Chapter 4

"I'm a damn good dad. Take care of my family back in Italy, and I'm gonna do the same here in the U.S."

"Any idea when you might have to head back?"

"As far as I know, I'm sticking around for a while. Every time I hint at going home, they toss more cash my way. It's a sweet little trick."

"Do they know about me?"

"Yeah, they do. Safer for both of us that way. If they think I'm keeping stuff from them, they get all suspicious. And when suspicion kicks in, the first thing on their minds is money. People get real ticked off quick when it comes to their cash."

"You never did give me an answer about my fifty grand."

"Let's head up to your old man's office, snoop around, see what we got. One of his secretaries can fill us in on the payroll system and how it works. If it's in-house, I could lend a hand, 'cause I do know a thing or two about money."

Using his computer skills, William cleared out all of Laura's old man's overseas accounts and shifted the money back into accounts he'd set up for her. These banks were owned by foreign companies, and the moment this cash hit their system, buddies of his working there digitized it into billions of ones and zeros, avoiding any alarms from the U.S. Treasury. Those friends sent it back into William's master account, where it got lost in the multi-billion-dollar portfolio he managed. Now, the money was clean, even though everything in William's account was dirty. Legally, it flowed from William's account into Laura's. He'd come up with this system, brought it to life, and now he managed it for families stretching from Boston to Philly. Laura's dough was like a drop in the Pacific Ocean.

With William's help, Laura brought in a management company to run her old man's business while they put it up for sale.

Laura had never witnessed William in action before. But sitting next to him during meetings with potential buyers, she felt sorry for the folks trying to snag her company. She used to think business execs were supposed to be civil in meetings like this, but she quickly found out they were more like carnivores. The buyers aimed to devour the sellers from the top down—getting the lowest price and the sweetest deal. The sellers did their best to hold them off, flaunting their balance sheets, business trends, and forecasts. The buyers were good, but William was better.

William shut down those buyers because he found their terms and offers downright insulting. But he could smell how bad they wanted Laura's business. They pitched an offer, and William shot it down without a second thought. Another attempt, and a few days later, he straight-up told them not to bother coming back, saying they were just wasting his client's time. The buyers insisted on one last shot at a lower price, saying, "Nice chatting, but your price is way too high. We're out."

William didn't say a word. He got up, strolled around the table, and coolly opened the door. The buyers' bluff had been called. Now it was their call: hit the road or make the buy.

The paperwork got signed that day, and contracts were sealed three weeks later. The money went into the bank, after the government took their slice. Laura pocketed twenty-eight million dollars and change, and that wasn't the end. Her old man had a five million dollar insurance policy for himself and a one million dollar policy on her mom. The family home sale brought in an extra two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Last Christmas, she barely had two nickels to rub together. Come May, she had thirty-five million in the bank she knew of, and another eighteen million waiting in the wings. Now she was out for payback.

She took William to dinner at the spot where they first met. Clearing out the kitchen, she whipped up some linguine, a special dish for William, served with "a dash of oregano, butter, oil, and garlic." Placing it in front of him, she had a big grin on her face.

William eyeballed his dinner, recognizing a few ingredients. He licked it, gave it a sniff, and said, "Tangy and a bit salty. I know who whipped up this recipe."

"You got it, William, and she put a lot into this one. Bon appétit."

"Where's your grub, Laura?"

"You gotta step into the kitchen and cook it up for me. Remember? You tasted me; now it's my turn to taste you."

"You're spot on, my dear. I'll be right back. Do you want linguine or angel hair?"

"Angel hair will do just fine."

While William was occupied, Laura waved over Michael, the owner of the joint. She said, "Michael, you were so good to me all those college years. Kept me on, even when things weren't hopping enough to justify it. Can't thank you enough for treating me like family. I want to give you this gift. It's for you and your family, for being kind to someone you didn't know but treated like kin." She handed him a check for five hundred grand.

Michael stared at the check and said, "Laura, I can't take this money. You're like a daughter to us. Family doesn't take money from family."

"Michael, put this money to good use. Spruce up the joint if you want, or stash it away for your kids' college. Whatever you decide, let it be a reminder of how you made me happy these last four years. And for me, it's a reminder of how you made my education possible."

William strolled out from the back, carrying a plate of steaming angel hair pasta. He asked Michael, "Did she or didn't she?"

"She did, William. Couldn't talk her out of it, no matter what I tried."

"I told you she's a force to be reckoned with, Michael. I hardly ever win an argument with her either."

"You two placed bets on what I'd do tonight?"

William chuckled, "Wasn't a real bet, no money changing hands. But I did warn him you were gonna hand him some cash tonight for being the bighearted guy he is. Like father, like son. He pulled me off the streets, and look where I am now."

"That's how you two know each other?" she asked, giving her former boss a kiss.

"William, is that my dinner in your hand getting cold? If it is, toss it and make a fresh one."

William smirked, "You'd be waiting forever for your next plate of pasta. The chef's been completely drained."

"Then put it down so I can eat it while it's still warm, please."

William asked, "A nice Chianti, if you please, Michael."

"Yes, sir, right away."

He looked at Laura, saying, "We should dine here more often, especially when the meals are like this."

Laura plucked a piece of hair from her pasta and said, "I might have to give you a trim, Mr. Zabo. As much as I love this meal, I can do without the extra topping."