Bitter Queen: A Dark Mafia Romance (Advantage Play Book 4)

by Kelsie Rae

  Nostrils flaring, I point out the obvious. “If we mention Q, he’ll know we have her and might come after her.”

  “We don’t know that,” Dex mutters under his breath.

  “Then why the hell would he be looking for her if he didn’t want her?” I seethe. “After the hell she’s been through, she deserves to stay hidden, and we owe that to her.”

  Trying to placate me, he raises his hands in surrender. “If Dominic’s contact is Jack’s boss, then he already knows Q doesn’t work for the FBI, which means he won’t believe that we put her in the ground like Kingston had told every single person at the tournament.”

  “We need to know why she’s so important,” Jack interjects.

  “Agreed,” Dex announces, shifting his gaze back to mine.

  Gritting my teeth, I stare darkly back at him. “I’ve already spoken with her. She doesn’t have any answers.”

  Kingston leans forward and sets the cards aside, making sure he has my full attention. “Maybe I can help jog her memory.”

  “I already told you that’s a terrible idea.”

  “And I already told you that she doesn’t have a choice. And neither do you.”

  Growing frustrated, I shake my head back and forth, but I’m careful to choose my words wisely. “She’s scared, King. She doesn’t respond well to men in general. There’s no way she’ll be able to answer your questions.”

  “She seems to respond fine to you,” Kingston points out.

  With a glare, I mirror Kingston’s position, resting my elbows on the table while reminding myself of my own self-preservation. You don’t question the boss. I know this. But he doesn’t get it. “It’s a bad idea.”

  “And I don’t give a shit. I need to talk to her, D, and that’s an order. I need to find out if she remembers anything out of the ordinary from her disappearance. I need to find out who she really is because her story isn’t adding up, and if she wants my protection, she needs to be honest with me.”

  I want to argue. I want to drag her away to the nearest cave where we can both get lost, and this entire ordeal will be a distant memory. There’s just one problem. Q’s screwed-up past isn’t just affecting her. It’s affecting the Romano’s entire operation, and I have to remember the family.

  Family first. Always.

  But what about Q? my conscience whispers inside of me. Because she’s starting to feel like someone other than a random girl off the street that I’ve been tasked with watching over. She feels like more.

  Every muscle in my body is coiled for a fight, ready to spring into action at any second, daring Kingston to push me over the edge. But he’s smarter than that.

  Dex, however….

  “She’s stronger than you think,” he interrupts. “We need to get to the bottom of this.”

  “Then I stay when you interrogate her,” I growl, staring Kingston down from across the table. “And you promise not to touch a hair on her head. Understand?”

  The air pulses with that same violent testosterone as Kingston debates whether or not he should let me be there when he questions her.

  After another moment of consideration, Kingston answers coolly, “Fine. You can sit in on the interrogation, but if you intervene before she has a chance to explain herself, there will be consequences. We clear?”

  My jaw tightens before I spit, “Yeah. We’re clear.”

  “Good. Next order of business. Jack, your face is plastered all over the news. Thankfully, they haven’t found any connection between you and the Romano family, but you’re officially on house arrest until we figure this shit out. I don’t need the Feds knocking on our door with an arrest warrant for you. Understand?”

  He nods. “Yeah. If I can help while still staying under the radar, I’m your man.”

  “Good. It seems that Jack’s face being headline news is rocking the boat a bit with Burlone’s previous associates, so we’ll need to smooth things over. Dex, this is where you come in. I don’t care what you have to say; I don’t care what you have to do; you will not let any of this messed-up situation blow back on us.”

  “I won’t.” His voice rings with determination as my gaze drops down to his bandaged hand.

  Kingston nods his approval. “We won’t be reaching out to Dominic’s contact until I speak with Q, but that doesn’t mean I’m not keeping it as an option if we need to move forward with it. Stefan, do you know if Lou has located Sei yet?”

  My brows furrow as I register his comment, convinced I’ve heard him wrong.

