DANTE: NOT MY TYPE. JUST WANTED TO SAY, YOU DID GOOD.
SEND ME A PIC.
I’m like a fucking addict. I need to see her. It’s been months since I last laid eyes on her. I need to see her—I need it.
A few seconds later my phone alerts me to a new photo. Opening it quickly, my cock hardens immediately. It’s her. She’s standing to the side and I can only see the profile of her face. Fuck. She’s still so goddamn cock-achingly gorgeous.
Shifting my gaze back to the men that I was instructing, I clear my throat.
“The Boss wants us to up our game, he wants an extra two percent from each business we collect from. Is this going to be a problem?” I ask.
The Capos are quiet, but Luca breaks that silence. “Boss, I just don’t see how we can do that. Some places are barely afloat as it is,” he says.
I shake my head once. “They haven’t had an increase in years. This is the new norm. If they give you any shit, you let me know. I’ll straighten them out myself,” I grunt.
I’m sure that I sound heartless, maybe I am, but this is the life and I don’t have a choice here.
“You sure you up to that?”
Arching a brow, I smirk. “It’s been a while, but can’t say I don’t miss shaking someone down for a little extra dough.”
Luca barks out a laugh. “Fuck, you’re cold, Ferrucci.”
Shrugging a shoulder, I shake my head once. “Business is business, Luca. That’s the way I see it anyway.”
“Black and white?” he asks.
“Pretty much.”
“Can’t wait to see how much that changes after you tie the knot.”
Thinking about Pippa, I wonder if that will change. She already owns me. How much will I change to make her happy? How much will I let her get away with? I have a feeling if I allow it, she could get away with a fuck of a lot of shit. And I have a feeling that I wouldn’t mind one fucking bit, either.
Chapter Six
PIPPA
Stabbing my lettuce, I wonder how much time I would get for murdering my bitch of an aunt? The other women around me are chatting amongst themselves, but all I can do is think about how much my aunt embarrassed me this morning.
“You can’t kill her, but it’s tempting, right?” a voice says next to me.
My entire body jerks and I turn my head. Luciana is next to me, smiling as she watches my reaction. Pressing my lips together, I hate to admit that I want to hurt anyone, but yes. I would love for my aunt to disappear the same way my mother did.
“Your dress is gorgeous. It’s indecent and absolutely perfect. Your groom is going to shit himself when he sees you,” she says.
“But you’re not going to tell me who he is, are you?” I ask.
She shakes her head slowly. “I’m not. Just know that almost everyone here knows him, some of us better than others, but we all know that he is a good man. You are not being delivered into the hands of a devil. Besides, Gavino wouldn’t do that. He likes you, likes all three of you actually.”
“But Bella too much?” I ask, arching a brow.
Luciana shakes her head once, her lips turning up into a small smile. “In the beginning. You’ll find out. In the beginning, it will not be perfect. It will not even be bearable, but it will get better. Once things are a little more settled. Once you have boundaries set up, things change.”
My lips twitch, and I let out a snort. “Boundaries?” I ask. “These men do not respect boundaries. Don’t you mean, once you submit to their demands?”
Luciana’s eyes widen, her lips press together and her gaze flicks to the side. I feel bad for my outburst and know that I shouldn’t talk to her that way, she’s the wife of the Boss after all.
“If you’re smart, you figure out your own way to set boundaries without them ever realizing they’re respecting them,” Nicola states, leaning forward. She’s sitting across from me, her eyes bright and mischievous as she shifts her gaze from side to side.
“Nicola is right,” Lenora states.
Suddenly, I have the attention of the entire table. “I’ve seen how these men are. I’m sorry, but I don’t think there are any boundaries that can be set. They do what they want, the way they want. They take what they desire, when they desire it. They do not understand the concept of consequences for their actions, not when it comes to women or power.”
The entire table is silent. That is, until Nicola reaches across the table. She takes my hand in hers. My gaze is focused on the table, I’m too embarrassed to look at any of them. My outburst was rude and extremely uncalled for.
