Cash: A Dark Romance (Saint and Sinners Book 2)

by Ruby Vincent

  “Decades, Chef.”

  “Decades!” he carried on. “I couldn’t wait for you while you lay around in bed. I’ve moved on. Hired a new sous chef that’s worthless!”

  Ryan whipped around on a hapless man carrying a bowl of ingredients.

  “Useless,” Ryan flung. “A disgrace.”

  “Yes, Chef,” the man agreed.

  “He isn’t worth half of you.” Sinclair strode into the walk-in, expecting me to follow. “Refuses to stay past eleven at night. Constantly brings me subpar ingredients. When are you coming back?”

  I blinked. “Do you want me back?”

  “Didn’t I just say I can’t work with that idiot? You have to come back.” Ryan grabbed a head of broccoli and gave it to me. “You’ll claim your previous position. Salvatore will agree to a pay raise of five dollars an hour.”

  “That’s really generous, Chef.”

  Two zucchinis and three carrots were placed on my pile. Ryan topped me off with cauliflower and walked out again.

  “But I didn’t come to get my job back,” I called, staying on his heels. “My doctor says I have to take it easy for the next few months.”

  He frowned. “Then why are you here?”

  “I hate the way I left you hanging. Before my accident, we talked about me working with you on private catering jobs.”

  He set my load on his station, still giving me a strange look.

  “I learned so much from working with you, Chef. I’d like to continue doing so. If another wedding or charity event comes up, I’ll make myself available.”

  “Hmpf. Well, you are the only chef I’ve trained myself. The one person I could rely on until two months ago.”

  I weathered the sting.

  A part of me burst to say I was held captive by four sinfully hot gangbangers, but that wouldn’t have helped matters. Pleading coma barely did.

  My love and devotion to this job were real. I couldn’t endure the hell Ryan Sinclair put me through if it wasn’t. Like I told Sinjin, this is how I do good. In a sea of deliciously dark deeds, there was a little island home to a young girl who used to bake treats to take on her outings with her dad. As long as that island remained, the Adeline Redgrave I used to be wasn’t completely washed away.

  “Alright,” he said. “As long as you’ve kept your skills sharp, I’ll let you work the Rothchild-Lysandro wedding coming up. We’ll see how you do today.”

  “Today?”

  “Get a move on, Adeline. There’s a spare coat and pants in my office.”

  “I—”

  “Or do you have better things to do?”

  “No, Chef. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

  “Three,” he barked. “Start chopping these for the cauliflower Bolognese. Two orders. Then, slice radishes for...”

  My day veered off track and remained in the kitchen till after the dinner rush.

  My side ached something fierce. I didn’t let it show. Ryan was hunting for a sniff of weakness. Any sign of it and my future as his protégé was over.

  I sent the last order out and ducked into the fridge. Frigid air cooled my heated cheeks, bringing me down from the rush of excitement that was the kitchen. My feet killed. My back hurt. My hair was a mess, and I desperately wanted to curl into a hot bath with Sinjin and have him rub me all over. But damn if I hadn’t put some grudging respect on Ryan’s face.

  He won’t be the only man forced to acknowledge my skill tonight.

  “Addy?” Stevie stuck her head in the fridge. “Are you staying for family dinner?”

  “Can’t. I’m supposed to meet a friend. Hey, what was that club you warned me about a while ago? Optimum?”

  “Opium,” she said. “That’s not where you’re meeting your friend, are you? Addy, you can’t. It’s dangerous.”

  “Bangers?”

  “It’s their favorite place.” Closing the door, she dropped her voice though it was just us. “We’re both out of Rockchapel now. You, me, and our families. Far as I see, there’s no reason either one of us should ever go back. It’s only gotten worse since we left.”

  “You’re right. I’ll tell my friend we’ll meet somewhere else.”

  “Good,” she replied, relaxing. “I know you have to go, but stay and have something with us really quick. We haven’t seen you for weeks.”

  I gave in, joining my old crew to eat and trade stories about what we missed. At nine, I headed out pleading I had to catch my bus.

