly. I point at Royce accusingly. “So much for meeting you at ten. And if you don’t like it, the dress was his idea…”

  Luca straightens his posture and walks over to me, sliding his arms around my waist. He nuzzles his face into my hair, then drops a kiss on top of my head. “Remind me to raise his salary.”

  He smirks at Royce who takes a flourished bow, then waltzes across the room, stopping at the doorway. He motions to a pair of boxes sitting beside my bed. “Red one is for now… green one is for later. Merry Christmas, Luca…”

  Chuckling, Luca leads me over to bed. I sit down on top of the covers and pull the red box onto my lap. As I lift off the lid, my breath catches in my throat. Nestled inside glittery tissue paper is the most beautiful pair of shoes I’ve ever seen. I lift the note off of the top of the shoes and read it aloud, “Cinderella has nothing on you. Slay them, my queen.”

  I raise one eyebrow and set the note on the bed beside me as I pull one of the breathtaking shoes out of the box. Despite the fact that the heel tops three inches, that’s not what intimidates me about the glass slipper lookalikes. “Is he serious? Are these made of glass?”

  Luca chuckles and shakes his head. “I doubt it bella, but I understand the Cinderella reference.”

  I nod and strap one of them onto my foot as the red-bottom of the fancy footwear glares up at me. I stand shakily on the slender, see-through heel then admire my foot. “Wow… you’d think they would hurt like hell, but it’s surprisingly comfortable. I don’t know what kind of Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo mojo he infused into them, but my new nickname for him is seriously going to be Fairy Godmother.”

  Luca grabs the other shoe out of the box and kneels down in front of me with a smirk. He glances up at me and gently grips my other foot, sliding the shoe onto it and fastening the straps around my ankle. “A perfect fit…”

  He stands up in front of me and takes my hand in his, brushing his lips over my knuckles. Raising one eyebrow, I watch him as he releases my hand and motions for me to follow him. “Grab the green box. I have a feeling we’ll want it in my room later tonight.”

  I dutifully follow him and deposit the green box onto his bed with a smile. He rolls down his sleeves and tugs on a black sports coat that matches his tailored pants. He smirks and buttons the dress shirt to his throat, then pulls on a grey tie that matches his eyes and situates it underneath the collar of his shirt. I smile and slip underneath his arm, then murmur, “We have one advantage that Miss Glass Slippers didn’t have though…”

  Luca raises one eyebrow as he peers down at me. “Oh? And what is that?”

  I motion to the wrapped present sitting square in the middle of his bed. “If I know Royce… and I do know him pretty well… I’ve a pretty good idea of what’s in that box. Which means that while Cinderella’s night was restricted to the before-midnight hours, our night is just beginning with midnight.”

  He shivers and eyes me precariously, “Emily… I am going to hell for the thoughts that you just planted in my head.”

  I shrug nonchalantly. “You and I both know that your ticket to hell wasn’t paid for by your lustful thoughts… besides, I’m not going to do anything remotely inappropriate on hallowed grounds.”

  Luca nods and smiles as I tighten his tie, then fold his collar down to hide the loop that encircles his neck. I pat his chest gently and lean up to his ear, whispering softly, “But once your duty to God and family are fulfilled… I plan to have you engage in a completely different kind of worship.”

  TWO

  My breath hitches in my throat as I step into the enormous shadow that looms over Jefferson Square. The millions of twinkling lights that adorn the greenspace make it seem festive and welcoming rather that invoking the usual sense of dread in my gut like this place has always done. Despite the festive atmosphere, Saint Louis Cathedral stands tall above the cool night, silently judging me.

  I’ve spent years hiding in the shadows of the massive landmark, but I’ve never dared to venture inside. Holy places are a refuge for the righteous and my checkered past makes me anything but righteous. I exhale a shaky breath as Luca’s comforting touch disappears fro
m my back as he shakes hands with smartly dressed men and their bundled up wives whose eyes burn holes right through me.

