Chapter Five

~ Anthony ~

I felt as if I was walking to my doom as we headed inside the large apartment building. I could name a hundred other places off the top of my head I'd prefer being right now. A meeting with a mafia boss was not one of them.

I never even considered putting it on the list.

I should have.

My jaw dropped when we entered the lobby. It was done in the style of the roaring twenties, with golds, creams, and blacks mixed in with art deco accents. It was very tastefully done. A little high end for me, but I applauded the designer.

We were met by four guards before we could take more than a few steps. I knew they were guards. They were wearing the same stupid black suits as my guards.

When one of them started walking toward me, I took a hasty step back.

"It's okay, sir," Vito said. "He's just doing his job."

As what? A Mack truck?

I saw one of the other guards start patting Vito down before moving on to the two guards with us. When the guy reached for me, I slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me." I snapped.

"I have to pat you down before you can see Mr. Borelli."

I snorted very rudely. "Not unless you buy me dinner first."

A little flush filled the man's face before he said, "Sir—"

"No!" No one was touching me without my permission. I unbuttoned my suit jacket and held it up out of the way before turning in a full circle. "See? No gun."

I was not a threat to anyone.

The guy grimaced. "Please follow me."

I rebuttoned my suit jacket as we followed behind the guy, steeping onto the elevator. He pulled out a laminated card, waving it over a sensor built into the panel.

"How far up are we going?"

"The express elevator goes right to the penthouse, sir," the guard replied.

I really needed to stop watching mafia movies because everything I'd seen in the past said mobsters did business in low lit dingy bars and rickety old warehouses. Not fancy glass and cement buildings.

When the elevator stopped, the doors slid open to a small lobby with double doors. The lobby had the same design look at the main lobby on the first floor, but that was where it ended. The penthouse was all modern.

We were met by three more guards in dark suits the moment we stepped off the elevator. It was clear by the bulges under their suits that they felt we were a threat. It didn't help that we had only been allowed to bring Boris and one other guard with us. I would have felt a lot calmer if we had more security.

Never thought I'd think that.

One of the guards stepped forward and gave me a bow. "Good afternoon, Mr. D'Angelo. My name is Marco. I'm Mr. Borelli's assistant. He's waiting for you in the living room. Please, come this way."

We were led through the double doors to the most astounding room I was pretty sure I had ever been in. The ceilings were twenty feet tall. There was a large entryway in the middle of one wall with a fireplace on either side.

Directly across from that was a wall of windows and large folding doors that led out to a large balcony that overlooked the river. The room was large enough to hold two separate seating areas with a grand piano in the middle.

I was so busy looking around I didn't notice the man standing by one of the couches until he chuckled. I felt a flush heat my cheeks as I schooled my features.

"Good afternoon, Mr. D'Angelo," the tall imposing man said. "I am Vincenzo Borelli, the caporegime of the Borelli family, but please, call me Vinnie."

I knew I had to play nice with this man even if I technically outranked him. I walked over and shook his hand. "Anthony D'Angelo." I turned and gestured to Vito. "This is Vittorio Antonelli, my underboss."

"Vittorio?" Vinnie smiled. "I have a cousin named Vittorio. Do you go by Vito?"

"I do, sir," Vito answered.

"Very good." Vinnie gestured to the couches. "Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything? A drink? Some coffee?"

"Coffee would be fine," Vito replied. "Thank you."

I'd rather have a drink, but I didn't mention that. I suspected getting tipsy around a rival mafia don was not a good idea.

Vinnie snapped his fingers and one of the guards walked away. Marco, as he had introduced himself, took up a position behind Vinnie. When I glanced back, Boris had done the same thing with me.

All the testosterone in the room was giving me a headache.

"I hope you don't mind," Vito started, "as Mr. D'Angelo is new to this world, I will be speaking on his behalf today."

I swallowed tightly when Vinnie's eyes pinned on me.

"Is this okay with you, Mr. D'Angelo?"

"For now," I answered honestly. "I have a lot to catch up on."

Vinnie sent me a small smile. "My advice? Run as far and as fast as you can."

My eyebrows shot up. "Run?"

"I grew up in the life so I'm used to it," Vinnie explained. "You haven't and there is no learning curve here. If you get it wrong, you die."

Yeah, that was reassuring.

Not.

"I'm afraid it's too late for that, Mr. Borelli."

"Vinnie, please," he corrected me.

"I prefer Tony," I countered. "My understanding is that I am the only one that can take the position as head of the D'Angelo family and it beats working three jobs and living in a studio apartment."

I wasn't sure if my villa in Italy was anything like this place, but it had to be better than my craptastic apartment.

"There's a strong possibility that whoever took out the family will come for me next, so I doubt I'll have the position for long. Still, having a few days off from working three jobs would be worth it."

Getting more than four hours of sleep would be worth it. Pretty sure I'd have a heart attack if I slept through the night, so one way or the other I was probably going to die.

"Vinnie?"

I turned when someone called out from behind me. A slim chestnut haired man was walking into the room, a big smile on his face. A guard walked behind him, several bags in his hands.

I watched him walk right up to Vinnie and then bend down to plant kiss on his lips. My eyebrows shot up. I know I got most of my mafia knowledge from movies, but my understanding was that you couldn't be gay in the mob.

"Did you bankrupt me?" Vinnie asked as he took the black credit card the young man held out to him.

"Tried to," the man replied. "You have a few dollars left."

It wasn't until he plopped down on the couch next to Vinnie that I got a good look at his face and realized he looked vaguely familiar. I just couldn't place him.

"Tony?" the man asked.

