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  RENO GABRINI

  A MAN IN FULL

  By

  MALLORY MONROE

  Copyright©2013 Mallory Monroe

  All rights reserved. Any use of the materials contained in this book without the expressed written consent of the author and/or her affiliates, including scanning, uploading and downloading at file sharing and other sites, and distribution of this book by way of the Internet or any other means, is illegal and strictly prohibited.

  AUSTIN BROOK PUBLISHING

  This novel is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are completely accidental. The specific mention of known places or venues are not meant to be exact replicas of those places, but are purposely embellished or imagined for the story’s sake.

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  MORE INTERRACIAL ROMANCE

  FROM BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  MALLORY MONROE:

  THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND

  SERIES IN ORDER:

  THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND

  THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND 2:

  HIS WOMEN AND HIS WIFE

  DUTCH AND GINA:

  A SCANDAL IS BORN

  DUTCH AND GINA:

  AFTER THE FALL

  DUTCH AND GINA:

  THE POWER OF LOVE

  DUTCH AND GINA:

  THE SINS OF THE FATHERS

  DUTCH AND GINA:

  WHAT HE DID FOR LOVE

  THE MOB BOSS SERIES

  IN ORDER:

  ROMANCING THE MOB BOSS

  MOB BOSS 2:

  THE HEART OF THE MATTER

  MOB BOSS 3:

  LOVE AND RETRIBUTION

  MOB BOSS 4:

  ROMANCING TRINA GABRINI

  A MOB BOSS CHRISTMAS:

  THE PREGNANCY

  (Mob Boss 5)

  MOB BOSS 6:

  THE HEART OF RENO GABRINI

  RENO’S GIFT

  BOOK 7

  THE GABRINI MEN SERIES

  IN ORDER:

  ROMANCING TOMMY GABRINI

  ROMANCING SAL GABRINI

  TOMMY GABRINI 2:

  A PLACE IN HIS HEART

  ADDITIONAL BESTSELLING

  INTERRACIAL ROMANCE

  FROM MALLORY MONROE:

  DANIEL’G GIRL:

  ROMANCING AN OLDER MAN

  ROMANCING MO RYAN

  ROMANCING HER PROTECTOR

  ROMANCING THE BULLDOG

  IF YOU WANTED THE MOON

  INTERRACIAL ROMANCE

  FROM

  BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  KATHERINE CACHITORIE:

  LOVERS AND TAKERS

  LOVING HER SOUL MATE

  LOVING THE HEAD MAN

  SOME CAME DESPERATE:

  A LOVE SAGA

  ADDITIONAL BESTSELLING

  INTERRACIAL ROMANCE:

  A SPECIAL RELATIONSHIP

  YVONNE THOMAS

  AND

  BACK TO HONOR:

  A REGGIE REYNOLDS

  ROMANTIC MYSTERY

  JT WATSON

  ROMANTIC FICTION

  FROM

  AWARD-WINNING

  AND

  BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  TERESA MCCLAIN-WATSON:

  DINO AND NIKKI:

  AFTER REDEMPTION

  AND

  AFTER WHAT YOU DID

  COMING SOON

  FROM

  MALLORY MONROE:

  ROMANCING SAL GABRINI

  BOOK TWO

  DUTCH AND GINA

  THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND SERIES

  BOOK EIGHT

  TOMMY GABRINI

  BOOK THREE

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  ONE

  They left the club after midnight. The music had been good, and the girls had been tolerable, but none of the girls wanted to go to that next level. Jimmy Mack Gabrini was only mildly disappointed, but his friend Constantine, called Connie by most, was downright annoyed.

  “Bunch of fucking gold diggers,” he said as they walked across the street and made their way further around toward Jimmy’s car.

  “Gold diggers?” Jimmy asked with a smile. “What gold you’ve got to dig?”

  “You know what I’m saying. Those girls looking for some sucker to take care of them. That’s all they’re about. Nobody’s got time for that.”

  “You’re angry because that girl wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

  “It was her loss,” Connie bragged. “Stuck up bitch! Who did she think she was? She better be glad she wasn’t in Brooklyn. I would have sailed her ass through that glass if she had been on my turf.”

  Jimmy laughed and shook his head. Connie was all talk, he thought. One of those straight-out-of-Brooklyn Italians his father would say was all talk and no action. But Jimmy liked Con. Mainly because he was fun to be around, but also because he never tried to capitalize on the fact that Jimmy’s father owned the PaLargio Hotel and Casino on the Vegas Strip. All of Jimmy’s other friends constantly begged him for a hook up, as if he could rig a slot machine or bribe a blackjack dealer, or even get them a job with a snap of his finger. But Con was different. He never asked for any favors and Jimmy never offered any. Perfect friendship, Jimmy thought.

  “Just admit it,” Jimmy said. “Every girl you tried to talk to tonight ended up giving you the cold shoulder. Every one of them.”

  “They gave you the cold shoulder too,” Connie said. “It wasn’t just me. They weren’t interested in your ass either. And you’re better looking than I am!”

