Clean Slate (New Mafia Trilogy #2) Read online

  “No, I learned that from a movie, hoping it was true.”

  Victor chuckled again. “It’s true, here you go.” He finished adding his number to my contacts list and handed the phone back to me. “I’ll be here by 5:00 to follow you to work and I’ll probably hang there for a bit – scope the place out.”

  “What if my boss or co-workers get curious about you?”

  “Just tell them I’m a friend of your brother’s. Relax, I’m not going to be up your ass and creeping people out. I’ll sit at the bar and observe.”

  “Okay.” I walked Victor to the door. “Thanks for everything.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he said before leaving.

  I shut the door behind him and leaned back against it, taking a deep breath. Victor’s parting words were laced with caution, reminding me of the dangerous task ahead for Dom and Grant.

  Chapter 23

  PHILADELPHIA

  DOMINIC

  My plane landed at a little before 1:00 am and I quickly deplaned, hurrying through the terminal, following signs for the exit and baggage claim. After exiting the airport, I immediately hailed a cab and once we were en route to my condo, I called the concierge to pull my car around so it would be ready for me when I got there. Crimson was closing in an hour and I needed to pay my fucking uncle a visit.

  The cab pulled in behind my Mustang, which was idling in front of my building. A white cloud billowed out into the cold night air from the exhaust. I paid the cab driver and quickly exited.

  “Good Morning, Mr. Grabano,” the valet said when he opened the driver’s side door of my Mustang. He took the suitcase from my hand and tucked it in the back. I slid into the leather seat, appreciating the warm interior. Even though my car was vintage, a 1969, it smelled brand new on the inside. I had just gotten it back from my friend Vinnie’s auto body shop. It had been there for over two months getting completely overhauled. I needed new interior upholstery because the old was saturated with blood. I needed all new doors, a front quarter panel on the driver’s side, plus all new windows since they were destroyed by bullets. It was close to a total restoration. Fortunately the engine and tranny weren’t damaged, it was all cosmetic. I preferred this ride to the rental I had been driving.

  With the engine already warmed up, I took off down the driveway. It was late and traffic was light so I made it to Crimson in less than ten minutes, just before last call. I parked next to Miranda’s Cadillac and popped the glove box open, retrieving my gun. I didn’t have my small of back holster on, so I slipped it inside my jacket as I walked to the front entrance. My cousin, Telly, was working the door. Red from the neon Crimson sign reflected on his shiny bald head, adding a sinister glow to his already intimidating large presence, which is why he worked up front. He sent an unspoken message to every single person who walked through the door.

  “Yo, Dom. Where ya been at? Marco is fuckin’ pissed, man.”

  “Is he here?”

  “Nah. He was earlier, but got called away. He was looking for you. What the fuck’s going on?”

  “I had a lead on Natalie in Seattle that I went to check out. Dead end though.” Just the very mention of her name off my tongue made me want to snap my uncle’s neck with my bare hands.

  “Did Grant go with you?”

  “No.” I didn’t give Telly any more information because he was asking too many questions for my comfort level. His mom was my Aunt Paulina, Marco’s wife. While several of my cousins were in on the coup we were planning, Telly was never considered. His head was too far lodged up Marco’s ass. Would we be able to turn him once Marco was killed? That remained to be seen. Marco had loyalists. Shit, I was probably considered one of them, but not anymore. “Is Miranda around?” I asked.

  “Yeah, she’s in her office.”

  I walked down a short hallway into the club, the music growing louder with each step. Bass beats worked from the floor up, vibrating my body. Throngs of people crowded around the bar trying to get their last drink order in. The way they were pushing forward, swarming the bar and shouting reminded me of a busy day at the stock exchange. I waved at the bartenders as I passed by.

  Miranda’s office was locked so I sent her a quick text since knocking would be useless. Seconds later the door opened a crack, but it wasn’t Miranda’s face peering out at me.

  “Grant, you fucker, you beat me back!”

