by SE Chardou
Why the sudden was he the one who seemed nervous now while Magnolia was perfectly calm and content as they stepped out of the car and walked towards the restaurant. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he opened the door and ushered them into the small boutique restaurant.
After confirming their reservation with the Maître D’, they were seated by a professional young waiter and left with a wine menu at the table. Max picked it up before he set it down.
“I don’t want to be presumptuous. Maybe I should wait until Angelo gets here and he can choose the wine.”
Mags grabbed his hand closest to her own and squeezed lightly as she looked into his eyes. “Don’t worry. Nothing will happen to you. If I have anything to say about it, I’ll let Angelo know you had nothing to do with what happened to me.”
He nodded but his heart skipped a beat the moment Angelo walked into the restaurant. He spoke to a middle-aged black man—Raymond Jackson—as they strolled to the table.
Angelo stopped and turned to Magnolia who got up from her seat and smiled warmly before she embraced Angelo and followed it with a warm embrace in Raymond’s arms as well.
Finally, the two men acknowledged Max but they could barely hide the distaste in their faces for him. And why should they feel any different when they knew who had previously employed him?
They took their seats across from him and Mags as she naturally slipped their hands together and clutched his.
Angelo’s arctic gaze disarmed Max instantly. “When you called me and told me what this was about, I thought you were pullin’ some shit for your boss. Then I heard about what happened in the Caribbean with Kitaev and I gotta ask if that was you?”
“Yes, it was. I needed you and your business partner, Mr. Jackson, to know I am serious about this proposition. This isn’t a double cross and I know you have no reason to believe me. However, you can look into Mags’ eyes and see that we’re ready to do whatever is necessary to prove our loyalty to you,” he responded in a respectful manner.
The waiter immediately materialized again at the table and Raymond ordered two bottles of aged Cabernet Sauvignon before they continued their conversation.
“Max was worried you would bring an army with you, Uncle.” Mags’ smile could warm the iciest heart. “I told him you wouldn’t do that though. You just wanted to make sure I was safe and sound.”
Angelo stared from Mags to Max. “Well . . . is she? Safe and sound, I mean.”
“She is now,” Max said as he looked from Angelo to a silent Raymond. “I’m not going to lie to you. The men who had her—they were very harsh with her but they also knew if they went too far they would eventually have to deal with you.”
“Is that why we got those calls from Brad and Nel Decker? They ate crow all right—in fact they were willing to do just about anything for us not to kill their asses,” Raymond said in a quiet voice. “Angelo and I are businessmen first but this is family we’re talkin’ about. We can’t murder ’em though, not when they used a sorry ass excuse they were just followin’ orders . . . your orders, Mr. Cartier—”
“It’s Gillespie now,” Max cut in.
“Oh, so now you wanna conveniently own up to bein’ Sean’s son because you know that we won’t be able to touch you, bein’ a Saint by default an’ all.” Angelo shook his head with disgust as the waiter came back, allowed the two men to sample the wine before he poured them all each half glasses and walked away.
“No, not at all. I haven’t told my father or my brother about me using the name because it has been imperative we keep a low profile. As for what Brad and Nel were doing, it is true they were following orders but I never had that kind of power. Nothing went on Dimitri didn’t know about.” Max drank tentatively from his glass of wine.
“Why Sophia?” Angelo blurted out rudely. “Yeah, she married the wrong man but . . . I don’t get it.”
“Dimitri knew the truth about Sophia’s paternity. He knew you two were half-siblings—not cousins. Isn’t that why you insist Mags calls you her uncle as opposed to her second cousin?”
“Uncle Angelo, is that true?” Mags wondered out loud.
He nodded dismissively. “Yeah, sweetheart, it’s true. But why didn’t that cowardly Russian bastard come after me? Why my poor sister who never hurt another soul in her life? Is that how you people operate?”
