by SE Chardou
“You are awful, you know that? And your behavior just might get me killed. You know your uncle doesn’t like me that much, right? So a secret like this just might give him the ammunition he needs to take me out.”
Mags slapped his chest playfully. “Oh. My. God. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of my uncle. He’s just a great big ole Teddy Bear—he wouldn’t harm a fly!”
Max stared at her as if she’d made a funny joke. “Mmm hmm, you keep telling yourself that.”
“What are you two whispering about?”
He watched his fiancée’s face change from joyful to stoic. “And how long have you been slinking about? Chances are you’ve heard more than what was any of your business.”
“Are you suggesting I’m a nosey parker?” Karina questioned, her icy blue eyes almost merry in an angelic face hiding a dangerously cunning mind.
“No, I’m calling you out on your bullshit. I know you know I’m pregnant and I would appreciate it if the news never left this room. Do you understand what I’m spelling out to you in plain English?”
The look on Max’s sister’s face was one of pure rage hidden by her usual charming blondness. “Why, future sister-in-law, what would I get out of doing anything to jeopardize our relationship? You have been nothing but good to my brother and me. Don’t you understand I’m not a savage and I have you to thank to be upright and breathing?”
“I hope you never forget that important fact either.” Mags straightened her expensive sweater dress and smoothed down phantom wrinkles. “I am going to check if Rose needs any help in the kitchen.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that,” Karina replied with a smirk on her face.
“Play your cards close to your vest, little girl. It is never a good idea to let people know everything you’re thinking.”
“I’ll keep that sound advice in mind.”
Max waited until Magnolia left the room before he stormed toward his sister, and roughly grabbed her upper right arm. “What the hell was that about? Are you purposely trying to piss off Mags? Let me remind you yet again what a bad thing that would be. She’s not lying about us only being alive because of her.”
“Fuck off, Maksymilian. Do you really think I’m afraid of that bitch? I have my own link into this dysfunctional criminal family, thank you very much. Good thing I’m an expert cocksucker—he’s absolutely smitten with me.”
“Oh God, please don’t tell me it’s Leonardo?”
“Ew, gross! The guy has to be at least your age! I don’t do pedophiles, thank you very much. Now, Vincent . . . he’s only in his mid-twenties, and for the first time in my life, I think I’m in love—”
“You do realize he’s as protective over Mags as I am?” Max tightened his grasp on his sister’s arm and her face reddened slightly by the pain.
“I’m not a village idiot and yes, I know he’s caught up by that bitch’s charms as much as you are but at least he has a viable excuse.”
Max let go of her arm and backed away quickly. “I don’t understand—viable excuse? What are you talking about?”
Karina laughed out loud, her cool blue eyes twinkling selfishly. “What I mean is that I have proven yet again you know nothing about this woman you are supposedly in love with, brother dearest.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me then, sister dear?”
“Angelo doesn’t trust you as far as he can throw you. He needed someone on the inside to look after his precious princess. Who better than her older brother?”
“What?” Max roared.
“Vincent is Mags’ half brother. He was sired by Angelo’s archenemy and is, technically, a Bassi. It was a huge family secret that was covered up, mostly because old man Bassi raped Sophia. Angelo and Rose raised him as one of their own but it was the catalyst to Sophia leaving here. She settled in Las Vegas and the rest is, of course, history.”
He let go of her arm and walked to the window. The snow continued to fall steadily though it didn’t look like there would be blizzard conditions.
“Why didn’t she let me know? I mean . . . if she’s known all along?”
“Has it ever occurred to you she doesn’t know? Angelo never told her and Vincent has been forbidden to utter a word about their shared parentage. He was the product of a violent and vicious rape, Max. Sophia wanted to abort him but Angelo refused. Instead, he offered her an alternative.”
“Some choice. Go into the family business or else. That’s not much of an alternative if you ask me.”
