Empire

by Lili St. Germain

  Dornan regarded him gravely. ‘We gonna have trouble, brother?’

  John smiled, reaching out and slapping Dornan on the shoulder. ‘No trouble, brother. My loyalty is to the club, whether I’m president or not.’

  An awkward silence fell over the room. John let his eyes roam around once more, and then he turned and left the only friends he’d ever known.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  MARIANA

  ‘Are you okay?’ I asked Jason.

  He nodded, looking jumpy as always. His eyes travelled around the large sitting room that had been dressed up and filled with party guests. I opened my mouth to ask him why he had a black eye and a cut on his lip when I felt a cold hand on the back of my neck. I jumped, expecting to see Dornan. Instead, when I turned around Emilio stared back at me with his beady black eyes, bringing one hand to my cheek.

  ‘You look so pretty, Mariana,’ he said, using a single finger to pull my scarf down enough to expose the bruises on my throat. The sight of them made him smile, a grotesque expression that made him look like he was about to eat me.

  ‘Thank you,’ I replied, swallowing my discomfort as best I could.

  ‘It looks like my son got a little excited,’ he said, dropping his eyes to my throat again. ‘He gets that from me, you know.’

  ‘I can only imagine,’ I said.

  ‘You ever pull a stunt like that again,’ he said quietly, tucking a stray hair behind my ear, ‘and I’ll take you down to Budget Funerals and put you in the oven myself. Alive. Do you understand?’

  Budget Funerals. He’d mentioned the place by name. Had it been on the box of ashes that I’d dumped on his desk? I couldn’t remember. The hairs on the back of my neck started to prickle uncomfortably as my heart raced to a gallop.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Jason and Juliette were taking this entire conversation in, their eyes like saucers, their mouths slack with shock. I moved ever so slightly, making sure they weren’t in Emilio’s line of sight, and nodded. ‘I understand.’

  ‘Nobody is irreplaceable, darling,’ he said with a grin. He still had his hand on the side of my head, just above my ear. I wanted him to stop touching me, but what was I going to do? I was in a room full of his family and his people. He could literally have murdered me where I stood and nobody would have dared to stop him. Well, except John, but he was MIA, along with Dornan and half the Gypsy Brothers.

  ‘You might think you’ve got power now that you’re married to my son, but he’s been married before. You replaced Celia. I won’t have a problem finding somebody to replace you.’

  I nodded, trying to stay outwardly calm. I wanted to lean over and throw up all over Emilio’s expensive Italian loafers, but he’d probably make me lick them clean as punishment. Instead I stood there, frozen, until a warm hand snaked around my waist and squeezed. Jase flinched as he made eye contact with whoever it was hugging me to their side.

  I smelled John, but that couldn’t be right. I whipped my head to the left, confused. Dornan was beside me, but he was wearing John’s jacket. My heart rate rose to fever pitch as I stepped back, almost ending up in Juliette’s lap as I tried to understand what was going on.

  ‘What are you wearing?’ I asked Dornan, frowning in confusion as I re-read the patch above his heart that clearly said PRESIDENT. ‘Why are you wearing John’s jacket?’ Did you kill John? I mean, why else would he have his jacket?

  Dornan grinned. ‘We just voted. You’re looking at the new president of the Gypsy Brothers.’

  I opened my mouth to ask where John was, but then I saw him in the corner, talking to Viper but casting glances our way. He was okay. He was not the president anymore, but he was okay. Thank God.

  I looked back to Jason, and my heart broke. He’d flinched when he saw his father, I realised. He was that terrified of Dornan that he couldn’t even be near him. I heard Lindsay’s words replay in my mind. Soon. I’d get away sooner. Me and John and Juliette and Jason. I would insist, and John would do it because he loved me. Because it was the right thing to do.

  I heard the sound of cutlery clinking on glass. Emilio had disappeared, making his way to the centre of the large room.

  ‘A toast to the lovely bride and groom,’ he called out, a hush settling over the crowd as Dornan took hold of my arm and dragged me towards his father. His fingers hurt as they dug into my arm. There’d be more bruises tomorrow to add to my collection.

