Complete Innocence Boxset

by Stasia Black

  “Want to get coffee first?” Anna was licking chocolate off her fingers.

  “Didn’t you just get home?” Olivia asked.

  “I went to bed right after I left the party.”

  “But did you sleep?” Olivia narrowed her eyes.

  “A little,” Anna mouth curved into a private smile.

  “Ooh, was it good? Was his dick really big?”

  “Like the Empire state building,” Anna mock whispered. “Unfortunately he has an ego to match.”

  “Wait, is this Max Mars you’re talking about?” Olivia leaned in.

  “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

  “Oh, yes, a lady does. Coffee and gossip, now.” Olivia jumped off the counter top and ran to put on her boots.

  “Let me change.” Anna finished putting the last of her concoction away and headed for the bedroom.

  “You coming?” Olivia asked Cora.

  Cora shrugged. Watching her roommates banter had given her a little burst of energy. “Might as well. I’m not tired right now.”

  Olivia frowned. “Still not sleeping?”

  “I’m going to the spa in a few hours,” Anna said as she stepped out of the bedroom, wearing a little black dress that fit her curves like a dream. “I’ll sleep there. You could come with me, if you want. Get a massage. That might relax you enough to get some shut-eye.”

  Anything sounded better than lying in bed for endless hours replaying every second of her encounter with Marcus. Cora nodded.

  At the coffee shop, Olivia pestered Anna for details of her love life while they all waited in line. Letting her friends bicker, Cora looked over the stacks of mugs and bags of coffee beans for sale, and unwittingly, her mind wandered back to last night.

  Marcus had looked so good. In their time apart, she’d tried to tell herself that she’d exaggerated his effect on her. She told herself they weren’t meant for each other. That her body didn’t light up with recognition of its perfect mate every time he was near.

  You’re a lying liar who lies.

  “Hello, Earth to Cora.” Olivia waved a hand in her face and Cora jerked her head up. It was her turn to give her order. Once she gave it, Olivia pushed her gently toward Anna.

  “Go grab the couch,” Olivia ordered. “Cora looks dead on her feet.”

  “Come on, honey.” Anna took her hand and led her to the back of the coffee shop. Every man’s head in the shop turned to watch them go.

  They all settled onto the couch and Anna looked Cora directly in the eye. “Talk to me. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

  “Insomnia, I guess.” Cora sagged back onto the couch cushions. “I don’t know, I lay awake for hours. And when I do sleep…” She trailed off, shivering at the thought of her last few nightmares—the impression of darkness and blood, always so much blood, and the horrible feeling of responsibility and guilt that lingered long after she woke up.

  “Nightmares?”

  Cora swallowed. “The worst.”

  “I’ve been having them, too.” Anna reached out and took her hand.

  Cora stared. “You have?”

  “Oh yes. The one where there’s something awful chasing you and you’re scared but can’t get away. I’ve had it a few times since AJ took me.” She leaned forward and squeezed Cora’s hand, her lovely face serious. “Because the scary thing really did happen, and my mind needs to process it. So I get the dreams.”

  “What do you do about them?”

  “Let them come. Allow yourself to feel scared and to process what happened. The dreams help us sweat it out. If that’s what my mind and body need, I’m okay with that.” She shrugged. “Anyway, the most important thing is it’s over now. He can’t get to us anymore. No one’s seen him since.”

  Cora tried not to flinch. No one had seen him because he was dead. She remembered the nightmare scene on the dark lawn of the Estate all too well. Her husband raising his arm and bashing AJ’s head in, over and over and over again.

  Her memory wasn’t a dream. That was real.

  I’m not the monster, Marcus had said.

  Your husband is a good man, Armand told her.

  “You’re going to be ok, chica.” Anna’s smile was warm.

  “One tea, one latte, and my five-shot espresso.” Olivia set the drinks down and plopped down between her two friends. “Scoot over, you guys. So, Cora how’d the rest of the party go?”

