by Ruby Vincent
“Do we believe he didn’t know what Corbin was up to?” Sinjin asked. “Pais put a lot of effort into building up the auction. Would he have washed his hands and let Corbin disappear his work into a grotty basement?”
“I want to say yes,” Mercer said carefully. “Seventy percent for the escorts made the auction the least profitable of the businesses. If he was taking on too much, I can see him passing it on to Corbin without a fight. As for if he knew, I told you I have personal experience with the guy. We crossed paths at more than a few parties. Talked. Traded stories. Thiago’s disgust when he spoke about pimps turning out girls as young as sixteen was real. I don’t think he knew.”
“Or he did know and he walked himself and his escorts away because he wanted no part in it,” Sinjin shot back. “Bunny said it’s a different crowd catering to the deceased Corbin’s new clients. It’s just as possible he was disapproving, but happy to look the other way.”
“It’s possible,” Mercer agreed.
“The guy is no Boy Scout, or he wouldn’t be willing to kill his own brothers to elbow into Angelo’s spot. What else do I need to know?”
“Because he is generous with his escorts, he takes it as a personal affront when they let him down,” Mercer said. “Coming up short. Taking jobs on the side. Trying to get out of the life. If they’re caught, Thiago makes examples of them.”
I caught Sinjin’s frown out of the corner of my eye. “Is he the guy who—?”
“Yes.”
No more needed to be said. I said it anyway. “He disfigures people who crosses him. Slices up their faces and dumps them on the docks. If they stumble their way to a hospital in time, they’re one of the lucky ones.”
Sinjin whistled. “I could see a cold bastard like that making a play for number one. Lorenzo Bianchi, I’ve met. We’ve stood across the craps table once or twice. Cagey player. Doesn’t bet too much. Doesn’t lose too much. Doesn’t give much away. He’s a man who knows when to walk away from the table. I’ve always hated guys like that.”
“He’s the Kings’ Cash,” Mercer said.
“That explains it.”
“He’s the money guy,” I corrected. “He handles what comes in and what goes out. Enzo structured the business to operate through so many shell companies and offshore accounts, I can’t track all the money down. If a new player enters the scene looking to make a deal with the Kings, Enzo negotiates the terms.
“They’re all strong contenders, but it will be Enzo,” I said. “Sixty-nine percent probability.”
“Why?”
I turned into the hospital parking lot. “Because the others have the clout, fear, power, and respect. Enzo has the money. He’ll pay off their right hands to sink a knife in their backs while they’re in the middle of getting dressed for Angelo’s funeral.”
“I assume you’re thinking of a plan to take each one of them out as we speak,” Sinjin said.
“I am.”
“Is that where we’re going with this?” Mercer asked. “Killing all four before one assumes the mantle? I can easily get to Thiago.”
We climbed out, falling in step and cutting a path through sneaking glances.
“No,” I said. “Too many variables unaccounted for. Corbin ran loose through our fucking house for hours, calling whoever he wanted. We don’t know who else he talked to or what he told them about us. You could set a trap for Thiago that turns into a trap for you.”
“So we lie low?”
“We change the plan,” I said. “Wait until we know as much, and then more than they do. I will say we’re not letting an opportunity pass. I wouldn’t have suggested killing the four. It won’t do any good. The Kings have dozens of guys ready and willing to take their place.”
“There are three steps to taking down an empire,” Sinjin said. “Drain their funds, shake their followers’ loyalty, and cut off the head. We’ve cut off the head and kicked off a surge of infighting that will hold their attention. On to the next.”
We strode past the nurses’ desk, ignoring the woman who called out to us.
“But, first.” Sinjin jabbed the button for the elevator. “My bunny.”
His bunny was not alone.
Gianna Soren Cross. Born August 15th. Works the front desk of Harmony Hotel. Grew up in Waterford. Currently lives in Rockchapel with boyfriend, Raul Perez.
