Blood Money: A Captive Romance (The Dirty Money Duet Book 2)

by BL Mute

  I feel cold sweats break out over my body, making my skin feel sticky and clammy. The muscles in my legs tighten, like they’re getting ready to run, but I can’t move. How can I? If I leave now, there will be no fixing this. Not only would Cyrus be on the losing end, but I would too.

  “We have to find William and get out of here,” I say, starting toward the door. “Just long enough to come up with a new plan.”

  He stops me, grabbing my arm. “Carmen, I think it’s too late for a new plan. Hatcher took care of Michael, which will only let Ghost know we’re onto him—that we know what he knows.”

  I shake my head and pull out of his hold. “We have to do something. We can’t just sit around and wait. So, you’re either with me or you’re not.”

  I level my eyes with his, waiting for him to protest, but he doesn’t. “You know I won’t let you do this alone.”

  “Then let’s go.” I exit the office and make my way back down the steps. On my way to the kitchen, I look around, making sure William hasn’t happened to come home. When I don’t see any sign of him, I go straight to the garage.

  “Where are you going?” Cyrus calls behind me.

  “The greenhouse. If he isn’t inside, he’s out there. He spends most of his time there.”

  When I open the garage door, the lights buzz to life. Each of Alexander’s cars sits in its normal spot. The red Ferrari front and center with a yellow Koenigsegg Regera to its left and a white McLaren to its right. Not only that, but his Mercedes is behind them. The Mercedes that is only ever parked here when he’s home.

  When I pause, Cyrus comes closer behind me so he can whisper in my ear. “What’s wrong? What do you see?”

  “The Mercedes in the back. It’s never here unless he is.”

  I can feel his body tense behind mine before he pushes himself in front of me and makes me follow. With every step we take, making our way out of the garage and to the greenhouse, my heart sinks. If Alexander is here, the only place he can be is the greenhouse.

  Raindrops strike my body and run down my exposed skin. Each one that hits my face feels like needles. I can feel them cling to my eyelashes for a split second before breaking free and obscuring my vision, but I don’t let it stop me.

  Ever since finding out what Alexander kept from me, I had thoughts of what I would say when I saw him again. I’d probably yell and tell him exactly how I see him, but at this very moment, I feel weak. All the questions I thought I knew I wanted answers to have left my mind, and all that’s left is sadness with a twinge of anger.

  If he would have been honest in the beginning, I feel my life would have been better. I wouldn’t have sought validation or craved an escape through men if he was out of the picture. And I wouldn’t be in the mess I am now.

  When we make it to the greenhouse doors, I pause. Inside is dark, and the glass is foggy from the rain, but I can see the dark silhouette of someone moving around. I wait a moment to see if anyone else appears, but no one does. Turning back to Cyrus, I hold out my hand and lay it flat on his chest. “Wait out here. I’m going to need to give him some sort of explanation as to what’s going on, and I think it’s best if I do that alone.”

  “I don’t like this,” he remarks.

  “Look.” I point over my shoulder with my thumb, making sure to keep my voice low. “You can see inside. Just let me try to ease him into all this shit, then we will leave. Okay?”

  He shakes his head but doesn’t try to fight. Slipping off to the right, he tucks himself behind a bush. Waving his gun in the direction of the door, he speaks again. “If he’s not alone, I’m coming in.”

  I nod and step closer to the door. Opening it and stepping inside, I don’t feel the same relief I used to. Maybe it’s because the plants are dormant for the night or the lack of sunshine, but it feels gloomy and cold.

  “William?” I call out to the figure.

  When he turns and walks toward me, I relax the slightest bit. If nothing else comes of all this, at least he’ll know the truth. But when he stops a few feet in front of me and opens his mouth, I know I’ve been mistaken. It isn’t William.

  “Mija.” His voice is raspy like it’s strained, but his thick accent still makes an appearance.

  I shake my head and take a step back toward the door, making sure I’m close enough to open it and run if need be. “Don’t call me that,” I spit.

