“Silver’s dead,” Teo announced, glancing over at Kiri’s gasp. “She was lying in the street, bullet in her chest. Yash saw the white van, he ran back and hopped in the car to run after it, but I think he’s long gone.”
Face white as a sheet, Kiri whispered, “Dead? She’s dead?” Tipping her head up to Naithon, her face wreathed with compassion, she said, “Your girlfriend was murdered, Naithon, I’m so sorry.”
Brows knit in vexation, Naithon grumbled crossly, “Kiri, she was not my girlfriend.”
“But she said you’re in love and have been together for a long time, and that you’ve been sleeping in her bed.”
The only good thing to Naithon, was the wounded sound in Kiri’s voice. She was jealous, he hoped. But, she should be fucking trusting him, believing his word by now.
“Baby, I fu- uh, slept with her a couple of times to relieve stress and she was handy, this was long before I brought you to my home. She meant less than zero to me, and I told her that. The second I put my plan to take you into fruition, I told her directly that I would not be doing anything with her or any of the other bitches at the house. That you were it for me. Nonetheless, she still hit on me and I blew her off. Everything she said is a lie.”
He twined his fingers around her arms, bent so their faces were close. “Baby, when are you going to get it through that gorgeous little head of yours that I have no interest in any other bitc- ah, woman, but you.”
“But when you tire-”
“Oh, fuck, stop, Kiri,” exasperation in his voice, his forehead bunched in pique, he squeezed her arms. “I don’t steal women every day and force them to stay with me. I will never, never tire of you. You’re the one I worry about not letting me get close to you.”
“I think that worry is history, bro,” Janero quipped, the men chuckled.
“Ja,” Naithon smiled down at Kiri, “it’s a work in progress. All right,” he kissed her, then said to Janero, “take us to Ignacio.”
Everyone trooped to the main salon and up the stairs and down the corridor to Ignacio’s room. Inside the huge, masculine chamber, Ignacio was in the big four-poster bed sitting up against several pillows. A nurse sat in a chair by his bed with needlepoint on her lap.
To the side of the bed were four broad windows covered by gold brocade drapes. A brown and gold loveseat and two large, matching cushioned chairs hunkered in front of the windows, the door to the attached bathroom was open. A bit of white and gold marbling was visible.
“Pa.” Janero went in first. “Kiri’s here to see you.”
“Huh?” Ignacio’s face held disbelief when he saw his daughter come into the room. He crowed with delight, “The gypsy bastard finally grew tired of you and kicked you out? Jan, call Rueford-”
“The gypsy bastard is with her, old man, and he hasn’t and won’t ever tire of her,” Naithon growled entering the room. He held Kiri’s hand, she tugged it loose and trod gingerly to her father’s side. Naithon stayed right behind her like a shadow.
Ignacio’s brown eyes flit from Kiri to Naithon. “Tell me what the hell is going on, why are you here in my home?” He ignored his other daughter hovering in the doorway, and the men, his and Naithon’s that materialized into the large room.
Naithon moved closer to the bed. He explained, “The day you were poisoned and in the hospital, Kiri had me bring her to see you. We were conned by a male nurse into letting Kiri go with him to ICU to see you. It was a ploy to snatch her. I thought it was you at first, or one of your men.” Lids levered low over dark, dangerous eyes aimed at Ignacio. “But, knowing I would skin you and toss you alive on the barbeque grill if you tried that shit, I assumed it wasn’t you.”
Ignacio studied Naithon for a long moment. Then he asked, “Why would someone grab my daughter? Rueford wouldn’t have the balls, so who?”
Naithon’s eyes darkened. “That red-headed fuck would have the balls, old man.” He shook his head. “But I don’t think it was that asshole, he wouldn’t have acted alone, he’s too big a coward. Same solo guy came after her tonight.
“The guy paid off one of the whores at my compound to lure Kiri here with the bogus claim you were dying. Knowing Kiri would be in danger, both from the guy that’s after her, and,” he set his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, “my wrath for leaving my house, yet, Kiri still took the chance to come and see you before you croaked.”
Ignacio’s gaze bumped back to Kiri with surprise. “Really? After how I’ve treated you?”