Redgrave’s best, and only, friend strode around the room cleaning up and setting out a change of clothes. Comparing the tight, thigh-length leopard dress she wore with the skin-clinging cutout dress she laid on the bed, I assumed she was dressing Redgrave in her own clothes.
Adeline Ophelia Redgrave. Daughter of Oscar Redgrave. Born January 5th. Twenty-three years old. Hospitality management major. On-the-job-trained chef. Younger than the average sous chef. Dedicated. Determined. Single-minded. Likely history of abuse. Two known weaknesses: Gianna Cross and Oscar Redgrave.
“Hi, boys.” She gave us a wan smile. “I’m so glad to see you. You brought me here without a phone. I’ve been worried sick—”
Pulling off her sheet, I drew Adeline’s hospital gown over her waist.
“That’s one way to say hi.”
I peeled away the bandage, examining the cut and neat row of stitches above her hip. Her doctor did good work. This would heal with the faintest scar.
But then, it wasn’t very deep.
I met those big, blinking brown eyes. “Tell me again how this happened.”
“What? What do you mean?”
I waited her out.
“Angelo was hiding in the basement,” she said. “He pulled a knife. We struggled and he slashed me. I got it away from him and...”
“You struggled?”
“More like he threw me against the cage and jumped on me.” She shuddered. “It was horrible. He was saying these awful things, and all I could think was the room was soundproof. I could scream and you wouldn’t come.”
I hovered over the line of her cut, calculating the slash angle. This woman jumped off a two-story balcony into a bramble bush. She ran away torn up and bleeding from a band of armed thugs shooting to kill, and she didn’t cry.
Not when she ran to me. Not in the drive to the pizzeria. Not when I treated her wounds—though her eyes shone with unshed tears.
She didn’t cry, but the day before she burst into tears over a single cut that will barely scar. In a room that showed no sign of struggle. Next to a man who died with shock in his unseeing eyes.
Adeline Redgrave.
Liar.
“Forced to kill him in that way. Up close and personal,” I said. “Must have been hard for you.”
“It was,” she whispered. “I didn’t think, I reacted. I think both of us couldn’t believe what I’d done.” Redgrave took a deep breath. “But I had no choice. Angelo Castillo was a beast. He broke in and ordered his men to assault me. He was going to kill all of you. It was kill or be killed. I did what I had to do.”
She slid her fingers through mine, smiling. “It’s uncharacteristically nice of you to worry about me, Cash. I’ll be okay.”
I narrowed on our linked hands. The frequency of her touching had increased with no reason she should have started in the first place.
The first touch was odd. The second time she sought comfort. The other times were unexplainable.
She settled into the blankets, still smiling—content to hang on to me.
Redgrave is clearly convinced I have feelings for her that I’m hiding under twelve layers of brooding ice man. All she has to do is keep drilling until she finds what she’s gotten out of Saint, Brutal, and soon, Mercer.
How she hooked all three of them was as confusing as her constant desire to touch me. Her beauty couldn’t be denied. Neither could her strength. But introducing a wild card into a carefully crafted play is suicide that nearly delivered exactly what she promised. Our deaths.
I would’ve died to save you, I thought, and I have no fucking idea why.
I let go of her h
and—suddenly annoyed.
“No.”
Sinjin and the best friend were facing off.
“Yes,” she said. “Adeline is staying with me. It’s just for a few days.”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s for a few minutes. Bunny’s coming with us.”
“Does Bunny get a say in this?” Adeline spoke up.
“Let me remind you four that I know who you really are. You’re dangerous gangbanging killers and it finally caught up to you.”
Our fingers twitched for our weapons out of reflex.
“A reason to celebrate,” the best friend went on. “If it wasn’t for Adeline getting caught in the crosshairs. Big, scary men are hunting you down and you no longer have a place to live. While you sort that out, Adeline will be with me where she’s safe.”
“No.”
“We’re not asking your permission,” she cried, hands flying to her hips.
“You won’t ask for forgiveness either.”
