RUTHLESS KING

9 AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER

Luca
“I want him out of the picture, Mario,” I growl into my phone at the
small table I’ve commandeered in front of Nonna Maria’s Pasticceria.
A waitress drops a plate of cannoli in front of me with a clatter. I glance
up and meet a barely discernible face covered in a white cap and dark
oversized sunglasses, wisps of raven hair spilling from beneath the hat. Her
pretty pink lips are curved into a capital O, likely at my outburst on the
phone. I clear my throat and amend my tone as I continue the conversation,
and she sets the small cup of espresso beside the plate.
“Sorry,” I mouth.
She nods, keeping her head down. My eyes lift to the bright red
nametag. Stella. A whisper of a childhood memory flickers to the surface.
That name seems to be following me everywhere lately.
Mario continues to squeal like a pig on the slaughtering line, but my
attention is fixed on the curvy brunette who refuses to meet my eye. I
certainly don’t consider myself conceited, but the ladies tend to react a
certain way around me, but this one, niente. Nothing.
I reach for the espresso, and my hand grazes hers as she drops a heap of
napkins. A faint gasp parts her lips, and my dick twitches at the sexy sound. Images of those lips wrapped around my hard cock flash across my mind.
What the hell? I blink quickly as heat streaks low beneath my belt.
I open my mouth to say something as she regards me with what I can
only assume is a matching expression of surprise. I’ve never had such a
primal reaction to a woman. She spins away, but my hand captures her
wrist, fingers closing around her soft skin before she can get away. “Wait,” I
mumble.
Her gaze darts over my shoulder, and her hand trembles beneath my
touch. I follow her line of sight to a pair of shadows creeping in the
adjacent alley. Damned Red Dragons, like rats infiltrating every corner of
my city.
“Let go,” she hisses and wriggles free of my hold. There’s something so
familiar about her voice.
I want to stop her, find out who she is, but she darts back into the
pasticceria before I can get another word out.
Tony strolls up, and I force the odd encounter with the waitress to the
back of my mind and swallow another bite of the cannolo before whatever
my enforcer has to say ruins my appetite. “It’s done, capo.”
Clearing my head, I focus on the matter at hand. “How did Jianjun take
it?”
My old friend grabs a chair from a nearby table, the sharp squeal of
wrought iron against asphalt making my teeth itch, and he sinks into the
tiny thing. The man’s a beast, dwarfing the small chair. “Not great, but not
bad.” He eyes the empty plate between us and sticks his finger in his mouth
then swipes it clean of the remaining powdered sugar.
I shake my head, barely suppressing a smile.
“It was a fair deal. And to be honest, we’re better equipped for dealing
with repayment of small debts. Honestly, I don’t know why they assumed it
in the first place.” “It was probably his idiot son, Bo,” I snarl. My fingers jump up to the
scratch across my brow then flashes of our altercation on the subway
platform race across my mind. And that girl….
I almost knocked on her door when I went to drop off the book. To what
end, I had no idea. Somehow, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. I’d
stopped myself before doing something rash and left the textbook on the
welcome mat, but I couldn’t help myself from leaving that stupid note. A
hint of a smile curls the corners of my lips.
And then I could’ve sworn I saw her again when I was leaving the Red
Dragon. And now the waitress? Why did she seem familiar? Was I losing
my mind?
“Why are you smiling, boss?”
I bring the espresso to my lips, smothering the grin. “Was I? I’ll have to
stop that. We wouldn’t want any members of the Triad thinking I’ve gone
soft.”
He follows my gaze over his shoulder and catches the two figures in the
shadows of the alleyway up the street. Squinting, he turns back and mutters
a curse. “Who is it now?”
“Pretty sure it’s Bo and his cousin. They’re probably waiting for an
opportune moment to get their revenge.”
“Clara was right, Luca. You gotta be careful.”
“I don’t give two shits about those bastardi. Let them try to come for
me in public. I’ll have Jones on their ass for assaulting the C.E.O. of King
Industries.”
