Respect: An Infidelity series Novel Read online

  Angelina’s had been light and floral. It was almost like it wasn’t there, yet it was. I may not have even realized it was perfume were it not that now it was gone.

  Inhaling the heavy too-sweet scent, I took the letters from Lisa’s grasp and began to sign at the bottom of each page, scanning what she’d written. Each one was the same, exactly as I’d dictated. When I looked up, Lisa was still near, but turned away, looking out the window at the dark night.

  This office was better located than the one that previously housed Demetri Enterprises. No longer in Brooklyn, my new corporate office was in the city. That may sound impressive, but New York was big. This wasn’t the real estate of a successful company. It was the placement of an up-and-coming business. One day, Demetri would be high in the sky in the financial district.

  I believed that.

  The view that Lisa was staring out to was nothing spectacular.

  “Lisa?”

  “Hmm?” she said as she turned. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how dark it had gotten.”

  “That’s why you shouldn’t stay here this late. Are you parked close by?” I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of that before. I wouldn’t want Angelina in the city this late.

  She shook her head, her large earrings bobbing as she moved. Her brightly painted lip disappeared behind her teeth. “I don’t have a car. I never learned to drive. It’s all right. The subway is close.”

  “You shouldn’t take the subway this late, not by yourself.”

  She smiled though I could tell it wasn’t real. It was her mouth, but her eyes were thinking about something else. “I’ll be fine, Mr. Demetri. I’d better go.” She turned and took a step before stopping. Looking back my way, she went on, “I hope you celebrate your success tonight. You deserve it. Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

  “No, I should be going too.”

  “Do you think...?” She stopped.

  “Do I think what?”

  “I hate to ask, but it is so dark. Do you think that if you’re leaving, you could give me a ride home?”

  Her question caught me off guard. Assuring her safety was the right thing to do, but yet it didn’t feel right. I stood, reached for my wallet, and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “I need to get home. I’m already late. Here, call a cab. Keep the rest and if this happens again, use it.”

  Her cheeks flushed as she took a step closer, looking at the bill in my hand. “No, I shouldn’t.”

  “Nonsense. You’re here after dark because of me.”

  “I’m more than willing to be here...after dark...for you. You’re my boss. I’m here whenever you need me—whatever you tell me to do. You don’t have to pay for my taxi.”

  I may be married, but I wasn’t dead. I also couldn’t miss her proposition. The way her breasts moved with her shallow breaths—it was practically a flashing neon sign. I’d like to say that I wasn’t tempted, but as I mentioned, I wasn’t dead. Besides, celebrating the deal I’d accomplished would probably not be happening when I got home. Nevertheless, despite my anticipation of a less-than-warm reception, my home was where I wanted to be. “Go home, Lisa. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Yes, Mr. Demetri.” She reached for the twenty and flashed a smile. “A taxi will be better. On the subway, I have to transfer and well...” Her long lashes fluttered. “Thank you.”

  I nodded, unable to turn my gaze back to my desk as she turned, and her hips swayed as she walked away.

  Sitting back down, I concentrated on my wife—the woman I loved—and the child growing within her. She was obviously upset despite her cool tone. Maybe if I convinced her to get mad and let it out, we could make up.

  That was the celebration I wanted.

  Those were my thoughts as I tried again to call Angelina. As I lifted the receiver, from the other room I heard Lisa collecting her things, the file cabinet opening and closing, and speaking softly. I hoped she was calling for a cab.

  I wasn’t interested in my secretary in a sexual way though I’d be lying if I said my body didn’t react to her proposition. Nevertheless, she was a competent employee. She didn’t need to be walking in those shoes on the street this late at night.

  The outer office door closed, its sound echoing through the now-empty office as I dialed the number to my house. It rang and rang. I hung up and tried again. Perhaps I accidentally dialed the wrong number.

  Ring.

  Ring.

  Then again, maybe she wasn’t home. Maybe Angelina went to Rose’s or Bella’s?

