I was feeling pretty good about what I’d accomplished and had a newfound hope that things might just work out in my favor. That feeling grew even stronger the day he showed up in DeLuca’s office.
Over the years, I’d been present at many of DeLuca’s meetings. I simply sat over in my corner and continued to work while he boasted about all the fabulous work he’d done. I had no reason to believe this particular meeting would be any different.
He seemed like your everyday, ordinary kind of guy in his khakis and white dress shirt. But after watching the way he moved, so strong and confident, and the way DeLuca responded to him, so timid and uncertain, I started to realize there was something more to the handsome stranger.
Then, he turned and looked at me.
Reallylooked at me.
Not like I was just some secretary or accountant, but he really saw me—the real me and all my dark secrets. That’s when I realized he was like no man I’d ever known before.
I had no idea what he was doing there, but his presence had DeLuca on edge—which I found quite interesting. I was hoping I might see more of this foreboding stranger, but just as they were about to start talking, DeLuca motioned his head in my direction. Seconds later, one of his men walked over to my desk, took me by the arm, and ushered me out of the room.
I thought that would be the last I’d see of the him.
But I was wrong.
I would be seeing him again very soon.
And he would change my life in ways I couldn’t begin to imagine.
BILLY
“You want to play?”
“That depends. Where’s the game?”
DeLuca sounded on edge as he answered, “My place.”
“I see.”
It had only been a couple of weeks since our meeting, but I wasn’t surprised that Mr. DeLuca was already in need of my services. Bringing the Italian mafia and all their business connections into Nashville would give him direct pipelines from Texas and Memphis, and eventually, he would have the means to branch out to even larger cities up north. But it wouldn’t be easy.
Nashville was already overpopulated with criminals who’d claimed the territory as their own, so he’d have a great deal of resistance to contend with.
But that wouldn’t stop a man like DeLuca.
He was a man who had no moral compass.
He didn’t care about right or wrong.
He was driven by his hunger for money and power, and that had made him one of the most ruthless, callous, and unremorseful men in the city. It also made him a target. There would be many who’d come for him. They would fight for the throne, and like tonight, it would be my job to make it look like the encounter never occurred.
Keeping on track with the script I’d given him, DeLuca remained silent as he waited for me to ask, “How many are playing?”
“I’d say five or six, but it may be more.”
“Okay, I think we can manage that.” I glanced up at the clock, then told him, “Give me five, and the boys and I will be on our way.”
I ended the call, and half-an-hour later, the boys and I were winding down the long driveway to DeLuca’s place in Belle Meade. I was concerned about the possibility of his neighbors seeing or hearing something and causing problems, but the house was sitting on four acres and there was a ten-foot brick wall that wrapped around the perimeter of the home. It was doubtful that anyone saw anything.
As soon as I got out of the van, Antonio appeared with two of his men, and he looked rather agitated as he snarled, “These assholes actually came to my fucking house and tried to take me down. Can you believe that shit?”
“Looks like you handled it.”
“I certainly did.” The smug tone in his voice did little to impress me. Instead, it did just the opposite. “Next time, motherfuckers will think twice before going up against Antonio DeLuca.”
“That they will.”