MICK SINATRA
FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE
BOOK ONE
By
MALLORY MONROE
Copyright©2015 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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INTERRACIAL ROMANCE SERIES
BY BESTSELLING AUTHOR
MALLORY MONROE:
THE SINATRAS OF JERICHO COUNTY
SERIES IN ORDER:
BIG DADDY SINATRA
THERE WAS A RUTHLESS MAN
BOOK ONE
BIG DADDY SINATRA 2
IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU
BOOK TWO
BIG DADDY SINATRA 3
THE BEST OF MY LOVE
BRENT SINATRA
ALL OF ME
BOOK ONE
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
FOR THE LOVE OF GINA
BOOK EIGHT
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)
MOB BOSS 6:
THE HEART OF RENO GABRINI
RENO’S GIFT
BOOK 7
RENO GABRINI:
A MAN IN FULL
BOOK 8
RENO AND TRINA:
GETTING BACK TO LOVE
BOOK 9
RENO AND SON:
DON’T MESS WITH JIM
BOOK 10
MOB BOSS ELEVEN
THE WRONG ONE
BOOK 11
RENO AND TRINA
IN THE SHADOWS OF LOVE
BOOK 12
THE GABRINI MEN SERIES
IN ORDER:
ROMANCING TOMMY GABRINI
ROMANCING SAL GABRINI
TOMMY GABRINI 2:
A PLACE IN HIS HEART
SAL GABRINI 2:
A WOMAN’S TOUCH
TOMMY GABRINI 3:
GRACE UNDER FIRE
SAL GABRINI 3:
HARD LOVE
SAL GABRINI 4:
I’LL TAKE YOU THERE
TOMMY GABRINI 4:
DAPPER TOM BEGIN AGAIN
SAL GABRINI 5:
UNTIL YOU COME BACK TO ME
ADDITIONAL BESTSELLING
INTERRACIAL ROMANCE
FROM MALLORY MONROE:
DANIEL’S GIRL (ROMANCING AN OLDER MAN)
ROMANCING MO RYAN
ROMANCING HER PROTECTOR
ROMANCING THE BULLDOG
INTERRACIAL ROMANCE
FROM
BESTSELLING AUTHOR
KATHERINE CACHITORIE:
LOVERS AND TAKERS
LOVING HER SOUL MATE
LOVING THE HEAD MAN
SOME CAME DESPERATE:
A LOVE SAGA
ADDITIONAL BESTSELLING
INTERRACIAL ROMANCE:
A SPECIAL RELATIONSHIP
YVONNE THOMAS
AND
BACK TO HONOR:
A REGGIE REYNOLDS
ROMANTIC MYSTERY
JT WATSON
ROMANTIC FICTION
FROM
AWARD-WINNING
AND
BESTSELLING AUTHOR
TERESA MCCLAIN-WATSON:
DINO AND NIKKI:
AFTER REDEMPTION
AND
AFTER WHAT YOU DID
Visit
www.mallorymonroebooks.com
for updates and more information on all of her titles.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
The Gulfstream 650 flew out of the clouds with a thunderous entry, and touched down and taxied until it came to a rolling stop. Across the airstrip tarmac, Danny Padrone was waiting. He stepped out of the front passenger side of the Cadillac limousine, and buttoned his suit coat. He was the muscle, the man who always met the plane, and today was no exception. Carissa Caine got out from behind the wheel and opened the driver’s side back passenger door. This was her first time working for the great man, but Danny had schooled her well. She was an experienced driver. She chauffeured rich guys all across Pennsylvania for nearly a decade. She was ready for this.
“So Danny?” She yelled across the hood of the limo when the noise of the jet quieted down. “You’re tight with him or what?” Danny ignored her. “Where you think he’s been all this time?”
She was on loan from Teddy Stefani’s crew, and had a solid reputation working for her. But she also had a mouth on her that Danny knew his boss was not going to appreciate. Teddy Stefani had no problem with it. Mick Sinatra didn’t play that.
“Say, Danny,” Carissa tried again, “where you think he’s been all this time?”
Danny looked at her with a disgusted look. “What are you asking me something like that for? How should I know where he’s been? He’s been on business, that’s where he’s been. And it’s none of your fucking business.”
Carissa didn’t allow anybody to talk to her that way. “It’s not serious like that though,” she responded.