  Cora sat back and tried to smile. Her memories were her burden alone. “Fine. I mean, I got no complaints.” Cora uncovered her tea to let it cool.

  Olivia eyed her over the latte. “Did you tell that husband of yours to fuck off?”

  “Olivia!” Cora gasped.

  Anna leaned in. “Wait, Marcus was there?”

  “Armand invited him and didn’t tell Cora. Get this: Ubeli walks in all gangster and he practically threw her over his shoulder and carried her upstairs. Totally hot.”

  “Oh my gods,” Anna said.

  “It didn’t go that way,” Cora broke in.

  “You telling me after two months he didn’t get you alone and give you the business? He made his thugs wait at the bottom of the stairs and everything. And when he came back he looked smug…”

  “Olivia.” Cora had her hand over her face.

  “Looked to me like Mr. Big Mob Boss Man got some. Just sayin.’”

  “Okay, first of all,” Cora started, so loud half the café would be able to hear her. She lowered her voice. “You can’t talk about Marcus like that.”

  “What’s he going to do? Waste me?” Olivia gave a sassy little head shake. Obviously she saw the whole thing as a big joke. “If he wanted to do that, he could’ve done it the first week when he nearly gave me a heart attack standing right outside the apartment when I opened the door.”

  “What?” Cora all but shrieked. The entire coffee shop turned to look their way but Cora didn’t care. Olivia glared at them until they looked away again.

  “Yeah, bitch. Like, the second day you were there laying low.”

  “He came to the apartment?” Cora asked.

  “Yeah, he’s the one who dropped off your clothes. I told him you were out and didn’t want to see him anyway. He actually smiled and said that you were lucky to have such loyal friends. He gave me his information in case something happened and I needed to contact him.”

  Cora’s mouth hung open but she couldn’t speak. She could feel anger creeping up her neck, flushing her skin red. She’d say he couldn’t help himself but that was no excuse.

  “Why didn’t you tell her?” Anna asked for her.

  “Shit, girl, you said you needed to deal, I let you deal. You didn’t want to talk about him so I never brought it up.” Olivia shrugged and looked at Anna, who’d raised a brow. “What?”

  “Nothing. I can’t believe you kept a secret for that long, that’s all. I didn’t know that was possible for you.”

  “Just because I want to know everything doesn’t mean I can’t shut up.” Olivia went back to sipping her espresso.

  “Breathe, Cora.” Anna reached behind Olivia to touch Cora’s shoulder. “It’s going to be alright.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m going to kill him. He said he gave me space. He lied to me.”

  “About time you wanted to do something about Ubeli,” said Olivia. “Armand and I are ready to lock you in a room with him, and see who comes out alive. Or pregnant.”

  Cora smacked Olivia’s arm hard enough for her drink to slosh a bit. “That’s it, I’m not speaking to either of you anymore.”

  “Oooh, silent treatment. So mean,” Olivia said as she got up and moved to the other side of Anna, away from Cora. “That’s going to be difficult, seeing as we’re helping you move in a few days.”

  “You got the apartment?” Anna chirped, obviously trying to change the subject.

  “She did. She’s leaving us,” Olivia answered for Cora. “And her business is taking off. My little bird is leaving the nest!”

  “Oh hush, Olivia,” C
ora said.

  “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

  “I tried. I can’t be mean for long.”

  Olivia looked knowingly at Anna. “Fifty bucks says next time she and Marcus meet, she winds up pregnant.”

  Anna pursed her red lips and ignored their blunt friend. She turned to Cora. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “Me too.” Cora hugged her.

  “All right, bitches, enough of this mushy stuff or you’re gonna ruin my makeup.” Anna swiped at her eyes and smiled a dazzling smile. “Who’s ready for the spa?”

  Six

  “Come in,” Marcus barked after a knock at his office door.

  Sharo, his second in command, peeked his head in. “You called, boss?”

