King's Baby: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Read online

  Finally pulling away, I looked down at her and admitted what had been running through my mind that morning.

  “So, I don’t think I’m going back to the club,” I said. I didn’t see a need to try and work it into the conversation, knowing she would be happy about it.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Yeah, really. If you think you can get your information faster than I can, then there’s not really a point is there?”

  “Oh, King!” Christy beamed up at me and leaned forward, planting a kiss on my temple. “Thanks for trusting me. I know my girls won’t let me down. The dancers know everything, and they’ll definitely help me out, after what Rossi did to me.”

  “Good, I’m counting on it.”

  # # #

  Christy turned out to be right about her dancers. She carefully met up with a few of them over the next few days, always in different places so she could be as inconspicuous as possible. I was glad she was being careful with her hunt for evidence, but I didn’t really believe that she would be able to find anything out so quickly.

  When she called me over a few nights later, opening the door with the most excited expression I had ever seen plastered all over her face, I knew she’d found something.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “None of the dancers said they knew anything in particular about Rossi,” she began. “But a few of them mentioned a guy that might be able to help us.”

  “What guy? Do you know anything about him?” It seemed strange to me that the dancers pointed her in the direction of one man. I wasn’t sure if it was a setup, or if he could actually help, but I was willing to find out.

  “His name is Andres Romano. I get the impression that he’s really big and important, almost like they were scared to talk about him. None of them has ever met him though.”

  “So, it’s just a bunch of rumors, then? Are you sure you want to go there?”

  “I do. This could be our only chance. Will you help me find him?”

  Christy looked up me pleadingly, willing me to say that I would. I wasn’t sure what gave her the impression that I would say no. We were in it together now, and it wasn’t like I would let her go after a potentially powerful and dangerous man on her own.

  “Yeah, I’ll help you. Give me a few days, and I’ll ask around.”

  It turned out that a few days weren’t even necessary to find out about Andres Romano. He was well-known on the streets and with a few of my old contacts. It surprised me that almost all of them warned me to keep myself clear of him.

  “You don’t want to get involved in that, King,” I was told on many occasions. “Just steer clear.”

  Of course, I told them all that I couldn’t do that. They all reluctantly told me to go to the same place; a tall building on the outskirts of the city that screamed danger. It was the kind of building that you could pass by every day for years and still never know who went inside, or what was done in there. It was unassuming and threatening at the same time.

  Christy had, of course, demanded that she come, and as much as I tried to stop her, she was incredibly persistent. If I hadn’t let her in the car, she would’ve, no doubt, found a way to follow me. I was worried for her, though, and I wished would stay behind until I scoped out the place and hopefully found the man we were looking for. It was especially worrying when I thought about how the place was so dangerous that all my contacts—big, burly, men who weren’t scared of anything—had warned me adamantly to stay away.

  We approached the building carefully, eyes peeled. I kept up my persona of confidence to reassure both Christy and myself. My shoulders were back, my chin up, and my stride assured, as I prepared for whatever came our way.

  “Stop.” A voice called out as we climbed the stairs to the—front door.

  I almost hadn’t seen him when we approached, his dark suit blending in the shadows of the building.

  “State your name and purpose.”

  If it was at any other time, I might have cracked a smile at his completely blank face and tone, but I remained as impassive as he was.

  “King DeLeon. I’m looking for a Andres Romano.” I willed Christy to stay silent beside me and, thankfully, she did. The man’s eyes flickered to Christy for a moment, but, almost simultaneously, I stepped slightly in front of her, a physical barrier between them. The guard understood my non-verbal message completely and, thankfully, didn’t press it, shifting his gaze back to mine.

  “And why exactly do you need to meet with him?” The man continued, with his same monotonous voice.

  “That’s something I’d like to discuss with him,” I replied.

  The man raised his eyebrows at me uncaringly, but he raised a hand to his ear, where there must have been an earpiece.

  “Frank, I have a King DeLeon to see the boss.”

  A pause and then, “He won’t say. Just wants to speak with him.”

  Another brief silence, and then, “Okay, I’ll wait.”

  He looked at me as if asking whether I had gotten the message, and I nodded in agreement, sliding my hands into my pockets and preparing myself for a long wait.

  Christy turned to me, widening her eyes and gesturing subtly with her head at the man behind us. I could almost hear her saying, ‘this is so weird, right?’

  I nodded a fraction, trying not to let my apprehension show. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew we were potentially in more danger than we were prepared for, but it was too late to back out now.

  It was a surprisingly short time before the man lifted a hand to his earpiece again.

