That being said, spending more time with him . . . I’ve begun to really fester about what he knew, and even more than that, what he never told me.
I still don’t know what Mircea did to him, but tonight things will change. I’m at Sorin’s apartment, sitting on the modern, black leather couch looking out through the window. Las Vegas is the most beautiful city on earth from the deserts, to the casinos, to the people.
“He’s going to be here in five minutes. Will you tell me what this is about?” Sorin questions, coming into view with a glass of scotch on the rocks in his hand. He leans up against one of the metal beams and takes a sip, cocking a brow at my silence.
I don’t mean to be so quiet. I’m only trying to think of what to say. Do I tell him about where I’m working? About being Gia’s employee and then have to get pulled into that long, dragged out conversation on how it’s a horrible idea. Do I say I work for a publishing company and I’m writing biker romance, and then go into how I’m interviewing bikers to have authenticity? Regardless, my options are limited. So, I say the only thing I can.
“He did something to a friend of mine . . . and I don’t know what it was . . . but my friend said Mircea’s name.” I keep my gaze focused on the city, not daring to look at Sorin. He’s always been the one to cut through me like I’m ice and I can’t handle the questions right now. Because, maybe Chaz is slowly becoming more important to me than I thought, and after speaking to Victoria earlier today, she questioned on why I’d keep doing the interviews if I had what I needed.
Her question plagued me, like a monster coming out from under a child’s bed.
She’s right and there’s no doubt about it. Why would I waste time when I could be doing other things? Because the reality is, I don’t need to continue spending days on end at the club. Though, it’s become a fun part of my new normal since gaining my independence from my family.
I’ve been told numerous times from Dixon, Chaz, Cobra, and even Boog how the club became their family. Little did I realize until today how they’ve already sunken their way into my heart. They’re becoming my family and I understand what they all meant when in the beginning all I could do was imagine and empathize.
“You’ve gotta give me more than that, Crina.” Sorin states in an irritated manner.
I shrug, “There’s nothing else I can give you. I wasn’t told anything else.”
“You have to know something. Why would your friend say Mircea’s name in the first place?”
“I was talking about something with him and my last name came up. Then he asked me if I was of any relation to Mircea, and his eyes went dark. It was like I became a monster, Sorin. So, I need to know.”
“Him?” He questions, pushing himself off the beam he walks in front of me so I’m forced to look at him. “Do you have a crush little sister?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m only curious as to what Mircea did to paint me in such a light.” I grumble, standing, I go over to Sorin’s makeshift bar and pour myself a glass of vodka. Adding two cubes of ice I lean against the kitchen wall.
“And you think surprising him will get you what you desire?” Sorin belts, laughing.
“Yes. I do.” I growl, frustrated beyond belief. Mircea and I might never have really gotten along, but the least he can do is give me some sort of answer. I have to know what I’m facing.
“Speaking of the devil, Mircea!” Sorin plasters on his fake smile and tone, sounding overjoyed to see our eldest brother. The reality is I know he’d rather take his eyes out with a spoon than have to deal with him. Our family will be forever dysfunctional. It’s one of the only things I’m certain about in life.
“Was I hearing things, or is Crina here?” Mircea’s voice booms with authority as it always does. If you ask me, it’s irritating as hell.
“Hello, dear brother.” I come out into his view. “I’m so glad you could make it. Now, I’m sure you’d rather cut to the chase as well.”
Mircea furrows his brows and looks between Sorin and I. He cackles lightly while he slides his hands into his pockets. “I’d love to know what the plan was tonight.”
“There wasn’t much of one, just a question. You hurt someone who’s important to me and I’d like to know how you did that, or rather, what you did.” I speak clearly, preparing not to back down from this fight.
“I’ve hurt many people, Crina. We could be here for a while.” Mircea takes a seat in one of Sorin’s chairs, making himself comfortable.
“I’m shocked you didn’t just go straight out the door.” Sorin comments, not helping the situation.
