Enemy (The Aces Book 3)

by A. J. Macey

“Are you fucking serious?” Garrett snapped. “That’s so not fucking happening.” My rage flared, my control over my emotions slowly slipping the longer the day went on. Whipping to face him fully, I jabbed him in the chest with a finger.

  “You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do, Garrett. I appreciate you looking out for me, but I have to do this. Alone.”

  “But you’re not alone, Kittycat,” Chase said softly. I sighed at his frown and confused puppy dog eyes.

  “No, I’m not. You didn’t let me finish explaining the plan. There’s an old staircase that was paneled over in the last reno Frankie did of the casino, seemingly forgotten but I’ll take the elevator and you guys will come up the stairs. It’s a hidden door, just press one of the sides, and it’ll pop open. There’s going to be at least four guards in the marble hall leading to his office that you’ll have to take care of. The only thing is that until I kill my father, the door will be sealed and secured from the inside, so you’ll be in the hall while I deal with my father.” I rolled my shoulders back and took a quick break, readying myself for the argument I was about to have to deal with. Keeping my eyes on the far wall, I tried to avoid looking at them, knowing they wouldn’t be happy.

  “This is a terrible idea,” Brooks groaned, rubbing his eyes. Try as I might to not look to him, I couldn’t stop myself. His jaw ground together rhythmically as he figured out what to say. After another tense moment of silence, he spoke. “But you’re the expert, and I’d rather kill some guards and be waiting right outside than sitting on my ass and twiddling my thumbs.”

  Garrett and Stone were quiet, contemplating the plan with thinned lips and narrowed eyes. While Chase was silent, his expression changed in minute shifts, one of the only barely visible signs that he was going back and forth with his alter. The ding telling us we reached the second-highest floor was loud in the silence. When the shiny door opened, it revealed the casino space was devoid of visitors playing the high-end tables or slots.

  “The staircase is in the Southeast corner. You’ll hear the hollow thud when you knock on the wall. The top of the staircase is hidden behind the same kind of panel door, but you’ll need to be quick and precise against the guards. Does anyone have a flashbang or smokescreen?” I bulleted the rest of the information quietly, knowing as soon as they stepped off the elevator I only had so much time to get into my father’s office before they came up. If I’m not in the secured space by then, I will have lost my only chance.

  “Yes,” Stone answered, lifting his shirt to show a small bag strapped to his hip. Nodding, I looked around them one final time.

  “I love you guys,” I whispered. The air between us was tense and thick with heavy emotions, all of us knowing this could be our last moments together but none of us willing to say that aloud.

  Each of them echoed the sentiment, kissing me before exiting the elevator. When it was just me, I hit the button for my father’s office, and after a moment, my men disappeared behind a shiny door. I stepped back from the door, looking up at the camera.

  “Bring me up,” I called out. “I know you want to finish our little family reunion. We have a lot to discuss.”

  I heard the guys talking in the comm about the space as they worked their way toward the corner where I said the staircase was, but I tuned it out. Right now, it was about my revenge, and I needed to focus. There was a long moment as I waited before the elevator finally started to move. Discreetly digging out the comm, I tucked it in my pocket. This was between my bastard father and I, and I didn’t want an audience listening to one half of the conversation and being off their game when they came up. My heart thudded as the doors opened. Scanning the hall, I was met with four men I recognized from growing up in Frankie’s house of horrors. As I stepped over the elevator threshold, they eyed me with appreciation, a shiver working its way down my back at the predatory looks.

  “If it isn’t little Kiera Casterelli, all grown up,” one taunted. Another tried to reach out to slap my ass, but I was faster, grabbing hold of a couple fingers. The bones crunched under my sharp twist, and his girly screams echoed off the marble in a way that filled me with delight. Gotta always appreciate the simple things in life.

  “I don’t exist for your entertainment,” I hissed, squeezing his broken fingers in a tight grip.

  “Kiera,” my father called. “Enough.”

  It took everything in me to bite back the whipping comment I wanted to toss at him for calling me like a dog, but I managed.