“How would you know? Ever heard of someone who died and came back to let us know how great shit was on the other side? Life is always a better alternative than death if you want my honest opinion.” Max didn’t have to turn around to know Karina had quietly left the room.
Now all he had to do was get through this sham of a Christmas Eve dinner and soon he’d be home again, in the arms of the woman he loved and the baby they’d created.
Chapter Nine
Mags
Christmas Eve dinner went more or less how I expected it to though I couldn’t help but gaze over at Max every now and again.
For the longest time, I thought something was wrong with me. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t getting pregnant especially when we’d never used contraception. Not exactly the smartest decision a couple has ever made but I was ready to be a wife and a mother.
I’d had my fun as a singleton. Assassin, wanton sex kitten, sex slave—I’d pretty much done everything I’d ever wanted to do. I’d seen the world and lived it up. Been a mistress and the one woman a man wanted to spend the rest of his life with; I had more than enough.
How could I want anything else than a family that loved me and would protect me at all costs? A man who would do anything for me? Yes, he came with baggage, including a sociopathic sister who was more deadly and beautiful than their mother. I sometimes felt like killing Mila was just hacking off the head of a multi-headed Lernaean Hydra—a frightening beast featured in Greek mythology—only for Karina to take her place as queen psycho bitch.
I wasn’t a fool; I knew Max was fully aware how dangerous his sister was and the reason why he treated her with kid gloves. There was nothing I could possibly do though. What I’d done to their mother had damn near destroyed me, and I’d rather rot in hell than murder another one of his family members. Nemesis or not, she would stay as long as she realized what her place was in the family, and tried not to overstep her boundaries, we would get along just fine.
After the traditional desserts of Panforte and Jangröt—one an Italian fruitcake and the other a rich Scandinavian rice pudding with almonds—Rose stood from the table and summoned me into the formal dining room, which was, unofficially, her space. None of the grandchildren or her sons would dare enter once they knew she was speaking to someone in confidence. Today, that lucky person happened to be me.
We sipped on strong espresso while she’d also laid out yet another selection of biscotti and traditional Scandinavian cookies.
“You’re going to make me fat,” I teased though I still grabbed an almond biscotti and took a bite out of it.
Rose merely smiled, her blue eyes bright. “I have to make sure you keep up your strength my dear. Don’t think just because I’m an old woman I can’t see the signs. The glow in your eyes, and the radiance of your complexion . . . you aren’t a woman who is simply in love—you’re pregnant.”
A blush infused my cheeks as I looked down at my espresso. “You’re right. I am. Eleven weeks. Uncle Angelo must not know though. I know he has an assignment he wants to send Max and I on before the New Year and I would like to go.”
“My lips are sealed as long as you assure me you’re all right and haven’t been experiencing any symptoms that would put the baby at risk.”
“Actually, this has been an easy going pregnancy . . . so far at least. I’ve suffered from the occasional bout of morning sickness but other than that, I feel fine most of the time. I get a bit queasy if I imbibe in alcohol but that’s about it. A mo
nster hangover followed by me hugging the toilet was pretty much how I figured it out,” I said in a quiet voice.
“Well, you’re carrying a daughter, my child. This is very good news. After all the grandsons Angelo and I have been bountifully blessed with, we’ll finally receive a granddaughter.” Rose’s smile faltered slightly as she stood and walked over to the elaborately decorated Christmas tree. “Please don’t think I’m trying to replace your mother, dear. I truly believe Sophia should have been here to see this most glorious moment in your life. If it were possible, Angelo would have married her—that’s how much he loved your mother. It was a possessive, obsessive love that bordered on madness.”
She turned toward me again. “I’m not implying anything untoward happened between the two of them. He was very much in love with her as his sister and confidante. Hell, he trusted her more than he trusted me. When she married your father, Riggs Reynolds, and moved to Las Vegas, it broke his heart. He’s never been the same since. I fear . . . others get the brunt of his resentment because your father is not alive to receive it.”
