MOB BOSS 6:
THE HEART OF RENO GABRINI
By
MALLORY MONROE
Copyright©2013 Mallory Monroe
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This novel is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are completely accidental. The specific mention of known places or venues are not meant to be exact replicas of those places, but are purposely embellished or imagined for the story’s sake.
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MORE INTERRACIAL ROMANCE
FROM BESTSELLING AUTHOR
MALLORY MONROE:
THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND
SERIES IN ORDER:
THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND
THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND 2:
HIS WOMEN AND HIS WIFE
DUTCH AND GINA:
A SCANDAL IS BORN
DUTCH AND GINA:
AFTER THE FALL
DUTCH AND GINA:
THE POWER OF LOVE
DUTCH AND GINA:
THE SINS OF THE FATHERS
DUTCH AND GINA:
WHAT HE DID FOR LOVE
THE MOB BOSS SERIES
IN ORDER:
ROMANCING THE MOB BOSS
MOB BOSS 2:
THE HEART OF THE MATTER
MOB BOSS 3:
LOVE AND RETRIBUTION
MOB BOSS 4:
ROMANCING TRINA GABRINI
A MOB BOSS CHRISTMAS:
THE PREGNANCY
(Mob Boss 5)
THE GABRINI MEN SERIES
IN ORDER:
ROMANCING TOMMY GABRINI
ADDITIONAL BESTSELLING
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FROM MALLORY MONROE:
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ROMANCING HER PROTECTOR
ROMANCING THE BULLDOG
IF YOU WANTED THE MOON
AND
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LOVING HER SOUL MATE
LOVING THE HEAD MAN
SOME CAME DESPERATE:
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INTERRACIAL ROMANCE:
A SPECIAL RELATIONSHIP
YVONNE THOMAS
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BACK TO HONOR:
A REGGIE REYNOLDS
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JT WATSON
ROMANTIC FICTION
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TERESA MCCLAIN-WATSON:
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PROLOGUE
Fourteen Years Earlier
He cupped his hand around another cold glass of beer and stared at the woman in the big red hat. He was in the Clover, a lounge inside the PaLargio Hotel and Casino on the Vegas Strip, and was just about to pass the point of one too many when his curiosity got the best of him.
“Hey, Dirty,” he yelled to the busy bartender on the opposite end of the bar. “Dirty! Get over here.”
Ritchie Marcasi, better known as Dirty, looked at the customer and could not suppress his irritation. He would have told any other drunk to take a hike for bugging him like that. But because Bruno Lucci was a drunk with the kind of connections that could get him fired, he excused himself from another customer on the other end of the bar, and made his way to Bruno.
“What’s up, Brew?” Dirty asked. He was young, barely twenty-two, and spoke with a heavy Jersey accent.
Bruno looked at Dirty. He didn’t like his cockiness. “You took your pretty time getting here.”
“What are you talking? I came as soon as you called.”
“Who’s the broad?” Bruno asked him.
“What broad?”
“Over there.”
There had to be a hundred broads in the lounge, and Dirty wanted to tell him so. But he continued to look around anyway. “Over where?” he asked as he looked.
“Over there.”
“Over where?”
“Over there you dick! The old lady Reno’s talking to. The one in the red hat. Who is she?”
Dirty looked at the table on the far side of the room. Reno Gabrini, the handsome young general manager of the PaLargio, was having drinks with an older woman.
“That’s Miss E,” Dirty said when he was able to finally see who Bruno was talking about. “That’s the owner.”
Bruno looked at Dirty. “The owner? Get the fuck outta here! I thought Tony Tufarna owned the PaLargio.”
“Tony don’t own shit. He runs the place, yeah. But between you and me and that glass of beer you’re drinking, Reno’s doing most of the running. Miss E’s Tony’s mother.”
“You have got to be shitting me,” Bruno said with a laugh. “Wait till I needle Tony about this! All that big talking he’s always doing every time we hang out. All about his precious Pa-Lar-gi-o. And that’s how he pronounces it. Real slow. The Pa-Lar-gi-o don’t you know. And it’s not even his. It’s his mama’s joint!”
“His mama’s the one who hired Reno,” Dirty said. “They’re pretty tight from what I see whenever she comes to town. But Tony, he don’t like it. He thinks Reno’s trying to muscle in and marry his mama so he can own this joint himself one day. That’s how stupid he is. Reno’s got all these beautiful women eating out of his hands, what he want with that old broad? But you can’t tell Tony nothing.”
Bruno looked across the bar at Tony Tufarna. Tony was a big, stocky guy in his early thirties with a receding hairline already. He was sitting at a table with two of the PaLargio’s showgirls. Although the girls were running their mouths in what seemed to Bruno to be a mile a minute, Tony didn’t appear to be listening to a word they had to say. He was too busy staring daggers at Reno and Miss E.