I shoot him over a glare. “Really?”
Sorin simply shrugs.
“To tell you the truth, I’m entertained. I’d love to know who Crina’s fancied with.”
“I thought so too, that she fancies someone.” Sorin snickers.
I’m forced to roll my eyes, not addressing what they’re saying. If they know I give that much of a damn . . . they could hurt him. I know Sorin would never, but Mircea is a different animal. “Who are the Beaumonts to you?” I ask, watching his facial expression shift from entertained to curious.
“How do you know the Beaumonts?” He answers my question with a question.
“I asked you first. Tell me.” I grumble, not backing down.
“The Beaumonts were nothing more than an easy payday. I find it . . . thrilling to know you and I do walk in the same circles. What did you want with them, Crina? I doubt you do care, because you never have. If it’s money you’re after, I assure you our family milked that cash cow for everything we could. They’re not worth your time right now. It’s what you need, money, right? Guess defying father to prove a point wasn’t your smartest move.” A smirk pulls at Mircea’s lips, and I’ll play along. If he wants to act like a know it all, I’ll let him lead me to the information I seek.
“Fuck. What happened to the money? I was told they had millions.” I hiss, running a hand through my hair in an attempt to look distraught.
Mircea chuckles, “Oh, you’re such a novice. Think about it, Crina, you’re practically a child. Leave the threats to me. I told them I knew where they were and would tell the new boss in France if they didn’t give me a million in cash. I had one of our people hack into their accounts, and I left them enough to run that restaurant so they weren’t completely helpless . . . but, part of me wants to collect a payday from the French just because, I am growing rather bored these days. At least, I am until I leave for New York.”
Boss. Mafia. They’re associated with the fucking mafia.
Every conversation I’ve ever had with him is running through my mind. I’m trying to remember the smallest of facts and then it hits me. There was a remark made about moving to the United States. They fled France and now I see it clear as day.
“I thought they’d be an easy mark. I only wonder why they left France, still haven’t been able to figure it out.” I shake my head, hoping he’ll bite.
Mircea places his hands on the arms of the chair and rises, approaching me. “Oh, Crina, you have so much to learn. I can’t believe this has happened to you.”
I furrow my brows, “Huh?”
“Don’t play coy. It’s never been something that’s suited you. You do fancy one of them and it’s clear as day. Never have I seen more fury in your eyes, except for the time when you disowned our family. To have that spirit, there must be some emotional attachment.” He scoffs lightly and begins walking off toward the door.
“I may have to inform the French now, considering you’re deciding to make things a bit messy. I mean, you could just apologize to father and make peace with the family . . . or you could risk the entire Beaumont family’s deaths being on your hands.” Mircea turns to look at me. The corner of his lip turns into a devilish smile and I start to run toward him, ready to strangle his fucking throat when Sorin’s arms wrap around me and hold me back.
“You can’t go after him, Crina. Father is arranging a marriage between him and
Bianca Petran. I’m so sorry.” Sorin whispers in my ear even though I struggle, kicking and screaming.
“What will it be, Crina?” Mircea questions.
My nostrils flare as shakes take over my body. My heart beats faster than I’ve ever been able to remember while tears pool behind my eyes. Chaz hasn’t done anything to him, not one thing. Neither has Timothée.
There are very few things I know about the mafia, though I do know this— betrayal is often what leads to our demise.
I’m rendered speechless, trying to speak but nothing comes out. I only feel the dryness of my mouth growing greater when something slips out past my lips. However, it isn’t a word. It’s a cry. I look around trying to see where it’s coming from when I realize I’m the source.
Begging. Pleading. Crying.
All for mercy.
All to leave them alone.
My brothers might think I’m a selfish woman, Mircea much more than Sorin . . . but I’m not the devil. And, after becoming closer with the club I can’t imagine anything happening to them . . . even if that means Chaz, or his father.