  Located Sei? Why would we need to locate him if he’s in prison?

  Blood boiling, I shout, “What?”

  Again, all eyes turn to me as my chest heaves with rage.

  With a sigh, Dex explains, “Dominic informed us that Sei wasn’t captured during the raid.”

  “But I thought you—”

  “Yeah, I know,” he replies, growing impatient. “I zip-tied him to a fucking chair and shot enough drugs into his veins to take down a gorilla. I have no idea how he escaped, but he did.”

  I shake my head, seconds from losing my shit in front of everyone as I order, “We need to find him.”

  “He’s not our greatest concern right now,” Kingston counters.

  “I don’t give a shit what our greatest concern is.” My chest heaves. “He was obsessed with her, King. You have no idea the shit he put her through.”

  “I can imagine,” Dex interjects. “And if anyone has a beef with the bastard, it’s me. We’ll take care of him too. I promise. But first, we need answers.”

  Kingston grits his teeth before finishing, “And we need them now.”

  Shoving myself away from the table, I pace the kitchen floor while wrestling with my fury.

  “D,” Kingston orders. “Get Q and meet me in my office. Everyone else is dismissed.”

  The sound of chairs scraping against the floor echoes around the room before everyone shuffles away, leaving me alone. I breathe deep, searching for a sense of calm, but anytime I close my eyes, I see the scars dancing along Q’s skin. The bruises marring her cheek and back. The tears dripping off her chin because it’s too much of an effort to wipe them away.

  And it’s all because of Sei. He’s still out there. The bastard that hurt her is walking around. Free. The last of my restraint snaps. I pick up a glass from the table and chuck it against the wall. It shatters on contact but does nothing to stop me from unraveling.

  I stare at the shattered glass for a few more seconds, then steady my breathing and head toward the stairs in search of Q. She deserves to know that her monster is still out there. I just don’t know how to break it to her.

  And King’s right. If I’m going to be able to protect her, then we need answers.

  My legs feel like lead as I trudge down the hallway toward her room. Tapping my knuckles against the cracked door, I wait for her to answer with my chin to my chest. A few seconds later, her trimmed fingernails peek through the small gap of the door before pulling it the rest of the way open. Her hair hangs wet around her shoulders, and she’s in a fresh set of clothes.

  “Hi,” she greets me with pink cheeks as her gaze drops to the ground. Tight, dark jeans cling to her thighs while a sexy as hell white crop top lets her belly button play peek-a-boo. When she catches me staring, she tugs at the hem before I grab her wrist and stop her.

  “You look gorgeous,” I tell her.

  “You think?”

  “Yeah.” A soft smile etches itself onto my face as she tucks her hair behind her ear and avoids holding my gaze. It’s almost enough to erase my conversation with King. But not quite.

  “Where’d you get it?” I prod.

  “Ace. She uh, she got some more clothes for me.”

  “That was nice of her.”

  Tucking her hands into her back pockets, she rocks back on her heels. “Yeah. It’s not something I’d normally pick out, but….”

  “Do you like them?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.

  That s
ame blush spreads down her neck before she peeks up at me and smiles. “Yeah. I think I do.”

  “Then that’s all that matters.” Lifting her chin with the pad of my finger, I add, “King wants to talk with you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we gotta figure out who’s looking for you, Q.”

  Like a bucket of ice water has been dropped over her head, she gasps and rushes out, “No one’s looking for me.”

  “And we believe otherwise.” Keeping my tone gentle, I prod, “Are you hiding something, Blue?”

  She shakes her head back and forth, avoiding my gaze again. Only this time, I’m afraid it’s for an entirely different reason.

  “Tell me,” I push.

  “There’s nothing to tell. I don’t know who’s looking for me. I’m no one special, D.”

  “And I beg to differ. Come on. Let’s get this over with.” With my hand against her lower back, I lead her to Kingston’s office. My steps are slow as I search for a way out of this. But there isn’t one.

