Chapter One Hundred and Eleven
Chapter One Hundred and Eleven
Frankie’s phone buzzed again. He’d been ignoring it for approximately ten minutes, preferring the feel of his little vixen’s light, warm body lying atop him. As it buzzed more, he sighed, reached out as far as he could until he brushed the phone with his fingertips. He bit his tongue until he finally got it fully in his hand. Accardi. Should have known.
“Yo.”
“We have things to discuss, Donati. Your mom says you haven’t been down since I carried your lifeless ass up those stairs and she hasn’t seen Gloria since yesterday.”
“You’re more than welcome to come up and join us in bed, though I’m sure Gen may object.”
“You’ve been trying to convince me to join you in bed for years. For the last time, you’re not my type,” Matteo said, the humorous retort uncharacteristic.
“You have good news,” Frankie surmised.
“Call Valencia and when you get your ass up, come and see me at my place,” Accardi said. With a very on-character maneuver, he hung up abruptly before Frankie could respond.
Frankie sighed, not one to get his hopes up easily. He called his old friend, Johnny Valencia.
“The rumor mills are churning up quite a storm around here, Donati,” Johnny answered.
“Do people not reply with greetings when answering the phone anymore? Was I knocked out for that long?” Frankie asked.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Hello, this is Johnny Valencia, owner of the Blue Lounge and a monster dick, how may I direct your call?”
“Monster dick? Really? You know I’ve seen your dick, right?”
“Hey. That was two decades ago and it was cold that day.”
“You don’t even know when…”
“I’m sure that it was cold,” Johnny interrupted.
“Alright, I’m coming off a major drug high so why don’t we cut the shit and you tell me what it is you and Accardi were talking about so I can pass back out, hm?” Frankie asked.
“Drug high? Accardi said you were blown to bits.”
“Blown to bits?”
“Yeah, you’d been shot like seventeen times or something.”
Frankie sighed. “It was six…” Frankie thought about it. “I think. Dude, my girl dosed me with meds I didn’t even know I had with more syllables that I’m certain don’t actually exist, so please, for the love of God, what’s going on?”
“You don’t want to gab? Yeesh, you must have more than seventeen lodged in there. Fine, fine, he wanted to talk about Sergei.”
“What about him?”
“Apparently his associate, Asher Thompson, has been seen around town, going into clubs of the risque sort. He wanted to know if I’d heard or seen anything,” Johnny explained.
A few beats of silence passed which Frankie passed by running his fingers through Gloria’s hair.
“Wow. No ‘hurry up’ or ‘get the fuck to it’?” Johnny asked.
“Fuck man, I honestly forgot I was holding a phone to my ear,” Frankie said.
“Tell Gloria to text me the exact combination and dosage she gave you, ‘kay?” Johnny said, his tone serious. “I was really expecting this call to be more fun. Some back and forth and such. Whatever.” Johnny sighed, defeated. “I haven’t seen Sergei. From what I’m hearing, he’s somewhere underground. As for his boy, Asher, however, I’ve been hearing he’s high-rolling at every club in town. Hopping from place to place, making lots of noise, throwing out wads of cash. The guy couldn’t be more obvious if he had a flashing neon sign above his head.”
“He wants to be seen,” Frankie surmised. “He knows he’s being followed.”
“Yup. But I got a buddy, name is Jimmy Jones and…”
“Jimmy Jones? Really? Not a very creative fake name.”
“Well, it’s an obvious alias, Frank, that’s kind of his schtick.”
“Schtick?”
“He owns this place, you see, very private, very underground, very edgy.”
“Johnny, you own the Blue Lounge and you’re calling this place edgy?”
“The clientele is highly controlled. Only the elitist of scumbags are allowed in and even then they have to go through a rigorous screening process. Membership is in the millions. It’s exclusive. I’m talking masks, fake names, private rooms, top of the line security every two feet and…” Johnny paused for effect. “The only way in? Underground tunnels through the old buried city.”
This piqued Frankie’s interest. “Tell me something good, Johnny.”
“I’ve called in a lot of favors for you, Donati,” Johnny said. Frankie could hear him sitting back in his seat, ready to lay down his demands.
