Chapter One
“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you!”
Cobra grabbed the man by his throat and held him up against the wall. “You will fucking tell me or I’ll leave you here to take full responsibility for this mess.”
“Please, man, I’ll tell you everything. Shit, I didn’t know that the truck belonged to the Fiorre family. That wasn’t what I was told.”
“Who told you to hit this shipment?” Ziek asked, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed while Cobra did the heavy work. Cobra put the fear of God in the guy and Ziek bent down and picked up the black backpack on the ground. Ziek looked through the bag the guy had on him. Multiple rolls of money and a book with addresses was inside.
“What the fuck is this shit?” Ziek asked him.
“Not mine. I’m delivering that, too. I had to pick it up for the same person who wanted this truck of stuff,” the guy told them.
Ziek exhaled.
“Roland, this isn’t our first night on the job. I mean come on, man, we’re right fucking here,” Ziek said.
“Men have died for less,” Cobra told Roland through clenched teeth. He still had him up against the wall.
“Don’t kill me. If I knew this truck was yours, I never would have agreed to do the hit.”
“Bullshit. What dumbass even suggested that you try and rip us off?” Cobra asked.
Roland shook his head. “He’ll kill me.”
Cobra gripped the guy’s neck tighter, making him cough.
“And you don’t think I will?” Cobra asked.
Cobra slowly lowered the guy down and released him.
“Alvarez Colon. He said it would be easy. That no one is ever around securing this location. That your bosses are so big now that they slack in their security.”
“Really?” Cobra asked, but Ziek didn’t say a word. The only reason why they were here tonight was because of the multiple times the place had been robbed. They hadn’t known about it until recently, and Collin and Fedarro were pissed. Turned out to be an inside job. That guy was no longer going to be a problem. Cobra was pissed, though. When they caught the guy, he took a shot at Cobra and nicked his cheek good. It was cut and bruised. Cobra was in a foul mood.
“Well, this little free supply is officially closed down. Now, what do we do with you?” Ziek asked.
“Send him to Alvarez Colon in a fucking body bag,” Cobra said through clenched teeth. His brother was pissed, and he couldn’t blame him. This bullshit was below them. There were other people who worked for Fedarro and Collin that could have done what they did, but lately Cobra was feeling restless and ready for a fight. He needed to blow off some steam, and boy did he on the other idiot. Ziek hid his smirk.
“No. No, you said you wouldn’t kill me if I talked. Please, whatever you want I’ll do. Just don’t kill me.”
Ziek looked into the bag and saw that there was a large amount of rolled up hundred dollar bills, amounting around the hundred thousand range or maybe more. That was a lot of fucking money to be carrying around in a backpack. Where the fuck did it come from?
“How much do you think they got in free shit over the last few months?” he asked Cobra.
“Too much,” Cobra said. Ziek brought the bag over to his brother and let him look inside.
“You think this might cover enough to appease the bosses? Because otherwise, they’re going to want bodies,” Ziek said, messing with the guy and making him sweat.
“No, oh God, no. Not the Fiorre brothers. Oh God, I’m going to die. Shit. I didn’t know it was your place. I didn’t know anything. It was part of an initiation into to the gang.”
“What gang would that be?” Ziek asked, opening up the book log in the bag. He noticed the street addresses, and what looked to be a log of money collected. What the hell was this shit? Could it have something to do with the problems that were arising with some business they and their bosses were working on? The addresses matched some of the locations where they recently purchased real estate as investment. They were planning on revamping those neighborhoods and cleaning them up. Ziek would need to talk to Collin and to see how they wanted to handle this. In the meantime, they had to make sure this guy went back and told Alvarez Colon that he had been put on notice.
“Alvarez needs to know who runs this city. It sure as shit isn’t him. We’ll let you live, but you need to make sure he understands the seriousness of what he has done. Cobra, just don’t kill him.”
“Seriously? But I’ve been itching for some blood.”
“I know, take it easy. I want him to be able to speak and think coherently when he goes back to his buddy and explains things.”
“No promises,” Cobra said, and slugged the guy in the stomach.
They weren’t going to kill him, but they needed to send a message to Alvarez to let him know whatever he was brewing, he’d better call it off before things turned bad. For Alvarez.
