The Love Killers
owed money to some big boys in Vegas. Of course, they knew he was good for it. Lots of stars lost at the tables before their salaries even hit their pockets; there was nothing unusual about that. The situation was under control.
    It was no secret when he started going with Margaret Lawrence Brown. In her own way she was as famous as he was. The newspapers and magazines began discussing their relationship as if they were two slabs of prime steak, not human beings with thoughts and feelings.
    At first it was tough, although it didn’t seem to bother Margaret, and if it didn’t bother her, who was he to complain?
    Then she got on her kick about saving the hookers. It wasn’t enough she had every little housewife across America up in arms and ready for revolution. No. She wanted the whores. And when Margaret wanted something, she made sure she got it.
    Her campaign was slow and clever, and at first people laughed. Save the hookers! For what?
    Dukey was also skeptical. He couldn’t help admiring her, but even he didn’t believe she was
that
powerful.
    But that powerful she was. And suddenly people were not laughing any more, and suddenly Dukey began getting a few calls, and suddenly there he was, right in the fuckin’ middle.
    â€˜Stop your girlfriend’s action and we’ll forget about your debt’ was the way the calls started. And as they got heavier and heavier, Dukey tried,
really
tried, to persuade Margaret to stop.
    As usual, she didn’t want to know. Margaret did things her way.
    Eventually he paid off his two-hundred-thousand debt just to get them off his back. He had to borrow the money from a friend out of his past, a narcotics boss named Bosco Sam.
    Immediately the threatening calls stopped.
    A week later Margaret was shot.
    Dukey wanted revenge. He wanted it just as much as Rio and Cass and the two sisters he had known nothing about until after Margaret’s murder.
    Their plan was not going to work. Their plan was to grab Enzio Bassalino’s three sons by the balls sexually and mentally, destroying their lives, and by doing so reduce the old man to a wreck.
    Bullshit.
    No chance.
    Still, Dukey decided he would let them play around until he was ready to put his own plan into action.
    Things were getting involved, only he knew it was going to be
his
way in the end.
    * * *
    Rio paced around the apartment. ‘Dukey’s going to be trouble,’ she warned.
    â€˜He always has been,’ Cass said dryly. ‘Why should now be any different?’
    â€˜I can’t imagine him and Margaret together,’ Lara joined in.
    â€˜Oh, they were something together,’ Rio said. ‘Pure electricity. You know Margaret and her men. If they were easy, they bored her.’
    No, Lara wanted to say. I didn’t know Margaret and her men. I wish I had. The truth was, she hadn’t really known anything about Margaret’s personal life, because she was always too busy talking about herself.
    She glanced over at Beth, the other sister she didn’t know at all. Silently she vowed to make up for the past. She wanted to get to know Beth properly.
    â€˜Well.’ Rio stood up. ‘I gotta make tracks. Four starving kids are waitin’ for mama’s presence.’
    â€˜How old are your children?’ Beth asked.
    â€˜Old enough to drive me
crazee!
’
    Cass stood up, too. The meeting was over. The decision was made.
    Soon revenge would be theirs.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Tall and good-looking, Nick Bassalino was the perfect Italian-American boy. Fine white teeth, often exposed in a ready smile, warm brown eyes, and longish black hair, slightly curling. He was thirty-three and favoured black Italian suits, silk shirts, handmade shoes. Nothing but the best for Nick Bassalino. He lived in style in a large house high above the lights of Hollywood. Not an actor, he’d had many offers because of his almost unbelievable good looks. It was only on close scrutiny

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