Roman: A Zambrano Family Novel (Miami Mafia Series Book 1) Read online

  I always did what the family needed.

  Pops and I had agreed that it would be a clean hit. He wanted Olga to be able to have an open casket when she buried her husband.

  I liked Juan. I even helped him out a couple of times. Blood came first though, and if this asshole was a threat to my brother, he needed to go. That went for anyone threatening my family.

  I made sure that his chest stopped rising, and I slipped out as quietly and uneventfully as I'd come in.

  ~*~

  My phone rang. Shit. Groaning, I felt around blindly for the offending device. I braced myself. Night calls were never good.

  Not looking at the screen, I barked, “What?”

  “I'm downstairs. Abre.”

  “I'll be right there.”

  Grabbing my boxers, I put them on. I slept in the nude. I didn't want pop to see what he hadn't seen since I was in diapers. I sleepily jogged down the stairs of my penthouse.

  It was just too late, or to fucking early, for visits.

  I opened the door and there he stood. I moved to the side and he came in.

  “What did you tell mom?”

  “She thinks I'm running.”

  I noticed what he was wearing then- a black jogging suit. My father was really fit at 65.

  “3:00 AM?”

  He shrugged. “There have been mornings that I've gone out this early.”

  “You better have had ojos on you, Pop.”

  He waved off my concern and sat down on my leather couch.

  “Is it done?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded solemnly. “Gracias, hijo. Marco will be grateful, too.”

  “Is this all you came to ask me about? You came all the way here to ask if I did it?”

  “It's not like we can talk on phones, Romano.”

  “Papá, I have an early day tomorrow. Well, I suppose it's today already.”

  He grimaced. “I forgot. How early should we be there?”

  “You don't have to go, but it's at 8:00 AM. I don't want to piss this judge off, either. I've never been late to court, and I'm not starting with this case. I can't afford it. The shit's stacked against me.”

  “I hope you have sleeves to cover your sleeves.”

  I rolled my eyes. He wasn't a fan of my tats but I didn't give a shit. I grew up too damn fast because of the sacrifices I made for this family, and I had every damn right to do whatever the fuck I wanted.

  “Yea. I got it covered.”

  “You push your luck. You spend too much time before judges, Romano.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. We'd had this argument too many times, and it was just too damn early for this shit.

  “Pop, I don't hear you complain when it benefits you. Just last week you praised the hard work that got me where I am. Remember it? My blood. My sweat. My tears. My soul. All the dealing for the family. You told me that I've worked hard. This is part of the shit that goes with it.”

  He sighed. “You can't lose, hijo. Too much is riding on this.”

  “We gotta prepare for the worst, Papá. It doesn't look good.”

  Pop's eyes widened. “I've never heard you speak like that. You're normally confident about the outcomes.”

  I shook my head. “Sometimes your luck runs out. This may be one of those times.”

  “The attempted bribe failed. We managed to keep the bribe contained by threatening the judge, but no matter what we offered, he declined to negotiate. Some can't be bought. We're depending on you, Romano-”

  “You don't think I fucking know that? Do you understand the fucking pressure I'm under? And then I had to take a hit tonight?”

  “You're saving your brothers, Romano.”

  I looked at my father.

  “¿Y quién carajo me va a salvar a mí?”

  My father stayed quiet.

  Exactly.

  Who the hell was going to save me?

  Chapter 2

  Roman

  “The United States v. Zambrano, Southern District of Florida. All rise. The Honorable Judge Julio Moreno-Rojas presiding.”

  The judge nodded. “You may be seated.”

  He looked at the prosecution and then to my table. This wasn't my first rodeo but this judge was a fucking ball-breaker. I never got nervous. Nervousness was for people who didn't prepare. Even on a bad day, I could think on my feet just as quickly as I jumped rope.

  “State your appearances.”

  “Miranda Sparks, US Attorney, Your Honor.”

  I gripped the armrests of my chair and stood.

