Two Hitmen: A Double Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 1) (96 page)

He couldn’t resist asking her, “Doesn’t the place look great? Don’t you love what I’ve done it?”

“Ask me when you’ve handed it back to us, Mr. Agostini.”

“But you’ve got to admit, it looks a whole lot better.”

“Well, let’s see. Why don’t we take the deeds to your penthouse and put them in my name? See how long it takes you to see how much better they look there.” Well, he could understand that. He respected her for it, too.

He gave her a copy of the guest list for the big event, printed with photographs, and he ran through all of the names.

She scanned quickly down the list. “No, as you said, no women.”

“You’re right.” The sarcastic tone infiltrated his voice before he could stop it. “I didn’t consider guests by height, weight, or hair color, either.” He didn’t mind too much about her making the jibe, but this was business and there was work to do.

“Most of these people won’t be investors at the end. I’m hoping to wind up with about six, and I have an idea who they’ll be, but it’s important that everybody’s treated right.”

He went back over each of the names on the list and told her something about the firm or the fund they represented, and a little about them personally. He was pleased that she already knew most of the men, and she had something to say about several of them.

He said, “Miflin is the number one holdout, and he’ll be an opinion leader. If he’s in favor, they’ll all want in.”

She said, “I’ve seen him in here before. He’s not a member, but let me try to remember who it was that I saw him here with.” Pierce liked the conspiratorial look she gave him. He held her gaze.

He said, “He’s a professor of banking law.”

“At NYU. I remember. There was a girl—a dancer, I think—who he couldn’t keep his eyes off.”

Pierce kept his face straight, but he was impressed. He took Princess through the timing of his presentation. It would start early enough that everyone will still be able to focus and concentrate.

“They’ve already had the bones of the proposal outlined in the pack that went out with their invite. They all understand and they’re all interested, otherwise they wouldn’t have gotten the invite.”

She folded the list and slipped it into her pants pocket.

He asked her, “Have all of the dancers and hostesses been confirmed?”

“Yes. The DJ is flying in and I found us a red-hot mixologist to make signature cocktails for the evening.”

He asked her to take him through the cocktail menu and snacks, and she at least seemed impressed with his appreciation for the details.
 

As they talked, he realized that she was leaning against his arm. At the same moment, she seemed to realize it, too, and straightened up.

He took care not to smile as she moved just an inch away. He thought that she was holding back a smile, too.

Calhoun and Callaghan would be in charge of the security detail, and with a buzz right in his solar plexus, Agostini thought,
This is going to go like clockwork
.

The night of the launch, Princess took pride in sheathing her shapely legs in fine nylons. The fact that she had bought them with his money, and without his knowledge, added another level of thrill.

The grip, the tension and the secret promise of the stockings thrilled her.
Why
, she asked herself,
who are you hoping to show them to?
She turned to get a three-quarter view in the mirror. The silky thin, loose panties grazed the lowest curve of her ass beautifully, she thought.
I’ll show them to nobody
,
her thought ran on.
To me
. And her smile twinkled darkly.
Probably
.

Princess stationed herself in the VIP area as members, guests and girls arrived. All the people who she knew were eager to voice their praise.

“I just
love
what you’ve done here.”

“So on trend.”

“This will be a new benchmark.”

Cocktails flowed and she heard an enthusiastic buzz for the relaunch. Dino was dazzling in white tails with a white cravat and a silver-tipped ebony cane. Julz hung on one arm, Shawna on the other, and Kat and Mona followed them into the club. He bobbed his head and whispered in their ears, then grinned widely when they exploded in giggles.

A worry of Princess’ was that her father hadn’t shown his face since she arrived. That was not a good sign.

Through the clink of glasses, she heard a voice she recognized. “It’s a brave scheme, but I have it on good authority that FCC transmission licenses are going to be tough to clear.”

With a smile, she stepped over to where the group stood and extended her hand. “Professor Miflin,” Princess let him take her offered hand, “I’m so glad you could join us tonight. Were you just talking about the FCC?”

