Crossing Roman (Genoa Mafia Series Book 1)

  Crossing Roman

  Genoa Mafia Series Book I

  By Ginger Ring

  Crossing Roman

  Copyright © 2016 by Ginger Ring.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: November 2016

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-888-0

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-888-5

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To one of my favorite Mafia writers, Amy Rahiele.

  Her suggestions for this book kept my bad boys bad and the good parts even hotter.

  Siete famiglia

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

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  Prologue

  Madison

  “What the hell was that?” Stephanie cried.

  A blast from outside rattled several picture frames on the bridal shop wall.

  Madison Miller rose and carefully removed the pins that lined her mouth from tacking up a gown’s hem on the window mannequin. Her coworker’s eyes were the size of saucers.

  Footsteps trampled by the front door of the shop. Madison rushed to throw it open to see what the commotion was about. Fire roared, tearing up a car only a few shops away. The red flames licked the air around it, threatening everything in a three-foot radius.

  “Holy crap.” Stephanie, her best friend and assistant, was at her back craning to see.

  A shopkeeper held a fire extinguisher and pointed it toward the blaze. Its small puffs of white barely touched the pyre that started off a typical retail day with a bang. A huge crowd started to encircle the inferno, keeping at a distance. Saturday shoppers got more than they bargained for today.

  “Do you think anyone was in the car?” Stephanie hugged her arms across her chest.

  “I don’t know.” Madison chewed her bottom lip.

  “Did the gas tank explode?”

  “I don’t know,” Madison snapped louder.

  “It could spread.” Stephanie continued watching the scene as she leaned heavily on Madison’s back. She was right. The entire string of stores could be engulfed in flames, not leaving out the bridal shop Madison managed for her mother.

  Thankfully, it was early and her typical influx of customers didn’t show up until after lunch. She was just as intrigued and fearful as Stephanie and the rest of the bystanders. Within moments, sirens rang out and she exhaled. The town’s warning siren blasted, calling all the volunteer firefighters in the area to service. Finally, after several minutes, help was on the way. A shiny red fire truck soon roared by and firemen began to fight the fire with a vengeance.

  The buzz of the people on the sidewalk caught her attention. The horrific scene was difficult to tear away from, but her gaze darted into the onlookers and she froze. A tall, dark man in a finely tailored suit made her breath catch in her throat. She knew him. Seeing him again ignited a feeling that she wished to bury deep inside her—a combination of lust and alarm. It made her look away. Her heart pumped erratically at the quiet disruption of harmony in the little town of Genoa caused by both the fire and by this man. Comforted only with the authorities’ arrival on the scene, Madison tugged on Stephanie’s arm.

  “Let’s go in. The firetrucks are here. They will take care of it.”

  She dragged a reluctant Stephanie behind, but Madison stopped up short when her friend stood her ground.

  “Hey, look.” Stephanie pointed. Madison rolled her eyes. She’d seen enough and her anxiety level was at an all-time high. Biting her lower lip, she followed the direction Stephanie indicated only to freeze once again not at the sight of a man, but of a woman. Standing within the crowd, the young lady’s profile made her go icy. The woman had shoulder length brown hair, light skin, and could basically be her sister. The lady even seemed to match her height from what she could tell from a distance.

  “She could pass for your twin, Maddy.” Stephanie still had her hand extended and Madison slapped her arm down.

  “Come on. We have work to do.”

  “But.”

  “No buts. Let’s go.”

  Madison shook everything off. The morning proved to be eventful and it was going to be a struggle to keep her mind on all of the dresses they had to great ready for upcoming weddings and fittings. It’s just easier to shove it all down than deal with the bizarre goings on in town and in her life. Maybe later, at night, in the safety of her home, she’d think about it.

  She stepped over the threshold of her shop with Stephanie in tow. Even inside the warmth of the store, goosebumps rose on her arms. What was happening to her town?

  Chapter One

  January

  One Month Earlier

  When Madison got the call that they’d have to find a new place for bridal event, she wasted no time in driving over to discuss it face to face with the owner.

  “What is the meaning of this?” She was on the verge of a breakdown. Her mother may have owned the only bridal store in the small town of Genoa, Wisconsin but that didn’t mean their annual fashion show wasn’t vital to attracting new customers. “I’ve booked your banquet center every year, year after year.” She sat back in the chair and crossed her legs. “I paid the deposit months ago. What do you mean it’s been cancelled?” Agitated, she swung her foot back and forth.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Mr. Gilmore, the club’s owner, retrieved a check from his drawer and slid it across the desk. “Here’s your money back.”

