Reckless & Ruined (21 page)

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Authors: Bethany-Kris

Tags: #The Chicago War

BOOK: Reckless & Ruined
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“It’s Alessa, Dean. And if you want me to speak to you, I suggest you learn it and fast.”

“I’d prefer you spoke as little as possible.”

Alessa refused to grace him with another response. She moved toward the door, intent on finding her sister or parents. She didn’t have to stay alone in a room with Dean if she didn’t want to.

Dean grabbed her wrist with enough force for it to hurt. With a rough tug to bring her closer, Alessa nearly stumbled in her flats.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dean asked.

Anywhere away from him.

Alessa steeled her spine—another lie was coming. “To the bathroom.”

“There’s one across the hall.”

“It’s for men and the women’s bathroom is out of order on this side of the office.”

Dean sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Ten minutes, Alessa. I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you today. Get back here before your brother does. Understood?”

Alessa yanked her wrist out of Dean’s grasp. “I don’t need a damned babysitter.”

“Today you do.”

“Why?”

“Conti is in the building.”

Alessa rolled her eyes, more frustrated than ever. “I’m aware Riley is here today.”

“Then you know why your brother wants to keep you safe.”

Safe.

Right.

Joel was an idiot. What could Riley possibly want with Alessa?

“Can I go?” Alessa asked.

Dean nodded and waved at the opened doorway. “Hurry back. I’ll go check on your brother. Ten minutes, Alessa. And then I’m coming to find you.”

Perfect.

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

“W
e’re going to head down to the docks tonight and supervise some of the crew while they get the newest shipment readied for the streets,” Kolin said.

Adriano nodded; he wasn’t really listening. “Whatever, man.”

“Hey.”

“I said whatever,” Adriano repeated.

“Adriano,” Kolin barked.

The warning in the man’s tone caught Adriano’s attention instantly. Kolin rarely, if ever, raised his voice. He was the kind of man who didn’t need to shout and act like a fool to gain someone’s attention. Good leaders used their better skills to command men.

Just hearing Kolin raise his voice to Adriano was enough to snap him out of the stupid daze. Adriano shoved his hands into his slack pockets, shook off the hazy feeling, and gave Kolin the respect he was owed.

“Sorry,” Adriano said quickly. “I’m edgy here.”

“I can see that. What did I say we were going to be doing tonight?”

“Docks, shipment, streets, got it,” Adriano said.

Kolin frowned. “What is up with you, kid?”

“Just because you’re double my age, doesn’t make me a kid.”

“Anyone over twenty-five years younger than me is a fucking kid,” Kolin replied.

Adriano knew better than to argue with his Capo. He had worked under Kolin for the better part of his teen years by his father’s demand. Kolin was a decent Capo to work for and he didn’t let shit pass him by. As Kolin’s right-hand man for the Conti crew, Adriano had just as much respect and control as the Capo did. But Adriano didn’t have the Capo title to go along with it like Kolin did.

Kolin Bastoni might have been Riley’s first cousin, but he never let Adriano get away with a thing just because the two had family ties. When Adriano had been put up for the button at just eighteen by his father, to the disgruntlement of a lot of older Outfit men because of his young age, Kolin had been the one to step up and vouch for Adriano.

Adriano appreciated the fact that Kolin took him under his wing to teach him the streets and the Outfit life when his father was too busy being the face of the family as the front boss. Kolin called him a natural.

You’ll make a damn good Capo, kid
.
These are gonna be your streets someday.

Adriano was good at it—watching the men, making money, and running the streets. He loved it. Riley wanted Adriano higher. Kolin knew Adriano wanted to stay right where he was good. Running the streets and a crew, eventually getting the title of a proper Outfit Capo, and nothing more. Why did everyone seem to think the only way to be happy in the mafia was to hold the highest seat?

Who in the hell wanted that kind of target on their back?

Adriano trusted the guy. But Kolin was, like he would always be, loyal to Riley first. Adriano didn’t plan to run off at the mouth about his personal issues. Kolin had never been one to stand for a man whining, anyway.

“Seriously, you’re pouting like a fucking baby,” Kolin said, pulling a cigarette out of his silver case. “Little boys pout, kid. Fix that or I’ll knock it off your face with my fist.”

Adriano grinned, unable to stop it. “Have I told you how much of an asshole you are lately?”

Kolin lit up the cigarette and blew out a heavy puff of smoke. “Made you stop pouting.” 

“Not in the mood to get a punch in the face today.”

Because Kolin was a dick like that. He didn’t make empty promises and if he threatened to punch Adriano with a good one, he’d fucking do it.

“No, I wouldn’t think so. You’ve still got a mighty bruise from Artino’s pricks.”

That, too.

Adriano sighed and glanced around the parking lot. For obvious safety reasons, Riley wanted a couple of men to trail him when he went to the reading of Terrance’s final Will. Kolin agreed because he had nothing to do. Adriano jumped at the chance because he knew Alessa was going to be here.

Quickly, Adriano found Joel’s driver standing beside a black Mercedes along with Peter and Sara Trentini’s vehicle parked in the next stall in the parking lot. A red Mustang, one that made Adriano’s rage flare like a wildfire, was parked two stalls down from his father’s car.

Dean Artino.

If there was one person on the earth that Adriano wished he could kill without repercussions, that man was it. Riley was holding off on allowing Adriano the hit. It pissed Adriano off like nothing else.

