“I’m sorry about what happened to you.”
Her head droops as the reminder hurts her in a way I don’t plan, but I’m pissed this occurred. She needs to move forward, out of the mental place she is in, whether she is ready or not.
Bravely, I slowly inch closer and scoop her broken body up in my arms. She doesn’t flail or fight as I carry her, piss soaked blanket and all to the bathroom. Setting her on her feet, I turn off the water and peel the clothes from her body. I don’t look at her like a victim or a survivor, but a woman I’m interested in. I didn’t plan on seeing her naked, but I’m gentleman enough to care for her.
I’m not dead though and her body earns a mischievous grin from my lips, garnering her attention. “You know you are like one of the most eligible baseball players in the country. I think a lot of girls would be jealous of where I am, Abel.”
Caught staring, I chuckle as I help her into the water. “Are you okay?”
“Please don’t go,” she urges, latching her hands onto my arm. “Please…”
“Let me go grab your tea, sweetheart.”
She nods as I briefly leave.
After handing her the cup, I make myself comfortable on the floor and we drink. She sips the warm liquid and that is positive progress. We sit in silence for a good while until I ask, “Why did you start talking?”
“Because I realized Map Parker isn’t going to hurt me.”
“Never,” I concur, scooting closer and offering her my hand. “I’ve got you, girl.”
Her tongue darts over the cut on her lip. “You were there on the tarmac when I got off the plane.”
“Yeah,” I admit, feeling profiled by the beat up agent. She remembers—everything. And that concerns me because I know that can only mean one thing—she remembers all of the good and bad. “I developed a quiet crush on you over the last few months since I saw you at graduation.”
Standing at the bar in her royal blue dress with her hair all spun up, she turned to the door and gave me an unforgettably perfect smile. I lost everything three months prior, but she silenced the demons for a half second, reigniting the promise of a future, and that meant the world to me. I clung to the brief passage as it helped get my ass out of bed every morning for the season.
After darkness, there is light.
When Sal told me she’d been taken, I went to Sugargrove and subsequently, to the command center he’d set up in Nebraska. I finished the season, but traveled separately from the team—back and forth to Nebraska during the entire month of September as I anxiously awaited word. I paced the floor for the subsequent two months until Sal finally called me on November 25 with the best news I’ve ever heard.
“We got her, Abel.”
I didn’t ask him or her for the details because they didn’t matter. They were in the past, just like my hurts. All she can do is move forward and no one understands that better than me. And perhaps it is my avoidance of rehashing the past which led to placing his recently trafficked partner in my care. I don’t want the gory accounting of the last three months; I just need to make her okay today.
“… Is that why I’m here?”
“You’re here because I like you. You’re here because one of your smiles carried me through an entire season of baseball. You were my guardian angel,” I honestly admit as she takes my hand. “You’re here because if anyone so much as tries to get in my door, I’ll put a bullet in them faster than a fucking lightning bolt.”
She almost giggles as she takes a sip of the tea. “Who suggested I stay with you?”
I scoot closer and run the back of my fingers over her cheek. “Who do you think?”
“Sal.”
“Should I call you Pris or Jaid?”
A hint of hope rises on her lips as she whispers, “You can call me whatever you would like, Map.”
Keep the mind open to new possibilities.
76
The Angel's Devil
IRIS AMARIE KETTLES
(: aka, the future MRS. RANIERO :)
Revealing everything is not necessary.
In the Presidential Suite of the finest hotel in Hong Kong, I prepare for the evening. My slick red nails, perfect makeup, and fluffed hair were done earlier by one of the experienced girls from Thread. Her name is Kali Ose, part of the Lotus family, assigned to care for me. Maybe I should define “care for me.”
At thirty-five, Kali is a lethal combination of dangerous street smarts and calculated persuasion. Thai and gorgeous with the kind of beauty that should be criminal, Kali is also as sweet as they come.
She’s about to help me dress in the winter white gown with gold trim. It’s a bit ornate for my tastes, but my father insists this haute couture display is for the best. I’ve been meticulously polished, brushed, and sprayed for hours until I no longer give off the frumpy poet vibe (or even submissive in training.)
Frankly, looking in the mirror, I feel more like a princess captured within the confines, like the porcelain doll a particular man often refers to me as.
The rainbow jeweled butterfly barrettes are securely glued to my tangled mess of black and deep auburn locks, and I’m worried they may never come out. I’m sitting in my lace and silk undergarments—ice white bra with matching panties, garter, stockings, and a pair of clear pumps with many thick rhinestone dangles around my ankles.
I grab the diamond cuffs from Ella Hemsworth and the ring from the man I love more than anyone but am furious with at the moment. With an anxious breath, I ask, “Can you take a few pictures?”
“Surely,” Kali says as I pose on the pink padded chair in front of the makeup table. I flirt with a few of my best suggestive and seductive moves, and she snaps away on my phone.
“Thank you,” I say, setting the phone down as she takes the gown from the padded hanger. “I’m so fucking nervous.”
“You shouldn’t be,” she says with a warm smile. “It’s just a dinner party of your grandfather’s best friends. These are people you need to meet, associates…alliances. The Lotus family.”
