A Dark Place (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 5)

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  “Years ago,” he informs. “But I couldn’t sponsor you in. I had to wait until you caused enough of a ruckus to approach Mass.”

  I pick up his coin, rubbing it between my fingers. “You aren’t just peers…”

  “Whatever would make you think that, Boston?” He innocently smirks as Q chuckles. “Mass and I are quite the pair in certain circles.”

  “Their ability to control a scene is truly a sight to behold,” Quinn marvels. “Mass skirts the edge play and Dom plays the high protocol. It’s a warped opera.”

  I must not get aroused by this image.

  “You didn’t convince Mass to bend?” I mutter, amused at my stupidity to see what was sitting right before me. “I’m surprised.”

  Dom squats down in front of my face, and the back of his smooth hand strokes my cheek. “There is only one boy I bend over, Salvatore. Now Etienne. Decide. Because Iris is jumping off the cliff, head first, into Allegiance-infested waters. And she doesn’t wish to comprehend or want to react to Delarte Cristos funding Goro to dismantle Lotus.”

  I wish I didn’t know that one.

  “Cristos is really fucking pissed at Nico for selling the ships to Iris,” Quinn states, shooting glances between Dom and me. “At some point, he will unload everything he has up the Unholy ass, and you best be prepared to run for the toilet when he does.”

  “He is looking for the impossible in his son,” I sigh in the rocking chair. “Delarte desperately wanted a male heir to take over his business, and the eating machine isn’t him. He thought I could serve as a substitute, but I’ve proven to be uncontrollable. He’s running out of options. Abel has zero desire to take over.”

  Dom clasps his hands together. “Would he groom Merritt?”

  “I fear Merritt may end up on the crazy Nicky-side of the spectrum.”

  “And Diablo’s other son, Noah, with Emily?” Dom digs deep. “What about him?”

  I shake my head and stare at the ceiling.

  “You are both forgetting one person,” Quinn points out. “The one person you fear the most, Salvatore.”

  I readily answer, “Priscilla Christiane Grace Cristos Parker.”

  “Bravo!” Quinn claps and smirks. “You should watch the one you once touted as your female counterpart, son.”

  “I am very well aware of Jaid’s presence.”

  “If you think she is up in the mountains of Colorado, baking cookies, and crocheting booties, you have another thing coming. She is a product of CAE and Atticus Huit and will not become Mama Jaid.”

  “I know.”

  “She was abducted by Immortal for three months, Salvatore.”

  “I understand,” I snap at Quinn, dogging me out. “And there is nothing I can do if she decides to pull up to the table and place her chips.”

  “That was your first mistake,” Dom points out. “She isn’t starting. She is already playing.”

  “She is all up in your LSR business now,” the Priest adds with a grin. “Blame yourself.”

  “Fuck.” I cover my face with my hands. “We aren’t doing this.”

  “No, you are,” Dom says, stealing my pack of smokes and lighting one. “You need to decide what you are doing with Delarte Cristos’ biggest bomb—his daughter.”

  “You’re both fucked in the head,” I assert. “Jaid isn’t the one to worry about. Her mother is. Serene had offspring with father and son. And I am responsible in one way or another for two of her children’s deaths.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for Kaci’s cancer,” Dom mumbles in the exhalation. “And Emily can just as easily be blamed on Serene’s faulty moves. She should never have hired Cas and Amber for that botch job at the church. It was a sloppy fucking hit on Father McPhail to earn Sanctum seats.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I cannot go after Serene.”

  “Well…” Dom suggests, “You could.”

  “I won’t,” I fiercely maintain, “not only because of my relationship with Serene but Nicky. Why is Mae still with Serene?”

  “Because Dale is too busy fucking Catarina.”

  “Shit.” I pop my fingers. “Get my fucking sister away from Archer.”

  “Send Deacon,” Quinn proposes.

  I slump in the chair and grind my jaw. “Do not suggest giving Cruz to anyone else, Father. We followed your advice twice with Amber and Rowan. Catarina will not be his third.”

  “Three strikes, and he’s gay.” He laughs.

  “Stop right there, Q.”

  “Greed is a dangerous thing, Sal.”

