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PRELUDE TO ITALIAN ROULETTE
MR. BIG
My wife had her eyes closed as we drove back to our house. The wind tugged at the scarf she had over her hair, trying to steal it. But the sight of her so warm and so fucking relaxed…it made me feel impulsive, like when I was in Italy, and the world was a different place for me. My car was home, and the tracks were roads that led to forever.
I wanted her in Greece, her body hot from the sun and from the touch of my hand. I could already feel myself buried deep inside of her. Fucking her right until she shattered around my cock.
My phone rang, and my dash told me it was Gio calling.
Perfect fucking timing.
“Bigatti.”
I expected him to ask me what was up. I looked down and Leonora started laughing.
“Tullio.” Gio’s voice was completely serious. He rarely called me by my first name. “We have a problem.”
My body went rigid.
“Come see me at Paradiso.” The line went dead.
Leonora looked at me, her brows tight. “What was that about?”
“I don’t know, but we’re about to fucking find out.”
I drove straight to Paradiso and took Leonora’s hand as we walked inside. The doorman greeted us. “Mr. and Mrs. Bigatti.”
Leonora looked down at herself, like she was self-conscious of being in a T-shirt and jeans. I lifted her hand and kissed it. “You look beautiful.”
“This is not exactly the dress code in here, Big.”
“You’re my wife. You have no codes unless it comes to me.”
“Mind if I chill in the bar and grab a bite to eat while you have your meeting? I’m starving. The music sounds really nice too.”
I nodded, then made eye contact with the bartender. He was the same one who was on duty the night I found Leonora. He’d given me the information on her. I nodded to my wife and gave him a look—a look he knew meant he better take care of her, or his luck would run out in Vegas.
I kissed her hand. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll save you a seat. Should I order you anything?”
I told her to surprise me and watched as she claimed a table close to the stage.
When I made it to Gio’s penthouse, he was pacing in his office, his two dogs staring at him. He was still wearing the tux from the night of the celebration, the bow undone and hanging loosely around his neck. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had a five o’clock shadow. He smelled like old alcohol and sweat.
He slipped me a piece of paper across his desk.
Lou Rispoli came into the casino for the meeting. Thought it was going to be too busy for anyone to notice, like I thought. Corrado and I chased him out. He was with the man he’s been having meetings with. Turns out, the guy was a fed. Both are eating sand.
My eyes flashed to his. You killed an undercover agent?
He nodded at the question in my eyes.
“Fuck.” I sat back and took a deep breath. I used the lighter on his desk, next to the cigars, to burn the paper.
Gio sat in his chair, more like plopped, which was unusual for him. He guzzled whiskey straight from the bottle.
“Old man Gio?” I asked.
