by Xavier Neal
Chantal slightly leans around my frame and heavily sighs, “Oh, good. We have a full audience.”
“Master Bennett,” Walter politely speaks, prompting me to turn around and see my fiancée isn’t exaggerating. “The staff are in place, and the guests are in the grand dining room ready to be seated. Mr. and Mrs. Ricci are entertaining them over glasses of wine. Mrs. Tritelli is in their presence. Mr. Tritelli is not.”
“He’s with security,” Dario notifies next. “He is in place for the alternative measures. As for the remaining safety protocols, they are in place. Cerise and Sherrod have arrived and been briefed. Everything is set.”
I cut my gaze to Miko who is leaning against the door frame. “Everything?”
My best friend flashes me a crooked grin. “Your request is in my pocket.”
“That sounds kinkier than it should,” Chantal casually comments.
Her interjection receives a glower from me and a snicker from the others.
Instead of scolding her, I lift my thumb up to her lips to wipe away a smear. “Correggi il tuo rossetto.”
Fix your lipstick.
“Wouldn’t have to fix it if someone could keep his tongue to himself.”
Another glare is given at the same time I declare, “Per questo, te lo farò supplicare stasera.”
For that, I'll make you beg me for it tonight.
Chantal’s gaze surges with heat that she poorly hides by grabbing the object she needs to reapply.
Once her lips have been recoated, the five of us head to the special occasions room of the estate. I can count the number of times I remember my father hosting guests in it. The space isn’t meant for warm gatherings or traditional family moments.
It serves a very specific purpose.
To showcase the modern royalty we are.
To demonstrate how powerful the Bennett name truly is.
As soon as we reach the area, Walter opens the set of thick, wooden doors, steps inside, and announces, “The heads of the household have arrived.”
I bend my arm for the taking and Chantal immediately curls her fingers around it. Together, we enter the room with our heads held high. Our grins polite. Intent centered.
“Presenting Master Bennett,” Walter motions his hand in my direction, “and the future Mrs. Bennett.”
The five families focus all of their attention on us. While they were allowed to bring their wives or mistresses – that call was theirs to make – they were advised not to bring their sons and required to bring the daughters they originally sent to compete for my affections. Miko phrased it in such a way that made them feel as though they would be receiving an apology for my unpredicted change in courting behavior. He also insisted that any questions regarding the increase in percentages taken from them would only be explained over dinner, just in case they considered declining my invitation.
I present Walter with a single nod, which he returns. Afterwards, he exits and Dario stations himself at the only known entry and exit point. There’s a hidden servants’ door in the corner that’s being covertly guarded by my stepfather, but I highly doubt anyone will try to search for it.
“Sit,” I politely instruct prior to Chantal and I strolling over to the long, golden table that is set for our eventual meal. They find their places while I take the head seat. My fiancée remains standing, presence looming over one shoulder, and my second takes a matching stance behind the other. During their settling, I steal a glance at my mother who is standing at Antonio’s side. She offers me a wink and tip of her champagne-filled glass. The gesture isn’t extravagant, yet it’s a significant degree of meaningful.
She acknowledges I am head of this family.
I am my father’s son.
I am a fucking Bennett.
It is, once again, time to leave my mark.
“Thank you all for gathering here for dinner.” Stares are delivered to the sets of eyes watching. “Traditionally, engagement parties are exorbitant events that are just as ostentatious as the wedding itself.”
Small chortles are expelled behind half empty glasses.
“However, I have chosen a more intimate approach to celebrate the ending of my courtship.”
It’s impossible not to notice the daughters struggling to maintain their fake smiles.
“The change in custom seems fitting for the situation.” My gaze lifts to Chantal’s. “Do you agree, Mia Bella?”
Her beam is bright. Calculated. “I do.”
Seeing her play her role so well has my dick threatening to stir, once more, at the wrong time. I quickly divert my attention back to them to prevent the action from occurring and insist, “Let me make formal introductions.” There’s a small wave of my hand to the right. “The Kinnamans.”
They all wave, and Ember does her best not to gawk at Chantal.
Friendliest family with the least intelligent children.
Ember’s twin, Echo, isn’t much brighter than her.
At least he was wise enough not to participate in the threatening and taking of my fiancée.
I repeat the action to the family beside them. “The Ackers.”
They lift their glasses politely in a silent greeting.
Prestigious.
