by Maria Dean
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE Unmasked
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
CHAPTER TWO Deceived
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
CHAPTER THREE Frozen
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR Elixir
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
CHAPTER FIVE Alchemy
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
CHAPTER SIX Destiny
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Coda
Other Books By
About the Author
Maria Dean
Book Title: (c)2019 by Maria Dean. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quite brief passages in a review.For more information, visit our website at www.mariadean.com.
Copyright © 2019 Maria Dean
All rights reserved.
CHAPTER ONE
Unmasked
CHAPTER 1
The Green Line was delayed again, and if it kept her held up any longer, Astrid was considering carjacking as a seriously valid option.
The Twin Cities metro light rails were, 90% of the time, punctual with a two-minute grace period. Astrid was just one of many residents of the Twin Cities who relied on public transportation to get to work. Though she lived close to her office in downtown Minneapolis, her job required her to bounce around the Twin Cities to reach different clients.
Her next client lived on Saint Paul's legendary Summit Avenue. A street lined with some of the country's oldest and wealthiest houses.
Summit Avenue was on the opposite side of town. Astrid learnt long ago, when a job required her to travel further, she needed to arrive at least an hour before the meeting was scheduled. It compensated for the moments when one bus would go a little too slow and she'd miss her transfer by minutes. It almost made her want to buy a car. Almost.
"Attention passengers," an automated voice filled the platform, "an accident has occurred on the Snelling Avenue Green Line stop. Buses will be available between Target Field and Union Depot in ten minutes. The Blue Line will not be affected by this change."
Astrid looked down at her phone and grimaced. Even if the bus came in ten minutes, it would start at Target Field, three stops away from where she was. Her destination was another nine stops away from Snelling. There she was supposed to catch a southbound bus to get to Summit. The benefit of the light rail was it operated much faster than normal street buses. By her math, the bus could put Astrid behind by twenty minutes, running dangerously close to her deadline.
The light rail's signature two-toned bells began to ring. Astrid looked up at the incoming Blue Line train. "Time to improvise," she muttered to herself. The Blue Line ran to the southeast of Minneapolis, toward the airport and the cities' most notorious tourist trap, the Mall of America. If Astrid timed her trip right, she could catch a rapid bus that went north to Summit. It would put her behind schedule by five minutes. A worthy sacrifice to make.
Screeching to a stop, the train's automated doors creaked open. Astrid, gathering her composure, stepped inside and sat in the seat closest to the door. At ten o'clock on a Tuesday morning, she didn't expect too much trouble. Astrid had experienced her share of harassment on public transit. It was an unfortunate reality of being a woman who had to use the rail. Nothing she wasn't prepared to handle. Astrid spread her legs out in a possessive stance and kept her posture straight. The surer of herself she looked, the less likely she was to be harassed.
Astrid knew it was a fantasy at best. In reality, the creeps of the rail picked on any woman they found appealing. Her faux confidence only got her so far.
"Approaching Cedar-Riverside Station," the robotic voice announced. Astrid glanced at the rail map across from her. Four stops to go. She leant back slightly in the seat, allowing herself a moment to relax. The light rail doors opened for more passengers. A man shuffled on board, his scruffy goatee and dirty clothes contrasting with his sharp features. If he didn't look like he was drunk out of his mind, Astrid would've found him hot.
Bringing her briefcase closer to her body, Astrid tried to distract herself. She pulled out her phone and decided to occupy herself looking into the Green Line accident. Hopefully they could clear it up in time for her to return to the office. She had a second client meeting in the afternoon and didn't want to take the roundabout route back to headquarters. Tapping the phrase 'Saint Paul transit accident' into her phone, she waited for the train's WIFI to load the news.
"Lord have mercy," Astrid murmured, clicking on the first article she found. An unknown man had thrown himself off the station platform as the Green Line passed by. The accident interrupted the Snelling and University intersection, one of the most occupied parts in the area. Vehicles of all types were held up as the police arrived at the scene. Astrid's best bet was trying to pick up a bus replacement for the train.
"The world's a fucked up place." Astrid tilted her head up, glancing at the speaker. The bearded man rubbed his chin, his dark blue eyes appraising her curiously. Astrid turned back to her phone. The last thing she needed was to engage with some crazy stranger on the train. He, apparently, didn't get the memo. "Doesn't do you any good to stay ignorant. The dark shit finds everyone. Everything's just a matter of time."
"Approaching Franklin Avenue Station. Transfer here to bus routes 2, 8, 9, and 22." Three stations away. Astrid attempted to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, searching for a way to distract herself from the other passenger. She checked the time on her phone before scrolling down her Instagram feed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man leaning forward in his seat. He placed his hands on his lap and continued staring at her. Though she tried to appear occupied, she couldn't help but analyze him. His t-shirt was covered in flecks of dark green and brown sludge. His jeans, tattered at the edges, were covered in the same substance. She was just glad he was far enough away that she couldn't smell him.
