ALEATHA ROMIG
New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of the Consequences, Infidelity, Web of Sin, and Tangled Web series
COPYRIGHT AND LICENSE INFORMATION
FLAME
Book 2 of the WEB OF DESIRE trilogy
Copyright @ 2020 Romig Works, LLC
Published by Romig Works, LLC
2020 Edition
ISBN: 978-1-947189-46-1
Cover art: Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design (www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk)
Editing: Lisa Aurello
Formatting: Romig Works, LLC
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
2020 Edition License
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the appropriate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
SYNOPSIS
FLAME – book #2 WEB OF DESIRE
“What matters most is how you walk through the fire.” ~ Charles Bukowski
No longer simmering and crackling beyond our realm, the fire smoldering in the distance roars to life. The blaze has the capacity to scorch and destroy everything and everyone in its path.
All that I’ve known and believed was obliterated the moment Madeline spoke a truth I’d never suspected. With one sentence, one plea, my life has taken an uncharted turn. Through the smoke and soot, I search for answers.
A man, an outfit, and my brothers-in-arms have been my solace, my calling, and my reason to live. Now that I know there’s more, what will the future hold?
The Ivanov bratva wants Chicago. I want what they possess. With the Sparrow world at war, and Madeline’s declaration, she and I are surrounded, trapped by the inferno.
What will remain when the flames cease and we are left surveying the ashes?
From New York Times bestselling author Aleatha Romig comes a brand-new dark romance, FLAME, set in the dangerous world of Sparrow Webs. You do not need to read the Web of Sin or Tangled Web trilogy to get caught up in this new and intriguing saga, Web of Desire.
FLAME is book two of the WEB OF DESIRE trilogy that began in SPARK and concludes in ASHES.
Have you been Aleatha’d?
Prologue
The end of SPARK, book #1, Web of Desire
Patrick
“Mr. Kelly.”
I didn’t draw it out. Instead, I turned my entire hand. 9, 8, 7, 6, and 5, all of diamonds.
“A straight flush.”
Chairs moved as the room erupted.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Sparrow said loudly as he stood. “We will maintain order.”
I reached over to Madeline, but she was also standing. Her expression of elation was gone, replaced by what could only be construed as fear.
“I can help you.”
She straightened her neck. “No one can.”
I sat dumbfounded as she made her way through the crowd to Ivanov.
Why would she go to him?
There was no question by the Detroit kingpin’s expression, he was upset. With the volume and commotion of the room, I strained to hear what they were saying. The uproar won. That was all right, I didn’t need to hear his words. Ivanov’s body language alone had the small hairs on my neck standing on end.
The dealer was collecting the chips.
Sparrow and Mason came my way. “Good job,” Sparrow said. “Let’s go downstairs and get this figured out.”
“What about...” I looked over to Andros Ivanov still talking to Maddie.
“We have Sparrows here,” Mason said, looking at Sparrow. “Both Ivanov and Hillman and their respective crew will be escorted off the property as soon as we are secure.”
Our number-one job was keeping the boss, Sterling Sparrow, safe.
I looked from my friends to Maddie and back again. “I will explain this soon—I’ve tried already—but first I have to be sure of something. My gut is telling me something isn’t right.” I looked at Mason and tipped my chin toward Sparrow. “Get him downstairs.”
The commotion grew louder around Ivanov and his men with Maddie right in the middle.
Sometimes it’s safest in the middle of the fire.
Oh hell no. I couldn’t stand by any longer.
Ivanov’s voice came into range. “I told you what would happen if you lost.”
“Get the other spectators out of here,” I ordered, speaking to a Sparrow capo. “I want this hall cleared.”
“No, no, you didn’t say that,” Maddie’s voice cracked. “Andros, I’m sorry. I had a great hand. You saw it. It was dealt to me. I was so sure.” With each sentence her desperation mushroomed, causing the words to come faster and faster.
I walked closer, leaving Mason and Sparrow with other Sparrows.
“Please...don’t do this,” she said, holding onto his arm.
He reached for her hand and roughly pushed it away.
I moved closer. “Don’t touch the lady.”
Ivanov’s laughter resonated above the crowd noise. It wasn’t only his. Now Hillman and his men were circling the others.
“Lady?” Ivanov asked. “You have the wrong woman.” He eyed Madeline. “This one’s a loser.”
My fist came forward. Before I had time to think, it collided with his arrogant jaw.
“No,” Madeline screamed as her hands came to her lips.
Ivanov staggered backward as his arms went out. “Wait,” he demanded, holding back his men as they lurched forward, their eyes on me. “No, not yet.” He regained his position as he rubbed his chin.
“Get out of my club—now. Your invitation has expired.”
I knew the deep, commanding voice. It was Sparrow.
Fuck. He needed to get out of here.