But Danny couldn’t disagree more. “It is serious like that! It is serious. Now I’m telling you, Riss, this is not like those other jobs. Mick Sinatra will just as soon slit your throat than entertain your questions. Your job is to open that do
or and drive this vehicle. Leave everything else to me.”
“But what you’re saying makes no sense, Danny. You’re trying to tell me I can’t ask the man how his trip was, or how is he feeling?”
“None of that,” Danny said forcefully. “You can’t ask him none of that shit!” Then he frowned. “What’s with you, anyway? I told you this job is different!”
Carissa smiled. She couldn’t take Danny seriously even if she wanted to. She knew Mick “The Tick” Sinatra was the real deal from way back, but she was willing to bet any amount of money that even he wasn’t as dire a character as Danny made him out to be. Nobody was. As far as she was concerned Danny was just a nervous nelly and had been for as long as she knew him.
Then Danny quickly stood erect. “He’s coming,” he said, as he nervously smoothed down his windblown hair.
Carissa looked at Danny and shook her head. What a wuss, she thought. Then she looked toward the jet as a tall figure emerged from out of the cabin and stood at the top of the steps. She saw a dashing male in a flowing white ankle-length coat, a black turtleneck shirt and black trousers, his thick hair blowing in the wind, as he began descending the steps. She’d heard of Mick Sinatra, but this was her first time seeing him in person. “That him?” she asked.
Danny nodded. “That’s him.”
“Damn, Danny.” She was smiling. “I was expecting some decrepit old coot. You didn’t tell me he looked that good!”
Danny frowned and looked at his subordinate. “What do I look like telling you that for? Watch yourself, Riss.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Carissa said. “I know how to handle myself. I’ve been driving around rich mafia types all my career. I know what they like.”
But Danny was already shaking his head. “Not him. You don’t know shit about him. He ain’t those dirty old men you’re used to chauffeuring around. He ain’t Teddy Stefani. He don’t want shit from your body, and to him you’re just another pretty face. You open this door and then close it, and then get behind that wheel and drive. No conversation. No isn’t the weather lovely. None of that shit. You drive. You hear me, Riss?”
“I hear you. I’m sure he hears you too loud as you’re talking. I got it. He’s subhuman. Treat him that way. Got it.”
Danny said something more to her, but Carissa wasn’t listening. She was too busy checking out the man in black and white. He walked slowly, but he didn’t lumber along. He floated along, as if he was gliding, as if every stride he took became three steps in one. And when he arrived at the driver side passenger door, and Carissa saw those gorgeous green eyes, she jerked her long blonde hair back, smiled her high wattage smile, and did what she knew how to do.
“Welcome back, boss,” Danny said from the opposite side of the car.
Mick Sinatra didn’t respond. Which didn’t bother Danny. He was accustomed to it. But as Mick bent his tall body and began to climb into the backseat of his limousine, Carissa couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t accustomed to rudeness and was never going to be. “I’m Carissa Caine, Mr. Sinatra,” she said.
Danny stretched his eyes in amazement, stunned that she would go there. Mick stopped his progression into the vehicle, stood back up, and looked, not at Carissa, but at Danny.
“Mr. Stefani sent her over, sir. To keep it in the family. Deuce took ill and we needed a driver on short notice.”
“And that’s me,” Carissa said, undaunted. “Your new driver.”
Mick looked at her, but she had supreme confidence. She never drove for a guy she didn’t fuck, and this guy was not going to be any different. “I may look young, but I’ve got a wealth of experience. Driving experience, that is,” she added, with another smile and a coquettish jerk of her hair.
Mick Sinatra looked at her with such a chilling look that it made her want to take a step back. But she held her ground.
Mick held his too. “And I need this information why?”
She swallowed hard. The thought that he would just as soon slit her throat than answer her questions, as Danny had warned her, suddenly didn’t seem as implausible as she had assumed. “Since I’m a new face, sir, I thought you’d want to know who I am.”
“Daniel told me who you are.”
She swallowed again. “Why, yes, sir. Yes, he did. But I wanted to let you know also. I’m your driver for today.”
“Then shut the fuck up and drive,” Mick said bluntly, showing no compassion whatsoever. He stared at her a moment longer, attempting to decide if he should leave her where she stood. But Teddy wouldn’t send over anybody less than the best. He got into his limousine.
Carissa’s heart fell through her shoe. “Yes, sir,” she said, and closed the door.
