Pretty Sinner: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs Book 3)

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Pretty Sinner: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs Book 3) Page 18

by B. B. Hamel


  Restricted.

  There was only so much they could do.

  Penny was like that. She was a middle child. There wasn’t much choice aside from marrying some rich guy and helping out her family’s power.

  She wasn’t useful otherwise.

  I hated that. I wished it could be different, but was acutely aware that if she could’ve done anything in the world, she wouldn’t be with me.

  I’d still keep her. The world be damned.

  But in a case like Redmond’s, where the head of the family died suddenly and under extremely suspicious circumstances, handover of power might not go so smoothly. My men gave me some reports. There were rumors of purges and killings in his house. I’d expected some of that, but based on the way he’d been acting, I had a feeling it was much worse than I realized.

  Poor bastard. He’d been prepared, but it was never easy to murder people that had worked for your father for years.

  Redmond swirled the ice in his drink. “What do you propose instead?”

  “She’s dangerous. We all know how smart Erin Servant is.”

  “You want to kill her.”

  “Penny asked me to.”

  That got his attention. “Really?” he asked thoughtfully, then scowled. “Why would you tell me that?”

  “Because I can’t do it. Even if Penny truly wanted her sister dead, she’d never forgive me if I were the one to do it. I need your help.”

  He barked a laugh, more like his old self then. “You need my help doing your dirty work.”

  “That’s right. Clean up this mess.”

  “My answer’s no.”

  “No? You’re not in a position to turn me down.”

  He threw back his drink and slammed the glass onto the bar. “I know you think the sun shines out of your ass—”

  “Out of my cock, but go on.”

  He grimaced. “You aren’t all-powerful, Kaspar. You’re strong now, but what about Erin’s brother? And her brother’s brooding best friend? Darren and Roman will make our life hell. In particular mine if I kill Erin.”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “I’ll deal with them.”

  “You’re full of shit. I won’t kill her.”

  “Then come up with an alternative solution. She wants to start her own Oligarch family and I told her I’d help. I have no intention of honoring that agreement, but if she’s allowed to live, she’ll make my life hell.”

  “I’m not sure I see how that’s my problem.”

  I took a few steps toward him. “Right now, our fate is wrapped up together tightly. When Maeve falls, we’ll be blamed. If we start fighting, the others will quickly take advantage of our weakness. We need to be united.”

  He glared at me. “Then stop treating me like I’m your subordinate.”

  I took a couple steadying breaths. He was right. I’d been thinking about him as the old Redmond, the hard-partying oldest son of Old Bern, not the head of an Oligarch family. We were peers now, whether I liked it or not.

  “If you don’t want to kill her, what can we do about her instead?”

  Redmond poured another drink. At this rate, he’d be too drunk to do much of anything, but I said nothing. I wasn’t his father.

  No, we killed the old man, and now Redmond was all alone.

  I was his only friend, and at the moment, he was surrounded by enemies. If he was smart, he’d do whatever he could to keep my favor.

  But maybe I should’ve given him more credit. Redmond might’ve been thinking long-term. If he stood up to me right away, then it would be easier to come into his own down the line, after things settled, without my help.

  “Erin wants her own Oligarch family,” he said, musing a bit, swirling the brown liquid. “And we’re about to take down an Oligarch.” He arched his eyebrows.

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “Someone will have to fill Maeve’s shoes.”

  “I don’t want it to be Erin.”

  “You might not have a choice.” He raised a hand to still my angry retort. “Let me think on this some more. I’ll come up with something to keep her under control. If we kill her, war with Darren and Roman will be guaranteed. But there are other ways.”

  “We don’t have long, so think fast.”

  “It’s what I’m best at.” He threw back more alcohol then strode to the door. Gunshots sparked again, but only a few this time. “Fighting’s nearly done. I think I’ll take my leave now and go see to my men.”

  “Not a bad idea.” He reached for the door handle. “Redmond.” He looked back. “Don’t forget who helped you get where you are, and I won’t forget who helped me bring down my enemy.”

  He flashed me a smile. “Don’t worry, Kaspar. I don’t turn my back on my friends, even ones like you.” Then he left and I was alone again.

  Damn Redmond. Damn Erin. My plans felt like they shivered on the edge of a cliff, ready to drop into nothingness below. I despised myself for allowing so many variables to slip into my plans.

  I liked control. I wanted to know where I was going before I stepped foot outside. I mapped out every possible course whenever possible, but at a certain point when there were too many unknowns, I had to concede that plans were impossible, and improvisation would have to rule the day.

  It drove me wild, but couldn’t be helped.

  I had to trust Redmond would come up with a solution for Erin.

  And if he didn’t, then I had to hope that Penny would forgive me one day for putting a bullet in her sister’s head.

  27

  Penny

  Present Day

  Chicago

  Kaspar returned home later that day. He smelled like smoke and blood. I helped him out of his jacket, poured him a drink, and steered him to one of the chairs in front of the crackling fire. He looked out over the city, eyes ringed with exhaustion while his men stood stoically nearby, guarding over the beautiful room.

  I sat down on the arm of the chair and leaned across his shoulders.