  The patrons who are milling about, chittering excitedly about what Christmas holds for their family were once high-priced targets that I would scope out and rob blind. Often without them even realizing they’d been had. Now I’m trying to blend in among them when just months ago, I was anything but privileged.

  I begin to pace nervously from one side of the narrow walkway to the other, my ridiculously expensive shoes clicking along the concrete. Nobody mentioned it to me earlier, but even a pretty criminal like me can recognize Louboutins. If the red soles weren’t a dead giveaway, the company’s logo scrawled down the inside of the shoe would have given away the secret.

  Granted, now knowing that Luca is not just a millionaire, but a multi-millionaire with even more secrets than I originally thought, makes the guilt of accepting such a high-priced gift fade a bit. If he wants to blow his hard-earned money on pricey shoes, that’s his business. It doesn’t stop me from wondering how he earned so much money at such a young age.

  Royce implied that this money was legit which eases my greatest fear - that Luca may be a trafficker just like Andre was and he eliminated Andre as competition rather than a business deal gone bad. Luca may be the resident bad boy of New Orleans, but it’s somewhat comforting to realize that even he has morals.

  I’m just getting tucked away inside my head as a familiar voice cuts through my thoughts, “If you don’t stop stomping back and forth like a goat, I’m going to be forced to put you out to pasture…”

  I chuckle before opening my eyes. Shaking my head, I call him out before I even confirm who’s taunting me, “Dante… if you don’t can it, they’re going to be surgically removing my shoe from your ass.”

  Dante shrugs with a smirk. “Meh, add it to the ever-growing list of surgical enhancements I’m being forced to undergo. Just one more turned into three more and just a pin and a rod turned into a complete reconstruction and more down time. Looks like you won’t be teaching me how to surf any time soon.”

  I blink at him in surprise. “First of all… you were serious about learning how to surf?”

  He nods, a twisted grin splitting his face. “Who jokes about surfing? Isn’t that sacrilege?”

  Shrugging, I motion up to the granite that encases the oldest Roman cathedral in the United States. “And yet, I’m standing in front of the House of God where this time last year, I was slipping in and out of the crowd lifting wallets out of the pockets of parishioners. I’m not the best judge of sacrilege…”

  Dante gives me a curt nod and nudges me in the ribs with his elbow. “Relax, Emily. Nobody here is going to judge you tonight. I get that it’s a little overwhelming. We don’t attend nearly as often as we should. In fact, we really only attend Midnight Mass. People tend to get a little antsy when the mob starts showing up on the regular. They don’t mind us on a night like tonight, though we still make them nervous…”

  I smile and hug him gently, wincing when a hard object digs into my ribs. I glance up at him and cock one eyebrow. “You brought heat to a church? Isn’t it a gun-free zone?”

  Dante shrugs casually. “Technically, yes. But let’s just say we have a little agreement with the archdioceses. They may not be particularly fond of the fact that we are armed, but they allow it in exchange for our protection. At any given time, a dozen of our men guard the cathedral. You may have targeted the parishioners outside, but there are criminals in this city who would give their left nut to get a hold of the offerings a place like this takes in. Especially on a night like tonight. Barresi men may be crooked, but we at least have SOME morals… SOME things are still sacred…”

  I press my hand against the cold steel that sticks up out of his waistband and raise one eyebrow. “One…” I kick his boot and nod when I hear a faint clink. “Two… and if you’re anything like your brother…” Reaching my hand around him, I slide it across his lower back, smirking with I feel his backup weapon. “...you always have a backup...or two…”

  Greedy hands slide around my waist from behind as Luca laughs. “Feeling up my brother already?” I roll my eyes at Dante, then turn around to face Luca. “I’d be happy to stick my hands somewhere else if you’d rather…” Luca shudders slightly, but he plays it off like the wind is cutting through his defenses. “Brrr… that breeze is arctic. Maybe we should go inside before I do something God won’t approve of… forgive my thoughts, Father…”

  I glance behind Luca before I realize that he isn’t speaking to Matteo, who’s standing a hundred feet behind us. I watch Luca with fascination as he drags his hands in the motion of the cross and mutters something under his breath. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and produces a beaded cross that he lifts to his lips and kisses quickly before stuffing it back away into the safety of the pocket.

