CHAPTER 2


Vinny held onto a nearby table to keep from fainting. “Why do you want me here, Roc?” He kept the quiver out of his voice, afraid Rocco would make him take Phil’s place in the chair.

“I figured if we could’ve made Philly talk, you could help explain how in the hell he pulled off stealing money from under my nose without either me or you suspecting anything. It was just dumb luck I found out I was short a few mil. I had a major deal comin’ up. Some Vegas guys offered me a great chance to buy in on a new hotel and casino they’re gonna build in Mexico. Business has been slow on the Strip, so they wanted to try somthin’ different and diversify, ya know, internationally. But things got stalled ’cause they needed extra financing to make the deal happen, and they came to me. It was a great opportunity. I usually ask your advice before I make a big move, especially since you’re an expert doin’ real estate transactions. But I figured I had enough cash to cover it. Backing out of the deal in front of my friends was very embarrassing. To make it worse, now they’re all pissed at me ’cause they’re short, and the whole thing might collapse.”

Vinny wiped the sweat break from his brow, hoping Rocco did not notice. He knew the mob had created a new front company, International Hospitality Corporation, to finance hotel opportunities outside of the United States. He and Phil were already working through an intermediary to invest in IHC’s Mexican project, using the money they had stolen from Rocco. As part of his financial bag of tricks, Vinny was adept at scoping out real estate to hide and launder the illegal millions passing through the mob’s dirty hands. He wondered if Rocco suspected and was just toying with him, like a cat playing with a mouse before killing it.

Rocco checked his Diamond Roman Dial Rolex. “Well, it’s late now. You and I can go over the books tomorrow and figure it out. Before you go home, take a ride with Joey and help him get rid of this piece of garbage.”

When Vinny heard Rocco say, “take a ride with Joey,” his breath caught in his throat. His skin tingled and goose bumps rose on his arms. He knew how those rides ended. Vinny was ambitious but usually avoided the dirty part of the mob’s business. He was a “made man,” having “made his bones” several years ago by murdering a witness Rocco needed to make “disappear” before a trial. Rocco had forced Vinny to do the hit so he knew he could trust him to manage the millions he brought in every year. Sensing Vinny was uncomfortable with the bloody assignment, Rocco made it easy. He arranged for Vinny to sit behind his victim, who was unknowingly going for a one-way ride. A simple bullet to the back of the head from Vinny’s pistol took care of the job, no muss, no fuss.

A wave of relief washed over Vinny when he remembered one-way rides usually entailed the driver, the victim, and the shooter. He composed himself, knowing the only people going on this ride were Joey the driver, the already dead Phil, and himself. “Sure, Roc. We’ll take care of it.” He watched Joey untie Phil. His body fell onto the tarp with a soggy thump.

“Let’s wrap up the package,” Joey said. They rolled Phil into the bloody tarp like a rug and carried his body up the stairs. Joey welcomed the help of a second pair of muscular arms. Vinny wondered where the night would lead.