  “Hard day?” I asked.

  “Hard day,” he agreed. “She wasn’t there.”

  I chewed on that for a moment. “Is that such a bad thing?”

  He glanced at me. “The entire point of what we’re doing is to find Maeve and kill her before the other Oligarchs can marshal their forces and stop what’s happening. Speed means everything.”

  “But what if you don’t kill Maeve?”

  He soaked that in before standing. He walked to the windows and stared outside, taking small sips, before he turned back to regard me.

  “When you were growing up, how often did you spend time with your father?”

  I frowned in surprise. “Not often,” I admitted. “He spent all his time with Darren and Erin since they were the oldest.”

  “Then there was your sister Livvie. Then there was you.”

  “And Anthony. What’s your point?”

  “Being the child of an Oligarch isn’t easy. There are certain expectations. It’s even worse when you’re youngest and your siblings are given all the training. What’s there left for you?”

  I knew what he was talking about. I thought about it all the time, bitterly and angrily. I didn’t hold it against my oldest siblings though, only hated my circumstances and despised my father for enforcing it.

  “I don’t know what this has to do with Maeve.”

  “All you ever did was exist. You had no power. You had no agency. You were allowed to attend Blackwoods because it didn’t matter either way, and I suspect your parents didn’t care enough to stop you. Your future was always decided. You weren’t a threat.”

  I looked down at my hands then forced myself to smile. “You aren’t pulling any punches here, you know.”

  “I know, but I need you to understand. Maeve knows all this. She was well aware that you were nothing to her, and she wanted to murder you anyway. She wanted to take your life purely because it would hurt your family. You were never important to her.”

  I sucked
in a breath and let it out. “Is that supposed to piss me off?”

  “Yes, Penny. It is.”

  “It doesn’t.” I stood and walked across the room. I was sick of all this fighting and bloodshed. I was tired of acting like I cared about the Servant family name, like being an Oligarch mattered at all.

  I wanted freedom. I didn’t care about the rest.

  “It should,” he said, his tone fierce. “It drives me. I can’t stop thinking about it. Maeve knew you weren’t a threat and planned on killing you anyway. It’s sick and ruthless. I care about you, and I won’t let anyone think you’re disposable.”

  “So you’ll get yourself killed and tear my family to pieces in the process?” I threw my hands up, frustration spilling out. “If you stopped this now, Erin wouldn’t keep trying to ruin everything.”

  “Erin’s going to follow her own path whether you want her to or not. Maeve is a convenient excuse.”

  I clenched my jaw. I knew he was right. I ran my fingers down the marble countertop and wanted to slam my fist against it.

  “Is your revenge really worth it?”

  “Yes, it is. I’m doing this for you, Penny, and for all the other third and fourth and fifth children that were ignored, neglected, and abused. They should’ve had someone willing to burn the world for them. Instead, you have me.”

  I stared into his eyes. He didn’t know a thing about being a fourth child. He was the oldest, the center of the Baskin world. I knew being the heir to an Oligarch family came with expectations and problems and abuses, but at least he was important.

  He mattered. He didn’t have autonomy, but he had power. He stood to inherit so much wealth, it was hard to imagine it all.

  While I was given nothing. Not a single chance.

  I wanted more, but killing Maeve wouldn’t fix anything.

  “There can be some other way.”

  “There isn’t.” He came to me, stalking like a panther. “We didn’t get Maeve today, but we caught one of men. I planned on speaking to him, but I wonder if you should come with me.”

  I stared at him, mouth open. “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not. I think you should hear what he has to say.”

  “You want to take me to an interrogation. You’re going to torture the guy.”

  “I might not have to. Redmond’s likely done a lot of the work already, if I’m honest.”

  “What would I possibly learn?”

  He stopped a foot away from me. I yearned for him to close the gap.

  “You’ll learn just how rotten this whole world can be. You’ll see what Maeve really is. All I ask is that you listen.”

  I hesitated, looking away.

  I wanted to turn him down. I didn’t want to leave the safety of this hotel room.

  But Kaspar was the life vest keeping me from drowning.

  He was the only person that ever gave a damn about me.

  Even Alice was a traitor.

  Livvie loved me, but Livvie was gone. She left me all alone.

  Darren cared, but not as much as he cared about the family.

  Anthony—well, Anthony was complicated. He had a hard life.

  There was only Kaspar.

  And if he wanted me to come to this interrogation, then I’d do it.

  “All right. I’ll go.”

  “Good.” He touched my cheek then kissed me gently. “It’ll be hard, but be strong.”

  I got changed into jeans and a dark shirt then followed him and his men outside. They drove in a caravan of black SUVs through the center of the city. Chicago was quiet, like half the population had fled the Oligarch war, like they knew what was happening in the shadows.

  We drove past a building that had been torn to pieces and burned.

  Maybe it wasn’t all in the dark.

  “Not far,” Kaspar commented, and that was when the truck rammed into the side of the car in front of ours.

  The two vehicles careened sideways. I gasped in shock as the driver of our SUV slammed on the brakes. Kaspar slammed his hand into my chest to hold me back as we skidded to a stop. Glass and metal screamed along the street.

