The Books
Zorah sat on the Icaro’s lap and looked at the computer screen in front of her. “What is all this?”
“Well, I know you think I’m nothing more than a thug with an itchy trigger finger, but I thought I would show you a bit of what else I do for my family.” He clicked with his mouse onto a screen, opening a spreadsheet.
“What is all this?”
“This is a record of the businesses we have in America. There is a separate one for our European businesses. Some families need to outsource their accounting and operations.” He tapped the side of his head, “but in addition to being a hell of an assassin, I’m also very good with the books.”
“You’re good with books? Like bookkeeping or accounting?”
“Both. We do have multiple bookkeepers for payroll, for example the lady who oversees the payroll for all of our clubs is not the same person who does the payroll for our American car dealerships. I personally manage the payroll for specific and more lucrative assignments. We run our family like a legitimate business but having a conglomerate of businesses allows for us to move money around.”
“Like laundering.”
“Exactly,” he winked at her. “Which mob movie did you watch to learn the term?”
“Funny,” she gave his shoulder a shove. “None. Oddly, it was part of my college program because I was learning to be an office administrator and the term came up.”
“It is my job to be on top of the finances for our family. As an example, I noticed a discrepancy in some reported earnings at a club my cousin was running in Boston. I brought it to Dad’s attention, and he sent me there to deal with it.”
“Where you got the girl to give you a blowjob.” She bit her lip, fighting the staining on her cheeks at the word. Would she ever get used to saying such things in his presence?
“Yes. I am sorry, Zorah. I behaved terribly. She came in while I was pissed off about the books, offered to,” he looked to the ceiling as if he himself was embarrassed by his words, “blow me and in the mood, I was in, I let her. Three minutes in, I was still soft, she was on my last nerve and I had her taken from the room so I could focus on my work.”
“And did you focus on your work?”
He gave a bark, “Not in the least. I got wind my fiancée was on a date with another man and left my work to go to her. Before you say anything, yes, I’m aware of how fucking hypocritical I was being at the time. I was an idiot, Zorah and I am aware of how much I do not deserve you.”
“You’re right, you don’t,” she retorted smugly and then waved at the screen, “so what were you going to show me then?”
“Well, these are the companies we own in America. Each day, each company sends me a detailing of the previous day’s profits. It is my job to review the information and ensure there isn’t anything out of order.” He clicked on a tab, “as an example, this is a nightclub we own in New York. This is the information sent over for last night.”
“Holy cow,” Zorah’s eyes bugged. “One nightclub made over fifty thousand dollars on a Monday night?”
“It’s why I’m looking at it more closely. Usually, this particular club averages seventy-five on a weeknight, double this on a weekend. It’s one of our more popular locations. Seeing an oddity of a twenty-five grand decrease in sales tells me something is up.”
“Did you figure it out?”
“I did. The club manager was entertaining a VIP in a specialty room and there was a situation and so he comped the entire entourage which was nearly thirty grand.”
Zorah’s disbelief caused her to grip the edge of the desk, “he comped thirty thousand dollars? Why? What was the problem?”
“One of the club dancers got one of her friends a job at the club. She did her a favor and begged the club manager to let her try working the VIP room. She personally vouched for her and raved on and on about all the dancing experience the girl possessed and so the manager agreed because he was short staffed. Put her in the room with the VIP. The VIP was a family friend in town looking to let loose. He’s part of a Greek family and he comes to our club once a month.”
“He doesn’t go to let loose. He’s doing business, right?”
“A little of both,” he tapped her nose, “you’re very clever my wife.”
“I know.” She wiggled on his lap. “So, what happened?”
“The new dancer pulled a gun on him and tried to shoot him.”
“What? Why? What did he do to deserve it?” She slapped her hands on her cheeks in horror.
“She accused him of murdering her parents.”
“Did he?”
“Possibly,” he frowned, “probably if I know Cristos. If they tried to fuck him over, he would have not hesitated in ending them.”
“What would warrant killing people?”
“My guess is her parents’ borrowed money and could not pay it back or the other possibility was they were known to him, and they offered to work for the feds, so he took them out. Either way, the daughter made friends with one of our dancers, got herself an in and executed her plan right up until she needed to pull the trigger. She was shaking so hard when she fired the gun it hit a neon sign on the wall ten feet away from him. She was taken into custody by my staff and my club manager comped the room.”
“What will happen to her?” Zorah asked worriedly.
“In addition to the room being comped, my associate asked for the girl to be turned over to his team. We gave her over. I don’t know what will become of her, but you don’t walk into a Lucchesi owned club and shoot at one of our allies and expect to live. I imagine she already made her peace with God before she did what she wanted. She knew if she went for him, it was an automatic death sentence.”
“I feel bad for her,” Zorah whispered. “Her parents were murdered. She only wanted justice.”
“An eye for an eye? Is this what you’re telling me? It was okay for her to go after her parents’ killer?”
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