  “It isn’t greed,” I grumble. “It is who we are.”

  “I will call Catarina,” Dom interjects as the tension thickens between the Priest and me. “And have her come visit Iris in France. She’ll jump at the chance to put an ocean of distance between her and the family. Anyone else I should call or move around?”

  “Call my dad.”

  “Cesario?”

  “No,” I say. “Call Vinny. Rat out Chelle.”

  They quickly turn to glare at me. “You are feeding Chelle to a piranha.”

  “I am keeping my blood ties informed of intel that has come across my desk.” I lock my fingers together and steeple them beneath my chin. “And then, call Carlo Torrente and tell him that Stella Raniero is fucking Durante Costa, who is looking for a side job.”

  “Jesus fuck! Sal!” Dom yells, standing up. “Are you wanting to get your mother killed?”

  “If you think for one-second that my mother isn’t playing to level up, then you don’t know Stella. She’ll fuck a shark if it means keeping a Benz in her garage and Louboutins on her feet. She is nothing more than a spendthrift.”

  “I’m surprised Cristos didn’t hit her up,” Quinn mumbles. “I still do not understand his fascination with Trudy Diaz…um, Cristos.”

  “Let me make this clear as fucking day for you,” I calmly reply. “Cristos is going for blood. He knows my feelings for Deacon and resents them. Having his hooks in Trudy means we’re locked in as some sort of fucked up family. If I go after Cristos, he will go after Deacon.”

  “Why not Iris?”

  I pucker my lips and offer a swift shake of my head. “He likes doing business with Lotus because he is no different from Stella. They are cut from the same cloth.”

  “He can’t raise his position with Trudy,” Dom says. “Why marry her?”

  I rise and stretch, cracking my neck and staring at the men. “He threatened to marry Cas Hope at one point until he realized she was insane. He married Trudy Diaz because it elevates his position with me. He knows I care about Trudy, and it hits me here.” I grab my dick with a vehement rage. “He married her to hurt me. He married her to get closer to me. He married her because her son happens to be my lover.”

  Quinn removes his glasses, rubbing his eyes, and questions, “Are you Iris’ husband or Deacon’s lover? Who are you, Lucas Salvatore?”

  “I am the motherfucking Capo,” I arrogantly remark, walking to the fridge and swiping a bottle of juice. I down the entire thing in one gulp and toss the glass bottle to the trash before grabbing a banana. “But if he thinks I am not coming after him…if he thinks I am not going to kill him…he is wrong. I owe my first wife one final thing—the death of her father.”

  “You embezzled millions from his accounts.”

  “For Lotus,” I proudly snarl, pointing the fruit at the man of the cloth determined to get under my skin. And I know why he is doing it. He isn’t against me. He is preparing me for the fight of my life. He is my coach yelling at me to get back in the ring. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  “If he dies,” Dom speculates. “Trudy will inherit the bulk of his estate and give it over to Deacon.”

  “No,” I cackle. “That was Trudy’s miscalculation. Cristos was never going to hand over his piggy bank to a Cruz. Think about that for a minute. Victor Cruz had a relationship with The Preacher. Their children—Deacon and Diamond—were to be married.”

  “Over a baby
that was never Deacon’s,” Dom reminds as my temper flares. “Your baby died…”

  “My baby was murdered by the hands of a Gennaro,” I fire off without a countdown. No red flag. No warning sign. I have lost all of my triggers and just go off at will. “Enzo Gennaro.”

  “Stop the passive-aggressive sparring you two. You are far better together than you would ever be apart. The Raniero clan did bad things to The Gennaro’s and vice versa, but it isn’t who either of you are. Dom didn’t kill Diamond.”

  “Maybe not, but Amber—who Dom hired originally for Kaci—damn sure killed my half-brother, Nick Veramonte.”

  “Cease the quid pro quo. We don’t have time for the endless rounds of tit-for-tat. I need a firm decision on Etienne,” Quinn scolds. “The Four Horsemen never got along. Leave it at that. They only united forces to keep the offspring down, even Gennaro and Raniero didn’t happily merge.”

