Vita Mia (Battaglia Mafia Series Book 10) Read online

  “Why are you wearing those glasses?” Harris asked when he and Ryder walked away. “Take them off. They make you look weird.”

  “I lost a contact. I need them.”

  “Take them off,” Harris insisted.

  “Fuck you,” Ryder said.

  Harris gave him a quizzical look. He shrugged and walked away. “Stay out of trouble kid, and stay the fuck away from me,” he tossed back over his shoulder.

  “Suck my dick,” Ryder mumbled. He wasn’t a kid. Tonight, he would prove it. Ryder touched his wrist. He looked down as if he were simply checking the time and confirmed his camera was switched on. The digital display on his watch gave him a video image that showed his aerial focus and he adjusted it.

  “Showtime.”

  Ryder walked through the party. The first thing he noticed that piqued his interest wasn’t the celebrities drinking and mingling. It was the women that served every guest. They were all petite and shapely, with the same silky black hair parted at the center that flowed to their waist, no matter the ethnicity the hair was the same. These ladies wore black fitted dresses that were short on the leg and high-heels so tall they must have been acrobats to walk in them. They were classy. With one distinction. The gloves on their left hand. Black gloves with dark crystals along the finger. Each woman wore one glove. Why? Was that code for something?

  They were not the kind of women you’d think would sign up to be servers, but the kind of women that would grace the cover of a magazine. Ryder would bet his life that the honeys all wore the same bra and panty size too; though he’d welcome the attention of any one of them, their similarities felt odd.

  “Welcome,” a woman with copper brown skin and dark brown doe-eyes greeted him. She plucked a crystal flute of champagne from the silver serving tray and offered it to him.

  He shook his head no. A sly smile lifted the left corner of her ruby lips. Her long dark lashes lowered as her gaze swept down and then up to his waist before returning to his stare. She gave him a nod of appreciation and then she moved on. Ryder watched her slide up to another guest and then another. As if in a trance he followed her, focused on the sway of her hips and the beauty of her slender legs. She walked him through the party and he bumped shoulders with the world’s elite. Record producers, and industry people in ‘Hollywood’ he’d seen on television were present. But when he left that room and entered a smoking room he found it was occupied by a different power structure. Politicians were the ones gathered. These men and women smoked cigars and were part of the political infrastructure that had courted a celebrity reality TV star to run for the Presidency. No one in the world thought the hotel mogul had a chance but when Ryder looked at those gathered he had to wonder—why not. He smelled the richness and power among them. A few of the hostesses sauntered around the political rats in similarly revealing dresses. Nothing appeared obscene or out of order, but the ladies heightened sex appeal seemed to appease the men. One Senator ran his pointer finger up the invisible center line of the leg of a woman who had bent at the waist to offer his companion a glass of champagne. She didn’t seem to mind.

  There was music too. He heard it outside and knew it was a DJ spinning out the most popular rap tunes. But inside the music was different. A soulful voice sang in harmony with a live band. She beckoned him to another room. Ryder had gotten some good footage. These politicians exposed on his vlog would validate the exclusivity of the event. He couldn’t be happier. Before he was noticed as a lurker he decided to follow the harmony of the song-birds voice. He’d sweep the outside grounds last. He had to get closer to the real meaning of the event and then bounce. He didn’t trust Harris. Something about the place felt dangerous.

  Through the open archway he entered a more subdued room. People sat at small intimate poker tables with dealers standing. And on the stage performing was the new Neo-Soul goddess whose song Ebony Eyes was climbing the charts. Her name was Lola, and she was far more beautiful in person than on Instagram. Ryder loved her music, watched all of her videos and public appearances. Lola was a biracial woman with butterscotch brown skin, and a riot of dark curly hair that cascaded in ringlet curls around her face. She wore a ruby-red sequined one shoulder mini-dress and matching shoes. The lights above that shined down on her made the tight material that clung to her hips, and rose up her shapely thighs sparkle as she swayed and stroked the microphone seductively. Her lips drew in closer to the microphone and barely parted as she belted out a low tune that seemed to stir up from the deepest part of her soul. It was her signature talent and the reason why even guys like him that listened to hardcore urban music would turn her on in his earbuds to sleep too at night.