* * * *
Alessa wiped her brow with the sleeve of her shirt as she prepared the final set of desserts. Some special guests of their boss were at the restaurant. Her boss, Michelangelo, insisted that she prepare something special. She was lost in preparation, enjoying creating what she was certain would be a fabulous attack on the taste buds. As she watched the platter disappear with Romando, one of the main waiters at the restaurant, he winked and she smiled, then wiped her hands on the towel.
“They will love it, Alessa. No worries at all,” the head chef, Peter, told her. She cleaned up her station and started thinking about the ride on the bus and the subway home. It would be late by the time she got to her apartment, showered, and got into bed. Then she would start all over again. She wiped down the station and put all her supplies away.
“Alessa,” Romando called to her from the doorway with a smile. “They were impressed. Michelangelo wants you to come out to say hello.”
She exhaled. She undid the apron and smoothed out the white chef outfit.
“Don’t forget the hat, gorgeous,” Chef Peter teased and winked. She shook her head and laughed. It was all a show. Like most of the places when customers wanted to meet the chef, or pastry chef in this case, to compliment them personally, they were required to go out in full professional attire and basically comply. She made sure that her hair was in place in the nice tight bun she wore, and checked her makeup, then added the hat, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.
The moment she laid eyes on the table of three men, her stomach clenched. They were gorgeous, well dressed, and looked serious as she approached.
“Here she is. Ms. Preston,” Michelangelo introduced her to the men.
The one in the center, leaning back, held her gaze as he brought one last piece of the chocolate square to his lips. The others complimented the dessert and asked how she came up with the idea. She made up some story of imported ingredients as Michelangelo preferred and then excused herself to get back to the kitchen. A glance over her shoulder and the man at the table that didn’t say a word, rose from his seat. As she came around the corner, she stopped in her tracks. There stood Calvin with a tall, skinny blonde with her hand on his chest and giggling. He locked gazes with her, looked her over, and chuckled.
“Alessa, my, I didn’t know you worked here,” he said to her and the blonde stopped smiling and looked at Alessa like she was shit. Alessa wished she was dressed like she used to dress for the club scene and hanging with friends. Calvin would be drooling right now.
She swallowed her anger and disgust.
“Yes, I have been for a while now. I was just visiting a table of guests.”
“That must stink. You look healthy,” he said, but he stared at her body like he was saying she was fat. Which she wasn’t at all. The clothing was baggy and meant to be comfortable, not to show off her figure. She thought about his comment to her about staying home and cooking for him but never getting fat. Her temper flared.
“Well, we’re heading out to do some dancing and meet with other attorneys. I just had a quick meeting with some potential clients. Roxanne here was a fabulous asset to the business dinner. She knew just what to say and how to act,” he said and stroked the woman’s jaw. The slut pressed her breasts closer to Calvin’s chest, and she licked her lips and stared up at him like he was a god. Dimwit.
“Wonderful,” she said and swallowed hard. Calvin looked good. He wore a designer suit, had diamond cuff links on his sleeves, and the woman he was with wore a very large emerald necklace around her neck. Not fake, that was for sure.
He made a funny noise as he threw daggers at her. “A pastry chef. What a waste,” he said and walked away, stopping a moment as one of the guys whose table she just visited stopped him, saying something about talking to him in a few days. So these men were the ones Calvin met. That would have been her all dolled up and playing a role as the good girlfriend. Except Alessa had brains as well as a decent body. Well, maybe a bit thinner lately with all the stress, but still she was in great shape. She stared at the blonde flirting with the other guy, too. Never. Whatever. The jerk, and how sarcastic he sounded as he said pastry chef and chuckled. Asshole.
Alessa felt the tears hit her eyes, and then the anger took over. She stuck her tongue out and flipped him the bird. When she turned around, she bumped into the customer she had just went to visit at the table moments before. The one who didn’t say a word but took a bite of the chocolate she created. Her jaw dropped, her face flushed, and he raised one of his eyebrows at her then chuckled.
“I…uhm…” she stuttered.
