by May Gordon
Dark Souls
Crime Kings Book 1
May Gordon
Copyright © 2018 by May Gordon
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Photo: Bigstock Photos
Cover Design: May Gordon
Editor: Elizabeth Neal
Created with Vellum
About the Author
May Gordon
Bringing you sweet, sexy, safe reads.
Happily ever after guarantee.
Thank You
First, as always, I want to thank my editor Elizabeth Neal. You always go above and beyond, and its always a pleasure working with you.
Thank you to my readers for your continued support! I appreciate you more than you know!
Thank finally thank you to my husband! Because of your encouragement, I finally took the chance to start writing.
Thank you!
Dark Souls
When Lawson, D.C.’s biggest kingpin, receives a call from his enemy claiming they kidnapped his woman, he wants to laugh in their faces. Until he hears Cleo’s voice for the first time and quickly realizes they’re right. She will be his. Now he’ll do everything in his power to get her back and keep her. Forever.
Cleo knows the streets and gangs. Her time with both taught her how to take care of herself. Lessons she’ll need when she’s kidnapped. But when Lawson charges in and saves her, vowing to protect her at all costs, she realizes having someone to share a life with is what she’s been missing.
Unfortunately, Lawson’s position comes with no shortage of enemies. Can he and his new Queen survive the dark perils that lay ahead of them?
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue 1
Epilogue 2
Thank You
More Crime Kings
Coming Soon
Recommended Reads
Chapter 1
Cleo
“Mamka mu,” I curse in Bulgarian as I kneel to gather the papers I dropped. I’ve just finished the monthly books for “Fathers,” the cigar bar where I work.
I was born in Bulgaria and raised on the streets. I don’t even remember my parents. I lived in the underworld there all my life. I was given the name Cleo by others in the same situation because I apparently look like Cleopatra. Tall, darker skinned, long black hair, and honey brown eyes.
I fought hard to survive and was forced to see and do things to make that happen. When I was ten, I was used as a messenger between gangs and Ivo, the Boss of the Mrŭsni kucheta, or Dirty Dogs as they would say in English. I eventually moved up in the world and started counting money for them. That was how I realized I had a thing for math. It wasn’t long before the Boss did too.
Since then, I was used as their numbers girl. I did all of their books. Drugs, guns, whores, anything that brought money in, I kept track of it. At first, life was rough, though better than living on the streets. It was still a daily challenge to fight and survive. Thankfully, I was protected enough not to get raped, but wasn’t a stranger to the cruelty of some members. As I got older, Ivo must’ve seen some value in me because he taught me English and other valuable lessons.
Years later we found ourselves coming to America for an arms deal. They had enough power and pull to get me into the country to help with it. That’s when we were attacked and wiped out by a low-level gang in New York. I somehow escaped but not without a bullet or two. And once again, now at the age of sixteen, I found myself living on the streets. This time not knowing if my documentation would hold up. If not, I had to lay low. I didn’t want to go back to Bulgaria, with Ivo dead there was no telling who would take over, and if I would be treated as well.
Luckily, I had more experience and knowledge this time around. I picked up odd jobs here and there under the table, mostly for small loan sharks, or doing the books for other illegal side businesses. I moved around a lot, never wanting to stay in one place for too long. Seven years later, I find myself here after recently moving to Washington, D.C. That’s where I met Fred, the manager of “Fathers.” I told him of my skills and he hired me on the spot to do the accounting. He had a small apartment over the bar and rented it to me. I’ve been here for six months now and it already seems like home, something I’m not accustomed to. I’ve made quite a few friends so far. I’ve started feeling a sense wonder that my soul may eventually be free from the darkness I’ve felt my whole life.
I hear Fred chuckle when he enters the office. “I can always tell you’re angry when you start speaking Bulgarian.” He bends down and helps me pick up the papers.
“I just organized these,” I mutter. My accent sounding thicker than normal, something that happens when I’m worked up or emotional.
Fred puts the papers on the table and grabs my hand, leading me towards to bar. “Come eat, dear. You’ve been at it for hours.” Fred is a nice man in his early fifties. He’s still in great shape, and funny too. If I had a father I would hope he would be like Fred. He sits me at my usual booth. “I’ll put in your order, dear.” And he walks off.
I lean my head back, taking a few breaths. I should tell Fred about the problem with this month’s books. Someone is stealing. It pisses me off that anyone would take advantage of Fred like that. He works hard, and the environment of this lounge is relaxing. It’s meant for the rich sharks to be able to have a long smoke and a stiff drink after a hard day’s work. It’s an exclusive club, and never overcrowded. Maybe that’s why I like it so much, the quiet to relax and think without being alone. I grab the drink menu deciding to have a little something before heading back to work.