  Lola smiled and continued to sing to him. It took mental strength he didn’t know he had to turn away. Ryder headed toward the bar. There were far too many security guards and not enough people near the bar. Why was there so much security? He hadn’t seen shit to justify it.

  “Vodka and ah... Redbull,” he said to the bartender.

  The bartender frowned but nodded to his request.

  “They don’t make Vod-Bombs here,” a soft voice spoke to his left.

  Ryder glanced over.

  Another beauty was at his side. She smiled up at him. He was taken aback by her smile. It was the friendliest he’d seen since he arrived.

  “You’re ordering a drink for college kids. Here, you’re supposed to order top-shelf. Say something like Gin and Dubbonet. And if you want to let your nuts hang order what my brothers do. A Hangman’s blood,” she whispered into his ear.

  She turned sideways and faced him as she leaned at the bar. He took the time to get a good look at her. She had dark black hair with an Egyptian style cut that went past her shoulders. Her skin was deep and flawless. Maybe it was the track lights from above them and around the bar that made her look more bronze than brown. He wasn’t sure. But she had a refreshing difference to the other women present. She was born to be different. He could tell. And she wore a dress like the singer Lola. Except hers was golden and sleeveless. Her breasts were pushed up nicely and her waist so petite the curve of her hips and ass was any man’s dream. What struck Ryder the most wasn’t her hypnotic beauty. She had an accent. An Italian accent that rivaled her African American appearance. It chimed in her voice and rolled from her tongue so playfully sweet he wanted her to speak again. Ryder pushed his glasses up on his nose.

  “You don’t belong here,” she said.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked.

  “You know why. How did you get in here?” she teased.

  He didn’t answer. She had to be his age. How the fuck did she know he didn’t belong? And what exactly would belonging mean?

  She leaned in closer. When she did the security goons whose gazes were shielded by dark lenses heads turned, and all attention was reverted to them. It was like their moves were the commands of a puppeteer. You’d see the Secret Service do the same when a commoner stepped to the President. Smooth and lethal. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. She must have noticed. She glanced back and then again to him.

  “They’re watching you,” she whispered.

  “Who the fuck are they?” Ryder answered.

  “Don’t worry. They only bite if I tell them too.”

  “Then who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m MiaBella!” She extended her hand. “My friends call me Mia.”

  “Ryder,” he said and shook her hand.

  “I saw you checking out Lola. She’s good. Isn’t she?”

  “Ah, yeah,” Ryder stammered.

  “She’s my cousin. I manage her,” Mia said. “Well, sorta. I’m more of her social media agent. My brother has her signed to his record label. But I do all the real work, when I can. I’m in school so it’s hard to keep up with her.” Mia then turned her gaze back to him. “I like that name. Ryder. Where are you from?”

  “Atlanta, originally. I moved to New York a few years ago.”

  “Is it true what they say of Atl
anta? That it’s poppin’, and where all the black people live?”

  Ryder frowned. She was black and didn’t know. He wasn’t sure how to answer. When he didn’t answer she chuckled.

  “Enjoying yourself?” she asked.

  “Huh?” he stammered.

  “At the party?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, some party. Never seen so many celebrities in my life.”

  “Oh, I get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “You’re an assistant to someone, huh? This is your first?”

  “Ah, yeah, my first,” Ryder said.

  “Andiamo. Let me give you the tour.”

  Ryder almost objected but she walked away as if it were nothing for her to command something of someone and have them do as she asked. They left the songbird and her audience. Lola tracked them with her eyes, he was sure of it, but she kept singing. Together they entered a hall to another corridor. Two men who were her security fell in step behind her.