“You mean like Vincent?” My heart thundered in my chest with an intensity I rarely felt before. “I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped on Max’s conversation with his sister but she told him Vincent is my half brother. Something about a rape by the head of the Bassi family?”
Rose blanched before she made her way to her seat again and sat down across from me. She opened up her cigarette case and lit one quickly. “I’m sorry . . . I know second-hand smoke is bad for expecting mothers but what I’m about to tell you, well, it is the only way I can calm my nerves.”
It was me who stood this time and walked over to the perfect flocked Christmas tree and admired the ornaments and the fake gifts underneath, wrapped in elaborate boxes of different colored shiny paper—silver, gold, bronze and a metallic blue.
“Rose, please tell me. I have been through a lot in this life and I fear nothing could ever break my spirit. I’m not upset about Vincent—I only wish I’d known about him sooner. My mother shouldn’t only be a part of me, that’s all.”
“To tell you the truth would be to lie about the ‘untoward’ part of the relationship between Sophia and Angelo. He made up that story about that old man raping her and she was in cahoots with him the whole time. They couldn’t possibly tell the truth.” I turned around to face Rose as she dragged on her cigarette and the smoke escaped her mouth like a fine vapor. “Sophia knew what they felt for each other was . . . wrong. There was one night of impropriety between the two of them and Vincent was the result.”
I gasped out loud before I could stop myself. My head spun with unanswered thoughts and questions, forcing me to seek refuge across from Rose on the loveseat.
“Please . . . don’t hate your mother or Angelo. They were young adults—reckless in their behavior. Neither could have known what would happen.” Rose dragged from her cigarette again. “When I found out, I wanted to kill him. I refused to believe he’d break our marriage vows so damn easy and then demand I raise a son that didn’t belong to me.
“However, love is blindness. It makes you do strange things—like preventing you from seeing what you don’t want to see. I played the part and raised Vincent as my own. Sophia was beyond devastated and she needed an escape. Believe it or not, she came to me and begged for my help. I gave her some money and she fled here.
“Before Angelo could stop her and drag her back, she’d met your father and they genuinely fell in love, Magnolia. This wasn’t just a cover-up. She loved him with all her heart and when the time came, she died with him too. I will never forgive myself for my part in that. Perhaps if I’d never given her the money, she wouldn’t have gone to Las Vegas but then again, you’re here and I will never be sorry about your birth. I can’t. You’re the daughter I never had.”
I felt like I had been knocked in the stomach as the breath left my body and I inhaled with a difficulty that felt as if I were on the verge of an anxiety attack. I hadn’t had one of those in a long time but I suppose it was quite natural when one discovered they didn’t really know their mother—or their family in general—at all.
Who was this wildly reckless woman my aunt described to me because my mother had never been her, not with me. I remember a poised and elegant woman who always looked completely unmatched with my father. The enigmatic and larger than life Justin “Riggs” Reynolds was a tall man with muscles designed to maim and destroy, alabaster skin that didn’t tan but burned and a blondish brown beard he’d finally tamed until it was only within an inch from his face. He wore sunglasses a lot, and had the most brilliantly beautiful sky blue eyes with wrinkles around the edge from all the smiling and laughing he did with my mother though also the result of a pretty much permanent scowl he’d worn when a member of the White Knights MC.
We never talked much about his time in the former neo-Nazi club he’d belonged to and secretly had been a member of all the way until he died. Not because he didn’t want to leave—that had been part of the reason why he married my mother because she was considered “not white enough”—but because he brought in too much money for Brad and Nel through the pawn shop he owned. They liked the notoriety and were willing to put up with my mom if having my dad around made them almost legendary in the biker world, especially in Vegas.
They were whispered about in the same circles as the Lucifer’s Saints and Demon’s Bastards; bad ass biker clubs with international memberships and hard core members who had all served time at places like Ely State Prison here in Nevada; Riker’s Island in New York; Leavenworth in Kansas; Pelican Bay, San Quentin and Folsom State Prison in California.
