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CHAPTER NINE
FRANCO
For the first time in years, I was intimate with a woman. At twenty-nine going on thirty, this was the perfect time to get married. Well. that was what I’d heard before. But seriously, it was the right time. I had it all. The empire, billions of dollars, private jets, cars, homes across the world. The one thing I didn’t have was a beautiful woman to share it with. Now my life was complete. At the forefront of my mind, I thought about the lifestyle I was bringing my soon to be wife and child into. At times, it could be a life of chaos. I’d do all I could to keep them safe.
A good friend of mine, Dillon Magarelli, the Don of the New Jersey Magarelli Crime Family, had run into many situations in recent years that involved keeping his family safe. Dillon and I met when he was living in Portland as Jeff. Yeah, that was a story for another day. A couple of years ago, he asked if I’d keep an eye on his wife’s ex-husband, Jeremy Crawford, the quarterback for the Seattle Seahawks. He’d befriended a psychopath. Jeremy didn’t know that at the time, of course. Dillon wanted to ensure Jeremy didn’t get involved with anymore people who secretly planned to destroy the Magarellis. So far, so good. Dillon checked in with me once a month. When he called next Monday, I’d ask him for marital advice.
I remembered the other night, after me and Kennedy’s first fantastic fuck session, I carried her into our bedroom and placed her on the bed. My phone vibrated across the nightstand, then stopped.
I grabbed the phone. Kennedy sank into the pillows, waiting patiently. I had twenty missed calls from Duke. The phone vibrated again.
Sitting beside her, I rested my head against the headboard, pulling Kennedy into my arms as I brought the phone to my ear.
Duke didn’t bother saying hello. He yelled obscenities. While he continued on his bullshit rant about Lungy’s dead body lying on his property, I nuzzled Kennedy’s neck.
“Do you want it?” I asked.
“Yes, please,” she moaned as I squeezed her ass.
Silence fell over the line.
“Is that Kennedy?” Duke asked. There was bitterness in his voice.
He knew the answer to his question. But I answered anyway.
“Yes, Duke, that’s Kennedy. My woman.”
“I can’t believe you’re fucking her.”
My blood boiled in my veins. “Fucking watch it,” I warned.
“She’s a runner. She’ll leave you.” A sarcastic chuckle left his throat.
“Oh, because she left your abusive ass?” I asked, releasing Kennedy as I sat up. “What woman wants some asshole who claims he loves her to choke her to death? None,” I bit out.
“Don’t worry about Kennedy. Worry about what I left at your house a few hours ago. If you noticed, there was something missing. The missing part was delivered to Orazio. If he calls with the same level of disrespect, you’re giving, it will be clear that I have two more enemies to deal with. I’ve treated you with respect every time we’ve executed business deals. You’re a jealous motherfucker. I want you to hear this from me first. Kennedy and I are getting married. You and I will meet soon.”
