I fled into the arms of a mob boss for protection… and ended up pregnant by my father’s sworn enemy.
I went to the club alone to dance away my stress when the ultimate stress reliever walked in.
At 6’4”, he’s rich, powerful, handsome…and old enough to be my dad.
His commanding presence and intense eyes drew me to him like a magnet.
Our mutual attraction led to one lust-filled night of heart-pounding, body-pumping passion.
The next day I was falsely accused of stealing from a violent drug cartel which put my life expectancy at zero.
Desperate, I’m forced to seek protection from a stranger.
Surprise! He’s my one-night stand, mob boss Marco Tomacelli.
He became my savior as well as my new boss. I swore to keep things professional, but he claimed me body and soul.
Dangerous enemies are coming for us both so his plan to leave the crime world behind is in jeopardy.
He has my heart and he has no clue he’s knocked up the daughter of his ex-best friend and sworn enemy.
AmazonExcerpt from Silver Fox Billionaire Mob Boss © Copyright 2024 Aria McDow
1
MARCO
The French Quarter of New Orleans, Louisiana, has an old and established reputation as the place to let loose. But anybody who is anybody knows that the French Quarter is strictly for tourists. If you’re from New Orleans, you know the Uptown District rivals even Las Vegas.
Say what you want about Vegas, but if you are looking for Party Central, the Uptown District is the place to be.
Club 7114 is like any of the dozens of swanky nightclubs scattered across the Uptown District. Head-pounding, insistent techno beats pulsing out onto oak-lined streets, and the inside smelling like champagne, expensive cologne… and sex.
This is not my scene. It hasn’t been for a long time. Hitting the clubs is more of a young man’s game. In my line of work, however, you must go where your customers are.
The Marcellos, one of the last remaining families of the old guard, La Cosa Nostra, the Sicilian Mafia, once had a stranglehold on this city. Gambling, drugs, prostitution, strong-arming local businesses — we had it all covered once — but that’s an ever-shrinking part of our business.
But old habits die hard.
The old phrase, ‘crime doesn’t pay,’ has never been more accurate, especially when it comes to the problems that come with modern, high-tech policing and the incursion of the hyper-violent Mexican cartels.
The fact is, it used to be more profitable.
That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m going legit; it’s just that I target different markets with higher margins now.
Still, I keep up with what needs minding, and what needs minding right now is Club 7114.
I nod as I walk past the long line of hopefuls wanting to get in, right up to the door. As the underboss for the Marcellos New Orleans branch, I do not need to stand in line behind a velvet rope.
Simon, the bouncer, knows me by sight. He nods his head and greets me respectfully. “Good evening, Mr. Tomacelli.”
“Evening, Simon,” I say, stopping to ask, “How’s little Joel doing?”
Joel is Simon’s eight-year-old son who apparently fell off his skateboard and broke his leg in two places three weeks ago.
“He’s a tough kid. He’ll be fine,” Simon answers without missing a beat, even though he knows he never told me what had happened to his kid.
No matter. I make it my business to know who, what, where, and how about my associates and their employees, as cultivating various relationships pays dividends.
“Good.” I nod slightly and proceed to enter the club, the cacophony of music assaulting my senses. It’s times like this I long for the old days when I used to consider this entertaining.
