by Nikki Ash
One week later…
“My favorite part of Disney was seeing all of the princesses!” Georgia gushes.
“Oh! Me too! Me too!” Lexi agrees. “When we get home, can we paint my room like the princesses?”
“Sure, Lex. I told you, you can pick what you want,” I say.
“Me too?” Georgia asks.
“Yep! You too.”
“When you said we could go to Disney and on a Disney cruise, I thought you were joking,” Charlie says as we board the ship. “This has already been the best week of Georgia’s and my life. You didn’t have to book a cruise as well. This is too much.”
“Shh…no more saying anything is too much. Disney parks and a cruise is what you wanted, and it’s what you get.” I stop and kiss her on her lips.
“And what do you get? I feel so bad that you’re stuck with three girls and surrounded by Disney.”
I look at Charlie incredulously. She has no idea… “Babe, being here with my three girls is all I need. I don’t care where we are or what we’re doing. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Plus…” I lean in close to her to whisper in her ear. “You thanking me every night is the best wedding gift a man could get.” I waggle my eyebrows and she giggles.
My phone dings with a text from Emma, and I read it twice over to make sure I read it right. Then I click on my social media app and do a search. When I see it for myself, I’m shocked. I rarely go on social media except to post upcoming fights and to advertise the gym. There’s no way this is real. When he was named Bachelor of the year two years ago, the paparazzi would always spot him with a new woman and make a big deal out of it. Now, it’s hardly news that the famous UFC fighter, Mason Street, will probably never settle down. They rarely post about him anymore. Mason is good about keeping out of trouble, and since he doesn’t ever do anything news worthy, they usually leave him alone.
“Tristan?” Charlie says my name and then looks over my shoulder before I can close the app. “Oh my god! Does that say Mason and Mila are married?” she screeches. “That has to be wrong. That better be wrong! Tristan… It is wrong, right?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll find out. Until I do, please don’t say anything to anyone.”
“I need to call Mila! How could Mason do this to her? How could he hurt her like this? You said she was safe. You said he wouldn’t touch her because she’s a mom. She’s my best friend, Tristan!”
Charlie pulls her phone out of her pocket, and before she can call or text Mila, I snatch it out of her hands.
“Hey!”
“Let me talk to Mason, first, please.”
“Fine,” she huffs, “but he better have a damn good explanation for this. I love him, Tristan, but if he hurt Mila, I’ll kill him.”
Curious to know whether Mason and Mila really got married?
Find out in Takedown: A Fighting Love novel.
Coming July 28th 2018.
*Keep reading to view an excerpt from Takedown!*
To see exclusive teasers and excerpts, please join Nikki Ash’s Fight club!
Excerpt from Bordello: a mob romance
One
Giovanni
“Listen Don, you and my father go way back, so if this girl has the balls to show up here and ask for the loan, I’m going to give it to her. But I just had Johnny look her up and she isn’t worth shit. You know I don’t normally deal with people like this.”
I’m sitting at my desk in my office checking my watch for the time… again. I’ve got too much shit to handle today and dealing with a little girl who needs money to pay off her overdue credit card bills isn’t my top priority, that’s for damn sure.
“I understand, Giovanni. Like I said, I’m calling in a personal favor. This girl, Ashley, she’s a tough cookie, but she just can’t seem to catch a break. Single mom, working at my strip joint to make ends meet. She isn’t like the usual women. She doesn’t do drugs. She’s got her head screwed on right. She wouldn’t be asking for thirty grand unless she’s desperate for it.”
Don is the owner of Double D’s strip club here in Las Vegas. For many years, Don and my father have done business together. Our family owns the club but we are what you call silent partners. My father has been using the club to launder money for years. I, on the other hand, have more productive ways to do business.
“You know the chance of me getting this money back from her are slim, right? Which means you will be paying me back if she can’t.” Don knows I don’t lend money to people who have nothing to lose.