  Jimmy laughed.

  “But they didn’t give you the time of day either,” Connie continued. “Except that one girl.”

  Jimmy frowned. “What girl?”

  “You know. That tall one in the leather suit.”

  “Oh, her. She was cool.”

  “Cool?” Connie asked with surprise in his voice. “She looked like a freaking water buffalo, and you call that cool? Big head, sloppy ass, dropped tits. But you kept talking to her like she was pretty. Like she was something special. You even bought her a drink!”

  “So?”

  “So? Jimmy, she was ugly, bro. Hate to break it to you. That chick was ug-a-ly! And big as a motherfuck.”

  “She was the best looking girl in the club and you know it. And smart too. But you’d never know that, would you? You’d be too busy dismissing her just because she was overweight.”

  “I like my women small, what can I say?”

  “You like them small,” Jimmy asked, “or you have to have them small? You know what they say. Small boys, in the wiener department that is, have to have small girls.”

  Connie smiled, and then he laughed.

  And they continued laughing and talking as they turned the corner to the side street where Jimmy’s car was parked. They were laughing and talking so much that they didn’t realize someone had been following them from the moment they left the club. They were laughing and talking so much that it was too late, when a gun was being placed at the side of Jimmy’s head, before they realized the danger.

  “Breathe too hard and you’re a dead motherfucker!” the gunman roared. He had come up behind them, and neither one of them had seen him coming.

  Jimmy, who knew what tough guys were capable of just from being around his own tough-guy father, froze.

  “I want your wallet and your keys,” the gunman demanded, and Jimmy immediately complied. The gunman then aimed h
is weapon at Connie, who was backing away.

  “Don’t try me asshole!” he yelled. “Lift those hands where I can see them!”

  Connie quickly lifted his hands and began looking around. They were parked on a side street because there was no parking spaces left in front of the club, and the street had only a couple Ma and Pop stores that had long since closed. Although people were hanging outside of the club, including a couple bouncers, nobody was on the side street. The gunman had free reign, and Connie and Jimmy knew it.

  That was why Jimmy didn’t hesitate giving up his wallet and keys. But as soon as he did, the gunman pushed him in the back with his shoe, knocking him down to the sidewalk. Jimmy fell down hard, onto his stomach, and stretched out his hands at the gunman’s command.

  Then the gunman turned to Connie. “What you waiting for?” he yelled. “Give it up motherfucker!”

  “Alright,” Connie said, his hands up as if the gunman was a policeman.

  “Now bitch!”

  “Just don’t shoot, alright?”

  “Then get on with it! What you waiting on?”

  Connie reached into his pocket and then pulled out, not his wallet or any keys the way Jimmy had done, but a gun of his own. And he fired it almost as quickly as he had pulled it out. The gunman, who was dropping down just as Jimmy was looking up, didn’t stand a chance.

  Jimmy jumped up from the ground, stunned, as he looked at the downed gunman.

  But Connie wasn’t thinking about the gunman. It was all about self-preservation now. “Let’s go!” he yelled, running toward the passenger door of the car. “Let’s get the fuck outta here!”

  “What are you talking?” Jimmy asked with a puzzled look on his face. “We don’t have to run. We didn’t do anything wrong. He was gonna kill us!”

  “You think the cops care about that? They don’t give a shit about that, Jimmy! They’ll put your black ass in jail in a heartbeat, and my white ass right along with it! I can’t take that chance!”

  “But why do we---”

  “Let’s do this, Jimmy! Open the door and let’s go!”

  “But we didn’t do anything wrong!” Jimmy yelled again. “You had to shoot him to save us!”

  “They won’t believe that. I’m telling you they won’t!”

  “But my Daddy can--”

  “Your Daddy?” Connie asked, incredulously. “You think those cops give a damn about your Daddy? Are you kidding me?”

  Connie knew he was fighting a losing battle. There was no way a kid like Jimmy was going to leave the scene of this crime. And Connie panicked. He pointed his gun at his friend with a look on his face that made Jimmy certain he’d pointed that gun many times before. “You don’t know me,” he said with clenched teeth, as if he had to convey just how serious he was. He began backing up, still aiming that gun. He wasn’t playing now. “You hear me, Jimmy? You don’t know me!”

  And he looked at Jimmy a moment longer, with a look of regret, of confusion, of sadness in his big green eyes, and then he took off running in the opposite direction.

  Jimmy fell against his car in his own state of agony. He looked at the downed gunman, looked at the blood and his lifeless black body, and he ran both hands through his curly brown hair. He had a sinking feeling that he should have run too, because Connie was probably right and the cops would try to pin this on him. But he knew he couldn’t run. His father would have killed him if he ran.

  Jimmy’s father, Reno Gabrini, was high on Trina Gabrini’s mind as she drove her Mercedes beneath the front entrance portico of the PaLargio Hotel and Casino. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard once again.

