Creole Kingpin

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by Meghan March




  Creole Kingpin

  Meghan March

  Contents

  Creole Kingpin

  Also by Meghan March

  About Creole Kingpin

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Sneak Peek of Ruthless King

  Sneak Peek of The Fall of Legend

  Also by Meghan March

  About the Author

  Creole Kingpin

  Book One of the Magnolia Duet

  * * *

  Meghan March

  Copyright © 2020 by Meghan March LLC

  All rights reserved.

  Editor: Pam Berehulke, Bulletproof Editing

  www.bulletproofediting.com

  Cover design: © Regina Wamba, Mae I Design

  www.exclusivebookstock.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  * * *

  Visit my website at www.meghanmarch.com

  Also by Meghan March

  Magnolia Duet

  Creole Kingpin

  Madam Temptress

  (April 2020)

  * * *

  Legend Trilogy

  The Fall of Legend

  House of Scarlett

  The Fight for Forever

  * * *

  Dirty Mafia Duet:

  Black Sheep

  White Knight

  * * *

  Forge Trilogy:

  Deal with the Devil

  Luck of the Devil

  Heart of the Devil

  * * *

  Sin Trilogy:

  Richer Than Sin

  Guilty as Sin

  Reveling in Sin

  * * *

  Mount Trilogy:

  Ruthless King

  Defiant Queen

  Sinful Empire

  * * *

  Savage Trilogy:

  Savage Prince

  Iron Princess

  Rogue Royalty

  Beneath Series:

  Beneath This Mask

  Beneath This Ink

  Beneath These Chains

  Beneath These Scars

  Beneath These Lies

  Beneath These Shadows

  Beneath The Truth

  * * *

  Dirty Billionaire Trilogy:

  Dirty Billionaire

  Dirty Pleasures

  Dirty Together

  * * *

  Dirty Girl Duet:

  Dirty Girl

  Dirty Love

  * * *

  Real Duet:

  Real Good Man

  Real Good Love

  * * *

  Real Dirty Duet:

  Real Dirty

  Real Sexy

  * * *

  Flash Bang Series:

  Flash Bang

  Hard Charger

  * * *

  Standalones:

  Take Me Back

  Bad Judgment

  About Creole Kingpin

  New York Times bestselling author Meghan March goes back to New Orleans and the world of Lachlan Mount with a dangerous and bold new anti-hero.

  The thing about ghosts is they’re supposed to stay dead.

  That’s exactly what I am, but I can’t stay away from Magnolia Marie Maison for one more day, let alone another year.

  We’ve already got fifteen of those between us.

  As it stands, she’ll want to kill me as soon as she lays eyes on me. And knowing her, she’s completely up to the task.

  But I’m a man on a mission, and I’ve got everything riding on this.

  So, here I come, Magnolia. This ghost is ready for whatever you got.

  After all, there’s only one way I want this to end—’til death do us part.

  Creole Kingpin is the first book in the Magnolia Duet. The story concludes in Madam Temptress, which is available for preorder now by tapping on the title

  One

  Magnolia

  “One card. You know the drill. I’m feeling strong energy coming off you today, Magnolia.”

  I pause midstride between the Saint Louis Cathedral and Jackson Square as Madame Celeste waves me over to her rickety card table. She has a shop a few streets over, but she sets up out here more than I think an elderly woman should. But then again, what the hell do I know? It’s not like I could stop her anyway. Stubborn woman. I guess like recognizes like.

  “You’re only saying that because I didn’t stop to say hi. I’m in a hurry,” I tell her, my eyebrow popping up. Celeste and I go way back. She’s been a fixture in the Quarter for as long as I can remember.

  “Come see. There’s always time for what the cards have to say.”

  My heels click on the stone pavers as I close the distance to her table. “I have an appointment, Celeste. I can’t fuck around today.” When something gleams in her otherworldly pale blue eyes in response, I huff out a breath. “Fine. Two minutes. One card. But I can’t be late.”