“I told her if she can’t pay you back, she would have to work for you.” I laugh at that. There’s no way I’m forcing some woman to work at my club. The reason it runs so smoothly is because the women who work here choose to be here.
“You know that’s not happening.”
Don sighs. “I know but I’m hoping she’ll be scared enough that she’ll pay you back. She’s responsible. She’s just going through a tough time.”
There’s a knock on my door, and Johnny—my right-hand man—enters. “Boss, there’s an Ashley Myers here to see you. Edgardo asked me to see what she wants but she only wants to speak to you. Are you expecting her?”
Edgardo is one of my bouncers here at the club. His job is to keep an eye on who’s coming and going, and to make sure shit stays on the up and up. When you’re in the business I’m in, it’s easy for shit to go bad quick. The key is to always be one step ahead.
“Send her back here.” Johnny nods once and heads back out, closing the door behind him. “Listen Don, apparently, your girl has some brass fucking balls because she just got here.”
“Thank you, Giovanni. Like I said, I owe you one.”
“Yeah, you do.” And I always fucking collect. I hang up the phone and wait for Johnny to walk this girl back to my office so I can handle this before I leave to meet my mom for lunch. I check my cell for any messages and notice one from Cecilia.
Cecilia: Senator Hightower hurt Natalie. Can you please come here asap?
Me: Is Rome holding him?
Cecilia: Yes
Me: Be there in twenty minutes. Do we need to call Dr. Fox?
Cecilia: Already did…. It’s not good.
Jesus fucking Christ! This isn’t the first time the Senator has put his hands on one of my girls. I gave him a second chance because of his affluence in the community, but it won’t be happening again—not at my damn club. I look down at my watch and make a mental note to let my mom know I won’t be making it to lunch today.
There’s a knock at my door, and Johnny enters. “Boss, Ashley Myers.”
“Thank you. You can close the door behind you.”
He exits, leaving a pretty brunette with a banging fucking body, and my first thought is she would make a fabulous addition to the women here. While she is probably almost thirty years old, she screams innocence and maturity in her royal blue wrap around dress. Don was right; she isn’t your typical stripper. She hasn’t been in this life long enough for it to corrupt her, but it will. It always does.
I stand to greet her. As I am assessing her, I notice she is doing the same to me. Her eyes are telling. She is trying to figure out if she can trust me, which is ironic since I’m the one lending her the money. Her eyes roam over my face then move down to my chest. While I start my day in a three-piece suit, as the morning progresses, articles of clothing tend to get shed, piece by piece. My jacket is thrown over the back of my chair, my tie undone with the top buttons of my shirt unbuttoned.
Her eyes stop at the tattoo that is peeking out of my shirt. It’s a saying in Italian. Dalla nascita. Per sangue. Famiglia. By birth. By blood. Family.
My grandfather, my father, and my brothers all have the same tattoo. We were taken to get the ink done the day we turned eighteen when we were officially brought into the organization. The moment she realizes I am watching her check me out she blushes an adorable pink. The men that frequent this place would eat her alive.
I motion for her to have a seat, then I sit down as
well. “How may I help you?” My tone comes across as let’s get straight to the damn point instead of polite and she looks down at her hands for a moment, taken back by my bluntness. Maybe she was hoping I’d offer her some coffee and pastries. As cute as she is, I don’t have time to fuck around. I have a girl who has been hurt and a Senator who is going to pay for hurting her.
Ashley looks up at me, her shoulders square, back straight. “I need a loan for thirty thousand dollars and I was told by Don you could help me.” I gotta give this girl credit. She is holding her own.
“Hmm… Did he now. Did he tell you what I accept for collateral?” I hold back my smirk because really, I’m just fucking with this woman but she doesn’t need to know that. She doesn’t own shit other than a house that will more than likely be foreclosed on in a few months, which is why Don threatened her with working for me, hoping it will motivate her to pay me back.