Kiri leaned over and kissed her father on his forehead. “Yes. You aren’t a nice guy, but you are my father, and I love you.”
Ignacio blinked in amazement at her. “Wow.” Grey bushy brows lowered over brown eyes not as sharp as usual without his glasses on. His voice heartened, he said hopefully, “So, you’re ready now to marry Rueford? I put the wedding plans on hold, we can call the planner and she can-”
Naithon moved in front of Kiri, face like thunder. “She isn’t marrying any fucker but me. I don’t want to hear that red-haired bastard’s name mentioned in conjunction with Kiri’s again. You don’t knock off the crap, you won’t be invited to our wedding.”
Stubby grey lashes flew up, Ignacio turned wide eyes to Kiri, then they narrowed in disbelief. “You’re gonna marry this scumbag gypsy thug?” He said furiously to Naithon, “You took her as collateral that there would be no more killings. They didn’t stop, so you lied to and cheated us, Adranokov. You get the hell out of here, she stays. She will marry Rue-”
“I’ll be your bridesmaid!” Melonie chirped from the doorway. “Rueford’s wanted you since you were practically a toddler, he’ll be so thrilled!”
In a beat, Naithon had Ignacio’s pajama collar wrapped in his fist and he was lifting him up off the bed. “You listen to me you old motherfucker, she goes where I go. You give me any trouble and I’ll-”
“Naithon, please.” Kiri grabbed his arm to pull him back. “He’s ill, please don’t hurt him.”
Ignacio’s men, and Janero made moves to go after Naithon, but Mazonn and Teo planted their boots akimbo, hands on the weapons at their hips. “Uh huh,” Mazonn shook his head at the men.
Naithon let Ignacio drop back on the bed gasping for air. Kiri tugged at his arm. “Naithon, we should go, please.”
Chest heaving with rage, Naithon glared furiously at Ignacio, clearly he wanted to pound the older man into the ground.
Ignacio tried for bravado, but his voice shook, “Kiri, girl, tell me you aren’t gonna marry that bottom feeding, gypsy slug.” Clutching the sheet to his chin, he pleaded with his daughter to deny it.
Aware Naithon was still glowering at her father, but was listening for her response, Kiri said, “Right now, Dad, I just want to be home.” She felt Naithon stiffen beside her.
Ignacio brightened. “That’s it then, you’re staying here with your family, what’s left of it,” he ended glumly. “But you and Rueford will soon cough out the babies and build us back up again!”
Feeling Naithon’s fingers wrap around her arm, Kiri clarified, “No, home with Naithon,” and she heard his exhale, the tenseness in his fingers eased a bit.
“Kiri,” Ignacio’s tone carried a small whine.
Shaking her head, Kiri said firmly, “No, I’m leaving with Naithon. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
“By phone,” Naithon put in.
Kiri looked up at him, her eyes rolling, they stopped moving at his smirk of promised punishment. “Maybe I should stay after all…” she murmured. Naithon leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Not on your life, pigeon, I go, you go. On your own two feet or over my shoulder, however you want it, you go with me,” and laughed at her affronted grunt.
Everyone except Ignacio and the nurse traipsed down the hall. When they reached the staircase, Kiri kept going down the hall when the others started down the stairs.
“Baby,” Naithon called after her. He looked to Janero who shrugged, he didn’t know what she was doing. Then Janero said, “Duce’s and
Piero’s rooms are down that wing.”
Naithon paused, Janero said, “Let her have her moment, Adranokov. There are no exit stairs down there, all the rooms in that wing are empty, she’ll be safe.” His mouth curled up in a persuasive grin, he said, “We’ve got some fantastic rum down in the den. I’d like some time to get to know my future brother-in-law.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Teo offered.
Naithon hated to leave her, but Janero was right. He didn’t want to intrude on her grief. “Ja, okay.” He kissed her on the top of her head. Lowering his head so their eyes connected, he said quietly, “Just a few minutes. Stay away from the windows.” Ignoring the annoyed look she shot him, he joined the others as they tromped down the stairs and to the den. Janero handed everyone a glass and filled them with rum.