“He was an asshole,” he said to her, and she was shocked. He and his friends or associates had a business dinner with Calvin and the bimbo. Yikes. Why did she let him get to her? She laughed.
“You have no idea, sir,” she said, and started to walk past him when he touched her hand. She froze in place. He held her gaze. The man was gorgeous, older, with a bit of gray by his ears, but had bold, blue eyes. Eyes that, right now, stared so intently at her that she shivered. He looked over her face, her lips, then back to her eyes again before squinting.
“The dessert was exceptional, Ms. Preston.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate the compliment.”
“Michelangelo said that you’re finished for the night. How about a drink?” he asked.
She felt her cheeks warm. She lowered her eyes and he cleared his throat.
“The night is young, and you look like you could use one.”
“Oh really?” she asked, raising her eyebrows up at him.
He chuckled. “Not that you look bad or anything, just annoyed with seeing Calvin. I know I had an additional drink as he spewed his bullshit,” he told her, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Not surprising,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as if to see if Calvin were still there. He made her feel sick, yet also not good enough.
“I’ll meet you by the bar,” he stated, and narrowed his eyes at her, making her get the feeling that the man was important and expected people to do as he said. She didn’t really drink anymore and was so distrusting.
“Is there a problem, Roberto?” Michelangelo asked, interrupting them. So the guy’s name was Roberto.
“I don’t think there is, unless Ms. Preston declines my invite for a drink.”
“Don’t be silly, of course she’ll stay and have a drink with you. Alessa,” Michelangelo said her name and raised both eyebrows at her as if in warning.
She stared at him. “Let me just change and grab my things.”
“Wonderful,” Roberto said, and smiled softly before walking away.
Michelangelo walked with Alessa.
“That’s Roberto Simi, a very wealthy, prominent business man. He also has investment in my restaurant, so please, Alessa, don’t piss him off. He can be extreme,” he told her, and then looked at her face for some sort of response in a strange way as she entered the kitchen.
She felt uneasy, and she had been out of the whole having a drink with a guy thing. She was actually more concerned over a drink being made for her than talking to the good looking older man. Were his two friends going to be there, too? Now she felt nervous.
As she gathered her things and reapplied some lip gloss, she checked out the very plain, white button down blouse she wore and the black hip hugger pants. The required dress code under the chef attire. She wasn’t wearing heels, just flat, good supporting shoes in black that she could wear walking here as well as working on her feet all night.
She said goodnight to everyone, and then headed out to the bar with her backpack and other bag. Romando stopped her on her way, just as the three men caught her heading their way and watched.
“Hey, got any plans Saturday night?” he asked her, surprising her.
She chuckled. “Are you kidding me? You know the hours I work.”
His gaze swept over her body then her face, and smiled softly. “You know what they say about all work and no play?” he asked.
She smirked. “Yeah, except I live in the realities of life. Have fun, whatever you do,” she said, and he squinted at her like she insulted him, but it was better to let him off like that then lead the guy on. She knew he had a thing for her, but he was younger by a couple of years and studying to be some sort of musician or something.
“My jazz band is playing at Oliva on Saturday night. You mentioned wanting to hear us, and I thought maybe you would stop by. I think some of the other staff are going after work.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll see if I have the energy for it. I’m always so tired.”
“You work another job right?” he asked, and she looked past him.
“Yes. I need to go over and have a drink with a customer.”
Romando looked back that way. “The big shots who had some business meeting or something? Man, those guys were intense. The other guy with the blonde was getting reamed out. They seem important and fierce. Be careful. They may be looking for some booty,” he teased and winked at her. As she started walking away he looked at her ass.
“Nice.”
She shook her head and dismissed his flirting like she did automatically now. When she looked up toward the bar, one of the men was standing, but all three looked pissed. She swallowed hard. As she approached she gave a smile and put her bags onto the empty chair.
Roberto was staring at Romando, giving him a dirty mean expression as he pressed his hand to her back and offered her a seat at the bar. It was weird, like he was jealous or pissed that Romando was flirting.
“I ordered wine, hope that is okay,” he said to her, and she looked at the glass, placing her hand over her belly. The thoughts of the night at the club and what she couldn’t remember hit her. A simple thing like a drink at the bar, a distraction and someone could put something in a woman’s drink and she wouldn’t know a thing.
