Queen’s Move: Book Two of The Queens

by Slater, Nikita

  No response for a moment and he wondered what she was thinking. He found her all the more enticing for thinking that she could change his mind. Nothing she said or did would change his mind. They were a match made in heaven. Had been from the moment he set eyes on her, but he became more convinced each time he saw her, talked with her. She was vicious, intelligent and beautiful. He couldn’t have asked for a better woman to come into his life. He didn’t mind chasing her around a bit, cornering her in her beloved city until she had nowhere to go but into his waiting arms.

  “Alright,” she finally said. “Nothing I say is going to convince you otherwise. But if you ever do manage to get me to an alter it will be one hundred percent unwilling. And you’ll have to sleep with one eye open for the rest of your life.”

  “I’m sure we’ll settle into married life blissfully,” he replied, a smile curving his lips.

  “And for the record, no woman likes to receive body parts as an engagement gift, asshole.” Each word a little grenade lobbed at him. He let her have the last word, mostly because she hung up on him.

  Sotza lowered the phone and took a sip of tea, picturing Vee, flushed with anger, stomping around her condo. She was a beautiful woman, but he particularly liked when her cheeks were blushing pink. It complemented her smooth, silky blond hair. He’d never been particularly attracted to any single type of woman. Thought they were all fine. Fucked the ones that attracted him, when he felt like it. Not often. Women got complicated and annoying. And he preferred not to kill them unless it became unavoidable. But Vee, she was different. Her cool beauty called to him, but her fiery temper captured and held his attention. Her intelligence, her determination, her pride, it all sealed the deal.

  There was almost nothing he wasn’t willing to do to ensure her place at his side. Including cornering and trapping her in her own city. He’d give her one more move, just for fun. After that, it would be time to collect his queen.

  Chapter Nine

  “We can’t find her, Señor.”

  Sotza looked up from his temporary desk and studied the man standing before him, assessing him. He didn’t frown, didn’t get angry, didn’t react. That was the thing about the Venezuelan boss, what terrorized the people that knew him, or knew of him. He rarely gave warning before he struck. Simply waited until his victim wasn’t watching then killed them, no fuss, no mess. The lucky ones would die before they even knew what happened. The unlucky ones got to find out why he was nicknamed the Gentleman Butcher.

  Sotza sat back in his chair, his posture straight. “I must say, Mr. Cruz, I am… disappointed.”

  It’d been five days since he spoke with Vee, five days since he took out her Mexican connection. He had to admit, he’d been hoping for a vicious comeback from his future bride. Her retaliations were a thing of beauty, the dockyard a particular favourite moment of his. She’d been glorious, facing him down, standing at the front of her crew, surrounded by smoke. Wild and furious, unafraid. He wasn’t disappointed with her quiet disappearance though. No, he was intrigued. What could she be up to?

  Steve Cruz shifted from foot to foot and tried to look anywhere but at his boss. “The thing is, she ain’t at her condo, she ain’t at her mansion, and none of us that’re sitting on both places saw her leave.”

  “Which draws us to the conclusion…?” Sotza asked patiently.

  Cruz frowned, then he understood. “That she must’ve left another way, or maybe never was at home to begin with.”

  “She was home, Cruz, as I told you when I asked you and your men to sit on her residences. To watch her movements and report.” Sotza mulled over the possibilities. “Perhaps she didn’t leave. Perhaps she’s still at home.”

  “No, boss, we checked.”

  Sotza stiffened, his back ramrod straight against the leather chair. “What exactly do you mean by ‘checked’?”

  “We knocked on the door.” Watching Cruz explain his actions was like watching a train about to derail. His death was going to be fast, surprising and painful. “When she didn’t answer we went in to check on her, see if she was there. But everything was silent, cold, you know, like no one’d been home in awhile.”

  Sotza refrained from pointing out that he’d specifically asked Cruz and his men to remain in the background, never going near Vee or her people. Now it would appear that Vee had gone to ground in a move he hadn’t anticipated, and he had no idea where she might be. If she’d fled the city or was waiting him out.

  He also didn’t ask why Cruz hadn’t thought it strange that there was no security stopping them from entering her home. He didn’t want to tip Cruz off to the depth of his fury. Not before he was ready to dispose of the man. “And the mansion? I take it you applied similar tactics?”