  “Come with me,” he called a moment later, turning on his heel and walking into the building. The guard led us through the ground floor and through the double doors at the other end of the level. On the other side was a courtyard of sorts, hidden away from the view of the street.

  We stood there waiting for a few moments, until we heard others approaching.

  Four men were walking towards us. Three of them I didn’t recognize, but one of them I did. I knew it wasn’t the man we were looking for, but, rather, his goons. The man I recognized, though, was one who frequented the club along with someone else. Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle began falling into place.

  Four men were walking toward us, and I realized immediately that none of them were the man we had come to see, but just a few of his goons. I raked my eyes over the men and found that I actually recognized one of them. He was a man who had come into the club not so long ago, but, what was really interesting, was the fact that he’d come with someone else. I almost released a sound of surprise as the pieces of the puzzle started falling into place. If this man worked for the same person who he’d gone to the club with, then that meant that Andres Romano, the man we were looking for, was the leader of the mafia, Christy’s favorite client, and the man I’d seen beat up Rossi a few weeks ago.

  “King DeLeon,” one called, as they approached. “I have heard many things.”

  “Where’s Romano? I asked to speak with him.”

  The men all let out knowing laughs.

  “You cannot just come here, waltz in, and think you can speak to Mr. Romano. We do not work that way here.”

  It didn’t surprise me that he would be so well-protected. I wondered what I had to do to be able to actually meet with him. There wasn’t a chance in hell that it would be something easy, and I knew we were in for some trouble now. Hopefully I’d still be able to protect Christy, though.

  “If you want to meet with Mr. Romano, you will need to pass a test of sorts.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that, and, apparently, neither did Christy, who was absently gripping one of my hands tightly in her own.

  One of the men step forward and began talking off his suit jacket, undoing his black tie, and rolling up the crisp, white sleeves of his shirt.

  “This is Bobby, one of our new prospects. Fight with him, and, if you win, you can meet with Mr. Romano. Simple?” The man spread his hands out to the side, in a gesture that
seemed to imply I was lucky for a challenge so easy. I knew it would be harder than expected, though. I hadn’t trained for a fight in months—over a year even—and the last fight I’d been in had led me to passing out on the floor.

  I couldn’t let that happen tonight. The thought of an unprotected Christy, alone in this place while I was knocked out, was something that I never wanted to dwell on.

  “All right,” I agreed, as if I had any choice.

  “Be careful,” Christy whispered to me as I turned to her.

  “You too,” I warned. She had better not get into any trouble while I was distracted.

  Christy nodded and went to stand safely a little way away, and I finally turned to the young prospect before me.

  He was built much the same as I was, though a little leaner and a little taller. We started circling each other, eyes analyzing the other’s every movement. I didn’t know much about him, but if he was a prospect, then he would be eager to prove himself. I could use that to my advantage, wait for him to strike, and use his sloppy moves against him.

  As I expected, the prospect only waited another moment before throwing his first punch—a light one that I dodged easily. It wasn’t intended to hit me, but just to test the waters.

  He threw another jab, then another, both of which I dodged easily. The man was getting a little worked up, glancing to the other guys and back to me, probably scared he wouldn’t be able to impress them. I almost felt for the guy, even though it had nothing to do with me.

  I needed to strike soon, and I took my opportunity with his next jab, dodging it and then throwing a punch of my own. It connected with his shoulder, and I was quick to pull back. The prospect seemed to physically steel himself and then charged forward, throwing a multitude of quick hits in my direction, only two of which I blocked before I was hit in the stomach and chest. He continued his assault, until I flung a leg out and caught him right in the kneecap.

  The man stumbled back only slightly before regaining his balance. While he was distracted, I landed a jab to his side and another to his stomach. Without warning, his fist sailed through the air and caught me right in the face. I felt the blood begin to pour down my nose, and I cursed internally at not having seen that coming. Christy would probably be going out of her mind right about now.

  The prospect used my distraction to land another blow and, then, almost another one, but I successfully blocked it, feinted left, and then landed a solid punch to the right side of his jaw.

  A sickening crack sounded out as he stumbled back, even as his eyes remained on me. He came back at me with a vengeance, but was now sloppier with his moves. I easily dodged most of them, but a few managed to land on me. I found an opening in his assault and went for it, landing two hits on his stomach. As I feinted a hit for his side, which he went to block, my other hand struck and uppercut to the jaw that knocked him back a few feet.

  He wobbled uncertainly, and I took the moment to land one more firm punch, watching as he sank to his knees and fell backward onto the concrete.

  I turned to Christy and gave her a look of reassurance, as she stood there relieved, a hand covering her mouth as she watched on.