“Or enemies,” I laugh as she fastens the gown around me. “Just wait, I’ll fall down the second I walk in.”
“No, you won’t, Iris,” she reassures, planting a kiss on my lips. “But you’re going to be late if we don’t go.”
Spotting the ripped open wedding invitation embossed with a country-flair, I grab my phone and sheer white cape. I find the whole country love thing nauseating. My Prince Charming is engaged to some podunk from the backwoods—note engaged, not marrying…not yet anyway.
We have a plan.
Will it work?
I don’t know.
I scroll out a bitchy response and start clicking pictures to send in an email across the sea as we ride down the elevator. I pause, hit the button, and wait for the confirmation of the email. I hand Kali my phone at floor five.
“I’ll need a pack of Camels and a bottle of Jim Beam when I get back to the room. I’m going to want to be alone. Turn off all of the devices.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kali snickers with a giggle. “Anything else?”
“No,” I reply as the elevator doors open. Immediately, I spot my father and grandfather. I accept their kisses and offer the same as I pivot slightly to the bald man in the black shirt and cream suit. “Delarte…”
“You look ravishing!” He takes my fingertips and spreads my arms wide before embracing me tight.
“You came an awful long way for dinner,” I insinuate, kissing his cheek. “I hope it was worth it.”
“You’re always worth it, Iris…”
Jonathan Finkle’s eyes spark with an enticement as he leans closer. “I never thought I’d see you under these circumstances.” His eyes scan over my well done up appearance like he believes I don’t have it in me to pull off the position as the head of Lotus. His valuation of me is palpable. “You look irresistible.”
Never underestimate me, fucker.
Despite his insult, I maintain my composure and cattily counte
r, “Did you imagine any less? Because if you think a woman can’t negotiate or you thought I’d never undermine Raniero, you’ll be sadly mistaken.”
“I won’t be messing with you,” Fink humbly replies. “You look like a force to be reckoned with.”
“I always was,” I point out with a flick of my brow before taking Delarte’s arm. “Many just failed to open their eyes.”
“Excuse us, we’re going to have some champagne,” Delarte informs as the extended, armed Lotus crew edges closer to their prized possession. “Alone boys.”
The head of my private security team, Ho, asks, “Iris?”
“I’ll be fine,” I answer, lightly squeezing his fingers. I don’t fear being alone with Delarte Cristos—manipulator in negotiations and freak in the dungeon—absolutely, but he isn’t his son, or for that matter, his daughters. “Stay here.”
“We’ll be in the bar until dinner.” Delarte and I step into the elevator and disappear. “I never imagined you would take the spot.”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
Propped against the rail as we ride up the clear glass elevator, he acknowledges, “You weren’t born with a choice.”
“No, Sir…”
“And neither was Salvatore,” he bravely mutters as the mere sound of his name sends a chill through my spine. “Let me be the bastard to give you choice, Iris. Let love win, just this one time.”
“… You can do that?”
“You know I can.”
The bar on the twentieth floor is empty for us. The Cristal Champagne sits chilling in a bucket and soft jazz plays in the background. Delarte waves off the waiter and pours two champagne flutes. It says something profound that this man—this billionaire shipping magnate—is serving me, but I’m not a fool, everything comes with a price.
“To our merger, Ms. Nakamura.”
“This is far from a merger, Cristos, and we both know that. I bought the Casinos outright.”
“… Is the deal with Gennaro done?”
“Does it matter?” I ask, taking a sip of the bubbles. “It doesn’t concern you.”
“It does though,” he disputes, lighting a smoke. “Because my son is heavily involved in The Unholy and I want to insure his continued heartbeat.”
“I was heavily involved in The Unholy as well.”
“Don’t act like you have given up caring, Iris.”
With the turn in our conversation, I imagine Sal making it to the altar, saying I do, and me losing everything. Spinning away, I head for the balcony as the tears blossom in my eyes.
Don’t fucking ruin your makeup.
Trust. Commitment. Destiny.
All fucking easier said than done.
I breathe in the dreary night as the many lights of Hong Kong flicker in my puddles. The fog settles in amongst the slick streets gleaming with a rich blackness. The white cape billows around me as I dream of another time and place where a Dark Prince swoops in like a knight in shining armor and makes all of my new problems disperse with a snap of his fingers.
Delarte’s hands caress my bare shoulders. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but Sal loves you.”
Twirling like a tornado, I whip with assaulting words, playing up the lies and praying for his truth. “If he loved me, he wouldn’t be marrying in a matter of weeks. But he is. Lucas Salvatore Raniero is marrying Emily Lee Granger. And there is nothing I can do to stop any of it. I’ve been here…without him…for almost three years. We are through. We are over.”
Not everyone needs to know everything.
“He doesn’t love her,” Delarte contends, forcing the tears to fall from my eyes. He quickly blots my face with his handkerchief before handing it to me. “You may not acknowledge it, but Sal is in love with you.”
“If he truly loved me, he would have found a way out from underneath his father. But he didn’t do that. He stayed, playing their game and falling into some sort of wedding scheme to earn a badge within their ranks.”
