Ruthless: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Read online

  "No. Looks good to me," I said, grabbing the board and following Tomasso outside. I propped the board against a lamp post that helped illuminate the driveway and dusted off my hands. "What about afterward?"

  Tomasso looked a little chagrined, then shrugged. “Well, to be honest, I had someone else come up with the job list. I didn't realize a multiple-generation guy was working the party, so—"

  "It's okay," I interrupted him, forcing a smile. "If I need to hang out here with the cars, I will."

  Tomasso shook his head. "Nah, the perimeter security staff will make sure nobody gets stupid with them. How about after, say, eight o'clock or so, you come inside, grab yourself some food, and join in the party? Aunt Margaret's getting some five-tier monstrosity that could feed a small nation, and the rest of the spread's just as big. Come on in and enjoy yourself.”

  I blinked, surprised. "Really?"

  Tomasso nodded. "I've got more to do before everyone shows up, including making sure the caterers are setting up right, so I'll leave you here.”

  "Cool. And thanks, Mr. Bertoli."

  Tomasso left, and I positioned myself right next to the sign, promising myself that I would do a perfect job.

  Just like Tomasso said, the first guests started to arrive right at six o'clock, with Tomasso's wife, Luisa, coming out and acting as the receiving hostess, standing outside the front door of the mansion. When she waved me over, I jogged and positioned myself at the foot of the steps, off to the side so that as soon as the guests were out of their car, I'd be able to get the keys and park the vehicle.

  For the most part, most of the guests ignored me, which was both relieving and infuriating at the same time. It was infuriating in that even the Bertoli men whom I'd met and worked with on occasion before ignored me, like I was some sort of invisible ghost who just magically took their keys and parked their cars via teleportation or something. Is it that hard to at least say, 'here you are', or even better, 'thanks'?

  After about an hour and a half, Luisa shook her head when she saw the next car pull up. "Mi hermano. ¿O que diabos ele está pensando?"

  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bertoli, what was that?" I said, trying to at least not be invisible. "Do you need help?”

  "No, thank you. I said it's my brother from Brazil," she said as the car pulled up. I had to admit it was the most ridiculously over-the-top type of supercar I'd ever seen, a shiny gold-painted abomination with enough body kit, specialized fender, spoiler, supercharger, and other additions to nearly obliterate the fact that at one point, the car had been a Ferrari . . . I think.

  The driver revved the engine to nearly screaming levels three or four times before idling and opening the gull-wing door and getting out. Whoever he was, he was tall, well put together, and had that sort of annoying arrogance that I hated and wanted at the same time, because it belonged to a man who knew he could get whatever he wanted and was rarely told no. "Ei irmã. Há quanto tempo."

  "It's been a long time, Eduardo. You're late."

  "Don’t blame me. Blame the stupid Norte immigration services," Eduardo said as he came around. I wasn't looking carefully enough, or perhaps I was just tired after running around and parking cars for nearly two hours, but as I came around the side of the car, I bumped into Eduardo, my hip smacking into his.

  "Sorry," I said, reaching for the door handle on the car. I was turned away from Eduardo, so I was caught off guard when he shoved me from behind, sending me sprawling onto the gravel.

  "Stupid piece of shit. What the fuck were you thinking?" Eduardo said, his voice low and deadly. I turned around on my back, my hands up to try and defend myself, when Luisa interrupted things.

  "Eduardo!" she barked, stopping her brother in the middle of bringing his leg back to kick me. "It was a mistake. Go inside before you make a scene.”

  Eduardo looked at his sister, then back at me. He was angry, not only at what I'd done, but also at being interrupted by his sister. "Stay out of my way."

  He turned and walked away, and I got to my feet, brushing myself off. I noticed that my suit coat had ripped along the bottom edge and sighed, hoping I could find a replacement coat at Penney's instead of having to buy a whole new suit.

  I was so focused on my suit coat that I didn't hear Luisa come around the car, standing in front of me. "Are you all right?"

  I was startled, and I jumped slightly when I looked up and saw the tall woman looking me directly in the eyes with her disconcerting black eyes. She was beautiful, almost too beautiful. "Uh . . . yeah, Mrs. Bertoli. It's not a great suit anyway."