  The men on the left were talking amongst themselves, finally turning to me a moment later.

  “Well done, Mr. DeLeon. You may go up to see him now.”

  I turned and held a hand out to Christy, waiting until she was near, before pulling her tight against me. We moved to follow the man, but he stopped and held up a hand.

  “No, no,” he said, with an unapologetic look on his face. “Only one can meet with him. The other stays here.”

  Christy and I exchanged a look, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. It was a lose-lose situation, but I supposed it couldn’t be helped. I’d prefer her up there with Romano, than down here with these men, especially since Romano seemed to favor her.

  “You go,” I said to her.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Good luck.”

  Christy nodded firmly and then followed after the man, disappearing into the building.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Christy

  I was terrified. Leaving King behind in the courtyard below felt like an idea that was destined to go wrong, and I knew that it was. The men must have known that splitting us up would make us nervous, or at least make me nervous, and for that I commended them. If their goal was to rattle me, then they had succeeded.

  Meeting Romano in the state that I was would end up being a disaster. I just knew it. I had been counting on King standing by my side, supporting me, while we tried to strike up a deal with Romano. What was I going to do on my own?

  My mind wandered to King, who would be waiting downstairs for my arrival. I had to get this right. I couldn’t go back down empty-handed—not after what I’d just made King go through. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t known there would be a test. I still felt wholly responsible for the fight downstairs, and that guilt wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

  King and I should have known nothing would be easy when we’d decided to come here. It was the Mafia, so of course they would have a test and only let one of us go up. The brawl had been intense, even if I was only watching. King had been calm and restrained the entire time, analyzing the prospect’s movements and waiting for a time to attack. I’d never seen him so calculating and controlled. For a moment, I’d been worried that he’d lose, when his bloody nose had snapped his concentration, and he seemed to freeze for a moment. Thankfully, he’d come out on top, though I had no idea what was going on there now. For all I knew, they were ganging up on him, and I would go down to find him in an unconscious state, like I had that one time in the club.

  If only King were with me, then I would feel infinitely safer, and I would know what to do when I met Romano. As it was, I was scared out of my mind and didn’t have a clue what to say to him. Would I just blurt out my theories, even though I didn’t have any substantial proof? King had been right. I should’ve thought this through more.

  The trip up the elevator seemed to last a lifetime, as the man and I rose to the highest floor. He was entirely silent, though I hadn’t expected him to say anything. I felt nervous laughter bubble up in my throat, and it was a substantial effort to force it down. I was glad that I hadn’t started speaking out of nervousness, like I often did. I had a feeling that the man wouldn’t have taken to kindly to it

  Finally, a ding sounded out, and the doors slid apart.

  “You may enter,” the man beside me gestured with a hand. I stepped out of the lift, onto the top floor, and looked around curiously. Opening my mouth to ask the man where to go, I realized that he hadn’t stepped out of the lift. I turned to see the doors slide shut behind me and realized in the resounding silence that I was on my own.

  To calm my nerves, I took in the top floor of Romano’s building. The place was beautiful; it had windows on all sides, with a great view of the city around us, a plush sofa on one end of the room, and an office at the other.

  I could see a light on inside the office, a dim one that cast an eerie glow through the glass doors. The entire place was extravagant, but somehow exactly what I had expected.

  Taking a few hesitant steps, I reached the office door and rapped three times on the glass.

  “Enter,” a voice called.

  It was now or never. Steeling my nerves and suppressing any fear, I strode confidently through the doors.

  The sight that awaited me caused a loud gasp to leave my mouth. In front of me, pouring wine into two glasses was Andres Romano. That’s not what shocked me, though. I was shocked because I knew who he was. I’d spent time with him. I’d danced for him. He was my favorite client, for crying out loud. How could he be the one I was looking for?

  King had been right all along. He’d probably realized it as soon as we arrived here, too, but I’d been entirely distracted and didn’t stop to think for a moment about who Romano might be. This changed everything.

  “Wo
uld you like a drink, Christy?”

  He held out the wine glass to me, and I hesitantly accepted it. “Thanks.”

  There was a moment of silence as he stared me down, and I adjusted to the shock of seeing him.

  “Do you want to sit?” He gestured to the empty leather seat on the other side of his desk, and I complied again, sitting down hesitantly and placing my glass down.

  “I’ve never heard you say so much,” I said then, immediately cursing myself internally for my stupidity.

  To my relief, he let out a loud laugh. “Oh, Christy, there are plenty of things you haven’t seen or heard me do.”

  I smiled slightly and raised my glass to my mouth again.