“Luciana and I know what you’re saying, Pippa. We have seen the way the old school men acted. If that is all you know, then your assumptions are correct,” Nicola says, surprising me.
Lifting my eyes, I blink in surprise as I look up at her. “She’s right, you know?” Luciana agrees with a nod.
“You’re telling me a generation is completely opposite of their fathers, just like magic?” I ask. My skepticism is clear in my voice.
My father was a good enough man, but I’m under no illusion that he was good in any sense of the word. He had a side whore, he fucked over the famiglia. He was branded and killed a traitor.
The only reason my family was taken care of is because my mother bartered with Antonio Rossi for Bellarosa. Her body for continued support of us. My mother sold my sister into a life of sexual servitude to keep from having to get a job and support three daughters all on her own.
In the end, it didn’t matter much. Rossi and his men dragged my mother off after he took Bella and we never heard from her again. Bellarosa entered into her new life and my sister and I lived with Aunt Irene who gladly accepted my sister’s hard-earned money.
Lenora clears her throat from a few seats down. Shifting my gaze over to her, I watch as she smiles in my direction.
“Maybe because I wasn’t raised in this life, I don’t know what the other men have been like. But I just want to say that although it isn’t going to be easy, from my experience, just talk to him. They may be hardheaded, they may be stubborn, but I think that most of them are reasonable.”
I can’t help it. Shaking my head, I let out a laugh at the same time. They probably think that I’m on the verge of losing my shit and maybe I am. It’s hilarious though. How they think that these Made Men are somehow different from any other Made Man of the past is hilarious.
They aren’t.
These women are just like all the others before them, blindly in love. I’m not the kind of woman that is going to burst their bubbles. There’s no point to it. Instead, I smile and shrug my shoulder.
“I suppose I shouldn’t judge him before I even know his name.”
Lenora smiles, Nicola smirks, but Luciana’s gaze narrows. She knows I’m just saying that to shut them up. Thankfully, she doesn’t call me on it. Instead, I watch as she reaches for her glass of water and takes a big drink.
I focus back on my salad while the conversation shifts to something else. My mind is consumed with a million different thoughts. Everything flits around in my head. I wonder what the wedding decorations will look like, the cake, and every other tiny detail that I won’t have time to pick out myself.
“Have you decided on a wedding planner?” Luciana asks me a while later.
The luncheon is starting to wind down, Lenora’s baby is becoming a bit fussy from being stuck at the table in her lap. I watch them for another moment, hoping that I’ll be able to be where she is one day in the future.
“I suppose I’ll need one. I have no idea how to plan a wedding, or even who to invite. The only person from my side that I want there is my sister. I have a few friends, but they wouldn’t understand any of this,” I admit.
I know that my friendships with my high school and college friends are now over. They know nothing about the famiglia. They won’t understand anything about my new life and I won’t be able to tell them very much, either.
It’ll just be easier if I fade away
. I agreed to this arrangement. I need to dive in headfirst, all in and holding on to my past, seeing my friends go to school, fall in love, get married, work their dream jobs and start families isn’t healthy. Not when I know that I won’t have any of that for myself.
Luciana clears her throat. “We’ll get you set up. Can you meet up tomorrow?”
I almost snort at the ridiculousness of her question. Where the hell else would I go? Instead of being a smart-ass, I clear my throat.
“I’ll be around. I’m still staying at the casino in one of the suites right now,” I admit.
Luciana’s eyes flash. It’s an unreadable expression and she wipes it off of her face before she replaces it with a smile. “We’ll come by and see you tomorrow,” she says. “Maybe Mia will come by and visit too?”
“I like Mia,” Lenora announces.
“You like everyone.” Chloe laughs.
Lenora wrinkles her nose. “I didn’t like Wynter,” she mumbles.
Luciana leans forward. “Nobody liked Wynter, not a single human on earth.”