  Damn, she thought as she turned off her ignition. It was already after midnight. Reno was going to have a hissy fit and she knew it. Forget that he almost never made it up to the penthouse before midnight himself, and that coming home late was a routine for him, but she knew he wasn’t going to stand for her coming in this late. Which wasn’t fair in any way, shape or form, she thought as she grabbed her oversized Dior handbag and stepped out of her car. But you couldn’t tell Reno it wasn’t fair.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. Gabrini,” the Valet said as soon as she stepped out.

  “Thanks, Wayne,” she replied as she walked around her car and headed for the entrance. Because her husband owned the PaLargio, she was accustomed to the royal treatment every time she showed her face. But what she wasn’t accustomed to was the general manager, Stanley Quebec, waiting for her as soon as she walked through the double doors and entered the magnificent lobby.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Gabrini,” Stanley said as she entered.

  “Good evening, Stanley. I didn’t expect to see you standing here.” Although she was curious why he would be there, she didn’t stop walking. She was already coming home far too late. She wasn’t about to stop to chat.

  “I didn’t expect to be standing here either,” Stanley said, walking with her. “How are you this fine evening, ma’am?”

  “I’m doing well. And you?”

  “I’m very well also.”

  “And your family? Your boy still in Afghanistan?”

  “That he is, yes ma’am. But we’re prayerful this will be his last tour of duty. Thanks for asking.”

  “He phoned you, didn’t he?” she finally asked.

  The GM, at first, thought she could have still been referring to his son. Then he quickly realized there was only one person she would have been referring to. “Yes ma’am, he did.”

  “He told you to wait for me at the entrance, didn’t he?”

  “He told me to do that very thing, yes ma’am.”

  Reno worked his people to death, she thought. “And?” she asked as they made it up to the private elevators.

  Stanley swiped his keycard on her behalf. “He wants you to come by his office on your way up,” he said.

  She wanted to ask if he sounded upset, but she already knew the answer to that. “Thanks, Stan,” she said as the doors opened, and she stepped on.

  When the doors reopened on the thirtieth floor, and she stepped off and headed toward her husband’s office suite, she braced herself. She didn’t feel like arguing with him again, especially over this same issue, but she would if she had to.

  She entered the outer reception area of his office and found, as expected, a dozen or so of his army of staff assistants still hard at work. There were rows and rows of desks in that area, and most of them were filled. Reno kept crazy long hours and fully expected his young, eager-beaver staffers to keep the same. Although he worked them to the bone, they seemed to relish being a part of the energy that always surrounded Reno and the PaLargio. Which meant turnover on his personal staff was remarkably low.

  “Is he in?” Trina asked one of his assistants, the pretty young female who was seated nearest to his office door as if she wanted to be the first one he called if he needed any of them.

  “He’s in, yes ma’am,” the young blonde replied to her. She picked up her desk phone. “I’ll see if he’s available to see you now.”

  Trina looked at her with a sidelong look. Was this chick for real, she wondered. “That won’t be necessary,” she made clear, and then walked into her husband’s office.

  Not that Trina was surprised by the young girl’s gall. She was accustomed to these cute girls getting jobs on Reno’s staff through their hard work and tenacity, only to then feel as if their beauty was so irresistible that he’d dump his wife for them. As if just being pretty was all it took. It used to bug the hell out of Trina the way these fresh-out-of-college upstarts would disrespect her that way. She used to set them straight as soon as she saw it happening. Now Reno set them straight.

  Trina walked into his office, however, with butterflies in her stomach. She was a grown-ass woman, a businesswoman in her own right, but she still got that sinking feeling whenever she did something she knew Reno wouldn’t approve of. It was crazy and irrational, but it was a fact. Reno was an intimidating man, and he still, at times, intimidated her.


  To Trina’s relief, however, the circus wasn’t in his office the way it usually was. Usually there was a crowd of people all over his massive space. Some would be standing around his desk talking on their cell phones to talent agents or the talent themselves, and then would ask him questions as they came up over the phone. Others would be at the conference table reviewing contracts on his behalf. And still others, the most senior of the managers, would be in his face requesting his immediate feedback on some crisis-level issue they weren’t able to resolve themselves. It was how Reno operated, because he could multitask better than any human being Trina had ever seen. Reno said it was his management style, and often called it the orderly chaos. Trina called it the circus.

  But this time, at this late hour, the circus wasn’t in town. Reno was alone in his office. He wasn’t seated behind his desk, either, but was seated on the couch on the opposite side of the huge room. He looked so serene, she thought, with his legs crossed as he read over a large stack of files, as if he was easygoing personified. But she knew better than that. She knew there was nothing easy about Reno Gabrini.

  “Hey,” she said, staring at him. And then he looked up.

  TWO

  Trina smiled when Reno looked up from the stack of papers he was reviewing. She knew he was ready to pounce, but she was determined to make the situation as lighthearted as she possibly could. Not that it would matter in the long run. She knew it wouldn’t. He didn’t like her out this late, that was all there was to it, especially since he’d warned her before about keeping these kinds of hours. It was hypocritical on his part, since he kept these kinds of hours all the time, but getting him to see it that way was impossible.