“Fair warning, if I shoot you in the kidney—this conversation proves you deserved it.” I stood and grabbed another glass then sat back down.
He drummed his fingertips against the table.
Renee made her way over to us and sat. In the time I’d graphically plotted Chase’s murder—she’d made a sandwich.
“So Renee…” Chase smiled at her. Where the hell was a tranq gun when a guy needed it? A muzzle. Anything. “Are you excited to finish school?”
Her face lit up.
Shit. I already didn’t want to let her go.
Couldn’t even think about facing a day where I couldn’t at least watch her, keep her safe. What kind of screwed-up brain was I suffering with? It wasn’t just borderline stalking.
It was real shit that got you on Dateline, where friends and family members go, “He was just so attentive to her every need,” AKA, he was a fucking stalker.
“I can’t wait.” She beamed. Shit, she was actually beaming. I stared into my wine and listened to her voice. I told myself her face wasn’t alive with excitement. I told myself she was just riding the high of my tongue.
I lied.
“You have what? Five days left?”
“Six,” she corrected.
“Clearly you’re making the most of it,” he commented.
I jerked my head in his direction. “Meaning what?”
His face was innocent. But nothing Chase said or did was ever without reason. He simply shrugged. “Hanging out with the kids. Why? What did you think I meant?”
I clenched my teeth while Chase poured another glass of wine and winked at Renee like he had a right to.
The front door opened. Nixon stomped through and shut it behind him with a bang. “Fucking Russians.”
“Here, here.” Chase lifted his glass to his lips. “Trouble at the club?”
“He’s out of control.” Nixon’s eyes were wild. He raked a hand through his inky black hair. “Petrov makes me wish for all female kids—that’s how much I want to strangle him. He defies us on purpose just to see how far he can push us, and he’s a nineteen-year-old piece of shit!”
“Careful, Dante’s a boss at twenty,” Chase warned.
“Dante listens to you.” He nodded to Chase. “He thinks of you as an older brother, you know that.”
Guilt flashed across Chase’s face. “Yeah, I know.”
“Do you need me to go rough him up a bit?” I asked casually. I wouldn’t mind the release. God knew I needed one.
Nixon let out a rough exhale. “Don’t rough him up, we’re not supposed to touch him.”
I deflated.
“But…” He grinned. “You can have some fun with his men. Besides, the sick bastard actually likes when others get tortured, even if they’re loyal to him.”
“Consider it done.” I stood.
“One more thing.” He glanced at Renee.
My heart dropped.
Did he know?
Could he see the telltale puffiness of her lips?
The heavy rise and fall of her chest?
“I told you we needed to talk, the three of us…” He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. “Renee, you…you aren’t returning to school.”
Angry tears rimmed her eyes. “What?”
“You’re not going.” He said it softer, his eyes darting to Chase. “That’s final.”
“That’s final?” Renee crossed her arms. “Who died and made you my father? I want to talk to him. If he says no, then I’ll stay.”
“You can’t,” Nixon whispered.
“Why the hell not?” she yelled.
“Your father’s dead.” Nixon reached across the table and covered her hand with his.
“No.” She shook her head. “No, no, you don’t understand, he’s just out…on business for the Nicolasis. He’s not….” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Sweetheart…” Nixon squeezed his eyes shut. “He was playing both sides, causing us to lose good men who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’s been taken care of.”
“So you killed him!” she roared.
“No.” He blinked over at me.
Fuck. “I did,” I admitted.
She sucked in a breath of heavy betrayal and looked away, giving me her back just as I deserved.
“Innocent lives were being lost because of him, Renee. Families were getting exposed.” Nixon tried to reason with her. He was still hiding the truth but doing it in the only way that still kept her safe. It didn’t matter though. He was her father. It would never matter. We can’t control who we love. “It had to be done.”
“Did it?” Her voice was heavy with tears.
Shit. I braced myself against the chair.
“Vic?” Nixon nodded to the door. “Go, we’ll be fine.”
I didn’t want to go.
My fingers turned white as I gripped the chair.
Nixon frowned as a war raged in my heart.
He was boss to the richest family in the Cosa Nostra.
He was boss.
And yet I hesitated.
Hesitation meant a swift death.
At this moment he was no longer my cousin or my friend.
He was judge, jury, and executioner.
My needs didn’t matter.
My desires could go to hell.
My eyes flickered to Renee. I wanted to draw her up into my arms, kiss her tears, tell her I was sorry that she’d known death twice since knowing me.
So damn sorry.
“Vic,” Nixon growled. “I won’t ask you twice.”
I inclined my head and slammed the door hard behind me.
Let him feel anger.
It was nowhere close to the rage pounding in my body.
Chapter Thirteen
Renee
Tears blurred my vision as I sat in Nixon’s office and waited for whatever was supposed to come next. Pictures lined his walls. A dark mahogany desk sat toward the back of the room. The place smelled just as expensive as it looked. I was sitting in a red leather wing-backed chair that was probably heavier than a Ford Focus.