  ‘My dear friends and family,’ Emilio said, ‘let’s give a warm welcome to my son’s new wife, and my new daughter. I give you Mariana Ross.’

  There were claps and cheers, and hugs from Emilio. First he embraced his son, something I’d never seen him do in ten years, and then he hugged me, almost crushing me in his arms. He might’ve been old, but the man was strong. Just as I thought he was letting go, he leaned in and gave me a wet kiss, right on my mouth. I almost jerked my head back, stopping myself just in time. If I made him angry he’d kill me, and then there wouldn’t be any escaping for a new life and a chance to finally be reunited with Luis.

  ‘We’re a very affectionate family,’ Emilio whispered in my ear. ‘We share . . . everything.’

  I gritted my teeth and kept my fake smile plastered on. Beside me, Dornan was oblivious, his friends and fellow club members congratulating him in a steady procession. Me, I was just there to look good. None of them gave me so much as a sideways glance. Then again, maybe they were too scared of Dornan yanking their eyeballs out for daring to look at his property.

  As Emilio was finally disentangling himself from me, there was a scuffle and yelling from the edge of the room. A female voice. Juliette. I batted Emilio’s hands out of my path, rushing to where I’d been standing in front of Jason and Juliette only moments earlier. Jason was on the ground, curled into the foetal position, his older brothers standing around him but nobody paying him any regard. Only Juliette was helping him, on her knees beside Jason, her hands pulling his shirt up to look at the damage.

  John appeared by my right side, and Dornan soon joined him on my left. Oh, the irony of being flanked by your husband and your lover as you look at the son one of them hid away from the other.

  ‘What happened?’ I asked, acutely aware that the entire room seemed to have eyeballs on us. Juliette looked up, her eyes wet with tears, and that’s when I noticed the blood on her hands.

  I fell to my knees next to Juliette, searching for the source of the blood. Juliette lifted Jase’s shirt, and I saw a long red line across his stomach, one that was seeping blood at an alarming rate.

  ‘What happened?’ Dornan asked, his voice deathly calm.

  The boys started to fidget. I mean, they were hardly boys. All six of Dornan’s older sons were patch-wearing Gypsy Brothers, ranging in age from Chad, the oldest at twenty-four, to Ant, the youngest at seventeen. Ant was only a few months older than Jase, but the difference in the two boys was stark. Ant was already a tattooed, drinking, drug-taking little smart ass, whereas Jason – apart from the tattoos he’d been forced to have inked upon his flesh – was relatively unmarked by the life.

  Except now he had a dirty big slice in his belly, and his blood was all over the floor.

  ‘It’s just a flesh wound,’ Jase muttered, his ghostly pale face telling me otherwise.

  John yanked Juliette to her feet and tucked her under his arm, apparently not worried about the blood on her hands making a mess of his clothes. He’d likely seen a lot more blood in his time, and while it was true that Jason didn’t exactly seem to be bleeding to death before everyone’s eyes, he’d still been gouged deep enough to make him hurt.

  ‘Dornan,’ I snapped. ‘Do something.’

  He looked vaguely irritated by my directness. Well, fuck him. His son was bleeding on the floor at the hand of one of his other sons and he was standing there looking almost bored.

  ‘Which one of you shitheads did this?’ Dornan asked. There was much snickering and pushing between the brothers before Ant cleared his
throat. Little fuck. I should’ve known it would be him. He followed Juliette around like a sick puppy, even though she told him constantly that he was like a brother to her, and no she would not date him. The kid was a date rape waiting to happen.

  ‘It was an accident,’ Ant shrugged, mirroring the way his father often acted when confronted with the truth. Deny, deny, deny.

  ‘How do you accidentally stab somebody?’ I interjected. ‘No, really, I want to know.’

  Ant sneered at me. I wanted to punch his head in, but I was well aware that we had a rather large audience.

  ‘Ant, take your shirt off,’ Dornan ordered, snapping his fingers. ‘Now.’

  With seemingly great reluctance, Ant took his shirt off and slapped it into his father’s open palm. Dornan fixed him with a hard stare before turning to me. ‘Here,’ he said, handing me the shirt. ‘For the blood.’

  I took the shirt and pressed it to Jase’s wound. The blood had already slowed to a trickle, but that wasn’t the point. Who would do that? Hurt their own brother so brutally, so casually?