  “Roman Zambrano for the defense, Judge.”

  “Very good. Seeing as how the court addressed evidence-related issues in pre-trial, we're ready for voir-dire. Are we ready to proceed?”

  We both answered in the affirmative.

  I felt the familiar rush go through me. This case was the most important one I had ever undertaken. I turned to my client. His orange jumpsuit and handcuffs were replaced by a modest suit and twenty-dollar watch.

  One cardinal rule of trial- you didn't wear anything flashy. Period.

  I turned to him and covered his hand with mine. This client meant more to me than any other I had ever defended.

  He was my brother.

  “Ready, D?”

  Diego nodded his head gravely. He'd been through a lot in the last three years. Sure, he'd acted out, lived dangerously, and had no regard for rules anymore. Who would, after your twin sister was kidnapped, raped, and murdered? He was angry- we all were. Diego had had a special relationship with Daniela that none of us would ever understand.

  And he blamed himself for her fate.

  Sure, my brother had made mistakes, and Diego was a lot of things.

  He didn't kill this FBI agent, though.

  We don't touch the Feds unless there was absolutely no other recourse. Notice what I didn't say. His hands weren't as red as mine, but they were blemished.

  As I looked at him, I was hell-bent not to let karma have its way. He would not be found guilty of murdering someone he did not kill to pay debts back for the ones he had.

  I squeezed his hand. It was going to be a rough and long trial, but there were holes in the prosecution's case big enough to fly a plane through, and I was going to expose them all. They wanted someone to pay for the death of a federal agent, but it sure as fuck wasn't going to be my baby brother.

  Ms. Sparks was uptight, and a typical pretentious sanctimonious prosecutor. Her table was obnoxiously organized, with pens in line like they were readying to march in a parade. My eyes locked with hers, and she offered me a tight smile. I gave her the cockiest grin I could muster, and her smile faltered.

  Psych the opponent out.

  Fake it until you make it.

  We waited for the pool of citizens, who potentially held my brother's life in their hands, to enter. Picking a jury made or broke your case. I was determined to pick the very best for Diego.

  ~*~

  In the weeks that followed, I did little else except breath, eat, sleep, and go to trial. Sparks was a good attorney but she could only work with what she had in front of her. The investigators had done a shitty job but then again, Diego was innocent. It wasn't always the case, but there shouldn’t be a hell of a lot of evidence against an innocent guy. I ignored everything and everyone except exercising during this time. Diego was my priority. The shit kept piling up.

  When the case was handed to the jury for a verdict, I had nervous energy. Yea, you heard right. I was nervous. I know what I said earlier, but I had prepared, presented, and defended. Now, my brother's life was in the hands of strangers and there was little else I could do at this point to help him. Make no mistake, there was no way my baby brother would be getting any kind of death penalty. We'd boost him from prison and send him far away. This was the first option, though, so that he didn't have to spend the remainder of his life looking over his shoulder.

  I was at my office late one night. Piles of shit, mail, and paperwork reach
ed up to my fucking eyeballs as I sat behind my desk. It was midnight but I hadn't been able to sleep, so I came to catch up on some work. My father and our family’s corporation was my employer, although I had some other work here or there. I took care of the familia, and that included everyone in the hierarchy. I was worth the outrageous salary my father paid me. It wasn't gratuitous either. I worked hard for that shit. It was the going market rate for my experience and talents.

  I was reading over an arrest affidavit of one of our enforcers, who obviously needed a bit more training in “how not to get arrested 101”, but set it aside. I didn't want to deal with another fucking criminal case until Diego's verdict was back. I moved on to the land deal my father had been negotiating for a year now. The businesses folded under the weight of the green offered to them. One business, however, refused all offers. The last offer my father presented made my eyes pop out. Obviously, the business owner was an idiot. It was pissing my father off, too, and that's one thing you didn't want. Don't piss a Zambrano off. You didn't live long after that.

