RUTHLESS KING

8 C.E.O AND KING

Luca
A new wave of anger rushes my veins as I stare at my reflection in the
fogged-up bathroom mirror. A scratch bisects my dark brow from my
encounter with that piece of shit, Bo, and a faint bruise is beginning to form
in the middle of my tattooed torso. I run my finger across my brow and
scowl. It better not scar. The last thing I need is a permanent reminder of
that asshole. I already have more than enough across my body.
The Red Dragons have gone unpunished for long enough. First, they
invade Little Italy, then they spread their venom across the Lower East
Side. It’s not even safe for a woman in the subways anymore.
My mind flickers back to the brunette at the station, and that unfamiliar
sensation tugs at my chest. There was something so familiar about her, but I
just can’t place the girl. She definitely wasn’t any of the women I associated
with. None of the models or socialites I casually dated would ever be
caught in a shitty subway station in Little Italy. So who was she? The
feeling was so insistent I’d had Tony call in more than a few favors until he
tracked her down from the name I’d gotten out of the destroyed textbook.
Then, I had him follow her to find out where she lived. I stare at the post-it note on the vanity. Stella M. 356 Mulberry St. The
heart of Little Italy. I knew a Stella once, but it had been nearly a decade
since I’d seen her. Bands tighten around my chest, and I draw in a haggard
breath. It couldn’t be her.
Mulberry Street wasn’t far from where I’d grown up actually. And a far
cry from my new penthouse in the Upper East Side. Old memories invade
my mind, and I’m tossed back in time.
“Come on kick the ball, Luca!”
“I’m planning my shot, bastardo, give me a second.” I dribble the
soccer ball between my feet, eyeing my friend as he blocks the goal.
“Hurry up, those prep school kids could come out any minute.” He
glances over his shoulder at Cambridge Prep.
We’d ditched school and taken the subway to the Upper East Side for a
little fun. “What’s the matter, Vinny, you scared of a little tussle?”
“Course not. I’d just rather not piss off Dad. Sometimes he takes it out
on me or Stella. He hasn’t been in the best mood since—”
His words cut off, and I wished I’d kept my big mouth shut. It had only
been a couple months since my best friend lost his mom. Idiot. Papà’s right,
I am a cretino.
I curl my knee back, and my foot explodes forward. The ball sails
toward the net. Vinny leaps to the right, but it flies right between his hands.
“Gol! Gol!” I shout. “Forza, Italia!”
Vinny pushes himself off the ground, a scowl on his pretty boy face.
“Lucky shot.”
I jump at him, throwing my arm around his shoulders. It’s rare I get one
past him. The kid is a soccer superstar. I’d never admit it, but he was even
better than me. “Luck had nothing to do with it, my friend. Now, come on,
I’ll buy you a beer at O’Shea’s.” He eyes me incredulously, those pale blue eyes shimmering in
excitement. “How?”
I reach into my back pocket and pull out my newest prized possession.
One of Papà’s new hires is a counterfeiting genius. Money, IDs, checks, you
name it, and he can forge it.
Vinny’s eyes are so wide they’re a second from popping out of his head.
“I want one too.”
“Stick with me, kid, and maybe one day you’ll have one.” I toss him a
smirk and lead the way off the field. He races behind me like an overeager
puppy.
My heart clenches as the memories fade away. Dio, I hadn’t allowed myself
to think about my childhood friend in ages. My gaze refocuses on the
familiar address, and I force the old, painful images to the back of my mind.
Who still lived in Little Italy anyway? I’d moved Mamma out of there when
I made my first hundred grand. Then after my first million, I bought her a
house in the suburbs, away from the hustle of the city and a safe distance
from my life.
“You ready, capo?” Tony’s voice seeps through the door.
“No,” I grit out. “If I was ready, would I still be in here?” It’s my own
damned fault for having a bathroom built into my office, but in my line of
work, sometimes a shower in the middle of the day is necessary. And today,
after the gym, I definitely needed it.
“Sorry, Luca,” he mutters. Tony’s a good guy, just not the most
perceptive at times. He’ll stand beside me until the very end, do anything to
protect me. He’s an old family friend and as loyal as they come.