“She’ll apologize to father,” Sorin speaks for me.
Mircea laughs loudly, shaking his head. “I hope she does. It’s the only thing that’ll stop me.”
“She will. You have my word.” Sorin promises Mircea for me and he disappears through the door.
Sorin’s grip on me loosens and I whip around to face him. “W-why would you d-do that?”
Sternly, he cups my face in his hands. “Because I love you and these people mean something to you. I would never stay silent, not when it meant people you care for dying.” Sorin pulls me into his arms and the moment he does, the second my face hits his velvet dress shirt, the tears pour.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The most dangerous woman of all is the one who refuses to rely on your sword to save her because she carries her own.
~ R.H. Sin
Chaz
“I apologize profusely for being late. However, there were circumstances out of my control.” Eduardo speaks, the rough tone of his voice making it obvious he’s exhausted. Though, the dark circles under his eyes prove it as well.
“It’s fine, friend. You’re here now and that’s all that matters.” Damon tells him, pulling out a chair for him in the room where we hold church.
All full patch and officers are here, as well as the woman who we’re here to protect— Sakura.
Eduardo is her godfather and used to be best friends with her father. However, bad blood went between them and now things are quite tense. Eduardo is sitting where Mouser typically does. He chose to stand next to his ol’ lady, wanting to offer her the only bit of support he can right now.
“How can I be of help? I know it must be in regard to Sakura, considering the conversation we had over the phone . . . though important details were left out.” Eduardo rubs his hand against his chin, sitting up straighter as he looks to our Prez. It’s evident we’re not the only people on edge.
Damon opens his mouth to speak, but just as he starts Sakura cuts him off. “There was a program being run by Lucian. I’m not a technical person, so I don’t know the details, but I’ll get to the point. It was imitating my mother was still alive, sending texts and pinging on cell towers. About two weeks ago Lucian was hacked and when it happened the program stopped running. My father knows something’s up, and we were notified he purchased a ticket here to Las Vegas. So, he’s going to be here in about two weeks.”
Eduardo sucks in a sharp breath, “Fuck. This isn’t good. Hiromitsu was never as callous as your mother, but, considering the events that transpired . . . I’m afraid he’s a wildcard.” Eduardo tells Sakura, then looks to the room. “What is it you need from me?”
“Information, and possibly a trojan horse. I know you and Hiro were once great friends. If you weren’t, Sakura would’ve never been your goddaughter. Correct?” Damon questions, looking to Eduardo.
Eduardo nods. “You are correct, although, things have changed drastically through the years. Keeping her safe and away from her parents was my goal when I asked for your help . . . and in doing so, I made things much worse between us.”
“My mother was the only person to blame, and you know it.” Sakura speaks in an angered voice. She clears her throat, “We found out how she really felt about my father that night in the desert. She called him a feeble fool, said she was the brains of the operation. I didn’t know this back then, but I realize it now . . . you were protecting me from my mother, not my father. She was the dangerous one. We all witnessed it firsthand.”
I don’t say a word, knowing it’s not my place. I could say how her mother was a crazy bitch, but we all know it’s true. If you ask me, her father will want vengeance for what was done . . . which I’m sure he doesn’t know about just yet. Though, he’s on his way to figuring it out.
“How the fuck did this happen?” Eduardo grumbles, showing the only bit of emotion since being here. “Shouldn’t that rotten ex of yours have a back-up system or something?” Eduardo shifts his attention to Sakura.
“Why ask questions like this now? It won’t do us any good. I understand you’re frustrated, but there’s nothing that can be done at this point.” Sakura gently informs him.
“Sakura is right, and it’s why we’re preparing for the worst. Your mother was the more dangerous one, however your father is an unpredictable wildcard. We don’t know how he feels or what he thinks about your mother’s . . . disappearance.” Damon speaks up, addressing the room.