“Yes, women,” she chokes out, and I have immediately gained respect for her. You can see it written all over her face she is scared shitless, yet she is still here, with her chin up, asking for a loan knowing if she can’t pay me back she will be working as an escort here at my bordello, La Stella Gentleman’s Club. Stella was my nonna’s name, which translates to Star. When my father came over here from Italy and opened the bordello forty years ago, he named it after his mother—my grandmother—who died in a shooting shortly after my father was born.
“So, you understand if at any time, you can’t pay me back the set monthly payment you will be required to work it off here at my gentleman’s club?”
“Yes, I do.” Her voice wavers but she keeps her chin up.
I have Johnny run a more thorough background check on her, and once she checks out, I lend her the money. She argues about the interest rate, and for a second I almost feel bad because I can practically guarantee this woman won’t be able to make these payments, but at the end of the day that’s not my fucking problem. My job is to bring in the money, not give it away. Twenty percent interest is considered low with the people I deal with but no matter how confident this woman is, she’s playing a game she has no business being a part of. What she doesn’t know is that by Don vouching for her, if she doesn’t pay up, he will end up taking over her loan. Once she has the money in her hands, I have Johnny see her out.
More than likely I will see her again when I’m forced to go after her for the money she owes me until I know she has nothing left to give. Will I actually drag her here to work for me? Hell no. I prefer all my woman to come willingly, but if she knows that, she won’t even bother attempting to pay me back. More than likely she will lose her house then she will sell her car, and then she will rack up whatever credit cards she has. After she’s gone down all those avenues she will borrow money from her family or a close friend, and once she’s out of options and she has hit rock bottom—because they always do—Don will have to take over. Either way, I’ll be getting my money back with interest. Because unlike Ashley, who has no idea what she got herself into, Don knows I don’t fuck around. I have a reputation to protect, and in the business and family I’m in, your reputation is all you have.
I am Giovanni Valentino and my family runs one of the most powerful crime organizations in Italy as well as Nevada, and I run one of the most exclusive brothels in the United States. I am also one of the biggest loan sharks on the West Coast.
My grandfather, Joe Valentino, is now retired and lives in Italy with my younger brother, Mario, who runs a hotel and restaurant over there. My other brother, Nico, runs the hotels and casinos here in Las Vegas while my father and his adopted brother Stefan, who is Cecilia’s dad, deal with the underground aspects of the business, which includes the illegal gambling as well as the exporting and importing of various contraband such as pharmaceuticals, alcohol, and tobacco. We knew from an early age our grandfather and father were powerful men. This life we live is not for the weak.
My brothers and I are spaced out two years apart. Me, the eldest at thirty-two years old, Mario at thirty, and Nico is the youngest at twenty-eight. Our poor mother had her hands full raising three boys growing up in the organization while trying to be the perfect mob boss’s wife, but she knew from the beginning what she was getting herself into. She was working in one of the bordellos my father owned in Italy before he sold them and moved here. According to her, he saved her life and in return, she keeps her ears covered, eyes closed, and cheek turned pretending my father is the perfect husband. When the truth is, while he might be the perfect boss and businessman, he is a horrible fucking husband by normal standards. I don’t doubt he loves my mother in his own fucked up way, but he has no idea how to be faithful to save his life, and she chooses to let it all go and accept him the way he is because he makes sure she is taken care of the only way he knows how.
My mother wants for nothing when it comes to materialistic possessions. Anything she could ever need or want is at her fingertips. She belongs to country clubs and takes vacations whenever she wants to. But it’s all given to make up for the fact that my father’s only true loyalty is to the Valentino organization. While she is busy being the perfect wife at their home in Summerlin, a community in between the bordello and Vegas, he is out running the organization and getting his dick wet all over Vegas. Her life is put at risk every day and everywhere she goes, she is accompanied by body guards—we all are. It’s always been our way of life and I don’t know any other way.