“Your club? You think this club is yours?” Ivanov asked. “You probably think the city is yours too. You’re wrong. I have parts, and soon I will have it all.”
“Get the fuck out now,” Sparrow said, his words demanding yet his tone eerily calm, “and you will live to see tomorrow.”
“Come,” Ivanov said to the men gathered. “We’ll be back.” He nodded to Mason. “Better check on the man in the office. He was no longer useful to me.”
What?
Mason’s gaze met mine.
Was he talking about Beckman?
By the time I turned to Madeline, she was walking, her head down, following Ivanov’s and Hillman’s men as they exited the room.
“Madeline, stay here,” I said, ignoring the way Sparrow and Mason were looking at me.
Her head shook. “I can’t, Patrick.”
“Man,” Mason said, reaching for my shoulder, “whatever is happening, let her go.”
Ivanov stopped and turned to Madeline. “I told you that returning required a win.” His gaze came to me. “Keep her. Her usefulness is also done. I have the newer version.” His lips curled into a smile. “She’s something else...fresh, innocent, and even more beautiful.”
“No, Andros. I’ll do anything,” Madeline called out as Ivanov and his men continued to leave.
“Make sure they are escorted off the property,” Sparrow was saying.
“Please, you promised,” she pleaded, her voice growing louder.
“And you promised me a win.” Those were his last words.
My attention went to Madeline as I tried to make
sense of what happened, what was happening. In the few minutes since the last game she had crumpled. I went to her as she leaned forward sobbing as if she’d been hit in the stomach.
Standing taller, she looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “I told you I had to win.” She looked at me, Mason, and Sparrow. “Please, if you can, stop him. I have to go with him.”
“Maddie, you don’t understand who he is,” I said.
She nodded. “I do. I know exactly who he is.”
“Patrick, what—?” Sparrow began.
“I’ve been trying to tell you—”
Madeline’s gut-wrenching wail stopped my reply.
I reached for her arm. “I’m going to tell them.”
“I-it doesn’t matter,” she muttered, sobs hiccupping her words. Mascara and tears covered her cheeks as blotches filled her neck and chest. “Y-you don’t understand.”
I reached again for Madeline’s arms, no longer caring about Sparrow and Mason. “I understand you’re my wife. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Patrick,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I have to go with Andros.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I do. He has my—” Her glassy green eyes stared up at me. “Patrick, Andros has our daughter.”
Patrick
Daughter.
The word rang like an echoing gong repeating over and over in my head, each time demanding more—more thought, more consideration, and more understanding.
Though hell was breaking loose around us, such as the resounding shrill of a fire alarm, her declaration had my full attention.
Daughter.
The single word held too much meaning, and at the same time, not enough. The information—the bomb Madeline had just dropped—was difficult to process. My mind scrambled to compute.
“What?” I asked.
Madeline nodded, her fear-stricken gaze not leaving mine.
This woman had walked away, never giving me the chance to be a husband, and now she attested that I was more—that I was a father.
My grip of Madeline’s arms tightened as I stared into the depths of her green orbs with the world around us erupting in pandemonium. Though others were present, the two of us were alone in the eye of the storm. “Say it again,” I demanded.
“I never meant for you to know.”
“You’re saying there’s a child and she’s mine?”
“Yes, Patrick. But she’s not a child, not anymore. She’s sixteen years old...” Another sob erupted from her throat. “...I know who Andros is, what he is capable of doing, and we can’t let him have our daughter, not without me present to keep her safe.”
I have a daughter.
I am a father.
The volume outside our bubble continued to grow. Hurricane-force winds metaphorically blew as voices rose. Ivanov’s show didn’t go unnoticed as murmurs morphed to shouts of anger and fear. Sparrow capos worked to clear the poker hall as contenders and spectators alike were corralled and moved onto the landing and beyond. Elliott was in my peripheral vision.
My gaze left Madeline’s as I searched for Sparrow and Mason. They were both doing what I should be doing, helping to clear the room. My eyes met Sparrow’s. After a nod to Garrett, he came my way. “They’re out of the building.”
Madeline turned to Sparrow. “I don’t know who you are, but you seem to know who Andros is, the kind of man he is. Please, I’m begging you. Stop him before he goes back to Detroit.”
“Ms. Miller,” Sparrow said, “as part of the Ivanov bratva, you’re also not welcome here.”
She gasped as she looked from him to me. “I have no one, no place, not without Andros.”
“Then I suggest—”
“Excuse me.”
We all turned to Marion Elliott.
“It’s time you leave,” Sparrow said.
“Yes.” Elliott turned to Madeline. “I’m sorry to have overheard. You aren’t without options, Madeline. Come to Texas. I have resources.”
What?
I stepped in front of Madeline. “Goodbye, Mr. Elliott.”
He took a step back but continued speaking to Madeline. “I hope you still have my number.”
Madeline didn’t reply as she clenched her handbag.