  “We’ll talk about the wedding, Adeline,” Ryan said. “Good job today.”

  “Thank you, Chef.”

  I raced out, darting to the bus stop.

  CASH

  Redgrave slipped inside the car.

  I restarted the engine, easing into traffic. I was no closer to understanding what she was doing. First the meeting with the old man. Then the hour I sat outside her restaurant before finally going inside and spotting her rushing around the kitchen in a chef’s uniform.

  Why would she take up her old job? She was sitting on thousands in cash. Four days of not cooking and cleaning for us and she was already tapped out? What the hell did she spend it on?

  My confusion further compounded by her returning to the best friend’s place and walking out forty-five minutes later in a tight black dress and heels. Cross’s boyfriend arrived while she was inside. She drove off in his car, leaving me to follow.

  What the hell are you up to, Redgrave?

  ADELINE

  “When will you be back?” Raul’s mouth was stuffed with my homemade ravioli. “I need the hmm huh uh.”

  “What?”

  Raul was, in a word, a mess. In another word, he was gorgeous. We weren’t talking the regular kind of gorgeous that ended up a girl’s boy-next-door crush. I meant the only-seen-in-magazines gorgeous.

  Tousled black curls skimmed the lashes framing his moss-green eyes. He had a long face, strong jaw, trim beard, and these full, silky lips that put the “ooh” in your “ooh-la-la” whenever he smiled.

  The man looked like a model, so it was fitting that he was one. Too bad he was even more of a diva than Gianna, almost no one wanted to work with him, and he rarely booked jobs.

  “I need it back by eleven or I’m sleeping in my own fucking bed,” he stated.

  Gianna shoved his shoulder. “Stop it, Raul. She’s made us enough food to feed us for three weeks. You can let her use your car for one night.”

  He grunted something, curling a hand around her waist. Raul buried his face in her chest. “Haven’t you missed me, baby?”

  She nipped his nose. “Give me a reason to miss you.”

  “I’ll give that pussy a reason.”

  “Still in the room,” I deadpanned. “Standing right here.”

  Gianna giggled. “Why are you dipping out in the middle of the night anyway? You were wrecked when you came in here. Clutching your side, though I bet you didn’t think I noticed.”

  “Ryan made me work the dinner shift.”

  “How are you that man’s bitch again?”

  “Sous chef,” I corrected. “Remarkably close to bitch, but not quite.”

  “Seriously, Adeline. Go to bed.”

  Raul winked. “After we’re done with it.”

  “I can’t. The Blood Brothers have been acting up since my love forced a change in leadership. I can’t help but feel partially responsible. I’m dropping in on Ivan for a chat.”

  He dropped his smirk. “You need him taken out? I can handle that, Addy. Been too long if I’m honest.”

  It’s amazing how the right people find each other. I found the Merchants. Gianna found Cinco’s top drug dealer for the model, actor, and society elite. Raul could afford to bail on every job he got since his extra-curricular activities kept him flush—in between pissing it away on crap he didn’t need.

  “Thanks, but this one is going to require some finesse. I’ll be back as soon as he’s dead. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  They were making out before the do
or closed.

  I hopped in Raul’s outrageously expensive car and made the ride deep into Rockchapel. If I didn’t find Ivan in the club, the Lambo would draw him and his band of car thieves out like bees to honey.

  My drive was short. Gianna’s apartment sat square on the Rockchapel-Waterford border. I once asked her if she didn’t move farther away because she wanted to stick close to me. She kissed my forehead and said not to let that big head sink me. That was Gianna-speak for yes.

  The girl always has my back. Support that would be invaluable tonight.

  But this mess is mine. It’s my job to clean it up.

  I pulled up to the curb across from Opium.

  Rockchapel nightclubs weren’t so much clubs as they were dive bars that played their music too loud. You could dance between the pool tables and rickety furniture, but mostly you were there to get drunk.

