Page 5 of Because I Need You
“Masseria?” I whispered. “Like Giovanni Masseria?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know this?” I asked.
“I’m his lawyer. It’s my job to know as much as possible.”
I scoffed. “And I’m his daughter, and he didn’t tell me shit about shit.”
“Your signature was on a lot of those papers upstairs,” he said. “That’s probably how you ended up unknowingly signing the marriage license.”
Fuck. I remembered signing a lot of papers growing up. This is for my company. I want to make sure your name is on my things just in case. I’d just sign. Blindly. Because that was the kind of trust I had in my father. I swallowed and met Dave’s blue eyes again.
“I take it he was involved in illegal activity,” I whispered, looking down at the toe box of my red bottom heels. A gift from my father.
Jesus. Had I been blind? No. I refused to believe any of this had been written on the walls and I just didn’t catch on. He’d taken me to work with him when I was little. He’d driven me around in his truck. He hadn’t hidden me from anyone. At least, it didn’t seem that way.
“Nothing your name is on was illegal,” Dave said, which should have made me feel better.
“My boyfriend is the mayor of New York, Dave.” I met his eyes. “I can’t have anything on me that’ll tarnish his name.”
“The mayor?” His brows shot up. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was.” I let out a laugh that held no amusement as I looked away. “I seriously wish I was.”
“I only know one address for The Masseria Family. It might be where you can find Giovanni,” he said. “If you tell him you didn’t know about the marriage license and explain your situation maybe he’ll agree to a divorce.” He shrugged. “It can’t hurt.”
“Right.” I nodded absently. “Just, yeah, give me his information.”
He did and we said our goodbyes as I walked out of the building. I didn’t know Chicago. Not really. I hadn’t even stepped foot here since I was eighteen, just before my high school graduation. Dad always visited me when he wanted to see me. I’d stopped visiting frequently when I was fourteen, because he was never home. He was always getting late night phone calls and taking off. Sometimes he’d be back by morning. Other times, he’d be gone an entire day. I never told my mother out of fear that she’d pick that to pretend she cared and somehow stop letting me see him all together. Instead, I told him I was busy with school and activities and friends, and he’d understood. He started visiting me instead on random weekends.
Sometimes he’d get us both rooms at fancy hotels and let me order room service and bring a friend. I loved those visits. That stopped me dead in my tracks, just feet away from my rental car. Holy shit. He’d never missed a child support payment. He’d paid all of my college tuition, books, and expenses. He’d bought me my first car — a brand-new white Volvo. The safest car at the time — and I’d never, ever thought to question where he got the money. He was always busy, always working, growing his business. Once I was inside my rental car, I gave myself a moment to let it all out. I cried harder than I’d cried all week, screamed louder than ever, and hit the steering wheel a few times, accidentally hitting the horn once. Then, I took a deep breath, wiped my tears, and collected myself, the way I always did, and I set out to find out who the fuck Giovanni Masseria was.
2
GIO
I hadn’t even finished shaking the sand out of my shoes from my week-long vacation in Turks & Caicos and I already had my brother-in-law and my right-hand-woman, Nadia, staring me down from across the desk. When Nadia called me, demanding I come into the office, I knew it was important. When she said Lorenzo was flying in for the meeting, I knew it was very important and involved money. There was always a problem, always an obstacle, and always a solution, but I wanted to deal with none of the above right now.
“Let’s hear it.” I waved a hand, impatient. “How much money am I losing?”
Lorenzo cracked a smile at that, but grew serious when he said, “Charles Bonetti is dead,” Lorenzo said.
“Shit. Really?” My brows rose. “Was it a hit?”
Lorenzo shrugged a shoulder.
“That’s important,” I said, “Because if it was a hit, someone may be trying to take the remaining four members out.”
“Dean said it was natural causes,” Nadia said.
I sat back in my chair, letting it rock a little. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Charles. He’d grown up with my father and was still very close friends with him. Growing up, I called him Uncle Charles, but I called a lot of people who weren’t my uncles “uncle.” My father was the reason Charles Bonetti had a seat at the table with The Family. There were five occupied seats. Well, four now, with Charles gone. I wondered if Dad had caught wind of this yet. Probably. No, definitely. There wasn’t much he didn’t know about. I looked at Lorenzo again.