Groomed.
The type who understands the rules of a game and follows them loyally.
One more gesture on their side of the table is made. “The Piersons.”
While the Don and his wife nod cordially to our direction, their daughter avoids eye contact altogether from what I imagine to be guilt.
At the opposite end of the table is an open space for Mamma, Antonio, Aunt Felia, and Uncle Gianozzo as well as Cerise and Sherrod. I skip over the gap and continue my gesturing, “The DuPontes.”
A family who prides themselves strongly on their French heritage.
“And, lastly, the Lamarches.”
Also, French.
Also, overly prideful.
Key difference being they possess more power than the DuPontes.
That, and, of course, the fact it was their daughter who orchestrated what she hoped would be my fiancée’s demise.
I believe that was her ultimate goal.
It’s easy to see the empathy missing in her cold, crystal stare.
It’s even easier to understand that, given a different set of circumstances, she would be fit for the man that I was before Chantal cut her way into my soul and changed my existence for what I believe is the better.
My future wife graciously states, “It’s an honor to formally make your acquaintances.”
There’s no need for clarification among them regarding her choice of words.
The last time they met they mocked and cackled at her like witches waiting for their cauldrons to boil over.
I hope she takes the opportunity to do the same to them today.
“Now that introductions have been made, the first course may be presented to you.”
The lingering staff struts from where they’re waiting along the walls and places covered dishes in front of the males. Confusion cloaks everyone’s face yet is only amplified once they each remove the lid to reveal a steak knife.
“Gentlemen, your daughters arranged an…intervention – if you will – regarding my choice of a mate. I am under the impression this was done without your blessings; however, if I am wrong, please, take the moment to correct me.”
Corentin DuPonte immediately objects, “They would never-”
“I said to correct me in reference to whether or not they had your blessing, not whether or not it was done,” I viciously bite. “Given your baffled reaction aside the rest of the table’s, I presume our conclusion in deducing it was executed without the permission of a Don is accurate.”
Uncomfortable shifts are made by all the daughters, except one.
“Your daughters orchestrated and partook in a series of death threats and physical intimidation tactics as well as the taking and selling of my fiancée.”
“What!?”
is barked from each male at different intervals.
“Physical proof will be provided for each of you to peruse upon the serving of dessert. We’ll be having lemon and blackberry mini tarts. Mia Bella has an odd aversion to all things apple.”
The tiniest chastising tap is given to the leg of my chair.
“While the initial actions resulted in hours of headaches that could’ve simply been soothed by your financial discomfort, the retrieval process of my pregnant significant other cost us a small fortune. The numbers were run and divided equally among the five of you, ensuring that no one family paid the cost that was created collectively.”
Indignation pierces their expressions as they oscillate between gawking at me and gaping at their daughters.
“Compensation for that has already been settled, gentlemen.” A villainous grin grows on my expression. “After all, I have a wedding to pay for. Waiting to transfer those funds was not something I deemed imperative, considering your daughters did not wait for your permission to execute the actions they labeled necessary.”
Head shakes are delivered to the ceiling.
The table.
Their offspring.
“There were additional damages that occurred. Ones that were not so easy to calculate.” My body shifts in the chair to cross my leg and lean to one side. “Lives lost that had no business being sacrificed. Other lives indebted directly to the Syndicate.” I fold my fingers tightly together and allow my glower to deepen. “Currency in the form of blood is much more difficult to properly place a value on; therefore, I have increased your fees to me by 6.25%.”
Another uproar rips through the table.
“Once more, this was a result of a group’s actions. It is only fair that every member of the group be accounted for when making an appropriate appraisal. One percent per individual since they each had a different crucial finger in the aforementioned plan. And, then, an additional point twenty-five percent per conspirator to cover the accounting costs that I have expelled in this bothersome process.”
I give Chantal a mischievous glance that she battles herself not to return.
There’s no need to inform them of who that person is or that that particular funding will be put into a personal account for my wife to spoil herself and only herself with.
What’s mine is hers, of course, but I know my Mia Bella.
It will give her comfort to know she has control of some part of her finances in spite of the majority being tied directly to mine.
When my attention relocates back to the murmuring table, I finally explain the weaponry in front them, “Gentlemen, your monetary pains will pass, much like my own did. Your…fiscal debts to me have been settled. What remains are the physical ones.” The coldness that covers my expression causes chills to noticeably run up their spines. “Due to your daughters’ unwise decisions, other women and…men,” it’s hard to continue through the seething, “touched the woman that is to not only bear my last name but also my child.”