  Somehow.

  A dark grin threatened to appear on my face as I released the asshole’s fingers, but I easily schooled my mask into place. Turning to face my father and all his cold perfection at the opening of his office, I forced my feet to move. It was difficult due to the urge to just grab Chase’s gun at my lower back, but as much as I wanted revenge, I also wanted to walk away from this.

  I hadn’t come this far to only come this far.

  When the sound-proofed security door closed back into place, leaving just my father and me alone together for the first time in five years, acid burned my throat. The rage pulsed, growing as he walked toward his desk, seemingly unconcerned about me as a threat. He’ll learn soon enough, I thought, stepping deeper into the lavish space Frankie ran his empire from.

  The floor was the same polished marble as the rest of the walkways and halls of the casino. Windows spanned the entire far wall, the Nevada desert stretching for miles beyond the glass. Darkness of night mixed with the soft glow from the city, creating an unfittingly serene view as I scanned outdoors.

  Built-in bookshelves filled the wall behind his ornate wooden desk, the detail to the wood just as elaborate as his desk and office table to my right. The wall behind me and the one to the right held expensive art pieces and alcoves for pieces worth more than some people’s life savings. The only piece in here that wasn’t hand carved wood or art was the antique bar cart off to my left, Jace’s empty glass from earlier that day washed and put back in its place. Always the perfectionist, I thought with a sneer.

  “Why have you come here, Kiera?” Frankie asked, his icy tone hard as he filled his glass. “The Aces MC, as well as Chase Yarwood, have been running amok over the last seven months, and I want an explanation as to why.”

  “Hello. I am Kiera Casterelli. You killed my mother. Prepare to die,” I quoted, altering the famous line to fit the situation. Hey, nothing kills the panic like a good bit of comedic relief, am I right? My father glared, not amused by my smartass response.

  With a sigh, I continued, “Why what? Why someone finally decided they wanted to clean the area of your unique brand of filth?” My brow arched as I looked at him. His gaze sharpened at my tone, his fingertips turning white as he gripped the glass tightly. More than a sliver of me prayed he would shatter the glass, slicing his hand, but no such luck.

  Wanting to push my father, bring him to the brink of a breakdown, I strode confidently to the cart and picked up the decanter. My eyes never strayed from his despite the disgust flowing through my veins. Issuing that silent challenge, I took a large swig straight from the crystal container.

  “Must you always be such an utter disappointment?” he hissed. The question should have offended me, but all it made me do was laugh, the sound bouncing off the surfaces of the room.

  “You never cared if I was a disappointment,” I countered, my feet carrying me toward his desk. I wanted to look him in the eye when I finally asked the one question that burned in my mind. “All you cared about was whether I was a valuable commodity to your business,” I sneered. “It never mattered that I was your daughter, did it? I was just another pawn to be used and abused at your convenience. You want to know why The Aces started to come after you? Well, I want to know why you came after me. You’re my father; you should have protected me, or even shown some semblance of giving a shit, and instead, you used me as a tool.”

  For years, I had spent hours wondering. What about me was so worthless and why my life couldn’t be l
ike others that I had read about? How did I get the short end of the stick to end up with someone worse than Satan as my father? All these negative thoughts swirled around in my head, finally coming to light after years of ignoring them. Every memory, nightmare, and moment spent in hell broke through my mental barriers, flooding my senses until I felt as if I was drowning. I guess the thing about confronting your demons is that you actually need to face them. Can’t pretend that they don’t exist anymore.

  Knowing I wouldn’t be able to function if I didn’t quiet the clamor of my memories, I called upon the darkness that had grown inside me long ago. It slithered through my mind, dimming the flare of every recollection, every too-intense feeling that might ruin what I had been working toward all these years. My carefully cultivated cold detachment, the distance that I coveted in moments such as these, came forward, silencing the rush of emotions that had threatened to overtake me.

  Yet there was still one tiny hint of curiosity that I couldn’t squash. Now that the bastard and I were face to face once more, I could finally have an answer.