“Walk Mr. Elliott to his car,” I called to one of the capos.
As Marion Elliott was escorted away, I spoke to Sparrow. “It’s true what was said before. Madeline and I are married. She’s my wife.”
His dark gaze narrowed. “This weekend?”
“Seventeen years ago.”
There was an almost imperceptible shake of his head as if I were presenting information he wasn’t ready to hear. “Deal with her. You have ten minutes. We’re clearing the building.”
With the king’s declaration made, Sparrow turned and walked away.
“Deal with me? What does that mean?” Madeline asked.
“It means you’re a liability.”
“I’m not. Yes, I have been within the Ivanov bratva, but not...in. Who does he think I am or what I know? Yes, I have heard things, but I don’t know...” Her green eyes opened wider. “I’m not here for them. Please tell me you believe me. Tell me that you believe that I was here to play poker.”
“Who financed your play?”
Her eyes closed and opened. “Andros.”
“Who financed your travel? Your expenses.” I motioned to her green gown. “Your clothes?”
Defeat and disappointment washed over her expression as her chin dropped. “You’re right. I suppose that’s the way it looks. I promise you that I never told him the name of my daughter’s father. He couldn’t have known.”
“Birth certificate?”
Her head shook. “I didn’t list a name, any name.”
My neck straightened and teeth clenched. Not only had she denied me the experience but also the claim.
“Fine,” she said dejectedly, “I’ll leave.”
She took one step toward the door before I reached out again. Grasping her wrist, I spun her back toward me. “How? How did you end up with him, part of that organization?”
Her neck stiffened. “Does it matter, Patrick? It seems you’re rather familiar with the workings of the bratva. Organizations fall under many names.” Her chin tipped toward Sparrow. “Who is he? How did you get involved with him, with the other men around here? Are you a family? A cartel? An outfit?”
Letting go of her wrist, I took a step back and exhaled.
Her head tilted. “Tell me, Patrick, is my sin that I’m involved with the wrong crime syndicate?”
Officially, Sparrows were an outfit. In reality, the definitions of the titles she spouted weren’t dissimilar.
“Ivanov just declared war—war on my...” I fought for the right word. Yes, we were an outfit, but we were more than that. “...on my family.”
“I don’t care. There are always wars and coups. There is always someone who Andros is threatening or who is threatening him. Don’t you understand that I don’t give a shit about what he does or what you do? All I care about is my family—my daughter—and keeping her safe. It’s all I’ve cared about since...” She sighed. “...since I had her to care about.”
“And you think she’s safe in a bratva?”
“Sometimes the safest place is in the middle of the fire.” It was the same thing she’d said earlier in the night.
“I’m not letting you leave,” I said.
“It isn’t your choice.”
It was. I could keep her here. I could keep her locked away in our tower. Sparrow wouldn’t be happy, but damn it, this was my wife, the mother of my child. My mind swirled.
A child.
A daughter.
No, not a—mine.
My child.
My daughter.
Scenes I’d never before dreamt—an infant in my arms, a child running about, and a teenager—swirled like ghosts through my mind. Their images were too fleeting and too transparent to grasp, yet like apparition
s their presence was there.
As the different images materialized an unexpected reaction occurred. An unfamiliar sense of pride combined with a colossal desire to protect oozed into my circulation. In the time span for a drop of blood to leave the heart and travel back, I was fully affected.
Yes, I’d fought for my country. I protected Sparrow. I wanted to care for Madeline. Yet somehow, for a young girl who up until a few minutes ago I didn’t know existed, whatever had been brought to life within me was different—stronger and more intense than I’d ever felt.
The knowledge of this unknown young lady created an overwhelming sense of duty such as I’d never known was possible.
I had to protect my daughter, save her from Andros Ivanov and the Ivanov bratva.
The concept was crazy. I didn’t know this child. I couldn’t pick her out of a lineup, yet suddenly, her well-being was paramount in my thoughts.
My eyes narrowed as I stared down at Madeline. “You drop a fucking bomb that I have a child, a daughter, and now you plan to leave?” When she didn’t reply, I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“Does it really matter? I’m not presenting you with a baby wrapped in a pink blanket. That ship sailed,” she said defensively.
“You’re saying it’s too late. If you’re telling me the truth and I have a daughter, it’s not too late.”
Madeline nodded. “I am telling you the truth. The last I spoke with her, she was well and happy. That was before I left for Chicago, but Patrick, this isn’t like I’m telling you I’m pregnant. She’s sixteen. She doesn’t know you—”
“Doesn’t know me,” I interrupted. “How the fuck would she? She doesn’t know me because you never gave me a chance.”
“I-I didn’t want to tell you. I-I couldn’t. I always feared what Andros would do if he found out who her father was, how he would use it against me and her.” Madeline’s head shook. “Please, I have to get to her.”
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