  I was looking over a real estate contract when my door burst open. I opened my drawer and had my hand on my gun in one fluid motion while I rose to stand.

  “I said let me go!”

  I saw as Edgar tried to stop a petite blond woman from coming towards me. Her eyes were shooting the same bullets that would've come out of my gun had there been a threat.

  “Perdoname, Romano. Esta gringa loca se metió-”

  “Excuse me, but this gringa understands everything you just said. I told you I wasn't leaving until I spoke to Señor Zambrano,” she said in perfect Spanish like a Cuban, as if she'd been raised speaking it. My eyebrows rose, as did Edgar's. I was rarely surprised and she managed to do it twice in less than a minute.

  “Déjanos.”

  “Como quieres.”

  Edgar left us.

  My eyes rested on the spitfire before me. I took a moment to study her. She had blond hair that was tied back haphazardly in a bun, with long bangs falling across her face. I couldn't quite see her eyes behind her glasses but they seemed to be hazel. She must have been just over five feet tall. Then I noticed her doctor's coat. My eyebrows rose.

  That makes it three times in- I looked at my watch- two minutes.

  “Can I get you something to drink, Dr…”

  I looked at her expectantly. She pursed her plump lips and stared back at me unimpressed.

  “Laurenti. And no.”

  Her voice caused my dick to twitch. It was soft, sultry, and angry.

  “Your first name?”

  Her eyebrow quirked upwards. “Doctor.”

  Well fuck. Alright then. My eyes narrowed in the embroidery on the coat.

  Izabella.

  I put my gun back in the drawer, and it drew her eyes to my hand. The gun was put away before she could see what it was that I'd held. I made myself comfortable behind my desk, looked at my watch, and looked at her.

  “It's after midnight Dr. Laurenti. What does a woman need at this time of night that she forces her way through to a private office?” I paused as a thought occurred to me.

  “How did you get up here?”

  Her smile was frosty. “I have my ways.”

  I inclined my head. “Very well.” I touched a button on my phone. Edgar came on speaker.

  “Yea boss?”

  “I want you to send someone to relieve Scott. Tell him he needs to come up here immediately.”

  The line was silent for a minute.

  “Everything ok, boss? Need me to kick her out?”

  The doctor gasped at Edgar's rudeness. I smiled.

  “Naw. Don't tell him anything, but I'm asking him for his badge.”

  The line was silent again. I saw the doctor open her mouth in shock.

  “We'll be right up.”

  Edgar was a smidge too agreeable for her liking. I could see she was offended on behalf of Scott. I wanted to grin.

  She stood there silently. The hostility came off her in waves.

  “I need to talk to you about an important matter.”

  Her tone was just as frosty as her eyes.

  My eyes glided from the door to her face. “It can wait. There's something more important to deal with right now.”

  I saw her clench her jaw. “That's doubtful.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Come in,” I said when I heard a knock.

  Edgar opened the door and let Scott in. Scott had been a part of the Zambrano Industries' security team since I was a child. He was approaching fifty now. His dark hair was streaked with white. His mustache was nicely trimmed and neat, just as the dress code demanded. His black uniform was perfectly pressed and starched. He was immaculate like he always was. He stood tall at just over six feet. His stance was militarily flawless. I guess the habits he’d learned as a marine never left him despite the two and a half decades with our company.

  “Mr. Zambrano, Sir. Good evening.”

  I made a show of looking at my Rolex. “It's more like night.” My eyes narrowed on the doctor. She shifted on her feet.

  “So Scott,” I said jovially as I extended my hand and he walked over to shake it. “How's the wife and brood?”

  He laughed. “Doing well, doing well, Mr. Zambrano, thank you for asking.”

  I nodded, sitting down again.

  “That's good to hear. How's Jaime? Her four older brothers giving her hell?”

  He laughed. “You know it. After four boys, she's the princess. She's entering high school soon. I'm still putting the boys through college.”