  “And Campanelli and Raniero get along even less,” Dom contributes with a noted hurt. He sold his inheritance off to Campanelli to fund me. “If you want to steer the future, control the children.”

  “Precisely,” I say, peeling the banana. “Let my wife’s Etienne exist a little bit longer. Let’s see what she does.”

  “That’s risky,” Dom counters. “You let her go too long, and she’ll be fighting Allegiance for Europe. What’s with you and the banana? You hate the fucking things.”

  “I shut her down right now, and she’ll come after me,” I snicker, turning my nose up at the banana. “I’m working on changing.”

  “She thinks you are out of the game,” Quinn reminds. “And your investments and business are being handled by others.”

  “Let her keep believing the white lies I speak to keep her in check.”

  Dom lays his hand on my shoulder. “And if Immortal decides to come after you for the transgressions of the pink posse?”

  “Then I stand my ground with The Commission and Sanctum.”

  “And the little tidbit about you fucking their treasurer?” Quinn queries with a hint of jealousy. “Do you play it, blasé?”

  With a deviant grin, I toss my Bollés on. “Who does a guy gotta fuck to get the upper hand around here?”

  Father quips, “Seems you’ve got the bankroll tucked safely in your ass cheeks.”

  Heading for the door, I drop my sunglasses and wink at Quinn. “That’s not all I got in my ass, Padre.” I slip the fruit in my mouth, taking a suggestive bite. “And it’s so fucking good.”

  7

  Pluck the Catgut

  The Master

  Hot water pours over my body, sending an icy shiver through my bones. Shaking the droplets from my curls, I close my eyes and tilt my head back before taking a mouthful of water and spitting it in a stream into the air.

  Massimiliano’s house belongs on one of those restoration shows. He spared no expense from the enormous open shower with marble and gold accents to the hand-carved pillars holding the glass on two sides. And this is just the bathroom.

  The kitchen is everything a chef would dream. The outside kitchen with the pizza oven sits in front of the pool surrounded by olive and fruit trees, and it’s damn idyllic heaven. I don’t want to go to Norway.

  “There are times when I wish I had your photographic memory,” he mutters from the doorway. “Because I would replay this several times a day.”

  I smirk. “You are a voyeur, Mr. Cruz.”

  “Only for you.” He steps inside the bathroom and closes the door behind him. “How were your six hours alone?”

  “Meh,” I say, lathering soap all over my skin. “Yours?”

  “I fucked your wife,” he casually remarks.

  I grin. “And how was that?”

  “She’s distant,” he remarks, sitting on the tiled counter. “I don’t like it. She’s having lunch with Reza and Dragon in town.”

  Oh. Fuck.

  If she runs into Dom, she will panic. I am quickly running out of favors from up above, but please don’t let her know he is here. He wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow, but being my rock in the storm, he caught the first flight he could.

  I finish rinsing, cut off the water, and grab a towel. I wrap it around my waist and ask, “What’s up?”

  “She’s acting almost depressed, Sal…”

  He’s not alone. I’ve noticed it too. The first few days were good, but her mental health has taken a steady decline. “Hormones?”

  “Easy excuse,” he says, holding out his hand. “I didn’t initiate by the way.”

  “I wouldn’t care if you did, bro.”

  “What happens when you start caring?”

  I move to stand between his knees. Fucker is wearing my last clean pair of sweatpants. “Repeat after me. I will not, at any point, come after you for being with Iris.”

  His finger chases a droplet of water down my chest. “You should dry your hair.”

  “You should do it for me,” I counter as his fingers lap over the towel’s edge. “Did you enjoy it?”

  With a natural smile, he lifts his brows. “It’s not you. I love her to death, but she’ll never be you.”

  “Dom is here.”

  “I know,” he says, leaning forward to kiss my cross. “He called when you left. You need to shut Etienne down, bro.”

  His subtle and suggestive warning garners my laugh. “You can’t be doing this right now.”

  “They’re going shopping.”

  “Dragon? Shopping? Is Morpheus here?”

  A snarl lifts his cheeks. “If he were here, Iris wouldn’t be shopping. He’s lost men in her war, but Reza won’t read her the riot act.”

  “Will Dragon?”