He snorted, suddenly, the laugh catching Astrid off guard. "I can feel you staring." He cocked his head to the side. "You're not good at this thing."
Astrid didn't want to know what 'thing' he meant. Spying on him, maybe. Being inconspicuous. He was right about that one. Astrid couldn't help sticking out in the crowd thanks to her hair. She'd inherited her long dark curly hair from her mother which she straightened within an inch of it's life but on humid days like today the curl returned. It was an advantage when she wanted to hide her face from passersby, but it meant she also attracted stranger's attention everywhere she went.
"Approaching Lake Street and Midtown Station." Two stops to go. Astrid positioned her body away from the strange man, fixing her attention on a young couple in the corner of the train. She could survive two more stations.
But then the train was quiet. Astrid peeked over her shoulder. The man's seat was empty, a crushed can of beer taking his place. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her shoulders sagged and she relaxed into the seat. She could still feel his eyes boring into her. His 'harbinger of doom' persona wasn't the worst thing she'd experienced on the train. But his dead-on gaze was going to haunt into her memory for the rest of the day at least.
>
The train slowed to the next platform. "Approaching 38th Street Station," the Blue Line announced. Astrid checked her phone again. Still roughly five minutes later than she'd wanted to be, but better five minutes late than an hour. The young couple on the other side of the car stood up as they sped to the next station. The girl giggled at something her boyfriend said and leaned into his shoulder. Astrid smiled, glad to see at least someone was having a good day.
The couple kissed and Astrid looked away to give them privacy rather than make a big deal about their public location. The train was slowing down and Astrid needed to prepare for a quick exit. Standing as the train rode into the station, she could see an A-Line bus pulling into the lot. Astrid sped up her pace to reach the door, all but vaulting out of the train the minute the doors opened. Thankful she'd gone with pressed pants and not a skirt, Astrid sprinted to the bus stop. She slammed her bus card onto the podium and hopped inside. She dropped into the seat closest to the back exit and sighed.
Her bus didn't leave for another few minutes, and Astrid felt dumb for thinking it would leave before she could get in. The couple from the Blue Line entered after her and sat in the back to cuddle. Astrid opened her briefcase just a crack and pulled out a file to review her client's details. The woman on Summit just passed her 95th birthday. A feat Astrid assumed was accomplished with the help of modern medical technology. But why had she left it so late to write her will? Had something changed with her beneficiaries or was she vulnerable. Too often Astrid had seen families tried to take advantage of their elderly relatives when they felt they were losing their faculties.
"Magdalena Russo," Astrid examined the photo clipped to her notes. The woman's wrinkles had wrinkles. Her tight lipped frown matched the piercing gaze ripping through the picture. According to her notes, Magdalena was the matriarch of a wealthy Italian family which had resided in the same house on Summit since the late 1800s. The house itself was still in her possession, although Astrid had a feeling that would change after her visit. The file also detailed that Magdalena recently retired as a successful divorce lawyer. Astrid raised her eyebrows at the word 'recently'. "That can't be right," she said to herself.
A quick Google search later and Astrid was eating her words. Magdalena Russo graduated the youngest in her class in 1948 and worked harder than the majority of her peers. The word 'retirement' meant nothing to her. One interview claimed she'd rather die in the middle of a court session than a retirement home. She quit on account of her family's insistence, not of her own accord.
"Ford and Fairview Station," the bus's system announced. A good four stops away, Astrid tucked the file back into her briefcase. She hoped it would be an open and shut kind of situation where she wrote up the will and left. If the articles Astrid had read were any indication of Magdalena's personality, the no-nonsense former lawyer wouldn't waste time with small talk. Not that she didn't enjoy her occasional chatty client, but Astrid had places to be today. She was familiar with her afternoon clients and knew they didn't like to wait.
Astrid jumped when the bus announced her station. She straightened her blazer, picked up her briefcase, and hustled out of the bus. As she exited, she bumped into a well-dressed man who gave her a brief frown. She shivered under his harsh glare as he passed by. Astrid's feet hit the pavement and she started to stride away from the bus, her attention still captured by the angry businessmen. He stared at her through the bus window, his glare unwavering as the bus moved on.
That was weird, Astrid thought. So far she was two for two with strange men on public transport. At this rate, she seriously considered taking a Lyft back to her office once this meeting was done.
Magdalena Russo lived two blocks east of the Snelling and Summit intersection. Astrid kept her pace steady, walking briskly. She was well within her five-minute delay and didn't want to make a bad impression on the wealthy lawyer. Astrid tried to gather herself wits on the way. The businessman on the bus shook her more than she realized even though it was just a glare.
Astrid scolded herself for getting distracted by strangers and walked up the extensive front driveway. By now the house was in view. The house was smaller than she expected, presumably three stories tall with white stucco walls. The roof was made from red brick shingles, aging but still well kept. The front door gave Astrid a better glimpse at the family's wealth, as she pulled the ornate dragon knocker and hit it against the door.
An older man dressed in a traditional suit and tie opened the door for her. "Are you Miss Astrid Pfeiffer?" He rasped.