  She holds out the deck, and I knock the top and shuffle quickly.

  “Your life is about to change, chère.”

  My brow creases. “You haven’t even flipped over the card,” I say, giving her my best side-eye. Despite my words and the warm, sunny day, chills skitter up my spine, unleashing a raft of goose bumps along my exposed skin.

  Celeste smiles, revealing the gap between her two front teeth. “I don’t need the cards to feel the winds of change. You’ve been out of sorts for too long, Magnolia. The universe feels your energy and the questions you’ve been asking. Your answers are coming. All will be revealed.”

  I tip my head to the side and release anot
her long breath of annoyance, but inside, I’m tense as hell. Celeste shouldn’t know this shit. And, really, I shouldn’t be buying into it. I’m a woman of the world, and no deck of cards is going to tell me what will happen in my life. I’m in control. That’s the way this works.

  Yet, here I sit.

  “You don’t need to give me the tourist song and dance, Celeste. Just flip the damn card.”

  “You feel it too,” she says, and her eyes seem to glow. There’s only one other person I’ve ever seen up close who had eyes that did the same trick, but they were a different color.

  And we don’t think about him. Not fucking ever.

  “Right now, all I feel is how much I don’t want to be late to this meeting I need to get to.”

  She winks at me and flips the card.

  The Devil.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Celeste.” I cut my gaze away from the card to her face. “You stop me and then flip over the Devil card?”

  There’s no hiding my discomfort in this moment. I scrub my hands up and down my arms to chase away the damn chill I shouldn’t be feeling in this sunlight.

  “You shuffled the deck, Magnolia. You brought the card up. You can deny it all you want, but you feel it too, don’t you? The unease that’s been dogging your every step? You’re letting everything that’s happened to you eat you alive, and it’s gotta stop.” The woman sits up straighter and pulls back her thin shoulders. “It’s time for change. You can’t keep going on the way you are. You gotta make a choice.”

  The twisting knot in place of where my stomach used to be tightens to the point of discomfort. I’ve been carrying the weight of shit my whole life. That’s nothing new to me. But Celeste is right. The last couple of years, shit’s been getting real heavy.

  Grief. Betrayal. Rage. Heartbreak.

  Celeste hit the nail on the head—just like always. All those feelings swirling inside me have been slowly eating me alive. A girl like me can shake off a lot, but even I can only handle so much. Shooting and killing a man the way I did . . . it’ll fuck you up.

  I stare into Celeste’s eerie eyes and force a smile to my crimson-painted lips. Bravado has always been one of my most valuable assets, a talent I can’t live without.

  “That’s enough, Celeste. I’m fine. Shit always works out in the end.”

  She shakes her turban-covered head slowly from side to side. “Change is coming whether you want it or not. I know you like to dance with the devil, but watch yourself, girl. He always demands his due.”

  The hair rises on the back of my neck as I stand up. “Take care of yourself, Celeste. I’ll see you later. I gotta go.”

  Her hand snakes out to grab my fingers, and I tense at her bony grip.

  “All I want is for you to find peace. Peace and love, chère. Now go, but watch yourself. Those winds of change are blowing strong. I feel it in my bones.”

  With those foreboding last words, Celeste releases my hand, and I flex my fingers to shake off her predictions. I back away from the table, turning in the direction I was headed, making my way through the crowd of tourists who’ve gathered in front of musicians playing a tuba, a trumpet, and a trombone. Static rushes in my ears, drowning out the sound of the brass playing “When the Saints Go Marching In.”

  With my arms wrapped tightly around my middle, I pick my way across the gray stones beneath my feet, careful not to catch a heel in the cracks.

  What the hell was that about? Change is coming whether I want it or not? As if that’s news. It’s the one thing I can always count on—shit changes.

  Someone slams into me from the side, and my purse strap yanks against my shoulder.

  “Not today, motherfucker,” I bite out as my grip tightens, and I lock eyes on a kid who should definitely be in school. Then again, around that age, I wasn’t either.

