Mob Boss Eleven- The Wrong One (The Mob Boss Series Book 11) (6 page)

BOOK: Mob Boss Eleven- The Wrong One (The Mob Boss Series Book 11)
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Reno
looked at his son.
 
“You called Sal?” Sal
Gabrini was Reno’s first cousin.
 
Although he was technically Jimmy’s cousin, he was affectionately referred
to as his uncle.
 
He was also Reno’s
least favorite relative.

“I
called him,” Jimmy responded.

“Why?”

“Because
I wanted to know if I did the right thing.
 
And Uncle Sal said I did.”

“Oh,
really?” Reno asked.
 
“Does Uncle Sal run
the PaLargio and have contracts he has to fulfill with performers?
 
Does Uncle Sal have lines around the block to
see Brice Montana and the PaLargio has to deliver?
 
Does Uncle Sal have blue-haired old ladies,
who live paycheck-to-paycheck, saving what they can to make this trip to Vegas
just to see Brice Montana, and, by the way, they fully expect to see him when
they get here?
 
Does Uncle Sal have any
of that to worry about?”

Jimmy
looked down.
 
“No, sir,” he admitted.

“Then
stop asking for advice from somebody who don’t know what the fuck their talking
about!
 
It’s easy to sit on the sidelines
with that
would of should of could of
bullshit.
 
The PaLargio is our family
business.
 
This is what we do.
 
And you will not mess that up because some
prick came on to you!
 
You suck it up,
refuse his advances, and move the hell on!
 
You don’t beat him down and cause your old man to have to beat back a
multimillion dollar law suit!”

Jimmy
looked at Reno. “He’s going to sue?”

“He
threatened to!
 
Lee calmed him down, but
we don’t know how long that’ll last.
 
That’s why your ass better step to that man right, you hear me,
James?
 
No bullshit.
 
Just apologize.
 
You understand?”

Jimmy
didn’t like it, but he knew, businesswise, his father was right.
 
“Yes, sir,” he said.

When
the elevator stopped, and the doors opened, Reno and Jimmy headed to Brice
Montana’s suite.
 
Reno hated that Jimmy
was in this position, but this was a matter of business.
 
And when it came to his business, Reno did
not play.
 
Not even with his son
involved.
 

“Enter,”
a male’s voice said after Reno knocked on the door and he and Jimmy entered the
spacious suite.
 

Brice
Montana, a sixty-year-old singer with that gaudy, over-the-top Liberace look
and style, was sitting on the sofa sipping coffee.
 
He was also getting a manicure and he and the
male manicurist were laughing.
 
Jimmy
wanted to turn around and get the hell out of there right then and there.
 
But his father was behind him.
 
There was no backing out when his father was
the driving force.

“Mr.
Gabrini,” Montana said to Reno.
 
“So good
to see you.”

Reno
and Jimmy walked toward him.

“Have
a seat.
 
Please.”

“We’re
okay,” Reno said.
 
“I understand there
was a disagreement downstairs last night.”

Montana
smiled.
 
“Is that what it’s called?
 
I don’t know.
 
I think the police officers would call it an assault.”
 
He looked at Jimmy.
 
“A vicious assault.”

“You
asked my son to suck your dick,” Reno said pointblank.

Montana
attempted to smile it off, but Jimmy could see his embarrassment.
 
“I didn’t ask him to do any such thing.
 
I asked to suck his.
 
But that’s neither here nor there.
 
I asked the young man a question, and he
became violent.
 
That’s the full extent
of our encounter.
 
And I won’t allow that
mistreatment.
 
I tell you I won’t!”

Reno
looked at Jimmy.
 
Jimmy sucked it
up.
 
No bullshit.
 
“I apologize for hitting you,” he said.

Montana
looked at him.
 
And then he smiled.
 
“These old ladies who come to my shows?
 
The biddies as your generation would call
them?
 
They all come because they have a
monster crush on me.
 
They all come
because they think I love them, and would love to marry them someday.
 
That’s how sheltered they are.”
 
Then he looked at Reno.
 
“I will tell you right now that if I’m not
adequately compensated, I will not only come out of that closet, I will fly
out, and turn my mistreatment into the rallying cry for gay rights across the
breath and width of this entire nation!”

Reno
frowned.
 
“Gay rights?”

“If I
am not adequately compensated, I will speak loudly and I will speak often about
how the PaLargio, and one Gabrini in particular, treats their guests of a gay
persuasion.
 
If I am not adequately
compensated, I will bring this establishment to its knees.”

Reno
stared at Montana.
 
Montana waited for a
response, and Jimmy did too, but none came.

Montana
smiled, but it was a shaky smile now. “Do you understand what I’m saying to
you, Mr. Gabrini?”

Reno
nodded.
 
“I understand loud and clear,”
he said.
 
“I’m a man of the streets.
 
