Bound by the Past Read online Cora Reilly (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #7)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Series by Cora Reilly
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
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“Giovanni, this is where your contacts come into play, and you, too, Val will be vital for my plan.”

“My contacts?” Papa asked.

“Yes, you know how to present yourself in certain circles. That’s the kind of man I need at my side.”

Papa narrowed his eyes in thought. “What kind of circles?”

But I had already caught up. Since I didn’t manage the casino anymore, my main job had been to chat up the politicians and their wives. The men were good customers in our brothels and casinos, and many of them enjoyed a discount on cocaine or heroin. Their wives loved the parties we threw, the thrill of the forbidden, and most importantly our almost limitless funds.

“You’re playing golf with senators and the mayor. You have always managed to keep the underworld rumors about your family to a minimum. You are the man who will help me lead the Outfit to a new cooperation.”

Realization descended over Papa’s face. “You want to get a foot into the political scene.”

“Yes, I think we need to make us even more indispensable for the political elite in our city and state. You are friends with a few senators.”

“They will be wary about being associated with organized crime. It’s nothing that gets them any extra points in elections.”

“Unlike the Camorra and the Famiglia, we have been careful. While there are speculations making the rounds, we can’t be linked to any scandals. Elections are coming up. I’m sure you know of a few ambitious senators striving to become more. Let’s help them reach for the stars if they help us too.”

“If we have more friends in the political elite, it might protect us from attack,” I said.

“And it could be good for business too, lucrative contracts, legalization of certain forms of gambling,” Papa mused.

Dante nodded. “Indeed. I want to make the Outfit ready for the future, and I think our way needs to be to blend in even better, to appear as sheep and hide the wolf within.”

“I’m going to start testing the waters. I’m playing golf with Clark senior tomorrow. Maybe he can have a word with his son.”

“His wife is from Italian descent?”

Papa nodded. “They vacation in Italy every year. They have a mansion at the shores of Lake Como.”

“It’ll take some convincing. Many of my more old-fashioned men won’t like this new direction I’m taking,” Dante said.

I smiled, feeling a new sense of hope. “You’ll convince them.”

I’d never seen the appeal of playing golf. If I wanted to hit a target, I shot my gun, if I wanted to exert myself, I chose a sport that actually got my heart rate up, and if I wanted to engage in business negotiations, I preferred to sit down and talk without any distractions.

Yet, I found myself on a golf course in early Spring with Maximo Clark, Giovanni and the old Clark Senior. We engaged in meaningless chitchat for a while, as was habit in those circles, even if I wanted to cut to the chase. I had more important things to do.

The Clark family have been important players in the political game for decades. They were political royalty. Clark Senior, who had been Senator before his son, had a penchant for our underground casinos and the complimentary girls. His son, the current Senator, was a harder nut to crack. Even if his first name was Italian, thanks to his mother, he was wary of intensifying contacts with the Outfit.

“You want to become Governor?”

Maximo Clark leaned on his golf club, a hint of suspicion on his face. He was a born politician, a turncoat and opportunist. I didn’t trust him and he didn’t trust me. “I do, indeed.”

“Your chances are good,” Clark senior said. “We only need the right campaign to give you a push.”

“Good campaigns are expensive,” Maximo said.

“They are indeed,” Giovanni agreed.

I hated beating about the bush, all these veiled hints. Stifling my annoyance, I gave a tight smile. “Money isn’t an issue.”

Maximo smiled, all sharp teeth and condescension. “It can become an issue if it derives from the wrong sources.”

“It’s a matter of interpretation what’s determined a wrong source,” I said. “We have close connections to the gun lobby. They are one of your main sponsors if I’m not mistaken, and some people might argue that their money is blood money too.” I flashed my teeth at him, done playing nice.

His smile became tenser. “I assume you’re hoping for favorable legislation, for influence and the occasional amnesty?”

“That, and involvement. We want to become part of the public eye, of your social circles. We need the light.”

“Some things are better left in the dark,” Maximo said.

“Indeed.” I narrowed my eyes. Maybe he didn’t visit our establishments, but his father and brother did. It would be bad press for him if word got out. No matter how white his vest, his family’s dirt would stick to it.



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