I felt surrounded by choking loneliness in that room.
By death and cold.
I could still feel my father’s arms around me, see the look on his face when he promised he would take care of my mom and me.
My hands shook in my lap as Nixon sat back in his chair and stared me down like he wasn’t quite sure what to say.
I wiped away a stray tear. “Should I be worried?”
“Worried?” His eyebrows drew together. “About what?”
“Getting killed if I break one of the rules?”
He sighed and looked away from my face, his gaze focused on a picture on his wall. “Renee, I will do anything to protect those who live under my household. I would die for you—any of the men wouldn’t even blink. Do you really think so little of us that we would kill you for being human?”
“You killed him.”
He bit down on his lower lip, a look of frustration crossing his face. “What if I told you that he got ten people killed, including children? What if I told you he messed up and couldn’t find a way out of it? What if I told you I don’t even know how it went down because Vic doesn’t want to burden me with it—but that I know your dad begged for it?”
“Begged for death!” I yelled.
“Begged for a quick death without suffering—I guarantee he would have suffered for days, maybe even weeks, his wife, children…” His voice trailed off. “Things in our life are not black and white. We exist in a very gray area, constantly asking if the sin justifies those who are saved. This isn’t violence to be violent—this is survival for a future. You must understand that. And if you don’t? Well then I can’t have someone that close-minded watching my daughter. Think about it—and if you want to quit your job, I’ll find a safe house for you, but until you turn twenty-two, you will need protection.”
“Why twenty-two?” I frowned. “That’s in three months.
”
“In three months we’ll be closing in on the holidays. I figured you’d want to be with your mom.”
Something wasn’t adding up. I narrowed my eyes. “My mom, does she know?”
“Yes.”
Betrayal twisted like a knife in my gut. “And she couldn’t bring herself to tell me…why?”
“I wanted to talk to you first. To make sure you were okay before she dropped the bomb… Seems like I misjudged the situation—since you would have preferred hearing it over the phone while your mom drank her sorrows away in Vegas—I won’t make the mistake again.” He nodded to the door.
I stood on wobbly legs and walked over to the door, getting a sudden vision of Vic and me pressed against it, our mouths wild, our tongues tangling.
I watch the nanny.
With a sigh, I grabbed the doorknob and jerked the door open.
Chase was standing there with a bottle of wine in his hand and a glass. He offered them to me. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, his voice sounded tired as he spoke slowly. “Don’t take out all your anger on him. He was just doing his job.”
I looked away. “His job was to kill my family member.”
“No.” Chase sidestepped me. “His job was to keep us safe. And he did that. It’s not just about the blood that’s dead in the ground—it’s about the blood still living. Go to sleep.”
Excused, I carried the bottle back to my room along with the wine glass and set them both on the nightstand.
The chair from the previous night was still next to the bed.
It was empty.
Tears filled my eyes as I grabbed a blanket and dragged it over to the chair then sat and drew my knees up to my chest. I wasn’t going back to school. My father was gone. My life was over.
And still, still I could smell Vic.
Still, I felt his arms wrap around me in my imagination.
How could someone be both your strength and your nightmare?
My eyes fluttered closed on a deep sigh.
Chapter Fourteen
Vic
I knocked on the black metal door three times. It opened, revealing a man in a red head-to-toe suit with a black tie. He was wearing a cape that swept the ground in a way that reminded me of a historical novel.
“Password.”
“Club Tempt,” I said in perfect Russian.
The door opened wider.
The smell of cigars and expensive cologne filled the air, swirled around my head as I made my way down the familiar halls. Every type of woman hung off every type of man. They all had masks covering their faces, drinks in their hands, and if rap music hadn’t been playing, I’d have assumed that I’d gone back in time to a masquerade in underground London.
The men wore top hats, dominos, expensive clothes that would be extremely out of place on the streets. I was completely out of place in jeans and a black cotton shirt.
The carpet was a blood red, and dark flickering candles lit the narrow hallways with their small alcoves where you’d see people snickering and stripping each other.
And then the worst part.
The dangling key on every woman’s ankle.
And the lock tattoo that accompanied it.
With a sigh, I made my way down another hall and then into the main dance area where music pumped from loud speakers. Red velvet couches were draped in people half-dressed and groping one another, enjoying each other’s company, and drunken kissing. A den of iniquity.
Fun.
Petrov was standing watch in the VIP section like a king looking over his land. A cruel smile spread across his face and then he crooked his finger at me.
I took the stairs two at a time and when a bouncer stared me down and refused to pull back the velvet rope, I gripped him by the neck with one hand and barked, “Problem?”
“No,” he croaked.
“Good, good.” I slowly pulled my hand away and adjusted his tie then slapped him lightly on the right cheek. “We’ve got business.”
Petrov inclined his head at us. “Leave us, D.”