  Grant smirked and opened the door, stepping aside so I could enter. “I got lucky and flew stand-by on an earlier flight. I’m glad you’re here and didn’t go after Marco by yourself.”

  “I was hoping he’d be here. Sorry about leaving the way I did. The way Natalie ended things pisses me off, but it also makes me more determined to get things started. Did you fill Miranda in?”

  “Yeah,” Grant’s smirk twisted into a frown.

  “I am so fucking pissed, Dom!” Miranda yelled. She came around from behind the desk and hugged me. I could feel her body practically vibrating with rage. I had expected some tears over her father’s betrayal, but her eyes were dry. “Why the hell would he want Natalie dead? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I don’t know, but Gio Bianchi had a theory.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Gio suggested that Natalie is my weakness and Marco would be able to control me more with her out of the picture. The same theory applies for Grant. Remove Nat, have it look like New York ordered the hit and problem solved.”

  “It sounds like something my dad would do,” Miranda admitted with a sigh. “He’s always been a paranoid control freak, but this is taking it a little too far.”

  “This just adds to the reason why he needs to go,” I said.

  “You’re right. I agreed with you before. So, what are our next steps?”

  “Let’s get everyone together and meet at your place, Dom. How about we meet tomorrow afternoon before we have to work?” Grant suggested.

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” I ran a hand through my hair and leaned against the closed office door. It had been a long day of travel and the sting of Natalie’s rejection burned even more with each mile I put between us. Suddenly the music stopped, ceasing the vibrations against my back. Only voices of people filtering out toward the exit, being herded like drunken cattle, could be heard.

  “There’s one other thing,” Grant said and I focused my tired eyes on him. “Gio sent Victor to collect the guns we borrowed and apparently Victor has been assigned to watch over Natalie, not just for protection though.”

  “To make sure we don’t back out, right? Bring Natalie into their folds so if we fail, she’s collateral.”

  “Basically, yeah.” Grant sought out Miranda and as if reading his needs, she walked to his side, slipping her hand into his.

  “So we can’t fail,” I said. They nodded in agreement and we didn’t say anything else after that.

  I left the club, pausing briefly to say hi to some of the employees, but turning down several invites to go party. My mind was working overtime with plans for taking out Marco as I drove home. The doorman opened the large glass door to my building and I walked across the lobby to the elevator in a haze of fatigue.

  My condo was dark, cold and quiet. I flicked on the entryway light and hung my leather jacket up on a hook before kicking off my shoes. I had only been gone a few days, but the place already smelled stale. Walking into the kitchen, I turned on the lights that were suspended over the island. The granite shone, not even a piece of mail cluttered the counter. I might as well have entered a model unit. My condo seemed less like a home since Natalie left. I had grown used to seeing her bag hanging on the back of the bar stool and her shoes in the entryway next to mine. I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and crossed the dark living room to the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony, drawn to the view of the Delaware River and sparkling lights of the Camden waterfront below. The ghost of Natalie’s presence was everywhere. I remembered the morning after we first made love, how we stood here together watching t
he sunrise.

  The bedroom was the worst. The dresser was devoid of her clutter and her side of the bed empty. In the master bathroom, seeing the toothbrush dispenser empty of her toothbrush and the hook on the bathroom door no longer holding her ratty old robe drove her absence home. Even the room didn’t smell the same. The scents of her perfume and body wash no longer hung in the air. She was gone and even after I followed her across the country, realizing the connection and the love between us was as strong as ever; she denied me, denied us. Letting out a frustrated growl, I drained the bottle empty and went to grab another beer.

  You don’t betray family. That’s how I was raised and this had been driven into me since I was a kid. What my Uncle Marco did was a betrayal. The next beer I sipped slowly as a plan began to emerge on how to end Marco.

  ***

  My brother Anthony, cousin Dante and his younger brother Johnny, Miranda, her younger brother Paulie, and Grant arrived at 3:00 the next afternoon. Dante and Johnny had to be at Butter by 4:00 for work so we sat on the leather sectional in the living room and got right down to business, first filling in everyone about the latest events.