  Ryder used to be down for street fighting and boxing. That changed when he discovered his talent for gaming and hacking. He spent more time in a chair in front of a computer than putting in work. Still he was prepared to fight and flee if something went wrong. One of these security goons he might be able to escape, but he doubted he could do so with both, so Ryder was careful. For the moment, he had the liberty to walk at her side. And he took it.

  Another one of the hostesses with a tray of champagne flutes passed him by.

  “Why do they wear those gloves?” Ryder asked.

  MiaBella smiled. “My sister. Every woman that works for her does. It’s her thing.”

  “Who is your sister?” Ryder asked.

  She ignored the question. “So you live in New York, huh? I live in New York now. Me and Lola. We live in Harlem.”

  “Really? My aunt owns a restaurant in Chelsea. You have to check it out. It’s Italian. Best Italian you’ve probably ever had in your life.”

  Mia giggled. “I doubt it.”

  “What? I’m telling you my aunt is the real thing.”

  “If you say so,” Mia responded.

  Ryder smiled too.

  “This is where the fun starts,” she gestured to everyone gathered as they entered the room. Ryder stopped in his tracks. The ballroom had been turned into a strippers’ delight. There were six different stages. Four to the corners of the room and two facing each other at the center. Women on poles and platforms gyrated and danced erotically in nothing but sequined and jeweled covered ski-masks that had no discernible eye, nose or mouth opening. How did they see? How did they breathe?

  The ladies all had on the singular glove on their left hand. And strutted in studded sparkling stilettos. No one would know their faces this evening. But every man in the room would remember their bodies. Thick thighs, ass cheeks that bounced and jiggled and perfect breasts would be burned into his memory forever. One spun around a pole then dropped in a split that surely would cripple a novice. Others danced and crawled around the stages. Most people were at tables watching. A few men stood near the stages with their drinks to get a closer view.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “The waiting room,” Mia said.

  “Waiting? For what?” he glanced to a loud rambunctious crowd who were part of the hip-hop elite in a private section. He couldn’t imagine those dudes would travel to a remote island just for a strip show.

  “They’re hoping for an invitation,” Mia continued.

  Ryder looked down at the brown beauty at his side. “But they have an invitation, they’re inside.”

  “No. This is not where they want to be. Let me show you.”

  Her hand slipped to his. She had slender fingers and a palm as soft as satin. He wondered if her body was soft in the same way. Ryder held her hand as she walked him around the room toward the stairs. He glanced back. The security team had tripled in numbers. Now they had six men on them. He looked out at the celebrities and wealthy people gathered and his focus narrowed on Harris. His benefactor stood next to an heiress with his mouth gaping open. He stared up at Ryder as if he were the celebrity. The tables had indeed turned. Ryder didn’t know how. He wished she would let his hand go so he could activate the camera in his eyeglasses again. But he’d gone too far to risk distracting her.

  On the top floor they walked along the hall and he discreetly thumbed his watch to turn on the camera and noticed that Mia’s security team fell a bit behind them. Ryder’s gaze lowered to her ass and hips. She was all natural. In a day where beautiful young women were injecting their bottoms with poison Mia had the curves that reminded a man why he should prefer real over artificial.

  She led him to a closed black door with black handles. Two men with guns stood before it. Not handguns, but assault rifles that were terrifyingly real. They looked at Mia and one of them actually smiled. The other glared at Ryder.

  “He’s with me. My personal guest,” MiaBella said.

  The men glanced at each other.

  “Gino approved this. Now open the door!” MiaBella demanded.

  The men nodded. The door was opened and Ryder held back his smile as he stepped inside to his destiny.

  Chapter Two

  August 22, 2016

  Jekyll Island, Georgia

  “DON’T BE SHY. GO AHEAD. Look around.”

  Ryder wasn’t shy. He was stunned. He’d never seen so much wealth in one place. The display cases housed jewels in all sizes and shapes. He’d step to one podium and stared at an assortment of rubies made into necklaces, the rarest watches in the world that only graced the wrists of Saudi Kings, and diamonds that were so bright he squinted when he stared too long. There was gold, there was platinum and titanium. There were minerals he couldn’t put into words.