“Look at Tone,” Bruno said with a smile, and Dirty looked too. “If looks could kill Reno would be dead. And all this time I thought that asshole owned this joint. All this time I thought he was the top dog.”
“He is the top dog,” Dirty corrected Bruno. “I told you he runs the place, he just don’t own it. At least not yet.” Then Dirty glanced at his previous customer, who was getting up to leave. “Ah, shit,” he said angrily, upset with himself for forgetting the customer. That was why he left Bruno’s side and hurried back before the customer, and his potential tip, got away.
Bruno drank from his glass of beer and stared, once again, at the woman in the red hat. He knew she was something special. Not because he wanted her or anything like that, but he could tell she was quality. And she wasn’t bad looking for an old broad either, he thought. Not bad at all.
Reno was certainly acting like he was smitten with her. But Bruno was no fool. He knew that slick bastard Reno Gabrini. The only thing Reno was smitten with in that old lady was her power. It was never about money with Reno, it was never about love either. But it was always a
bout power. Always. The ruthless sonafabitch.
Bruno didn’t like Reno. He didn’t like when he came to town some six years earlier as this hotshot kid the Dons around here treated like a king. All because he was Paulo Gabrini’s son and Paulo practically ran the East Coast Mafia. They all wanted to stay in good with Reno just in case he had designs on running the West Coast. And wise guys like Bruno took the brunt of Reno’s popularity. Wise guys like Bruno who were trying to move up the chain of command, kept getting compared to Reno. The kid hadn’t done shit for the Families, other than to tell them to kiss his ass a time or two, but they still kowtowed to the motherfucker like he was Paulo himself. And Bruno didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.
That was why, when Reno and Miss E finished their drinks and began to leave the lounge together, Bruno left the bar. He walked over to Tony Tufarna. He smiled at how Tony was dripping with contempt as he watched his mother leave with Reno on her arm. She didn’t look back to say goodbye to her own son. She just left. And Bruno walked over, sat in the empty chair in front of Tony and the two showgirls, and did what he did best in this life. He instigated.
Dominic Gabrini, better known as Reno, was on his back watching as Miss E eased her pussy down on his fully erect dick, and rode him hard. The lips of her vagina rode up and down in a slow motion glide as his enormous size, and the pain that size generated, always forced her to take it slow at first. He lovingly rubbed her long, blonde hair as it kept dropping into her face. He massaged her beautiful white breasts as they bounced with every glide of her slender, toned body. Her big brown eyes were lust-filled as they stared down at his big blue eyes. They had a connection. They always did.
She was a woman of a particular age, she was pushing fifty-five, but she was sensual as hell. And Reno loved her. The fact that she was nearly half his age didn’t mean shit to him. Her money and her position and her power didn’t mean shit to him. He loved Elena. He wasn’t in love with her, and she wasn’t in love with him. That wasn’t what they were about. But they loved each other with an abiding love.
She had a reputation for being hard, especially on her only child Tony, but she was so vulnerable, Reno thought as he continued to watch her close her eyes and lift up and slowly down on top of him. She often left her home in Philly and came to Vegas to cry in his arms whenever yet another one of her gold-digging boyfriends broke her heart. And this time was no exception.
She came to him because she felt she could trust him. She felt she could trust him because of the way he rebuffed her advances when they first met at a party some three years earlier. He was one of the best looking young hot shots she’d seen in a while, and she immediately wanted him in her bed. The way he was built, and the swag he carried, she knew he had to be packing something special.
She ordered her people to bring him to her. Bring the boy to me, she said in that throaty voice of hers. And they did. They brought the gorgeous young man with the sterling blue eyes up to her suite. When Reno realized why he was called to her suite at all, he was so offended he was seething.
“What the fuck you think I am?” he asked her as if he didn’t care who she was. “You think I’m some punk-ass boy toy you can buy and sell? Is that what you think? Is that it? You can kiss my ass if that’s what you think!”
And Elena Tufarna, better known as Miss E, was a Reno fan ever since.
It would be nearly two years, after she hired him as her general manager, before they would sleep together. And even then it was because of a heart break she’d experienced that was so wrenching for her that Reno himself decided to make her feel better.
Whenever that need rose again, Reno became her tonic. They developed that kind of understanding. They felt they had that kind of bond. They honored an unspoken agreement that any time life whipped her too hard, she could come to Reno and he would make her feel better. Only for a night. But he would make her feel better.
She felt every inch of his rod right now as her cunt continued to take him in, and she continued to slide down the length of him in a slow, sensual glide. She kept it this way, slow and easy, until she was able to take him in full. As soon as she did, as soon as she felt the impact of that fullness, she smiled that smile that warmed Reno’s heart.
