Sal realized what he had said. But he wasn’t taking it back. “Let’s just go,” he said with a frown on his face as he hurried off of the terrace. The ladies laughed. Including Ashley.
But Monk took his hat off of Ashley’s head and put it on his own head. Once he smoothed down the brim, he looked at her. He knew that little remark by Sal hurt her. She was the party girl of the family. And because of that, and because she always wanted to have some fun, she was always thought of as less-than no matter who she was around or in which room she sat. And he didn’t like it. “You okay?” he asked her.
She smiled. “I’m good.” Even when she was in pain, she could still find a smile. “Just go get the bad guys.”
Monk smiled. “Behave,” he said.
“Beehive?” asked Ashley sarcastically. “Did you say Beehive? Is Beyonce here?” Then she grinned. Gemma and Trina laughed too.That Ashley, they thought. Although Trina just wanted Reno and company to get downstairs and get some more intel on what was going on.
Reno could tell Monk had his hands full with Ashley. Any man would. And after the rumors he’d been hearing about her behavior in Jersey, he knew Monk was probably overwhelmed with keeping his tabs on his syndicateandhis wife too. It had to be a lot.
But they all had baggage to carry. And right now, they had work to do. “Let’s go,” he said to Monk, tapping him on his chest, as they made their way off of the terrace, through the parlor, and down the hall that led to the foyer.
At the dinning room table, Jimmy, Malcolm, and Robby were playing cards. Dommi was standing beside as he grabbed Jimmy’s bottle of beer and took a swig. They watched as Reno, Sal, and Monk left the penthouse.
“You should be with them, Dom,” Robby said.
“That’s what I say too,” said Dom. “But with my old man and my uncles and Monk Paletti too all up my ass? It’ll never happen.”
“It’ll happen,” said Jimmy as he tossed down a card. “But with restrictions.”
Dom looked at his big brother. “What kind of restrictions?”
“You’re in their club now. You’re a boss now. But you will always be the mob boss who comes with parental supervision.”
They all laughed. But Robby was laughing too hard for Dommi’s taste. He slapped him playfully upside his head. “Very funny,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Rats Scorvino was arrogant from the start. That was why Sal never liked the man. Reno never did either. Monk didn’t personally know the gentleman to render an opinion.
But when they entered the room inside the PaLargio’s Bowels, and they saw Mick standing against the wall talking with their guest as if he wasn’t going to be punished simply because he was a member of Fort Knots, all three of them didn’t like it. If their hunch was right, this fat-ass and his drones tried to take them out on more than one occasion, and he just might have tried to kill Trina twice. What the fuck was he and Mick key-keying about?
With Sal and Monk standing behind him to demonstrate they had his back, Reno grabbed a chair and sat in front of Rats. The bastard actually smiled. “How you doing, Reno? It’s been a minute. I almost thought you was dead. You don’t get around much anymore, hun?”
Reno moved his chair closer, pulled out his Glock, and pressed the barrel against Rats huge stomach. Mick stood up erect from his leaned position against the wall. They needed intel. Not another dead body.
But Reno was looking like he didn’t give a shit. He had no patience for a man who was more than likely responsible for what happened to Tree in that motel room and what could have happened to them over in Henderson. He got right to the point. “I’m going to ask you a question, Rats. I’m asking it because I already know the answer. If your ass lies to me, I will pull thistrigger.” Reno cocked his Glock. “I’m tired of people lying to me. Don’t you start too. Understood?”
Rats suddenly wasn’t smiling anymore. Although his arms were folded when Reno walked in, he unfolded them when he felt the barrel of that gun against his belly. He knew Reno had an explosive temper just like Mick. He knew Reno wasn’t about the bullshit. He nodded his head. “I got you, Reno.”
“You ain’t got shit,” Reno responded. “Just answer my question.”
“What’s your question?”
That arrogance again, Reno thought. “Why did members of your organization try to take out my wife at that motel room, and again with those drones on her ride from that hospital?”
Rats didn’t respond in his usually fast way. “What if I disagree with the premise of your question?”
Reno pressed that gun harder against his belly as if he was just about to release that trigger. “Okay, Reno, okay!” Rats cried out.
Then he settled back down. “Javon Douglas claimed to have video of your wife in a very, shall we say, compromising position? He wouldn’t tell me what it was, but he said he’s the only person with the video and it’s right-protected with encryption and all that bullshit. And he’ll take it to his grave before anybody knew where he hid it. But he wanted to make a deal.”
“What was the deal?” Reno asked.
“He wanted to do a shakedown.”
“A shakedown of who? My wife? He wanted you to shakedown my wife?”
