All Chapters of Trapped By The Mafia Don: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

ScarlettI was thankful there were only a few people in the small café or we would have been tossed out. After taking a sip of wine, I wanted nothing more than to stop thinking about my father. Truth was, I missed him terribly, but there was no turning back the clock, no time machine that would allow everything to change. "What's happening in your life?""Me? Nothing so glorious. The new job is going okay, although there are some real putzes in the place, but I keep them in line.""That's good." I don't know why I still blamed him for my mother's death. He had nothing to do with the car accident. I think I just wanted to blame him for everything given what I'd learned one fateful afternoon. A shiver slithered down the back of my legs."I have this thing for one of my coworkers though," Emily continued.I don't even remember what I was looking for, but finding the damning contract, the glaring information indicating that he'd sold his soul to the devil had stripped away everything. I n

GageA light rapping on the closed door drew my attention and not in a good way. I'd given strict instructions not to be bothered. "Yes?" Watching as the door opened little more than a crack reminded me that I was a business owner with employees who needed occasional direction. "Come in, Molly."She was freckle-faced and perky on normal days, her strawberry blonde hair and dancing hazel eyes always giving me a smile. Today, she seemed pensive, as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Or that she was terrified."What do you need?" I folded my hands across my chest, trying to shove aside my usual anger at the interruption. The kid didn't deserve my wrath."I'm so so-sorry to bother you, Mr. Ralph, I mean, sir. We have, I mean you have a visitor." Molly was wide-eyed, her lower lip quivering.Only one man caused this kind of reaction: my father, the bloodthirsty bastard that he was. "Let me guess.""Mr. Fantago didn't understand that you were busy.""You mean he didn't give a

ScarlettThe plane ride took longer that I'd expected given the ferocious spring storms. The layover in St. Louis had taken several hours. By the time the flight landed at O'Hare, it was almost three in the morning. I'd read as much of the email that my father's attorney had sent, the same one who'd called several times, finally texting in an effort to reach me. There was little to say about my father's death. He'd been at a gala event and simply dropped dead, suspected of having a heart attack.His attorney had felt it was imperative that I come to Chicago with haste, even though he refused to tell me why over the phone or in writing. I was lucky enough to find a cab that would take me as far to my selected hotel. I certainly didn't want to stay in my father's... in my old house. I just couldn't. But I did want to remain close, especially to his office. I'd already instructed the attorney to begin looking for a buyer for the corporation. The way the man had laughed left me ill at eas

ScarlettI opened the file with the contract and the name of the rather determined purchaser seemed familiar, even though I couldn't place the name at first. The contract terms were for shit. That was easy to tell from merely seeing the bottom line price. Ralph Enterprises believed they could buy my father's company for a song.After finding the assets page, the year's end financials and last month's income and expense statement, I knew the business was worth well over ten million dollars minimum and I hadn't even seen the financials of the second site. The concept of selling for one third of that meant there was more to the story.I spent hours looking, studying every scrap of paper, every financial report. There were no glaring red flags as to why my father would ever consider such a horrific deal. I was baffled. Groaning, I put my head into my hands, trying to abate the terrible headache. It was almost five and I was exhausted.The single knock on the door was a reminder that every

GageI strode into the bar just after nine-thirty that night. Still angry. Still on edge. Razzle's was my usual haunt, a corner jazz club that had been around for well over fifty years. Very little had changed, the décor a classic combination of mahogany-stained wood and pictures of celebrities covering the walls. The ebony Steinway baby grand in the corner had always drawn my attention, even as a little boy. I stood in the doorway, enjoying the entertainment. The sultry female singer created dark fantasies, the kind that would linger in my mind for days. Only when she'd finished the song did I walk past, giving her a nod of approval.I knew the current owner, a guy I'd gone to school with. He'd taken an entirely different path, preferring hard work to the easy road, taking over after his father had died. The place had been my father's stomping grounds long before I'd been allowed inside."Hey, Jimmy." No one paid any real attention to who I was. Perhaps they didn't care. Times had ch