“What do you want?”
“Is it true? Gloria killed Ivan Rubanov? Took over his family?”
Frankie glanced down at his subdued vixen. The memory of that split-second glimpse of her standing in his family’s backyard with a gun pressed to her temple flashed in his mind’s eye. “She’s killed her father,” he agreed.
“Hm, interesting, interesting, so she is now in charge of half of Chicago? I take it once you get your hands on Sergei, she’ll run another quarter?”
“What do you want, Johnny?” Frankie gritted out between clenched teeth.
“I want in.”
“Want in on what?”
“Come on, man. We came here together. You know where my ambitions lie.”
“What ever happened to being happy with just the club?” Frankie asked.
“What can I say? You pulled me back in. I was content, then I got a taste of action again and it whetted my appetite. Oh, and a spot somewhere in the ranks for Charlotte. She took a beating for you. I think it’s the least you can do to pay her back.” Frankie could practically hear the smile in his voice. “So, what do you say?”
“I’ll have to confirm it with the boss but, fine, when Gloria picks up the mantle, you can have a portion of the take,” Frankie assured him.
“Wonderful, I called Jimmy this morning, cashed in a favor and got confirmation of his highest rollers.”
“Thompson?”
“Not just Thompson but the man who vouched for him and paid his membership dues: Sergei Vasiliev.”
“When was he last seen there?” Frankie asked.
“Last week,” Johnny said, proud of himself.
Frankie smiled. Gloria would be ecstatic. Already his mind was churning with plans, ready to enact them. Ready to get this fucking over with. “Alright, I have one last favor to…”
“I already turned in my recommendations for one Frankie Donati and Gloria Rubanov,” Johnny told him.
“I’m impressed,” Frankie said.
“What can I say? I’m a stellar employee. Do the Rubanov’s have an employee of the month?”
“You’re funny,” Frankie said, shaking his head as Gloria started to stir. Her fingers opened and contracted.
“It’ll be good to see you more often, bud,” Johnny said.
“Don’t start crying. That’ll just embarrass us both.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“Gladly. Talk to you soon,” Frankie said, hanging up the phone as Gloria’s eyes opened and her chin tilted up to look at him.
She shut one eye and stretched her body along his. “How are you awake right now? I only took a quarter of what you did.”
“If we are going to be husband and wife, we’re going to need to work on your tolerance, Vixen.”
Gloria smiled shyly and a light dusting of pink coated her cheeks as it always did when he called her his wife. He knew they weren’t technically married, something she reminded him of every time he said it, but Gloria Rubanov was not a woman who blushed easily and he would continue to call her his wife until it became so common that the heat no longer surfaced.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“10 o’clock.”
“10 o’clock? How could it be 10 o’clock when we got into bed at 10 o’clock?”
“What can I say? You mix a good knockout nightcap.”
“Not a very good first day as a leader, I suppose,” Gloria said, though it didn’t sound like she couldn’t care less.
“Or a very good day. Make the nervous ones sweat and the loyal ones grateful for the day of rest.”
“If you say so,” she said on a sigh. “Who were you talking to?” Gloria asked, wrapping her arms around his torso and tucking her hands under his back.
“Johnny.”
“Mmm, did Accardi call him like I told him to?” Gloria asked, nuzzling her face into his pec.
“You told Accardi to call?”
“Mhmm, thought if anyone knew what clubs Asher might be visiting, it would be him,” she said before her mouth split open in a big yawn.
“Well, it was a good hunch, Vixen, cause he did. I had to promise him a role in the organization to get the info,” Frankie told her.
“I’m sure we can find use for him somewhere,” Gloria said. “So you got the name?”
“Well, I guess technically not but he got us some membership passes to get in.”
“Even better,” she said, her body going slack again. “Five more minutes and we can go.”
“Go?”
“To Chicago,” she told him.
“Just like that?” he asked on a laugh.
“You’re right,” she said with another yawn. “Ten minutes. Then we can talk strategy, call Accardi, touch base with the new guys, then Chicago.”
“Whatever you say, Boss,” Frankie said, settling back into his pillow and holding her close. Fifteen minutes and he’d try to wake her again.