As long as Adriano didn’t bring up Alessa’s name in a conversation, Riley was willing to talk. He would discuss the Outfit, Joel, their plans, but not Alessa. Riley wouldn’t even broach the goddamn topic.

Adriano did everything his father demanded, but Riley still wouldn’t give him what he wanted.

Alessa
.

Christ.

There was a very thin line between jealousy and envy. Envy was wanting what some other fucker had. Jealousy was worrying about that fucker taking away what was yours.

Adriano had always called Alessa his. Because she was.

Dean Artino was getting to stake a goddamn claim because of Joel’s stupidity.

Adriano was starting to believe the line between jealousy and envy just didn’t exist for him anymore. He fell into both categories like an idiot with arms and legs flailing. Alessa was his, everyone else called her someone else’s, and a prick was trying to take her away.

Yeah.

Idiot in both categories flailing like a fool with no help in sight.

Fucking perfect.

Kolin’s voice was a deep timber dragging Adriano from his thoughts. “Talk to me, Adriano. I’ll shrink your head today.”

Adriano needed to get Kolin away from the idea that there was something wrong. If Kolin sniffed that shit, he would dig at it like a dog going for its bone. And then he’d run to Riley.

Don’t poke the bear, as the saying went.

“Why in the hell are we working the docks tonight?” Adriano asked.

Kolin shrugged. “We have to get back to work sometime. Your father wants the crew running as normally as possible through the coming weeks. It gives off the impression he’s got everything under control while the Rossi, DeLuca, and Trentini crews are still struggling to catch up after everything that’s happened.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts, Adriano. Be there or I’ll come looking for you.”

Adriano scowled. “Yeah, I got it.”

Kolin’s phone buzzed, drawing the man’s attention away. He tossed his unfinished cigarette to the ground as he pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.

“Your father is almost finished,” he informed.

“Great.”

But not really.

Adriano hadn’t even gotten a glimpse of Alessa that morning. He had wanted to call her for the last two days, but his phone ended up damaged the Sunday of the bomb. Unwilling to part with the memories he had on that stupid iPhone, he sent it away to get fixed.

Kolin’s phone buzzed again. “And you’re needed inside, Adriano.”

What?

“Why?”

“Not sure. I don’t ask questions, kid.”

Wonderful.

 

 

“Sit,” Riley demanded.

Adriano took the large chair beside his father and gave his attention to the lawyer on the other side of the desk.

“You may leave, Riley,” the lawyer said.

Riley scowled. “Why? He’s my son and Terrance was my friend. Surely whatever he left for Adriano isn’t that secretive.”

The lawyer didn’t seem affected by Riley’s tone. “I did not make the rules for this Will reading, Conti. Terrance was very specific in his instructions that each person be read their portion of the Will in private with me and me alone. I’m sorry if that displeases you, but you are not the one who paid me.”

Huffing, Riley pushed up from his chair and exited the room without another word. He closed the door a little louder than was necessary.

The man passed over a thin, ivory envelope to Adriano and then looked at the papers in his hand. Flipping the envelope over, Adriano noted the Trentini wax seal and a yellowish stain along the edge of paper where it was closed. It wasn’t thick or particularly heavy, but Adriano wondered why Terrance would leave him anything at all.

“A letter, to be delivered upon the result of my death, to Adriano Riley Conti,” the lawyer read aloud. Peering through his thick spectacles, the man squinted at Adriano. “I was not informed of the contents of the letter, young man, and according to this, neither has anyone else. It is intended for your eyes only and has been double sealed across the folded edge for the added insurance of privacy. The wax seal comes from Terrance and only Terrance.”

Adriano checked the wax seal over again. It matched the large signet ring Terrance had always worn bearing the Trentini coat of arms with a lion lunging, three swords, and the flag beneath.

“You are one of two men who received something like this,” the lawyer said. “There is also a small trust—very small, a few thousand, nothing more—to explain away the fact you are included in this reading. Terrance’s request was that those who received his letters get them without the knowledge of others. He had no desire of making the contents, whatever they are, publically known. That includes your father, Adriano.”

Adriano rested back in the chair, the letter burning his curiosity further. “Oh?”

“According to Terrance, especially your father. I suggest you put it away until you have time to read it in private.”

Taking the risk of ruining the perfect wax seal, Adriano folded the envelope and shoved it into his pocket.

“I need to have confirmation from you that it has remained sealed,” the man said.

“It’s not been opened,” Adriano replied, sure of that fact.

“I should hope not,” the lawyer replied. “It’s been in my safe along with this Will for years.”

“Years?” Adriano asked quietly.

“Terrance knew what he wanted.” Wincing, the lawyer added, “With provisions, of course. Bearing in mind his father-in-law’s demands and whatnot. Terrance had a great deal of possessions and family titles that belonged to solely him. Those, he did with what he wished.”

“And if the seal had been broken?” Adriano asked, curious.

“Then his request in the letter, whatever it is, would be already filled or void and you wouldn’t have received it or the trust at all.”

That explained everything, didn’t it?

Adriano pushed up from the chair. “Thank you. I’ll be—”

“There are a few things left for your father,” the lawyer interrupted, flipping over the pages on his desk. He waved at Adriano. “Ask him back in for me. You may leave, young man.”

Dismissed.

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