Page 4 of Betrayed By the Mafia

“She’s become rather infamous,” he says casually, almost as though he’s trying to stoke the fire he’s apparently trying to put out. “She apparently rules the West Coast with an iron fist.”

“Nonsense. After what happened, Alessandro wouldn’t put that much faith in her. She works for Pierce. That’s all it is. Pierce runs the West Coast between being a playboy. Also, she’s younger. She wouldn’t be above Pierce. At most, she’s a glorified secretary.”

Ivan simply looks at me, but he doesn’t look confident. He sighs, though, and moves to stand up.

I also stand as he says, “You get home. I’m going to spend some time with my wife. Keep me updated on this. I want to make sure this deal doesn’t go south.”

“Another kingdom for Romy to rule,” I say happily.

Ivan shakes his head. “Stop calling him Romy. His name is Roman.”

I shrug. “It’s my special name for him. As Godfather, I should have a special calling card for my little king.”

Ivan laughs as we go out together. “Also, stop calling him a King. He’s going to develop a big head. I want to raise someone humble, smart, and business minded.”

“As you wish,” I smile. “I doubt I’ll stop, though. I make no promises. See you tomorrow.”

“Do svidaniya, Evgenii,” he turns toward the living area of the house, away from his office.

“Do svidaniya, Pakhan,” I say, turning to leave.

I wave at the guards to open the gate before I climb into my Ferrari. Cars—one thing Italians definitely did right. I speed out of the property and quickly join the flow of traffic to my beachside house.

Once there, I leave my car for my men to park and take the manila folder inside, holding onto it tightly. I set it on my desk and sit down, looking at it for what feels like too long. I can’t resist. I pull out the photo of Shirley. If possible, she’s even more beautiful than I remember her.

I trace the photo, admiring her straight hair falling forward because she’s looking down. I don’t think she looks very confident, and I doubt she’ll be a problem. Still, it would be a good idea to monitor her. You should never underestimate your competition.

I think about it for a few minutes before I make my final decision. I’m going to worm my way back into her personal space so that I can find out what she’s negotiating. I’ll have to pay people to spy on the other families, but if Shirley is as emotional and impulsive as she once was, she may just let me back in, giving me a lead on our main competition.

I set the photo in the drawer of my desk and go out to the deck. I pour myself a small glass of vodka and sit outside. The sun has set, and the solar lights surrounding my pool and backyard garden have turned on. I sit lost in thoughts of a dark-haired girl years ago.

Chapter 3 - Shirley

I’m about to walk into the dining room the morning after I arrive when I spot Dominic coming through the front door.

“Dom-Dom,” I declare, rushing to hug him.

“Little Shirls,” he gushes. “How’s the West Coast treating you?” He hugs me tightly and then lets me go.

“Are you here for breakfast?” I ask.

“Kinda,” he grins. “I’m taking you out for breakfast. I want to catch up. I’ve cleared it with everyone, so grab what you need, and let’s get going.”

“Bistro?” I ask with a grin.

He nods. “You know it.”

I grab my purse and sunglasses and follow him out to his car. I slip into the passenger side and buckle in. As we pull off, I glance around the area, pensive.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dominic asks.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just checking out the neighborhood,” I comment.

We arrive at the bistro, and Dominic opens my door for me. I flash him a mischievous grin. “Thank you, kind sir.”

I breathe in that rough New York air, masked slightly by the delicious food smells wafting out of the family bistro. We walk inside, and I see Kira standing just outside the kitchen, talking to the hostess. She sees me, and her face lights up. She hurries over and gives me a tight hug. “Shirls! I’m so happy to see you.”

“You look fabulous, Kira. Being a married mom-chef suits you.” I kiss both her cheeks.

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