“He knew nothing about my sister’s death. Remember? She made it seem like he had no idea.” Sakura speaks, though I’m not sure if she’s speaking directly to Damon or her godfather.
Amara, who is now the Prez of our Chihuahua charter, shot Sakura’s mom before her mother killed her. She was about to end her daughter’s life after she already murdered Sakura’s oldest sister in cold blood. Actually, she didn’t even do it. She paid a rival MC club in Montana to kill Saffron, who was our former national Prez’s woman. The fucked-up part is that Saffron had a little girl named Sydney, and shortly after her death, her man died. His name was Fist and he was the national charter Prez. Sydney was left with no one and his daughter, Ashley took her in for a while until Zane, her brother and his wife, Octavia, formally adopted the girl.
She must be about sixteen now. Shit. Kids grow up so quickly. I remember when she was an annoying, bratty little eight-year-old.
“Do you think that will protect you?” Mouser asks, though not in a nice manner.
Sakura turns her head to look at him in shock, like the rest of us.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I just don’t think trying to be optimistic and think your father isn’t going to kill you for what we’ve all done is going to help. If you tell him Saffron was murdered by your mother, it’s only going to piss him off more and he’ll be even more unpredictable.”
Sakura begins to open her mouth, but Eduardo cuts her off. “Your husband is right.”
“He isn’t my husband,” Sakura whips her head to her godfather and glares.
From where I’m seated, I watch as Mouser kneels on the ground while Sakura is distracted and pulls out a giant gold box from his back pocket. Shit, he was acting totally normal and everything.
“Maybe we should change that,” Mouser speaks with a shaky voice, showing every brother in this room he’s nervous as all hell. He opens the box and a light shines on a ring that could blind me from here.
Sakura turns back to face him with furrowed brows, about half ready to give him an earful when she realizes what’s happening. Fuck, I didn’t think this was a good idea at first . . . but as the days passed and Sakura made it more and more obvious how fearful she is I might’ve put a bug in Mouser’s ear. He’s had this ring for a year and kept saying he was waiting for the right moment, the right time, all that bullshit.
I went off on him a couple days ago and said there would never be a right time, so to tell the people you love m
ore than anything now, and not later on.
“W-what are y-you doing?” Sakura asks with a high-pitched voice.
Widow begins chuckling and I shoot him a glare that tells him how much I’ll fuck him up if he ruins this moment for her. I look across the table for a second and see Dixon is giving him a warning as well.
“I’m asking the woman I love more than anything if she’ll be my wife, ‘cause we’ve damn near endured the impossible time and time again, and I want you to know how much I love you Sakura. Enough to lock you down forever and spend every remaining day I have on this Earth with you. Now, will you stop makin’ me sweat bullets and tell me if you’re going to marry me or not?” Even from a few feet away I can see the sweat beading at his hairline. Even his face is flushing with red and pink blotches from his nervousness.
“Is this real?” She mutters, bringing a hand up over her mouth. It shakes drastically and I spot her other hand doing the same thing. Shit, she’s in shock.
“Yes, it’s real, Sak’! Now give the man an answer before he shits himself.” I laugh, giving her the extra push she needs.
Sakura nods her head eagerly, “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!”
Mouser slides the glitzy ring onto her ring finger and rises, lifting her up in the air and landing a slammer down onto her lips.
“We needed something happy to bring us together around here.” Cobra chuckles.
“Yeah, it was about damn time.” Damon pipes up. “Now, we have some time so we need to figure out a solid plan. I don’t want us to be caught off guard at all. Dixon, can you reach out to Lucian and find out if anything else has come up?”
“Yep. I’ll call him when church ends and give you a status update.”
“Awesome. Thank you. The last thing we need is to have shit blow up down here again. Not when Montana’s already having a couple issues.”
Everyone pays close attention to Damon since he finished speaking. “What kind of problems are going on up there?” I’m the only one with enough balls to ask.
Chaz (Reapers MC Book 14) Page 12