I know a shakedown when I see one.”

Montana
laughed.
 
“A shakedown?
 
Are you serious?”

“My
son apologized for hitting you.
 
And he
was wrong to handle it that way.
 
But
that’s all you’re getting from the Gabrinis.
 
He won’t grovel.
 
He won’t kiss
your ass.
 
He won’t give you a dime.
 
But what he will do is kick your ass again if
you so much as attempt to defame the PaLargio or any member of this
family.
 
And I’ll join in the kicking.”

Montana
stared at him.

“So
proceed with your big plans, Brice.
 
Fly
out of that closet like Tinker Bell herself and proclaim how the PaLargio
mistreats homosexuals.
 
Go on.
 
Give it a whirl.
 
Bring that knife to a gunfight.
 
Because we Gabrinis, we’re gunslingers.
 
You’ll be on our turf then.
 
And you will find out really quickly that you
don’t want to fuck with us.”

Montana
swallowed hard.
 
He’d heard about Reno
Gabrini, but he didn’t believe it.
 
How
could such a charming man, a man who owns one of the premier hotels and casinos
in the modern world, be a mob boss?
 
But
he certainly was talking like one now.
 

“If I
were you, Mr. Montana,” Jimmy chimed in, “I’d keep my cock in the closet and
continue to mesmerize the old ladies.
 
Because if you thought you were going to retire on Gabrini money, you’re
sadly mistaken.
 
You heard my father. You
won’t get a dime out of us.
 
Not one red
penny.”

Montana’s
smile was gone.
 
He began to breathe
heavily.
  
Then he tried to smile.
 
He was nobody’s fool.
 
Just as Reno knew a shakedown when he saw
one, Montana knew a defeat when he saw one.
 
“Apology accepted,” he said.

Jimmy
almost laughed.
 
What a joke, he
thought.
 
But he didn’t so much as crack
a smile.
 
He was learning from his father
that you take victory in whatever form it came, and get the hell away from
there.

They
got the hell away from there.
 

When
they were in the elevator, they high-fived.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

“That’s
why I’m naming them the PaLargio South,” Reno said as he and Trina stood behind
his desk.
 
“It’s going to be the working
man’s version of our brand.
 
Marriott has
Courtyard.
 
Hilton has Hilton Garden
Inn.
 
The PaLargio will have the PaLargio
South.”

Trina
swiped through the photos on his IPad.
 
“Valdosta, Georgia,” she said as she checked out the photos of his
latest site.
 
Every photo contained
snapshots of the property itself, and the buildings that were to be
bulldozed.
 
Some photos showed Reno
surveying the property.
 
“Have you signed
the contract yet?”

“The
initial contract, yes,” Reno responded.
 
“I’m going to go to Georgia and meet with my people over the weekend to
iron out some last minute details.
 
If
all goes well, I’ll sign the final paperwork next Monday.”

“And
the PaLargio South in Valdosta, Georgia will represent which number?”

“Hotel
number eight.
 
And every one of our new
hotels will be located in small towns across the south.
 
If this works, then I’ll consider bigger
cities.
 
But we’re in the first phase,
the test phase now.”

“Ah,”
Trina said, looking at one picture in particular, “you’re going to have
competition in Valdosta.”

“What
competition?” Reno asked.
 
He looked at
the photo.
 
It was a snapshot of Reno
standing in the middle of the Valdosta property.
 
In the background was a busy street, and
across the street was a Bed and Breakfast, with a man standing at the
door.
  
“Oh, that place?
 
No, babe.
 
Courtyard by Marriott and the Hilton Garden Inn: those will be our
competition.”

Reno’s
desk intercom buzzed.
 
“Excuse me, Mr.
Gabrini,” his secretary said, “but a Miss Faye Greenwood is here to see you.”

Reno
looked so stunned that it caught Trina’s attention.
 
“Who is she?” she asked.

“Send
her in,” Reno said into the intercom.
 
“Somebody I used to know,” he said to Trina.

“Business
or personal?”

Reno
hesitated only briefly.
 
“Personal.”

“Why
are you so stunned?”

“I
haven’t seen her in a while.”

The
door opened.
 
“What’s a while?” Trina
asked.

“Years,”
Reno said.
 
And when a tall, beautiful
blonde entered his office, he smiled as soon as he saw her.
 
“Well hello there!”

The
tall blonde smiled too.
 
“Hope I’m not
disturbing anything.”

“Come
in!”

Faye
closed the door and headed for Reno’s desk.
 
She was gorgeous, Trina noticed, but also older than Reno.
 
Perhaps a decade older.

“You
didn’t expect to see me today, now did you?” Faye asked with a grin.

“Not
today,” Reno said.
 
“Not any day.
 
I didn’t think you frequented Vegas anymore.”

“You
mean after you dumped me?”
 
Then she
finally made it up to the desk, and looked at Trina.
 