  For the length of two gasping breaths, there was a deep, bold quiet. It fell like a mid-winter snow.

  Then more trucks appeared and men spilled out of them.

  Kaspar kicked his door open, unbuckled my seatbelt, and pulled me out of the SUV. His men followed, using the cars as cover as the hard-looking soldiers that piled out of the trucks began to open fire with long rifles. The sound was unbelievable, louder than fireworks, more intense than a rock concert.

  Kaspar shoved me behind him then pulled a gun from a holster at his chest. He barked orders as his soldiers returned fire.

  It was pure madness.

  There were four trucks. The fifth truck steamed and smoked. Nobody climbed out of it and nobody left the SUV that it had rammed. There were three SUVs left and we were outnumbered and outgunned. The attackers had bigger, more powerful weapons, while Kaspar’s men used pistols and small sub-machine guns.

  I covered my ears and tried not to scream.

  So this was an Oligarch war.

  It was hell. A man standing three feet away, the passenger in our SUV, took a bullet to the throat. He gagged and fell back, dying and choking on his own blood. Kaspar fired relentlessly, pausing only to reload and yell more orders.

  He finally ducked down, cursing. His eyes were hard and there was no panic behind them. I was on the verge of freaking out and collapsing. I could barely think, barely breathe. Kaspar looked completely in control.

  His hands grabbed my arms and he stared into my eyes.

  “You need to run.”

  “Run? Kaspar?”

  “You need to go.” He pointed over my shoulder, down a nearby side street. “Head that way and don’t stop no matter what.”

  “You’re coming.”

  “I can’t leave my men.” He looked pained, like this was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “Run, Penny. I’ll hold them off.”

  “But—”

  “Go,” he barked, and pushed me.

  I ran. I didn’t think. I obeyed his orders like he wanted. I sprinted, keeping my head low, tearing down the sidewalk. Bullets skittered all around me, broke a window a few feet over my head, and pinged off the taillight of a parked car. I screamed and kept going, heart pumping madly, adrenaline lighting my veins on fire. I felt strong and terrified, and all of this was impossible, but I turned down the block and kept going.

  It was a quiet residential street. Nobody sat on their stoops. I wondered how many of them would call the police.

  I kept going. The sound of gunfire dimmed, but didn’t recede. It intensified, almost doubled. I heard more cars, then sirens in the distance.

  The Oligarchs were powerful. They ran mafia families from the shadows and funded illicit activities for fun and profit. Oligarchs were deeply connected and universally feared.

  But I had no clue what the cops would do to Kaspar.

  Maeve likely owned the Chicago Police. If they caught him, Kaspar would be able to get out sooner or later—but Maeve would make sure a convenient accident ended his life before that happened. She’d have much more sway than him, and there’d be nothing he could do.

  Locked in a cage. Dead the way I lived.

  I slowed down.

  I couldn’t let that happen to him. I turned, preparing myself to go back. I was gasping for air and wished I’d exercised more, but there was nothing I could do about that now. I had to go back to him. I had to make sure they didn’t catch the only person that gave a damn about me in this whole world.

  But before I could, the bark of a nearby motorcycle caught my attention.

  It screamed down the street, going the wrong way.

  The body was white with red highlights. A single person rode, leaning low over the handlebars. They reached for something and a gun appeared in their hand. I dove down as the biker opened fire, barely managing to avoid getting shot in the chest
.

  The biker hit their brakes and turned around for another pass.

  I scrambled to get away. I kept the parked cars between me and my attacker. I didn’t know who they were, but they seemed intent on killing me—like they knew I’d be out here. It wasn’t Darren’s people then. He wouldn’t want to hurt me.

  This bastard must be from Maeve.

  I didn’t know why I was being targeted. Maybe she knew I was the reason for all this, or maybe I was just convenient. They could’ve been watching the hotel and sent this attack when they spotted me get in the SUV with Kaspar.

  It didn’t matter. I ducked down as the rider made another pass, firing bullets into the blue sedan I hid behind. Some poor idiot was going to find their car full of holes.

  I sprinted back the way I’d come. The bike turned around and fired, but missed. I screamed, stumbled, nearly face-planted on the curb. I turned my ankle trying to get up and groaned with surprise and pain. The bike was coming again, getting closer and closer. I turned to watch them ride me down, the reaper riding a pale horse, and the rider’s name was death—

  Two shots rang out. Red bloomed on the rider’s chest. They swerved then smashed into a parked car and fell into the street.

  I looked over my shoulder. Kaspar stood there, clutching his arm, grimacing.

  I ran and kissed him.

  He kissed me back, but pushed me away, wincing. I touched his bleeding arm, but it wasn’t bad. His old wound opened again.

  “I’ll be fine. Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay. What’s happening back there?”

  “Cops are coming. My men are scattering. We’ll meet up with Redmond’s soldiers and deal with Maeve.”

  That answered my other question then. It wasn’t Darren coming to save me. It was Maeve coming to kill me.

  I kissed Kaspar again.

  “You saved my life.”

  “And I’ll keep on doing it if I have to. Now come on, let’s get moving.” He tugged me along, staggering a bit.

 

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