Thrill Me, page 7
I stare at him, studying the rage in his expression but also the hurt. I know without him saying that it’s all a mixture of everything and yes, he is mad at me.
He’s mad as fuck that I told him I couldn’t be with him.
And, yes he is mad at the situation.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be. Nothing for you to be sorry for.”
“Please tell me you didn’t hurt him.”
“Left him alive,” he answers with an air of menace in his tone.
“You didn’t tell him… did you? About the accident?” I’m afraid of the answer to that more.
“No, precious Gabriel doesn’t know shit.” Sarcasm ripples through his tone and drains me.
“Precious?” I counter. “What the fuck is the matter with you? Why would you say that to me?”
He leans close to me like he wants me to see him fully, how serious he is.
“You picked him, Mimi. Not me,” he states with emphasis. “If we’re such good friends Babygirl, you would have always known how I felt about you.”
He moves back and that chill that ran down my spine moments ago scatters across my body.
Truth is truth and no one can refute that.
He’s right and I can’t refute any part of the accusation.
All I can do is watch him as he turns and walks away from me.
Part of me did know how he felt about me.
So why didn’t I do anything about it? Why would I have known something like that and go after Gabe instead?
Maybe I… I don’t know. Anything I think now is going to feel like I’m just making up excuses. But damn it, I cling to the excuse I always find and it’s always about her. Mom.
Always.
Maybe I was more fucked up than I realized even from back then and never wanted to get close to anybody too precious to me. Like her.
Everyone thinks that my mother had an accident, but I’ve carried the secret of the truth very few people know.
Everyone else thinks she fell off the balcony at home and drowned in the pool. I would have believed it too if I hadn’t found the suicide note.
Maybe the part of me that would have been able to do the logical thing and go for the guy who always held my heart died that day when I realized mom’s death wasn’t an accident.
She left the world and left me.
Left me without saying goodbye.
It was me who found her dead in the pool too.
CHAPTER NINE
Mimi
I knew the next day was going to be shit from the minute I woke up.
I just knew.
So when I got a missed call from the realtor and a voice message asking me to call back, I knew it was going to be bad news.
It totally was.
Apparently the owners of the building I wanted to lease for the restaurant have decided they no longer wanted to lease it. They want to sell the entire complex. It’s down to a family emergency that’s required this drastic shift of arrangements.
That would be all good and well to have the entire complex and call it my own. Except, I don’t have the three million they’re asking for.
Jesus Christ.
My skin must have set ablaze the minute I heard it. I’d gone from thinking I had the money to make this dream of mine come true, to this morning when it just blew up in my face.
Three million…
Three fucking million…
As if I had that kind of money, or like I could magically find it from somewhere.
I spent the day looking for alternative buildings. The whole damn day was spent searching one end of Illinois to the other mainly focusing on Chicago because that was where I had my heart set. I found nothing that resonated with me the way the first place did.
I didn’t sleep and when morning came I decided that maybe the way wasn’t to find an alternative.
Maybe I had to find a way to still get what I wanted.
The only person that came to my mind who could possibly, potentially have that kind of money to help me by way of investment was my father. He was always helping our relatives set up businesses in Italy. Always. So maybe he would do this for me.
He would have the money, and no he wouldn’t just cough up that kind of cash to hand over to me but if he looked at it as an investment I figured it would be more enticing.
That was what I told myself as I walked into Cipriani Consultancy a few hours later.
Dad had built this place from scratch.
It was one of the first businesses to work with the Giordanos. He worked with their family way back to Italy and for over forty years.
He handles the new contracts they receive and with their permission he was also able to take on business with some of the other crime families who are part of the alliance.
Dad is the middle man and this business that now takes up a whole building is how he met my mother. It’s a funny story that saw him doing everything he could to get her attention. Mom was at the height of her path to becoming a lawyer. Then things changed when she met him.
She used to tell me how she fell hard for him, and all these amazing stories about him. Of how adventurous he was and full of life he used to be.
But… I don’t know him to be anything like that.
Dad has always been firm with me. Spoiled me rotten, spoiled me worse after Mom died, but he was never there. That explained why I spent so much time with the Giordano boys. And probably why I’m not the princess he expected me to be.
The only time in recent memory that I recall him giving me some kind of parental attention was when he found out I was working at The Dark Odyssey. That came after he wanted to send me away to school in Italy. He saw that as his way of helping me get back on track to cooking.
He wanted to send me to The Casa Artusi, one of the finest cooking schools in Italy, but I wasn’t ready to go, and definitely not ready to be so far away from everyone. I can’t stand my relatives in Italy and they don’t like me that much because they class me as a half-blood, because of Mom. So I knew it would have been a disaster waiting to happen.
