Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2) (15 page)

           
“How exclusive?” Chelsea asked.

           
“A-List.”

Chelsea looked
impressed and I noticed she had loosened up considerably around Victor. “Do
they know you are…you know?”

           
“Yeah some of them do. People need favors. Gio likes to
make deals. Some get in a bind with drugs or money. Sometimes they need a
person extricated from their lives.”

           
“Holy shit!” Chelsea’s blue eyes were huge, but not with
fear, only sheer curiosity. “Like who? Do you have any stories?”

           
“Chelsea!” I hissed, wanting to clamp my hand over her
mouth.

           
“I do, Blondie, but none that I’m going to tell you.”

           
“Seriously Chelsea, you’re better off not knowing. You
can live vicariously through my experiences.”

           
“Care to share those stories, Princess?” Victor regarded
me with interest. I didn’t know how much Dom and Grant had revealed to him or
what he already heard from other sources, so I kept my mouth shut. Only a few
people knew that Dom and Grant took out Mr. Genovese and that I killed another
enforcer.

           
“Maybe some other time,” I said.

           
“Okay, but I do plan on hearing them.” Victor stood and
asked to program his phone number into my cell. I pulled it out of the front
pocket of my backpack and handed it to him. “A throwaway phone – that’s good
for not being traced. Did your brother teach you that?”

           
“No, I learned that from a movie, hoping it was true.”

Victor chuckled again.
“It’s true, here you go.” He finished adding his number to my contacts list and
handed the phone back to me. “I’ll be here by 5:00 to follow you to work and
I’ll probably hang there for a bit – scope the place out.”

           
“What if my boss or co-workers get curious about you?”

           
“Just tell them I’m a friend of your brother’s. Relax,
I’m not going to be up your ass and creeping people out. I’ll sit at the bar
and observe.”

           
“Okay.” I walked Victor to the door. “Thanks for
everything.”

           
“Don’t thank me yet,” he said before leaving.

I shut the door behind
him and leaned back against it, taking a deep breath. Victor’s parting words
were laced with caution, reminding me of the dangerous task ahead for Dom and
Grant.

PHILADELPHIA

DOMINIC

My plane landed at a
little before 1:00 am and I quickly deplaned, hurrying through the terminal,
following signs for the exit and baggage claim. After exiting the airport, I
immediately hailed a cab and once we were en route to my condo, I called the concierge
to pull my car around so it would be ready for me when I got there. Crimson was
closing in an hour and I needed to pay my fucking uncle a visit.

The cab pulled in
behind my Mustang, which was idling in front of my building. A white cloud
billowed out into the cold night air from the exhaust. I paid the cab driver
and quickly exited.

           
“Good Morning, Mr. Grabano,” the valet said when he
opened the driver’s side door of my Mustang. He took the suitcase from my hand
and tucked it in the back. I slid into the leather seat, appreciating the warm
interior. Even though my car was vintage, a 1969, it smelled brand new on the
inside. I had just gotten it back from my friend Vinnie’s auto body shop. It
had been there for over two months getting completely overhauled. I needed new
interior upholstery because the old was saturated with blood. I needed all new
doors, a front quarter panel on the driver’s side, plus all new windows since
they were destroyed by bullets. It was close to a total restoration. Fortunately
the engine and tranny weren’t damaged, it was all cosmetic. I preferred this
ride to the rental I had been driving.

With the engine already
warmed up, I took off down the driveway. It was late and traffic was light so I
made it to Crimson in less than ten minutes, just before last call. I parked
next to Miranda’s Cadillac and popped the glove box open, retrieving my gun. I didn’t
have my small of back holster on, so I slipped it inside my jacket as I walked
to the front entrance. My cousin, Telly, was working the door. Red from the
neon Crimson sign reflected on his shiny bald head, adding a sinister glow to
his already intimidating large presence, which is why he worked up front. He
sent an unspoken message to every single person who walked through the door.

           
“Yo, Dom. Where ya been at? Marco is fuckin’ pissed,
man.”

           
“Is he here?”

           
“Nah. He was earlier, but got called away. He was looking
for you. What the fuck’s going on?”