“Cleo!” I look up and see Liam and the others heading my way.
I give them a bright smile. “Hey, guys.” I scoot over to give them room.
Liam, Owen, Andrew, and Levi all work for a loan shark, or middle man of some sort. The same guy that owns this very bar. We don’t talk about their jobs directly, only in hypotheticals. I know the drills with this type. The less you know the safer you are. But I guess, technically speaking, their boss is also mine. We meet the first night I moved in and became fast friends. The little I do know about them is that Liam is the boss’s right-hand man, Owen the enforcer, Andrew the tech wiz, and Levi is what we like to call the baby, the young recruit we like to tease.
“Haven’t seen you in a few days. How are things?” I ask them.
“Yeah, shit is going down. Boss has been keeping us busy,” Liam tells me.
Fred heads to our booth. “Boys how are you?” He greets them.
“In desperate need of a drink,” Owen grunts out. He’s a man of few words.
“The usual?” Fred asks.
“Yes, sir,” they all say.
“Sorry Levi. We’re all out of milk,” Fred states.
We all laugh.
“Ha ha. I’m twenty-six! Cleo is three years younger than I am and you don’t give her milk,” Levi complains.
“But she’s ten wiser.” I smile, giving him a cheeky wink making him laugh.
“I’ll be back,” Fred ch
uckles and walks off.
“Anything I can help with? You guys seem stressed.” I noticed the tension when they sat down, even joking around I could tell it in their voices.
Andrew lets out a long breath. “Just turf shit. More annoying than anything.”
“Well, if it helps, my day sucked too,” I tell them, just then Fred returns with our drinks and my extra crispy fries.
“What happened?” Fred demanded.
“Someone bothering you?” Liam asks, his voice hard.
“We’ll fuck them up!” Owen growls.
Levi and Andrew look equally mad. These guys feel like big brothers to me at this point, always concerned for my well-being. I should be mad or annoyed. I lived on the streets for years and worked for one of the top gangs in Bulgaria. so I am more than capable of handling myself, but all I do is smile. I’ve never had this close feeling before and it’s reassuring.
“Relax guys, nothing like that.” I pause then turn to Fred. “Someone’s stealing from you,” I tell him.
“What?” He all but bellows.
“It’s someone you must’ve hired in the last two months. There’s about two hundred missing from the till. One month can be a coincidence, but two from on the same day as before is planned,” I explain to him.
“Candy?” He growls out.
“Who’s that?” Levi asks.
“My new hire. I took a chance and obviously lost.” He’s noticeably disappointed.
“Fire her and take her bracelet. It’s must be worth about four hundred,” I tell him while munching on my fries.
Owen chuckles at me. “Cutthroat.”
“No, just logical,” I say with a smile “She stole and has to give it back.”
“She’s lucky I’m finding out about this and not the boss. He has zero tolerance for betrayal.” Fred gives his head a shake.
“He’s that brutal?” I ask the table. They all just nod.
“Boss is badass, you never want to on his bad side. Ever.” Levi pipes up.
“Well, if he doesn’t tolerate betrayal, he must obviously reward loyalty. Right?” I ask them.
“Of course,” Owen agrees beside me.
“In that case, I think tonight’s drink should be on him as a thanks to me for finding a thief.” I state, holding up my old fashioned.
The rest do as well. “Thanks, boss,” Andrew chuckles.
“To the boss,” Liam says, smiling. I glare at him.
“What?” He asks.
“You should toast me.” I give a smirk, making everyone laugh.
“To Cleo!” They all yell as we clink glasses.
Fred chuckles. “All right, all right. I’ll put it on his tab.” And he leaves us.
We spend the rest of the night laughing and joking about everything and nothing. We talk guns, cars, and a little politics. Now that I think about it, we’ve spent a lot of nights like this over the last few months. These guys really feel like family, something I never thought I would have.
“Well boys, its almost two, so I’m going to call it a night.”
“What? Already?” Andrew asks.
“Da.” I tell him as I get up. “We’ve been here four hours.” I inform them after looking at my watch.
“All right, but next week we need to go back to the range. I want a rematch.” Liam glares at me. I know exactly why and can’t help but smile.
“You will never beat me, but I will give you another chance.” I wink at him. I’m a fanatic shot, none of these guys have been able to outshoot me.
“Get out of here before I drag you down there right now,” he growls at me, making me laugh.
“Night, guys.” I wave to them.
“Night, Cleo,” they reply.
I walk back to the office and say goodnight to Fred. The lounge is just closing for the night.
“See you tomorrow, Fred!” I call while I pass the office.
“Night, dear,” he hollers.
