by Kenya Wright
Shalimar looked down at the new image. “Piece of shit.”
Her step father stood by the mail box, tearing through an envelope. Shalimar turned to the next photo. It showed him stuffing money in his back pocket. The next picture displayed her envelope crumbled and laying at the edge of the sewer near the mail box.
“Has Ella ever written you back?” I asked.
“No.” A tear left her eye. She wiped it away. “I thought maybe. . .she just was embarrassed by me or. . .”
I took the silk handkerchief from my inner jacket pocket and handed it to her. “You’re in desperate need of a friend.”
She didn’t take the handkerchief from me. “Jean-Pierre, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I don’t want to be involved. Especially if it has anything to do with Celina. I’m loyal to her. She’s been there for me when no one else was—”
“You’ll find that my level of loyalty cannot be matched by anyone. Right now, I want to present you with the facts, and then give you time to consider a new friendship with me.”
She turned away from me. “I can’t do that to Celina.”
I flipped to the next picture. “Your step father would visit Ella at night—”
“Fuck you.” She jumped up and paced. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you saying this shit to me?”
I pointed to the picture. “Look at it.”
She fisted her hands at her side. “Why?! I don’t want to see him do anything to her!”
“I want to teach you a lesson about friendship and loyalty.”
“Showing me something that. . .that I can’t. . .”
“What?” I tilted my head to the side. “You can’t what? Help Ella?”
I shook my head. “Ella needs no help. If I were you, I would send those letters again. She’ll get them this time. Now look at the damn picture.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, stomped over to the bed, and looked at the news clipping. “What the hell?”
Shaking her head, she picked it up. “Is this real?”
“Yes. Evian City News reported your step-father’s tragic accident this morning. It appears he somehow stumbled and fell on a chain saw. Your mother believes there could be foul play involved. Apparently, he was cut a lot to suggest he didn’t trip on it. And there’s also the fact that he never owned a chainsaw. It doesn’t matter. The Evian City Police have personally assured me that the case is cut and clear. It was an accident. His life insurance will be going to your mother.”
She parted her lips and then sat down on the bed. “He’s dead.”
“This is my loyalty. While I’m sure Celina has been there for you in your darker times, I present a different level.” I placed my hands in my pockets. “And no one harms my friends or the ones that they love. I have no tolerance for my friend’s enemies.”
She swallowed.
“What I did, requires that same loyalty from you.”
“I…I didn’t ask you to kill my step-father.”
“Yet, your sister and you benefit from his death. Surely, everyone will finally get some sleep at night.”
Another tear left her eye. This time she didn’t wipe it.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“It’s not what I want you to do, Shalimar. It’s what I want us to be.” I walked over and sat down next to her.
She glared at me. “What do you want us to be, Jean-Pierre?”
“Best friends forever.”
She let out a long breath.
I further explained, “Friends tell each other everything.”
“Celina would kill me, if she ever knew that I was telling you information.”
I scowled at her. “No one touches my friends. She comes close, and I’ll have her pushed back without moving a finger. You’re safe with me.”
“As long as we’re friends?”
“This is how it works.”
She wiped more tears as they came. “How is my mother dealing with everything? Do. . .do you know?”
“I could have my men check. An envelope of money was left for the funeral and any bills in the next couple of months.”
She whispered, “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry. There will be a time when I’ll thank you.” I rose from the bed and gestured for her to come. “Let’s go with Rafael. Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We have tons to talk about.”
For the rest of that week, Rafael, Shalimar, and I spent extended times outside of the Candy Shop. We did our best to not appear suspicious. Several men and women always came along. However, when we had our conversations, it was far from others’ ears.
Through Shalimar, I learned about Celina’s businesses and her talent for grabbing resources.
“How does she have the Russians guarding Eden?” I asked.
Shalimar finished sipping her wine. “Celina has a lover in Prague. He’s considered like a grandfather for the Bratva. His name is Igor something.”
“And he’s in love with Celina?” I asked.
“It’s not that he’s in love with her. He lost his wife a long time ago, so Celina makes him happy sometimes and because of that, it garners her power, when she needs it.”
I nodded, understanding the situation. A lot of us in our world were men with injured minds and hearts. Many desired more than pussy. They wanted a woman to hold them in bed late at night and help them forget the horror of that day.
But no one ever talked about that. Women talked things through to each other. Men shut themselves away with the hopes of one day sharing their pain with a woman they could love and trust.
Before Eden, I hadn’t been looking for that woman anymore. I’d given up and turned my obsession to things. Money. Power. Even my violin, Belladonna. It was all about objects and what I could possess in my fingers.
Eden has changed that.
On another day, Shalimar, Rafael, and I sat at a café near the beach.
Rafael and Shalimar sat close. He even fed her some grapes a few times, triggering confusion from me.
What are you doing, Rafael?
After he finished giving her a few more grapes, I rolled my eyes and asked her. “Does Celina have other resources?”
“Yes. Celina has many powerful lovers in Congress, FBI, Interpol, even in the UK’s Parliament.”