I reach for the shirt and clean suit hanging from the back of the door and
spear my hand through the sleeve. The five numbers scrawled within the
crowned skull tattoo across my chest draw my eye. After the unexpected rise of old memories this morning, I can’t tear my gaze away from it.
Shaking my head, I button up my shirt and bury my past.
To distract myself, I focus on the yellow note taped to the vanity. Maybe
I’ll drop off the new textbook myself. It’s been so long since I’ve visited my
old neighborhood, it could be nice. At the very least, I could grab some
cannoli from Nonna Maria’s and remind those bastard Red Dragons who
controls Little Italy.
Yes, that’s what I’ll do.
I slip on my favorite cufflinks, the gilded crowns bringing a smile to my
face. Mamma always used to call me her piccolo principe, her little prince.
Now I was all grown up, and I was the king, or rather the C.E.O. of King
Industries.
With one last glance in the mirror, I adjust my black tie and slip the note
into my pocket. I whip the door open and the frosty air from my office
mingles with the fog from the hot shower. Tony eyes me, quirking a brow.
“You know, boss, they say cold showers are best for the circulation.”
“My circulation is just fine, thanks.” I spend enough hours at the gym to
ensure that. It’s the only way to relieve the stress. Well, there are other ways
of course, but that involves dating and with my schedule, it’s difficult. Case
and point: Caroline. I’d rather keep my interaction with women casual, sex
without strings.
Marching to my desk, I glance over the leather chair to Park Avenue and
the sprawling city below. Once I’d constructed my empire, only the best
office space would do. I’d crawled my way up from the bottom and built
everything from scratch. Papà, God rest his soul, had been in the canned
tomato business back in Italy. He had a decent brand, but when he died, the
company crumbled. I did my best to keep us afloat, but I was only a kid
back then. I quickly learned that money wasn’t in the tomatoes, but rather
the machinery. Before long, I’d developed the most high-tech equipment out there and sold it to every cannery in the U.S. Now King Industries had
their hand in just about every production plant out there.
Sure, I’d made some enemies along the way, but that was the nature of
the business. And that’s what I had Tony for. He runs my other enterprises.
I settle into my chair and glance up at my friend. “So, what’s the status
on the new project?”
“Not good, I’m afraid.” He scrapes at the thick, dark scruff on his chin.
“The commissioner is blocking our petition for the gambling cruise.”
“Didn’t you speak to him?”
He nods. “He’s not interested in the money.”
I scoff. Everyone is interested in money. He must be getting greased by
another player. “Show him the pictures of him and his mistress. I’m sure
that’ll interest him.”
“Will do, boss.” He glances at his phone, scanning the notifications and
scowls. “What about that asshole from Meatpacking that owes you for last
month’s shipment?”
“Take him to the pawn shop. If he won’t pay with money, he’ll pay with
his damned blood.”
“Right-o, I’ll get Eddie on it.” He scrolls across the screen and glances
up again. “And that debt Jianjun offered you to acquire?”
“Yeah, let’s go ahead and take him up on that.”
“Good, that’s it for me then.” Tony ticks his head at the textbook at the
end of my desk. “I’ll drop the book off after I visit the old man?”
I reach for the Economics book and shake my head. “Nah, I’ll take care
of this. I’ve been meaning to take a walk in the old hood.”
His dark eyes chase up to my brow, and his lips twist. “You sure you
want to risk a run-in with the Red Dragons again?”
“I’m itching for it, Tony.” My fingers clench into tight fists. A light
purple hue darkens my knuckles. It’s been a while since I’ve handled my
own dirty work, but damn, did it feel good today. “Behave yourself, Signor Valentino.” Clara pokes her head in without
knocking.
If I didn’t love my assistant like a second mother, I would’ve chewed
her head off. No one comes into my office without warning. It is essential to
my business.
She saunters in, swinging her hips like she’s some diva. In an office full
of males, she knows she runs the place. “Don’t you think one fight is
enough for a day?” Her warm brown eyes lock on the cut across my brow.
I shoot Tony a narrowed gaze. “Is nothing private around here?”