  I had plenty of options, but the only reality was that I wasn’t getting an answer.

  But what if it wasn’t an obvious option? What if it were something more sinister? I couldn’t stop my mind from going there.

  Both Rose and Carmine’s and Vincent and Bella’s homes were only a few blocks away. Bella wouldn’t go out, not with the baby due soon. Did Angelina walk? I didn’t want Lisa walking, but I sure as hell didn’t want Angelina walking alone at night. I didn’t care if it was a good neighborhood or not. There was too much going on for Carmine’s niece—my wife—to be out walking at night.

  I tried to quell my anxiety, telling myself that she wouldn’t walk. She’d know better. It wasn’t only her safety now but our child’s too. Even if she were mad at me, I believed she’d be smarter than that.

  I dialed Franco’s pager, entering my car phone number with a 5. It was my signal to call me on that number in five minutes.

  Chapter 13

  As my mind continued to wonder and worry, my body forgot about celebrating. Making sure my gun was in place, I locked the office and rushed to my car. My number one priority was somewhere not talking to me.

  I had one pressing need: making sure that Angelina was all right.

  Franco’s call came as soon as I turned on the car.

  “Franco?” I asked, not making sure it was him.

  “Yeah, boss. You need me?”

  “Did you drive Mrs. Demetri somewhere?”

  “Yeah. I took her to the Met this morning. I brought her home about four. She hasn’t called.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Jackson’s.”

  Fuck.

  Jackson’s was a storefront owned by Morelli. The upstairs was a small delicatessen—which actually served good sandwiches and was busy during the day. The basement was another thing. Once a week it was filled with tables and chairs. Only the ones who could afford the entry fee were able to sit at those tables. Five thousand dollars to plant your ass on a card table chair.

  It didn’t sound like much of a deal. Nevertheless, it was always full.

  The poker was high stakes, and everyone knew the entry fee was worth it. I hadn’t thought about it when I called, but tonight was Wednesday—poker night. I knew without asking that instead of watching over my wife, Franco Testa was working the game for Morelli. It took a crew to watch over the door and the players. The insane amount of cash alone made it dangerous.

  Morelli and I had made an agreement regarding Testa, but regardless, his directives came first. Morelli outranked me by a thousand. I may have been Carmine’s niece’s husband and his nephew-in-law, but Morelli was family from way back, and besides, he was made.

  “You sure she hasn’t called? She isn’t answering the phone,” I said.

  “I can ask Morelli. If he can spare me for a few, I could go to the house.”

  The streets were less congested than they’d be if I’d left when I was supposed to. “No, I’m on my way home. Let me know if you hear anything. If I need you, I’ll call.”

  “Sure thing,” he said just before the line went dead.

  I called my house again.

  Nothing.

  Lisa’s advances were long forgotten as I made my way from the city to our neighborhood. My only thought was Angelina. I imagined what I could find. For some reason, I wasn’t seeing her on the couch watching television. Instead, my thoughts were filled with gruesome scenes. My stomach knotted as a cold c
hill passed through me, leaving my skin damp with perspiration as I floored the gas pedal and wound my way toward our home.

  Navigating the dark streets, I came to the conclusion that I needed to talk to Carmine about Testa. After all, he had Stefano watching over his home and Rose. Someone needed to be close by Angelina at all times. The protection Vincent had arranged after our wedding had moved on. And yet the threat seemed more real than ever. If not Testa, I’d ask for someone else. Assuming my imagination was playing tricks on me, I didn’t plan to repeat this scenario again.

  I whipped my car into a spot near the curb a few houses down. Slamming my car door, I raced toward our house.

  “Angelina!” I called. The front door banged against the wall of the entry and bounced back as I rushed inside. Screaming into the dark hallway, I repeated her name. The living room was dark and quiet. The light from the street post was my only illumination as I hurried deeper into our home. Even the kitchen lights were off. Except for the echo of my own shouts, the house was quiet. Too quiet. I stepped into the kitchen and scanned the dim room. Nothing was out of place. The counters were clean and dishes were put away; the bouquet reminded me that I hadn’t stopped to get her anything. It was then that I remembered her saying the dinner was gone. I didn’t give a damn about the food. I needed her.