“Is something wrong? You don’t like wine?” he asked.
She worried her bottom lip and then waved at the bartender, Paulo. He came over smiling. “Hi Alessa, what do you need?”
“Can you pour me a glass of wine?” she asked and he looked at the glass squinted and then nodded as he smiled. Her co-workers and bosses knew she had been drugged. She missed a couple of days of work and should have taken more time off but she needed the money. He passed her the glass of wine and she thanked him and then smiled.
Roberto looked at her strangely, but raised his glass, so did the other two men.
“To dessert,” he said, and she laughed and then they clinked glasses.
She took a sip of the very smooth wine. “Oh, this is delicious.”
“Good,” he said, holding her gaze. His buddy cleared his throat.
“Oh, how rude of me. Alessa, please meet my associates, Lane and Parker.”
She looked at the two men who reached out to shake her hand hello, their eyes swept over her. She smiled. “So nice to meet you. Did you gentleman enjoy dinner?” she asked and Roberto pulled out a stool for her to sit on. She did, and the moment her butt hit the seat she nearly moaned. Her legs were tired. The wine was delicious and if she drank the full glass she may have needed to take a taxi cab home and would have to suck up the costly fare.
“It was very good. We’ve never dined here before,” Roberto told her and stared at her face as if he were memorizing it.
“How long have you worked here?” Lane asked. She glanced up at him. The man had similar features as Roberto. Dark hair, a dusting of gray. They were older, though Parker seemed a little younger, or perhaps dyed his hair to hide the gray. She wasn’t sure.
“Two years now. It was supposed to be temporary,” she said and took another sip of wine.
Roberto moved closer to the bar and now his side tapped against hers. He was very attractive, very soft spoken, too.
“Temporary, why?” he asked.
“Well, my plan was to perfect my skills, get more experience under my belt before opening my own place, but things happened. I have college loans and other bills to pay.”
“Culinary school you mean?” Lane asked her.
She looked at him and Parker.
“Law school, actually,” she replied. Roberto widened his eyes.
“Really, so is that how you know Calvin?” he asked.
She looked away, feeling embarrassed. “Actually, we dated for quite some time.”
“No. Don’t tell me that. Jesus,” Lane said and shook his head.
“What? Why did you say that?” she asked, feeling uncomfortable and on alert.
“The guy is…”
“An asshole? Stuck up? A know it all?” she added. They laughed.
“Exactly. So how the hell did someone as gorgeous as you fall into his trap?” Roberto asked. She felt her cheeks warm.
“Family connections,” she said, and then took another sip of wine.
Roberto squinted. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“My family and his family all know one another. They wanted me to marry into the family, and become a lawyer like all the other people in my family, and like those in Calvin’s.”
“People still do that shit, huh?” Parker asked.
“You’d be surprised,” she replied.
“No, we wouldn’t be. I come from a family that would like the same thing. A bond, a business connection with certain people. Like you, I rebelled,” he said, completely grabbing her attention.
“What did you do?”
“That’s a long story. So tell me, did you not succeed in becoming a lawyer or did you quit to get back at your parents?”
“No, I wasn’t trying to get back at my parents. I just realized along the way that my desires, my goals, were different than theirs. I’ve always enjoyed baking, cooking, creating different recipes and things. I wanted to learn more difficult techniques and then create my own masterpieces. Law school didn’t give me that same desire and hunger I suppose.”
“So you dump Calvin and drop out of law school?” Lane asked.
“No.” She swallowed hard and the three men stared at her.
“Calvin cheated on me, I finished law school and passed the Bar but didn’t tell my parents I finished, they thought I dropped out. I pursued my other dream.”
“You should sound happier about it, but you’re not. Is it just because Calvin showed up here this evening and it’s been some time since you saw him, or did you make a mistake?” Roberto asked her straight out.
“I just think that life has a way of working itself out. I wouldn’t be happy as a lawyer and I certainly wouldn’t be happy as a naive wife to an adulterous husband.”
“I told you the guy was a fucking idiot,” Lane said to Roberto, who gave a very small smirk but his eyes were glued to Alessa’s.
