Ruthless: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Page 2
I sighed and closed the cover on my laptop, knowing I could make it, but just hungry for that one break that I needed. I knew I didn't need a lot. I'd already been gifted with so much, but I needed just one more. Give me an inch, and I'd take the rest of the mile and a half that I wanted to get to my dream.
Before I could get more frustrated, a horn honked from outside, and I looked out the front window, smiling when I saw the red BMW X3 in the parking lot. Grabbing my keys, I quickly locked my door and walked out to the mini-SUV, where my best friend was sitting behind the wheel. "Hey, Ade, it's good to see you. Where's the little one?"
Adriana Bertoli-Neiman, the only niece of my benefactor, Don Carlo Bertoli, shook her head with a smile. "Johnny's spending the afternoon with Daddy. I asked if he could stop by later. I was hoping maybe he could try out one of your kids’ classes?"
"I've got a group of two year olds starting at four o'clock," I said with a smile. "It'd be nice to see Johnny in there. You know he's not going to be doing anything beyond bouncing and having fun for a while though, right?"
"I know," Adriana said with a smile. "Actually, Luisa kind of had the same idea. Mariana is getting past her awkward stage, and well . . . you know what, I'll just let Luisa tell you about it."
I grinned as Adriana drove us both to Matt's in The Market, one of my favorite seafood places in town, where I saw Luisa's Fiat parked outside. "I see Luisa's still rocking the sports car."
"Oh, she and Tommy have a family car too," Adriana said with a chuckle, "but like me, she's having an all-girls’ lunch. Mari's hanging out with Tommy at the mansion, if I remember right. I think Tommy's trying to teach her how to swim."
I shook my head and smiled softly, looking over. "What happened to you two? I remember the ass kicking artist who was crashing on my couch three years ago after you went on the run, and now you sound . . . different."
Adriana shrugged and put her keys in her purse. "I'm still an ass kicker. You know that. And if you ever doubt that Luisa's not still an ass kicker, I dare you to try and find out."
"No thanks," I said with a laugh, getting out. "If anything, she's got nearly a foot on me. I barely come up to her boobs."
It was true. Seeing the three of us together, I was the midget of the group. Luisa was just a shade under six feet tall, even without her almost ever-present high heels, and Adriana was a good five foot eight or so. At five one, I often felt like their little sister, even though I was actually just a little older than both of them at twenty-six. I followed Adriana into the restaurant, where Luisa had already grabbed a table.
"Carmen, boa tarde," Luisa greeted me in the flowing, lyrical tones of her native southern Brazilian Portuguese. "Como estas?"
"Eh, bueno, y tu?" I answered in my own American-flavored Spanish. While I had known Luisa long enough that I could understand her words, the two of us tended to just stick to our own variations when we spoke together.
"We should switch to English. Our sister, here, is looking lost."
"Hey, I understand more each day. I know Italian, after all," Adriana said with a laugh of her own. "If anything, I need to just to make sure I know what Johnny's saying to me. Between you, Tomasso and Daniel, he's growing up a freakin' polyglot. One of these days, he's going to start throwing a tantrum, and I won't know how to help him because he'll be yelling at me in about half a dozen different languages, and I'm stuck with just English and Italian."
The waiter, a college guy whose eyes were nearly popping out when he brought us our menus, took our drink orders and walked away. Luisa followed him with her eyes. "You know, Carmen, he was giving you the eye."
"Luisa, he was giving us all the eye," I replied, shaking my head. "Even after he saw the rocks on your fingers. I don't play around with guys like that. They never stay loyal."
"You barely play around at all," Luisa commented slyly, in her normal direct to the point fashion that would have come off as bitchy if she wasn't so playful with her tone of voice. "When was the last time we saw you with a man?"
"It's been a while," I said, not wanting to say that my last date had been nearly eight months prior. "The studio's keeping me busy."
"So are Tomasso's work and Mariana, but I'm still finding time to have romantic time with my husband," Luisa said. "What gives, Carmen?"
