Morally Corrupt: A Dark Romance (Morally Questionable Book 1)

by Veronica Lancet

  There are far more critical things to do now than for me to mentally debate how much of a sociopath my wife truly is. I shake myself from those thoughts as we meet up with Vlad in his office. Bianca had already called him to let him know we were coming.

  "My condolences for your father, little goddess. I'm so sorry you didn't get to kill him yourself." Vlad taunts Bianca, and she only gives him a droll look.

  "Yeah, well, there goes my lifelong goal of murdering my sire."

  With these two, it's hard to tell when they are joking about murder or not, especially since most of the time, they are not.

  "What did Martin want when he took you aside?" I ask, as I remember.

  "He wasn't making much sense, to be honest. You noticed how drunk he was. That was highly unusual for him. He started saying how he got lured by the money and that he shouldn't have done something... I have no idea what it was."

  "Do you think he was afraid? Maybe he knew what was coming?"

  "Maybe." She ponders this and turns to Vlad. "We need to hear the recordings. Whoever killed Martin was in there not long after we planted the bugs."

  "I already prepared them." Vlad casually leans back in his seat and hits play on the computer.

  There is a lot of static noise, followed by our voices as we left the room, and then after some fast-forwarding, we hear Martin's voice.

  "You came sooner than I expected." Martin slurred.

  "I only do as mi senor demands." Another male voice responds. The use of Spanish could be an indicator of who the other man is.

  "He kept me around for so long as his circus animal... Always fearing when he was going to strike."

  "You should have known it was going to come. Eventually. Especially after you refused to hand over your daughter."

  "I didn't refuse it." Martin immediately counters. "He didn't want to meet my conditions. But then, I screwed him too, didn't I? When I gave her to Hastings? He's probably still bitter about that, isn't he?"

  "You overestimate the impact of your petty revenge. No, that's not why I'm here."

  "Oh, I know why. It's because of Agosti, isn't it?" Martin gave a bitter laugh. "You don't like that I switched teams."

  "Then, you know what to expect... how a traitor gets treated."

  "You think I didn't know you were coming? I wanted to go out on my terms." Martin says before some movements indicate a struggle.

  "Hijo de puta!" The other man exclaims.

  After, the audio picks on some noises that are likely the man doing the physical damage to Martin's body. Vlad stops the recording then, and we are all perplexed.

  I'm shocked at the contents of the audio. Did Martin want to sell Bianca? What kind of fucked up shit is that? How could he even contemplate that? Especially given his wealth, what more could he possibly want that he'd be willing to trade in his own daughter.

  "Well." Bianca starts, and she doesn't seem the least affected by what she'd just heard. "We know the assailant spoke Spanish. We just need the list of invitees to see who it might have been."

  "And how do you intend to ask for it?" Vlad asks. "Enzo will want to know why Spanish, and you can't very well say that you bugged his office."

  Bianca strokes her chin and thinks, and within seconds her eyes light up, and she reaches for her phone.

  "Enzo. Yes, it's Bianca. I just remembered something that might be useful. Before he was killed, my father took me aside and told me he had some money problems and that some Spanish person was after him. Yes, I'm sure he said Spanish... Do you think you could check the invitee list and forward me the names of Spanish or Spanish speakers? Are you sure?... And the times match?... Do you happen to have a picture from your CCTV?... Yes, thank you!"

  "So?" Both me and Vlad ask at the same time

  "You're not going to like this."

  "Spill, B!" Vlad seems as anxious as I am.

  "Enzo told me that the only Spanish speaking person he could name off the top of his head was Jimenez's substitute and that the man who was following him lost him around the time Martin turned up dead. After that, he just vanished."

  My eyes widen as I take in the new information.

  "Martin and Jimenez?" Vlad's eyebrows shoot up. "Now that I didn't think of."

  "Did you?" I ask Bianca, and my words come out a little harsher than I intended.

  "No, not at all." She frowns as she's thinking. "I didn't always pay attention to whatever garbage Martin involved himself in, but I would have never believed him to be that deep with the cartel.