Rafael laughed and fed Shalimar another grape. “I don’t want any of Celina’s pussy. That shit must be dangerous to fuck with. It would trap me instantly.”
Shalimar frowned.
“What?” Rafael shrugged.
Uneasiness hit me. The more and more time we spent together, the more Rafael and Shalimar would act odd. I’d seen Rafael with many prostitutes before. But with this one, he was taking the girlfriend experience too serious. In fact, I couldn’t think of a time when Rafael had ever had a woman around for more than three days. And feeding them was out of the question.
Rafael, play this carefully. She’s our spy. Don’t mess this up.
My conversations with Shalimar continued. I had her go through Celina’s phone and get her lovers’ contact information. We had names for a few. Men that made even Rafael uneasy. Celina had gained huge amounts of power through sex and love.
She’s a siren too. How do I beat a woman that has many powerful men by their cocks?
A month passed at the Candy Shop.
Celina kept her gaze on me when she came to her brothel. I bedded no women, feasted in the dining area most nights, and enjoyed the live music whenever the brothel offered some. The last thing I wanted was for Eden’s aunt to think I was a brothel John.
She watched me, while my men slowly gained information on her—one prostitute at a time.
A knock sounded on the door the last night of our stay at the Candy Shop.
I shut off the screen showing Eden practicing on Belladonna. “Come in.”
Louis walked in with a thick file. “I finally figured out who sent the Russians to Nice.”
Louis spoke as I opened it. “I was able to confirm Shalimar’s information. Celina’s main Russian lover is a man in Prague named Igor Stronz.”
Pictures showed a large old man sitting on a throne of some sort with a shadowed castle. “This is the grandfather of the Bratva?”
“Yes.”
“Who took this?”
“Pepe.”
“It’s a bit theatric.”
“Igor lives in a big castle outside of Prague. He has a village of people that. . .worship him.”
“He sounds crazy.” I flipped to the other photos. Some showed people surrounding him. Animal masks covered their faces. “We have people in Prague yet?”
“Well. . .” Louis stirred. “We can’t move that easily on Igor.”
“Surely, he has strong Bratva connections. They all do. But it’s still a network. We can knock off a few Bratva without getting the big guys’ attention.”
“Not in this situation. This is going to get sticky. Igor is the Uncle of the man who heads the Bratva now, Kazimir—”
“The Lion?” I looked up.
“Yes.”
“Hmmm.” I shut the file. “Celina’s a smart woman. I move against her too deep. Igor gets involved. I move against his men, it’s an unofficial attack at the Lion. And he brings in the Bratva.”
I hadn’t dealt with Kazimir much. We’d done several arms deals together. A few times we aligned to go after the Yakuza for some territory in Tokyo. Still we both kept our distance from the other.
Louis gave me a nervous smile. “There. . .”
“What?”
“There are. . .other women in the world. Eden may be more than—”
“Thank you, Louis. I was unaware of the rising female population on earth.” I set the file on the desk. “Still put some people in Prague. Not a huge amount. They should stay to themselves and relax.”
Louis ran his fingers through his hair.
“What?”
“When Kazimir and you have discussions, it makes Europe worried.”
I crossed my arms around my chest. “We’ve managed to have business dealings with small amounts of disagreement. We’ve settled in the past.”
“This isn’t business.” Louis held his hands out. “Women are involved. This gets complicated. Pussy makes men kill other men.”
“Only the best pussy does. What man would want a woman not worth killing for?”
“Men who like to stay alive.”
“Kazimir and I are not those men.”
Someone knocked, before Louis could offer his rebuttal.
Giorgio stepped in without my letting him know to enter. “Rafael has a bunch of women fighting on the third floor. Celina has her men there. She’s kicking us out—”
“What the fuck?” I rushed away.
Louis followed.
The screams of women and shouting men guided our paths.
What the hell is going on?!
It took ten minutes for us to get to the third floor and find the damn room where all the chaos occurred. Celina’s men blocked the doorway. We barreled through. A few took out their guns. Louis and Giorgio took out theirs.
I stared at the security closest to the door. “Let us through.”
“Celina doesn’t want anyone in,” he said.
I gestured at Giorgio.
Giorgio knocked the man in his Adam’s apple with the butt of his gun. Probably shattering important parts of the man’s throat. Best case scenario, the man’s voice would change significantly. Worst case scenario, his esophagus had smashed, and he died as soon as he hit the floor.
The man dropped to the floor. His body didn’t rise and fall as if he was breathing.
Celina’s other man raised his shaking hands and moved out of the way. “G-go ahead.”
I scowled at Giorgio. “Why did you kill him? I wanted you to keep Celina’s men safe.”
“I thought that was a nod to kill him.” Giorgio shrugged.
Sighing, I grabbed the door knob.
Louis mumbled. “This is why they call you the butler. You’re only trusted to carry the hand towels during a fight.”
I opened the door.
Shalimar and two women wrestled and fought in the corner of the room right on the floor. Rafael had been trying to get ahold of Shalimar as she held both of the women’s hair in a tight grip. Celina and another woman was on the other side, trying to separate Shalimar’s grip too.