As she stood there, still struck by that look she saw in his unfeeling eyes, Danny angrily motioned for her to get her ass behind the wheel. When she did so, he hurriedly got onto the front passenger seat beside her. And waited for their boss to pronounce his displeasure. But Mick didn’t say a word. Maybe because the car phone began ringing. Maybe because he didn’t give a fuck. Danny could never tell with Mick.
“Speak,” Danny said when he answered the phone.
Mick folded his legs and sat quietly in the backseat. Carissa glanced through the rearview mirror, looking at him, as he sat with such a peaceful demeanor it confused her. No fumbling with his smartphone. No flipping through papers. Nothing. He seemed perfectly content to enjoy the peace and quiet without interruption. Until Danny had no choice but to interrupt.
He hung up the car phone and pressed the intercom button quickly. “We’ve got trouble, boss.”
That pronouncement along caused Mick to look toward the front of his limousine. “And what might that be?”
“A hit.”
“Who?”
“Flo’s compound.”
Carissa, still looking through the rearview, saw a slight, but noticeable reaction on Mick’s face. Was this Flo his woman?
“How many fell?” Mick asked.
Danny turned his face toward the back of the limo. It was only then could Mick see the terror in his man’s eyes. “Everybody, sir,” Danny said.
Mick’s heart slammed against his chest. He pointed forward. “Go,” he ordered.
Danny looked at Carissa. “Drive,” he ordered, and Carissa proved why Teddy Stefani sent her over in the first place. She drove. She took direction from Danny and flew through the streets of Philadelphia as if she was driving a bat out of hell. She knew when to keep it fast and when to play it safe. She managed what should have been a twenty-five minute drive in less than fifteen.
Cars were everywhere outside of the secluded estate, and as the limo approached the broken down security gate, Mick could see the guards he employed lying dead in pools of their own blood. Other guards were there now, Mick’s men also, in case the attackers decided to return.
But despite the carnage outside, Carissa was experienced enough to know that the guards were not the concern. This Flo person and everybody else inside that house were. That was why she didn’t slow down. That was why she sped past the dead guards and the new guards and drove up to the front double doors of the expansive, secluded home.
Carissa knew to stay put, with the motor running, in case they required a fast getaway. Mick and Danny hurried out of the vehicle. Carissa was surprised to see that Mister Cool Sinatra already had his gun drawn, as if he didn’t rely on anybody else to do his fighting for him, as he made his way up the numerous steep steps that led to the front door.
Four of Mick’s men were waiting at the doors too, all fully armed with automatic weapons: his personal army of protection. One of them hurriedly flung open the double doors, and Mick walked in.
Mick was cautious as he and his men entered Flo Durant’s home. Nothing was amiss at first glance. Not even a vase was overturned. But Leo Barone, Mick’s senior security chief, stood at the top of the stairs.
“They’re up here, boss,” he said.
But Mick ignored him. He, instead, began wal
king around the great room downstairs with a calmness his men could not share. They were ready to run, to turn this place upside down, to find out what exactly happened here. But Mick Sinatra ran this show. And he was more interested, not in what happened, since it already happened, but why.
He moved slowly, looking at corners, at cushions, at little things no one else would have given a second thought. His men looked at each other. The bodies were upstairs. What was he doing down here? But they had nothing in their arsenal that could persuade their boss to get a move on. They looked upstairs, at Leo. But Leo had next-to-nothing persuasively himself. He might be their boss, but Mick was his boss, and Mick didn’t allow anybody to take liberties with him. They were going to just have to wait.
And they waited. They waited as Mick walked around that room as if he was a police detective in search of clues. They waited as he moved like a man in conflict with himself. And when he stopped walking, and stood in the middle of the room, his face so serious they wondered if he had suddenly discovered something, they just knew he was in it for the long haul. This was going to take a while. But as quickly as he had stopped, he started again. Only he didn’t pace the room this time. He hurried out of the room and up the stairs, his white coat flowing behind him as if his very movements created its own breeze.
“Where?” he asked Leo as he approached him.
Leo escorted Mick, and his men behind him, to the master bedroom. Flo was lying across the bed, on her back, with a bullet hole through her forehead. Mick stood there, watching her. Her deceased husband worked for him, and he died in the line of duty. On his death bed, he begged Mick to look out for his wife and son. Mick hired Flo, at Sinatra Industries, and provided for her son the way he provided for his own children. He never liked Flo, she was too unreliable for his taste, but he respected her husband. Unlike downstairs, he was out of that room in seconds.
Mick Sinatra: For Once In My Life Page 1