I calmed him down by telling him I was the manager of the club and that I’d be doing some cooking courses, which I did actually do. Just not when he thought I was doing it. I made him believe that I was just going to be doing the administration work for the boys and nothing more. Basically just paperwork.
Although he accepted that as an answer he’s still not happy about it and probably right too, since the bulk of my work is actually making sure the club is stocked with enough condoms and lube.
Jesus, I know I’ll most likely go straight to hell for lying the way I have. The thing is though, he knows the restaurant has always been in the cards for me.
He’ll know what it means for me to be taking this leap now. That’s what I’m hoping for anyway. Basically that he’ll have some compassion and help me.
I go straight to his office and knock on his door that’s already ajar. He’s expecting me and told me to get here for eleven sharp because he has a meeting he can’t be late for. I have ten minutes with him.
“Come in, “ he calls out and I push the door open and go inside.
As usual Dad looks well put together and sharp in his Armani suit. It accentuates his wide shoulders and large stature, exuding power and authority—the wealthy businessman. All qualities of him.
His dark hair which is gray at the temples is still full and he has the same style I’ve always known him to have. A classic crew cut with the sides tapered.
He has his head bent low as he writes something so there’s a delay of about five seconds before he acknowledges me.
When he does it’s the usual part stern face and part father who should be happy to see his daughter he hasn’t seen since last month. Something else comes into his sapphire blue eyes though that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s a light of wonder which I pray means he’s in a good mood.
“Morning Dad,” I say sweetly and silently rejoice when he gets up and makes his way around the desk to give me a hug. That does suggest he’s in a decent mood.
“Mimi, you look… so much like your mother.” He smiles with a sadness lurking in his eyes.
“Thank you.” I always take that as a compliment because my mother was incredibly beautiful. So of course it’s a compliment to hear I look like her.
“And, you’re dressed for business.” He observes and gives me a curious stare.
I didn’t tell him why I wanted to see him when we messaged earlier, only that I had something important I wanted to discuss.
“It’s kind of a business meeting, I am still coming on Sunday though. So this isn’t to replace that.” We have dinner together once a month. When I first left home it was every week. This however is what it came to and it wasn’t me who phased out the weekly meetings. It was him.
Him being busy, but like most mafia guys I know that could mean anything from business to pleasure.
I’ve seen his women and the fact that his pockets run deep means he won’t lack for one at his side. There’s always an easy pool of them that frequent the circles we travel in.
“That’s good to hear.” He nods. “Haven’t seen you in a month. So, hit me with it. What’s so important to drag you down here?” He motions to the chair before him and I sit.
“My restaurant,” I say. “My restaurant, Dad. I want to do it. I am doing it.”
He smiles and his eyes twinkle. “That’s wonderful sweetie.”
“Thank you. I have my business plan ready and I reckon I could be ready to go in less than two months but plans kind of fell off course for the location.” Here… this is the part that I need to sell him.
“What happened?”
“The owner decided to sell the place instead of leasing it and it’s substantially more than I anticipated. Dad, the location is beautiful. It’s right near the subway and the mall and right there in the city center where the footfall is the heaviest. I was considering buying but I don’t really have the funds. I had all the money for the lease and everything I needed to set up, this change, however, has knocked me for six.”
He looks me over and I can tell he’s starting to see the purpose for my visit and where I’m going with my conversation.
“How much is it Mimi?” He gives me a narrow look.
I take a deep breath. “Dad… it’s three million.”
He presses his lips together and then bites the inside. “Three million? And you have how much?”
My lips part. “I have a hundred grand. I actually have that in my savings account. In my current account there’s close to twenty. I wondered if you’d consider investing. Investing… in me.” I sound desperate. I sound like I’m begging. I know I am, I just figured if I say it like that maybe he would consider it.
He runs a hand over his salt and pepper beard and sighs. “Mimi… that’s a lot of money. That’s a lot to part with, and risky.” He stares straight into me and I look back with hope. I wish he could see how badly I want this. I wish he could see how much I want to do something with my life. The look on his face though tells me he’s not going to help.
“Mimi, you have no concept of what it takes to run a business and the fact that you’re here asking me for three million dollars is so bizarre.” He sighs.
“Dad how is it bizarre? You gave cousin Lucas five million to set his business up in Catania, why not me?” Lucas isn’t the only relative he’s helped like that. Sure if I’d never known him to part with such large sums of money, I would never ask. Since I do I would never think of it as bizarre.
“Mimi, Lucas has two very successful hotels and is setting up another. You can’t compare the two. For my five million, I got back ten. This is different. This would be me buying you this place and I wouldn’t expect to get the money back because you’re my daughter.”
“So, that’s all the more reason to help me. I’m your daughter and you know how I’ve wanted this forever,” I continue on in hope.
“Have you Mimi?” He gives me a pointed stare.