  Fuck!

  My mind was too many places. “Angelina!”

  My heart rate accelerated as I shut and locked the front door before taking the stairs two at a time. My shoes pounded the wooden stairs as the summer heat and humidity rose with each step. “Angelina!” The door to our bedroom was open and the light was on, but the room was empty. Again, everything was in its place. Even the bed was untouched.

  It was then that I noticed the golden line of light spilling from beneath the bathroom door.

  I took a step closer, but there was no noise coming from beyond the door. A lump formed in my throat as I reached for the door handle. I’d seen a news report recently about a suspected mob hit in Chicago. The victim was rumored to be an associate who’d snitched. The news tried to sensationalize it, but the fact remained that the victim was found with a gunshot wound to his head, lying in a bathtub of his own blood.

  If the rumors were true, it was a warning to others. No doubt with the national news coverage, the warning was heard loud and clear.

  With my heart hammering against my chest, I gripped the knob and turned.

  A sigh escaped my lips as I took her in. There in all her naked beauty was my wife. Her head had been lying back against a towel and she had headphones over her ears attached to a cassette player on the edge of the tub. The door opening must have startled her because now she was sitting up, her blue eyes opened wide, and the water sloshing near the edge of the tub.

  “Oren! What in the world?”

  Too many emotions.

  Relief.

  Annoyance.

  Happiness.

  Fury.

  “Answer the goddamn phone.” My demand came out louder than I planned. I’d spent the last however long it took me to get home with terrible images in my head. Now here she was, safe and sound, and I figuratively was ready to kill her.

  Not literally.

  Literally, I was beside myself with all of it.

  Angelina’s resolve was strong as she stared my direction, the headphones now in her hand and her gorgeous bare back straight. “I answered the damn phone. I told you your dinner is gone. I hope you ate.”

  “No, I’ve been too worried that something happened to you.”

  “Well, something did,” she responded, crossing her arms over her chest, shielding her growing breasts from my view.

  It didn’t matter. The bubbles were gone, if she’d had any. Though slightly distorted by the water, I had a perfect vision of every inch and every curve of her sexy, soft skin.

  She continued, undaunted by my gaze. “My husband stood me up for the second time in a week. That’s what happened.” The emotion she hadn’t shown on the phone was back, not only in her tone, but also in the way her blue eyes shot daggers my direction.

  I wasn’t the only one who was angry. “You hung up on me.”

  “And you stood me up. I worked today and still made you dinner. And then I sat here all by myself and ate it.”

  “I tried to apologize. You hung up.”

  Her lips came together in a straight line as her eyes blazed, reminding me of the fire inside the woman I loved.

  “I’ve heard it before,” she said.

  I took a deep breath. “Mio angelo...” I softened my tone.

  “No. Don’t do that.”

  A smile tugged at my lips. How could I marry a Costello and not expect a temper?

  Kicking off my shoes, I threw my suit coat to the floor and pulled the knot from my tie.

  “No, Oren,” she said watching my every move. “Don’t you dare. I’m mad at you.”

  My lips curled higher. “Baby, I’m mad at you, too.”

  The fire in her eyes from a moment earlier now simmered with smoldering blue coals as she shook her head. “You can’t just think...”

  Her words stilled as I lowered my trousers and boxer shorts. This time my body was reacting to the right woman, to the one who infuriated me like no other and whom I loved with all my heart. I pulled off my socks and leaned over the tub. Slowly, I scanned my wife from her painted toenails all the way up to her enchanting eyes, allowing my gaze to linger and enjoy everyplace in between.

  With her hair piled up on her head and small damp curls around her face, she was radiant. When our eyes finally met, my tone was thick with desire. “What, Mrs. Demetri? What can’t I think? What can’t I dare?”