  She nodded and looked at the cut. "After the party, I’ll give you the money for a new coat. My brother gets in those moods sometimes."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Bertoli, but you don't need to. Really." Of course, I was lying. Anyone who would wear a two-year-old JC Penny suit to the Bertoli mansion wasn't someone who could afford to replace it at the drop of a hat, but I remembered my courtesy as best I could.

  "It doesn't matter. Remember, during the cleanup, find me," she said. Just then, another car pulled up, an old Honda that made my car look like it was showroom new, and she smiled. "In fact, leave my brother's car here. Take care of this car first, premium parking spot."

  The car shut down, and a tiny Latina got out, so beautiful that my breath caught in my throat. Long, straight black hair framed a face that was cute and doll-like, with luscious lips and sparkling eyes that made my heart skip a beat even though her smile wasn't even directed at me. "Luisa! I didn't know you were working the door."

  "It lends that family touch," Luisa said, coming around and giving the woman a hug. "How are you doing, Carmencita?"

  "Just because you are a foot taller than me, do you have to call me Little Carmen every time we get together?" the woman asked, still smiling. "Don't make me start calling you Grande Luisa."

  Luisa laughed, then gestured to me. "Here, Dante will park your car. Where are your keys?"

  "Oh, here they are," Carmen said. She held out the keys to me, setting them in my hand. "Thank you."

  "It's a pleasure," I said, speaking honestly for the first time tonight. I watched as the two women went up the stairs, Carmen tiny next to Luisa Bertoli but still enchanting. I shook my head, bringing myself back to reality. "Face it, Degrassi. A woman like that . . . you've got no fucking chance. Just park the damn car."

  Still, I could smell the scent of jasmine when I got into Carmen's car, and it was just like I'd imagine she would smell. I made sure to follow Mrs. Bertoli's orders and gave her the best parking spot still available. Sighing, I took the keys out of the ignition and held them in my hand, getting out of the car and carefully closing the door. I went back to the peg board and hung up Carmen's keys, my fingers lingering on the fob for a second before I let them go totally and looked at Eduardo's supercar.

  "Fuck it, running it into a tree would just get me fired," I said to myself as I went around to the driver's door and slid inside. I noticed a sticker and saw that the car was a rental, which made sense, although I didn't know that you could rent a car like this. I noticed one other thing that I had to at least smile about—the car was an automatic. "All this power, and he rents an automatic? Fucking poser."

  I parked the supercar, nowhere near as carefully nor in as good a spot as Carmen's, and took the keys back to the pegboard, slotting them up. Mrs. Bertoli came out just as I did and waved me up next to her. "Yes?"

  "Here," she said, slipping a small clip of money into my jacket pocket. "In case I forget as the party goes on. Also, that should be almost everyone, so go and enjoy yourself."

  "What about when people want to leave?" I asked, looking back at the arrangement of nearly two dozen cars. "It's going to be a mess getting them out of here."

  "I'll handle that. If I need to, I'll find you. Enjoy the party."

  Luisa turned and walked off, her high heels clicking on the tiles while her voluptuous frame swayed side to side in her cocktail dress. I watched for a second, then shook my head. Tomasso Bert
oli was certainly a lucky man, and in any normal situation, I'd have been distracted by Luisa walking away, but after seeing Carmen, she was the only thing on my mind as I headed toward the kitchen, hoping to grab something and maybe brush myself off before joining the party.

  "Who knows?" I whispered to myself as I walked through the foyer. "Maybe you can say hello to her again."

  Chapter 4

  Carmen

  "Carmen, it's so good to see you again."

  I had to smile as Daniel came across the patio around the pool to give me a hug. He was, as always, dressed to impress, or dressed to kill, knowing what he could do. Still, he looked relaxed that night, and I had to giggle as he pulled me close. "Careful. You hug me like that, and Adriana’s going to get jealous."

  "Yeah, right," Daniel dismissed with a laugh. He squeezed me tight and lifted me a bit off the ground before setting me down and stepping back. "You look great though. Hey, Ade told me that you're going to start teaching Johnny?"

