by SR Jones
“And Markos mostly does the casinos, right?” I ask.
“Yes, he runs the casinos now. His work is almost entirely legitimate. But you know, the dividing line between legal and illegal, moral and immoral isn’t as clear cut as you like to think.”
“I’m genuinely sorry I said those things. It just seems to me that there are a lot of hardened men here in this house, this compound, and then a lot of young and possibly vulnerable women.”
“If I had my choice, would Maya be with Damen? Yes, every time. He’d protect her with his life.”
“But don’t you see?” I argue. “If you didn’t live in this world, she wouldn’t need protecting.”
“But I do live in this world, and there’s plenty of people out there in the so-called normal world who face danger too. If you don’t think the Alanis family have paid protection, then you’re mistaken. It’s not unique to what I do; it’s related to having wealth and power. Movie stars have huge bodyguards, and they have to protect themselves to a high level, as do politicians and billionaires. You reach a certain level of wealth and power, and you become a target whether what you do is legit or not.”
“I need to go home,” I blurt out. “I must look a total fright.”
“Yeah, about that.” Stamatis tips my chin up, and his face is serious as hell. “I think you and Gus might need to move in here.”
“What?” I squeak.
“Not the house, but the compound.”
How ironic, I leave one compound for another. “No,” I say. “We’re okay where we are.”
“You’re not.” He rubs two long fingers over his short beard. “You’re not safe at all. Firstly, because you’ve been seen with me by Jonathon Alanis, so it’s going to be all over this damn city. I can’t be sure to what level of crazy my wife will respond to having her face rubbed in it publicly…and there’s some shit going down business wise.”
“What sort of shit?”
“We’re going to fill you ladies in over dinner.”
He brushes a kiss over my mouth, soft and so sweet. I close my eyes and for a moment simply let myself feel the happy hormones his touch releases in me.
“Get yourself cleaned up. This is the guest bedroom, and this house being Maya’s now, as much as it is Damen’s, the bathroom has a department store’s worth of beauty products in the bathroom for guests to use.”
“Okay. I’m not moving in here, though.” I try to be stern.
“Rhea, you are.” He kisses me again. “This is not up for debate. It only has to be temporary, and there’s a small apartment free above one of the garages. Cole was meant to be living in it, but he’s not going to be now. Change of plans there too.”
“We’ll talk after dinner,” I say with a smile.
He laughs. “Okay, Rhea. Now go clean up. I’ll see you downstairs in ten minutes.”
I turn to head toward the bathroom, and he stops me with a hand on my arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes,” I say with a small smile. “I’m recovered from my moment of hysteria.”
“It wasn’t hysterical to have a moment of overwhelming panic and emotion, just human.”
Then he’s gone, and I walk into the bathroom. One look at the wreckage that is my blotchy red face and I despair at letting Stamatis see me this way.
The room is opulent and bigger than the whole living area of my apartment. On the marble ledge above the sink and underneath the mirror are four large baskets. In the first are what look like men’s toiletries. In the second, bath things. In the third, dainty little mini wrapped toothbrushes, small tubes of toothpastes, miniature mouthwashes, and toothpicks, and in the fourth, make-up and four mini perfume bottles.
The make-up is all pristine and hasn’t been used. Does Maya replace this stuff every time she’s had a guest? I bet she does. The expense must be mind-boggling. I rummage through it and find a foundation that will suit my skin tone. I apply it to try to cover the red blotches.
Then I redo my mascara and put the tube in my bag, noting to myself to tell Maya I used it and will replace it. Finally, I grab a lip balm with some color and put that on. I look human, but still terrible. My eyes are swollen and red, and that’s not going away anytime soon.
Once I’ve cleaned up, I head downstairs in time to see everyone gathering in the dining room. There’s one almighty mezze laid out on the table, which I’m surprised isn’t groaning under the weight of things.
“So we’ve got a few issues,” Alesso is saying to Cole. “And you leaving now isn’t ideal.”
