Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
"If you were looking for some lily-livered beta, Mina, coming into an MC compound was likely not your smartest move."
"I wasn't looking for any kind of man," she said, slanting those fucking hypnotic hazel eyes at me for the barest of seconds. "I was doing a job. I am trying to do a job. You are just trying to..."
"Get you hot and sweaty and naked underneath me?"
She actually snorted a bit at that, likely not expecting it, and I got to see her rare smile light up her profile. "I was going to say mix business and pleasure."
"That's what I said too. But with a better visual," I said, smiling too as we pulled down the path toward the marina where Famiglia was situated- a dark blue building sitting on stilts out of the water with a giant deck I had yet to sit on and have a meal or a drink. Lived in the town for years and still barely saw the sights.
Out of all of the guys at the compound, I probably knew the Grassi family the least. I knew of them. I knew how their business operated. But I had maybe only exchanged a handful of words with them over the many years I had been around. We just didn't brush elbows much.
There was a hierarchy of criminals just like any type of society. Drug dealers, gangs, pimps, all that shit was at the very bottom. Then, somewhere around the middle, you had your arms dealers and cartels and the underground gambling and whatnot. Higher up, you had your established syndicates: the mob in all its varieties- Italian, Russian, Irish, etc.
So the Grassi family with their docks and their old school Italian mob values, were a couple rungs above us arms-dealing bikers. They dressed, acted, and socialized as such. You didn't exactly run across Luca or Matteo at Chaz's on a Friday night.
Hell, as we climbed out of the car and I looked around, I actually felt no small ping of discomfort going into Famiglia in my jeans, boots, white tee, and leather cut. Mina, fucking knockout she was, looked similarly uncomfortable as we walked toward the doors. It was the kind of place you wore a suit or at least dress shirt or a little black dress.
But we weren't dining. And the restaurant wasn't even open yet.
"Henchmen?" the doorman asked, brows drawing together.
"Renny," I nodded. "And this is Mina, from Hailstorm. We need to talk to Antony and Luca."
"You know," Mina said when he nodded and moved inside to find his bosses, "I think that guy used to be a big shot in Notre Dame."
"Big college football fan?" I asked, surprised.
"Do I look like a big college football fan?" she shot back with a smirk. "No. I'm not much for sports, but I live in a place full of men. I can't go anywhere without overhearing some kind of sport conversation. But I'm telling you, that guy was a Fighting Irish."
"Go on in," the door guy said as he moved back outside to his post.
I reached for the door and held it open for her. She moved to step inside then stopped and turned to the guy. "Did you blow out your knee or were you kicked for performance drugs?"
The guy's brow rose slowly, a smile pulling at his lips. "Knee. Ruined my chances at pro. Woulda went all the way too."
Mina looked at me, brow lifted in a very 'told you so' way before she went inside.
"Thanks a lot, man," I said, chuckling. "Like she needed a bigger ego than she's already got."
"Nah, she's a marshmallow inside," he surprised me by saying. "Get past the tough outer layer and it's all sickening sweet. Antony doesn't like being kept waiting, man," he reminded me and I nodded and moved inside.
"Renny!" Antony called as I walked up to where Mina was already standing with the two men. Antony, either thanks to owning a restaurant and therefore needing to be hospitality friendly or because he was just like that naturally, greeted most people like they were old friends. Apparently that included me. "How is everyone holding up?" he asked, eyes grave, understanding a loss as big as ours.
"We're ready for it to stop," I said and he nodded. "Luca," I greeted, inclining my chin to him.
It didn't exactly escape me that Mina's eyes lingered on him for a long minute either. If she had a type, and most people did, apparently Luca with his tall, dark, and handsome was hers.
"So what brings you here today?" Antony went on, gesturing toward the table we were all standing near and pulling out a chair for Mina himself. If there was one thing the Grassi family had, aside from shittons of money, a great reputation in the community despite their illegal endeavors, and good looks, it was impeccable manners.