  "Next week," I agreed, looking over at John "Johnny" Neiman. Partially named after his late grandfather, Gianni "Johnny" Bertoli, he'd inherited the best features of both of his parents in my opinion, with a tall, lean frame for his age as well as reddish-blond hair that you knew was going to be strawberry blond when he got older. With sparkling blue eyes and a charming grin, I felt bad for Adriana and Daniel when Johnny got old enough to become interested in girls. Then again, like father, like son, I guess. "Have you told him?"

  "Oh, Johnny thinks it's the best thing to happen to him all year, at least until we bring out his grandmother's cake," Daniel said with a laugh. "Seriously, he spent the rest of the afternoon running around the house and saying he was going to become a famous dancer. He even tried to twirl, but he fell on his butt doing it."

  I chuckled and looked up at his father. "And your son saying he wants to be a dancer doesn't worry you?"

  "Why should it?" Daniel asked, giving me a raised eyebrow. “He's just excited to see you. It's been a while since you came by the house just to hang out."

  "Yeah, I know," I said, reaching out and grabbing a glass of something from a server that was walking around. "Work's been busting my ass, that's all. You too, though. I mean, you've been out of state what, five times in the past two months?"

  "Six," Daniel said. "Yeah, it kinda sucks, and I'm actually looking for someone to help me with the load. Unfortunately, Carlo is a little short on manpower right now, so he gets first pick of the best. And you know the problems I have recruiting outside the family."

  "Actually, I don't, and I don't want to know either," I said. I knew that Carlo Bertoli was a Mafia man, but the fewer specifics I knew about the operations, the better it was for me. "What about bringing in a Girl Friday?"

  "You? What are you going to do, charm the bad guys?" Daniel said, mock rubbing at his shoulder when I pretended to start punching him. "Okay, okay, I got it, you're the Littlest Hands of Stone."

  "Kick his ass some more," Adriana said, joining her husband and laughing. "How're you doing, Carmen?"

  "Just working on my jab. Hope you don't mind," I replied with a laugh. I took a drink of whatever it was that I'd grabbed off the server's platter and nodded in approval. "Nice mix. What is it?"

  "Be careful. I think it's spiked," Adriana said, sipping her own drink. "It's subtle, but yeah, it's in there. Mom has a weakness for Mai Tais, so I'm going to keep myself limited to just a few, then join Johnny on the kiddie table."

  "Thanks for the warning. So what's the agenda?"

  Adriana tapped her chin, looking around. "You'd have to find Tommy. I'm just going with the flow. You know how it is."

  I nodded, sipping at my drink. I could taste the underlying essence of alcohol and reminded myself to be careful. "Think I'll find Tomasso and Luisa and see what they're up to.”

  I make my way around and bump into Margaret Bertoli first, still looking amazing even though she was now north of fifty years old. "Mrs. Bertoli, happy birthday. What is it, thirty-nine today?"

  She laughed and shook my hand. "For the umpteenth time. But I think I'm holding together pretty well."

  "You're a lucky woman. I hope I have the same luck as you."

  "Thank you. I'm glad to see you. It gives my daughter and Luisa a dose of reality they don't get the rest of the time."

  I laughed and shook my head. "If you think that having me around is showing them reality, then you need to stop whatever it is you're drinking now and switch to water or coffee. I'm just as strange as anyone else around here.”

  "Oh, I don't know about that," Margaret said, pointing with her chin toward a group of Bertoli men who were standing around, laughing wildly while all wearing nearly identical suits. "I swear they would look more at home on a trading house floor or working mergers and acquisitions."

  "No offense, Mrs. Bertoli, but their similarities with men on Wall Street end at the suits. Those are some hard men over there. By the way, where's Angelo?"

  "He's up to no good somewhere or another," Margaret said dismissively. "Probably wrapping my present at the last minute since he most likely forgot to go shopping until today. You know how he is."

  I nodded. “That I do. Well, good to see you, Mrs. Bertoli. I’m going to make my rounds and say hello.”

  She smiled, and looking around, I felt a little thirsty myself, so I found the drink table and decided to go non-alcoholic this time, skipping the Mai Tai in favor of ginger ale. I was just starting to sip when I felt someone coming up behind me, and suddenly, a man was so close behind me that I could feel the warmth of his body. "I want to dance."