“Dude,” Cole snaps. “I get it, and under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t, but this is Pamela.”
Pamela?
“What’s going on with Pamela? Is she okay?”
Cole turns to me, and I’m shocked to see how weary he appears. I like him and Pamela; they did a lot to help Star and myself after the compound was raided.
“Hey there, Rhea. No, she’s not. She’s missing. She went to South America to try to help find a handful of American teenagers who’d allegedly joined some cult down there, and she’s not been heard from for over four days now.”
“Oh my God. That’s awful.”
“So you’re going to ride down there and rescue her all alone?” Alesso says.
“No, of course not. I’ve got two friends coming with me. Priest and Alec.”
“Priest? Is he an actual Priest?” Maya asks as she sips at a glass of white wine.
“Nah, he’s called that because you tell him anything in confidence and he’ll take it to the grave, like in confession.”
“Oh,” she says. “So is he like Damen and Alesso? Badass?”
Cole grins at her. “He’s not like Damen and Alesso, as in he’s not involved in our world, but he is badass. He’s a mercenary. Been working in Iraq, and luckily for me he’s back home for a month. Alec is ex-special forces, like myself and Priest, only he’s like Andrius; only governments hire him.”
“A hitman for governments,” Maya breathes, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know such a thing existed.”
“Babe,” Damen says. “Governments are probably the biggest killers of all.”
I think back to the recent conversation with Stamatis and how upset he was with me assuming he and his men were the lowest of the low. Oddly enough, it seems some of what I’m learning about the modern world isn’t a million miles away from what Leader Zeus told us. That governments were corrupt, the state wasn’t to be trusted, and modern society was riddled with sin. He wasn’t wrong in many ways. Where Zeus was wrong was in pretending his way of life was any better, when it was a damn sight worse.
“Sit, sit.” Maya flaps her hands, getting us all to take our seats. I find myself next to Stella on one side and Andrius on the other. Crap. I wanted to be next to Star or Stamatis. I don’t do small talk with people I don’t know very well, and something tells me Andrius will hardly be a chatty kind of a guy. Stella is fairly quiet too.
“So, Rhea. What are you liking most about the outside world, and what do you like the least?” Andrius drops his huge frame into the chair next to mine and asks the question loud enough for everyone else to hear.
For a moment, I’m horrified. Way to go highlighting the weird cult member in the room, but then Star says, “Best things are definitely the coffees and the wine.” She giggles. “After you, Markos, of course.”
I think about it and smile. “I think the best thing is being able to see the ocean whenever I want. I love it.”
“Oh, yes,” Star says, all breathy and awed. “That too, definitely. I never get bored of it.”
“The worst is getting used to it. Feeling different and weird. I don’t know how to be normal, how to talk to people on their level most of the time. I feel as if I must stick out like a sore thumb.”
“It will pass,” Andrius says. “I felt that way when I came out of the service. You’re totally disoriented in the normal world.”
I want to hug him. Instead of singling me out and making
me feel weird, Andrius has addressed the huge elephant in the room and normalized it. I’m starting to think the man has depths his cold, indifferent surface hides well.
“Of course, what is normal? Eh?” he asks with one eyebrow raised. “Most people are crazy, if you ask me. In fact, if you ask me, us … this motley crew in here are probably more normal than most of the folks out there.”
“I doubt that,” I say. “I mean, in my case, not the rest of you. And, by the way, that’s the exact sort of thing I mean. I always say things the wrong way, and then they sound rude or weird. I think I freak people out when I open my mouth.”
“Ah, you’re at beginners’ level, baby,” Andrius says. “I freak people out with a glance in their direction.”
The room erupts into laughs, and an argument breaks out between Damen and Andrius about who is the most intimidating out of the two of them. It’s not even close.
Andrius every time. Not because Damen isn’t scary. He is. The man is huge, but there’s a warmth to him that Andrius simply doesn’t have … or at least, doesn’t show. He’s let me see a glimpse of it this evening, and for the first time, I can imagine a little of what Violet sees in him.
