by Sweet, Izzy
“The Yakuza.”
“Shit, how do we know?”
“Because they took it during the war up there. Even bragged about it to those around them—least that’s what I am hearing. It seems like they are trying to make sure they haven’t lost any face on the issue. Still could be Marshall though.” Simon says, and I don’t doubt a word he has said to me.
Simon is my right hand for this exact reason, he has a nose for things. The man is like a bloodhound dog, he doesn’t stop tracking a scent until he has it up a tree.
“Do they know it’s my money?” I ask as I think about Marshall and how fucked up of a position he has me in.
“I’m not sure of that yet, but I am making small waves around the pond to see what comes up.”
“Where is Marshall so far with everything?”
“Drunk. Fall down, passing out drunk in his shitty little world of self-appreciation. Seems he is bragging to a few people about how he pulled one over on you. He’s been drinking and whoring for the last twenty-four hours.”
“With what money?” I ask with a growl.
“Credit cards and whatever he has in the banks.”
“Get his accounts closed or frozen, I want him as broke as possible by tomorrow morning.”
“Got it. What do you want me to do with the connection to O’Riley?”
I ponder that for a long moment. I know I can go to the Irish for restitution but they will more than likely play dumb on the whole situation. The question for me is do I want to go stirring the pot with them or with the Yakuza?
“Do the same thing for both the Yakuza and the Irish. Try the Italians as well. If nothing comes of them knowing it was my money that was lost, see if we can set up a meet. Do not come off as a beggar, Simon. Let them know we expect answers to the questions we have.”
“Matthew, I don’t think we can afford a war on those fronts,” he says as he looks at me. He isn’t afraid to use my birth name with me, but he knows to only do it when he has to.
“There won’t be one. Right now, I want more information on what exactly happened to the money and the drugs that it bought.”
“And the Irish?”
“Let’s see what happens there. I’m not going over to Ohio to start a war with those fucks when I have two other ones on my front here. I want you to keep a watch out, though. If they have problems, we might be able to work our way into some new territory.”
Simon nods his head and then heads out of the office, shutting the door behind him.
Turning away from my desk, I look out the corner office window to the sprawling city below me.
The Irish will play up the dumb card, then more than likely tell me to fuck off in a polite way.
The Yakuza, if they do have the money, will tell me it’s my loss their gain. I can’t see either giving back what’s mine.
My left hand lifts and I stare at the emerald pinky ring I am wearing. It’s the only thing I have left of my father that I haven’t changed. When the stroke took his body and the ability to function away from him, I took over the day to day operations of all his enterprises.
He’d more than likely go to war over all of this.
He was a complete fucking fool with how he ran his businesses. He truly thought he could run them the old school way forever—always hiding in the shadows of one shady business or another.
I couldn’t deal with his small frame of mind. He wanted to keep all of his people controlled, he would never allow us the chance to branch out, to do new and better things.
We were fucking stuck in the dark ages of thought and freedom.
What a stupid fuck. Putting the pillow to his face ended so many exasperating headaches.
I brought us into the dawn of a new age. We dropped all the shackles that held us back for far too long. I introduced so many things to our operations that a lot of the old men feared me out of ignorance. Those fucks are all dead and buried now, and so will be any asshole that tries to get in my way.
Out of all the plain, stupid ones, Father had one brilliant idea—he sent me to school to get an education in business. My education allowed me to see new and better ways to operate. It gave me the knowledge of how to remain a criminal but get away with it. Fuck, all corporations operate in the gray and black at one time or other, they just don’t admit it.
The best thing I ever did was put a retainer on the top legal defense law firms in the nation. I have no desire to ever spend any time in jail much less prison. So, going to war and killing a bunch of turds doesn’t exactly appeal to me right now.
Smirking, I remember one of my business lectures talking about mergers, takeovers and hostile takeovers.
Turning back to my desk, I dial Simon’s cell phone.
“Lucifer, what’s going on?”
“Have someone consider all the properties and businesses we can find that are run by the Italians and the Japanese. I want as much information as we can get on them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Disconnecting the call, I look down at the photo on my desk. I took it from the collection Lilith had at her home. It has her and the children all smiling in the photo, looking so happy.
No prison time for me, it would ruin my plans with her. If anyone or anything try to come between me and her, they will die a very violent death.
Government or gang thug, makes no difference to me.
12
Lily
I wake up to the first rays of the morning light streaming through the curtains and Lucifer bending over me, kissing me on the cheek.
“The nanny will be arriving later this morning,” he says softly, his minty breath cool against the spot he just kissed.
I blink sleepily up at him, reluctantly leaving my dreams where I was warm, safe, and happy.
All at once awareness hits me and I remember where I am.
I remember what happened last night. What we did.
He held me in his arms and I must have cried myself to sleep.
Suddenly modest, I yank the sheets up my naked body and croak out, “Nanny?”