  He tips his head, stepping even closer so the moon illuminates his features just enough for me to see. “Oh, but you are mine, Carmen. It was me who raised you. Me who took care of you and bought you everything you could ever need. If that isn’t a father, then what is?” He smirks.

  “You were never a father to me, and now it all makes sense. I’m sure you know what I know at this point, so let’s not beat around the bush. Tell me why.”

  “Why what?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me. You’ve already ruined my life, so tell me what I want to know.”

  He stares at me, bringing his hand to his chin like he’s thinking. “You know why I did what I did, but that isn’t why you’re here, and we both know it. Tell me what you really want, Carmen.”

  When I don’t answer, he advances more. I hold out my hand, hoping it will stop him. “No. Stay there. I don’t want you any closer.”

  That makes him smile. “Is it because you’re scared?”

  The tremble in my outstretched hand says yes, but my brain won’t let me say it. “No. I’ve dealt with bigger monsters than you. People who make you seem naive and stupid,” I hiss.

  “You mean Cyrus? Or maybe you’re talking about his friend Hatcher. I always knew they both had a lot of potential, but seeing as they’ve failed my tests, it’s clear I was wrong. I was hoping I could make something out of you, but I’m not so sure, seeing as you’ve already proved you’re untrustworthy by running off with Cyrus. Where is he, by the way?”

  My face scrunches as he moves forward. I take step after step backward slowly, doing my best to keep my eyes on him all while maintaining my distance. “What are you talking about?” I ignore his question about Cyrus. Clearly he’s been busy, or he would have seen him with me.

  “Have you not put the pieces together yet, mija?”

  I try to think, but with him trying to close the gap between us, it makes it hard. “You work for Ghost too, don’t you?”

  He finally stops with a smile on his face. “No. I don’t work for anyone.”

  I think back to all his business trips—how he’s always gone and has so many people keeping tabs on me the best he can. William, the staff at his hotels. I think about his weird obsession with home security—how there are cameras in every room with not only video but sound too. And then there is the money… Sure, running hotels is profitable, but wouldn’t a lot of the money be put back into them? Maintenance, upgrades, employee paychecks. How is it even after all of that, he’s able to afford all the things he has?

  Then it clicks. “You’re Ghost.”

  Now him letting me go so easily makes sense. He wanted to see if I would follow through with my end of the deal, only he didn’t need me to report back because he would see it firsthand.

  “I always knew you were smart.” He starts moving again, and I do the same.

  As I pass by one of the tables, I pick up the pruning shears and tuck them behind my back. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “You wanted answers, didn’t you? It’s unfortunate you won’t be here much longer to do anything with them, but at least you’ll know.”

  “So you’re going to kill me. Is that it?”

  He nods, still slithering toward me. “Yes, then I’ll find Cyrus. Michael is already handling Hatcher, so he won’t be an issue. Then, my business can go back to normal.”

  “Why keep me around for eighteen years just to kill me now?” I don’t really want to know, but I figure the more I can keep him talking, the longer I’ll live. And once he’s next to the door, it’s game over.

  “I didn’t keep you
alive for me. I did it for William. What you may not know is he wasn’t always a butler. He used to work at the Annalee—you can assume that’s how he and your mother met. I delegated him to run things in my absence, seeing as he had a strong work ethic. Your mother, being the fox she was, caught his eye. She thought she could hide what they were doing, but you can see that didn’t happen.

  “Once she was gone and I had you, William went off the deep end, binging with booze and drugs, so I made him a proposition. I told him what I did and showed him what I was capable of to keep him in line, then told him he could come live in my home and care for you, but he wasn’t allowed to mention our little secret. He hurt me by stealing my woman, so I was going to hurt him by raising the last piece of her there was as my own.

  “You were never supposed to find out, but I knew it would happen. William came to me a couple weeks ago saying he couldn’t do it anymore, that you deserved to know, and he was going to tell you.”

