Fallen Angel: Broken Saint Duet Part Two

by E. M. Gayle

  "Honestly, your freedom means nothing to me. But you are a key player and that makes you fair game."

  "You are not making any sense. Why are you really here? Would it kill you to be honest?" I blew out a breath and threw up my hands. “Oh, who am I kidding? Of course it would. It's all part of the game."

  "That's rich, coming from you, darling. You can't seem to tell the truth no matter the consequences. Now you'll just have to live with them."

  My blood chilled at his words. I'd been as honest as I knew how. And yet somehow, it wasn't enough. But how?

  It dawned on me then. My secrets were not my secrets anymore. "You already knew."

  "That the man you married five years ago is dead? Of course I did. Only he didn't die from a heart attack. That much is obvious. You and your father weren't fooling anyone. Tell me, though. Did my grandfather die before or after he took your precious, overpriced virginity?"

  I reeled. No one was supposed to know anything. Not even the marriage, let alone his…death. My father had promised. There had only been three people there that night. One of them had talked.

  Wait.

  "What did you say?” Grandfather?

  "You heard me quite clearly. Don't pretend you didn't."

  "Who told you?" I may have been shaking uncontrollably, but that didn't mean my mind didn't work. In fact, it went in to hyperdrive as I imagined the worst.

  He smiled slowly, his eyes turning downright devilish in their intensity as he stared down at me. "You did."

  My legs buckled as I struggled to stay upright. This was too much. He was too much. "Get out," I screamed. I was beyond caring about my precious facade. I would call security and have him thrown out if that's what it took.

  He chuckled, another hateful sound that slithered up my spine and neck. He took one step closer and wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. I struggled to free myself with no luck. "I'll go for now, darling. But I won't be far." He released my neck with a slight shove, and I grabbed my desk to remain standing. "If nothing else, I need to protect my investment. Remember that. You've been bought and sold. Anything that happens tonight changes nothing. I'll be close by, and after the show, I intend to collect."

  Chapter 17

  Nova

  * * *

  By the time the ten-minute warning knock sounded on my door, I'd managed to dress and fix my face. The dress, with its neckline that plunged nearly to my waist, where it was fastened to the skirt with a diamond encrusted medallion had turned out better than I'd hoped. The silhouette was designed to flatter any figure, and I still believed it would be the crown jewel in my collection.

  Internally, however, I was a mess, with more potholes than a backroads highway. Because I didn't know how to process Ronin's revelations, I'd shoved them as deep as they would go and forged ahead.

  The show must go on. That was the saying, after all. Although I'd happily punch the originator in the mouth right about now.

  My phone had blown up after my fiancé’s departure with messages from Rock, but since I wasn't ready to deal with that mess, I'd had to ignore those too. So I'd locked up my device with the rest of the crew's. Thanks to his little app on my tablet, he'd heard every word Ronin had said, and I couldn't face him or his righteous indignation. In a bare five-minute exchange, my soul had been stripped down to the bones and every secret I feared had been laid bare.

  All but one...

  I smoothed my hands along my hips, even though the dress was already perfect. My nerves were shot, and I needed something to pull myself together. Time maybe, but that was the one commodity I didn't have. I reached for the earpiece that would allow me to communicate with Trina for the rest of the night and shoved it in place.

  I had to get out of this room and out of my head before I had a nervous breakdown. I stepped into my shoes and headed out and into the now massive chaos. The number of people backstage seemed to have exploded, running in every direction. There were cameramen at the edge of the curtain and girls lining up in what looked like a frantic panic.

  I rushed in their direction, ready to put out whatever fire that had them all ready to run. "What's going on?"

  "Michelle's dress is caught in the zipper and I don't think we can get it out without ripping the fabric and we have about ninety seconds until she has to walk." The normally calm Trina did not look calm. Her fingers were shaking as she fought to free the dress.

  "It's okay. I've got this. You make sure everyone else is lined up and ready, Lois and I will handle Michelle's dress." I glanced at the head seamstress who also looked ready to pass out any second from the stress. Trina nodded and went to work while I stepped forward to take over. The fabric had gotten jammed pretty damned good and the zipper teeth had already snagged their way into the fabric. I was going to have to tear the dress to fix it.

  "I need some small scissors and safety pins," I ordered. Lois grimaced and reached into the many pockets of her vest and fanny pack. I had no doubt whatever I needed would be in there. Our seamstress was always prepared for anything. In a few seconds she produced both a pair of sharp, small snips and a handful of safety pins in an assortment of sizes. I snatched the scissors from her and began the careful task of cutting around the zipper without stabbing Michelle's skin. "Lois, open the safety pins and get them ready." We didn't have much time and I needed to conserve every second.

  "Sure thing," she answered.

  "Michelle, hold still. I don't want to stab you."

  The model laughed tightly. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

  "That may be, but I'd like to avoid getting any blood on the dress. That's not exactly the look we are going for."

  I snipped the last of the stuck fabric and held out the scissors to exchange for the pins.

  "Thirty seconds,” our stage director yelled. The girls around us sucked in sharp breaths.