  Cruz nodded eagerly, wanting to prove his diligence. “No one home there either, Señor.”

  This is what Sotza got for hiring local thugs. He’d overestimated Cruz’s intelligence, expected too much. In hindsight, Sotza should’ve gotten someone smarter, braver and generally a bit more of everything that Cruz wasn’t to watch his woman. The moment he’d decided to keep Vee for himself he should’ve flown Mateo Gutierrez in. Mateo was a jack of all trades. Sometimes Sotza’s second, sometimes his enforcer, sometimes security, and sometimes, on rare occasions, he acted in Sotza’s stead. Taking meetings Sotza couldn’t or wouldn’t make, acting decisively in the Venezuelan boss’s name. Naturally, when Sotza had left his estate, he’d left his seat of power vulnerable. The only man he trusted to care for things in his stead was Mateo. But now he needed him in Miami.

  When Sotza went a few minutes without speaking, Cruz opened his mouth to say something, break the silence, possibly blubber out an excuse for his poor behaviour. Sotza help up a hand, stopping him. Cruz fell silent while Sotza picked up his phone and dialed Mateo.

  “Mateo,” Sotza said into the phone when his man picked up, his voice marginally warmer.

  “Boss,” Mateo acknowledged. “How’s Florida? You get down to the beach yet, enjoy some sun?”

  Sotza shook his head. Mateo liked to think he was funny. He enjoyed the idea of Sotza in a bathing suit, out of his typical outfit of impeccable black suit with its long coat, white collared shirt, vest and tie. “Regrettably, no.”

  “Too bad,” Mateo said, humour in his voice. “With your once-per-decade tolerance toward vacations I thought you might do what the locals do and go to the beach.”

  Now Sotza did chuckle. The reason Mateo was calling his trip to Miami a ‘vacation’ was because they both knew how much Sotza enjoyed a good bloodbath. He loved takeovers, the more hostile the better. It’d been years since anyone had dared to disrupt his life enough that he had to reiterate his brutal reputation. This trip had invigorated him, reminded him of why he loved being boss. And Vee was the icing on the cake. The sweet treat he wasn’t expecting when he agreed to Reyes’ proposal to travel to the States.

  “I need you in Miami,” Sotza said, sobering and getting down to business. “Come watch my back while I take care of business.”

  “With pleasure,” Mateo said enthusiastically. He was no less bloodthirsty than his boss. He’d been disappointed, though appreciative, when Sotza left him in charge at home. Now he’d get to join the action. “I’ll arrange my arrival just past midnight.”

  Sotza flicked a glance at his watch. It was 7pm. The flight took around three and half hours. This is what he liked about his man. Didn’t fuck around when he had his orders. Made snap decisions that were in both his and Sotza’s best interests. Mateo wasn’t an amateur. Sotza eyed Cruz, who had remained wisely silent throughout the conversation. He wondered if maybe he shouldn’t keep the man alive, perhaps find another use for him.

  “Excellent,” Sotza said to Mateo. “Bring some reinforcements. I’d like to wrap things up here and wouldn’t mind some decisive action to keep Miami in line after I leave.”

  He hung up the phone and stared coolly at Cruz. “Do you have a friend, Mr. Cruz? Someone loyal, maybe educated
? Someone that can help me out until I’m done here.”

  Cruz nodded emphatically, pleased to be able to finally give the terrifying Venezuelan some good news. “Yes, Señor. My cousin Paulo is real book smart and good on the streets too. He likes to help out sometimes, make a little extra cash for college.”

  “And how do I get in touch with Paulo?” Sotza drawled.

  Cruz quickly wrote down the number and stepped back. “Anything else I can do you for, boss?”

  “Yes,” Sotza said agreeably. “Lock the door, please. This next part isn’t for anyone but you.”

  Chapter Ten

  Vee was not happy. And when she wasn’t happy she paced. Back and forth, side to side, crosswise. Paced and thought. Tried to think of ways to make herself happier.