“Okay, guys. Let’s take it down,” Adeline cut in. “Gianna is right. A few days with me out of the way so you can assess the damage is a good move. We don’t know if your identities are still protected, or how much Angelo told the Kings. We also don’t know how much time we’ve got until one of them figures out Angelo and the friends he brought with him are all dead.”
I nodded along unthinkingly. Like her cooking, lack of brains was not one of her faults.
“You’re not in our way,” Mercer said. “You’re one of us.”
“She’s injured.” I backed Sinjin down. “The cut’s not bad, but it needs time to heal.”
“She can do that in Leighbridge.”
“We can’t play nursemaid right now. Cross can.”
She started at being addressed directly. “What he said. I’ll look after my best friend while you guys take care of whatever mess you got her into. Get back to us when it’s settled.”
“End of the week,” I broke into whatever Sinjin was going to say in response. “We’ll have the new place by then. I’ll make it happen.”
“Where is it?” Adeline asked. “Are we still in North Quay?”
Mercer stretched out next to her, throwing his arm around her shoulder. “Nah. Cash hooked us up with a place in Waterford. It comes with a sandwich shop for you. You can convert it into your own little eatery.”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “You’re doing that for me? Thank you, Cash.”
“No.” My annoyance ratcheted up tenfold. “It’s not for you. Cut the shit, Mercer. We don’t have money for that.”
“When we have the money, it’s all yours,” Mercer told her. “Least we can do for getting you into our mess.”
Redgrave kissed his cheek, beaming from ear to ear. Sinjin and I brought Mercer Santos on for the precise reason he could put a smile like that on anyone’s face. If he had gone to the meeting with Angelo, they’d have come out best friends and drove straight to a parlor for matching “thug buddies” tattoos.
I knew all of this. Brought up his contributions to Sinjin when the mercurial bastard threatened to kill him, and yet right then I was wondering why the fuck we kept him around.
“Do you want that first-floor sandwich shop?” I asked. “Or for us to get you at the end of the week? I seem to recall moving a car filled with your suitcases.”
Redgrave’s smile disappeared. “Things are different now.”
“How?”
Sinjin was going to let her go. Back to her shitty apartment and her thirty-hour-a-week job running around a steamy kitchen. She was free and clear to return to her old life less than twenty-four hours ago. Why should she choose the men who kidnapped her and kicked off the events that made her a target of the most dangerous gang in the city?
Probability of an average twenty-three-year-old woman making the same choice?
Zero.
“I wasn’t leaving because I wanted to.” She pulled Mercer closer. I wonder if she noticed. “I thought I was just the cook and maid to you four. To be gotten rid of when I’m no longer useful. Now I know that you guys...”
Sinjin landed on the bed and dropped his head on her lap. “Now she knows she belongs to us. Bunny will spend the rest of our lives feeding me and catering to my sexual needs. I should’ve gotten on board with this girlfriend thing years ago.”
Redgrave rolled her eyes, but she didn’t correct his use of the word girlfriend.
“I see.” I made for the door. “If she’s leaving with Cross, we’re going. We have something in our basement to take care of.”
Sinjin got a kiss off her. He leaned in to whisper something that made her duck her head and say “I love you” back. Brutal was next to kiss her, though he saved the whispered message. Finally Mercer kissed her knuckles and promised we’d have everything arranged for her soon.
I let the guys file past me, jaw tightening as I spared a last look through the closing door. For the man who sees everything, I somehow missed this girl becoming so entrenched in our lives they—we—would do anything to protect her.
Probability we’d regret her not getting into that car and making it out of the parking lot?
One hundred percent.
Chapter Two
Adeline
“Raul didn’t kick up a fuss at being thrown out?”
Gianna shoved open her door and helped me over the threshold. I was perfectly capable of walking on my own, but I let her fuss if it made her feel better.
“Course he did,” she said, kicking aside strewn clothes. “I told him you’d make that five-alarm chili, collard greens, and buttermilk biscuits and leave leftovers for him. He packed pretty sharpish after that.”