Which is why I made the decision early on to never get married. My mom claims I’m being dramatic. She says I’m still young and will change my mind one day, but when I see the emptiness in her eyes she’s in denial of, I know I am making the right decision. I could never do that to someone. The people we bring into our lives are always at risk. My grandmother was shot going to the corner market in Italy by another organization. My mother has been in life threatening situations too many times to count. I would never want someone I love to be in harm’s way for choosing to be with me. Just because it’s the life I was born into doesn’t mean I am going to willingly bring someone else into this life.
Besides, why would I want to settle on one piece of ass forever when I can have any woman I want, any time I want. Who the fuck wants to eat the same food every day? It’s human nature to want variety. My dad chose to get married so he could have a family, but instead of spending his life being the man my mom deserves, he’s spent their entire marriage cheating on her. I’d rather stay single and not have to remain faithful to any one woman or be responsible for her wellbeing. I’ll leave it up to my brothers to pass down the Valentino name.
I grab my jacket from the back of my chair, throw it on, and head to the holding cell to deal with the senator. Caesar—one of my bodyguards—joins me on my way down the hallway. “I saw her, Boss. She’s pretty fucked up.” My fists tighten at my sides as I stalk toward the holding cell. I’m going to kill this motherfucker.
It’s as if he reads my mind. “Boss, you know you can’t kill him.” Caesar grabs a hold of my shoulder, pulling me back before I open the door.
“What the fuck do you mean I can’t kill him?” I’ll be damned if this piece-of-shit lives to hurt another fucking woman.
“This shit needs to be handled properly. He’s the senator and running for reelection, and he owes you a shit ton of money.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the money!”
“You make him disappear and questions will be raised. You don’t want that attention, especially while you are in the middle of negotiations with the Lorenzo family.” He’s right about that shit. I have enough cops in my pocket to make shit go away if need be, but I would be pushing my luck if shit goes down with the Lorenzo’s. We are in the middle of renegotiating the terms of our agreement and they aren’t exactly known for compromising.
I swing the door open to find Rome—another one of my enforcer’s—standing over Senator Weston Hightower. Weston’s fists are raised and bound together with a steel chain that’s hooked in the ceiling. The e
ntire room is empty and concrete. For a man in his late fifties, he’s in decent shape. Gray hair trimmed neatly, probably from the stress of trying to keep control of a state which can’t be controlled. He’s shirtless and there’s several nail markings covering his chest.
“I heard you hurt one of my girls tonight, Hightower.” I get in his face, looking him right into his frightful eyes.
“I- I didn’t mean to…” He stutters over his words, terrified. Bet he wasn’t fucking stuttering when he was hurting Natalie. It’s so easy for a man to exude his power and strength over a woman, but just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.
“Didn’t mean to do what, exactly?” Placing my hand on his throat, I squeeze his jugular just enough so that it cuts off his airflow.
“Hurt her.” His voice is raspy from the lack of oxygen and that has me grinning on the inside.
“Rome, what exactly did the senator do to my girl?” I squeeze his throat tighter causing his face to turn a light shade of red. Most people don’t know this but it takes more than a good squeeze to kill someone. It takes several minutes of completely cutting off their oxygen before the body gives up and the heart stops pumping.
“He choked her with his belt, Boss.” I look down at his pants and see the belt is missing.
“And?”
“A gun, Sir.”
My head whips around to Rome, keeping my hand around the senator’s throat. “What the fuck do you mean, a gun? Did he shoot her?” I take my gun out from the back of my waistband and point it directly at Weston’s forehead while choking him harder. His chest is moving up and down faster than before, his heart working overtime to keep him alive since he is lacking the oxygen needed to breathe properly.
“No. He shoved it inside of her and it tore her up, Boss. The doctor is checking her out now for internal bleeding.” I warned this motherfucker about doing this shit here at my club. The last time he used a champagne bottle to fuck her with. Tore her pussy and ass up. I gave him a second chance because Natalie asked me to, swore she agreed but things escalated too quickly and he couldn’t control himself. I call bullshit because I don’t give a fuck how in the moment you are, you can always control yourself. I’m almost certain Natalie has unhealthy feelings for the senator but this shit stops now. Her safety comes first.