  And then, I would kill my father.

  “You were a mistake.” He sneered in disgust. “An accident that crumbled my entire empire in Italy. What good was a useless child?” he spat, a hand smoothing over his tie as he glared at me. “But then a business opportunity presented itself, a move that would give me everything I had lost in Europe. You became a means to an end, Kiera, nothing more. You question why I didn’t protect you when you should be questioning why anyone would find you worthy of protecting. Hell, let alone want you at all if you weren’t useful.”

  At first, I didn’t feel anything other than numb, but ever so slowly, the rage I’d suppressed burned and sparked. The ball of fury grew until my body nearly vibrated.

  I wanted to break him.

  I wanted him to lose that perfection and calmness he prided himself on, to stand over him as he slowly came unhinged. Until I’d escaped, he’d taken everything from me—my mother, my freedom, my safety, my body. I wanted him to know that I had taken and could still take from him too. The victory he thought he’d had over me all these years had all been an illusion of my own making.

  In our final moments together, I would be the only one in control.

  Scoffing, he glanced down at his glass, swirling the last of the amber liquid in the cup. It was the opening I needed. I was swinging the thick crystal decanter before he even realized what was happening. When it connected with his jaw, it shattered, and my father stumbled backward from the force of the hit.

  I didn’t wait, launching myself over the top of the desk, not even feeling the cutting pieces of glass that sliced into my palm. Frankie attempted to reach for a weapon, but I reached him before he could. Another well placed punch to the bloody injury on his face sent him sprawling out onto the tile.

  “You know what, Frankie?” I taunted, pushing him closer to the edge. I stalked closer, each step I took making him scramble away. “You think you know so much, that you’re untouchable. But you’re not. You bleed just like the rest of us.”

  “Fuck you,” he hissed, slipping his hand into his jacket. Lunging, I wrestled the gun from his grasp. Panting and breathless, I tugged the weapon from his grip, but his other hand shot out. A searing pain flared on my ribs, and I glanced down to see the knife in his hand, glistening with my blood.

  The adrenaline helped keep the pain at bay, allowing me to focus on gaining control of the knife. His metal Rolex was cold against my palm as I grabbed his wrists, slamming my knee up between his legs. I took the opportunity to yank the knife free as his fingers loosened ever so slightly, a strangled grunt came from Frankie as his eyes slammed closed.

  As soon as I had the weapon, I scrambled to my feet all while pulling Chase’s gun from my waistband. My father continued to groan from his position on his side, curling into himself slightly as I stared down at the pitiful bastard. The thudding of my heart in my ears slowed to a more normal pace, and my vision sharpened. I cocked the gun, appreciating the silence and the peace that it brought me.

  “This is the great Frankie ‘Smokes’ Casterelli? I’ve got to admit, I was expecting much more of a fight,” I muttered the last bit, knowing it was quiet enough in the room for him to hear me. That was all it took, one simple line to break his facade of control.

  “You fucking bitch!” he screamed. “You are nothing! Just some fucking cunt who looked pretty for the camera! Your mother belonged to me just like you do, and I’ll bury you in the desert just like I did that ungrateful bitch! You are nothing without me, a nobody. As soon as you turned eighteen, you scurried away. You didn’t have the balls to face me until you had a bunch of men to hide behind like the coward you truly are—”

  A single laugh fell from my lips, cutting him off. Frankie’s gaze narrowed, burning with suspicion as he glared. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the one thing I knew would completely break him. A sick sense of glee filled me at the thought of utterly wrecking this vile piece of shit before finally ending him.

  “Coward? Hiding behind my men? Huh… well, then what’s this?” I asked, flipping the business card between my fingers before flicking it onto the floor next to my father’s prone figure. I knew the exact moment he realized what he was looking at. Despite his jaw being battered, it opened and closed several times without anything coming out. I watched as blood gushed down his neck and stained his once perfectly white dress shirt and expensive suit jacket with glee. Not so perfect now, huh? I thought in triumph.