He shrugs, a sheepish smile crossing his lips. He’s about a decade over
my twenty-seven years, but we all know who’s the boss around here. Clara.
“Luca, you know very well if I don’t keep your mother apprised of the
situation, she’ll come down here herself.”
“Oofa, that’s the last thing I need, especially with this shit with the Red
Dragons going down.” My mamma is the love of my life, but for her safety,
I keep her out of my business. She has little knowledge of my back-alley
enterprises.
“Damned Dragons are trying to take over the docks again. Phil just
called, and they’ve offered him twice what we’re paying.”
“Merda,” I mutter. “Are the Red Dragons still operating out of that
shitty restaurant in Chinatown?”
Tony nods. “Jianjun will be there, likely with the other members of the
Chinese Triad. I wouldn’t just swing by alone, capo. Especially if you want
to keep things on the up and up with the new debt acquisition.”
I crack my knuckles, the slight bruises sending a twinge up my hands. “I
can handle myself, old friend.”
“I know you can, but we wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty little face
of yours.”
I can’t help but grin. Tony’s like the big brother I never had. My
biological older brother is an ass so we’re not exactly close. “All those hot models will stop coming by if you ugly up that mug.”
“And you won’t get any of my sloppy seconds.” I shoot him a wicked
grin.
“Hey, I’m not complaining, Luca. No way any of those gorgeous
models would look at me otherwise.” He laughs, his broad shoulders
bouncing.
“Oh, you two, smettila! Stop it. The way you treat those women, really,
Luca, your mamma would just die if she knew.”
I cock my head at my executive assistant. “I’m perfectly honest with
every woman I meet, Clara. When they approach me, as is most often the
case, I am very direct with what to expect. I’m not tricking these women
into my bed. They know very well I’m not interested in dating or
relationships.”
She claps her hand over her chest and sighs dramatically. “What a waste
of perfect genes. Who will continue the Valentino bloodline?”
“There’s still Dante, don’t forget.”
Clara rolls her eyes. “Che peccato, the Valentinos are doomed.” I’m not
the only one who thinks my brother is an idiot. It’s the reason why I sit atop
the throne of the Kings empire instead of him. When Papà died, everyone
assumed Dante would take the role, but he never stepped up. So, I did what
I had to.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” The woman is a total drama queen but she’s
smart as a fox. “With all the shit going on in this world today, bringing
another life into it would only be selfish.”
“Maybe, you’re right, Luca. But it wouldn’t hurt to have an intelligent,
attractive woman at your side when you attend all these important galas.”
“And it would keep all the other hungry ladies off you,” Tony adds.
Hmm. They’re not wrong. Perhaps I’ll look into a high-end escort
service, just for the company, not the sex. If it’s all business, it would keep
things simple. “Speaking of hungry ….” Clara hands me the manila folder tucked to
her chest. “Sister Margarita just called from the orphanage. They’re in
desperate need of a new roof. It would be a good tax write off for the
company.”
“How much is that going to be?” Tony blurts.
My assistant’s brows knit as she stares at the figures from over my
shoulder. “About eighteen grand.”
Tony lets out a low whistle.
“Take some of the money from the gambling boat project and siphon it
over,” I reply as I hand her the folder.
“You’re kidding me, Luca,” my friend barks. “We need that money to
pay off the state’s gaming commission.”
“Get it from somewhere else.”
“But—”
I throw my hand up cutting him off. “Get. It. Somewhere. Else.” I
punctuate each word with ice. “Those kids deserve a decent place to live.
End of story.”
Clara throws me a beaming smile, and my frosty heart thaws. There’s so
much bad in this world, hell, I’ve done so many bad things, when I get the
chance to do some good, I’ve got to take it. I have to tip the balance on the
scales in my direction at least a little, right?
I reach for the textbook on the corner of my desk and rise. “I’m going to
Little Italy. I’ll be back later.”
Tony rushes behind me. “You sure you don’t want me to come?”
“No. I need that cruise project back on schedule. Go take care of the
commissioner first, and we’ll meet up later.”
“Got it, capo.”
I’m going to do my own digging about the first woman that has truly
intrigued me in years, and I need to go alone.