Upstairs, Kiri went first into Piero’s suite. It hadn’t changed since he was a teen. Except the bed was made. Because they have servants. Posters of rap artists were taped crookedly on the walls, among them pictures of naked women, some appeared young enough for it to be child porn.
Then she realized the pictures of the very young girls were actual photographs blown up. They were bent over, tied up, gags over their mouths, tears in their eyes, and whips flying at their backs. Apparently oldest brother Duce wasn’t the only perv creep in the family. Kiri cringed at the sights. Over Piero’s bed hung flyers extolling the use of drugs. She said a silent prayer for her sick brother’s soul, then left his room and went on to Duce’s.
Like Piero’s, it hadn’t changed. His suite was as large as Piero’s, huge bed, over-large furniture, there was nothing on his walls. A door led to a hall and a separate sitting room, a second door opened to the large en suite bathroom even bigger than the walk-in closet that was so big an entire football team could fit inside. On his dresser there were pictures of Duce and his friends playing football, accepting trophies.
A small smile wavered with her grief. Disregarding the one of Duce at a strip club, a woman on his lap, his hands clutching her bare breasts, lewd grin as big as life, Kiri picked up one of the other pictures and smoothed a fingertip over the photo.
It was of Duce, Piero and Janero together. There was vast blue water behind them, probably at the beach. They were grinning, raising beers to the camera.
Her attention was drawn to their rings. All three wore the rings with their family’s crest on the top, initials on the side. Kiri and Melonie both had asked for rings like them, but as usual, they were told it was only a male thing.
Staring at Duce’s ring, her stomach fell; it reminded her of the photos her father had shown her of the scene where Duce had died. Blood on the wood chipper, his belt buckle and ring had been recovered and identified. Chewed up but still recognizable.
Setting the picture down, she said a quiet prayer and left the room. She jumped when Teo pushed off from the wall.
“Sorry,” he apologized coolly, “I was guarding, I didn’t mean to startle you. I figured you’d know Nait would never leave you unprotected.”
She smiled at him. “I’m getting that idea pretty good by now, Teo. Thanks though, for being unobtrusive.”
They went downstairs together.
In the den, Melonie was trying to talk to, and touch Naithon. Following him like dirty footprints, “Mr. Adranokov,” she cooed, chasing after him, ignoring Maz’s snickers and Naithon avoiding her. “Babycakes, you know, you’ve never seen my bedroom.” One of her pudgy shoulders pushed up coyly she invited, “I’d love to give you a tour, perhaps now?”
Hell, Naithon grit his teeth, wasn’t she listening when he told her old man he was gonna marry Kiri? Her fucking sister for fuck’s sake? What a sleaze. Like he had thought before, she was as bad as his own brother Misolav. Horndogs, liars and cheats, greedily, shamelessly poaching other people’s property.
When Melonie started rubbing against him like a she-cat in heat, he shifted away, turning his back to her. Any other whore and he would have dealt harshly with her, but she was Kiri’s sister and he wasn’t about to do anything that would upset Kiri and have her hating on him again.
Then again, he would hope that Kiri would not appreciate her sister’s clear invitation to fuck, or have her hands and body all over him. Ja, he would hope.
The menace vanished and his face lit up when Kiri entered the den. He went right to her, slung his arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. Melonie’s face twisted in loathing; with an obnoxious snort she went to refill her cocktail glass.
Everyone hung for a bit, had a couple of drinks with Janero. They discussed as usual who could be responsible for the vendetta against their families. Who could gain from pitting them against each other? Soon, Naithon set his glass down. His arm around Kiri, he said, “Call it a night, boys. I won’t relax until I get her home.” He hugged her to him.
A sound of jealous disgust erupted from Melonie. No one paid her any attention. They were used to her foul mouth and behavior. Some men could look beyond plain and plump, but they wouldn’t appreciate such vulgar conduct.
In the SUV, Kiri was asleep in minutes, her head on Naithon’s shoulder. When they reached the compound, Naithon carried her inside as he has before and laid her on their bed. He thought of it as their bed now, not his.