  "Don't worry, we've got this. We're not going to miss the timing on the opening sequence." I used the safety pins to marry the two pieces of sliced fabric back together and double pinned it through the zipper lining.

  "Ten seconds." This time the warning came at a lower volume and I could see the director counting down with his fingers. The lights dimmed, and the first song I'd selected for the show began to play.

  "Just breathe, and listen to the music. Follow your cues and everything will be perfect." Trina reassured the women as I fished the final pin through the fabric.

  "3…2…"

  I snapped the last one closed and smoothed the fabric as best I could. "Okay, you're good to go, Michelle."

  "1…"

  "Thank you," she whispered as she headed through the curtain and started her first turn down the runway. From this angle, the spotlights blinded me, making it difficult for me to make out much more than the girls beginning their walks, perfectly timed.

  "The second sequence girls are lined up and ready to go. We need to look them over for any adjustments." Trina stood next to me, urging everyone into place.

  I stepped away from the curtain and double checked the backstage monitor instead. I motioned for the girls to move forward as I watched Michelle stop, face right, then left, and spin to head back our way. I breathed a marginal sigh of relief One sequence underway, only seven more to go.

  After some minor adjustments with a steamer and a curling iron, the second sequence was also on the way. I watched on the monitor again, eager to see the crowd response. Trina stood by my side making furious notes on her tablet as each girl passed the main camera.

  "They look really good," she sighed. "You've outdone yourself this time."

  As much as I wanted to revel in her compliment, it would have to wait until later. We still had a lot to do.

  "I know. I know. Back to work." Trina ran off to do just that, and I followed her with a big smile on my face despite everything.

  Halfway through the third sequence, I was beginning to believe everything would be all right. Despite a few minor issues, the models were handling everything l
ike the pros they were. They made my job easy and my clothes look good. Judging by the faces in the crowd, I'd say they were enjoying them—

  My muscles tensed as one of the cameramen scanned the crowd. Was that? I moved closer to the monitor to see if I could get a better look. Sure enough. My father sat in the crowd, a scowl etched across his face.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  As long as Anthony Cullotta lived, my nightmare would never end. I understood JD's point. He would never give up. Never stop going after what he wanted. He was like a rabid dog, determined to bite you with no care that it would be lethal. If Rock put him in jail it would never end. He'd either find a way out, or he'd run the business from his cell. My brothers would be his puppets. My sister would be sold for more power. It would never end.

  Then I saw the person sitting next to him, and nearly lost my lunch. What the hell were my mother and sister doing here? What the hell was this? Was he so desperate he would try to pull something here?

  Of course he was. How could I ever believe otherwise? He'd already tried to snatch me backstage. I searched the crowd for any of the MC club or Rock. I knew they were close by. No matter what Rock thought of me now, he wouldn't abandon his case. He was going to protect his father from jail by sending my family instead.

  I strained to see them better. My mother looked miserable. Her hands were clenched in her lap, and her mouth was pinched like she'd just sucked a lemon or something. She didn't want to be here. Carina looked nervous. She was chewing on her bottom lip and tapping her foot against her chair. I needed to get word to someone about this turn of events. If they tried to make a move on my father, she could get caught in the crossfire.

  And somewhere out there was Ronin, too. Was he seeing what I was seeing? Probably. That bastard saw everything. I'd been so naive thinking I could ever deal with him. Anger coursed through me as my options for what to do next dwindled. I had to keep going and pretend that evil wasn't lurking in every corner of the auditorium. Why the hell did I leave my tablet behind?

  Fear flooded my bloodstream. I needed to stick to the plan and trust in Rock. My job was to keep everything going as normal and make sure all the high-tech gear remained in place backstage. I had to go back for my tablet. It was time to stop being an idiot.

  I raced back to my office, keeping an eye out for anyone I didn't recognize along the way. I punched in the code and shoved through my door and slammed it closed behind me. The fear instilled from seeing my father flooded me with adrenaline as I crossed quickly to the safe box where I'd placed all the electronics. I opened it as quickly as my shaky hands would allow and fished around for my tablet. I pulled several out that were not mine and shoved them back inside. I reached for another, and pulled it out, relieved to see this one was mine. I jerked it free from the box, and something else flew from the box and landed on the floor.

  I bent down to retrieve it, and discovered a small black velvet bag.

  What the shit?

  It could not be.

  I untied the string holding it closed and with shaking hands, upended the contents across my tablet. A group of gems sparkled in the light as I stood with my mouth dropped open, total shock coursing through me. How in the hell had these ended up here? I didn't need to count them to know.

  Thirty-six illegal gems worth millions of dollars were now sitting in my office backstage at a fashion show secured in a box that only I should have the combination to.

  Was someone trying to set me up? Not fucking someone. Just one person.

  Ronin. The bastard. But why?

  And what the hell was I going to do about it? I could not keep them here. Rock and I had banged our heads against the wall this afternoon trying to come up with a way to get these back from Ronin, and he'd dumped them in my office. My head was swimming with questions and no answers. All I could think about was how he kept saying we were playing a game. What game?

  Think, Nova.