"Just . . . just busy, I guess," I said, not wanting to tell my best friends about the financial pressures of running your own business as a one-woman show. "Don't worry about it for now. Tell me about you guys. I heard you're getting your black belt, Luisa?"
Luisa nodded, smiling slightly, but I could see in her black eyes that she wasn't going to let the previous topic of discussion drop completely. "I did. With Tomasso training with me, I was able to really make a lot of progress. Of course, I had to take a few months off there for Mariana, but for the past year and a half, I've been able to train."
"It helps when Uncle Carlo turned a chunk of the garage into a sparring mat for you two," Adriana said with a laugh. "Last time Dan and I came by, we had to park outside. I haven't had to park my own car outside since college."
"That's because you insisted on that horrible American car when you were in college," Luisa said with a laugh, all of us pausing when the waiter brought us our drinks. His flirting with all three of us didn't stop as he took our food orders, but he didn't bat an eye when I ordered an oyster sandwich along with fries. He did, however, give Adriana a bit of a raised eyebrow when she ordered two sandwiches of her own along with an a la carte side of fried clams.
"You planning on taking some home for Daniel and Little John?” I asked, using my own nickname for Adriana's son. "I don't think even Dan could put down that much."
"It isn't for them," Adriana said, saying no more at the time. "So Carmen, how’s the dance studio going? I mean, I know I want Johnny to take classes, but I'm going to be honest, sweetheart. You're worrying me."
"It's fine," I said, "I'm turning a profit, kind of. Just . . . nothing."
"Come on, Carmencita," Luisa said, rolling the last syllable, sitting back and crossing her seemingly mile-long legs that I knew probably drove Tomasso crazy with desire. "You're not getting off that easily. Don't make me start wheedling. You know I can pitch my voice until Adriana cries."
"Oh God, please don't," Adriana said with a groan. I knew exactly what Luisa was talking about, and couldn't help but laugh. After watching a movie with a whiny Latina character, I don't remember which, she'd copied the voice perfectly, creating a voice that sounded something that was akin to fingernails on chalkboard. Luisa only used it once in a while, usually to annoy someone when she didn't want to shut them down directly.
I sighed and sat back. "I guess . . . I just sometimes wish that my dream were a little closer to what you girls have instead of what I have."
"Is dancing not your passion anymore?" Adriana asked, concerned. "I mean, you've done it for so long, I can understand, but—"
"No, I still love to dance," I hurriedly said, "but well, I guess it's hard to say it, but I'm jealous of you two, that's all."
"Jealous? What for?" Adriana asked. "You're the one who still has visible abs and can get eight hours of sleep at night. Only time I've had that in the past three years is when Johnny spends the night at Grandma's house."
I shook my head. "I guess . . . well, Ade, like you. You just sold a piece what was it, a month ago? You're getting write-ups in magazines, and Dan's got a client list that sounds like a pretty good after party in Hollywood. Not to mention, your son is cuter than just about any two-year-old I've ever met."
Our food came, and we dug in. Adriana smiled, then looked at me. "Is that how you really feel, Carmen? I mean, I haven't tried to make you feel bad about my luck. You know if it weren’t for you, Dan would be dead and we'd never have been together."
"I know that, and I don't blame you at all. Just, well I mean, look at you, Luisa. You've got Tomasso and a beautiful daughter, and you're going places within the organization."
L
uisa nodded, knowing it was the closest we could come in public to openly acknowledging her position as Tomasso's partner, not just in marriage, but within the Bertoli crime family. "Which I also owe you for. So what do you want, Carmen? I mean, if we were your fairy godmothers and all.”
"Oh, I don't know," I said, sighing. "I guess I'd like to meet my Prince Charming too, that's all. To dance, to have a man like you two have, and a family . . . that'd be nice. I mean, the three of us are family, but I mean a real family to go home to at night."
"Well, I can't grant you three wishes, but maybe I have a way to help you out and to at least give you some time off," Adriana said, glancing at Luisa. "What do you think, Luisa? Friday?"
"That's a good idea," Luisa said. "I mean, the pickings will be slim, but better than at the dance studio."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused. "What are you two up to?"