  “I doubt it. I’m not worried,” he says, pulling the towel off. “You shouldn’t be worried either.”

  “There are a million and one things that could go wrong in our European adventure.”

  His hand skirts over my belly and his fingers latch around my cock, semi-erect from the moment I heard his voice. That was enough. “You have a job to do. I have everything else.”

  “It’s so much to ask of you,” I complain, not understanding his generosity. “Iris is…”

  “I know better than anyone what Iris is. I’ve lived it and breathed it. I got her. All you got to do is take care of yourself. Get in. Get out. Make your point loud and clear that Sal Raniero and his Associates will not be messed with,” he calmly instructs. “You keep your name in lights and let the rest of us stand in your sunshine. Iris and the baby have grace.”

  “And Skeeter,” I confide. “And you have it with Sanctum.”

  “Who else did Oscar Sato grant grace to?”

  “Jaid and her unborn baby,” I admit.

  He nods and says, “And you think that is a good idea? You just sent a memo to everyone in The Commish that Cristos’ daughter is pregnant and should be protected. That’s like putting a hit on her head, which was risky with Iris, but she is here. We can watch after her.”

  “Like we’re doing now?” I sarcastically question. “While she is off shopping?”

  “She has the Veramonte security team watching her ass like a hawk, and she’ll be fine. Who does Jaid have?”

  I run my finger along the edge of the counter. Blinking up, I mutter, “Nicky.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Raniero!” His anger is valid. “Did you need to send the flesh carver?”

  “I did not do it,” I hastily excuse. And I did not do it. “Blame Dom. Or better yet, blame your fucking brother, Diablo, for spawning a child with Kaci Hope.”

  With a snarl, he quizzes, “Is Merritt misbehaving?”

  “He’s a Cruz-Hope crossbreed, what do you think?”

  “Everyone within a hundred miles should hide their teenage daughters.”

  I shake my head. “He only tolerates Jaid since Henney left. Splitting Merritt and Raine apart was probably the worst decision we ever fucking made.”

  “We didn’t split them apart,” he contests. “Dom wanted his daughter, Ra
ine. My fucking brother didn’t want Merritt, so Jaid took him. The alternative was sending him to Grandma Trudy, who is off screwing Cristos’ on a yacht. Or Uncle Saint, who is off fucking a madman.”

  “You said that so kindly.”

  “Thank you, I try,” I smart off, and he smirks as I wave my hands in the air. “Where is Henney? She flew the coop again?”

  “The rare unicorn has not been spotted in several weeks.”

  “Fuck.” His nostrils flare as he stares at me. “I’m going to end up getting stuck with a mini-me.”

  I shrug. “It could be worse. You could be stuck with a mini-me.”

  “That wouldn’t be a curse,” he assures with a twinkle in his eye. “That would be a gift from the heavens of hell.”

  I pause to think about that. “I like that image.”

  “You’re welcome, Raniero.”

  “I’m fucking your ass, Nero!”

  With my teeth biting into his brown leather belt, I white-knuckle the crimson goose down comforter in my fingers. I am going to need to replace this thing. Mass didn’t sign-up for his overpriced feathers to be soaked in Raniero-Cruz cum spots.

  I moan as the sweat pours off my skin in sheets. We’re slick, he and I, caught in the moment we transport to another place and time. To a place where I am not getting on a jet tomorrow for Norway. To a time where we aren’t on another’s timeline.

  The trajectory of his arrow burns deep in my ass. He never fails to hit the target, bringing the ground back beneath my feet. The reality of our daily existence is so far removed from where I ever planned on being. I can say I didn’t want this mafia until the cows come home, but I was built to withstand the blows of torment this life would bring.

  It’s in my genetic pool.

  Doesn’t mean I have to like it.

  “Can you behave for a half fucking second?” Cruz’s low gravelly voice rumbles over my backside as I wave my fingers in agreement. He undoes the belt, freeing my mouth. It’s a new thing.

  Before leaving the States, we went to see Lani for a physical and went to the dentist. My grinding problem is hindering my jaw and teeth. I’m not sure what that means, but now I’ve got this fucking thing I’m supposed to be wearing half the day.