  “To hell with the money.” Madison pushed the slip of paper back in his direction. “My spring wedding fashion show is always held here the second week of February.” Her voice shook as the panic rose.

  Find a new venue? Everything was set, from the DJ to the caterers. Heck, the ads were already in the paper. The cost alone to change them was going to hit her mother’s pocketbook hard.

  “We’ve had it here, for what?” She waved her hand in the air angrily. “Ten years in a row. How in the world can you say less than a month before the show the place is now booked? By who?”

  “I’m sorry.” The jerk thrust her deposit back in her direction and at least had the decency to look sheepish. “It can’t be helped.” His tone was firm.

  This
was a nightmare. It might be January, but it was still going to be a struggle to find a new place at this short of notice for her family business bridal show, the catalyst that drew new business every year. Not to mention her chance to show off some of her dress designs. It had been her lifelong dream to be a dress designer, but that dream was losing some of its sparkle. Her heart just wasn’t in it as much as when she was younger and it was getting harder and harder to come up with new and exciting ideas.

  She let her breath out loudly and shook her head. “You’ve put me in a horrible position. This show generates a massive portion of our revenue.” Her voice shook with contempt at such a callous man. “All the new brides who got engaged over the holidays are looking for dresses and it’s our chance to showcase our goods.”

  “I know.” The dismissive idiot had the nerve to agree. “We’ve enjoyed hosting it all these years. I wish I could help out but my hands are tied.” He folded his long fingers across his ample stomach.

  His apology did zero to ease her misery. The asshole didn’t realize how quickly this could spiral the bridal business she ran with her mother into the red. Nothing about this made sense. Madison snatched her check, shot to her feet, and rushed to the door.

  She grasped the door handle to leave but made one final attempt to solve this wretched mess. “Do you know anyone, anyone at all who could host our event at this short notice?”

  He leaned forward hesitantly and paused before saying, “Why yes. I do.” The guy’s smile spoke volumes. He was glad she was leaving.

  “Firenza.” Gilmore’s response caused Madison to groan inwardly. “I believe it is available. The new place…you know, where the ball was held last year.”

  A flood of emotion tingled down her neck as she remembered the dance and the tall, dark, dangerous man who’d been there.

  Mr. Gilmore leaned back in his chair. The wooden back screeched with his weight. “I was sure I saw you there. The company you kept was…interesting.” What nerve. How dare he point out he saw her and insinuated about who she was with. “It would be a perfect spot.”

  “Thanks.” She gritted her teeth. “I’ll be sure to give them a call.”

  Madison mumbled to herself on the walk to her car. Give them a call. Never had she been so mad. If she were a gambling person, she’d bet it all that Roman Caponelli paid off Mr. Gilman to force her hand to reach out to his sister’s venue, Firenza, for the bridal event.

  Fastening her seat belt, she beat her fist against the steering wheel. Roman Caponelli, a man whose advances she’d rejected. Mafia, my ass. He’d just moved to town in the fall and was already trying to run the place.

  She’d danced with him on the dreamlike night of the ball. Images of them gliding across the dance floor with his arms tucked around her made her lightheaded. The scent of his costly aftershave was forever locked in her brain. Just a whiff could make her knees weak.

  But Madison did what she did best. She stuffed down the feelings he’d awoken in her because no matter how much electricity hummed between them when they were together, it didn’t change the bottom line—that he was a front runner in the mafia.

  She put the car in drive and hit the gas. Flying around the parking lot faster than she should, Madison came to the exit and slammed on the brakes. The heavy pile of snow on her roof slid down over her windshield.

  “Damn,” she muttered. “Can this day get any worse?” Her shoulders sank and she put the car in park. Huffing with annoyance, she got out of the car and flung the heavy snow off her car with the scraper. Usually she was careful about cleaning it all off the roof, but she’d been in a hurry knowing that her entire year’s work was going down the toilet.

  Settling back in her car seat, Madison backed up and parked her car. She didn’t want to give up, and called a few of the other venues that were already programmed into her phone. Hope died more and more with each call. They were all booked. Of course they were all spoken for, because this was the type of luck she was having.

  The last call was to Bells and Bows Wedding Shop, her mother’s business.

  “Stephanie, how’s it going there?” Madison asked, hoping she’d have better news.

  “I’ve got two wedding parties looking at dresses but other than that, things are under control. Did you get the venue straightened out?” Tittering women’s voices could be heard in the din through the phone.

  “No, we are S.O.L.”

  “What? The show is next month.”

  “I know.” Madison sighed. “I’m at my wit’s end.”

  “Did you try some of the others?”

  “I called everyone I could think of and everything is booked. Maybe we can have it at the playground at McDonald’s.” Madison’s breath frosted the tiny confines of her car and she stabbed the defrost button to clear her foggy windows.