Adriana laughed and patted my hand. "It's my mom's birthday Friday, and Uncle Carlo's throwing a big birthday party for her," she said with a smile. "We're going the whole nine yards—a big cake, music, everything. Part of it, I think, is that Uncle Carlo wants the little ones to have a family party, and Mom's birthday is sort of a good excuse to do it. Besides, it brings the whole Family together."
"Bertoli men?" I asked, intrigued but at the same time nonplussed. "Last I checked, the last two good Bertoli men were taken. Well, except for Angelo, and he and I just don't have a spark. I mean, he's a nice enough guy, but there's nothing between us, you know what I mean?"
Adriana chuckled, thinking about her cousin. "Angelo's got his quirks, I'll give you that. But there'll be other guys there. Come on, Carmen. I'm not saying I'm trying to hook you up with someone. I'm just saying leave the studio behind for a night, come out, and have some fun. If worse comes to worse, you can dance with me and Luisa. We'll give those guys a show they won't believe."
"Me, keep up with Luisa?" I said, laughing. "I don't know if I have enough energy for that, not without a good shot of coffee."
"It's a gift and a curse," Luisa said, smiling. "Brazilian genetics and all."
I knew what she was trying to do and smiled. "Maybe we'll have to see, Luisa. Okay, I'm in. Friday night. I'm sure I can find something classy to wear. I'm guessing yoga pants and a t-shirt won't cut it?"
"Yeah, it's a Bertoli party," Adriana agreed. "Don't worry, you'll do fine."
After lunch, Luisa gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek goodbye before going back to the Bertoli mansion, where she was going to catch a nap before beginning her evening work with Tomasso. I watched the sexy blonde Brazilian get in her car before turning to Adriana. "You ever jealous of her?"
"Of Luisa? Hell no. I'm perfectly happy that my husband is not in the active side of the Bertoli family anymore," Adriana said with a laugh. "I'm much happier that he's in the security side now instead. Come on. Jump in, and I'll give you a ride back to the studio before going to get Johnny."
Inside the car, we cranked the air conditioning up to high as we drove. "No, I can't be jealous of Luisa at all," Adriana continued as she drove. "I think we both have what is best for us. I'd never be able to stand having a husband like Tommy, especially one still in the family business like he is. Dan's the man for me, and while we are comfortable with the other side of our family's life, that doesn't mean I want Dan going out there and being an enforcer again. Helping out Tommy, doing the security work—that's what I am happy with, and of course, Dan's personality."
"He is different from Tomasso," I agreed. "Still, both of them are remarkable men. You two are lucky."
"They're lucky to have remarkable wives," Adriana said with a smile. "And you know what? There's a guy out there for you too."
We got back to the studio, and Adriana parked in front. She walked into the studio with me, taking a look around. "You want me to fill out some paperwork for Johnny?"
"Nah," I said. "I know your contact info, and that one isn't going on the expense account anyway."
"Like hell it isn't," Adriana said, her green eyes flashing. I knew that look. It was when Adriana got stubborn, from which side of her family, the Italian of her maiden name or the Irish that lent her her features, I didn't know. "And don't tell me otherwise, or else you don't get your sandwich."
"What?" I said, confused. Adriana pulled up the plastic bag, which had the wrapped-up second sandwich from her order, along with the side of fried clams, and set it on the counter. “Ade . . .”
"No arguments, Carmen. You're losing weight, and when we were at lunch, I could actually see your jaw muscles working against your skin. What are you now, ninety pounds?"
"Ninety-four," I said, knowing the number exactly from that morning's stepping on the scale. "But—"
Adriana grabbed my arm and pulled me into a comforting hug. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I care about you, and I love you like a sister. You're as close, if not closer to me, than Luisa is, and we're technically the same family. You saved my life, and you saved my husband's life. I can never repay that. But I’m going to make sure you're not starving, even if you are a fellow artist in your own right."
I couldn't help it any longer. I hugged my friend back and felt tears come to my eyes. "Thanks, Ade. I promise you that someday, I'll pay you back for this."