  “Get in here.”

  Sharo lumbered his large body through the door and shut it behind him. He stood with his arms behind his back until Marcus bit out in frustration, “For fucks sake, sit down. Don’t just stand there looming over my desk like the damned grim reaper.”

  Sharo didn’t say anything. He merely sat, one eyebrow raised the slightest bit. Marcus wasn’t in the mood for his silent judgment. Nothing was going his way lately and he was sick of it. He ran a tight ship. But there were too many elements that were out of his control and it was threatening everything he’d ever worked for.

  “We’ve got to get that shipment back. I can’t believe Zeke Sturm of all people has finally grown a set all these years. But if he thinks getting re-elected mayor suddenly means he’s above the laws of the Underworld, he’s got another thing coming.”

  “We don’t know what he’s thinking,” Sharo finally commented. “We can’t get a meeting with him.”

  Another frustrating fact. Sturm’s security kept the man all but sequestered. It had been two months but since he’d secured re-election, he’d only been to three public venues—a gala, a play, and a restaurant opening—none of which Marcus had been able to corner him at to get alone time so he could ask where the hell his shipment was.

  The police had seized the huge shipment at the docks two months ago after tailing that rat bastard AJ there, but Sturm had promised Marcus he’d return the shipment within a week. But then a week had gone by. Then two. Then three. And no word from Sturm.

  No shipment got to New Olympus that didn’t come through Philip Waters. He owned the seas. At first Waters had been understanding and hadn’t demanded payment for the lost shipment, once it became apparent it was going to stay in police custody. Things like this happened and the Ubeli’s have been long and loyal customers.

  But then suddenly Waters had pulled a one-eighty and said he wouldn’t sell any more product to Marcus until he paid for the first shipment after all.

  Marcus didn’t know why suddenly everybody thought they could fuck him up the ass, but it was high time he reminded them exactly why people used to be afraid to even say his name out loud.

  “It’s time to put the fear of the gods into Sturm and anybody else who thinks they can take advantage of me,” Marcus growled through clenched teeth. “I run this city. No one else.”

  Sharo didn’t say anything for a long moment. And when he did, Marcus wished he hadn’t, because it only made him want to deck his longtime friend: “Did you talk to her?”

  Marcus glowered at him. It would have silenced any lesser man. But Sharo only sat forward.

  “Did you apologize? I know it’s not in your nature but women like to hear the words—”

  “Of course I apologized,” Marcus cut him off irritably. “She’s not ready to hear it. But she will be. I’ll make sure of it. Anyway, I’m not having this conversation with you.”

  Sharo frowned. “You can’t go in and start ordering her around. You have to be delicate—”

  “I’m not taking dating advice from a man who only sleeps with prostitutes.”

  Sharo stood up, turned his back and headed for the door. Shit.

  “Wait,” Marcus called. Sharo paused, hand on the doorknob. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

  Sharo inclined his head once but didn’t turn to look back at Marcus. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Marcus all but shouted. And then, because Sharo was the one person Marcus could genuinely call a friend and so he deserved it, Marcus gave him more, in a quiet, tempered tone. “I’m doing everything I can to get her back. Everything and anything. None of it means anything without her.”

  Sharo gave another simple nod and then exited through the door. It closed softly behind him.

  Marcus looked at his laptop but soon pushed back from his desk in frustration. He wasn’t going to get any more work done tonight.

  He paused for a moment, though, looking towards the door, remembering the first time he’d seen Cora up close. She’d pushed through that very door frantically and shut it again, wet and disheveled, on the run and thinking she’d found a safe place in his office.

  Even then he’d been enchanted by her beauty and sweetness. She’d fallen asleep in that chair right there, across the desk from him. He’d lingered longer than he should have, watching her. His beautiful enemy. And then, instead of destroying her like he’d meant to, he’d gone and fallen in love with her. And she’d changed everything.