  “If he knew, why not just end him? Seems like it would have been the easiest thing to do.”

  He shakes his head. “Because the pain from death is minuscule compared to having to live with a secret you can’t tell. I didn’t want his life. I wanted his agony.”

  My face morphs to terror. All my life, I thought I somehow had Alexander figured out. He cared about cars, money, and women, but turns out I don’t know him at all.

  “Where does Cyrus fall into all this?” I ask because that’s the only thing I can’t figure out.

  “He doesn’t. I’ve known who he was all along, but I wanted to see if he had what it took to do what I do. He thrived for years, and I thought about promoting him, but he had to pass one last test. If he could take the hit on his brother, I knew he would be the perfect man to replace Michael. Only, he wouldn’t, and then you got involved, and it made everything messy. You were always good at creating a mess, weren’t you? I mean, just look at what you did with that teacher you had. Asquerosa.”

  Disgusting.

  “Someone from my blood would never do something so foul,” he spits.

  I lower my eyes and sneer. “I may be disgusting, but at least I don’t have the blood of thousands on my hands. Was it worth it, Alexander?” I ask when I see the door behind him start to creep open. He doesn’t even know it, but he’s exactly where I want him. He can say all he wants, but it won’t change what’s about to happen. “All the blood money you’ve accepted, for what? A wife that never loved you, a kid that wasn’t yours, and all of these things you can share with no one.”

  His smile falls as he starts to move faster. “Watch your step, Carmen,” he bites back.

  I try to turn around to see what he means, but it’s too late. There’s a bang as I fall, tripping over something on the ground. I see Alexander fall and Cyrus standing behind him. His face morphs from anger to shock, and I can see his mouth moving, but the only thing I hear is ringing. I try to stand up so I can run to him, but my hands slip and send me back on my ass. Bringing them in front of me, I try to see what it is in the dim moonlight. I look at my palms, then to Cyrus, then back to my hands, trying to figure out if this is real.

  Blood coats every finger and runs down to my wrist. I try to wipe them on my tank top, but there is too much. I can feel it seeping through my shorts, hitting the back of my thighs. And it makes my stomach turn.

  Am I hurt? Did the shears cut me?

  Cyrus moves closer, reaching out for me. As he hauls me up, he grabs my head and pushes it into his chest. “Don’t look, Spitfire.” His words seem far away and muffled from the ringing that’s blaring inside my eardrums.

  If curiosity killed the cat, I’d be one dead pussy, because despite his words, I pull away and glance over my shoulder. William’s soft eyes are on me, void of all emotion and unmoving. A pair of loppers protrude from his chest, telling me exactly what I hoped couldn’t be real.

  My stomach turns at the realization that I’m covered in his blood, and a scream bubbles in my throat, but this time I don’t try to push it down. I scream.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CARMEN

  Cyrus hauls me out of the greenhouse, trying to keep my head positioned forward. I’m not sure if I think staring will help me realize this is real or what, but I can’t seem to make myself turn away. All the way through the aisle and out the door, my eyes stay locked on the bodies until Cyrus closes the door behind us and uses his body as a shield between me and them.

  “Carmen,” he says lowly, rubbing both his hands up and down my arms.

  The rain beats down on me as I try to think of something to say. I want to reply. I’m not sure what I would say, honestly, but I feel hearing my voice—something more than a scream—would help ease his tension. Only, I can’t. The moment I look down and see the raindrops mixing with the blood and running down my body, my mouth opens, and bile crawls up the back of my throat, burning my esophagus.

  I rush backward quickly, then bend at the waist and let it come up. My stomach heaves and cramps with each gag, and as soon as I think I’m done, the feeling of blood all over me has me doubled over again.

  “Get it off me!” I scream through gasping breaths as Cyrus gathers my hair in his hands.

  He rubs my back, but I don’t need comfort right now. “Get it off me!” I scream again.