"You’d better," Adriana said with a chuckle. "Remember, the Mafia interest rates are nothing you want to let get away from you. I'm charging you half a sandwich a year interest, compounded. You let it get away from you, and you're going to be buying me a party platter with a six-foot-long sub before you know it."
Chapter 3
Dante
I checked my suit for the third time that day, making sure that my shoes were buffed as best I could and that my tie was knotted perfectly. I was determined to make a good impression, and I took a deep breath, calming my nerves.
I'd taken the bus to the Bertoli mansion, figuring that with enough cars coming, I didn't need to take up another space for whoever was dealing with that mess. Besides, my battery was still giving me fits, and I wouldn't have enough cash to pay for a recycled battery for at least another few weeks.
I went around to the side gate, where I knew from childhood memories associates and workers were supposed to go, and rang the bell. "Yeah?"
"Dante Degrassi. I'm supposed to be helping at the party tonight?"
There was a moment that drew out into a millennium as I waited for whoever was on gate control to check my name. Inside, the gnawing little animal that had sat in my stomach since I was seven dug around, telling me that I'd be dismissed with a laugh and told to get the hell off the property, and that everything Julius had told me was nothing more than another prank.
The intercom clicked back on, and I felt my heart stop in my chest. "Yeah, you're good," the voice said, unleashing a massive rush of relief in my chest. "Head up to the main house, side door. You'll be met in the kitchen area."
The gate buzzed and I pulled, almost trembling as I stepped foot onto the Bertoli mansion grounds for the first time in nineteen years. I had to remind myself to keep going after I was all the way through the gate, and I headed up the driveway toward the main house. I was impressed again by the house, which was a massive structure. I don't know if it was Victorian or Gothic or what, but it just oozed power and respectability. The manicured lawns with tasteful bushes and trees lent the house an aura of peacefulness, of a stateliness that said the Bertolis were planning on being there for generations to come. Even the crushed gravel under my feet seemed high-class as it crunched and squealed with each step I took. It was where I wanted to be again, and I felt the heat in my belly flare up. I deserved to be one of the people with access to this place, not meeting mid-level enforcers at cheap bars, clutching at brown envelopes of cash.
I went around to the kitchen area, again from memory, where I had to swallow a little bit of surprise and, I had to admit, fear, as I saw Tomasso Bertoli, the Don's son and heir, standing and waiting for me. "Dante?"
"Yes, sir,"
I said, making sure to sound calm and collected. I knew that if I impressed this man, I'd be able to make strides up the ladder, and maybe get out of my one-room shithole of an apartment. "Dante Degrassi."
Tomasso nodded, thinking. "Degrassi . . . Degrassi . . . wasn't your father part of the organization? I remember a man named Degrassi long ago."
"Uh . . . yeah, my dad worked for Don Bertoli,” I said, trying not to feel shame. "In fact, I even came here a few times when I was a kid. I went to your third birthday party."
"Really? Wow, sorry. It's been a long time," Tomasso said, offering his hand. "I didn't recognize you.”
"It's okay," I replied, at least warmed by Tomasso’s not immediately bringing up the reason I'd gone from the penthouse to the outhouse, if he even remembered. We shook hands, and I smiled, even if it was a professional handshake. "Uhm, Julius said you might need my help tonight. Where do you need me?"
Tomasso nodded and pulled out his smartphone, checking something on it. "Hold on, I had a list here . . . okay. You're going to be in charge of parking cars tonight at first, and working with my wife while she acts as the hostess. The guests should start arriving in about a half hour, so let me show you the map and peg board we set up for the whole thing."
Parking. A fucking valet job. Still, I was determined to show that I could do the job properly, so I followed him inside. "The system isn't too complicated. I hope you don't get confused. I know it's a lot to throw at you quickly," Tomasso said. "I made a grease board with the drawing of the parking area. We'll set that up by the area you'll be working. The magnetic hooks are where you can put the keys when you park them so they don't get lost. Any questions?"