  “You can’t think that sex will make it better.”

  I shook my head as I stood up and stepped into the water near her feet. The temperature was cooler than I expected. The tepid liquid was a comforting contrast to the summer’s humidity. I winked as I drank her in. “Awfully presumptuous of you, Mrs. Demetri. I never said a word about sex. I simply want to join my wife in a cool bath.”

  Her brow lengthened and head tilted as she eyed my obvious arousal. The water rose, getting precariously close to the rim as I lowered myself to the bottom of the tub, lifting her feet one by one onto my legs and facing her.

  “They say cold water...” she began.

  “No, mio angelo. Not with you right there. That’s not happening. I don’t even think it’s possible.” I scooted forward and reached back to pull the plug and allow some of the water to disappear down the drain. Once it was at a safer level, I replaced the plug and turned my attention back to my wife. With my hands on the edge of the tub, I inched closer until our lips touched.

  The concerns from earlier faded, not away, but they mixed with my array of emotions, creating a concoction so overpowering that it bubbled within me, needing an outlet. Momentarily the deals from the day were gone. The anxiety over the growing unrest between the families disappeared. My fears of losing the one person who means everything to me were gone. The only thing that mattered was here and now.

  I wanted my wife.

  “O-Oren...” My name was elongated as my lips continued their assault. “I’m still mad at you.”

  “Good. I’m still mad at you. Answer the damn phone.”

  Hardly foreplay discussion, yet that was exactly what we were doing. Her body was responding in kind as my kisses moved from her sensual lips down her slender neck and to her soft shoulder.

  “Don’t hang up on me again,” I reprimanded as my lips made their way to her breast. I relentlessly taunted her dark pink nipples. Her moans filled the night air as the nub hardened under my touch, and her hips writhed beneath me.

  Angelina entwined her fingers in my hair and pulled me closer as she countered, “Don’t miss dinner again without calling first, not later.”

  “I. Told. You. I. Was. Sorry.” Each word was punctuated with a kiss or a nip.

  Her lips opened, but only whimpers escaped until she foun
d her words. “Oren...did you...?” Her speech was now shaky as her skin peppered with goose bumps. “Did you eat?”

  I kissed lower as my touch feathered her soft curves. “Not yet, mio angelo. Not yet.”

  One day we’d have a large tub, one with jets, that fit both of us. That day hadn’t arrived. I sat back. With my erection bobbing with my movements, I worked my way out of the tub and pulled the plug. Angelina didn’t say another word as I offered her my hand and helped her from the disappearing water. Neither of us worried about the way the liquid dripped from our bodies, trailing across the wood floor as I led her from the bathroom to our bed.

  My timbre was ladened with lust. “I’m going to show you how sorry I am.”

  Her lips curled upward as her gaze softened. “Remember, I’m really mad.” She lay back on the pillow. As I climbed over her, kissing her baby bump that was becoming more than a bump, I moved lower.

  “Really mad?” I asked, peering upward.

  “Uh-huh...” she replied, her voice cracking with desire as her back arched and legs quivered.

  Pulling her ankles over my shoulders, I kissed her hips and inner thighs. I continued to move down her soft, wet body as the water from the bath settled into our sheets.

  “Not for long, mio angelo. Not for long. I promise you’ll forgive me.”

  “R-really mad...”

  Chapter 14

  It was important to understand history to understand the current state of affairs.

  The 1970s had been a disaster for economic growth in the United States in general. The recession was crippling as even energy was conserved.

  That said, at the same time, the opposite was true of the LCN—La Cosa Nostra—families’ influence. During times when businesses failed and unemployment skyrocketed, people needed money.

  Desperate times—desperate measures.

  Profits from gambling increased. The lure of getting something from nearly nothing was enticing. It wasn’t uncommon for a man to bet a full-week’s salary with the hope, dream, and possibility of turning it into a month’s income.