And then he took over.
He moved her onto her back and gave her the pleasure she often came a thousand miles to experience. It was all in Reno’s stroke. It was all in the way he knew how to move his penis inside of her at just the right angle that heightened her sensuality. It felt as if he was hitting her spot every time he moved. Yet he was also able to ease up just when she was about to cum, so that she would be able to endure longer. Then he’d continue to stroke, hitting her spot over and over again, until she was near cum again. She never had sex like this before. She dated men more than twice Reno’s age. Men her age. But Reno upstaged them all. The way this young man controlled his body, and by extension controlled her body, was a stunning experience every time she experienced it. He always managed to surprise her in bed when nothing, she thought, would ever surprise her again.
She always cried his name when she came. And tonight was no exception. Reno grabbed her tightly as his muscular body arched his dick upward and thrashed into her as she felt the final throes of her cum. And then he came. His cum was never as intense or deeply felt as her cum, but he came.
She looked at him with tears in her eyes after they both were poured out. He placed his hand on the wrinkles she wasn’t trying to conceal on the side of her face. He pulled her face down to his face and kissed her long and hard. She was rich and beautiful and had half the scoundrels in this country chasing her, but she was lonely as hell.
Reno hugged her tightly as she cried in his arms.
Two months later she was dead. It devastated Reno when Tony told him the news. He was in his office at the PaLargio, working the phones when some superstar decided to be a no-show for that night’s performance, when Tony walked in.
“The old lady’s dead,” he said.
Reno was dialing his desk phone in an attempt to call the diva directly. “What old lady?” he asked.
“What old lady you think?” Tony replied in that spoiled, snarky way of his. “The one you’ve been humping for years. My mother.”
Reno stared at him. Tony, in a lot of ways, was a buffoon to Reno who couldn’t make it on his own if his life depended on it. But he never thought of him as heartless. “Your mother?” he asked as he hung back up the phone. And then he jumped to his feet.
“Elena’s dead?”
“She’s dead.”
“But how?”
“A fiery car crash. They say the car flipped something like five times. Her driver took the piss too. It was probably a sight to see.” Tony said this as if he was giving the highlights of last night’s football game. Then he bragged that Reno’s scheme didn’t work.
“I guess you won’t be marrying her now, stud,” Tony said with a grin. “You won’t get a dime of my mother’s money now. Not one red cent! All of that wining and dining netted you nothing. A big fat zero. I own the PaLargio now. Every inch of it is mine. You worked so hard to win her heart, and you failed. You failed, Reno. The bitch is dead and you failed. The way I see it, both of you got exactly what you deserved!”
As soon as Tony said those words, Reno saw red. He lunged across his desk and socked the shit out of Tony. Tony flipped over and began crawling backwards on his ass as Reno hurried from behind his desk to finish the job.
“What are you doing?” Tony was yelling as he butt-crawled. “Are you out of your mind? You can’t hit me!”
He said this just as Reno grabbed him by the catch of his collar, slung him to his feet, and began beating him back down with his fists.
“You’re fired!” Tony was yelling as the blood began to gush from his nose. “You’re gonna lose everything, you crazy motherfucker! You’re gonna lose everything!”
But Reno kept beating him down. No way was this asshole going to say those ter
rible things about a wonderful lady like Miss E and get away with it. No way. She was a sweet lady, and she was dead? She was gone? And this prick was calling her names and denigrating her legacy? Yes, Reno knew he would lose a job he loved. Yes, he would no longer be welcomed in the place he helped build. But right was right and wrong was wrong. And this cocksucker, in Reno’s eyes, had to be corrected.
After the correction, Reno left. Nobody had to tell him to leave. He left. He knew the PaLargio would turn into a disaster in the hands of Tony Tufarna, but he left that day without looking back. He knew Tony too well. He knew the fall would come and it would come fast. And he had to have his act together when it did.
It would take three years, but the day did come. The PaLargio, thanks to the undisciplined stewardship of Tony Tufarna, eventually plunged into receivership. Tony himself, in the span of those three years, had lost every dime his mother had left to him. It took a lifetime of blood, sweat and tears for her to build up what her only child destroyed in just three years.
And when the courts finally ordered the sale of the PaLargio, Reno Gabrini, with the financial backing of a handful of wealthy supporters, outbid all other comers and took controlling interest. He would later pay off every one of his backers, and take over full control of the hotel and casino he loved.
Tony Tufarna dropped off of Reno’s radar as if he had dropped off the face of this earth.
CHAPTER ONE
Fourteen Years Later
MOB BOSS 6: THE HEART OF RENO GABRINI (Mob Boss Series) Page 1