Shattered vases and broken glasses littered the floor. Splattered food lay everywhere. Shoes and ripped panties. One wig dangled on the slow circling ceiling fan above us.
“Fuck.” Louis rushed in to help Celina and only got in the way.
Giorgio who’d apparently felt he needed to prove himself, rushed up to Shalimar, and slapped her.
Shocked, she let go.
Rafael and Shalimar fell back. He kept a tight hold on her, not letting her get free.
Giorgio checked my reaction.
I shrugged.
Probably shouldn’t have slapped her, but you did split them up.
The other two women got free. One scrambled back in fear from the whole situation. The other sought revenge and raced back at Shalimar.
“Donna, get back over here, before you get your ass whipped again.” Celina yelled.
Louis grabbed Donna.
I checked Donna’s face and then the other woman’s face Shalimar had fought. They both were identical twins.
Now, I understand everything.
Rafael had a thing for twins. He’d buttered up Shalimar in these past months. Showered her with attention and things. Made her feel like she was more special than all the other women.
And then twins came around. It must’ve been too tempting for Rafael to resist.
Another ten minutes went by as my men dragged out the screaming twins.
Celina pointed at me. “Why are you here, Jean-Pierre? You have nothing to do with this. Or do you?”
I placed my hands in my pants pockets. “I’m here as Rafael’s legal advisor.”
“Get out!” She signaled at the door. “All of you. I don’t like any of you at the Candy Shop.”
I nodded. “Perhaps, we can find a better solution for this problem?”
She pointed at Rafael. He’d now let go of Shalimar and stood next to her. “This idiot has my women fighting each other.”
Rafael shrugged and then winked at Celina. “I’ve been known to break hoes.”
“Hoes?” Shalimar slapped Rafael so hard, I jumped a half an inch.
Next, she stormed off. I moved out of her way.
Giorgio opened the door.
“Shalimar!” Celina called after her.
Shalimar paused and turned around. “Yes, Celina?”
“What happened?” Celina asked. “Has any of these men done anything to you or—”
“It was a bad moment of judgement.” Shalimar stared at the floor.
I hadn’t even realized I’d held in my breath. We’d put Shalimar in a major position of power. If she wanted to, she could tell Celina what was going on and end the whole operation.
Igor wouldn’t appreciate his lover being spied on by a bunch of Corsican. His nephew Kazimir might step in or not. It would matter on how bad the disrespect would be seen.
No. This wouldn’t get the lion’s attention, but I still need Shalimar to remain quiet.
Celina shrugged. “Okay. We’ll talk more.”
Shalimar left.
Celina turned to us. “All of you, leave my establishment.”
Rafael, Giorgio, and Louis turned to me.
I nodded. “We’ll need an hour to leave.”
Celina scowled. “Make it thirty minutes.”
Giorgio left, probably to begin preparations.
Louis and Rafael followed.
I remained there and studied Celina.
She was a gorgeous woman. Since watching Eden’s footage, I could no
w make out the similarities in both women. They had the same wide seducing eyes, pointed nose, and full pouting lips.
She twisted that beautiful face into an expression of anger. “You were entertaining to me months ago.”
“Now?”
“You’re starting to annoy me.”
I guess I won’t tell her about Giorgio killing her guard.
“When you leave, Jean-Pierre, make sure that you continue out of the Red Light District, far down Ocean highway, and stop right at the airport.” She placed her hands on her hips just like Eden did when she talked to her father on the phone. “Then, I want you to get on your overcompensatingly big plane—”
“That’s Rafael’s plane. Mine isn’t as much overcompensating.”
“Fly away, Jean-Pierre. Fly far away.” She strolled over and stopped right in front of me. “The weather is nice this evening for a flight. Go now, because tomorrow morning it will rain, and you’ll find that you may wake up to a storm that you can’t handle.”
My jaw twitched, but I let her have her moment.
“You bought Belladonna Symphony.” She leaned her head to the side. “Why?”
“I enjoy classical music.”
“You also tried to buy my niece’s building.”
“I’ve enjoyed my time in this city. I’m interested in real estate.”
She curved her lips into a smile. “I have a panel that follows me around. It’s an imaginary panel, but still should be respected.”
“A panel?”
She walked off. “This panel has buttons on it. Big red buttons. And when a button is pushed, men come.” She stopped and turned my way. “Men with guns. Men with badges. Men with laws that could build international walls around you. Brick by brick. These men come when I push at the buttons on my panel.”
“Or you could leave your panel alone and we could come to some sort of compromise, when it comes to Eden.”
“I don’t compromise when it comes to my family, Jean-Pierre. You have thirty minutes to leave the Candy Shop.” She checked her watch. “Actually twenty-five minutes, and then you continue to watch the clock. Because you have twenty-four hours to leave this city.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Then, I will push the buttons on my panel and let the cards fall where they may. This isn’t a threat. It’s advice from a wise woman that cares. Fly away, Jean-Pierre, fly far away.”