“It’s how Dimitri operates.” Max met Angelo’s eyes. “I can get you everything you need to know about him. Hell, I will help you any way that’s possible. I planned to kill off all his associates one by one before I went after him—”
“Enough with that bullshit,” Raymond cut off. “We hurt him in the same way he hurt Angelo. He has a sister. Zusha Koslakova. We want her dead. Then we want to take away all his connections, one by one. He’s going down but I’ve got some Federal contacts. It won’t be any of this cushiony Club Med pentitiary bullshit either. He will be implicated and he’ll go to prison for the rest of his life over there at Supermax in Colorado.”
“You don’t want to kill him?” Max wondered in a perplexed voice.
“Dead is too easy for that motherfucker—he’s gonna pay.” Angelo swigged from his red wine. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re good at tracking people, right? Track him like you would kill ’em only I need everythin’ he’s doing in hardcore black and white photographs. We give ’em to our connections in the FBI and they deal with him.
“By the time they get ready to wrap the case, I want the ATF, DEA, CIA and Interpol on his fuckin’ ass fighting with the Feds to take him down. I want the US Marshalls at his wife’s door and her ass is gonna turn state’s evidence or she gets gone real quick. You think I don’t have connections in Florida? Think again. I want that whole motherfucker’s empire to crumble around him and then, I want his ass locked up for the rest of his natural born life. You think you can do that?”
Max stared at Angelo. “I could put a bullet in his head. Why won’t you let me?”
“You’re engaged to his niece, boy,” Raymond replied. “What good will you be to Magnolia if you make her a widow before she’s thirty? You wanna be part of our empire? You do things our way. And sometimes, dead ain’t better.”
Angelo steeped his fingers together. “I know what they did to Magnolia. I don’t want her to ever have to kill another human being again unless it’s an act of self-defense. We all know what kind of toll that takes on the conscience. She’s suffered enough in her young life. If you want to be with her, you will treat her right and she won’t live a vagabond lifestyle, not if I have anything to do with it.”
“Where will we live?” Magnolia inquired softly.
Angelo looked around the swanky restaurant. “You got a nice place here to stay? I suggest you sell it. You’re comin’ back with us to Northern Nevada. We can protect you better there. Besides, I need updates and Max will be gone a lot—I can’t have you not livin’ in the same location as me. We already have bought you two a beautiful house that overlooks Lake Tahoe. It goes without sayin’ that you’ll have security and what not. It’s no secret Dimitri knows you two are protected now. I called him myself and told ’em. He wasn’t happy but if he lays another hand on ya, I’ll have every family in the state down on him so fast, he won’t be able to wipe his ass before he’s taken out.”
“So, are you in or out?” Raymond swigged from his wine as he studied Max.
“I’m in,” he replied.
“Fuckin’ Russians ain’t got no imagination.” Angelo shook his head sadly. “You know that son of a bitch stole my name? When I was younger and a real bastardo, I gave my father pure hell. My old man used to call me ‘il diavolo,’ as in ‘Il diavolo sta arrivando.’ When I heard the son of bitch was callin’ himself the devil, I wondered if he got his English all messed up and meant the anti-Christ ’cause there’s only one man to be feared and that sure as shit ain’t Dimitri.”
Max finished his wine as all four of them fell into easy conversation afterwards.
He knew
it wasn’t over and although Angelo seemed like a perfectly reasonable guy, he had more reason to fear him now than he ever did Dimitri. Abandonato’s reputation preceded him—in fact, the reason why he and Raymond were so buddy-buddy wasn’t because they didn’t have an army of trusted soldiers. They knew no one was tougher than the combined strength the two of them presented together as a united front.
Now he’d had the chance to observe them, he knew no truer statement had ever been proclaimed.
They had a relaxing dinner, which Max was able to look over at his dashing fiancée and smile secretly at her. She returned it easily and he could honestly say he’d never been more content in his life.
Max knew another chapter of his life was opening up just as the previous one had closed for good. Both Angelo and Raymond confirmed it as the four of them said their goodbyes on the street.