  “His head in a box would be great,” she muttered to herself. “Hell, I’d even take his severed hands in a box. With a ribbon wrapped around. Have to admit, it’s a nice touch. Adds an element of gruesome suspense. A decent bath and a hot cup of tea would also be great. But no need to go overboard, the dead Butcher in a box will do just fine.”

  Danny raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He was used to her nervous, irritable pacing. She tended to think better when she walked, but her life as an East Coast mafia boss had curtailed her ability to take regular walks outdoors. A shame, she loved to go down to the boardwalk and enjoy the fresh salty sea air, the humid heat of the Florida sun seeping through her clothes and warming her skin.

  Vee wasn’t happy when she wasn’t active. She wasn’t happy when she wasn’t working. And she especially wasn’t happy when she’d been driven into hiding, cooped up in a dilapidated industrial apartment on the wrong side of the tracks. Danny had convinced her to lay low in the city if she wouldn’t actually leave it. It was killing her to keep a low profile, sit back while Sotza took out her contacts and replaced them with his own people. She’d warned some of her people that they needed to leave town and lay low, others she hadn’t been able to get hold of.

  She badly wanted to take action, but she listened to Danny, decided to play things smart. To give Sotza time. He would be distracted by her disappearance if he was indeed as infatuated with her as he professed. It might slow him down, confuse him. Give her time to come up with a plan.

  “What if we went to Bertrand for help?” she asked, louder, so Danny knew she was actually talking to him this time. She turned on her heel as she reached the far wall. She was wearing a pair of comfortable running shoes instead of her usual steel-spiked stilettos.

  “Not a good idea,” Danny said shaking his head. “Bertrand’s loyal to no one but himself and his MC. He’ll turn you over to Sotza in a heartbeat in he thinks he can profit.”

  “I’ll offer him more,” she countered with a frown.

  “You had enough trouble with the Mexicans, now you think you can take on the most vicious biker gang on the East Coast? Bertrand doesn’t like a woman’s authority any more than Domingo had. Only difference is, Bertrand was able to separate business from personal politics when it came to border trade.” Danny crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at her. “How do you think you can outmaneuver both a perpetually angry biker and The Butcher at the same time? Bad idea sweetheart.”

  Danny was right. Calling on the Quebec boys would only land her in even more trouble. Bertrand was one of a kind: big, mean, cold-hearted and indiscriminate about his kills. True to club life, the wild leader rarely recognized any kind of authority. There was a reason she tried never to see him face to face. With a whole MC filled with men similar to him he had a stranglehold on the entire East Coast of Canada.

  She sighed and continued pacing. “What about the Italians? Some of them might remember Tony from his heyday, might talk to me, give me a chance.”

  Danny actually laughed out loud, incredulous. “You’ve been encroaching on their territory this entire past year. You think they don’t know exactly who took over when you killed Tony? They were front of the line for that show. Only reason they haven’t come for you is you had more people at your back than them, you had Reyes.”

  She flinched when he mentioned Reyes. The man that had effectively targeted her for death by sending Sotza to clean up her operations. No one wanted to be on Reyes’ bad side.

  Danny continued, “If the Italians find out that your hold on Miami is in question, they’ll slit your throat faster than you can say spaghetti.”

  “I have to do something!” She threw her hands up in the air. She turned to glare at her second. He wasn’t being even remotely helpful.

  “What you have to do is stay low, keep your head down. Don’t do something stupid, Vee. Not worth your life.”

  “I can’t do this indefinitely. I hate hiding, it’s not my style. I didn’t even lay low when Tony was coming after me, screaming at me,” she seethed. “If I could take a beating from him and hold my own, then I certainly won’t hide from Sotza.”

  Danny didn’t say anything, just watched silently as she continued to pace and mutter, trying to come up with a solution. It didn’t matter what he said anyway, she would go her own way. She was reasonable enough to listen to his advice, but she was headstrong and stubborn. She’d follow her own path in the end, do what she thought was the right thing to solve her problem.

  Finally she stopped, her distracted gaze on the floor. “Sotza’s trying to smoke me out, corner me, kill my business. He expects fury and retaliation.” She looked at Danny, her heart beating harder in anticipation. “What if I surprise him, give him the opposite of what he expects?”

