Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4)

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Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 21

by Veronica Lancet


  "Marcello knew he couldn't let you live with her, or with your father, since he was even worse, so he thought it best to send you to Sacre Coeur. I don't think he's ever forgiven himself, though, for sending you away," Vlad mentions.

  I take a moment to digest what he's saying.

  "Were they that bad?" I ask eventually, because in my mind nothing could be worse than what I'd endured at Sacre Coeur.

  "You don't want to know," Vlad replies. "There's bad, and then there are your parents," he says, and I take his word.

  If Vlad thinks they were bad, then chances are they were.

  "Thank you for telling me," I whisper, brushing my lips against his.

  This changes things, and it makes me want to put in the effort to know my brother a little better. Maybe I'm not as unwanted as I'd initially thought.

  The following day I have a hard time keeping my eyes open. Vlad had returned me home in the early hours of the morning, and I barely got a wink of sleep. We'd ended up eating, drinking and talking all night, alternating between playing in the water and walking down the beach. Being the only people there had been liberating, and we'd enjoyed a small break from the humdrum of daily life. I also know that Vlad has become increasingly stressed with finding his sister, and that's all he's doing in the time I'm not with him.

  A headache mounting, I make my way to the dining room, ready for family time. Even though Vlad had shed some light on Marcello and his behavior, that doesn't mean I still don't feel like an outsider.

  Just as I start down the stairs, I see my brother and Lina kissing in the hallway.

  At least someone's happy.

  "Sisi?" Lina asks, and I avert my gaze, hiding a smile at witnessing her tender moment with Marcello.

  "Sisi, wait!" She calls out as I head towards the dining room.

  "What?" I turn to her, frowning.

  "What's that?" she inquires, coming to my side and moving my hair aside. She points to something on my neck and it takes me a moment to realize what she's talking about... and how I'd gotten it.

  Oh, damn!

  "Are you ill?" she continues, obviously worried about me. My heart beating loudly in my chest, I mumble an excuse.

  "What? No... something must have bitten me," the lie slips easily, but I can't bring myself to meet her eyes. "I'm hungry, I'll see you in the dining room," I quickly excuse myself and dash out.

  That was a close call.

  What was Vlad thinking to leave that type of mark on my skin, knowing people would see? More than anything, what was I thinking to allow such a thing.

  I shake my head at myself. It's like a lose all inhibitions the moment I find myself in his presence.

  We're taking increasingly more risks, and I don't want to think of Lina or Marcello's reactions if they found out how I've been spending my nights. Getting to know Vlad a little better has made me aware of something. We might fit perfectly together, but that doesn't mean the outside world will see it as such.

  From what Vlad had told me, I'd been able to glean that he isn't much accepted into society. Hell, Marcello, who by all accounts is his friend, doesn't trust him to not go into a murderous rage at any point.

  If anyone knew just how much time we spend together, or how much he's started to mean to me, I have no doubt they would try to put a stop to our rendezvous. And because of that, I can't afford to slip, not even a bit.

  Yes, Vlad is my little secret, but at this point he's the only thing keeping me sane.

  It's later in the evening that I make the courage to seek Marcello out.

  Knocking on the door of his study, I steel myself when I hear his voice calling out, "come in."

  Entering, I hold my head high as I take a seat in front of him.

  "Yes?" he says, surprised to see me.

  "I wanted to tell you thank you," I start, and his eyebrows shoot up in confusion. "For taking me in, and for offering me this chance to start anew," I explain.

  "Sisi, you don't have to thank me for anything," he replies, and for a moment I'm shocked as I hear him use my nickname instead of my full name as he usually does. "This is your home, too. If anything, I should be asking for your forgiveness for not inquiring earlier whether you wanted to stay at Sacre Coeur. I just assumed..." he trails off, looking uncomfortable. "It was wrong of me to think that just because Sacre Coeur was all you've ever known that you wouldn't be curious about the outside world."