There were bodyguards watching every corner of the street; Angelo and Raymond both embraced Mags again.
“I expect you two back in Nevada by next week. Don’t make me send your cousins after you.”
“We’ll be back, Uncle Angelo,” Mags replied as Max wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Is that a promise?” Raymond glared at Max.
He nodded once curtly. “Yes, we’ll back next week.”
“Oh yeah . . . welcome to the family,” Angelo said. “We may not look like much but the Abandonatos know how to take care of our own. You marry my niece, you marry into our family, not the other way around. I let you off the hook ’cause Mags looks ecstatic with you and if it wasn’t real, I’d know it faster than a hooker can give head. You break her heart and I break your kneecaps . . . first. Then, I’m gonna work you over in Biblical proportions and mail your body parts back to your plastic mama in Boca Raton. You got that?”
“Yes, sir.” Max attempted to smile but fell short.
“Call us when you get to Nevada. We got work for you to do. As far as Raymond and I are concerned, you never worked for the enemy. Now that you’ve sold your soul to the devil, I hope vengeance on your old mentor is as sweet as you expect it to taste. I’d hate to disappoint.” Angelo grinned though the look didn’t hold an ounce of mirth to it.
Max and Mags walked over to their Range Rover. As soon as they were safely inside, he drove them back to their apartment building and they took the elevator in silence up to their penthouse.
“Well, that didn’t go too bad, did it?” she inquired after they’d changed clothes and she lay nestled in his arms on the sofa.
Max stole a glance of her profile. “For you, maybe. I feel like those two men just sliced off my balls and took them back to Lake Tahoe.”
Mags laughed out loud before her hand wandered between his legs and cupped his scrotum. “Looks like they’re still there to me.”
He chuckled as he shook his head. “Very funny, Mags.”
“Not really but do you wanna know what’s funny? All this time we thought once we escaped Dimitri we would be free of the devil. Not only were we wrong but it turns out he’s my uncle and I’m his niece. How twisted is that?”
“Very,” Max replied as she grabbed the remote and channel-surfed. “Just think of it this way though . . . instead of prey, at least now we’re pawns.”
She smirked. “That’s true. And I’d rather be a pawn any day than prey.”
“Agreed.”
As their lips met again, Max couldn’t get the whole sense of déjà vu and irony out of his head. They wouldn’t have to live their lives on the run after all. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t still be bad asses—his intuition told him his life would hardly be sedentary or boring while working for Angelo Abandonato and Raymond Jackson. However, they had a plane to catch that would take them right back to where their adventure began.
It turned out their destiny was right where they’d left it—in Northern Nevada.
And if home lay with the heart then he was content and ready to go back. If only to face his complicated past, his family, his demons . . . and to make a life with the woman who owned his black heart and tainted soul.
Magnolia
Although we were supposed to return to Northern Nevada the following week, a couple of days later, Max received a phone call from Uncle Angelo and Raymond. He was needed in Las Vegas for an emergency meeting while I would be left on my own in New Orleans.
Well, at least that was what I told Max at Louis Armstrong Airport as I dropped him off in front of the Southwest Airlines check-in area. He wouldn’t check any luggage; instead he would retrieve his first-class boarding pass and walk directly to the gate where he’d catch a direct flight to McCarran International Airport.
“Be safe and I love you.” I kissed him goodbye.
“Love you too,” he murmured as soon as our kiss ended. “Remember, no more than two days and I want a call from you telling me you’re decorating our Lake Tahoe home with Mrs. Jackson, you got it?”
“Yes, Drill Sergeant,” I mocked.
Max’s aquamarine eyes narrowed. “Seriously, Mags. It’s not safe for you. Don’t stay in one place too long.”
“I won’t.” I smiled brilliantly as he kissed me again before he opened the passenger door and stepped out.
He turned around and pantomimed a telephone with his hand while he lip synced, “Call me.”
I nodded my head before I blew him a kiss.
