“I appreciate you doing him that favor. I know it’s not your usual modus operandi.” He reaches over and gives me a squeeze on my shoulder. “The bordello is bringing in good money, Son. Nico and I were going over the books recently and I am pleased with the way things are going. The hotels, restaurants, and casinos are all thriving. The economy is improving, and we are in the black. My only concern is with the Lorenzo family in New Jersey. Mario has been having some issues with shipments going through.” He lets out an exhausted sigh. “Last thing I heard, they are wanting to buy back the waterfront property they lost and it’s been rumored they’re going to try to stop the shipments from coming in. I might need you to go to New Jersey soon. I have some important shipments that’ll need to get through without issue and I can’t take a chance.”
“Whatever you need, Dad.” And that’s the truth. I would do anything for my family. You don’t get to where we are by not remaining loyal to those in your circle.
“Grazie, my boy.”
After lunch is over, we all go our separate ways. Cecilia asks if I want to take a cab back with her, but I have other things to take care of, so I tell her I’ll see her back at the club later.
Half an hour later, I’m standing in the senator’s office requesting to speak with him.
“I’m sorry, Sir. He’s not seeing anyone without an appointment,” his secretary says.
I smile and give her a wink. “Let him know Giovanni Valentino is here to see him. He will make the exception.”
She picks up the phone and calls her boss. After a bunch of “yes sirs,” she puts the phone down, and giving me a pointed look, huffs out, “He will be with you momentarily.”
I smile and walk toward the sitting area. There are several pictures along the walls. A couple of the senator at ribbon ceremonies, one of him shaking an old President’s hand. The last one looks like a family picture at a charity event. There are two women with Weston. The woman on his right is beaming brightly, but it looks fake as hell. She’s pretty for an older woman. She’s clearly younger than Weston but older than the other woman in the picture, who is standing on Weston’s other side. This girl is a mini-version of the older woman. She has chocolate brown hair, olive skin, and bright bluish-green eyes. She must be her daughter.
“Such a shame.” I turn to face the secretary to give her my attention. “His wife. She was killed in a car accident…well geez, it must have been almost nine months ago. Time sure flies.” She frowns.
“The girl in the picture? Is that their daughter?” I point to the one I was just examining.
“That’s his stepdaughter. I guess it’s a shame about her as well. After her mom died, she dropped out of college at the end of her sophomore year and took off.” Hmm… guess she’s not missing.
“Thank you, Margaret.” Weston’s voice is clipped. Cold. Not like a man who lost his wife tragically and it hurts to hear about her. More like a man who is hiding something. I tilt my head just a tad and give him a knowing smirk. I see you, Weston Hightower. Game on. Extending my hand, I go in for a shake just to fuck with him. He takes my hand in his, his fingers bandaged.
“What happened to your hand, Senator? Looks bad.” He pulls his hand back without answering my question and mutters to his secretary to hold all his calls.
The office door closes behind us and I cut right to the chase. “I haven’t heard from you. I’m assuming you are busy collecting my money from God knows where.”
“I need some more time. Give me two months.”
“You have two weeks to pay me in full. I want a percentage now, though.”
His one good hand balls into a fist at his side. He’s used to being the one in charge and he’s holding back from going off on me. He stalks to his desk and opens the safe hidden underneath, taking out a stack of bills. “This is all I have right now.”
I take the two stacks of wrapped hundreds and place one into each of the inside of my jacket pockets. “I’ll take this, for now. But you owe me the rest in the next two weeks. Don’t make me have to look for you, Hightower.”
He grimaces but keeps his mouth closed. Wise choice, Senator.
Chapter Four
ARIA
There’s shouting upstairs. I should care, but I don’t. Nothing matters anymore besides taking the drugs that numb me. I can’t even tell you how long I have been down in this pit of hell, but it’s been long enough that I have been trained like Pavlov’s dog to drool over the goods. Popping those pills means temporarily numbing the pain and shame I feel. It means forgetting I’m in a basement with no way out. That I’m being held hostage by my mom’s ex-husband, who has lost his damn mind. It means I don’t have to remember my mom is dead. That my life will never be the same.