He removed her shoes, tugged her jeans off her, left her in her shirt and underwear. He didn’t want to stir her anger up thinking he stripped her while she was unaware. The puppy yawned with a tiny yip from his bed on the floor. Looking over at the dog, Naithon sighed with relief, “Ja, little fellow, we have her back home safe and sound.”
Standing beside the bed and looking down, Naithon didn’t blink as he watched Kiri sleep. This hell had to stop, end. He couldn’t take it if he lost her again. He would burn the fucking town down if he could to bring an end to her stalker, and the assassinations that plagued both her and his families.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Naithon decided to stay by Kiri’s side the next day, cancelling all his meetings for the week. He was scared to take his eyes off her. If the kidnapper had gotten his hands on her, he would surely kill her, after doing Dio knows what to her first. Everyone was dismayed at Silver’s deceit, what she had done, and shocked at her murder.
He kicked the women out that had been complicit with her. They had been threatened and coerced into helping her, but they should have come to him. They should have known he would protect them, but they believed Silver’s lies that Naithon was in love with her and would never toss her out on her betraying huge ass.
The women also had to find new employment, they wouldn’t be dancing in any of his clubs. The soldiers that had been duped and drugged were rotated to different sites. He didn’t want unwary men guarding his house. He didn’t fire them, or do worse as he normally would, because they were unwilling participants in Silver’s scheme.
The fool Simon who had allowed Silver to take Kiri’s food from him and deliver it herself so he could go bang one of the girls was recuperating down in the basement.
Naithon had his own soldiers, and detectives hunting everywhere to find out who had paid Silver to trick Kiri into going to him. One of the dancers told him Silver thought she had sanded both sides of the double–edged sword. She’d make money by delivering Kiri to the man, and she would also get the girl out of Naithon’s life, believing he would turn back to Silver once Kiri was disposed of.
What she hadn’t figured on was what Naithon would have done to her, if she’d survived, when he learned of her heinous scheme, delivering Kiri to her death, and that when the man who hired the disposable Silver, when she had completed her mission, he would assassinate her as well. Stupid, stupid whore.
After lunch, Naithon brought Kiri to her studio. He carried Kako and sat in a big recliner he’d had brought in. Kicking his feet up, the pup tucked at his side, he powered up his laptop and toiled with his own business while she worked on an order from a new restaurant that was having a grand opening in a month. The order was for her to create and
design food off their menu with mouth-watering, tempting scenes, and photograph them for their ads.
The restaurant was Indian-Chilean fusion. Occasionally Naithon peered over to see her progress, and thought what odd shit the fusion thing was. Kiri had pinned up on a corkboard various photos of India, Chile, and their native dress and foods, and dishware, serving platters etc. She had found pictures of both countries of their people in their native dress.
Chile was bright, bold colors, food like humitas, dough wrapped in green corn husks, sopaipillas, a kind of quick bread, and pastel de choclo, corn cake with beef, black olives, hard boiled eggs.
India was colorful too but more spicy warm. Kiri had made giant pink lotus flowers to set the plates of food on, she had other ideas for scenery.
They both worked for hours, then she stood back and regarded her work with a frown. She complained to Naithon, “It’s hard to make rice and lentils captivating.” That brought a chuckle from him. She turned to where he was sitting. “That is so nice, Naithon.”
He mumbled, “Hmm?” without looking up.
“Every time I’d ever seen you over the years, and when you brought me here, I would have sworn your lips couldn’t curve up, and that you weren’t born with a laugh button.”
“Ha!” he barked out a humorous laugh to prove her wrong. “You are silly, my little pigeon, it is wholly you that has put the happy in me, the smile on my face.” He grinned when she tried to scowl a reprimand at him for calling her pigeon. Then she smiled and sighed, some things will change with him with her influence, and some won’t.
“Sure,” she said with a pretend scold, “you can punish me for calling you Mr. Adranokov but I have no recourse when you call me those silly, sexist pet names.”
“Ja, well, that’s what happens when I am the boss and you are not.”
When she opened her mouth to retort, Naithon set the computer aside then put the pup on the floor, and Kako bounced right over to Kiri, tail wagging a mile a minute.
Distilled Duplicity Page 23