“If you think his wedding will make the man, then you are wrong.”
“And if you know what the fuck he is doing, you should tell me now.” I wipe my nose and glance down at his missing fingers where the harshness of our violence collides with more splendor than I’ve ever known. “Before I line my path red from the razor sharpness of Lotus shurikens.”
Delarte gazes away, understanding the severity of the situation. “He’s moving the offspring.”
My mouth gapes open, bewildered by Sal’s actions which make no sense, or so Delarte believes. “… Is he fucking crazy? And why are you not acting on this?”
I know exactly where they are and what he is doing.
“I made a promise to Nico,” he says, smiling. “Kade, Raine, Merritt, and Romeo deserve a chance at a normal existence.”
“You’re breaking away from The Four Horsemen—two of which are dead!”
“There are still four,” he insists, trapping me within his frame. “Campanelli has been working closely with Raniero. Wendy Cruz is rebuilding her father’s unsavory business connections with their blessing, but I cannot handle more than one woman in a position of power, and I swore to stand by you. I will keep my promise to Salvatore until my last breath...maintaining your safety and position is paramount.”
“… What?”
“And that is why I’m leaving the Horsemen,” he says, rubbing his hand over mine. “I will not deal with Wendy Cruz. I imagine Cesario will attempt to have her eliminated in less than six months.”
“Does Deacon know?”
“I assume he does,” Delarte mutters, moving beside me. “But what can he do? He is running Reckless Rebellion, took his share, and walked away from the underworld dealings of his father. He chose. Just like we must all choose.”
“Any sign of Diablo?” He shakes his head. “Who is the fourth? Cesario Raniero, Marcello Campanelli, Wendy Cruz, and who?”
Gripping the rail, he blinks and says, “Gage Boudreaux.”
“Oh, Jesus…” I don’t need to ask what that means. Boudreaux managed to infiltrate more of the South with the help of the Allegiance. Dom will walk into a field full of landmines down there. “… And Houston?”
“Still being contested, but I’m holding off Immortal for now.”
“Who is going after it, Delarte?”
“Who do you think?”
“I would assume Sal, but I certainly hope not.” I gasp again, truly shocked and not realizing he had grown The Unholy to such a substantial size. I assumed they were scraping the bottom of the barrel as they’ve been so quiet on the international scene in the past year.
“Cesario is going to battle for it, but there is one more thing, Iris…one more very important thing.”
“What?” I sigh with frustration and brace my fingertips on my forehead, concealing part of my turmoil. “Could any of this get any worse?”
“You need to come home.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because he is getting the support of his motherland.”
Oh. Fuck.
I’m hyperventilating from the information, stunned through to my soul, and unable to comprehend how he managed to garner the attention of The Commission with their Omertà codes. “How the hell did Sal do that?”
“Two words—” he mutters, wrapping his arm around me, “Nereza Ravenna.”
I cover my mouth, fearing what may come out or up. “… And his initiation into their society?”
“It’s already completed,” he says as I feel the bile burning the back of my throat. Sal completed a contract killing for the sake of belonging. Made man. I know what it means—he’s in way deep, but they bought it all—lock, stock, and barrel. I turn away, into the wind, and feel the cool, thick breeze calm my nerves as I want to jump up and down and scream—Hallelujah. “The Commission would like you to return home as a gesture of good will.”
“… Me?”
“You are the figurehead,” he thoughtfully whispers. “You are th
e ambassador of the East, my dear. This is the responsibility of the position you have inherited.”
Waves of nausea gurgle in my throat as I run inside through the bar to the lavish restroom. Sliding on the wooden floor, I barely make it into the stall before the glass of champagne spills into the sparkling bowl. I’m hurling when I hear the light tap at the door and Kali’s sweet, effervescent voice asking, “Ms. Nakamura, are you okay?”
“I need to know if you have the ability to travel to the United States, Kali.”
“We can get it for her in a week or so,” Cristos says as I open the door. “We can get you home with your tactical team ready to launch a full-on war with the family if necessary.”
I don’t have to ask why Sal did it. I already know. He did it to build his reputation and earn my grandfather’s approval. The Commission and Lotus will not cause mass bloodshed because the loss of funds and money is everything when sitting in the royal court. Essentially, Sal’s new ties to the mafia made him a King fit for one Lotus flower and our union would solidify the actions of many.
Sal is still in love with me and his clandestine actions say as much.
“I love you more than words…”
“We have less than three weeks,” I mumble to Kali as I wipe my mouth. “Send my RSVP—Iris Amarie Nakamura will be in attendance for both the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Now, clean me up because I must have dinner with the Oceania leaders of Lotus.”
“Yes, my Empress.”
Delarte brushes against my back and whispers, “Good girl, Iris.”
“Always, Sir,” I whisper with a smile. “Always.”
Revealing everything is not necessary.
Blows the dandelion with a kiss and winks.
You didn’t think I would let you get away, did you? For a good time, call me.
77
The Infinite Lair
I. AM. SALVATORE.
Kindred spirits are the most protective
Every Minute I Love You (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 3) Page 63