Tony chuckles. “That lawyer of yours sure is a shark.”
“He’s worth every penny, amico.” I tip back the cup and finish off the
espresso. Mmm, just like Mamma makes it. This alone made my trip to
Little Italy worth it. “Speaking of pennies, Tony, make sure you and the
guys get all these new loans squared away. You know the drill.”
“Will do, Luca.” I stand and throw a fifty on the table. Tony eyes the bill, his dark irises
widening. “It’s for the waitress, not you, stronzo.”
He chuckles and licks the remaining powdered sugar off the plate. “I
would never.”
I toss him a twenty, shaking my head. “Do yourself a favor and go buy a
dozen cannoli for you and the guys so you can stop lapping up my leftovers
like a mongrel. It’ll make your job a little sweeter.”
“Thanks, boss, you’re the best.” He shoots me a smirk, and I drop my
sunglasses from my head down to settle atop my nose.
I consider going into the café to search for the waitress but pitch the
crazy thought out before I do something stupid. There’s a reason I don’t
date. Sticking to my rules is critical to my life and my line of work.
As I march down Mulberry, burning glares sear into the side of my face.
Make your move, figlio di putana. I dare you. Neither Bo nor his chicken-
shit cousin take a step from out of the shadows. Hiding like cowardly rats.
The train doors slide open, and I draw in a breath of fresh air, the tension
immediately seeping from my taut shoulder blades. This is exactly why I
moved Ma out of the city. A quick thirty-minute ride on the Metro North
and the chaos of the surging metropolis is nothing but a distant memory.
Shrugging off my jacket, I bypass the line of taxis and opt to walk the
fifteen-minute stroll today. I skipped the gym to deal with Bo myself today
and without it, I have extra energy to burn. My visit to Mamma’s this
afternoon is two-fold: it’s the anniversary of King Industries so I’ve come
to surprise her with a gift, and I’m checking out an investment property for
myself. There’s too much money coming into my other businesses, and I
need a way to divest.
Plus, Ma will be ecstatic when I tell her we’ll be neighbors again. The stroll goes by quickly with my fevered pace. The tickets are
burning a hole in my jacket pocket. I owe everything I’ve become to my
mother, but she’s so proud and stubborn, she never lets me spoil her.
There’s no way she’ll pass this up though.
I practically sprint up the stone walkway once I reach the quaint two-
story home. With roughhewn gray stone walls, pristine white siding and a
small porch, it’s a modest house, but it was the most Mamma would allow
me to spend on her.
Before I reach the last step, the aroma of roasted garlic and tomatoes
wafts over me. My stomach rumbles despite the cannoli from only an hour
ago. Nothing beats Mamma’s cooking.
“Ciao, Mamma!” I shout as I walk in. She always leaves the door
unlocked, something that we fight over constantly.
“Luca, sei tu? Ma cosa fai qui?” A huge smile lights up her face as she
races from the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” Flour powders her
cheek and dark hair, the pungent scent emanating off her housedress in
thick waves. “Che bella sorpresa.”
“Yeah, great surprise.” A familiar voice echoes from beyond the narrow
hallway.
My gaze lifts to my brother’s, and my pleasant mood sours instantly.
“What are you doing here, Dante?”
“Just came to see Ma. And you?”
“Same.”
“Che piacere to have both of my sons home.” She moves between us,
lacing an arm through each of ours and tugs us to the kitchen. La cucina
was always the heart of our home; it didn’t matter the size. Even when we
lived in that tiny walk-up off Mott Street, we’d all crowd around the crappy
table and eat, drink, and laugh.
Dante used to be semi-decent back then. I eye my brother as we sit
around the table, and Ma goes back to making her homemade fettucine. An old Frank Sinatra number plays in the background, and my mother begins to
hum as she works.
"Why’d you really come?” I whisper to my brother. “Out of money
again?”