  Life without her was unfeasible. Untenable. He wouldn’t go back. He was only getting through each day on the promise to himself that she’d soon be back in his arms. In his bed. Forever.

  But standing here mooning like a lovesick teenager was beneath him. So he grabbed his jacket and called his driver to bring the car around front.

  He busied himself with emails and phone calls on his way home. It wasn’t his normal way, but now riding in cars listening to music only reminded him of when he’d done so with her beside him. So he filled the void with distraction.

  At least until he opened the door to his silent penthouse. A place had never felt more empty. He took several echoing steps inside the marble foyer, letting the door shut behind him.

  Everywhere he looked, he saw her ghost. In the kitchen cutting vegetables for the salads she was always trying to get him to eat. Lounging in the sunken living area, curled up like a cat on the plush sofa while she read a book.

  She’d get so lost in what she was reading, she wouldn’t never noticed him at the edge of the room so he could drink in his fill of her. The delicate curve of her neck. Her plump, pillowy lips and the way the top one was ever so slightly fuller than the bottom. That lip of hers drove him mad, the way she’d bite and worry at it when she was thinking about something. He grew stiff just remembering it.

  He frowned and dropped his suitcase by the door. He needed a fucking drink.

  But instead of going to the bar at the far end of the room, he found his feet heading towards his bedroom. Because no matter how he tried, he couldn’t rid himself of thoughts of her. And she’d never been more present than when she’d given herself to him completely in his bedroom.

  He pushed open the door slowly intending to linger in the memories.

  But then he threw it open with a bang. “What the fuck?”

  He pulled out his gun from the holster beneath his jacket and swung around, looking for intruders. After confirming the bedroom and ensuite were clear, he closed the door and called Sharo.

  “Yes, boss?”

  “Security team to the penthouse. Now.”

  “Sending them.” Sharo was immediately at attention. “What’s happening?”

  “Intruders. They or may not be still on premises,” Marcus said, keeping his voice low.

  “Team is on their way. What tipped you off? Did they ransack the place?”

  Marcus looked at his bed again and the gruesome tableau that had been laid out there. Three bloody, severed dog heads were arranged as if all belonging to a three-headed dog, a likely reference to Cerberus, guard-dog to the Underworld.

  “Looks like the Titans have finally decided to respond to our message from a couple months ago. Either t
hat or Waters has decided to up the stakes.”

  Seven

  Cora sat on the balcony seats while The Orphan’s voice rang out in the hall. It was beautiful. Pure. Perfect. At the same time, everything was wrong. So wrong.

  She clutched the railing, shaking her head. No, she had to stop it. She looked around frantically for someone to help but there was no one.

  “If you die before I wake,” Chris sang, “I’ll give my soul; it’s theirs to take—”

  “No!” Cora screamed but her voice made no sound even as a monstrous darkness rose behind Chris. “Run!”

  Iris stumbled out from the other side of the stage, looking dazed and confused. She was clutching her stomach and when she brought her hands away, they were covered in blood.

  “Iris,” Chris shouted, throwing his guitar to the ground and sprinting towards her.

  But the darkness, the monster behind him, it was faster. Cora screamed as it swallowed him up, a title wave of blood drenching Iris as she fell to her knees and—

  Cora sat up in bed, hand flying to her mouth to stifle her scream as sweat poured down her temples and her heart raced.

  On the side table, her phone was buzzing insistently. It must have woken her. Thank the Fates. Sometimes she was stuck in the nightmare world for what felt like an eternity.

  Cora wiped her forehead with her forearm and reached for the phone, fumbling for the angry little device.

  Missed call…four thirty-two pm. She groaned. She’d gotten only an hour of sleep after getting back from the spa.

  Her fingers hit the button to listen to the voicemail.

  “Mrs. Ubeli,” said a familiar voice, and she started at hearing her married name. “This is Philip Waters; Mr. Merche gave me your number. Please call me when you get a chance.” He gave his number.