Nodding his head slowly, he straightens and stares down at me. He’s already dressed for the day in his impeccable black suit and he smells clean, like soap.
I feel… lowly as he towers over me in the dim light. He seems even more intimidating today after everything we did last night. He knows I’m weak to him and he’s empowered by it.
“Yes, I’ve hired a nanny to help you.”
“I don’t need a nanny,” I immediately protest and begin to sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest.
“Regardless,” he smirks. “She’ll be arriving around eleven.”
I hate it when he talks like that. The way he says it leaves no room to question him. “Have a good day, Lilith. I’ll see you at dinner.”
His eyes search my face as if he’s expecting me to say or do something but I just stare at him, unsure if I should let this nanny thing slide or make a stink about it.
Maybe having a nanny around won’t be such a bad thing… it could give me more time to figure a way out of this. On the other hand, though, she’s another pair of eyes to keep watch on me and the children.
Nodding, Lucifer shoves his hands into his pockets and turns on his heel. He’s striding out of the room when I call out to him, “Lucifer?”
Immediately he comes to a stop and turns around, almost as if he was expecting me to call out to him. “Yes?”
“May I have my phone back?” I ask hopefully. I’m completely isolated without it, disconnected from the outside world. And maybe, hopefully, after last night, he trusts me a little bit.
“No,” he answers coldly, and turns on his heel.
I’m so shocked I watch him walk out of the room without stopping him.
* * *
After my morning shower, I’m half tempted to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a dirty old t-shirt just to spite him, but decide I’m more likely to get what I want if I try to please him. Maybe if I make an effort
he’ll reward me for it.
After having that thought I immediately feel a little sick.
This entire situation is so fucked up, and after what we did last night I’m having an even harder time trying to come to terms with it. I don’t know what I want.
Do I want out of here? Do I truly want to escape? Or do I want to stay… even if it requires me to be something he owns. Another possession to add to his collection.
If he was mean, if he hurt me, or threatened my children, it would be such an easy decision. It would be so easy to hate him.
But he’s not.
If anything, sadly, he’s shown more interest in us, done more for us in a mere twenty-four hours than Marshall ever did.
He’s shown me more kindness, care, and affection than the man I chose to marry ever has. How fucked up is that?
It’s almost worth trading away my free will for… almost. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll ever be happy being kept like I’m a pet.
I dig through the boxes of clothes I still haven’t hung up, searching for something that shows that I’m putting in a bit of effort but doesn’t scream I’m trying too hard. I end up settling on a cream sweater dress and pair it with my favorite brown riding boots.
I curl my hair and slap on some makeup. I have to admit to myself it feels good to be dressed up for the day. I don’t feel like I need to hide behind my sunglasses.
Waking up the children, I help them get dressed then lead them downstairs for breakfast. The cook has a complete spread of pancakes, bacon, sausage, and fruit waiting for us. We sit down together in the dining room and dig in.
Evelyn seems especially sunny today, bouncing in her seat and happily nibbling on bacon.
“How did you sleep last night?” I ask her.
“Great!” she smiles at me.
Whenever she smiles at me I can’t help but smile back. Regardless of how bad things are, or what kind of stresses I have hanging over my head, her bright smiles make everything worth it.
Adam, on the other hand, is unusually quiet. He just pokes at his food, not eating much.
“How did you sleep last night, Adam?” I ask him.
He shrugs his shoulders without looking up at me.
Just as I’m about to ask Adam what’s bothering him, Peter strides into the dining room and informs us it’s time to leave for school. Standing from the table, we gather up their bags and lunches and head out to the car.
Stepping outside and seeing the guarded gate at the end of the long driveway just drives home how much this place feels like a prison. Peter opens up the back passenger side door for us and the children obediently climb in.
I have the quick, sickening thought that I’m teaching them this is normal. I’m teaching them that I’m okay with this.
Noticing the look on my face, Peter lifts both of his brows at me. “Is something wrong?”
How do I even explain it? Would he even care if I did?
Pressing my lips together, I shake my head and slide in after the children.
* * *
After dropping the children off at their schools, Peter immediately drives me back to the house.
With no housework to do and no way to catch up on my social media, I have nothing else to do but unpack.
Unpacking though feels like giving in. It feels like I’m accepting this.
I dig out more of the children’s essentials and leave the rest sitting in the boxes.
The nanny arrives exactly at eleven o’clock, just like he said she would, and I’m relieved to find she’s a sweet, older woman. She’s very polite when she introduces herself as Mary and I place her in her mid to late fifties with her gray hair and dated clothing.
Awkwardly, I’m not sure how to introduce myself in return so I simply give her my name and hope she doesn’t inquire further about this situation. Thankfully, she doesn’t refer to me as Lucifer’s wife, nor does she seem to imply that he’s the father of the children.
I honestly don’t know how I’d respond if she assumed that.
I show her to the children’s rooms, their things, and go over our routine. She takes it all in with a smile on her face and when I’m done, I have the craziest urge to tell her the truth.
