Demise (The Clans Book 13)

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Demise (The Clans Book 13) Page 9

by Elizabeth Knox


  “Does this look like one of my practical jokes, Mother?” Bianca questions her.

  I wrap one hand around Bianca, while placing the other on her stomach where our child blissfully grows each day.

  A crashing sound causes Bianca to jump and I peer past her to see the laptop is shattered against the wall, while Ion is hovering over the table in an angered state, his nostrils flaring from his fury.

  “I’ll say this now before anyone gets any ideas. I’m in love with Stefan Dalca, and I will give birth to our child. Though, I’m sure you’ll be pleasantly surprised by this. I’m not just with Stefan. This incorrigible man over here has somehow weaseled his way into my heart as well.”

  “So . . . what, you’re dating Mircea?” Mariana asks.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Mariana rubs her hands over her face in complete disbelief, “Jesus, Bianca. I knew you were eccentric, but never did I think you’d . . . be into this polygamous crap.”

  “I’ve never been into polygamy, Mother. It just happened. None of us planned on this to happen.” Bianca tells her.

  “I could fucking kill you and make this a lot easier, Dalca.” Ion seethes in my direction.

  “You would never take the only parent Daniella has from her life. The girl has gone through enough, and Daddy, if you even try to hurt a hair on his head you know I will become your worst nightmare. I am your daughter after all. Relax, though. Stefan treats me like a princess.”

  Ion manages to sit back in his chair, although the glares and angered looks don’t dissipate. I have a feeling it will take a while for her parents to accept our relationship, or the fact I’m the father of their first grandchild.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Mircea

  If you ask me, I feel like a real jet setter right about now. I was just in Vegas not too long ago and now here I am with Stefan Dalca in the heart of Los Angeles.

  Over the past few days, I’ve had people watching Kronid’s credit card transactions, texting me updates on the man wherever he’s going. He’s in Los Angeles right now, his last transaction being at a bar. One that’s well known from what Stefan has told me.

  Stefan and I aren’t friends whatsoever, but we’re putting our differences aside to both be here for Bianca, in whatever way she needs us. Maybe after a while things will settle down and we’ll both be able to cope with caring for the same woman. It’s become evident that Stefan loves her fiercely. I’m only beginning to care for Bianca, though I have a feeling this will only intensify as time passes.

  “Are we still going to do what she’s asked?” I question Stefan, choosing to put my personal feelings aside. This is business, and sometimes things need to get bloody.

  Stefan shoots me a glare, “She asked for us to show him mercy, and so we shall. No one can know about this, Mircea. If you’re feeling too chickenshit to follow through with this, then get out of here. I can handle this by myself.” The fact he’ll put Bianca’s needs above the Clans is shocking to me. All Clan leaders are supposed to want uniformity, protection, allegiance . . . but here we are.

  “Have you forgotten he’s behind Anton’s death? That children will grow up without a parent?” I stop in my tracks, grabbing his arm.

  Stefan huffs, “It’s not my job to cast judgement here. If it were, I’d say we throw him off the top of a skyscraper. But, Bianca has asked we show him mercy, so we need to. Mircea, you need to understand her childhood wasn’t normal in the least bit. This man, as corrupt as he may be, is the only thing linking her to a part of herself she might never otherwise have the opportunity to understand.”

  The fact he can turn a blind eye for Bianca’s selfish need pisses me off. I know we both care for her. It’s obvious. But there’s a right thing to do, and a wrong one. In this moment I’m seeing how Stefan’s reputation is accurate. He’s one hell of a Tasmanian devil, your friend one minute and then turning his back on you the next. Corrupt as can be. I’m no angel, but I don’t agree with this.

  “So, what? We’re supposed to forgive his actions because he’s related to her?”

