The Holy Ghost - M.E. Clayton Page 0,5
of the restaurant, I realized it was true what they said; say the Devil’s name, and he shall appear. But, in this case, it was Edmond who appeared, not the Devil.
He was sitting in my section, and he was all smiles when I approached. “Hey, Frankie,” he greeted me. “How are you?”
I put on my service smile and made sure not to hint at anything more. “Hi, Edmond. I’m doing well. How are you?”
It wasn’t that he wasn’t good-looking; on the contrary, he was. He had sandy blonde hair and sweet, light blue eyes. He had that surfer vibe even though there wasn’t an ocean or lake anywhere near Cedar Creek. There wasn’t even a creek. He was also tall and athletically built. He wasn’t a gym rat with too many muscles, but he also wasn’t a slob with a pouch over his dick.
Overall, he was a nice-looking man. He just didn’t do it for me.
No one did.
“I’m great,” he answered. “I’ll be doing better if ever you take me up on my offer of dinner or drinks.”
I kept my smile in place. “What can I get you, Edmond?”
“Okay, okay,” he teased. “I can take a hint.”
Since he’s been hitting on me for weeks, my money says he can’t.
Chapter 3
Phoenix~
It didn’t matter how many times I’ve been in this house, this study particularly, it always felt like I was sitting down with the sorry souls who were unfortunate enough to cross paths with Giovanni Benetti. Or any Benetti, for that matter.
It was also how I knew when Luca was talking to us as a Mob Underboss and not the boy who we played tag with as children. Whenever we were invited to meet him at the Benetti home, which was still occupied by his mother and father, we knew we were here for business.
Luca owned an apartment building on the outskirts of Morgan City. He occupied the entire top floor while me and Ciro shared the floor underneath, our apartments separated by a shallow hallway. No one had access to our floor or Luca’s save us three. The remaining six floors were empty of residents except for the first floor which consisted of the lobby and the smaller apartments that housed a few guards. The second floor housed a gym, swimming pool, sauna, etc. Any member of the Benetti family was required to be healthy and in shape, so Luca made access to a gym easier for his men. No one in the Benetti family got soft, not even the retirees.
No one.
The third floor was a common area, where a lot of our impromptu meetings were held. The fourth and fifth floors were empty and completely gutted of anything besides structure beams. The sixth floor was our arsenal floor. Only a few people had access to the floor, and one of them was Vincent Costas, our weapons expert and manager. His sole purpose in life was to issue our weapons and firearms and make sure they could never be traced back to any of us. We had more firepower on that one floor than most gun stores. Needless to say, the security in Luca’s building rivaled that of The Pentagon.
Whenever Luca wanted to spend time with me and Ciro as friends, we were called up to his penthouse, or he’d stop by one of our apartments. Being called to the Benetti home meant he wanted to talk business. It was no secret that Giovanni Benetti didn’t care for the fact that mine and Ciro’s alliances were with Luca and not him, so he didn’t appreciate our presence or called on us often. He tolerated us because we were good at what we did, and he didn’t want to cause a rift between him and his son. No one voiced it out loud, but we all knew Luca was ten times more powerful than his father these days.
When I had driven through the gates and circled the arched driveway until I was parked in front of the house, well, mansion really, no one had stopped me, and no one had greeted me. When I had gotten out of the car and walked up the steps to the house, even though there had been a dozen pairs of eyes on me from the moment I had turned the corner on Park Street, no one had stopped me because they knew.
They knew who I was.
And they knew I belonged here.
I sat on the deep brown leather couch, my elbows braced on my knees,