That wasn’t the father I wanted to remember with his swastika and “White Power” tattoos transformed into beautiful images and words. I always wanted to remember him with my mother and how in love they were. They fought hard, loved hard and lived hard but they never let the lifestyle get in the way of my upbringing. I would have never known a damn thing about biker life if I hadn’t been abducted after their brutal murders at the age of thirteen. It was an unholy coincidence that changed my life—and my destiny—forever.
“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Rose closed the short distance between us and caressed my face with her soft hands. “You look sickly pale. Should I have one of the maids find Max?”
“No.” I pulled away and found myself feeling a bit too warm. “I’m fine. I just . . . I haven’t quite gotten used to or comfortable with knowing all these family secrets. It forces me to take unwanted trips down memory lane, and all I want to remember is my mom and dad—how special and irreplaceable they are to me. I suppose my dad more than anyone because there are photos of my mother all around this place but I never want to forget my father. I gave up his name for my mother’s family—the least I can do is never allow myself to obliterate him from the past. He was my world and so was my mom.”
Rose crushed her cigarette in its ash and pushed the crystal ashtray to the side. “That’s the problem about marrying into an Italian family, my dear. Your identity quickly becomes eclipsed by theirs. It doesn’t matter that the Abandonatos were Aberdrehers one hundred years ago. When that bastard, Mussolini, annexed the part of Austria the Aberdreher family resided, they were forced to abandon their Austrian identities. Thus the reason why they chose Abandonato. Notice how the word, ‘abandon’ is part of the surname? That, my dear, is not just a coincidence.”
My breath slowly returned back to normal and I was able to smile at Rose. “Nothing ever is.”
We looked at each other for a long time before she and I both burst into much needed laughter.
Max, Karina and I returned back to our home late that evening, all stuck in our own thoughts.
I didn’t know exactly what they were thinking about but I didn’t have to be a mind reader to surmise it probably had something to do with the assignment we were finally given the details to by Angelo shortly before we left.
It was such a delicate yet dangerous arrangement
. Not only would Max and I be involved but so would Karina and Vincent.
Apparently it was a message to old man Bassi—not because the man had done anything out of his nature, unless his nature was to deal with Koslakov. The man had to make money where he could and since he was mostly hiding out with unconfirmed sightings everywhere from Moscow to San Francisco, it was impossible to catch him for the time being but my uncle could make it a very unsavory proposition to do business with him.
The only organization that had the “go-ahead” to deal with Dimitri Koslakov was the Lucifer Saints but that was only because they were feeding Raymond and Angelo information about him every time they made contact.
In fact, two of the members from the Saints would accompany us to Las Vegas. Not to make sure we completed the job but merely as back up if we needed any help. I knew Christian “Cricket” Henderson well enough to know that he was a cold-hearted but loyal bastard who would defend us with his life but the part about Edward “Kink” Gillespie accompanying us would be downright awkward at best and could come to some serious blows at worse.
Max didn’t tell me a lot about his relationship with his father, brother or his other half-sister, Chantal, though I knew he’d met them all on multiple occasions and even attended a few Saints events including cookouts and barbeques. I always plead a headache and Max never pushed me though Karina was more than happy to attend with him.
I wasn’t ready to face that part of my life yet, especially when I knew I was pregnant with a child that was not only my first son’s half brother but also his cousin. I’d never dreamed in a million years I would fall in love with two men who happened to be fraternal twins separated at birth and not raised together.
Part of me felt a bit skanky about the whole situation. I didn’t know my first son; members of the White Knights were raising him yet he lived less than twenty miles from where I currently resided. I’d never snuck over to Black Oak, not because it was an unsavory part of town and pretty much WK territory but because I didn’t want to see the little boy Kink and I had sired together.