He smiled indulgently. “That’s right, my dear.”

“The Federal Communications Commission?”

“Why, yes,” he gave her a twinkle and a patrician smile, “it is.” And he squeezed her hand.

She took his arm. “Come and meet Judge Dean. I believe he sits on the board of the FCC. He should be able to help answer your questions.”

On the way to the games room where she’d seen the judge, they passed the tall, Eurasian dancer Princess remembered Miflin casting his eyes at. Princess had made a point of persuading her to come, and encouraging her to arrive early.

“Here’s Trixibelle. You know Trixibelle, Professor?”

The lovely dancer turned and rose from her chair to give him the full gleam of her smile. Miflin’s watery eyes were wide. Her caramel skin was poured into a shimmering cream dress and her dark scent was intoxicating. He said, “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Trixibelle,” Princess beckoned with her free hand, “the professor and I are heading for the games room. Would you like to join us?” Trixibelle batted her lashes as she nuzzled against the professor’s other arm.
 

Princess opened the door for them. In the shadows, she saw Pierce watching her with what looked like an approving smile.

A glow rose inside her. Even remodeled, Hotsteppa’s was still her territory, and running the club was her line of work. However angry the circumstances made her, this was still where she belonged, and she was good at her job.

Princess made introductions for Miflin and the judge, who happened to also be making friends with a dancer.
You’ll have a whole lot in common
, she thought.

She missed a beat in the sparkling chatter as she saw her father at the poker table. Princess smiled as she excused herself.

Standing behind her father’s seat, Princess smiled around the table as she whispered, “Daddy, could I have a word with you about the kitchen staff, please?”

He offered a thin smile and squeezed her hand on his shoulder. He said, “It’s not our club anymore, Princess. Not
my
club.”

He moved to let go of her hand, but she held on. “But it
is
. It will be.” She crouched to speak into his ear. “At least, it will if you don’t submerge us in dumb gambling debts again.” She gave his shoulder a tight squeeze. “Daddy, how can you do this? Stop, please, just stop right now.”

“Darling, you’ve got your solution, I’ve got mine.” She recognized the smile he gave her. It was the assured glow of a man carried on the warm, magic carpet of a few bourbons.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please.” The French accent of the croupier came from the roulette table. “Those of you here for the presentation, would you please take your seats. All other guests and players, please, please leave your chips and cards in place. Play is suspended for now. The games room will reopen in forty-five minutes. Thank you,
Merci
.”

As the other players at the table rose, her daddy said to the dealer, “Well, I suppose that I can stay while the snake oil gets sold.” The shake of the dealer’s head was polite, but firm.

A sharp pang stabbed in Princess’ chest as she watched her daddy shuffle out of the room. She didn’t want to see him at the table, but still she hated to watch him be treated like a gambler stretching his welcome.
 

She moved to follow her father as Agostini entered the room. “Stay,” he said, and as his hand encouraged her with a press in the small of her back, a vibrant glow came off his palm and bolted though her.

She wanted to go after her father. She said, “I have to go and—” But Agostini cut her off.

“Watch the audience. I want to know if you think they’re getting it. Gauge their reactions for me. Stand near me.”

“As what, the magician’s lovely assistant? What will I be doing?”

“You’ll be representing the club. And dazzling them with your loveliness.” She frowned. He said, “Just smile as you look at them. No one’s going to ask why you’re there.”

When he said that, it made her she want to stamp the pike of her heel through his shoe. They were in front of the seated guests and he turned to shine a thousand-watt smile across the waiting audience.

Princess figured that skewering the host’s foot and crippling him right now might not be taken in the spirit of “helping to make the evening a spectacular success.”

Agostini stepped onto the dais and stood behind the lectern. She stood to the side of him and looked in the faces of the men seated in rows in front of them. Barney, Miflin, Tranter, Cane, and Clemson she knew, and about half of the others. All off the rest she recognized from the pictures on Agostini’s guest list.