“Life does have a way of working itself out, Alessa. It also connects people along the way that are meant to make a connection. Tell me more about your dreams. I want to know more about you.”
Her heart hammered inside of her chest. A thousand things swirled through her mind. Like: beware of charming, good looking, older men, especially ones with a connection to Calvin.
“I don’t think so, Roberto. In fact, I should get going. It’s going to take me a while to get home, and it’s late,” she said and slid off the bar stool. As she turned to place the glass of wine down, she felt a hand on her hip. Large, warm, firm. She turned toward Roberto, looking up into his blue eyes.
“I didn’t mean to offend you in any way.” He reached up and stroked her jaw. She lowered her eyes.
“I’m not offended,” she said and glanced up at him.
He licked his lower lip and combined with the scent of his cologne, the man’s sexy demeanor and she stared at him wondering why she was being such a scaredy cat when she was attracted to the guy. Flirt, have fun, I’m young and single. Then came thoughts of uncertainty, distrust, vulnerability, and insecurity about herself and whether she was good enough for anyone or anything.
“Don’t go yet. We’ll give you a ride home.”
She chuckled low. “I don’t think so,” she said, and then went to step to the side and he held her firmer.
“You’re different, stunning, naturally beautiful, and there’s just something about you, Alessa, that makes me want to learn more. Can I have your number? To call you and set something up?”
She battled between letting down her guard and taking a little chance here, and then her gut clenched and she felt insecure.
“I’m sorry, Roberto, but I really don’t have the time to get involved with anyone, and in all honesty, I had a bad experience and I’m still on guard in a lot of ways. It also seems that you’re doing business with Calvin, and that alone makes me feel uncomfortable, but again, thank you for the drink and for the compliment. Perhaps I’ll see you around.” She turned toward Lane and Parker.
“So nice meeting you. Have a safe ride home,” she said and smiled, then reached for her bags, waved goodnight to Paulo, and then headed out. As she glanced over her shoulder, the three men stared at her and Roberto looked intrigued or maybe annoyed. Had she just blown off the chance at a little excitement in her life? Oh well, too late, she thought as she headed out into the night and began to walk several blocks to the first bus stop. She glanced at her watch. She missed the bus by ten minutes. Now she needed to wait another fifteen minutes. She wondered what may have happened in there fifteen minutes from now.
A few months ago she would have engaged in conversation, seen where it led and maybe made plans to meet again. Not now. She was a different person, and her life felt as if it were unsettled and messy. She was just waiting, anticipating the worst. Maybe she should have become a lawyer? He gut clenched and tears hit her eyes as she stood by the bus stop waiting to begin her commute home. Was this all worth it? She was starting to not think so.
* * * *
“What do you think?” Lane asked Roberto and Parker as they walked out of the restaurant.
“I think there’s room to negotiate. Put Garcia on her. Find out where she lives, where she hangs out, and a schedule.”
“You’re going to try and bump into her again?” Parker asked.
“Definitely. She’s quite interesting. The moment I laid eyes on her, it was instant. Intrigue, attraction, those eyes. Didn’t you see them? They’re like a hazel and green, so stunning,” Roberto replied, getting into the back seat of the limo.
“What about her connection to Calvin? It could cause problems later if we need to eliminate him,” Lane said.
“It’s business, Roberto, and depending on how complicated this gets, she could get caught in the middle of something, then what?” Parker added. They were always looking out for him. His security, his good friends.
“Depends on her response to me, the outcome of the series of events, and this new business venture. Money is being made.”
“It sure is. What about that little problem from last night?” Parker asked.
“It was resolved and it isn’t our problem or responsibility. We’re doing what has to be done on our end. Calvin Froster is a scumbag attorney looking for the easy way. He’ll serve his purpose well. We remain anonymous and then the takeover of that block begins. Mark my words, no made men or organized crime families are going to continue to monopolize this city. There’s money to be made and we have the backing of someone pretty damn powerful people.”
“Yes, but Garcia is extreme when it comes to his ideas as well as his need for revenge,” Lane added.
“That’s his agenda. I have mine. Put someone on her and get me what I asked for earlier. By the weekend I’ll make another move.”