  I believe her. She has no reason to lie, considering her strained relationship with Martin.

  "Replay the conversation!" I turn back to the computer, and Vlad clicks on play again.

  "There!" I stop him, and you can hear Martin say again, "He didn't want to meet my conditions. But then I screwed him too, didn't I? When I gave her to Hastings. He's probably still bitter about that, isn't he?"

  "He was planning to sell me to Jimenez?" Bianca narrows her eyes.

  "It must have been around the time we started dating. Although I really don't know what he means by giving you to me."

  "I think he means forcing our meetings. Let's face it, after he introduced us, you were forever a fixed element in the house. That, I didn't even have to manufacture myself." Bianca adds ironically, and looking back, I have to agree. Martin had been trying to force a proximity between us. But why?

  "Why you?" Bianca voices my own question. "The question now is whether Jimenez was bitter just because it wasn't him or because it was you specifically."

  "And why would Jimenez want you?" I shudder to think of the possibility. No, better not let my mind wander there.

  "Why does anyone want a barely legal girl?" She says with a shrug, and Vlad finds this the best time to joke.

  "It might have been better if your father had given you to Jimenez." When none of us are replying, he further adds. "He would already be dead. Come on, you think B would have spared him?" He addresses this to me.

  "Probably not..." I respond.

  "We need to figure out what connection Martin had with Jimenez," Bianca says before looking at her phone and frowning. "Wait. Vlad, I'm forwarding you Enzo's pictures. Pull them up on the screen."

  Vlad complies, and the CCTV pictures show a silver-haired man in a tuxedo mingling around the guests. Swiping through the images, he finally stops at one that shows a close-up of the man.

  "Shit," I exclaim, moving closer to the screen to make sure I'm not wrong.

  "Anyone you know?" Vlad turns his head towards me.

  "Yes...I knew him. At least I think so. He's older now, of course. But I knew him more than fifteen years ago."

  "Who is he?"

  "He was a priest at the church that took me in after I left foster care. He's the one who helped me get back on my feet and train for the small league fights. Why would..." I trail off, not really making sense of any of this. Why would Jimenez's man help me after his own boss killed my family?

  "Maybe he wasn't working for Jimenez yet?" Bianca offers, and I shake my head.

  "No, I don't think so. He never spoke with a Spanish accent back then, never even used Spanish words. If he wasn't under Jimenez, why try so hard to mask his speech?"

  "But that would mean..." Bianca starts

  "That Jimenez has known who I am all along."

  "Wait!" Bianca suddenly remembers something and puts her clutch on the desk, her fingers working the opening mechanism, and removing what looks to be a memory card.

  "Can you play this as well? Now that we know what he looks at, maybe we can get some clues from what my camera filmed." She hands the memory card to Vlad to plug it into his computer.

  "I didn't know you were filming as well," I add.

  "Cozying up to the enemy is only ever for information gathering. Let's face it. Enzo may be all nice and polite, especially given Martin's death in his house, but he’s still going to be the enemy after this ends."

  "Fair enough. I like t
hat you're so thorough." I admit, my voice filled with admiration. And I am.

  I don't know if it’s because she's stopped pretending or because she's drug-free, but this version of Bianca is competent and scary.

  But I find that I like that too.

  Vlad signals that the video has been downloaded onto the computer and plays it for us.

  "Lucky we weren't there for long," Bianca adds dryly, realizing that we can't just fast forward it as we did with the audio.

  Our eyes glued to the screen, we keep watching.

  "There. See that, man?" Vlad points to the silver-haired man in the far right of the frame. "When is this?"

  "It must have been when I was talking with Martin. He was watching him."

  We continue to watch frame by frame, and the man appears a few more times in the background. Most of the time, he was in Martin's vicinity. There is one instance, though, when we were in the drawing-room, that the man was present, this time watching us.

  "Shit!" Bianca curses and purses her lips. "Vlad, whatever you know about Jimenez, I think now it's time to spit it out. This is getting out of hand."

  "You wound me, little goddess. So little patience."