  King’s right. She’s hiding something. I just wish she trusted me enough to tell me what it is without Kingston getting involved.

  The door to his office is open as we step inside. With his fingers steepled and his elbows resting against the desk, he taps his lips and inspects Q.

  Like a raisin, she shrivels under his scrutiny and leans into my side.

  Kingston quirks his brow but doesn’t comment on it as he orders, “Take a seat, Q.”

  Shaking, she sits down on the edge of the cushioned chair across from Kingston then folds her hands in her lap.

  “Look at me, Q,” Kingston demands, coolly.

  Her trimmed fingernails dig into her palms, and her teeth bite into the inside of her cheek before she forces herself to look at him.

  “It’s time we have a little chat.”

  20

  Q

  I stay silent but hold his gaze and swallow back the bile that creeps up my throat. I am so freaking screwed.

  “Who are you?” he demands.

  “Queena.”

  “And what’s your last name?”

  “K-Kowalski.”

  Satisfied, Kingston urges, “Do you have any family?”

  I shake my head.

  “No mother? No father?” Kingston prods.

  Again, I shake my head.

  “So you just miraculously appeared as a grown adult?” he challenges with a dry laugh. “Who raised you? Are they alive? If not, then how did they die? Do you have any grandparents? Siblings? I’m going to need details if we’re going to figure this out.”

  My knee bounces up and down as I offer him a noncommittal shrug and deflect, “There’s nothing to figure out.”

  “And I disagree. Listen, I want to make this as painless as possible for you.”

  A low growl escapes D from beside me, cutting Kingston off. “Careful, Boss.”

  Kingston’s intensity snaps to D before he leans back in his chair and raises his brows, practically begging D to confront him. “Something you’d like to add, Diece?”

  “She’s scared.”

  “She should be scared. She should be fucking petrified. Half the mob thinks she’s a Fed and is hunting for her head right now. Others are sniffing around, asking questions about her, and yet the one family offering to protect her seems to be the last to know the truth.” Turning to me, Kingston adds, “You need to start talking, Q. You don’t have a choice anymore.”

  “I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t do this.”

  Kingston’s expression stays calm and indifferent. But the truth stays the same. He’s my judge, jury, and executioner.

  “Like I said, you have no choice.”

  Desperate, I turn to Diece and reach for him. “D—”

  “Do you want him to lose a hand right now, Q?” Kingston interjects, that same cool indifference oozing from every pore.

  “What? No, I—”

  “Because if you walk out that door, then that’s exactly what’s going to happen to him. Now, let me ask you one more time. Who. Are. Your. Parents?” He emphasizes each word by slamming his hand against his desk.

  I flinch every single time before steadying my breathing and peeking up at a very pissed off D who’s practically vibrating with anger. He looks like he’s two seconds from snapping Kingston’s neck, and I can’t let that happen. Not when he’ll lose a freaking hand. Is Kingston serious? Would he really do that? He’s a mob boss. Of course, he’d do that. I can’t breathe.

  Is it hot in here? How do I get out of this?

  “Answer the question,” Kingston growls.

  “Julia and Alek,” I choke out. “Both died in a car accident a few years ago. No grandparents or siblings.”

  He nods his approval. “Do you have any misdemeanors? Felonies? Any run-ins with the law?”

  “No,” I choke out again. My throat feels like it’s closing up as I try to focus on the scary-as-shit guy in front of me.

  “What did you do for a living? Where did you work?”

  “It doesn’t matter—”

  “Answer the question.”

  My knee could rival a jackhammer as my heart practically beats out of my chest. But he doesn’t understand. I can’t answer this question. I can’t.

  Cocking his head to the side, Kingston inspects me closer before realizing how close he is to the truth. I can see it in his eyes.

  “Now, Q,” he orders.

  “I was a”—I release a shaky breath—“a nanny.”

  “A nanny?”

  “Y-yes,” I stutter.

  “And why didn’t they file a missing person’s report when you didn’t show up to work the next day?”