  Stefan shakes his head, digs into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette. He lights it in front of me and leans up against a wall on the street, using this opportunity as a smoke break. “Who said anything about forgiveness? Jesus, you really think she’d want him back on the streets? No. Not going to happen. He’s done horrible things against our people and he’ll pay his price. He’ll be working for Katya, Natasha’s ex-stepmother. She’s in charge of Sergei Kolosov’s business ventures since his death quite a while ago. Katya operates most of her business in Russia and the Ukraine, specializing in mail order brides and whatnot. Human trafficking is a thing of the past in her eyes, especially after she was a victim of that as well. She splits her time up in Tennessee, New York, and Moscow. We’re shipping him off to work. It’s essentially a prison sentence. He’ll be able to live his life, because of our Bianca’s mercy, and only because of it. Is that clear?”

  “I don’t fucking like this.” I grit, standing my ground.

  “What part of this don’t you understand? You don’t have to like it. Bianca asked this of us, so it will be done. You know what. Stay the fuck here, and don’t follow me. If you don’t want to be part of this, then you won’t. It’s as simple as that.” Stefan snaps, pushing himself off the wall, he continues up the street to the bar Kronid’s at.

  I stand here debating on whether or not I should be following him. Although, I don’t want any part of this, so I’ll stand right here.

  If he and Bianca want to save her brother, they can deal with the guilt of it. But I won’t.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Bianca

  The kettle’s whistle on the stove pulls me out of my daze. I pick it up and put it on the back burner while I turn the stove off. Picking the kettle up by the handle, I pour the steaming hot water over the chamomile and lavender tea leaves, praying it’ll help me relax. Lord knows I need it right now.

  Turning around, I grab my tea cup and go over to the window to look out into the backyard. It’s a bright and sunny day here in New York. The leaves are vibrant and full of life as spring is just starting to begin. Dad had some of the men add a small Japanese Maple in the backyard, giving it a beautiful burgundy-purple touch.

  I unclasp the copper hook keeping the windows together and push them forward, wanting to see the birds swooping down to the trees, needing to smell the fresh flowers starting to bloom. What I really need is to relax and no matter what, my mind is driving me absolutely insane. No matter what, I’m only able to focus on Stefan and Mircea, terrified for whatever they’re going to walk into . . . at any moment’s notice.

  I clasp the necklace around my neck, the two hearts interlocked with the one in the center . . . hopeful that they’ll be okay. Stefan and Mircea aren’t only intelligent, but ruthless and calculating as well. Deep down I know it’s highly unlikely something bad would happen to them, but there’s always a small chance and pregnancy has only made me even more worrisome.

  “Bianca, can we have a chat?” My mother asks from behind me.

  I turn around and nod my head, quickly taking a sip of tea. “Sure, is here alright?”

  “No, I’d like to go upstairs where it’s a bit more private.” She answers me quickly and hurries off through the living room, already starting up the stairs.

  I decide to take my tea and follow her, though I’m in no rush. Pregnancy isn’t only making me more emotional, but exhausted and easily winded as well. I get to the stairwell when Daniella speaks up. “Is everything okay?”

  Facing her as I walk around to the other side of the railing, “Yes, if something was wrong I’d tell you. I’m only having a discussion with my mother. You go ahead and keep reading that new book. I take it you like the series?” I’ve been trying my best to bond with Daniella. I’d never try to replace her mother, but I won’t lie and say I’m not trying to be a motherly figure to her. I want her to care for me in some manner, and consi
dering she’ll be having a little sister in the next few months, it’s best we get on the right foot now.

  She nods eagerly, “Yes, it’s great. Thank you so much. I’m almost finished with this one, so I’ll be ready for the next soon.” Daniella smiles brightly and I see her slight innuendo.

  “Perfect. It’ll give you and I an excuse to go to the bookstore. Maybe we can even grab some cheesecake and a hot tea too.”

  “I’d love that.” Daniella and I have a couple things in common, the most prominent being our love of books. I’m using it to my advantage to get us more acquainted.

  “Perfect. I’ll be back down in a bit.” I tell her as I make my way up the stairs.