  Little fucking savages.

  ‘Get the fuck out of here,’ Dornan said, and his older sons dispersed like rats in torchlight. ‘You’ll toughen up soon enough,’ he said to Jason, and then he walked away. I stared at him as he left, incredulous.

  ‘Let’s get you to one of the bedrooms,’ John said to Jason, kneeling beside me. ‘Clean you up.’

  Jason nodded, and together we managed to help him into a guest room on the ground floor without making his wound bleed too much. By the time Jason was lying on the bed, Juliette sitting by his side, I was ready to find a knife of my own and slit Ant’s throat.

  John located a first aid kit and I made quick work of the long cut. It looked like Ant had simply walked past Jason and dragged the tip of a knife along his stomach until it split open. I wanted to kill that kid.

  Once Jason was bandaged, I left him to find some painkillers. I was barely two steps down the hall when an arm shot out of a doorway and yanked me inside. John. Before I could even open my mouth, he had the door locked and my hand held up to the light, examining the skull tattoo on my ring finger.

  Our eyes met and I fought back tears. ‘I didn’t know where you were,’ he breathed, dropping my hand and putting his fingers up to my mouth. He leaned in and kissed me, so softly that I could hardly believe it was the same man who’d picked me up and fucked me against a bathroom basin less than a week ago.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, swallowing the rock in my throat. ‘I didn’t want to – I had to go along with it or I don’t know what he would’ve done.’

  John shook his head. ‘Doesn’t matter. We’re getting out. We’re taking those kids with us.’

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Those kids. I nodded. ‘Yeah, we are,’ I agreed. ‘And we have to do it now. This week. The FBI thinks I’m going to testify against Dornan and Emilio in exchange for immunity.’

  ‘What?’ John said.

  I told him about how Lindsay had drugged Dornan and insisted I meet with him in Vegas. How they were planning to move on the cartel and the Gypsy Brothers very soon. John listened intently, his forehead lined deep with worry.

  ‘We need cash,’ he said.

  I nodded excitedly. My insurance policy was about to pay off. ‘I’ve got cash,’ I replied. ‘Lots and lots of cash. Think you can gather it up for us?’

  John smiled, shaking his head. ‘I knew it,’ he said. ‘I’m impressed.’

  I rested my head on his shoulder for a brief moment, terrified at the prospect of having to go back out there and interact with Dornan and Emilio.

  ‘I play the long game,’ I said quietly.

  John chuckled. ‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘Because I’ve got twenty-seven dollars to my name. Shit, I don’t even own a leather jacket anymore.’

  I looked up sharply as the puzzle pieces slammed together in my brain. ‘That’s your jacket Dornan’s wearing? In front of you? Parading around like you’re not even here?’

  John nodded, cupping my chin with his hand and pulling my face to his. ‘That would be the one,’ he murmured against my lips, kissing me again. ‘So we’ll have to go somewhere warm, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ I agreed, grabbing onto his wrists for dear life as he held my face in his palms.

  ‘Now,’ he said, grinning, ‘tell me where I need to find this money.’

  I couldn’t help but grin back. I’d always been a planner. A saver of options for rainy days and escape plans. Thank Christ. Life on the run was going to be so much easier when we were millionaires.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  MARIANA

  We rode back to LA, a motley procession of motorcycles and the occasional car. I wasn’t lucky enough to be a passenger in air-conditioned comfort, unless you counted the air blasting past my skull at a hundred miles an hour. No, I got the same four-hour ride on the back of Dornan’s motorcycle that I’d endured on the way to San Diego, my entire body numb from the waist down by the time we rattled into Santa Monica.

  Dornan deposited me at the gate to my apartment complex. ‘Pack your shit,’ he said, his sunglasses showing me my own reflection. I didn’t look good. I looked sick with stress and anxiety.

  ‘Pack my shit?’ I echoed. ‘What do you mean?’

  He looked at me like I was an idiot. ‘Pack your shit because I’m coming back tonight with my pickup and we’re taking your stuff to my house.’

  I snorted. ‘I’m not living with those fucking savages.’

  ‘Yes, you are,’ Dornan snapped. ‘They’re not savages.’