I open the back door and the smell of fresh rain meets me. Its early summer and has been a bit humid lately, so the coolness now feels amazing. I stand there for a few minutes. The weather here is not nearly as hot as back home. The rain was a rare experience there, so whenever it happens, I always take a moment to enjoy it.
I walk toward my apartment, thinking of my day tomorrow. All of a sudden I feel something hit the back of my head, hard, and fall forward, banging my temple on the stairs.
And everything goes black.
Chapter 2
Lawson
“How the fuck did this happen again?” I snap at Novak through the phone. “You basically run the whole damn state.” I’m pissed as hell at the situation. I’m leaving the warehouse we use to ship our guns and count the money for laundering. I walk to my SUV where my driver, Nick, is waiting. He’s worked for my family for many years and was my Dad’s trusted driver when he was the boss. I give him a nod and get in.
“California, but I have no control once they cross the border to Oregon. And you know Foster is a crazy fucker that refuses to play nice,” Novak reminds me.
He’s one of the biggest crime kings in the country along with myself and a few others. What can I say? I have friends in very low places, just so happens they come with wealth and the power to rule.
Foster is one of them. Oregon has always been divided by a bunch of random gangs, no real authority. Then he arrived out of nowhere, cleaned up and became the King of the whole damn state, but he refuses to form the alliance that we have. Just so happens Oregon has the fastest route from California and Nevada to get their products to me in D.C. Every time we plan a trip, Foster finds out and steals our inventory.
“How much did they get this time?” I pinch the bridge of my nose while leaning against the seat.
“My guys retreated and saved half the firearms I was sending your way,” he answers, sounding just as annoyed.
“Did you lose any men?”
“Three,” he growls.
“Shit,” I grunt out. “We need to stop trying to find different routes across the country. Somehow Foster and his men always find us anyway. We should spend more time trying to get him in our alliance, show him how much money he can make working with us rather than against,” I suggest.
“I’ll talk to Quinn, he may have some suggestions. He’s just as fed up as we are.” Our friend, Quinn, is a huge Irish fucker who controls Nevada.
“Keep me posted, and we won’t do any large shipments until we figure this out,” I tell him.
I hear Novak sigh. “This is a pain in the ass. Quinn won’t be happy.”
“We have no choice. If we can’t find something to get Foster on our side, he must have a weakness we can threaten him with,” I mutter to myself.
I hear Novak snort. “Like you? We don’t have any, Lawson.”
I must agree, I’m not sure who is more brutal between us. Novak is definitely more talkative while Quinn is a man of few words and when he does talk, it’s a curse. I’m somewhere in-between.
“As I said, keep me posted.”
“Sure thing. Later.” He hangs up. I let out a long and tired sigh.
“Tough day?” Nick asks while driving me home.
“They’re all tough,” I reply.
“You need a good woman to go home too, like your dad had. His life was much easier once he met your mother,” Nick tells me for the millionth time. He acts like I’m some old goat and will be dying alone.
I’m thirty-six, born and raised within the crime family. My Father was boss, just like his before him. He died ten years ago of a heart attack and I took over as leader. I hear about my parents’ love story all the time between my mother, Nick, and Fred. All of them seem set on annoying me to death about finding someone.
I honestly have no time for that shit. I never have. I can’t even remember the last time I’d been with a woman let alone looked at one. Probably when I was a stupid hormonal teenager. I’ve been too busy training and proving myself within the organization. Being the bos
s’s son doesn’t give you a free pass. Loyalty isn’t given its earned. And I damn well earned every bit from my men. I’ve done a lot of dark shit to get where I am because this job isn’t for the faint of heart, and I was born into it.
“The mess with Oregon and the turf war here with the Cracked Canaries have you working overtime.” I groan at Nick’s reminder.
They’re a local drug gang. I left them alone for years, since we don’t deal much with that area and they always stayed in their zones not interrupting with my business. Over the last few months though, they’ve been sabotaging our deals and trying to muscle into our turf, and to top it all off they started pushing product laced with something causing ODs all over the city. I’m done with it.
“I have too many wars to fight all at once it seems,” I mumble to myself.
My phone goes off and I to see a blocked number. “Lawson,” I snap out, not having time for anything more tonight, its already past two.
“Law,” I hear a scratchy voice I don’t recognize. “I have your woman.”
“What?” I ask, genuinely confused. “Who the fuck is this?” I demand.
I hear him laugh. He sounds deranged. “After all these mouths of screwing you over, you don’t even know who I am?” The pieces finally click into place. Speak of the devil.
“You’re the leader of the Cracked Canaries,” I state simply.
“Ding, ding, ding. Give the man a prize.” He has a singsong voice. “But wait, I have it right here.” He laughs again.