  Opium bucked the stereotype. A line to rival the best of Harlow’s club street stretched to the beauty parlor four doors down. Two bouncers posted up at the entrance. Flashing lights and club music poured out with each scantily clad twentysomething they let in.

  I was fairly certain Opium did not look like this when Stevie warned me off years ago. Someone with money came in and gave the place an upgrade.

  They upgraded a known banger hideout and did nothing about the fact they kept coming back? Curious.

  Angling the mirror, I gazed into those infamous brown eyes as I tied my hair into a bun and perched fake glasses on my nose. Final touch, smearing on pale purple lipstick. A simple disguise that did the trick better than assumed.

  Hair up, glasses on, and covered in makeup, Adeline Redgrave became her bookish fraternal twin.

  I climbed out, bypassed the line, and flashed a smile at the bouncers. Gianna’s black lattice dress cut all the right lines around my figure.

  “Go right in, darling.” The flashing lights welcomed me. “Have fun.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  CASH

  Redgrave emerged from the car.

  “What the fuck?”

  Adeline didn’t wear glasses. Twenty-twenty vision let her cook and watch the living room television, switching off the news saying I wasn’t paying attention to it if I was on my computer. She also hated wearing her hair up. Why do so when she could slip over the back of my chair, cloaking us both in a jasmine-scented rain of strangely reddish locks? Her heat soaking into me as she asked what I was working on.

  Disguise, my mind supplied in the split second of seeing her. But why?

  I shoved out, striding across the street. She was in before I reached the bouncers.

  “Hold up, mate.” They fell in shoulder to shoulder—blocking the door. “Back of the line.”

  “I’m with the nineteen-year-old girl you just let in without carding. Older brother.” The matching menacing looks slipped. “Move aside and I’ll get her out of here without a fuss. If not, the cops get a tip the owner of Opium likes to get teenage girls drunk in the back room and film them taking their clothes off.”

  “Alright, mate,” Bouncer One cried. “Easy. We didn’t know the girl was nineteen. Go on.”

  They stood aside. I pressed in the crush of bodies, searching for the sneaking bunny.

  ADELINE

  Long hair. Thick beard. Wears a big gold watch. Bandana hanging from his hip.

  Captain’s description was spot-on. Lounging in the VIP area with two women under his arm was Ivan Stallard. The gold watch glinted between the woman’s breasts. His full, impressive beard fell prey to the other woman’s stroking. I couldn’t see what hung from his hip, but the bandanas sported by the guys talking, loitering, or dancing around him gave me a hint.

  I could still see the ghost of dive bars past. The bar top was a long, wooden thing lined with leather stools. The floors were checkered tile and the back wall boasted exposed brick. The biggest transformation was the blue leather couches lining the walls, and the tables loaded down with alcohol and a candle atop. It all left room for the dance floor—complete with wriggling, grinding bodies.

  I leaned against the bar, sipping my ginger ale. Sweeping lights lit me green, orange, purple, and yellow in a dizzying array. Everyone on the floor seemed to be dancing with each other at the same time, and bumping into me while doing it.

  It was loud, messy, packed, and perfect. I’d be in and out, and Ivan would be dead. No one would suspect a thing.

  Just have to wait for his groupies to—

  The women stood up. Wining and grinding, they tried tugging him along. He broke free of their grip, shooing them away. The two scuttled off to dance, cueing my signal to go.

  Ivan didn’t clock my approach until I grabbed the velvet rope. Boldly, I lifted it and stepped onto the platform.

  “Hey.”

  Furrows formed around his eyes. Up close, I observed his flat, smooshed nose and protruding brow ridge. He spread out on the couch like he owned it. An entire booth with more than enough room for the men posted around him like decoration. A king determined to stand out among the serfs.

  Ivan looked me up and down—equal parts attraction and suspicion played on his face. “What can I do for you? I don’t dance, but you’re welcome to give me a show.”

  I shrugged. “I just wanted a look at the guy they say can’t hold his liquor.”

  “What?”

  “Two shots and you’re on the floor.”