           
“I had a lead on Natalie in Seattle that I went to check
out. Dead end though.” Just the very mention of her name off my tongue made me
want to snap my uncle’s neck with my bare hands.

           
“Did Grant go with you?”

           
“No.” I didn’t give Telly any more information because he
was asking too many questions for my comfort level. His mom was my Aunt
Paulina, Marco’s wife. While several of my cousins were in on the coup we were
planning, Telly was never considered. His head was too far lodged up Marco’s
ass. Would we be able to turn him once Marco was killed? That remained to be
seen. Marco had loyalists. Shit, I was probably considered one of them, but not
anymore. “Is Miranda around?” I asked.

           
“Yeah, she’s in her office.”

I walked down a short
hallway into the club, the music growing louder with each step. Bass beats
worked from the floor up, vibrating my body. Throngs of people crowded around
the bar trying to get their last drink order in. The way they were pushing
forward, swarming the bar and shouting reminded me of a busy day at the stock
exchange. I waved at the bartenders as I passed by.

Miranda’s office was
locked so I sent her a quick text since knocking would be useless. Seconds
later the door opened a crack, but it wasn’t Miranda’s face peering out at me.

           
“Grant, you fucker, you beat me back!”

Grant smirked and
opened the door, stepping aside so I could enter. “I got lucky and flew
stand-by on an earlier flight. I’m glad you’re here and didn’t go after Marco
by yourself.”

           
“I was hoping he’d be here. Sorry about leaving the way I
did. The way Natalie ended things pisses me off, but it also makes me more
determined to get things started. Did you fill Miranda in?”

           
“Yeah,” Grant’s smirk twisted into a frown.

           
“I am so fucking pissed, Dom!” Miranda yelled. She came
around from behind the desk and hugged me. I could feel her body practically
vibrating with rage. I had expected some tears over her father’s betrayal, but
her eyes were dry. “Why the hell would he want Natalie dead? It doesn’t make
any sense.”

           
“I don’t know, but Gio Bianchi had a theory.”

           
“What’s that?”

           
“Gio suggested that Natalie is my weakness and Marco
would be able to control me more with her out of the picture. The same theory
applies for Grant. Remove Nat, have it look like New York ordered the hit and
problem solved.”

           
“It sounds like something my dad would do,” Miranda
admitted with a sigh. “He’s always been a paranoid control freak, but this is
taking it a little too far.”

           
“This just adds to the reason why he needs to go,” I
said.

           
“You’re right. I agreed with you before. So, what are our
next steps?”

           
“Let’s get everyone together and meet at your place, Dom.
How about we meet tomorrow afternoon before we have to work?” Grant suggested.

           
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” I ran a hand through my hair
and leaned against the closed office door. It had been a long day of travel and
the sting of Natalie’s rejection burned even more with each mile I put between
us. Suddenly the music stopped, ceasing the vibrations against my back. Only
voices of people filtering out toward the exit, being herded like drunken cattle,
could be heard.

           
“There’s one other thing,” Grant said and I focused my
tired eyes on him. “Gio sent Victor to collect the guns we borrowed and
apparently Victor has been assigned to watch over Natalie, not just for
protection though.”

           
“To make sure we don’t back out, right? Bring Natalie
into their folds so if we fail, she’s collateral.”

           
“Basically, yeah.” Grant sought out Miranda and as if
reading his needs, she walked to his side, slipping her hand into his.

           
“So we can’t fail,” I said. They nodded in agreement and
we didn’t say anything else after that.

I left the club,
pausing briefly to say hi to some of the employees, but turning down several
invites to go party. My mind was working overtime with plans for taking out
Marco as I drove home. The doorman opened the large glass door to my building
and I walked across the lobby to the elevator in a haze of fatigue.