How will she react if I confess we’re being held prisoner against our will? Will she offer assistance? Or will she go running to Lucifer to tell him?
I have to assume everyone he’s hired he’s thoroughly vetted and they’re loyal to him. But what if she’s not? She seems too kind, too old to be in cahoots with the likes of him.
As we’re walking out of Adam’s room and I’m shutting the door quietly behind us, I ask casually, “So how long have you been a nanny?”
Mary smiles at me and her gray eyes twinkle with amusement. “For more than thirty years, dear. I was Matthew’s nanny when he was a boy.”
I almost ask her who Matthew is but then catch myself. Isn’t that what Lucifer told Adam his name was yesterday, when we were in the kitchen?
Of course he’d hire his childhood nanny. So much for appearances. If this woman helped raise him she must be half as evil as he is.
And now she’s going to be taking care of my children.
“Something wrong?” she asks, reaching over to pat me on the arm, still acting sweet.
I bet she’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
I shake my head, clearing the thoughts from my head and force a smile to my lips. “I’m sorry, I just can’t believe you were Matthew’s nanny. You look so young.”
She laughs and looks genuinely pleased by my compliment. “Ah, well he’s not quite that old, and I was quite young when I was hired.”
“Oh?” I ask as we make our way downstairs.
She nods her head and gets a wistful look in her eyes. “Yes. I was in my early twenties when I was hired by his father.”
“What was Lu… I mean Matthew like when he was a boy?”
“Oh, he was a very serious boy. Even back then he was taking an interest in the family business.”
“I’m sorry.” I stop and turn to her as we reach the bottom of the stairs. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten. What exactly is the family business?” I ask.
What are American gangsters calling it these days?
She gives me a look like I’m stupid and I should already know this. Patting me on the hand again, like one does with a child, she says, “Acquisitions.”
13
Lily
When it’s time to pick the children up for school, Mary insists on accompanying me to learn the routine. Perhaps I’m turning into a paranoid, overly suspicious person, but I’m afraid that this is something she means to take over from me. My only two trips out of the house on a daily basis.
We pick up Adam first and of course he’s cold towards Mary in the beginning but she seems unfazed by it. She doesn’t try to force or coax him into conversation and eventually he warms to her. Posing at her several questions in curiosity.
Evelyn, as to be expected, is delighted to have a new friend, and spends the rest of the car drive home regaling Mary about her day at school and all the exciting adventures she had.
Once we return to the house, Mary takes over just as I feared, and I’m left with nothing to do as she sees to the children.
With nothing else to do, I float in and out of the kitchen, checking on Rosa and dinner’s progress. When I start trying to help set the table for dinner, Rosa chases me away, flapping a dish towel at me and speaking rapidly in Italian
Bored and depressed, I return to my room and begin to unpack my boxes. I’m hanging up some of my clothes in Lucifer’s closet when I sense someone behind me.
Freezing in place, I stiffen as two arms wrap around me from behind then Lucifer’s face is nuzzling into my neck.
He sucks in a deep breath, breathing me in. At the same time, I feel all the tension go out of him, his body deflates. Relaxing, he melds against my back.
Brushing my hair over my shoulder, his breath is warm against my ear as
he asks, “How was your day?”
Horrible. Awful.
“Boring,” I sigh and stretch up to hang the silk blouse in my hand.
Lucifer takes this as an opportunity to roam his hands up and over my breasts. As I lower back down to the floor, his hands cover my breasts completely, cupping them in his big hands.
My traitorous body responds instantly, flushing with heat and my nipples tightening.
“So was mine,” he purrs and his teeth nip at my earlobe. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”
I swallow back my moan and try to fight my reaction to him. I will my blood to cool, for my breasts not to be so sensitive.
Think of awful things. Horrible things.
His tongue licks at my lobe and then his lips are kissing down my neck.
Think of how awful he is; not how sexy he is.
I try but I keep failing.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about these tits.”
He squeezes my breasts hard in his hands. My toes curl against the floor and I have to fight the urge to arch my back.
“Fuck, you have amazing tits,” he pants and then something hard is grinding into my ass.
Oh god, why do I have to like this? Why is this making me wet? What is wrong with me?
His fingers find my nipples through my bra and they pinch.
I hate how I’m responding to him. I hate how my hips rock back and my core clenches.
“And this ass. I love your juicy little ass.”
I hate how my skin breaks out in gooseflesh. I hate how my heart quickens.
One hand leaves my breast and slowly slides down my stomach. “Did you think about me, Lilith?” he asks.
“No,” I grit out from between my teeth. I’ve only been trapped in the house all day; how could I not think about him?
He laughs and his hand slides lower and lower. Fingers pausing on top of my mons, he growls. “I couldn’t stop thinking about your pink little pussy and how good you taste.”
Grabbing the bottom of my dress, he yanks it up.