Page 13 of Paolo DeLuca
Gino was grating on his nerves.
“Nothing.” His cugino threw up his hands in submission. “It’s just you look like you want to fuck me up right now.” He laughed. “I assure you, cugino, I’ve not fucked Lyric. She’s like a little sister to me. I want things done right by her.”
Paolo internalized Gino’s explanation. He wouldn’t do right by any woman, let alone a sweet girl like Lyric. Paolo nodded, then took a sip of the beer he grabbed from the bartender as he entered the dais. “You don’t have to worry about that then,” he answered.
Paolo needed to think with his head instead of his dick when it came to her. Gino was right. Lyric was too sweet to survive in their world. She was too innocent to be corrupted by a savage like him. If he got involved with her, he would taint her, and he couldn’t do that. Not when Cali was somewhere out there. Paolo focused. Cali needed to be found and dealt with. For now, Lyric Mason was the furthest thing from his mind.
“You looked at the footage from the night those bills showed up?” Paolo asked Gino over the bass of the Hip Hop music blaring through the speakers and bouncing off the walls.
“Just the night it happened, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of it!” he yelled back over the music. “I haven’t had another chance.”
“Let’s check it out.” Paolo crooked his head toward his office. “I’m sure there’s something there. Maybe we can see what these guys look like since Lyric couldn’t remember.”
His dick stirred mentioning her name. He’d love to get it wet between Lyric’s legs. He adjusted himself as he and Gino made their way back to the office. Gino closed the door and locked it behind him as Paolo walked to a section of the wall farthest from his desk. He pushed gently, and the wall sunk in and opened. The most sophisticated security and surveillance system Paolo had ever seen was directly facing him. The one at his condo was its only rival.
A monitor covered one wall. Every nook and cranny of his club was visible. He could see who came in and out of every door. Who ventured down the hallway to the restroom. Who occupied the deepest and darkest corners of the club. But right now, they were more interested in the cameras facing both ends of the bar Lyric manned and the one facing the floor that night.
“What are you looking for?” Gino asked, taking one of the rolling chairs next to him.
“No one’s looked at these closely, right?”
“No, we didn’t think to.”
Paolo went to work on the keys, pulling up the footage from a week ago. “What nights did Lyric work last week?”
“Let’s see.” Gino rubbed his chin in thought. “I hired her that Sunday after you left. She worked that Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday nights.”
Paolo’s fingers glided over the keyboard, searching for the videos from Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday nights. They were all stored on the computers he had installed. Everything was saved; nothing was erased. That was a wise decision on his part. “Now, let’s go through these vids.”
Two hours later, they had printouts of the guys who funneled Cali’s bills into his club.
“I think I recognize one of them,” Gino said. “Local gang called Los Barones Rojos.” The Red Barons.
“Fuck! They know the goddamn rules. This is my fucking city. Everyone, my place, in one hour.”
While Gino left to prepare, Paolo studied each picture of the three Barons he pulled from the surveillance videos. Those fuckers were going to wish they had never heard of Paolo DeLuca when he got done with them. He wasn’t his father. No, he was something much worse.
Blood would flow in the streets of Miami, and people would remember.
