Chapter 39

He didn't feel much like being in a bar, but he was going to be married the day after tomorrow, and this was his bachelor party. They set him up in the VIP lounge with all his men and close friends in attendance. Well, that is, if you could call them friends. Most of them just hang around for Luke's money and status. It was his party, and as usual, he'd end up footing the bill. So much for friendship. He missed the days hanging with Roman and Anton. At least then he knew they were real friends, not these leaches. But no, he screwed that up years ago and was left scraping the bottom of the barrel with thieves and hood rats.

Unfortunately, one of the men that worked the loading docks booked the venue they were attending; in the one place Luke didn't want to be. Right in the devil's lair. The newly renovated Club Excalibur. Roman's pet project and the hottest new nightclub in the city.

Yes, Luke was sure now Claudia was cheating, and thet hadn't talked in days, but he had to do this. His family was depending on him. After all the mistakes his father made, he had to pick up the slack and get the Gambino's back in the good graces of the five families. The Ricci's being at the top of the list.

Claudia's father was the head godfather of the five mafia families and they had led Luke to believe this marriage would bring them back to good standing. At least that's what she said. She refused to go to Italy to visit them and Luke hadn't heard anything more than the little his father had been told. He wasn't even sure the Ricci's approved of the wedding. He wasn't stupid either. He wasn't going to visit the Godfather without a formal invitation. They were old school, and you just didn't do that. So, it forced him to wait until the wedding to see if they even showed up.

Watching the men and woman surrounding him in the VIP lounge, he rolled his eyes. "Why am I even here?" he grumbled to himself. "They wouldn't even notice if I left."

The other five families had pretty much exiled them, and he was on his own to set things right. It also meant it left him with a rag-tag bunch of cronies who really had no respect for the Italian families. They were just there for money and social climbing.

He missed the days where his family had clout. The days where they were respected. Clearly the D'Amico's didn't want anything to do with them since Beau's drug problems and death. The Capone's, they were tight with the D'Amico's, so he had no help there. And the Luciano's, they were out for themselves. The Ricci's were his last hope. The marriage was a sham, but he had to make it work.

"Drink up, my brother," Chris, the shipment manager, cheered. "Tonight, we celebrate, because tomorrow, you marry the dragon lady from hell."

"Shut up, that woman is going to be my wife, and I don't even know where the hell she is right now. I can't believe you chose here, of all places, for my bachelor party. Roman has men all over this place, and with my luck, he's laughing his ass off about all this."

Handing him a beer, his Chicago native friend laughed. "That's why I picked it. The guys knew the best way to cheer you up was to piss off D'Amico. Besides, he's not even around. I think I saw that bitchy sister lurking around somewhere. She's a fine piece of ass, but she talks too much. I'd do her if she could take a gag ball, so I don't have to listen to her bratty mouth."

Standing, Luke grabbed the man by the collar, making his so-called friend tense as he shoved him against the wall. "Don't ever talk about her like that. Do you understand me? Remi's a wonderful woman. Her brother might hate my guts, but she's always been there for me. Even when I don't deserve it. I don't want to hear any of you say one damn word about her ever again. Got it!"

Holding his hands up in defense, the guy retreated. "Sorry, bro. I was just joking. Dude, it's your party and you're bumming us all out. We got hot women, stiff drinks, and all night to have a little fun. Relax. Have a beer. Later, we can hit the strip club."

Grabbing the beer bottle, Luke threw it against the VIP wall, making it shatter into a million pieces above the man's head. "Just mind your own business."

In a fit of sudden rage, Luke grabbed a wad of cash from his pocket, cramming it into the man's mouth as he gagged for air. Hearing the man talking about Remi, set him off, and he'd not tolerate anyone talking about her that way.

"Now who can't talk, Chris? Is this why you want to party? To spend my money. Huh? Can you talk now? Speak up asshole! Can you talk now? Need that gag ball to get you off? Piece of worthless shit!" He yelled as he threw the man to the ground and kicked him hard in the ribs for good measure.

Stepping beside him, one of his men tried to calm him. "Luke, let's just calm things down. He didn't mean anything by it. Come on. We came here to celebrate, not fight."

"What's to celebrate, Marco? The fact I know everyone is laughing at me because my future wife is cheating on me. Hell, she's probably been with the lot of you and some in groups. Or maybe I should celebrate my dad is going crazy. Oh, or we could celebrate that everyone thinks I killed one of the best guys I've ever known, and the most upstanding man in the community. Or maybe I need to celebrate Roman D'Amico wanting me dead. What other grand thing should we celebrate? Here," he yelled as he grabbed a bottle of champagne, shaking it up. "Here's to my fucked-up life!"

Popping the bottle, Luke sprayed everyone in the VIP booth with the champagne before he guzzled down most of the rest. Stomping off, he went to the ledge that overlooked the club, fuming at everyone and everything. Across on the other side stood Remi, watching with a sly grin. He knew she had to have been watching and his outburst was more than likely entertainment for her. She loved a good fight, and it was one thing that turned him on most about the woman. She wasn't a pushover.

"Oh, no you don't, you little minx. Not tonight."

Stomping out of the room, he headed to where he knew Roman's office stood over the venue and Remi would be waiting. In one hand, he held the bottle, gulping down more than he should have, considering he was already half drunk. Throwing open the door, it was dark, and the window shades had been closed. In the center was Roman's desk, with a little light shining behind it. There she was, sitting on the desk with that shit-eating grin, wearing only a thong and a smile.

"What took you so long? I was getting cold."