  Instead of intrigued or even remotely like he would agree to her plan, Danny looked suspiciously disagreeable. “And what exactly is that?” he demanded. A little disrespectfully, she thought. But she’d forgive him since she’d essentially painted a target on his back by going up against the Venezuelan.

  “Me,” she said with a smile as the plan formed in her mind. “I’m going to give him me.”

  * * *

  “I must say.” Sotza smoothly slid into the booth next to Vee. He shifted until he was sitting so close his thigh was brushing hers. “I wasn’t expecting to dine with such a charming companion this evening.”

  Vee kept her face as neutral as possible and purposefully slid a few inches away from him. She lifted her water glass and took a sip before carefully placing it back on the table. It took effort to make sure her hand didn’t shake, that she didn’t accidentally spill the water. She was sitting next to one of the most dangerous men in the world, and though she could be pretty vicious herself, she couldn’t hold a candle to him. She boldly studied him, allowing the silence to linger. She’d asked for this meeting so that she could finally take back a little control.

  Everything about him pissed her off. From his dignified presence to his impeccably tailored clothing. Every time she saw him he was wearing a version of the same suit: dress pants, white collared shirt with a French cuff paired with appeared to be silk knot cufflinks, silk, Jacquard black tie, vest and coat. He stood out against the Miami backdrop, overdressed for the weather, too formal for the laid back party city. Yet the quiet air of deadly menace that he exuded negated his strange formality. He was not a classically handsome man, face too sharp, features too strong. Thick eyebrows, penetrating dark brown eyes, a long, thin nose, high cheekbones, strong clean-shaven jaw. There was a slight curl to his dark, greying hair, which he groomed to include long sideburns. They only emphasized the sharpness of his facial features, giving him a penetrating, hawk-like appearance.

  And though she knew better, should be repulsed by how the man operated, her body reacted to his. Every time she saw him. Something about him was intensely attractive. Not any individual thing, but the whole package together. She didn’t like to acknowledge it, but his dogged pursuit of her certainly didn’t hurt either. It annoyed her that she reacted so strongly to him, made her want to slit his throat at the earliest opportunity, yet Vee had to admit that a marriage proposal from such a powerful, good-looking man was enou
gh to make even her cold, ice-filled heart flutter.

  Finally, after an appropriately rude amount of time had passed, she spoke, her voice cool. “Hiding doesn’t suit me.”

  His thin lips stretched into a semi-smile as his eyes dropped down her body. He shifted slightly, signalling a nearby waiter. “No, my dear, hiding does not suit you.” He turned to speak to the waiter. “I’ll have a bourbon, neat. And champagne for the lady please.” Sotza turned back to her, his arm across the back of the booth, pinning her in.

  Vee frowned, her gaze following the retreating waiter. “If I’d wanted a drink I would’ve ordered one for myself.”

  Sotza ignored her comment. “Why did you invite me here this evening, Vee? Not that I’m not delighted, but your behaviour thus far has indicated you don’t particularly enjoy my company.”

  Vee’s jaw was beginning to ache from clenching her teeth together in an attempt to keep a rein on her anger. She struggled not to give away her emotions, to keep her face as immobile as possible while she studied him with what she hoped appeared to be glacial indifference. Still, she couldn’t just let the drink thing go. “You’re a heavy-handed prick, you know that?”

  He dipped his head in acknowledgment and reached for his drink as the waiter arrived back at the table. Sotza drank deeply, seeming to appreciate the smooth liquor as it slid down his throat. He didn’t order another though, simply placed his empty glass on the table and continued to study her. His face said indifference, but his eyes and body spoke of heat and lust. It was a confusing combination. He off-balanced her, made her wonder what his true intentions were. As flattering as it was to receive a marriage proposal, she knew she couldn’t trust his motives. No one fell in love that quickly.

  “I want to negotiate,” she said in her firmest voice, ignoring the drink in front of her. She wouldn’t touch it. The waiter came by to see if Sotza wanted another drink and while he was there she handed him back the champagne. “I don’t drink alcohol, and if my date had done his homework, he’d know that.” Sotza gifted her with a small incline of his head as he waved the waiter away. She suspected Sotza already knew her preferences, was fucking with her. He wasn’t the type to leave any box unchecked.