I can’t believe the question, but then… it hits me and I see what he means.
He’s asking me that because not only have I had a long break but I turned down the offer to study in Europe with the finest chefs to work in a sex club.
That’s the reason for the question.
My breath hitches but I push past it. “Dad I just needed to sort myself out and now that I have I can see clearly what I want to do. I want the restaurant.”
“Sweetheart, I can’t…. I’m sorry I can’t part with that much money with something that just might not work out.”
“Why wouldn’t it work out?” I’m so stupid. Why did I ask that question? I can see the answer all over his face. I can see it in his eyes. It’s been implied in what he’s been saying.
“Because it’s me,” I fill in and stand up at the same time. “You think it won’t work out because it’s me. You don’t think I’m serious.”
“Mimi, please don’t be upset.”
“How can you expect me not to be upset? I noticed how you aren’t saying that I’m wrong. You don’t think the restaurant will work because you don’t think I can do it.”
“Sweetheart, I think it’s good that you saved up and you have your plans. I suggest you try to find something in your means and take it from there. As for me my answer is no.” He sounds like he’s talking to one of his clients.
I try hard not to feel the cold sting of failure seeping into me. I’m trying hard to keep it at bay. It still comes though but I don’t act like a brat and storm out. With dignity I nod and I even offer up a smile.
“Thanks for your time,” I tell him and he sighs.
He looks like he’s about to say more to me but I don’t wait to hear it. I don’t want to hear any more reasons why he doesn’t think the dream I’ve had for so long won’t work out because it’s me. So, I walk out feeling a hundred times worse than I did earlier.
He doesn’t think I can do it. Hearing that part is worse than not having the money.
CHAPTER TEN
Salvatore
The one thing I like about my staff at the club is how observant they are. They check and watch out for shit that looks like trouble.
They all know to do it.
From the security guards outside to the exotic dancers on the platforms.
Never can tell when enemies may walk in.
The women here though take that keen attention to detail a little too far, and when they use it to start checking up on me it pisses me off. Especially when I don’t want the attention.
The tall blonde woman in my office now is like that. I forgot her name. I think it’s Cora or Corrin. One of those, and she’s one of those women who always has her eye on me.
She thought it would be nice of her to come to my aid last night although I turned her away and here she is again tonight, fishing to see if I’m with Mimi.
We’re in my office and she’s supposed to be in the playboy lounge. She’s a fairly new waitress. Been with us now for over two months. Christian hired her on the basis of her looks and he was right to. She has the looks and like the other waitresses who work the lounge she’s daring. Daring, meaning she’s not worried about working topless or calling the shots if the playboys who book the lounge have any special sexual requests. She does it all and said so on her resumé.
From blow jobs to threesomes and other requests.
That was what she wrote.
Up until last year this woman would have been my type, my kind of woman who’d be as daring and adventurous as me.
Tonight.. no.
“I thought you might want a drink,” she says, resting against the wall. She looks at me with her large green eyes like she’s committing me to memory.
“I don’t need a drink. But thank you,” I answer.
“Anything else you need?” Seduction ripples from her in waves with the question. She pushes off the wall and makes her way over to me. She sits on the edge of my desk and her little negligee rides up her hips and she parts her legs wide enough so I can see she’s not wearing any panties.
She smiles and I narrow my eyes at her. I sit back against the leather of my chair and give her a crude smile when she widens her legs even more exposing her pussy lips with a bright smile on her face.
“I think if you like your job, I would really love it if you could go back to the lounge and do your work,” I remark, much to her disappointment.
“Oh… um…okay…” The smile on her face recedes and she stands knowing not to push me. I’m one of these guys who I think she knows appears to be even tempered but cross me and it will be your first and last strike.
She doesn’t look at me as she walks out. I didn’t expect her to.
What I also don’t expect is to see Gabe standing at my door.
He was about to knock when she pushed it open and walked past him, not before glancing back though at the mess his face still is.
Gabe’s face is still fucked and it’s actually swollen.
“Can I come in?” he asks and I nod.
He walks in and I straighten up. I’m still ready to pop a bullet, and I’m still reminding myself that he’s my brother.
He sits in the chair in front of me and we stare at each other.
Of the brothers we look the most similar. We look like Pa. Vincent and Nick look like variations of our mother. Frankie looked like us too. Sometimes though when I look at Gabe it’s like I’m looking at myself.
“What did I do to her?” he asks. “What did I do to Mimi?”
I’m not actually surprised that he asked the question like that.
My rage the other day probably spoke of everything and it must have been a tell that that fight could only have been about Mimi. Nick guessed it right off the bat and tried to get me to cough up the info a few nights ago. I kept my silence though. I kept that part of the implied promise I made Mimi. I kept it then and I’m keeping it now.