“I think I’d miss perfume the most if I had to go into an old-times cult.” Maya chews a green bean as she contemplates this.
“Erm, we weren’t in an old-times cult,” Star says. “Not really.”
“Babe, you didn’t have a clue about most things so, yeah, you were. I’d simply not want to live without my Chanel.”
“Then you’ve got a very low threshold for staying alive,” Andrius says with a shake of his head. “I lived in a trench for days, with a friend, Konstantin, stinking one another’s piss and shit. Then we were shot at as we escaped and only had a few days at home before we were sent back into the war zone.”
“Well, thank you for that, Andrius,” Maya snaps. “That’s lovely dinner party conversation.”
“Speaking of Konstantin.” Stamatis smoothly takes over the conversation. “We need to discuss this with all of us here. Close the doors, Markos, will you?”
Markos heads to the doors open to the outside and closes them, and then he also shuts the door leading out to the rest of the house.
“We have an issue,” Stamatis says, “and we all need to be aware of it because we might have to increase security if things kick off.”
“I only found this information out recently, and I’ve come to you all first,” Andrius says. “I’m talking to you before I talk to Allyov. That’s my second port of call. It seems the wars of the past with the Bratva, wars I thought were behind us, might be about to resurface.”
“Why?” Maya asks, her tone frightened.
“Because a good friend of mine, Konstantin, the man from the trench.” Andrius gives a tight smile. “My friend has discovered that Popov, the man who took over from Voloshin and the motherfucker who tried to kneecap me, killed my friend’s wife. Or, rather, I should say he was involved in it.”
“Shit,” Stella says, and it’s unusual to hear her swear.
“Yeah, shit,” Alesso confirms.
“Possibly double shit,” Damen says to a few low chuckles.
“The situation now is that Konstantin wants to take Popov out. Konstantin is big. He’s Allyov, if not bigger, levels of big, but he’s always been a legit player in London. He liked it that way. He has underbosses running his Moscow territory for him, men he trusts, and the same with the arms deals he makes in South America and on the West Coast. London is where he lives, and where he runs his business.”
“To put things into perspective, from what I’ve read about his wealth, Konstantin could buy every single business of Allyov’s businesses up and still have change.” Stamatis sips at his red wine after he speaks, and I watch as he swallows, loving the way his throat works.
“This is true,” Andrius says. “But he doesn’t have the infrastructure, not in London. He’s got money, prestige, power, all of those things, but he doesn’t have men, nor the contacts he needs to be sure he can kill Popov and not be taken out himself.”
“Why doesn’t he just not kill him?” Star asks.
“Because Popov was involved in killing his wife. Honor demands Konstantin take him out. Even if K didn’t want retribution on Popov, and he does, our code demands he must, or else he risks looking weak. Looking weak can get you killed. So, you see, Star, my friend is fucked if he does, and fucked if he doesn’t. The only way forward for him now is to act and to fight. Then he has a chance of winning.”
“The big wild card in this is Allyov,” Stamatis adds.
“Yes, indeed.” Andrius pauses to butter some bread, bite, chew and swallow. “Allyov might decide he wants to take over Popov’s territory himself, which I think Konstantin would be okay with, but that would stretch Allyov’s resources too much and leave him vulnerable in the North where he’s well established. Will Allyov take umbrage to Konstantin killing the man he has a great trade going with? I doubt it so long as Konstantin takes over Popov’s role, but he’s not sure he wants to. I’m not sure he has the men in place to. Allyov might want me back in play when this shit goes down. It will make him twitchy, paranoid. Popov is a Pakhan now. Other Pakhans don’t like it when one of their own gets taken out, even if they hate the fucker in question. There’s no way I’m going to go up against Konstantin. He’s like a brother to me, one I barely see, but a brother no less. This means I may find myself going against my own boss. Against Allyov.”
“It’s all very complex,” I say without thinking.