  Stunned, I chew on my bottom lip as he leads me through the immaculate gardens and into the entryway of the ornate church. Lowering my voice, I whisper, “Was that a rosary?”

  Luca glances down at me and nods, redness creeping up his cheeks. “I never said I was a good Catholic, but I am a Catholic. When you’re in my line of work, things can get a little convoluted when it comes to religion. I know God doesn’t approve of what I do, but without us, New Orleans would be overrun by…”

  I interrupt him before he can finish his thought, “...the likes of me? And Andre?”

  Luca stops in the middle of the aisle and stares down at me in surprise. He shakes his head vigorously, “Don’t even put yourself in the same category as that sorry excuse for a man. He raped a fifteen-year-old girl repeatedly because she had no other options. You may not have had a choice, Emily, but he did… he was vile and he deserved to be put down like the animal that he was. I swear it now, with God as my witness, that if the only thing I accomplished by damning my soul was to free yours, then it was a sacrifice I would make over and over again.”

  My cheeks flame as I realize that there are parishioners stopped in the aisle behind us, unable to enter the cathedral. I don’t know if they heard everything Luca said, but the mortified expressions on their faces suggest they heard enough. Luca gently ushers me into the back pew of the sanctuary and slides in beside me.

  Before long, the sanctuary is buzzing with thousands of murmuring voices and the pew on the other side of Luca has filled with a dozen people crammed onto the elegantly carved wooden bench.

  As time wears closer to midnight, a soft prelude emanates from every surface inside of the sanctuary. Its gentle lull draws me to my inner nature to people-watch. The buzzing of excited voices in the crowd clash with the delicate notes of the sweet melody.

  Though I’ve never been inside this or any church before, the sheer beauty and attention to detail put my frazzled nerves at ease. Dark wood stands in stark contrast to the soaring painted ceilings and demure blue carpet surrounding the altar. A dozen fifteen foot Christmas trees and brass chandeliers hanging every few feet create an ambience of peace in the cavernous space that is crammed with hundreds of warm bodies.

  Sprinkled throughout the parishioners every few feet are men that I instantly recognize. Their posture is stiff as they lean against the walls of the sanctuary, their eyes watching the crowd in silence as the music swells around them. I nudge Luca gently and when he leans down over me, I ask softly, “How many men do you have here tonight?’

  Luca shrugs as he closes his eyes. He then replies softly, “Nineteen associates from my personal guard and another three dozen hired on my dime.” I blink at him in surprise and nod my head around the sanctuary. “You have nineteen men in your personal guard?”

  He smiles and kisses the top of my head. “Yes.”

  I stare at him with an expectant look on my face, but he doesn’t offer any further explanation. I guess that’s another thing to add to my ever-growing list of serious questions I need to discuss with the man. What kind of enemies does one have to have before you need a persona
l guard that size? I don’t know if the president of the United States even has a personal guard that big.

  He turns to face the front as the angelic sounds of a children’s choir echo through the sanctuary, but anyone with eyes can tell that his aren’t focused on the bounty of poinsettias decorating the altar. He claims my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine as a heavenly voice rises above the rest in a soul-shattering rendition of ‘Come All Ye Faithful’ that rattles me to my core.

  I’m not Catholic, nor faithful by any stretch of the imagination, but something about the ethereal service moves me and by the time the priest calls for the parishioners to gather for the Holy Communion, I’m brought to tears that cascade slowly down my cheeks. Luca smiles at me softly, but makes no movement toward the front of the church where the herd of people dressed in finery are moving.

  He turns to an elegant brunette woman at his side and bows his head in reverence to her, then steps aside so that she can slip past him. He squeezes my hand softly as the woman pauses in front of me, her kohl rimmed eyes appraising me in silence.