  “Dad wants to take Natalie out permanently and I’m not okay with that,” Miranda said.

  “I can’t believe he wants her dead. She hasn’t done anything,” Dante said. “Does this mean my dad and Dom’s dad know?”

  I hadn’t even thought about my father’s involvement or Uncle Al’s for that matter. When Natalie and Brittany were assaulted, my dad was the first to call and let me know where to find them. Of course he didn’t do anything to prevent the attacks, but I understood or tried to understand why he couldn’t interfere.

  “Either they know about the hit on Natalie or Marco is feeding them info just like he has been to us,” I said.

  “So what are we going to do?” Paulie asked. He was sitting next to Miranda, almost leaning against her for support. His short dark hair was gelled up in spikes and a trail of acne lined his jawline, partially hidden by a light layer of stubble. I had mixed feelings about bringing Paulie, Anthony and Johnny in since they were all still in high school, but by the time I was a freshman, I was running heroin for the family and doing other odd jobs. My sixteenth birthday present from Uncle Marco was my very first hand gun, a .22, which was now somewhere at the bottom of the Delaware. Anthony already proved his worth by getting the fake IDs and credit cards. All of them were eager to get involved.

  “I think we need to wait until after the holidays. Marco is suspicious of me and Grant right now since we were off the grid for a few days. Let’s get him to relax and hit him when he least expects it.”

  “So this will be our last Christmas with dad,” Paulie said to Miranda.

  “I know, but we can’t act like it is.” She placed her arm around his shoulders and drew him in closer to her side in a maternal gesture.

  “If he’s even around - remember last year?” I heard the resentment in his voice.

  We had all heard from our Aunt Paulina how Marco had showed up Christmas morning after not coming home the night before. He was hungover and wearing a day-old suit with lipstick stains on the collar of his white shirt. It was so cliché, which made it even more painful.

  “I know, Paulie.” Miranda said. She pressed a kiss to his temple. When he went to squirm away, she held him tighter until he laughed and stopped resisting.

  We spent the rest of the hour hashing out the plan. Since Paulie still lived at home with Marco, he would be our spy. He would pay particular attention to any appointments or travel plans. It was agreed that I would be the shooter. I didn’t want Grant to be the one since he was marrying Miranda. I could see that shit turning into resentment down the road. Once we secured a date and location that was low risk, I’d go in for the kill. After Marco was taken out, we’d determine if my dad and Uncle Al needed to be removed as well. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. Before we ended the meeting, we all agreed that we were to tell no one else our plans. We needed to be as discreet as possible to pull this off.

  Chapter 24

  The next night I was back behind the bar at Crimson. Since it was a Friday, the crowd around my bar was five people deep. Women in barely there tops draped across the black counter, oblivious to puddles of beer and other booze collecting on the surface. They vied for my attention, but I ignored their offers, only taking their drink orders and moving on to the next customer in line. The women would reluctantly drift away with a pout.

  I was halfway through my shift, when I looked up to take the next order and came face to face with Uncle Marco. His dark eyes glittered when he smiled, completely devoid of any warmth.

  “Dom, my boy, where the fuck have you been?”

  “I’m not your boy” is what I wanted to say. Instead I said, “Hey Uncle Marco, it’s good to see you!” with as much enthusiasm I could manage. “I got a lead on Natalie in Seattle so I flew out there, but the girl wasn’t her.”

  “You had to fly all the way out there, without telling nobody, especially me? Lemme guess, Grant went with you too.”

  “No, just me. Grant’s mom had something going on health-wise, so I went instead. I needed to know for sure if it was her or not. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.” I lowered my head in submission, hoping he didn’t see my jaw bulge as I gritted my teeth.

  “Who else knew?” His eyes narrowed with suspicion and his lips twisted into a smirk.

  “No one except Grant. I asked Miranda for a couple days off, but didn’t tell her why.” I met his eyes knowing if I didn’t, he wouldn’t believe me. We stared at each other from across the bar, ignoring the drunken commotion around us.