  "Vlad!"

  "Fine, fine. I told you I'd give you the club he frequents. It's called The Block, and it's in Atlantic City. And it's a little more... on the wild side. Other than that, I know a few of his businesses, but honestly, half the time, the information I get on him ends up being a fake rumor."

  "How do you know this club is legit then?"

  "I have very close sources that attest to the information."

  "Perfect. I'll wait until the funeral, and I'm going." I say.

  "We're going." Bianca corrects. "I'm not letting you go alone."

  "I can handle myself just fine."

  "Fine will get you killed. Don't worry, I'll be your bodyguard."

  "Bianca... seriously?"

  "I am extremely serious. You are not going anywhere without me. And that's final." She folds her arms over her chest, suggesting the conversation is over.

  I throw my hands up in exasperation, and Vlad chuckles.

  "I'd do as she says. She can be exceedingly stubborn. But do keep her from drugs." I shake my head in resignation, not that I was planning on putting too much resistance anyway.

  "One condition, though," I add, needing to set some boundaries.

  "What?" Basks, looking at me all innocent. Sure...

  "No killing. No killing Jimenez, or any other man." Now she pouts.

  "Why? At least Jimenez." She pleads.

  "No. I didn't take Theo's identity and got so far in my career for nothing. I want to see Jimenez prosecuted to the full extent of the law for his wrongdoings. It's something I promised myself when this all started."

  Bianca rolls her eyes at me as if this all seems too much for her, but she eventually relents.

  "Fine. No killing." She sighs and looks so dejected as if I just took away her favorite toy.

  Right around then, Bianca's phone rings, and she mouths that it's Enzo again.

  "Yes? So fast... Oh, I didn't realize you could find that out so fast... No, I really don't know... Thank you for this update... Yes, tell them to forward me the details... I'll see you at the funeral."

  Sighing in a bored manner, Bianca relates what Enzo told her.

  "Apparently preliminary results show cyanide poisoning. They found vast amounts in his mouth, so they are suspecting a suicide pill."

  "So that was the noise we heard in the audio..." I muse out loud.

  "Even in death, Martin simply has to have the last word." Bianca sounds disappointed.

  "Now what?" Vlad suddenly asks, and both me and Bianca share a look.

  "We have a funeral to plan. Yayy." Bianca replies with fake enthusiasm before stomping her foot in frustration. "Do you know what this means? I have to fucking pretend to be sad that the old man is gone. Fuuuuck! I need to buy eye drops."

  "I think you're not the only one who's going to attempt to shed fake crocodile tears." I've known Martin close to ten years, and he's never struck me as the type to inspire that sort of emotion in a person.

  CHAPTER XXXVI

  Adrian was right. I am definitely not the only one crying my eyes out.

  At this point, I've already used up two bottles of eye drops. Adrian is holding onto my arm with a stern look on his face as I hunch over the coffin, sobbing at least audibly if not visually. But I am not the only one putting on a show. On the other side of the coffin is Allegra, wailing like a banshee. Somehow, I doubt her love for my father was that strong.

  Enzo is sitting next to the row of chairs. The ceremony just ended, and they are ready to lower the coffin into the ground. Finally, I'd be rid of the old man forever. I have to mentally tell myself to build up the patience to withstand this display.

  I'm surprised Adrian hasn’t tried to dissuade me from going this far, but even he knows that appearances have to be kept.

  After all is said and done, we invite everyone back to the house. I'm thankful, though, that Adrian is doing most entertaining, and I can take a break. Fake crying does take a toll on you.

  Of course, Allegra seems to get the memo as well when she passes out in the drawing-room. I have to wonder if this is part of the act or she's too worn out from the crying. Enzo is currently picking her up from the floor, none too pleased to be put into this position, and deposits her on one of the sofas.

  "She took it pretty rough, didn't she?" I ask sarcastically after he leaves her and heads to the refreshment table.

  "She's been hysterical for days."

  "How long were they together?"