I made my way toward where Petrov was standing over the balcony. “He’s charming.”
“Isn’t he, though?” Petrov grinned. “I find him amusing.”
“Dumb as a bag of rocks then?”
“The dumb ones are easier to persuade…and they’re fearful they’ll never make as much money as what I pay them—the dumb ones keep me safe. They keep what’s happening here safe.”
I gripped the railings. “Nixon’s upset.”
He snorted. “Nixon’s always upset. What else is new? He said I could handle my business the way I want to, just because I’m slowing down the process doesn’t mean I don’t mean to take down the empire my father built. But there are key players I need on my side, and I can’t just force my hand. Nixon knows this.”
I nodded. “He knows it. I know it. The problem is that you’re getting in too deep. How many times have you been out on the floor? How many times have you gone to the sales? My information says your hand has been in every part of this little front for slavery—you’re in too deep.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Have you slept with any of them?” I asked boldly.
His jaw flexed. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, so it’s love?”
He slammed his hands down on the railing and then closed his eyes like he was trying to calm himself. “Don’t question me.”
I turned. “Don’t give us a reason to,” I whispered in his ear. Then I grabbed his hand like I was going to shake it, and broke his index finger.
It snapped easily.
He didn’t cry out.
He just narrowed his eyes at me like he was annoyed I’d just hurt him and he couldn’t do anything about it without drawing attention.
“A reminder.” I inclined my head. “Of who you belong to. Of what the families will do to you if you double-cross them.”
He inhaled a deep breath and held his hand. “Chaos is my control. Let me do things the way I see fit. I’ve already freed fifty girls. That’s fifty fewer girls worrying about drug addiction or getting beat to death.”
I nodded. “And the other two hundred?”
“You’ll see…” He grabbed a drink from the table with his left hand. “I’ll show you all…you think you know everything, arrogant bastard Italians. I have my hand in families across the world. Don’t make petty threats you aren’t willing to back. Besides, you need this more than I do. I hold the keys to the house. You’re simply a buyer in a long line of other buyers who don’t walk into my domain and break appendages.” He grinned and lifted the glass to his lips. “Have a good night, Vic.”
I stared him down, noticing his bluff, wondering why it was necessary. And then I saw a man and woman sitting at the VIP bar. A familiar man and woman.
“Einstein.” I grinned at the beautiful, clever girl who frankly knew too much about our dealings. “Funny seeing you in our city.”
Her smile didn’t waver. “Yeah, well, we’re doing a little bit of research.”
“Anything I can help with? The Bordello family has always been helpful to us. I would love to return the favor.”
Her eyes flickered to Andrei then back to me. “We’re looking for information on someone…”
“Ah, you suspected I’d come?”
“I hoped,” she admitted. “I need Phoenix.”
I sighed. “Must be bad if you need a Nicolasi who holds all the scary information in every crime family in the world.”
Her smile fell a bit.
“Shit, I’ll let him know to expect a visit.”
“Figured it would smooth things over.” Einstein tossed back the rest of her drink in one gulp. “At least it would help.”
I snorted. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” I kissed both of her cheeks, nodded to the man next to her and escorted myself from the dark club, hating that I took part of the stench with me into my G Wagon. Hating the slavery I couldn’t stop—the slav
ery we had to support by default before we could bring it down. I saw Renee in those women dancing, the fear in their eyes when they were taken to the back room. Nobody returned from that room. I hated that she looked at me the way those women looked at the men they danced with.
I hated that she really believed I was a monster now that she knew I’d killed her father.
My thoughts were so consuming, I didn’t even realize I’d driven back to the house until the iron gates opened.
I parked in the garage and walked into the house. It was quiet. Dark.
“How’d it go?” Nixon asked from the shadowy corner of the living room, like he was waiting up for me.
I tossed my keys onto the table. “As good as can be expected.” I frowned then. “Saw one of the Bordellos.”
“Oh? That’s pretty far to travel for a meeting. We don’t deal with other family drama. We have enough on our hands.” His voice sounded strained, yet curious. “What the hell do they want?”
“Info from Phoenix.”
He snorted. “God help us all.”
I chuckled and then sobered. “How did it go with Renee?”
“Oh, let’s see.” Nixon stood and walked over to me. “She yelled, cried, then yelled some more, and then didn’t believe me when I told her that her father asked for a swift death rather than torture.”
My heart cracked in my chest as I listened.
“I told her you’re one of the best men I know, and I’m sorry you were put in that position.”
“You would have done the same thing.”
“Some days…yes. Others…Well, let’s just say seeing others suffer makes you feel a lot better.”
Chapter Fifteen
Renee
Heat wrapped itself around my body. It soothed my soul. I think I took my first deep breath in those seconds, my first big exhale, followed by another deep breath. I pressed my hand against the heat, and came into contact with a hard chest. I didn’t even care that it was the chest of my father’s murderer.
Envy: An Eagle Elite Novella Page 7