Page 36 of Perfect Vengeance

He slapped her buttocks before she could cover herself, loving the feel of her smooth flesh beneath his hand. He chuckled when she jumped.

“That’s what you get for extending your vacation.” He tucked his custom-made silk shirt back into his slacks and yanked up the zipper. “I’m a horny old man and three weeks is too long. Now get back inside before the missus sees you’re gone.”

Chita tugged down her skirt. “Yes, Mister Franco.”

He watched her sashay between his blue Cadillac Escalade and silver Lincoln Town Car as she headed to the door connecting the garage and the house.

Sixty years old, and I still got it. Whoever said it was all over after fifty was full of shit. Some Friday nights he’d fucked Chita so hard, pumping between her thighs from every position, it was a wonder she could walk the next day. That was what a gumada—a girlfriend—was for.

As Chita opened the connecting door to the house, she threw him a flirtatious look over her shoulder and nearly slammed into Tino. She lowered her eyes as Tino brushed past her, practically shoving her out of the way. Chita disappeared into the house, closing the door behind her.

Tino leaned his hip against the hood of the Lincoln, then crossed his arms, tightening his suit jacket over his broad, steroid-bulked shoulders.

At six feet tall and with dark, handsome Italian looks to match, Tino should have been what every father wanted in a son. Too bad it was only skin deep. Beneath that polished exterior was a calculating little rat Franco had begun to trust less and less.

He buttoned his slacks and fastened his belt. “You didn’t have to be so rude.”

“I was rude?” He jabbed a finger in Franco’s direction. “What about you being rude to Ma?” He glanced at the connecting door to the house and spoke with less volume. “You once told me Friday nights you take out your gumada, and Saturday night you take out your wife. All the other nights are for family. Not getting your rocks off.”

Franco narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you ever speak to me with such disrespect again. You’re my only son, but I’m head of this family, and lately you seem to have forgotten that.”

“You wanna talk about disrespect?” He shoved off the car and stopped short a foot from where Franco stood. Challenge gleamed in his son’s eyes, another thing Franco had noticed with increasing frequency. “You don’t respect my mother,” Tino gritted out, “or you wouldn’t be banging the maid right under her nose and in her own house.”

“Her house?” He glared at his son. “Who do you think paid for this place? I did, and you know it.” Heat rose to his face as he considered the balls it took for one of his own capos—his son, no less—to confront him in this insubordinate manner.

“Don’t ever forget your place. You’re my capo, and you take orders from me.” They locked stares long enough for Franco to count the gold flecks in Tino’s dark eyes. “I don’t owe you any explanation about who I fuck and where I do it. As my son, I tell you it’s because I respect your mother that I screw the maid. I would never disrespect your mother by asking her to do half the things I do with Chita.”

“Fine.” Tino unclenched his jaw and blew out a breath. “But get off my ass about Maria.”

“Stop beating the crap out of her, and I will.” Franco backed off. “Women are fragile and need to be treated like queens.”

“You want me to stay out of your personal life. Stay out of mine.” He fisted his hands. “What I do with my wife is my business.”

“Bullshit.” Franco smacked the garage door opener on the wall with the heel of his hand.

The motor whirred as the massive garage door creaked, then opened. A gust of cold air blew into the garage, but Franco barely felt it. Anger at Tino’s increasingly shitty attitude was pissing him off and making him hotter under the collar than he could ever remember being.

He hooked his thumb, indicating Tino should follow him. The house was swept regularly for bugs, but there was no sense taking a chance discussing business inside. The FBI had ears everywhere.

Their shoes crunched on the white stone driveway as they walked to the wall overlooking Lower and Gravesend Bays. Cawing seagulls hovered overhead. Wind whipped up the cliff, ruffling Franco’s thinning hair.

Briefly, he considered throwing Tino over the ledge and ridding himself of a major pain in the ass, but Tino’s mother would be heartbroken, something Franco couldn’t live with. Instead, he turned on his son and slapped him in the face.

Tino flinched from the blow. A tick worked overtime in his jaw, and his cheek reddened where Franco had slapped him.

“You listen to me and listen good.” Franco’s heart hammered. This was the first time he’d ever laid a hand on his son.

The shocked look on Tino’s face quickly disappeared, his eyes blazing with a different emotion now. If murdering looks could kill, Franco had no doubt he’d be fish bait.

“When you pound on Maria to the point where she has to go to the hospital, you bring unwanted attention and heat down on the whole Family, and that affects business.” He waved his finger in front of Tino’s nose. “I will not tolerate that, especially with the Commission meeting set to happen any day now. The last thing I need are more feds tailing us everywhere we go. You fucked things up enough when you took out that fed without my sanction.”

Tino’s nostrils flared so wide he thought his son was about to snap and come at him.

“Yeah, I know about that,” he continued. “There’s nothing I don’t know. There’s too much at stake for you to run around half-cocked all the time. If I can’t control my own people, let alone my own son, the Commission will never grant me a seat.”

He paused to gauge Tino’s reaction. Aside from clenching and unclenching his hands, the little prick kept his mouth shut. Good thing too. Franco detested using his hands for violence. That’s what God invented guns, knives, and ice picks for, for shit’s sake.

“Now that we’ve got that straightened out, we can talk business.” He paused, making sure Tino wasn’t about to whip out a gun and plug him. “What are you doing to catch the assholes who’ve been ripping us off?”