  He jumped up. “Who the fuck said that?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said, grin curling into my cheeks. “Because you’re about to prove them wrong. Let’s see you drink this girl under the table.”

  I shoved him on the lounge, stretching next to him. The smirk was back on his face.

  “I took a guy for five hundred the other night,” I said. “But this time we can wager your pride.”

  “My pride’s not on the line, baby.” He slinked an arm around my hip. “But I’ll bet your”—Ivan squeezed my ass—“pride.”

  “Fine by me.” I shifted to knock his hand off. “The real stuff. Vodka. Whoever’s still standing goes home with their prize?”

  Ivan pulled a guy down by the collar. “Sixteen shots of vodka. Go.”

  The Blood Brother scurried off to comply.

  I stroked my purse, grinning as he returned with a tray. This is almost too—

  A flash of golden hair peeked through the crowd. Brow crumpling, I rose up, searching the person in the chaos.

  Was that...?

  “Looking for your boyfriend?” Ivan tugged me down. “He’ll have to get in line.”

  He picked up two shots, passing one to me. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers.”

  We clinked.

  CASH

  The hilt dug grooves in my palm. I grabbed the gun hidden inside my coat when the oily, smashed-faced shit touched her ass, and the urge to use it grew with every laugh, shot, and accidental brush.

  The air bent around them—hazy through the heat of my rage. I wanted to know what Redgrave was hiding, and I got my answer.

  So this was what the disguise was for. Redgrave hit up her old neighborhood to get with some guy, thinking it’d never get back to us?

  He dropped his head on her chest, howling. I popped the strap.

  Name unknown. Approximately fix feet and two hundred pounds. Gang affiliation: Blood Brothers. Weapons: Likely.

  Death: Certainty.

  ADELINE

  “Too much for you?” I slurred.

  Ivan thrust a shot at me, spilling half the contents on my lap. “I’m just getting started. Don’t know where the hell they got this vodka? Might as well be water.” He said that, though he blinked one eyelid at a time—swaying slightly in his seat. “Another.”

  We picked up our glasses. Throwing my head back, I tipped the whole thing down the side of my mouth, spilling down my neck. My entire back was soaked by this point.

  “Whoo,” I cried. “Water for sure. Let’s get another tray.”

  “Damn, girl. You’re hardcore.”
Ivan grabbed my knee. “I like that in a woman.”

  I crossed my legs, knocking him off. “But it’s all about what I like in a man.” I skated my fingers down his arm. “I like ’em dark. Dangerous. A bad boy in every sense of the word. A man who takes what’s his through pain and blood.”

  I licked my purple lips. “Know any men like that?”

  “You’re looking at a man like that. I run this borough from Annie’s Grocers on the high street to the Waterford tunnel. It’s all Blood Brother territory.”

  Do the Kravets, Flaming Hogs, and Locos know that?

  “They’re my gang, and this is my city.”

  “The Blood Brothers?” I shouted over the noise, drawing back. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I said I want a real man. A brutal, ruthless son of a bitch that would make an example of a bastard in this very club with everyone watching. The Blood Brothers are small time. All they do is jack a few worthless cars.”

  “That’s what we used to do,” he growled. “Ronin was weak. He held us back. The one thing he did right was get his fucking throat slit.” He thumped his chest, shot and all, spilling it on his shirt. “I’m in charge now. The Blood Brothers will become the most feared name in this city.”

  “More feared than the Merchants?”

  He barked a laugh. “Those pussies? Fuck, yeah. They’re terrified of a little blood. Never killed on a job. Not me.” Ivan’s smile was nasty. “I’ve got no problem cutting down someone in my way.”

  “You killed?” I leaned back, slipping my hand between my legs. His pants tented for what he thought I was doing. “Who?”

  “Just last week I wasted some old couple and made off with the family jewels. You should’ve heard that leathery bitch screaming when I shot her husband. Now that would’ve gotten you off.”

  I smiled. “That’s all I needed to know.”

  I made him take another shot. Then another.

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” I announced. “If you’re my real man, you’ll know what to do next.”