  The door to my parents’ study is open so I walk right on in and shut the door behind me. Though, as I shut it, I realize Ysenia is in one of my father’s beloved black leather armchairs. Beside her on the other side of the small oval table is where he sits, smoking a cigar while a glass of whiskey sits on the table. There are two other chairs that circle around the table and my mother takes one. “Please sit, Bianca. We have some things we need to discuss.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, I reluctantly take a seat while my heart beats a mile a minute. Ysenia seems a bit nervous as well, brushing her medium brown hair behind an ear, she immediately shifts her eyes to our father. Or rather, the man who’s always been a father to me. We share no real DNA considering my biological father kidnapped and raped my mother, but, he’s never treated me like I wasn’t his. He’s my dad, through and through.

  Our father takes his glass from the table and downs a swig of the amber colored liquor before setting it back down. Clearing his throat, he shifts his deep mossy green eyes between my sister and I. “There’s something I’ve been keeping from you both, for quite some time now.”

  My throat tightens as anxiety rushes through my body. I unconsciously clench my hands on my lap and bite my bottom lip, terrified for whatever he’s about to tell us. Ysenia shifts in her seat, looking to our mother for reassurance, but she offers none.

  “I’ll cut to the chase, given you’re both undoubtedly freaking out.” He chuckles lightly in an effort to alleviate some of our worries, but it’s no use. He knows us far too well. “First, let me start off by saying I am okay, even if what I’m about to tell you is scary. I am alright, and I am in the position to be receiving some of the best medical care money can buy.”

  Our mother grabs our father’s hand, squeezing it. It’s the only signal we need to know she’s terrified to tell us about this as well. Her crow’s feet on the corner of her eyes seem deeper now, and so do the stress lines on her forehead. I assumed it was because of the mafia, though, now I’m realizing it might not have had anything to do with it.

  “You both know I’ve given a plethora of excuses for using my handy sidekick here,” He holds up his cane, “Usually around lower back issues. But, it’s a lie. It’s what I’ve told people to ease their minds, and . . . for a while I might’ve even begun to believe everything I was saying. The truth is I don’t have an issue with my back, girls. I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis a couple years back, around the time you began to see me with this.”

  The room is eerily quiet as Ysenia and I both process what he’s admitted. I cradle my baby bump to ease my mind, or at least to try and ease it.

  He clears his throat again and focuses in on my sister, “My nerves have been degenerating at an accelerating rate, which led me to need my cane. I was fortunate that we caught it quickly and I was able to find a regimen of medicines which helped slow down the damage. However, I think you’re both realizing this is just a band-aid. My illness will phase in and out, so I will have flare ups as I have had in the past, and other times I will go into remission where I show almost no symptoms.”

  “Are . . . are you dying?” The words slip past my lips before I even realize what I’ve asked.

  In his typical fashion, he laughs, shaking his head. “No. I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with my overbearing ass for at least twenty more years. I have children to finish raising, and grandchildren to watch be born, and maybe even a couple daughters to walk down the aisle.” His eyes shift between Ysenia and I as a smile pulls the corner of his lips.

  “Okay. I’m sorry. This is just a bit shocking.” I mutter, rubbing my stomach. I look to my mother, who’s eyes are focused solely on my father.

  “Are you in any pain?” Ysenia questions, furrowing her brows. She’s just like our mother, well, her nurturing side that is.

  “Sometimes, but not all the time. I’m one of the lucky ones, baby. I’m okay. I promise. Things are becoming more difficult to do, but I am okay.”

  My mother whips her head to look at me with tears in her eyes. Some slip from the corners and coat her cheeks. “We asked you here, and your sister because we both wanted to tell you the truth. But, Bianca, this will affect you because we’ve . . . we’ve decided that because of your father’s health we’re going to pass down the throne sooner than we thought.”

  “I’m afraid retirement in my sixties isn’t in the cards for us any longer.” He speaks up, looking at me with those forest green eyes, pulling a corner of his lips up slightly. God, he’s always trying to make light of tough situations.