  “I don’t know,” I lie.

  “Bullshit, Q. Answer the question.”

  My lower lip quivers before I pull them into a thin line. He doesn’t understand. He’ll never understand. No one will.

  “Now,” he prods.

  The tears run down my cheeks as I turn to Diece and find him staring at me with a restrained curiosity that hits like a wrecking ball. He deserves the truth. They both do. But I can’t tell him—either of them. If I do, he’ll find out. He’ll find out, and he’ll kill me. I know it.

  My face contorts with pain as I swallow back a sob and choke out, “Six.”

  Diece’s eyes widen with understanding before he rubs his hand over his face. “Shit,” he curses under his breath. Standing to his full height, he towers over Kingston and announces, “That’s enough for today.”

  “Bullshit, D. She’s hiding something.”

  “She’s done––”

  “And I don’t give a shit.” That same calm and collected tone filters through the air. “She does not leave this room until she answers my questions.”

  “No. You’ve pushed her too far,” D argues, pulling me into his arms. Vibrating with anxiety, I cling to him like a lifeline. Like he’s my savior. My everything.

  “And I will keep pushing until she starts talking,” Kingston replies. “Now, I order you to sit your ass back in that seat, or I’ll make what happened to Dex look like child’s play. This is not a game, D. And she is not a child. Stop coddling her.”

  “You don’t understand––”

  “I understand perfectly,” Kingston counters. His tone softens as he stares back at his best friend. “She’s not a job anymore. She means more to you. I get it, okay? But if you want to keep her safe, then you need to convince her that we aren’t the enemy. We’re her only fucking hope.” Then he turns to me and pins me with his stare. “Who are you trying to protect, Q? What aren’t you telling us?”

  “What did you do to Dex?” I breathe.

  “I cut off his pinkie for disobeying a direct order. Now, if you want Diece to keep his hand, I suggest you stop putting him in a position where he needs to choose between his family and you. The ball’s in your court.”

  “What kind of sick monster would do that to his best friend?” I spit.

  “One that p
uts family first.” Kingston leans back in his seat as if we’re talking about the weather instead of dismemberment and waits to see my next move. Because he’s right. The choice is mine. And I can’t let him hurt Diece.

  “Let’s go, Q,” he urges.

  “No.” I squeeze my eyes shut and dig my heels into the ground. “I’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything.”

  With his dark flinty gaze on mine, Kingston murmurs, “Good. Sit back down.”

  Wiggling from Diece’s grasp, I fall back into my chair and pull my knees to my chest, then rest my chin on my knees.

  Satisfied, Kingston turns his attention back to his right-hand man. “Sit down, D. I just want to talk.”

  Jaw tight and nostrils flaring, Diece sits beside me.

  Then we both wait for Kingston to continue.

  “Why didn’t the family file a missing person’s report?” Kingston repeats.

  “Because they knew who’d taken me.”

  “How did they know?”

  My throat feels like the Sahara Desert, but I ignore the discomfort and mumble, “Because they were working with Burlone.”

  Unconvinced, Kingston clarifies, “You were nannying for a family in the mafia?”

  With a dry laugh, I shake my head back and forth. “I didn’t know I was doing that. I thought they were just…a regular family. They don’t even have an Italian last name or anything. How was I supposed to know what I was stepping into when I accepted the job?” My voice cracks as I fight back the urge to run away and cry. It’s too real. Too fresh. Too close to the threat that could kill me if the truth ever slipped free.

  But the irony is that I’m not even sure what the truth is. Just that I need to protect it at all costs if I want to keep my life.

  A heavy silence follows as the two men in the room let my comment marinate. Then Kingston continues. “What was the name?”

  “J-Johnson,” I reveal.

  Kingston’s eyes flash with recognition before returning to indifference. If I’d blinked, I would’ve missed it. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why would Johnson be okay with your disappearance?”

  “He wasn’t okay with it. He liked me. Probably too much, but he was always respectful.”