“Fuck you, Luca. It’s not like that. I just came to see her like I said. It’s
a special day.” He jabs his fingers through his wild hair, eyes narrowing.
Though we share the dark brown coloring of our mother’s hair, Dante’s is a
touch curlier than mine which has a soft natural wave. My brother always
hated those tight curls, typically choosing to buzz them off. Right now,
they’re longer than I’ve seen them in a while. Which leads me to believe
there’s something going on.
Dark circles line his eyes, the whites bloodshot. A twinge of pity rattles
my insides. After Papà died, Dante took to drinking and dabbled in some
hardcore drugs. I thought it was all in the past.
“If you need something I can help you,” I offer on a frustrated exhale.
“Nah, I don’t need nothing from you, Luca.”
Clearing my throat, I sit up and reach for the jacket slung over my chair.
“Ma, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
She puts down the pasta dough, wipes her hands and saunters closer,
swaying her hips to the Frankie classic. “What surprise, figlio mio?”
“I don’t know if you remember, but today is the anniversary of Re
Industries. Papà started the business fifty years ago.”
“Don’t you mean King Industries?” Dante hisses.
I renamed the business when I took over, translating from the original
Italian. “It’s still Papà’s company.”
“Right.”
“Anyway,” I pull the tickets from my jacket pocket and hand them to
her. “I’m taking you to Italy in the summer. We’ll stay in Naples for a few
days then go to Capri and Ischia. Just like old times.” Dante snorts on a laugh. “Yeah, like old times? When could we have
ever afforded a villa in Capri?”
“Dante, basta,” Ma snaps. “Your father gave us everything he could. It’s
because of him that we are living in this country today. He risked
everything to bring us here, and your brother has worked hard to continue
that legacy.”
He scoffs again, and my fingers curl into my palm, fingernails digging
into the skin. “I’m the eldest, I should have assumed that role.”
“So why didn’t you?” I bark and shoot up looming over my brother. “I
didn’t ask to take over the family business. No one else stepped up.”
“You’re deluded, Luca.”
“Vaffanculo, Dante.”
He leaps up and the chair flies out from under him, skidding across the
kitchen.
“Basta! Enough!” Mamma cries. “We will not fight today. It is a day of
celebration, of good memories. Papà loved you both very much, and I know
how proud he was of his two boys. So please, no more.” She takes the
tickets from my hand, and a rueful smile curls her lips. “This is too
generous, Luca. I cannot accept it.”
“Mamma!” I press them back into her chest. “This is a gift, and it’s non-
refundable. I already bought the two tickets, booked the villas, rented the
car, and I have no one else to take.”
“How about Concetta’s daughter, Gianna? Weren’t you dating for a
while?”
I barely suppress a grunt. Ma set me up with her neighbor’s daughter a
few months ago, and I took her out one night in the city out of obligation.
I’d wanted to end it at dinner, but she insisted on going back to her place.
She practically threw herself at me. Like always, I’d been very clear on my
rather specific sexual preferences. She’d been more than happy to oblige
after hearing my rules. I was shocked honestly.
But then she failed to obey rule number one. One night only.
She’d become that desperate, needy, clingy girl. She texted, called, even
showed up at my penthouse one night. Since she was a friend of Mamma’s I
didn’t want to be rude, but merda she was persistent.
“We never really dated, Ma,” I finally grumble. “It was one date.”
“There has to be someone, figlio mio. I don’t want to die without the joy
of ever hearing my grandchildren’s laughter.”
Dio, Mamma knew how to lay it on thick. Unbidden, my thoughts
flicker to the waitress at Nonna Maria’s again. Those pink pouty lips, the
shot of electricity that went right to my dick when her hand grazed mine …
Shit, where did that come from?
“Yeah, right, Ma.” Dante chuckles. “Who’d put up with all of Luca’s
rules?”
I shoot my brother a glare. The last thing I need is my mother getting
into my sex life. No, keeping it casual with women was the safest bet for all
involved.