  My stomach calms just long enough for me to turn around and start clawing at my face. I just need it off. The rain, the blood. I don’t even know which is which anymore. It’s like my body is working without my mind and has entered panic mode.

  “Okay, okay,” he chants, grabbing the back of his shirt by the collar and pulling it over his head.

  He balls the fabric up and grabs one of my hands. He wipes it vigorously, spending a split second on each finger, then moves to my palm. He does the same with the other, then moves to my face.

  My insides feel like they’re shaking, and my skin switches from being too hot to too cold while my breathing becomes almost nonexistent. I shift my weight on my feet as he continues trying to clean the blood from my body, trying to remain as calm as possible, but it’s useless.

  “They’re dead,” I pant like it’s finally sinking in.

  “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay, Carmen.” I can barely hear him, but even then, the uncertainty in his tone is evident.

  I close my eyes. “They’re dead,” I repeat.

  He drops his shirt and wraps his arms around me, then pulls me back into his chest. His skin is hot against my cheek, and his arms are tight around me. “Shhh,” he soothes, running his fingertips up and down my back.

  This is something he’s used to. Death, blood, violence, fucked-up secrets. It’s all in his job description, so it isn’t surprising how calm he is. I breathe in the smell of his skin and wrap my arms around his waist, trying to steal some of his composure.

  “I know this is hard, Carmen, but I need to get this cleaned up so we can leave. Go wait in the car.”

  I suck in one last breath and blow it out slowly while squeezing my eyes together, then pull away. “No. This can’t be swept under the rug like some job. It’s what got us into this position in the first place.”

  He tips his head and hunches down so he can look me in the eye. “I can’t risk either of us getting locked up, so you need to let me handle this.”

  I shake my head and swallow a hiccup that tries to escape, then square my shoulders, hoping I give the impression of confidence. The rain falling helps with concealing my tears, so I try to level my voice and speak as calmly as I can. “Give me the gun.”

  He shakes his head, but I don’t let him speak. Of course things didn’t pan out the way we wanted, but there is still a way to end it. Alexander is Ghost, and he’s dead along with his right-hand man and William—my real dad—so there is no better opportunity than now to come clean—or at least tell half the truth. All of the secrets end tonight.

  “Let me do this. Please,” I beg, biting my lip to hide its quiver.

  He stares at me, pai
n painting his features.

  “I just need you to run. Go as far away as you can, don’t look back, and don’t contact me.” My heart throbs and beats against my rib cage. It takes everything in me not to grip my chest to ease it. I can’t let him know this is hurting me more than it’s probably hurting him.

  For so long, all I’ve wanted was to be important to someone, and Cyrus gave me that. He chased me when no one else would. He showed me I wasn’t alone in this messed-up world and made me feel valid in all my crazy feelings. But here I am, asking him to leave—asking him to do the very thing I never wanted him to do, but I can’t let him go down for this.

  “Carmen—”

  I hold up my hand. “Stop. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I have a better chance of getting away with this than you, so leave. I’m begging you.”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “If you don’t, all of this will be for nothing. We can’t just clean it up and hope for the best. Alexander had a life. People will know something isn’t right.”

  “But by the time they start to question things, we can be long gone. Don’t ask me to do this, Carmen.” I can hear the agony in his words, but I try not to focus on it.

  “I’m not asking you; I’m telling you, Cyrus. Go.” The words crack as they come out, but I stand my ground.

  “The cameras. They’ll know I was here, so there is no point. I’m not leaving you.” He jerks his head in disagreement.

  “Bradley can handle it, I’m sure. I’ll figure it out.” I don’t want to drag Bradley back into this again, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “William deserves more than what you can give, Cyrus,” I add, and it’s true.

  I may not have been able to spend time with him and get to know him the way a daughter should know her dad, but I can at least give him a proper funeral. Maybe meet some relatives and keep his memory alive in some way.

  Like something snaps inside his mind, he finally looks at me with clear eyes. “I can’t take that from you.”