“Ahh. The truth comes out.” Gianna eased me onto her pillows. “You wanted me to stay to get your hands on my cooking again.”
She laughed. “Those boys have been keeping it all to themselves for the last month and a half. A girl does what she has to do.”
I relaxed on her bed—the only place I spent as much time in as my own. If Raul hadn’t moved in, this room would take top spot.
A huge, old-timey armoire sat next to the matching white vanity with gold around the mirror. There was a classic diva vibe about the whole place. How she got her hands on an upholstered platform bed with a headboard shaped like a crown, I’d never know, but it was clearly the only bed for her.
Gianna Cross seemed a chaotic personality from the unsure life of a budding actress, the flings, and Raul. But the untidiness in the room was laid at the boyfriend’s feet. The clothes on the floor were his. The person who didn’t return items to their labeled spots was Raul. The crumbs ground into the carpet. The bongs scattered all over the apartment. The dishes that didn’t make it into the dishwasher.
Raul.
Raul.
Raul.
He granted the chaos people expected of her. Which left Gianna free to be... unexpected.
Kind of like the crappy apartment and the demanding chef job for the struggling hospitality major. No one looked further.
Still, I loved this picture she painted for herself because, at its heart, it was real.
This room was cozy in a way the spaces I lived in never were. Covering each wall were dozens of pictures of our childhood. Little Adeline and Gianna on their first day of middle school school. The day my father took us both to the animal sanctuary. Us cheesing over matching acceptances to Cinco University.
I had the same photos to display. They filled me with the same happy nostalgia.
For a moment.
Then I’d think of the woman missing from every single shot. I’d remember I had to be ripped from the arms of my own mother to stop her callous, relentless destruction of my soul. I’d remember why the backdrop of a nice, charming neighborhood morphed into a run-down apartment with cracks in the plaster.
I’d remember, and close the photos in their box.
Gianna drew my head onto her shoulder. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I said. “Just thinking about the past.”
“Never a good idea.”
“You’re right. I should be thinking about the promise I made to Angelo Castillo to wipe his gang from the face of the earth. It’d be wrong to betray a vow to a dying man.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I picked my head up, reaching for the laptop on the bedside table, and ignoring the twinge in my side. “Who is next in line now that Angelo is gone?”
“We know the four obvious choices based on their command structure.” Just like that, we were all business.
Gianna opened the file labeled “Speech Exercises” and our amassed information on the Kings flooded the screen.
“Jace Parker. Xavier Jameson. Thiago Pais. Lorenzo ‘Enzo’ Bianchi,” she read. “Though we can’t exclude the dark horse that kills all of them and takes top spot.”
I hummed, squinting at the screen. “True. Even so, my money is on the money. Lorenzo Bianchi.”
“You’ve had more contact with the Kings recently. Learn anything that should be in the file?”
“I have. The Castian Hotel and the vile setup Corbin and those monsters utilized.”
She held my hand. “What about it?”
“I highly doubt a fool like that thought it up on his own. He wasn’t smart enough to write the auction guest book in code. Corbin wrote ‘website’ plain next to a dozen names. He had the book in an unlocked drawer in a room we broke into in twenty minutes. Let me not even get into all the stuff he blabbed to Candy.
“For years no one knew what was truly going on in that hotel. Someone as lax with security as Corbin couldn’t have been the mastermind behind it, even if he was the manager. They’d have been found out in a week.”
“So, the others did know.”
I shook my head. “Angelo wasn’t in a position to lie to me when he said he had nothing to do with the child sex ring. Corbin stole the idea, and then he put it to his own use.”
“Stole from who?”
“Do you know the Imperial Majesty Hotel?”
She whistled. “Yeah. Swanky hotel in Leighbridge. One night there is my rent for two months.”
“Bryan Acker took me there on our ill-fated date. I got a strange feeling when I was walking through that place, G,” I said. “The way the cameras were positioned. The placement of the plants. Employees hanging back instead of running up to greet you. It’s the perfect place for an affair.”