  "You couldn't have known," I tell him, "for all intents and purposes, I looked right at home at Sacre Coeur."

  I sigh deeply. Years of interacting with the same people seems to have stunted my ability to relate to others.

  "I'm glad we've sorted this out," I give him a small smile.

  "Me too. I would hate for you to think you're unwelcome in your own house. I know you have a very tight relationship with Lina and Claudia, but I'd like if we could get to know each other too. Slowly," he returns my smile with one of his own.

  "I'd like that." I nod.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "I'm surprised to see you here," Enzo mentions, raising an eyebrow at me as he lights up a cigarette.

  "Are you?" I ask, taking a seat and making myself comfortable.

  Considering our previous enmity, it might seem surprising that I'm visiting Enzo right in his home. But I've recently found some tidbits of information that have changed my perception of him, and our situation. The fact that he's not receiving me with a shotgun in my face just confirms what I already know—Enzo Agosti is a crafty son of a bitch.

  And I have to begrudgingly admit that my respect for the man has increased.

  I'd had my eyes on the Agosti business for a while now, especially since I'd heard some not so glamorous rumors through the grapevine. In my desperation, it had been all the impetus I'd needed to put Agosti under the magnifying glass. And I'd used my former partner, Bianca, to do just that. In a quid pro quo exchange, she'd placed a few bugs in Enzo's office, and for months now the insight I'd gained had helped me narrow down my options.

  "Get to the point, Kuznetsov," Enzo states, looking already bored.

  Ah, but when he hears what I have to say that boredom will for sure be wiped from his face.

  "So impatient. And here I was the one with ADD." I joke, helping myself to his pack of cigarettes uninvited.

  He narrows his eyes at me as I light it up, taking a full drag of the cigarette.

  "I'm not in the mood for your antics, Vlad." He rolls his eyes at me, clearly hoping to see me gone soon.

  "Hmm, and what antics are we talking about?" I feign ignorance.

  He raises an eyebrow at me. "Really?" he shakes his head. "Shall I remind you what happened the last time we were in the same room together?" he asks, and I start chuckling.

  We've had our differences over the years, and all of them started from his wife, or at least his current wife. After the initial debacle, we hadn't had many opportunities to meet. But one time at a summit, we'd once more come to blows when I'd hired a suite of strippers to make their entrance right in the middle of the meeting. I'd even sent them with the personalized message that they were for his wife, since he's not capable of satisfying her.

  Enzo had been thoroughly embarrassed, just as I'd wanted, but his reaction had not been as vehement as I'd anticipated.

  Now I know why...

  Still, the bad blood runs deep, and I doubt this one conversation will magically fix everything. He has something I want, though, so I will bend a little.

  "Come on, Agosti. Where is your sense of humor? They were top class, too. You have no idea how much those charge per hour," I look him up and down, my lips twitching. "You know, if you ever want to retire, that might be one avenue. You're not bad on the eyes. Certainly the ladies love you..." I trail off when I see the tick in his jaw.

  "I wonder if you have a death wish, Kuznetsov. I've always known you to be reckless, but not entirely suicidal."

  "Ahh, Enzo, Enzo," I chuckle, "recklessness is but the desire to die with
out the actual courage. Maybe I just like to court death, but I'm not quite ready to meet my maker." I say, amused.

  "Well, here you are." He replies drily, and I decide to get to the point lest he take out his guns on me. I'd rather not have any holes when I meet Sisi tonight.

  "I want information," I tell him, my smile completely gone.

  He scoffs at me, and I know I need to bring out the big guns.

  "Jimenez," I start, and his attention snaps to me. "I know you've been working with him. Which means that you are currently in possession of some of his businesses."

  His mask doesn't drop at my mention, but his ears sure perk up.

  "What do you want?" He asks tensely. Ah, I knew Enzo was smart. If he realizes I'm aware of his extracurriculars, then he must understand I know far more than that.

