Deception (Infidelity #3)

I renewed alliances. My friends had friends who had family. We knew who deserved their cut and who didn’t but got it anyway. It wasn’t the same as my education at NYU; however, it was just as valuable.

The economy improved. Energy was no longer in short supply and business was once again booming. And then the FBI began its stings. Feds began questioning and taping and building cases that didn’t need to be built.

The well-oiled machines that had controlled the docks, the construction industry—from the materials to the workers—and the city since the early 1900’s began to falter. The commission was still strong, but not what it had been. Just last December, Castellano—Big Paulie—was murdered on the streets of Manhattan, and the rumblings stirred something inside me—a drive.

My father didn’t have the same option. Not only because he didn’t have a degree, but because his timing was wrong, and his dedication was to my mother and me. That’s not to say I didn’t care about my family. I’ve always adored Angelina. She’s been the love of my life since I heard her laugh in sophomore English.

I still remember her sitting with three other girls looking at a magazine. If I closed my eyes, I could see her—brown hair, big blue eyes, dressed in jeans and a Metallica t-shirt. She was about as far from the type of girl I usually noticed as possible.

My preference had always been women like Nikki, those who dolled themselves up, knew their assets, and didn’t mind flaunting them. That wasn’t Angelina. It was as if she didn’t realize how fucking beautiful she was or the way her laughter brought sunlight to the classroom, even to a tired schmuck who’d worked all night, gone home to shower, and dragged himself to class.

It took me time, years, to finally make my move. I had a name to build. A beautiful intelligent woman like Angelina Costello deserved better than the son of a dockworker. Besides, her family had connections. Her family was connections. I knew the name and valued my life. It wasn’t until the name Oren Demetri had clout that I could pursue a woman like her.

As Daryl Frazier opened the canister of blueprints and laid the large sheets of paper over my desk, I smirked at how far I’d come. No longer was I the one searching out investors. People were coming to me. I’d taken those lessons and in this new climate, turned them into a reputable business. Demetri Enterprises. It sounded official.

The families taught me something that NYU only confirmed. Never put all your eggs in one basket. That’s what my father and all the men like him had done. They’d worked hard, given everything they had, for one thing—a paycheck. People who received paychecks never got rich. It was the ones who wrote the checks who made the real money.

“And you can see how this subdivision will fill a need not met in the city. These lots are half an acre each. The clearance requires twelve feet on each side of every structure. As you can imagine, people who’ve lived in the city will pay big money for that much space. It’ll be like a mile to them.”

“Do you have the prospective on utilities?”

“Yes,” he said, as he dug in his briefcase for another folder.





OUR BROWNSTONE IN Windsor Terrace wasn’t as grand as I wanted, but Angelina never complained. My goal was to move my family—my wife and one-year-old son, Lennox—from Brooklyn one day. It would take time. Currently, the money coming in was mostly going back out. It was the way it worked and I knew it.

I looked at my watch as I parked my car. It was later than I’d promised to return home. I’d told Angelina I’d be home for dinner. I’d planned to be. After the meeting with Frazier, I had multiple more. I was on my way to call it a night, when I got the call.

I’d been invited to Carlisle’s, an out-of-the-way little restaurant and bar in Little Italy. The invitation meant two things: my growing success was getting noticed and—since no one refused an invitation—I was going. The meeting went well. I had faith it would. Angelina’s cousin Vinnie had been the one to invite me. Family took care of family.

From the porch I saw the faint glow of a lamp in the living room. Quietly, I opened the front door. On the sofa, covered in a blanket, was my wife. Her long hair was mussed as some of it was bound in a low ponytail and some was free with bits over her beautiful face.

I stood mesmerized for a moment or two, unsure if I should wake her or allow her to sleep. On the end table near her head was a small white box with a thick, golden-colored antennae. It was the newest baby monitor, the one she’d wanted. With it, she could hear Lennox from anywhere in the house even though he was upstairs in the nursery.

I’d always told her not to wait up for me.

Since our son was born, she needed sleep. He was a demanding little guy who now, at nearly a year, was finally sleeping through the night. Every now and then, he’d wake just to see if he could get a response.

Angelina turned, her bedroom eyes slowly opening. “You’re home?” Her raspy voice sent shivers down my spine. Even now, it was like her laughter from college. It was my sunshine.

“I’m sorry about dinner.”

She shook her head as she sat up, the blanket falling and her large t-shirt-type nightgown falling from her bare shoulder. It made me smile. If I’d been asked when I was younger, I would have said my wife would wear silk negligees, not oversized cotton shirts.

“I got your message,” she said. “There are leftovers in the refrigerator if you’re hungry. I can warm it up.” She shrugged. “I made lasagna.”

I sat beside her and reached for her hand. “Damn, I love your lasagna. Baby, Vinnie called. I couldn’t say no.”

“Did it go… okay?”

I leaned forward and covered her lips with mine. She was so damn beautiful.

As the temperature of the room increased, Angelina pulled slightly away while a smile graced her lips. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“Yes, it went very well. I have a few investment opportunities, and it seems as though the backing is there.”

Her smile faded as her hand fidgeted in mine. “Oren, things are going well. I love our home. I miss you. If you take that money you know they’ll expect more.”

“Yes, baby, and so will I. I’m not keeping the money, I’m paying it forward. The interest I’ll collect will more than cover what I’ll owe. I was looking at plans today for a new neighborhood just south of Danbury. The houses will be spaced apart with yards. Just imagine a real yard for Lennox. “We could have a swing set and a patio.”

“We have a yard,” she said.

We didn’t. We had a postage stamp of grass out our back door. That hardly made a yard.

“These houses will be on half an acre. I was thinking that I might commission two lots. That would be a whole acre. That’s more land than we’ve ever owned.”

She stood. “I’m going to check on Lennox. Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

I stood and pulled her close. “Not for food.”

Angelina playfully shook her head. “Well then, you’d better plan on eating lasagna for breakfast for the next few days.”

The corners of my lips moved upward. “The breakfast of champions.”





AFTER TOSSING AND turning for most of the night, I woke early and decided that more sleep was not in my immediate future. The cold sheets were my stark reminder that I was alone. In only a short time, I’d grown accustomed to waking beside Nox, basking in the warmth radiating from his hard body. Closing my eyes, I imagined the way I’d often find his muscular arm draped protectively over my waist as our bodies spooned, fitting together as one. As night turned to morning, even in his sleep his erection would probe my back, the best alarm clock I’d ever had.