I don’t ask who Wynter is. I’m not sure that I want to know and with the way they’re talking, I won’t ever have to worry about her. We part ways, I follow Lenora toward her SUV. I wave at all the other women, but I can’t deny that I’m happy to be heading back to the casino and my solitude.
Lenora’s driver, Enrico, is waiting close by. I don’t know where he’s been this whole time, but I have no doubt that he’s had his eyes on Lenora every single minute. He gives me a half smile and helps all of us into the SUV before he makes his way toward the driver’s seat.
The ride back to the casino is in silence. I’m glad. I need the quiet. As soon as the SUV pulls up in front of the unmarked brick building, Lenora reaches for my arm.
“I know that you’re going through a lot. Just believe me when I say that we’ve all been through it. Luciana and Nicola probably more than me. I fell in love with Carlo before I knew who he was. But they were raised in the life, they know more than I do about all of this. Take their advice, they are good women and they only want to help.”
I shake my head, closing my eyes slowly. “They didn’t have to choose between selling their bodies to the highest bidder or selling themselves into a marriage with a stranger. None of them are like me, but you’re sweet.”
“You don’t know their stories, trust me, you’re more alike than you think,” Lenora calls out softly.
I don’t look back. I head toward the door where Enrico is waiting for me. He dips his chin, unmoving as I approach. Tilting my head back, I look into his dark eyes.
“You will be fine, cara. Trust your gut on this, trust your gut on everything you do in life and you’ll be okay.”
“How do I trust my gut when I don’t know what the fuck is going to happen to me?”
He smirks. “Sometimes great things come from the unknown, sweetheart.”
MASSIMO
Walking into the small dry cleaner, I wonder why I didn’t get in on a business like this as an investment. It seems like an easy cash flow industry. People come in and out all day long. A fucking shitload of them. It would be a great way to personally launder money, too.
“Can I help you?” a woman asks from behind the counter.
She’s about ten years older than me, her dark brown hair pulled up into a messy bun, her face without makeup, worn and tired, but you can tell she was a beauty once. Probably could be again with just a touch of effort.
“Is Mr. Gallo around?” I ask, keeping my voice calm, low, even.
She arches a brow, her eyes roaming over me suspiciously. “Who wants to know?” she barks, sounding like a hard-ass.
My lips twitch and I take a step toward her. “A friend. Tell him Massimo Ferrucci is here to speak to him. Somewhere private preferably.”
Her body jerks and her eyes widen. Apparently, she knows who I am. Good. Maybe she won’t be a bitch to me anymore.
She dips her chin, then spins around and marches off toward the back. I don’t take offense, though it would be easy to do so. Instead, I take in the little cleaners. There are millions of clothes hung up one by one, neatly and sheathed in plastic bags.
“Mr. Ferrucci,” a man’s voice timidly calls out.
He’s the opposite personality of his harsh wife and I wonder how that works between them. I figure she is in complete control of their lives and he just lets it happen because it’s much easier than attempting to fight her about any of it.
Shifting my gaze to him, I take a step forward. “Mr. Gallo. Can we talk?”
He nods, then lifts his hand to call me toward the back. Following behind him, we walk into a small room that is decorated as a plain office. There is a small desk, a chair and a computer that looks as though he’s had it since the late nineties.
“How can I help you?”
“Luca tells me you refused to pay?”
He gulps, his eyes rounding. “You’re not shaking more out of me. I have been paying you people since I opened up my cleaners forty years ago. You don’t own my building, you don’t own anything. You come in here and demand money. It isn’t right. Maybe I call the police and let them know what you’re doing?”
I could blow up. Yell at him. I could threaten to kill him, but that isn’t the way Gavino operates. No, he wants people to agree to give him money, to offer it as if they are doing us a favor.
“Arnie, you already know that the police won’t do anything. Why would you threaten me that way? It’s insulting really,” I say.