  "I told you. Information. I'm looking for a certain Miles, affiliated with Project Humanitas."

  He turns his icy stare on me, debating for a minute what to answer.

  "Come on, Agosti, it doesn't cost you a thing to help a fella out. On the other hand... it could prove very costly to someone living at Sacre Coeur," I stretch in my seat, gleefully watching as my threat sinks in.

  He grits his teeth, but he gives me a brisk nod.

  "I don't know anything about a Project Humanitas," he says and I'm quick to tsk at him, "but," he continues, "there is a Miles that is known in the Club scene, especially in Jimenez's territory. I don't know the guy personally, but he has multiple brokers buying for him every month."

  "Marvelous," I exclaim, a wide smile on my lips, "where can I find this Miles then?"

  "Like I told you, he doesn't show himself. But you can find his brokers," he continues, taking out his computer and punching some keys. "These are the clubs I know for sure they frequent," he pushes the screen towards me and I lean in to read the list of clubs and their addresses.

  "I wasn't aware Papillion was Jimenez's club," I narrow my eyes. The rest I am familiar with as I'd been to all of them in the past in my search for answers. But they are all out of state. Papillion, though is in NYC, and widely known to be under Agosti.

  "No one was," Enzo explains, "but since he wasn't welcomed in New York, he disguised the club. It was the first term I agreed to when I partnered up with him. I'd open a club in my name, and he'd have free rein over it."

  "I see," I drawl, "I'm going to need access to the club."

  Enzo pauses for a moment.

  "I trust your discretion with..."

  "You have my word."

  He nods, taking out his phone and making a few calls.

  "You're going as VIP. Try not to stand out too much. I may have my name on this, but it's out of my control," he says.

  "Don't you worry, Agosti. I'll be a fly on the wall," I give him a dazzling smile, and he closes his eyes, his hands going to his temples.

  "That's what I'm worried about," he groans. "I'm serious, Vlad. The people who frequent those places are not people you want as enemies. It's best if you draw as little attention as possible."

  "Come on, how bad can it be?" I would think it should be the other way around, since my moods are fickle at best.

  He doesn't take my bait. Instead, he withdraws a USB, plugging it in his computer and programming a few things on it.

  "This will give you access to the feed. You know the drill. The club is a front, the auctions are in the basement. Papillion is mostly known for immigrants," he comments, handing me the USB.

  Ah, he wants to get rid of me as quickly as he can. I can only oblige as I stand up, pocketing the USB.

  On my way out, however, I feel compelled to add, "a favor for a favor, Agosti. Your secret is safe with me."

  I don't look back as I leave his house, realizing I need to plan my next move.

  With a last glance at the bags of clothes I'd bought, I can only hope Sisi will like them. Since our misadventure jumping out the window had not worked so well, we'd improvised and developed a system for her to get out undetected through the staff door in the back of the house.

  I've already parked my car off the main road and now I'm just waiting for her to come.

  After leaving Enzo's house, I'd spent the entire day watching the feed from Papillion, making a blueprint of the place and coming up with back-up plans in case our visit might draw unwanted attention. I'd decided to let Sisi accompany me for three reasons. One... well, I don't want to miss a day with her. Two, she will help me blend in, and three, she will ensure I stay focused since Vanya won't be a problem if she's there.

  Why, there's just no reason not to bring her with me, especially since I trust myself to keep her safe.

  "You're smiling again." Vanya points out, and I give her the eye.

  "I'm not," I huff.

  "Yes you are," she crosses her hands over her chest, raising an eyebrow at me. "It's the girl, isn't it?" she asks knowingly.

  "Of course not," I answer a little too fast, and she just smirks at me.

  "It is the girl," she repeats, and I sigh.

  "Ok, maybe it is the girl. I'm not saying it is though. I'm saying there is a possibility." I skirt around the issue, hoping she would drop the subject.