  “You,” he whispered, looking up to me with eyes widening in surprise. “You’re The Cat.”

  “Ding, ding, ding, daddio,” I sneered, stepping closer but stopping just outside of his reach. I took in my father for the final time. Dirty, bloody, and laid out on his precious Carrara marble floor, his slicked back hair messy, and shined shoes scuffed and cut with glass. A cruel smile curled my lips, years of work finally coming to head.

  “You think I’ve hidden behind my men for the last few months when I’ve been hunting you for years. You say no one would want me, that I’m not worthy of life unless you deem it so.” Holding up my left hand, I wiggled my fingers, and his eyes zeroed in on my engagement ring. “When I have five men who want nothing more than me. I had years to come up with everything I wanted to say to you when I had you, but now that we’re finally here, I realize I’m not going to give a big spiel, as much of a disappointment as that would be to most screenwriters. All I want is your death.” Frankie didn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before I pulled the trigger.

  Silence reigned around me. My mind, my rage, and the urge for revenge all quieted as my father grew cold on the floor. Free, I realized, I was finally free of the nightmares that haunted me.

  I stood there for a few long minutes, soaking up the calm within me and struggling to come up with how to truly feel. Years, almost my entire life, had been spent with one goal in mind.

  Kill my father.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed, my eyes burning with the building tears, but I blinked them away. A smile spread over my face as my speechlessness faded to the freeing sensation of victory. At the relief, I started to laugh, happy beyond measure. “Ow, fuck,” I hissed when a sting flared from my right side.

  Looking down, I found my shirt sticky and wet from the blood that had been seeping from the cut. “It could have been worse, I guess,” I murmured before scrunching my face together. “Why the fuck am I talking to myself? Why am I like this?” Digging out my comm, I shoved the piece in my ear all while walking over to the desk in search of the camera feeds.

  “Both of you, shut the hell up!” Brooks snapped as soon as I had the earbud secured in my ear. “She doesn’t have her comm in, so none of us know what’s going on. Fighting about it isn’t going to help matters.”

  “Well, you’re not doing much better with that whole not panicking front there, Boss,” Garrett countered, his sass coming through loud and clear.

  “Hey, boys,” I cut
in before they could continue to scream at each other. My eyes found them almost immediately on the monitor, all four standing outside the security panel to the office, my father’s men dead on the ground.

  “You little…” Garrett huffed when he heard my voice. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. “You scared the shit out of us. This barrier is soundproofed, so of course you would think it’d be a good idea to take your comm out.” My eyes crinkled as I smiled, happy to know even at the end of a war Garrett could still be his sexy assholey self.

  “Are you okay, Baby?” Brooks asked.

  “Got a decent sized slice on my ribs, but yeah… yeah, I’m good. Give me a second to find the button to open this stupid thing.” Before looking for the button, I scanned the other security cameras. A breath of relief whooshed from my lungs when I noted the fight down on the first floor was done. Elliot’s red curly hair was bright on the colored monitor as he worked his way through the Aces, no doubt checking for injuries.

  It’s over. The war is over.

  Shaking the thought from my head, I scoured for the switch and reminded myself there was still some stuff to do and men to check on before it was truly over. When I finally found it, the hiss of hydraulic air filled the room as the panel retracted.

  “Hot damn, Kittycat,” Chase exclaimed, looking around the room before glancing down at Frankie. “Nice shot.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured. I pressed a hand to my side when a wave of dizziness passed over me. Knowing I’d be fine after a quick patch-up and a blood donation, I pushed through it. No need to make the guys fuss any more than they’re already going to.

  “Holy hell, Kitten.” Garrett rushed to me, his hands hovering over my body when he realized just how much I had been bleeding. Cupping my cheeks, Garrett kissed me fiercely, his fingers tangling in my hair.

  “Move, you’re hogging her.” Brooks shoved Garrett out of the way with a half-assed glare. “You are the biggest shithead ever for that little stunt. You best be glad I love you.”