Gallo inhales a deep breath. I can see his body tremble as he places his hand against the desk. “I don’t have this month’s plus another two percent. I cannot swing it.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Why?”
I don’t bother asking him again. Maybe I should, but I’m not that man. He’ll tell me and he won’t continue to insult me by forcing me to continue to ask the same questions over and over. Inhaling a deep breath, I cross my arms over my chest and I wait.
“My daughter is graduating high school. All of our extra has gone to her. Proms, graduation dresses, parties, all of it goes to her.”
I feel for him. I truly do. Except this expense is nothing new to him. It also isn’t unreasonable. He’s been paying us for forty years.
“She spoiled?” I ask.
Gallo shakes his head. “She’s a good girl. She’s our only child. My wife, she wants to give her everything. It adds up and I couldn’t tell her no.”
“You’re a good man, Gallo. I know that you are. How many times have you been late?” I ask.
“Never,” he says, jerking his chin up.
Nodding my head once. “You pay me next month, I’ll knock off this month’s added two percent, as long as I’m paid in full next month. Does that work for you?”
“Next month I pay my regular fee for this month, then next month’s plus the new two percent?” he asks. Nodding my head once, I confirm his words. “Thank you, Massimo. Thank you so much. What can I do to make this up to you?”
“Two things.”
“Anything.”
Taking a step closer to him, I dip my chin. “One. You never fucking threaten me with the cops again. Two. You owe me. I don’t know what that looks like right now, but when I do, you don’t deny me.”
Gallo’s jaw tightens and I watch as a muscle jumps in his cheek. Begrudgingly, he jerks his chin in a nod. Turning around, I stop at the office door. Looking over my shoulder, my eyes find his.
“Don’t fuck with me, Gallo. I’ll be by personally to pick up your payment in a month.”
Walking away, I ignore the bitch who glares at me as I pass by her. Heading toward my car, I slide into the driver’s seat. Digging my phone out of my pocket, I see that I have a missed call from Enrico. There’s a voicemail so I play that and let his voice fill my speakers.
“Your woman is a good one. She knows her place. She is young and insecure. She is fearful of her future with a stranger. I like her. She wil
l make a good mafia wife.”
I don’t know whether to be pissed off that he’s calling me to tell me about my woman, or if I should puff my chest up with pride that Pippa is impressing the famiglia already. I choose the latter.
Chapter Seven
MASSIMO
Two weeks have passed. There will be no honeymoon, I honestly don’t have the time, not with Gavino’s demands. I am okay with that. A weekend in bed with my new wife is all that I need. I’ll take her on a vacation, but now is not the time. I’m still solidifying my position beneath Gavino. I still have much to prove to him.
Walking into the private party room of the casino, I’m not surprised to see the man himself, along with Arlo, Luca, Benicio, Salvatore, Dante, along with heads and first sons from other famiglias.
It’s my bachelor party tonight.
“Cugino,” Gavino calls out.
Walking toward him, we shake hands. He pulls me in for a hug, kissing each of my cheeks. I’m passed around from man to man. Laughs, backslaps, and cheers soon following. Enrico makes his way toward me, a smile on his face.
“You did good, Massimo,” he chuckles. “I like her.” Arching a brow, I frown. “For the woman that she is, for the woman she is about to become—yours,” he says, clarifying his words.
“Mine. Don’t forget, yeah?”
Enrico snorts. “Not my type,” he mutters.
“Yeah?”
“You’re more my type than she is.”
My eyes widen, my lips twitch and I shake my head. “Noted,” I snort.
Walking over to the bar, I ask for a couple of shots. I honestly don’t give a fuck what they are. I’m getting married in two days. Married. The thought consumes and freaks me out all at the same time.
I can’t help but think that Pippa will be disappointed in who is about to become her husband. I hear a man yell, another shouts out a catcall. Slowly, I turn around. My head is swimming from the shots that I’ve consumed.
Becoming the Street Boss: A Zanetti Famiglia Novel Page 6