My own flight to Miami International Airport left in a couple of hours. I parked the Range Rover in short term parking, called Darby to come retrieve it from the airport and grabbed my own suitcase from the trunk.
It was a simple, black hard-shell carryon that along with my stylish Kate Spade leather handbag would be the only items I was taking with me on board for the flight.
What I failed to mention to Max was I’d already spoken privately to Angelo. As a matter of fact, we’d been communicating since he and I had to flee Northern Nevada. I’d kept my uncle abreast on the situation the whole time so if at any part of the operation I felt like Max might double cross me, I had backup.
I loved him with all my heart but until the shooting incident with his mother before we left Florida, I couldn’t say I completely trusted him.
Angelo had given me updates the whole time about what he’d done when he wasn’t in my presence. Every time I acted casual and inquired about his activities when we weren’t together and he’d told me the truth, I felt more and more like shit for not believing him in the first place.
Of course I knew Angelo was really my mother’s half-brother and my uncle. I also knew about Max’s role in watching over me during the whole twelve years I’d been abducted. I couldn’t really fault him too much at the beginning; he was a kid himself at eighteen and sent on an assignment he had absolutely no power to control.
I understood how those very set of circumstances could have turned me not into just a ward he had to look out for but someone he wanted to own and control. It also made sense why he looked familiar to me but I couldn’t place him. I’d seen him talking to Brad and Nel on multiple occasions over the years but he always wore blacker than black Ray-Bans and we were never introduced.
Max had confessed one night how there was no such thing as a coincidence. I’d been confused why he brought it up at all until he told me it was Mila who’d suggested to Dimitri he should work with the Saints and go after Abandonato in the first place. His mentor had become extremely interested in why his wife had a hard on for toppling Angelo Abandonato, and why Mila insisted with such clear, unwavering conviction.
Mila and Angelo had been close at one time; in fact, he’d supposedly considered leaving his wife for her—though this part I found hard to believe because no woman would ever convince my uncle to leave Aunt Rose—but apparently my mother had talked him out of it. In fact, she spoke to Rose and within a day, not only was Mila out on her ass at whatever strip club she’d been working in Vegas at the time but she was on a flight to Miami where she eventually met Dimitri in the first place and the rest was history.
Maybe Max could forgive the bitch that’d put this whole plan into action—she was his mother after all—but I couldn’t. No one would harm my family and get away with it . . . ever.
Angelo called me right before my flight was announced and I immediately answered the call on a Samsung Galaxy burner.
“Max is on his way to me now,” he replied without greeting.
“Okay. Make sure to keep him busy and away from his phone. Suggest he use burners at all time, even when he contacts me. I don’t want that bitch to be able to warn him. She’s fucking dead, Angelo. That’s all there is to it.” My voice was so low, it was merely a whisper only he heard.
“After you finish your vendetta in Miami, I want your ass on a plane to Lake Tahoe. Rose is expectin’ you. She was pissed I allowed you to do this by yourself—she wanted to come and give you a hand but I told her you were good.”
I laughed out loud. “This’ll be a piece of cake.”
“Yeah, I know, sweetie, but that don’t mean I’m happy about it.” Angelo sighed. “All those wasted years, watchin’ you grow, knowin’ what was bein’ done to ya and yet, I couldn’t do shit. I’ll never forgive myself for that shit, Magnolia.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Uncle.” I smiled although I knew he couldn’t see it. “You know, sometimes we gotta let bad shit happen just so all the dominoes can fall into line. We built a solid case against Dimitri but it still isn’t enough. The Saints’ll pull their weight and once we know it’s ironclad, we’ll strike. My parents will not have died in vein, especially since their death will be on his hands along with a laundry list of crimes we can pin on him. No defense lawyer in the country will be able to save him.”
“Call me when you get to Miami and have a safe flight, honey. Remember, sangue per sangue. Onore per la famiglia prima di tutto. La vendetta è il vostro da execute. Buona fortuna.”