  There had to be an explanation. I scooped the diamonds back into the bag and shut the lockbox. I absolutely could not keep them here. If the wrong person found them, I'd be screwed or worse. Is that what Ronin was trying to do?

  Did he plan to sic my father on me, which in turn, would turn the feds on him and then there was the whole MC waiting in the wings to do their part.

  I started to shove them in my pocket and realized that would be even worse than the safe. I could not be caught red-handed with these things. I turned left and right, looking for somewhere to hide them. Nowhere would be good enough if someone came here to search. I could try and get upstairs and get them back in my safe, but that didn't feel right either. Ronin had already taken them from there once. When they weren't found here, that was the second place they'd look.

  I glanced into the mirror and backed away from the look on my face. Abject terror did not look good on me. I wasn't the greatest at hiding anything. Under pressure? Forget it. Other than my pocket, there was nowhere else to put them for now. I wasn't even wearing a bra to stuff them in. This dress was held in place with padding and tape.

  Except...

  The jeweled medallion that held the top to the bottom was covered in faux diamonds. Could I somehow possibly... I looked down and prodded at the gems. One easily popped off, leaving the prong still attached to the dress behind. Oh my God. Could I? I searched my room for supplies. A needle and thread? I shook my head. No. No. No. Way too complicated and it wouldn't work. I probably had some pliers that might bend the prongs around each one. A glance at the clock told me I definitely did not have time for this. That's when I saw it at the bottom of the middle drawer. My glue gun.

  Hell yes. That would totally work. I dug further through fabric swatches, buttons, and pins until I found a box of glue sticks. There was prepared, and then there was insane. Thank God I saved everything. I plugged in the gun, reached for my makeup bag, and fished through there until I came out with my tweezers. I then sat down in the chair and began plucking the diamonds one by one from the medallion, counting them as I went until I hit thirty-six. Grabbing the pouch, I dumped the real diamonds onto my dressing table and grabbed the first one.

  How long had I been gone? Trina would be looking for me. My hands shook as I placed a dab of hot glue on the back of the first gem and pressed it into place, holding it there for a few seconds to ensure it set. To my relief, when I released it, it stayed in place. Not that I doubted the ability of my glue gun. We'd hemmed gowns with guns at the last minute, and every one of them had held up. Still.

  As if on cue, a knock sounded on my door. "Nova. Are you in there?"

  "Yeah. Just a minute." I shoved the fake crystals into the pouch and tucked them under my makeup bag before I rushed to the door and answered it, only opening it a crack.

  "What's up?" I could see the stage director and Trina both standing there, looking worried as hell.

  "There's some men here with badges asking for you. They say they have a warrant."

  "A warrant for what? What kind of craziness is happening? Can't they see we are in the middle of a fashion show? They will have to come back." By this time, I was shaking so hard, I thought my bones were going to rattle. The whole thing was out of this world crazy. I tried to take a breath and came up short.

  "You need to come out here and talk to them. They are insistent."

  "Tell them to contact Rock Reed with the FBI. I'm sure he can handle this."

  "Nova," Trina whispered through the door. "They are the FBI, and they are big and scary and not friendly at all. Something is really wrong."

  I tried to swallow around the lump now firmly lodged in my throat. I couldn't breathe, could barely talk and I was about to collapse from the shaking. This was so so bad.

  "Give me five minutes. I had a dress malfunction. I have to fix it."

  "Oh shit!" Trina pushed forward around the stage director bully. "What can I do?"

  "Nothing. I can fix it, it's just going to take me a few minutes."

  "Okay. Will do. But I'm going to stand
right here in case you need my help. I'm not leaving you alone. Casey can tell the FBI to hold their fucking horses."

  Any other time I would have laughed to hear Trina lose her unflappable cool. But this was no laughing matter. I closed and relocked the door before dashing back to the dressing table. I pushed everything out of my mind except getting these damned diamonds on this dress. I didn't have the mental bandwidth for anything else. One by one I methodically glued them into place.

  All I could do now was hope they all stayed in place and no one questioned them. The official details about the dress that would be released to the public listed two options for the medallion. Ten carats of real diamonds in the form of small chips, or larger Swarovski crystals. The crystals were bigger and thus would lend the dress more sparkle. The exact item now lying on my table. I grabbed the pouch, stuffed them in my pocket and would dispose of them in the first trash can I could find. I wasn't about to try and pass those off as the real thing. It was a miracle Ronin's trick had worked the first time, it wasn't going to happen a second time.

  I slipped outside and practically ran into Trina. "Jesus," I said, covering the diamond medallion with my hands to ensure none of them came loose.

  "Sorry. I just didn't want to leave you alone. Is everything okay with the dress?" She looked me up and down, eyeing every detail up close.

  "Yes. It's fine. But I think we have bigger problems to worry about, right?"

  "I don't know." She tipped her head in the direction of several men dressed in black suits and ties who were glaring in our direction. "Casey called Gabe, and he is demanding his lawyer be present before they do anything."

  "What exactly are they asking for?"

  She lowered her voice to barely a whisper. "They want to search your office." My stomach plummeted and my vision blurred a little. That fucker had set me up. I didn't care how dangerous he was, I was going to kill him.