"Yes sir," Astrid said, her usually well-hidden Southern drawl coming back for a moment. "I'm here to see Magdalena Russo."
"Hmmm," the man said, peering down at her over his thick round glasses. He fixated on her eyes, trying to look through her. "Indeed you are."
He opened the door for her and waited for her to get inside before letting the door slam shut on its own. "Miss Russo is in the day lounge. Follow me, if you would." He put his hands behind his back and led her down the hallway.
Astrid did her best not to stare at the black marble staircase to her right, or the old oil paintings lining the wall to her left. The front hallway itself probably cost more than Astrid's entire apartment. Though she kept a straight face, her stomach sank the more of the house she saw. There was always a little part of her that hated visiting her wealthy clients. It was a quiet, subtle reminder the world she came from was nothing like this.
The butler brought her into the day lounge, a large room with one wall covered entirely in windows. Astrid gazed outside, looking down at the garden below the house. Vines twisted around trellises and bushes of roses lined the pavement. If there was one thing she could appreciate about wealthy homes, it was how careful they were with their gardens. She grew up with a forest as her backyard in the foothills of North Carolina. The outdoors were her home, far from the urban jungle she lived in now.
"My youngest grandson likes to keep the garden," a withered voice said, startling Astrid. Magdalena Russo guiding a motorized wheelchair to Astrid's side. She looked frailer than she did in the photos. "Lorenzo has always had a special touch with nature. It's what made him stand out against his brothers. Christian was the charismatic one, Giovanni was the sharp one, but little Lorenzo was the one with the heart."
"He has talent," Astrid nodded. She turned and presented her hand to Magdalena. "I'm Astrid Pfeiffer."
Magdalena took Astrid's hand with her own. For a 95-year-old woman, her grip was incredibly firm. For a brief minute, she scrutinized Astrid without letting go of her hand. "You're here for my will." Magdalena finally stated rather than asked. She wheeled away before Astrid could respond. The Russo matriarch stopped in front of an oak wood coffee table. "I don't have all day, you know. "
"Of course." Astrid took a seat across from her in a cushy blue armchair whilst the older woman surveyed the garden. She opened her briefcase on the coffee table and removed a legal pad and a pen. "My notes state you have three children and seven grandchildren. Were you hoping to divide your estate amongst them?" Waiting for her answer, she began to write out the names of each potential heir.
The older woman clicked her tongue. "My daughters have already received their inheritance from their grandmother." Astrid crossed out the three daughters from the list. "I elect to divide my properties amongst the six grandchildren."
Astrid looked up from her notes. "Forgive me, Miss Russo, but I thought you had seven grandchildren."
"Did I stutter?" Magdalena asked sharply. "I may have seven grandchildren by blood, but I will claw my way out of my grave if Matilde sees a penny of my money. That rotten little girl does not have a shred of respect for our family legacy."
Maintaining a straight face, Astrid crossed Matilde's name off the list. "What about the rest of them?"
Magdalena pursed her lips. "The eldest, Beatrice, is to receive this estate and the grounds surrounding it. Upon the final reading of this will, she's to move in immediately."
A str
ange requirement, Astrid thought as she jotted it down.
"Her sister Nicole will inherit my summer homes in Waupaca, Wisconsin," Magdalena continued.
"Was that summer homes plural?" Astrid asked. Magdalena didn't speak, choosing only to raise an eyebrow and look down at Astrid from her seat. "Got it," she said.
The woman tapped her nails on the arm of her wheelchair. "Christian will receive all of my bond holdings, which he is to immediately invest in his company." She must have noted the quick wrinkle in Astrid's brow. "How familiar are you with the Bright Daze clothing company?"
Astrid nodded. It was a recent upstart in downtown Minneapolis that focused on employing low income youth and young adults. Bright Daze was three blocks away from her office, so she passed it on her way to work every day. "Christian owns Bright Daze?"
"Correct, Alice," Magdalena said, examining Astrid.
"Sorry, ma'am, but my name is Astrid." The solicitor didn't bother looking up, knowing the old woman would be giving her one of those 'you heard me' looks. Astrid instead tried to skip over the awkward moment. "So, Christian receives your investments."
"Indeed." Magdalena wheeled closer to the table and picked up a handbell. She rang it, before saying, "His twin brother, Giovanni, is to receive ownership of my former law office. He's already working at Russo and Yuma. If he won't step up on his own, I'll force him to."
Astrid scribbled down 'CEO' next to Giovanni's name. "Next would be Irene."
For a moment, a warm smile crossed Magdalena's face. "Irene is to receive my private jewel collection, which makes up half the contents of my vault. The rest of the collection will be hers to donate to a charity of her choice."
Astrid nodded. That one was very kind. It was good to know at least one of Magdalena's grandchildren would be using their wealth for something good. She supposed Bright Daze was a decent business venture as well, but Astrid preferred a more direct approach. "Lorenzo's last. The gardener, right?"