  "That I know of? A few months." He pours himself a glass of wine and casually leans against the wall. From the corner of my eye, I see Adrian talking to some old men. He catches my eye and glares at me for some reason.

  He's probably mad I'm throwing him to the wolves.

  "I don't know what she saw in him." I shake my head at the mental image of Allegra and Martin. Allegra is around my age, for God's sake. The entire situation is too disgusting to contemplate.

  "My wife has unusual tastes in men." I detect almost a smile as he says the words, but it's quickly gone as he asks me. "I'm curious about you, though."

  "Me?" I feign ignorance and give him a small smile. Again, Adrian scowls at me from across the room. What's wrong with him?

  "You were almost too calm when you saw Martin... heartless, so to speak. And today, you were worse than Mary at Jesus' crucifixion. So which one is it?"

  "Enzo, a woman must preserve an air of mystery at all times."

  "Indeed. I just find it odd. Martin commits suicide before having his heart carved out and a T branded on his forehead by the henchman of a drug lord."

  "Considering Martin's implication with you, I think it's not surprising he would have availed himself to the services of a cartel."

  "Touché." Enzo laughs. "But I do wonder. Why did you conceal the suicide?"

  "It's rather simple. Martin wanted to end up on top with that stunt of his. I merely ensured he wouldn't be able to crawl from the bottom. Pun intended." I say this with a straight face, but Enzo's eyes are twinkling with merriment. He shifts a little closer, and that's when I hear a throat being cleared.

  "Enzo." Adrian greets him with a deadly stare, to which Enzo just smiles. "My wife must be tired after suffering so much. I think it's time she rested." He puts his arm around my shoulders and doesn't wait for Enzo or for me to reply, steering my up the stairs.

  "What about the other guests?" I turn to him and ask.

  "They'll eventually find their way out."

  "You didn't have to be so rude. Really, Enzo was just being polite."

  "Too damn close for polite," Adrian grumbles, and I suddenly realize what this is. My lips stretch into a smile, and I let myself be led by him.

  "This...?" I ask when I realize he's stopped in front of a guest room.

  "I remember what you told me about yo
ur childhood room. You might prefer to rest here." I look at him for a second, trying to decipher what it is I'm feeling right now. There is a warmth in my chest...

  "Thank you," I say, suddenly shy. I open the door and dash inside, closing it behind me.

  What was that?

  I fan myself a little, and I go into the ensuite bathroom to look in the mirror.

  My cheeks are red.

  I turn on the faucet and clean my face, removing the mix of dirt and eye drops.

  Taking Adrian's advice to rest, I take off my clothes, remove the mini pistol from my boot, and place it under the pillow. One hour of sleep should be enough to forget about this fiasco and those people to leave. I mean, let's face it, no one, absolutely no one, is mourning Martin. I doubt even Allegra felt even a smidgen of tenderness towards him. He was just an awful and distasteful person.

  I wake up a while later, and I head downstairs. It seems that most people have left. There's only Marcel and Adrian in the middle of the hallway, engaged in conversation.

  "Bianca." Marcel acknowledges me with a nod that I return.

  "Is everyone gone?"

  "Yes, a while ago," Adrian tells me as he goes towards the bar and pours himself a drink. "I talked to most people, and no one seemed suspicious."

  "And here I thought his enemies would at least come to gloat." I sigh and cross my arms. "I went through all of the files in his office, and there isn't anything incriminating." For the past three days since Enzo's party, I'd scoured every inch of the house, trying to find at least some evidence of Martin's relationship with Jimenez.

  "Martin was many things, but careless was not one of them," Adrian adds.

  "There is only one place I have not managed to look in." Both Marcel and Adrian look at me expectantly. "His safe."

  "Safe?" Adrian frowns.

  "I don't think anyone knew about the safe. I didn't until I snooped around. It's hidden in his dressing room."

  "Have you tried opening it?" Marcel asks, and I shake my head.

  "I couldn't. It's one of those high-tech ones. It has biometrics."

  "Then how can we break it? We need to see what's inside."

  "Don't worry. I couldn't, until now that is"

  "What do you mean?"