“You must be Mrs. Gabrini.”

“Yes,
this is my wife,” Reno said.
 
“Trina,
meet Faye Greenwood.
 
An old friend.”

Trina
reached over and shook her hand.
 
“Nice
to meet you, Ms. Greenwood.”

“Faye.
 
Please,” Faye said as they shook.

“And
Katrina,” Trina said.

“So
you’re the lucky lady.”
 
Faye said this
and then looked Trina over carefully, from top to bottom, but offered no
compliment.
 
Reno caught the slight and
placed his hand around Trina’s waist.

“So
what do you need, Faye?” he asked.
 
“What’s up?”

“Nothing’s
up.
 
And I don’t need anything.
 
I wanted to see you again.
 
It’s been a while.”

Reno
wasn’t buying it.
 
“Why all of a sudden?”
he asked.

“Sudden?”

“It’s
been years, Faye.”

“I
know how long it’s been.
 
You were out
all night with Katrina, as I later found out her name.
 
You came back to the penthouse, and I was
waiting for you. You respected me enough back then to tell me the truth about
where you were, and I didn’t argue with you.
 
We ended up spending the entire week together.
 
Then a couple weeks later, I’m in Vegas again
on business.
 
I try to see you as I
always do, but you turn me down.
 
And
stop calling me altogether.
 
Oh,
yes.
 
I remember how long it’s been.”

Trina’s
expression remains unchanged, but she was floored.
 
She remembered that night.
 
It was the first time Reno made love to
her.
 
But it turned out to be a one night
stand because she didn’t hear from him again until she had accepted a job offer
at the PaLargio she had applied for before she met Reno.
 
She was stunned to discover that he was the
owner, and he was stunned to discover that she had applied for a position at
his hotel before they had even met.
 
At
the time, it felt like serendipity in the extreme for both of them.

“May
I sit down?” Faye asked him.

“No,
you may not,” Reno responded.
 
“We’re
busy here and I don’t get the point of this sudden need you have to come here.”

Faye
stared at him.
 
“Okay, I do have a
reason, all right?” Then she looked at Trina.
 
“But it’s personal.”

“Oh
yeah?” Reno asked.
 
“What is it?”

“It’s
personal, Reno.”

“I
heard you the first time.
 
But if you
think for a second that I’m excusing my wife so we can talk, you have lost your
damn mind.
 
Now what is it?”

Faye
let out an exhale.
 
“I tried to respect
your wife, but here goes.
 
I need you to
kill my husband.”

Reno
and Trina stared at her.
 
Reno
frowned.
 
“You
what
?”

“Now
come on, Reno,” Faye said.
 
“I know you,
remember?
 
I know you well.
 
Eliminating people is a part of your
portfolio.
 
You do it well.”

Reno
hurried from around his desk and grabbed her by the arm.
 
“Get the fuck out of my office!” he yelled as
he hurried her to the door.

“Okay!”
she said as he pulled her along.
 
“Forget
I asked!
 
It was just an idea!”

At
the door, Reno turned her around and pointed his finger.
 
“You don’t want to be married anymore?
 
Leave him!
 
Divorce him!
 
Because if I hear of
any harm coming to that man, I will go to the cops and turn your ass in
myself!” Then he threw her out of his office.

After
he did, he leaned against the door.
 
Trina went to him.
 
They looked at
each other.

Reno
shook his head.
 
“They always bring that
shit to me.
 
Always.
 
‘Reno, can you beat up my boyfriend, shoot my
cousin, kill my cousin.’
 
It’s fucking
disrespectful!”

“They
think you’re in the mob, Reno,” Trina said, rubbing his arm.
 
“You aren’t, but they don’t believe it.”
 
Then Trina smiled.
 
“Leave it to me to marry a man who women want
to hire, not to love them, but to kill for them.”

And
even Reno had to laugh at that.
 
But then
Trina’s smile was gone.

“I’d
better get back to my office,” she said.

Reno
noticed the change.
 
“What’s wrong?”

Trina
attempted to play it off. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Reno
stared at her. “What? Now I know you aren’t upset about what she said.”

“I was
laughing at that, Reno.”

“Not
that part,” Reno said.
 
“The part about
how I didn’t phone you after our first night together.”

That
was it.
 
Reno saw it too.
 
He stared at her.
 
“I chose you, Trina.”

“I
know that,” Trina said.

“Then
what’s wrong?”

“It’s
how close we came to never seeing each other again.”
 
She said this and looked at Reno.
 
Reno touched her arm.
 

“If I
would not have applied for that job at the PaLargio before I met you, and got
hired, we may have never---”

Reno
pulled her into his big arms.
 
“Yeah,
well, God took care of that, didn’t he?”

“And
how,” Trina said, smiled, and Reno kissed her.
 

But
he understood exactly how she felt.

 
 
 
 
 

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