  “You need to be ready for this, for the role you’re going to inherit.” My mother speaks up, staring intently into my eyes. She’s always been so serious, so demanding.

  I nod my head, knowing what my duty will be. “I’ll be ready. I promise.”

  She accepts my reply and stands, brushing her hands over her deep violet dress. “Alright, well, I have some things I need to attend to. Ysenia, would you give me a hand?”

  “Sure,” my sister replies, standing and following our mother while they exit the study, shutting the door firmly behind them.

  Now it’s just the two of us and he brushes his hand over his beard. “How are you feeling, knowing all of this?”

  “Shocked. Terrified. Scared. Unprepared. I could go on and on you know.” I mutter, trying to smile, though I’ve never been a good person when it comes to hiding feelings.

  He rises from his seat and uses his cane to help his balance as he makes his way over to my chair. “Don’t make an old man bend down, come here, Puff.”

  That name. I haven’t heard him call me by it since I was but a small child, maybe ten or so.

  I do as he asks and wrap my arms around him, burrowing my face into his chest as I did when I was a little girl. Tears slip past my eyelashes, soon coating his shirt. I knew this day would come where he’d prepare me for my future with the Clans, but I never anticipated it would be a direct result of his health. “I love you so much, Dad.” I cry into his chest, holding onto him with as much strength as I can muster up. My arms are wrapped so tightly around him, it’s as if my own life depends on it.

  “I love you so fucking much, Puff. More than I could ever put into words.”

  I hold onto him, knowing I want a bit more time with him tonight. I’ll have one of the guards take Daniella home and will go meet her in a few hours, then I’ll come back tomorrow morning. We have so much to go over. I don’t want to miss anything important, but most of all, I don’t want to fail. When the time comes, I want him to be glad he trusted me with the Clans.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Stefan

  Most would prefer to use movers to move into their new homes, and while I accepted some help, I felt this was a family ordeal that we all needed to take part in. We could’ve easily had some staff unbox our things and put them away . . . however, this is our home, the home that we’re all building together.

  I’m sitting in the library which is off to the left of the front door. It has a bay window that overlooks the quaint street we now live on. Which is an oddity in general, considering we live in the city that never sleeps.

  The front door bursts open out of nowhere and Bianca passes by me in the blink of an eye. One of her father’s hired guards comes in behind her, shutting the front do
or to our home. I don’t know his name, though I’ve seen his face many times, so I know he’s trustworthy. “Is everything okay?” Daniella asks me from the corner of the library as she sits in a deep blue armchair with gold accents. She actually helped me pick these out for Bianca’s sanctuary. Well, her and Bianca’s. The two women who mean the most to me have a love of reading, whether it’s a children’s adventure novel or poetry from the eighteenth century.

  I nod, sure I’m not lying to my daughter. “Yeah. Bianca must’ve had a rough day at work. That’s all.”

  Daniella draws her brows together and glances out the window while she speaks. “Are you sure? I mean . . . nothing happened, right?”

  Focusing in on her, I take a deep breath before I respond. Years have past and yet I know what she’s fearful of. “If it did, we would already know. Nothing bad happened baby. I promise.”

  Her eyes flicker back to me for a second before she clasps the necklace around her neck. The pearl is a family heirloom from Presley. One her great-grandmother had given her when she was a baby, and something I made sure ended up in Daniella’s hands. Presley had worn it the day she died, but I knew she would’ve wanted our daughter to have it.

  “Daddy . . . I don’t . . . I don’t think I could handle it if something happened to you.” Daniella admits, rubbing her hand against her chest. She’s nervous, hell maybe even scared.

  I rise from where I sat a moment ago and break the distance between Daniella and I. Kneeling down, I cusp her face in my hand and look into the eyes she inherited from me. Looking over her features, from her round cheeks, to blonde, wispy hair . . . I see yet again she’s the perfect combination of Presley and myself. “Nothing is going to happen. I’m a relentless bastard, baby. Lord help the person who tries to come after me, you, your little sister, or Bianca. I’d kill for us all.”

 

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