  “Don’t ever disappear like that again. Understand?” He seized my hand in a vice-like grip and squeezed. “And forget about that puttana, she’s nothing but a distraction.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Natalie is not a whore or a distraction and it’s my business if I want to go look for her.”

  He tugged on my arm, forcing me to lean forward. “No, it’s my business you’re fucking with. Your place is here, not chasing after a piece of ass. Come see me after closing, I need you to take care of something tonight.” He said in his gravelly voice, low enough for me to hear beneath the pulsating music.

  I clenched my jaw, biting back the anger only speaking when I calmed down enough. “I’ll see you after work. Now, can I get you a drink?”

  “Nah, I’m heading to VIP. Allegra’s working there tonight.” Marco licked his lips like a cat that just drank from a bowl of cream and my stomach immediately turned. Allegra was Nat’s age and her father had been recently killed during the turf war with the Nucci family. I watched as my uncle moved in the path that Mike, one of the bouncers, created as he parted the crowd with his bulk. Mike lifted weights like his life depended on it and the result caused his neck to be swallowed up by his shoulders. He never had a problem with people getting in his way.

  Pulling my attention away, I focused on filling drink orders instead. Vanessa, one of the regulars, found an empty stool and sidled up to the bar.

  “Hi Dom, are you lonely yet?” Her chain smoking habit had long wrecked her voice and she sounded like a man. Vanessa leaned forward, practically spilling out of her strapless gold sequined top. She took a long, exaggerated sip from her straw before popping it out of her mouth and licking her lips that were still puffy from a recent injection. I would never be that lonely or desperate.

  “Nope, good to know you’re so concerned.” I turned and walked to the other end of the bar to help Richie out who was slammed with fifteen orders of kamikaze shots and cosmos. It didn’t help that rowdy women were tugging at his shirt sleeves as if to drag him over the bar. Bachelorette parties were a bitch.

  After the club cleared out, I finished cleaning and restocking the bar then walked across the empty dance floor to meet with Marco. He sat in a plush red velvet booth surrounded by my dad, Uncle Al and Marco’s cousins, Big Tony and Little Tony. Big Tony maybe topped out at 5’
3” and was as round as an oak barrel. Little Tony was close to 6’ and as skinny as a meth addict.

  “Hey, there’s my boy!” my dad said when he saw me approach. “Come here.” He slid over, making room for me. I sat down next to him and he patted my knee. “Your mother is worried about you. Stop by the house soon.”

  I promised I would before turning my attention to Marco. “You still need me?” I asked.

  “Yeah, turns out Danny Z. has developed a nasty habit. He was supposed to deliver the profits for the last batch of H, but apparently he decided to keep the product for himself.”

  “Let me guess, he’s off the grid?”

  “He has been, but Big Tone and Little Tone were on their way here and drove past him picking up a hooker out front of the Pierce.” Uncle Marco was referring to a historic hotel with a sordid history and hourly rates located in a somewhat respectable area near the University of the Arts, where Natalie had graduated from. “Guaranteed he’s holed up in there. Go find him and collect.”

  “How much am I collecting?”

  “Take whatever he’s got on him and leave enough of a mark to remind him who he works for.”

  “Got it, I’ll let you know when it’s done,” I said, standing up. “Good night, Dad.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Always.” I flashed a grin before leaving.

  I unlocked Miranda’s office and walked in on her and Grant. Miranda was sitting on the edge of the desk, with her skirt hiked up around her hips and Grant was wedged in between her thighs, his hands gripping her long, black hair as he moved his mouth over hers. I only saw two seconds worth, but it was enough to be branded in my mind forever. They didn’t notice me, with all of the thrusting, panting and moaning going on, so I backed out and shut the door only to pound on it moments later. I snorted when I heard the panicked shuffling. Grant flung open the door and stood in front of me, his shirt was untucked and his hair hung over his eyes, pulled free of its usual gelled state.