  ‘Honey,’ I said, placing my hand on Dornan’s shoulder as I spoke in the sweetest, most sickly sarcastic voice I could muster, ‘your sons told me last night that they’d like to feed you sleeping tablets and then, quote, take me “for a spin”. I don’t think they were talking about taking me for a motorcycle ride.’

  Dornan didn’t say anything.

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ I said, turning on my heel and walking towards my apartment.

  ‘We got a meeting tomorrow,’ Dornan called to me. I stopped in my tracks and turned back to face him. ‘Tomorrow? What for?’

  Dornan shrugged. ‘Something about Sunday being a holiday in Italy,’ he shrugged. ‘My father’s going away on business, so we’re meeting tomorrow.’

  Shit.

  ‘And the club’s meeting as well?’

  Dornan peered at me with what seemed like suspicion. ‘Yeah. Why?’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘So I can mentally prepare myself to see those boys of yours again. You should teach them how to treat a lady with respect.’

  Dornan revved his engine loudly. ‘If I have spare time, I’m going to use it disrespecting you in that bedroom up there, not teaching them shit.’

  What a stand-up father. I fought the urge to respond with something sharp and condescending. Instead, I stood and watched as Dornan took off down Santa Monica Boulevard, not taking my eyes off him until he’d disappeared.

  As I was turning to head upstairs to my apartment, something made me look back to the road.

  A black Escalade was parked on the corner. No big deal, right? Common car, especially in LA. Except the window was down, and the guy at the wheel was staring right at me. He was wearing dark tinted sunglasses, and had one of those earpieces attached to a cord that disappeared under his shirt collar. He was FBI, plain as day, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. They’re watching me, I realised, sickened. Lindsay’s making sure I don’t slip away. Maybe he did know me better than I thought. I turned and took the stairs two at a time, bursting into my apartment and slamming the door behind me.

  Guillermo was at the breakfast bar, shovelling Cheerios into his mouth. I ignored the drips of milk all over the counter and walked right up to him, my hand outstretched.

  ‘I need your phone,’ I said, breathless and insistent as my eyes bored into his.

  He lowered his spoon slowly, licking milk from his lips. ‘Why do you need my phon
e?’ he asked slowly, pushing the cereal bowl away as he held my gaze. I didn’t respond. I just looked at him, and sure enough, he reached into his pocket and withdrew his cellphone, placing it in the centre of my palm.

  ‘You’ve got five minutes,’ he said, his face unreadable. I watched as he walked past me to the front door, opened it, and then closed it silently behind him.

  I dialled John’s number. He answered after two rings. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘It’s Ana,’ I said. ‘There’s FBI sitting outside my apartment.’

  ‘Shit,’ John muttered. ‘Watching you?’

  ‘I don’t think they’re watching Mrs Mayflower downstairs,’ I said, referring to my geriatric neighbour who was both legally blind and almost deaf.

  ‘What’s your feeling?’ John asked.

  ‘My feeling is bad,’ I said, looking around the apartment nervously. Was this place bugged like the hotel room had been? Shit, I hadn’t even considered that possibility. ‘Wait a minute.’ I switched on the small radio that sat on my kitchen windowsill. Placebo blasted out of the tiny speakers, and I turned that fucker up as loud as it would go without drawing suspicion. Then, I stepped out onto the balcony and closed the glass door behind me. If the balcony was bugged, I was shit out of luck, but I felt like it was the safest option.

  ‘Okay,’ I continued. ‘Dornan says the Sunday meeting’s been moved to tomorrow at noon. I say we leave right after. Any longer and the FBI will make it impossible. Any sooner and they’ll notice we’re gone before we even make it through downtown LA traffic.’

  ‘Yeah. My thoughts exactly.’

  Something else occurred to me. It was useless to leave if we didn’t have a means to fund our escape.

  ‘Did you find it?’ I asked.

  He knew what I meant by it. ‘All of it,’ he said, and it sounded like he was smiling.

  ‘Good,’ I said, sagging back against the balcony wall as relief flooded my limbs. ‘That’s really good.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  LINDSAY

  ‘Morgan,’ Lindsay barked across the packed briefing room.