She wondered whether he really wanted her observations or if she was just a prop. There was no shortage of beautiful and glamorous women in attendance in the club for the occasion, and she knew that any number of them would happily spend twenty minutes smiling at a rear view of Pierce Agostini.

He began, “Ladies and gentlemen,” with a little smile for her. He took his time and spoke slowly, and he held the attention of the room. Her inner thighs quivered as he slowly opened the big, black book.

“You know the proposition. A parcel of government land in western Pennsylvania is due to be released, and it will open the route to a shorter data line between the Chicago and New York exchanges.

“A shorter wire between the exchanges means faster information for the subscribers. That’s a competitive advantage, and that means money. The last time this was done, a saving of just twelve
milliseconds brought annual revenues of over a hundred
billion dollars to the owners of the line.”

Agostini took his time and looked around the room. He waited to let everyone take in the numbers before he turned a page of the ledger.

“Three parcels of property stand in between the existing data line and the government land.”

The heavy cream pages made an excellent and expensive swish as he turned them. Turning the page gave him a chance to sweep the guests with a glance. Show them that the evening was all about them.

At the same time, he could judge how engaged they were. How closely they were paying attention.

“With new, high-tech switches, the new cable route will cut more than thirty milliseconds off the one-way access time, and that’s by a conservative estimate. For high-frequency traders, the value of the faster speed of this line is immense.”

He watched carefully, checking that all of his audience were following and taking it in. “On the shortest route between the government land and the existing data pipe there are, as I mentioned, just three parcels of land.”

This was the point. Here, he had to be sure. He needed every one of the potential investors to understand the how huge the value of the proposition was. He looked around the seated audience. They all leaned forward on their chairs and their eyes all gleamed.

“We have the rights—not promises, not undertakings—the actual rights,” he waited, “to all three properties.”

They applauded. Three men stood. He didn’t expect that. Well, whether they had completely understood it or not, Pierce Agostini had made enough deals to know buyers when he saw them. Every one of his hand-picked invitees was ready.

He turned the next page. When he lifted his hand, the room fell silent as he said, “Back here in this room at one a.m., we will hold an auction for shares in the company that will own those rights.” They began to applaud again and he had to shout, “And you’re all invited to bid.” Everyone rose to their feet.

They all came toward the stage with glows of wonder on their faces.
Well
, he told himself,
you did just offer to make them a lot of money
. He stepped off the dais to greet and be greeted.

Miflin was at the front of the surge. Everyone wanted to shake Pierce’s hand, pump his arm, and, he guessed, curry favor. They all wanted in. It looked like a perfect result.

Having Princess at his side while he made the address had felt good. Her presence gave him a new and unfamiliar kind of strength. And he was really starting to like looking at her, seeing her nearby. Every time he looked, there was more to this girl.

And every time he looked at her, he liked what he saw some more. It was a shame she was so infuriating to be around when she was so good to look at.

Princess watched as the doors opened to allow the players back to their gaming tables. Already at the door, her father was waiting.

Princess made it look as unhurried as she could, making her way over to him. She tried to block his path. “Daddy, this could go on and end up really badly. Please, please stop.”

“I will, Princess. Of course I will. I’d do anything for you, Princess.” He moved to step around her. “Just let me win back what I lost here.”

“Daddy, no.”

“Oh but, well, you know, it was quite a lot, Princess.

“Daddy, please. Please. Just stop.”

He gave her a smile that made her heart sink. “Sure, Princess. I’m just going to turn it around and then I’ll stop. I promise.

Before she could stop him, over her father’s shoulder Princess saw a blond head with a pair of watery gray eyes. His smile sent a chill dripping down her spine. Yvgeny wore a white tux with a black shirt and pants and a thin black bowtie.
 

His head dipped in what looked like a formal greeting. Arthur Cane stepped out of the room toward him and the two men slipped into a booth together.