  It's not the first time Vanya's brought this up. In her own words, she's trying to make me realize my feelings for Sisi and that I should wife her up as soon as possible. I mean, technically, what she's saying isn't a bad idea. If I were to wife her up, then she'd belong solely to me. The feelings part is a little murky since I don't think I have those—factory defect, unfortunately—but I can certainly pretend.

  "I knew it!" she exclaims. "You always get that dreamy, star struck look on your face," she adds and my mouth drops open.

  "I do not!" I state vehemently, but she only tsks at me.

  "You doth protest too much." She smirks at me before her form disappears into thin air. Raising my gaze, I spot Sisi running towards the car in the distance.

  For a moment, I think back to Vanya's observations. I agree that maybe I am a schoolboy with a crush. But who wouldn't be? Sisi's not only incredibly attractive, but she's also witty and funny, keeping up with my fucked up sense of humor. She even approves of my less than usual morbid inclinations. If that's not a keeper, then I don't know what is.

  Maybe I should wife her up.

  The idea isn't so bad. Marcello might try to kill me, but at least we wouldn't be sneaking around all the time. I'd even be able to see her in daylight, fact which has proven mightily difficult so far. You'd think us vampires with our nocturnal schedules.

  But the more time I spend with her the more I crave her. It's not nearly enough that I get her near, listening to her laughter, tasting her very essence.

  "God," I groan out loud, reaching down to adjust my cock. It's a common occurrence now. I only have to think about her and I'm hard. It's that simple.

  Hell, the other night at the beach I'd been so crazy for her I'd come in my pants. Awkward, but I'd been able to brush it off by suggesting another dip in the water. Her smell, taste, just the feel of her pussy on my tongue had been an experience unlike any other.

  And as someone who'd previously scoffed at the idea of getting that up and close to another human being, I find that now I can't get close enough.

  For that, I need to do my best not to screw things up. I know I don't have too many things going for me, and that she could do a whole lot better—and more normal—but I have to show her that even with my flaws I'm the best choice.

  Good thing I have strong protections on my computer, because it would be embarrassing to look through my browsing history.

  What type of trained killer searches tips on how to romance a woman?

  Even worse, what type of assassin spends his time on women's forums cataloguing date ideas? I'd be an embarrassment to the entire assassin community, if there even is such a thing.

  Would my victims even fear me anymore if they knew I spend hours picking out women's clothes? Or that I now know there are different shades of blue? I must h
ave memorized the entire color palette in my search for something Sisi would love.

  Fucking hell!

  I'm really losing it this time.

  "You're here." She opens the passenger door, climbing up. She's out of breath from running towards the car, but her smile is wide on her face.

  "You're here," I repeat numbly, sounding like a broken record.

  Sisi doesn't waste any time and leaning forward and giving me a quick kiss.

  "So, what's on for tonight?" She asks excitedly, and I find myself leaving behind all my apprehensions, seeking instead to soak in her presence.

  "Tonight, we go hunting." I tell her, quickly detailing my plan.

  Papillion works a bit differently than the Block, another of Jimenez's most famous clubs.

  As I'd combed through the footage, I'd marked a pattern. The club opens up at twelve, operating as a normal strip club until two. Then, insiders are invited to the basement to watch the entertainment of the night and bid on their favorites. Enzo hadn't been kidding when he'd said immigrants were the main attraction.

  The club receives requests for different types of people from around the globe, but instead of fulfilling them in a onetime deal, they prefer to make buyers fight for the merchandise, and as such raise their profits. It's all quite ingenious, from a business standpoint, since apparently Papillion's ability to outsource any type of human is unparalleled.

  I can definitely see why that Miles would be a regular in such a place. Now, though, I'm curious to know what personalized requests he puts in.

  Luckily, from what I'd been able to glean, the host calls out the specifications, thus putting the potential buyer on the spot and ensuring potential competition gets wind of it to drive the prices up.

  The entire scheme is brilliant, and I can only imagine the type of money Papillion brings in.

 

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