  “I hate to ask but…what about Firenza?” Stephanie knew the subject was a touchy one with her. She’d also been the first one to warn her of the Caponelli family reputation. Roman Caponelli, the man who’d swept her off her feet at the ball was the son of a mob boss and nicknamed Romeo for a reason.

  Madison groaned out loud. “It looks like I don’t have a choice.”

  “No, it doesn’t. Sorry.”

  “Do you want to come with me?” The thought of seeing Roman again had her shaking in her knee-high boots.

  “No. He knows how I feel about him so that probably isn’t a good idea.”

  Madison’s chin hit her chest. “Okay. I can do this. I can fix this.” Madison wasn’t actually sure whether she was reassuring herself or Stephanie.

  “Good luck. Oh, and the cheese factory that’s providing the hors d’oeuvres had a salmonella outbreak.”

  “What?” Madison widened her eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “Afraid so.” More laughter from the shop’s customers sounded over the phone.

  “I’ll add that to my list.” Madison groaned. “Well, I’d better go. I have to solve the first problem before I can think about the rest.” A dull ache started to form in the back of her neck. Stress was building. No venue, no show, no money.

  “Let me know what you find out.”

  “I will. Thanks, Steph. Bye.” Tossing her cell in her purse, Madison drove her car to the one place she said she’d never go again, Firenza.

  It wasn’t that she hated the place; it was quite the opposite. Valentina, Roman’s sister, had done a spectacular job renovating it. The new reception hall and summer restaurant was a remodeled old mansion with a very colorful past. It now had an updated Italian flare. The outside featured ivory stucco and a red tiled roof. During the warm weather, the grounds would be breathtaking with gardens, iron trim, and fountains.

  After turning down Roman’s advances on New Year’s Eve, Madison hadn’t talked to Valentina since. It had only been a few weeks, but she missed her new friend. They’d really hit it off fast.

  Madison phoned the number of the restaurant at Firenza, but only the cleaning crew was there. A dead end. The venue issue needed to be solved or all the non-salmonella poisoned hors d’oeuvres would mean nothing without a place to put them. The Mr. Mouse Cheese Factory had a month to solve their issue which was doable. Finding a venue was next to impossible in such a short time. Chewing on her fingernails, Madison Googled more places that might be about to handle her event. Nothing. She even considered moving it completely out of the area, but her customers and clients would have to travel farther away and that could mean more loss of business.

  She slammed her hand on the steering wheel again while emotions battled it out inside her head. Desperate, she had no choice but to go to the Caponelli homestead—or rather, fortress. The huge estate Roman purchased was set amongst the other mansions and villas along Lake Genoa. The small town of Genoa, Wisconsin, was a couple hours’ drive from Chicago. A good portion of those living on the lake were wealthy inhabitants of the windy city that maintained beautiful homes on the enormous lake in the historic town.

  The drive up t
o Roman’s house, sans Tuscany castle, was halted by estate gates and a guard shack. Through the scrolled iron, Madison noted again, the three stories and sprawling compound. A six car garage sat around the back. She’d not seen the front, which faced the water up close, but she knew there was a boathouse to the side in the front with a large covered patio on top. Many times in the summer she’d taken boat rides with friends or walked the sidewalk that surrounded the entire lake.

  “Welcome, Miss Miller.” The man inside the tiny square guard house greeted her. He must have noted the stunned look on her face. She’d never met this man before but he knew who she was. He gazed down for a second before hitting the button that set the whir of a mechanism in motion and pushed open the large gates.

  “Thank you.” She waved cordially before pressing the gas pedal to propel the car forward up the winding brick driveway. Most of the homes were set way back from any main road. In the past, most people only lived at their lake homes in the summer and they were only accessible by water. Therefore their mail was delivered by boat. It was one of those old traditions that were still maintained and tourists even rode the mail boat as it cruised slowly around the lake. The quick footed delivery person would jump off the front of the boat, deposit the mail in the home owner’s dock mailbox, and then jump into the back of the long boat before it sailed off.

  One of Roman’s bodyguards stood as a sentinel on the front steps as she pulled the car up to park. He opened her car door like he was a beefy valet with enough firepower under his coat to level a small building. Another man stepped forward and held a dog leash as it sniffed the wheels of her car.

  “Hello, Arlo.” Madison knew him. The man was a constant companion to Roman. Anytime she had been in Roman’s company, Arlo was there. The guy was built like a freight train and practically reeked of testosterone. There didn’t appear to be an ounce of fat on him, and he wore a permanent five o’clock shadow better than any male model.