  His eyes go wide before practically bulging out of his head when he gets a good look at me. I’m attractive. I have a body built for sin and a face to match.

  My silky dark hair flutters in the breeze as I tilt my head at him. “You hear me? Not today.”

  The kid’s head bobbles like one of those toys on a dashboard, and as if by magic, his hand releases my purse strap. “S-sorry, ma’am. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  I spear him with a don’t-fuck-with-me glare. “Right. And I was born yesterday.”

  He licks his lips and drops his gaze to my tits before backing away slowly. “You’re fucking hot.” At least this, he says to my face.

  “Get your ass off the streets before you get picked up for all the shit you’ve done.”

  He nods, but it’s unlikely my words will change a damn thing. The sorry excuse for a petty thief breaks eye contact after another beat before trotting away through the crowd. Probably off to find an unsuspecting victim.

  At least it wasn’t me.

  You can’t save them all, Mags. You can’t save them all.

  With that truth echoing in my brain, I start marching again, my focus on getting to this meeting before I’m actually late. Tardiness isn’t something Mount tolerates, even from his wife’s best friend. Him marrying Keira has definitely made my life easier, but it’s clear where my bread is buttered, and I show proper respect. No one wants to wake the beast that man can be, especially not me. I’m all about self-preservation.

  As I move to cross the street, dodging pedestrians, something catches my attention through the plate glass window of a building on the other side. An eerie greenish-gold gaze collides with mine.

  Not. Possible.

  Blinking, I spin around in the middle of the street, then rush toward the window to get a better look.

  It can’t be him. Not now. Not after all this time. That’d be like conjuring a damned ghost.

  A small crowd of tourists blocks me as they gather around three boys drumming on five-gallon buckets, but I sidestep them to stare through the glass. Those haunting eyes I thought I saw? They’re gone. And the seat where I thought I saw them? Empty. Again.

  It’s not the first time I’ve thought I saw the man those eyes belong to, but I’m always wrong.

  He isn’t coming back for you, and he never was. You’ve had fifteen years to get that through your damn head.

  You’d think I’d learn. But old habits die hard, especially my habit of looking for him in every face I see.

  “Change is coming.” Madame Celeste’s words filter through my head as I stand on the sidewalk, staring at people eating brunch in the restaurant.

  The scent of rich spices waft around me, and I swear I hear his voice.

  “Some things don’t happen twice in a lifetime, Magnolia. You’re one of them.”

  Those words are from the past.

  Fifteen years ago, I let myself forget who and what I was, and I made the ultimate mistake.

  I fell in love.

  Then he left and never came back. My heart has been black ever since.

  Maybe Celeste is right. Maybe the devil is coming for me. Too bad it won’t be the one I still think about in my weakest moments.

  Two

  Magnolia

  “I’m here for an appointment,” I tell the bartender as I check my watch. I’m still five minutes early, thank the good Lord.

  The woman looks into the mirror hanging behind the bar and meets my gaze. With a tilt of her head, she motions for me to move toward the back of the room. A man approximately the size of a hundred-year-old sycamore stands between the scarred bar and a small doorway that leads into the office.

  My pumps click on the concrete floor as I walk toward him.

  “Appointment,” is all I say in greeting to the man.

  He gestures with his massive head and turns around. With his bulky frame, he has to turn sideways slightly to fit through the doorway. He pushes open the first door on the right, which leads into what looks like the manager’s office, but I know better.

  This ain’t my first go-round.

  Honestly, it kind of grates on me that I have to
go through this whole song and dance to meet with the king of this city when I’ve been to his goddamned house so many times to see Keira. But this is Mount’s way of reminding me that my friendship with her doesn’t always give me special privileges. I’d call him an asshole, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he could read my mind from here.

  Mount is fucking scary. And yes, I knew that before they got together. But like I told Celeste, everything works out in the end. Right? A web of guilt winds its way around me for the choices I made that changed Keira’s life. I may never shake that off completely.

 

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