  I turned and saw a man whom I'd never spoken to before, but knew from a family photograph was Luisa's brother. "Eduardo, isn't it? Sorry, but I'm a bit tired. Another time, maybe.”

  It wasn't that I was tired, actually. After all, my normal dance workouts would last an hour or more with few water breaks. But there was something about him that irked me. He was intense, but not in a sexy way. I turned and started to walk away, looking for my friends, but I didn't see anyone. The mass of people on the patio were seemingly faceless, or at least faces I didn't know.

  "I know what you are," Eduardo said in a low voice, stopping me in my tracks. "How much did they pay to entertain the guests tonight?"

  I turned back, anger and shame mixing in equal amounts. "What?"

  "You’re a whore, and I’m in need of entertainment. So let’s start with a dance and see where it goes,” Eduardo said, reaching out and grabbing my arm. I tried to pull away, but his grip was like iron, and he pulled me closer, despite my struggles. "The more you fight, the more I like it, so please, keep going."

  "Let me go!" I said, whimpering as his hand ground down on my forearm bones. I'd had grabby customers when I worked at the Starlight Club, but then I had a bouncer. Eduardo was strong, and I couldn't pull away. "Stop it!"

  "I don't think so," Eduardo said, starting to turn away and pull me toward the house.

  "Hey, asshole," a voice said behind us, and I turned to see a guy standing between us and the door. “The lady said to let her go."

  I placed the guy as Eduardo let me go. He was the guy who'd parked cars earlier. I was worried for him. Eduardo isn’t exactly the kind of guy you’d want to mess with, which is probably why he has the reputation of being a huge asshole.

  “You need to walk away before I change my idea on who I'm going to ass fuck tonight," Eduardo said, his voice low and seething. "Now go, before I make you bleed."

  Eduardo reached to grab my arm again, when suddenly, the parking lot guy charged forward blindly, ramming himself into Eduardo, driving him the six or seven feet back until both of them flew into the pool. All motion at the party stopped as the two men went under, and I flinched when I saw Eduardo viciously elbow the other man in the back of the head.

  "What the hell is going on here?" a voice boomed, and Carlo Bertoli appeared out of nowhere. Someone reached down and fished the man. "Who's starting a fight at Margaret's party?"
/>   One of the Bertoli men, I didn't know who, laughed as they pulled the man out of the pool. "Looks like Degrassi got drunk and decided to start a fight," he said, setting the soaking wet man on the patio. "Luisa's brother ended it."

  "Is that what happened?" Carlo asked, and I saw Tomasso, Luisa, Adriana and Daniel appear in the crowd, Luisa helping her brother out of the pool. "Did this idiot start a fight in my house?"

  "Si, Senor Bertoli," Eduardo said, wiping his eyes. "This crazy man—"

  “That isn't what happened at all!" I said. When nobody heard me, I raised my voice. “Wait! That man . . . Eduardo is lying."

  Mr. Bertoli looked from me to Eduardo, then to the rest of his family. He came over, and while his voice was low, it was intense and brooked no disagreement. “Explain yourself.”

  "I was getting a drink when Eduardo harassed me," I said softly, ashamed. Mr. Bertoli waved everyone else off and came closer, within whispering distance.

  "What happened, Carmen?"

  I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "Sir, I was getting a drink when Eduardo came up and sexually harassed me. He grabbed my arm," I said, showing him my forearm, which was already red with finger marks, "and tried to drag me inside. The other man . . . I don't know his name. He was just trying to stop Eduardo.”

  Don Bertoli patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll handle it,” he said simply. “But let’s talk later."

  He turned around and looked at Eduardo Mendosa, his kind features obliterated. "Luisa, take your brother to get dried off, then I want to see him in my study. Five minutes."

  "Si, Don Bertoli," Luisa said. When Eduardo started to struggle, she grabbed his arm, with Tomasso taking the other side, where they walked him out of the party. Mr. Bertoli watched, then turned back to me.

  “Enjoy the party. Don’t let him ruin the fun." He turned back around, all smiles again. "Come on, everyone, it isn't a Bertoli party without someone falling in the pool! Angelo, how about you join the DJ up front and see if you can give us something to dance to?"