My condo was dark, cold
and quiet. I flicked on the entryway light and hung my leather jacket up on a
hook before kicking off my shoes. I had only been gone a few days, but the
place already smelled stale. Walking into the kitchen, I turned on the lights
that were suspended over the island. The granite shone, not even a piece of
mail cluttered the counter. I might as well have entered a model unit. My condo
seemed less like a home since Natalie left. I had grown used to seeing her bag
hanging on the back of the bar stool and her shoes in the entryway next to
mine. I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and crossed the dark living room
to the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony, drawn to the view of the
Delaware River and sparkling lights of the Camden waterfront below. The ghost
of Natalie’s presence was everywhere. I remembered the morning after we first
made love, how we stood here together watching the sunrise.

The bedroom was the
worst. The dresser was devoid of her clutter and her side of the bed empty. In
the master bathroom, seeing the toothbrush dispenser empty of her toothbrush
and the hook on the bathroom door no longer holding her ratty old robe drove
her absence home. Even the room didn’t smell the same. The scents of her
perfume and body wash no longer hung in the air. She was gone and even after I
followed her across the country, realizing the connection and the love between
us was as strong as ever; she denied me, denied us. Letting out a frustrated
growl, I drained the bottle empty and went to grab another beer.

You don’t betray
family. That’s how I was raised and this had been driven into me since I was a
kid. What my Uncle Marco did was a betrayal. The next beer I sipped slowly as a
plan began to emerge on how to end Marco.
 

***

My brother Anthony,
cousin Dante and his younger brother Johnny, Miranda, her younger brother
Paulie, and Grant arrived at 3:00 the next afternoon. Dante and Johnny had to
be at Butter by 4:00 for work so we sat on the leather sectional in the living
room and got right down to business, first filling in everyone about the latest
events.

           
“Dad wants to take Natalie out permanently and I’m not
okay with that,” Miranda said.

           
“I can’t believe he wants her dead. She hasn’t done
anything,” Dante said. “Does this mean my dad and Dom’s dad know?”

I hadn’t even thought
about my father’s involvement or Uncle Al’s for that matter. When Natalie and
Brittany were assaulted, my dad was the first to call and let me know where to
find them. Of course he didn’t do anything to prevent the attacks, but I
understood or tried to understand why he couldn’t interfere.

           
“Either they know about the hit on Natalie or Marco is
feeding them info just like he has been to us,” I said.

           
“So what are we going to do?” Paulie asked. He was
sitting next to Miranda, almost leaning against her for support. His short dark
hair was gelled up in spikes and a trail of acne lined his jawline, partially
hidden by a light layer of stubble. I had mixed feelings about bringing Paulie,
Anthony and Johnny in since they were all still in high school, but by the time
I was a freshman, I was running heroin for the family and doing other odd jobs.
My sixteenth birthday present from Uncle Marco was my very first hand gun, a
.22, which was now somewhere at the bottom of the Delaware. Anthony already
proved his worth by getting the fake IDs and credit cards. All of them were
eager to get involved.

           
“I think we need to wait until after the holidays. Marco
is suspicious of me and Grant right now since we were off the grid for a few
days. Let’s get him to relax and hit him when he least expects it.”

           
“So this will be our last Christmas with dad,” Paulie
said to Miranda.

           
“I know, but we can’t act like it is.” She placed her arm
around his shoulders and drew him in closer to her side in a maternal gesture.

           
“If he’s even around - remember last year?” I heard the
resentment in his voice.

We had all heard from
our Aunt Paulina how Marco had showed up Christmas morning after not coming
home the night before. He was hungover and wearing a day-old suit with lipstick
stains on the collar of his white shirt. It was so cliché, which made it even
more painful.

           
“I know, Paulie.” Miranda said. She pressed a kiss to his
temple. When he went to squirm away, she held him tighter until he laughed and
stopped resisting.

We spent the rest of
the hour hashing out the plan. Since Paulie still lived at home with Marco, he
would be our spy. He would pay particular attention to any appointments or
travel plans. It was agreed that I would be the shooter. I didn’t want Grant to
be the one since he was marrying Miranda. I could see that shit turning into
resentment down the road. Once we secured a date and location that was low
risk, I’d go in for the kill. After Marco was taken out, we’d determine if my
dad and Uncle Al needed to be removed as well. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to
that. Before we ended the meeting, we all agreed that we were to tell no one
else our plans. We needed to be as discreet as possible to pull this off.