  “What is this?” he said and pointed to the walls of stolen artifacts and rare paintings.

  “So many wars, now. The Western world of rich assholes makes up about 15 percent of the global population. The other 85 percent live in poverty. These are all stolen from those people. Rare antiquities taken from their war-torn lands that in a few years will be priceless. A collector’s paradise,” she said as if disgusted. “It’s shameful. Disgusting.”

  “Why is this place here?”

  “What do you mean why is it here? You’ve seen who is at this party. Evil. Evil comes for evil.” MiaBella said and crossed her arms. “It’s here because they are here.”

  “To buy it?” Ryder frowned.

  “An auction. It starts, in an hour,” she looked at her watch.

  “Auction?” he repeated and walked over to the encased jewels. MiaBella pointed to the front of the room where an elevated platform was set for the festivity. Though the jewels were interesting. This was not what he expected. Celebrities all around the world gathered, and clamored to come in here to buy gems and stolen antiquities? It made no sense.

  “Where’s the rest of it!” he demanded.

  MiaBella frowned.

  Ryder corrected his tone. He forced a smile. “I mean, this can’t be all.”

  MiaBella stared at him. Something in the way she stared at him sent a shiver up his spine. Maybe it was her silence. Maybe it was her lack of fear. Something felt off. And he wasn’t sure what to do or say next to get her to reveal the identity of the heads of the Illuminati.

  “Who are you? Really?” MiaBella asked.

  “I told you... I’m an assistant too—”

  “No. That’s what I told you,” MiaBella said.

  Ryder gave her a nervous chuckle. He slipped her his charming smile. He knew he was handsome to girls. He had dark black hair and green eyes. He was fit enough to look athletic even if he wasn’t. And the scar on his brow from a fight he had in the detention center gave a slash through his right brow that made him look mysterious and tough.

  “Look, if this is it then I’ll just go back downstairs babe. I was just hoping to see what really went down in a place like this.”

  “You interested in buying somethi
ng more?”

  Ryder’s interest peeked. She flashed that beautiful smile of hers that disarmed him. “More like what?” he asked.

  “You tell me? What do you want Ryder? Name it?”

  Ryder searched his brain. What would the Illuminati put a price tag on that only the elite could afford to buy in secret? He decided to roll the dice. To see if this place was everything he expected it to be. “A girl. A beautiful, girl like you.”

  He gambled wrong. MiaBella’s smile disappeared from her lips. She flashed rage in such a fierce turn of a second Ryder expected her to scream for the men with guns. She did not. Instead, she took a threatening step toward him with fists clenched.

  “You want to buy a fucking person!” she asked. “A child? A sex-slave? Is that it?”

  “Ah... no, uh, I...”

  “You’re a fucking sicko! Sei un fottuto pervertito!”

  “What? Hey, chill. Okay? I’m sorry. It came out wrong. I want you.”

  “Me? Sei un uomo morto!”

  “I... you asked—”

  “You want to buy me!”

  “No! No. No. No. Shit.” Ryder glanced to the door behind him. Beyond it were the scariest looking dudes he’d ever seen. All she had to do was scream and it was over for him. He knew it. He was losing ground quickly.

  “You had me pegged. I’m an assistant to Jason Harris. And for months he bragged about this event and how exclusive it was, how secretive it was. I was expecting... I don’t know. I just didn’t expect all of his excitement to be about... jewels? Then I met you. And... you’re beautiful. Really beautiful. I got a little too confident. I didn’t know what to ask for. Since I’ve been here I’ve seen women dancing and walking around. Men gawking at them. I don’t know. I thought it was one of those sex places or something.”

  MiaBella’s brows lowered as if she were trying to determine the truth.

  “We can go. I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She let go a deep sigh. She paced away from him. It was apparent her distaste for the place had her jumpy as well, and he had respect for her. At least she was genuine and not plastic like the celebrities he’d encountered.