  I nodded my head again, although I already knew the answers to my questions. I just wanted the little doctor to stew. She was slowly turning red.

  “Sarah's good? Last I saw her she was at the company dinner two months ago where you got the twenty-five year service award.”

  The doctor grimaced.

  “Yes. It was a great dinner, Mr. Zambrano. We all loved it. We enjoy it every year. It's great that all of our families can get together.”

  I thought I heard her groan. When I looked at her, she had closed her eyes.

  “Is she still volunteering?”

  “She is. Has a heart of gold. She says since the kids aren't little anymore and she's a stay-home-mom, she can spend part of the time at home and volunteer part-time, too.”

  I genuinely smiled.

  “That's really good to hear. Sounds like she's a hard worker.”

  Scott chuckled. “And she lets me know it, too. Thankfully, we've been privileged so that she could stay home. I owe that to you, your pop, and this company.”

  I didn't offer a reply.

  Dr. Laurenti was wringing her hands. She had turned red, but I was noticing her paling.

  He waited to be asked the question I already knew he wanted to answer.

  I looked pointedly at the doctor. “Why is she here?”

  Dr. Laurenti was shifting again on her worn tennis shoes. I frowned when I saw their condition.

  “I can explain this. I don't want-”

  I held my hand up to stop her from talking but I did it more because I knew it would antagonize her. She was easy to read and annoy.

  “I'll let Scott speak for himself.”

  He nodded.

  “Sir, she came into the lobby, frantic. She claimed that she was your girlfriend and that she had an emergency. She couldn't wait another minute to speak to you and you hadn't been answering your phone.”

  “Wait-”

  I held up my hand to stop her. I thought I saw smoke come out of her ears.

  “I told her to hold on, that she wasn't authorized to go any further until I called up here. I grabbed the phone and before I could dial Edgar, she booked it for the elevator. I tried to stop it and when I couldn't, I ran to the desk to call Edgar. It rang but there was no answer.”

  Edgar began coughing and there was a slight blush on his cheeks.

  “Sorry, boss. I was on a personal call and couldn't switch over. Nothing e
ver happens here so late and I figured I could call Scott back in a minute.”

  By this time, I was getting peeved. The fun I'd been having was morphing into serious disappointment and annoyance.

  What if this had been a real threat?

  The doctor had her arms crossed now. She couldn't make eye contact with anyone.

  “So I kept trying to call. Then Edgar called me to come up.”

  “This isn't his fault. I lied. I'm the one who fooled him. I-”

  I put my hand up again. I really wanted to goad her. She was so damn cute.

  “This is a real problem, especially with corporate spies looking for any advantage. Not to mention other possible threats.” I looked pointedly at them and they understood what I really meant.

  The doctor groaned and rolled her eyes.

  “You can stop with the subtleties. I'm not a mafia hitman. I carry for personal protection,” she said and opened her doctor's coat. My eyes opened wide at the holster she wore over her scrubs. I saw the handle of her gun.

  I looked at my watch. Four times. Ten minutes.

  I cleared my throat. “Dr. Laurenti, I'll give you a pass now, but for future reference, firearms and weapons are not allowed in my building.”

  She actually snorted at me. “Really? Because they're both wearing a piece,” she said jutting her chin out to Scott and Edgar. “And you,” she said, narrowing those discerning eyes at me, “don't fool me one bit. You have one in that drawer.”

  I wanted to laugh. She was good. It was rare that I found a beauty with brains who went toe-to-toe with me. I refused to crack the smile that wanted to form on my face, though.

  “We aren't talking about me or them. This is my building and that's my security. You are a visitor. Well, you're actually a trespasser-”

  “I am no such thing. This is a place of business where the public is allowed.”

  “You are correct, Dr. Laurenti.” Her smile was smug before I continued. “However, there are business hours, and see, it's well beyond those business hours. You are not welcome here at this hour. This is in fact trespassing, and I could call the police to forcibly take you out of here and potentially face criminal charges.”