“Indeed, Rhea, it is,” Andrius says with a sigh. “Like a spiderweb of interconnected fuckery. A web full of venomous, untrustworthy spiders. The only people I truly trust, other than Violet and Justina, are in this room. I love Konstantin, and I owe him my life, but do I trust him? I don’t know; it’s been a long time since I’ve dealt with him. So here we are. A big change is about to go down in our world. It will leave a hole at the top of a very big tree, and as I said to Konstantin, nature abhors a vacuum. There will be a rush to fill this hole, and that rush might drag us all in. Unforeseen consequences and all that.”
“Which brings us to the discussion here, tonight,” Stamatis says. “I need us to increase security, but we only have so many men I’d trust with the lives of those I love. That means no more spreading security thinly. You want to shop, Maya? And you want to go to the beach, Star, but Stella wants to go to her animal shelter; you better find a way to combine some of those things.”
“Simple,” Maya says with a smile. “Me and Star hit the beach and then the Glyfada shops afterward together. Two plans, only one lot of security needed.”
I would have taken her answer as stupid and glib previously, but now I am beginning to understand that Maya uses her lightness of character and jokes to ease tensions in the group, and she does it well.
“Sounds good,” Stamatis says sarcastically but with a smile for his daughter. “Oh, and one other thing. Damen and I have talked, and Rhea will be moving into an apartment here.”
With that bombshell, he changes the subject and I try to avoid looking around me at all the faces now turned my way.
Life is about to change.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Stamatis
Harem? Gangsters? Very, very bad people. Despite us having talked it out, Rhea’s words are still ricocheting around my brain, taunting me.
Is this what she’s thought of me all along? I shouldn’t care. I’d told myself before tonight that I’d be done with her, but then I saw her walk past the study in that elegant way of hers, and I was second guessing myself.
The moment I saw her shaking and crying in Andrius’ arms, I knew I couldn’t let her go. Not yet.
Now, I’m moving her in with my daughter, to her own space, but still on their land, and it seems right somehow. I’m still fucking livid with her, though. I want her, but right now, I don’t like her.
Luckily for Rhea, I have a lot of business to discuss tonight,
so she’s on her way back to her apartment, with an armed guard who will stay with her while she packs her and Gus’ things. My man will stay overnight, sleeping on the sofa, and in the morning, when her son comes home from his sleepover, Rhea and Gus will move here.
“Fucking sucks, timing wise,” Andrius is grouching. “I don’t need this shit, but I can’t and won’t go against Konstantin. I’ve got to talk to Allyov and hope the cards fall well for us all.”
“If they don’t?” Damen says. “If you have to choose a side, what exactly will you do?”
Andrius shifts in his seat. “I hope I don’t have to choose, my friend.”
He’s playing his cards close to his chest, but I have an inkling of what he’ll do. He’s already stated, categorically that he won’t go against his friend. So that means if he has to choose, he’ll go against his old boss, Allyov, and if he has to do that, Andrius won’t fucking mess about. In some ways, it would suit Andrius if Allyov were taken out of the picture by a rival. The old man has been dragging Andrius back into our world, bit by bit, and Andrius doesn’t want to be along for that ride. I warned Allyov. You do not want a man like that alongside you if he doesn’t want to be there, but Allyov thinks he knows best.
Andrius trusts Damen and Alesso, I believe implicitly; me, he doesn’t trust so much. He might say more when I’m not here, or he might continue to play his cards close to his chest. Either way, it doesn’t matter because I’m convinced I know what his play will be here, and it won’t be good for Allyov if push comes to shove. Or for any of us, for that matter.
It only serves to convince me more that I’ve done the right thing in ordering Rhea to stay here. What with the outside threats now coalescing and my crazy bitch wife, one can’t be too careful.
I’ve given Lena a deadline to be out of the house by Monday. I doubt she’ll adhere to it, however. She seems to have lost any of the fear she felt a few days ago, when we argued, along with any general common sense about her safety. Her thoughts for her own wellbeing are swallowed up by her cold rage and hate. She’d probably suffer the fires of hell so long as I was there right by her side, suffering it too.