I squinted at him. "Do I know you?"

"Tequila sunrise with a handful of cherries."

When it clicked, I burst out laughing. "You know, no one orders that drink like that except you."

"You two know each other?" Vinnie asked.

"Tony was the bartender at my favorite bar," Nicky replied. "Although, I haven't seen him there for awhile."

"I stopped bartending there a year ago," I stated. "I got another job."

Or two or three.

Nicky frowned for a moment, glancing between me and Vinnie. "What are you doing here?"

Yeah, about that...

"It seems I'm the new head of the D'Angelo family. I'm here to pay my respects to Vinnie before we fly to Italy."

"When did this happen?" Nicky asked.

"Yesterday."

Nicky's eyes rounded. "Dude!"

I shrugged. "It is what it is."

"But you're the boss," Nicky said. "The big boss. Vinnie isn't even the big boss. His grandfather is."

And I imagined that I'd have to visit and pay my respects to Vinnie's grandfather once we arrived in Italy. I hoped he was as pleasant as Vinnie seemed.

I doubted it.

"Maybe once you get your feet under you," Vinnie began, "we can sit down and discuss a shipping contract. I've recently expanded some of my business to Asia and need a good import and export company that can get my merchandise where it needs to go and on time. The one I was using recently...uh...went out of business."

There was a story there. I could feel it.

I wasn't going to ask.

"Why don't you give me a call once you're settled and we can talk?" Vinnie suggested.

I glanced at Vito, who nodded at me. "I will," I told Vinnie as I looked back at him. "It'll probably be a couple of weeks, though. I've got a lot to catch up on."

My head was starting to ache already thinking about it. I wasn't sure what all I had to learn, but Vito seemed to think it was important, and even Vinnie had hinted at it, but I knew it was going to drive me insane.

Or drive me to drink.

I really wished I'd asked for a drink instead of coffee.

Vito stood and then gestured to me. "We should probably get going," he said. "We just wanted to touch base with you since we were in town, but we need to head to the airport."

"Yes, of course." Vinnie stood and then shook Vito's hand.

I quickly stood up to join him, shaking the hand Vinnie held out to me. "It was nice meeting you." I also shook Nicky's hand. "And good seeing you again."

"Next time you're in town," Nicky said, "maybe we can get together for drinks."

I chuckled. "As long as we get someone else to make them."

Nicky gestured to the large man standing behind him, the one that had brought in the bags. "Gino makes pretty good drinks."

The bodyguard, Gino, snorted and rolled his eyes. Not sure what that was about, but again, this was another one of those questions I wasn't going to ask.

Vito didn't blow out a relieved breath until we were out of the building and in the limo driving toward the airport. I glanced at him, once again shocked by how handsome he was and yet so lethal looking. The power and strength that emanated from the man just from him sitting there breathing was as astounding.

It was an intoxicating combination.

When we pulled into the parking lot for the executive hangars, I whistled low under my breath. A guard stopped us at the gate, demanding identification. Only when we provided it did the guard open the gate.

It beat standing in line in the main airport.

When the car came to a stop and I reached for the door handle, Vito grabbed my arm. "What?" I asked as I glanced at him.

"You always let Boris check first."

Oh, right.

I doubted I would ever get used to needing security.

The number of things I doubted I would ever get used to was adding up quick.

Once we had been given the all clear, I climbed out and walked around to the back of the car. When the driver opened the trunk, I reached in and grabbed my bags.

"Tony."

"What?" I asked.

"Let them carry the bags."

"I'm perfectly able to carry my own bags."

Vito arched an eyebrow until I huffed and set my bags down. Once I did, he turned and casually walked into the building.

"I'm never going to get used to this," I whispered as I followed behind him. I could hear the footsteps of Boris following after me. The massive man was never more than a few feet from me.

Kind of creepy.

Inside the building, I stood next to Vito as he checked us in and then followed him to the hangar where we boarded a big white jet. The inside was surprising, ten tan colored leather chairs in two separate rows. There was a small kitchenette at the back with two doors just beyond.

I was curious about the doors, but Vito ushered me into one of the seats, taking the one directly across from me. The bodyguards that accompanied us took up seats behind us.

There was a palatable tension in the room as we waited for the airplane to start moving. I swallowed hard, trying to get even a sliver of liquid in my dry throat.

I'd never flown before, but I didn't think that was what was unsettling me. There was something else bothering me, but damned if I could figure it out what it was.

"How soon until the plane takes off?" I asked.

"Probably about thirty minutes," Vito replied. "Why?"

I jumped up. "I need to stretch my legs."

"Tony."

I ignored Vito and hurried toward the door of the airplane. Luckily, we hadn't even left the hangar yet. I quickly went down the stairs and started walking around the hangar.

"Tony, is everything okay?" Vito asked.

I turned and started walking toward him, noticing that Boris had also gotten off the airplane and stood next to him, his hands clasped together in front of him. One of the other bodyguards had also come off the plane and stood next to him.

"Tony?"

"I don't know." I started rubbing my hands up and down my arms. They didn't ache exactly, but I felt as if someone was sending an electrical current through my veins.

Something was definitely wrong. All my Spidey senses were tingling. Thoughts ran through my head at lightning speed, one after the other as I tried to figure out what was freaking me out.

On one of my treks through the hangar, Vito stepped in front of me, halting my steps. "What's wrong, Tony? Are you worried about flying? I can assure you, it's perfectly safe."

I shook my head. "No, the flying part doesn't bother me, but..."

Vito frowned. "But what?"

"Something isn't right."

I just didn't know what it was.