Hard lines are formed on the Dons’ faces as they begin to predict what’s coming next.
“No amount of capital could ever be collected to render the debt accrued by committing a sin of that severity.” Harshness intensifies in my tone. “To…reestablish the order, the balance, and appease the beast that you should be considering yourselves fortunate isn’t asking for all of your flesh, so much as only a pound, you will provide that exact amount to me here. And, now.”
Miko gestures to one of the servants who brings over a black digital meat scale and places it directly in front of me.
“It does not matter to me if the flesh comes from you or your wives or your daughters. The only thing that is important is that each family sacrifices one pound to please the apex predator you pissed off.” My head tilts condescendingly to one side. “And, because I am in a kinder mood than I should be – you may all thank my beautiful fiancée for effortlessly changing my demeanor – I will save you the amount of energy you’re preparing to expel regarding escape plans, security rescues, medical assistance, and possible plans of revenge regarding my actions here today.”
Silences slips between them again.
“This room, as you are aware, has one entrance and exit, which is currently being guarded by a member of my team. Thoughts of ambush may arise under the rightful impression that he can’t take you all on at once; however, he can handle most of you. My second would assist in what he cannot, along with my stepfather,” I gesture a hand to Antonio while maintaining eye contact, “who many of you have had the first hand privilege of witnessing shed blood for my father – may he rest in peace.”
Worry flutters their stares.
“If, for some reason, you managed to make it past the three of them, and myself, there are members of security waiting just on the other side to handle that. As for the men you came with well, they’re currently…subdued.” Another wicked smile slithers into place. “Most were unable to resist a pretty face offering them what they believed to be an innocent mint, and the few that could, were rendered immobile by a simple prick occurring in a handshake they were informed not to refuse.”
Cerise and Sherrod doing their parts to assist in the evening.
“Each member of the household staff currently occupying this room with us has some degree of medical training. They are equipped and prepared to bandage the wounds accordingly. If you somehow manage to seriously fuck up in the process, nicking something not easy to patch, Shay Santiago – the member of the Syndicate who has given me her blessing of the actions I have implemented and am currently implementing – has provided two doctors that specialize in tending to trauma of the extensive degree. The two of them are waiting in the wings, but you may want to note, the individual with the laceration is not permitted to leave until their family pound has been paid, no matter its severity.”
Sending the doctors and the additional members of security from her own team to prowl the perimeters came at no extra charge.
She considers it part of the restoring process.
She also sent Miko a set of luggage to remind us all that his days are, literally, numbered.
“You are all aware the blessing from a single member of the Syndicate is a blessing from every member of the Syndicate, and going against said blessing is going against all of them.”
Bodies nervously adjust around in their seats giving me more reasons to smirk.
“Perhaps, you gentlemen entertained the idea of following in your daughters’ footsteps and conspiring together to overthrow or dethrone me, which wouldn’t work. I went to war for my mate and willingly created carnage of unprecedented levels. People have been carved. Detectives who asked too many of the wrong questions have abruptly resigned from the force and decided to leave the country. Fishermen have been hung by their own lines when I did not care for their answers. These things were done when the love of my life was simply missing, do you imagine I would do anything less to protect the life I have built for me, for her, and for my entire fucking family? And, to have her at my side during such an epic event – the only place she should be – would only further guarantee a victory, gentlemen. But,” I lift a casual hand, “for the sake of discussion, if for some reason your efforts were victorious, the Syndicate would finish off who and what remained, destroy your bloodlines as far as they could trace them, and rewrite history so that you only ever existed in memories.” The corner of my lip tugs higher upward. “Assuming they wouldn’t wipe out everyone who kept you alive in that form.” Panic noticeably pierces most gazes, prompting me to motion a finger towards my fiancée. “If anyone doesn’t have the stomach to remove flesh from themselves or a member of their dinner party, my lovely Mia Bella is happy to lend a hand.”
Chantal politely states, “It would be an honor.”
Miko places the requested item on the table beside the scale. I carefully remove the knife she picked out in Switzerland and rest it on top of its sheath.
The tool used in sealing us together for the
first time will be the one used to cement us together for forever.
Our eyes briefly meet, and seeing undeniable ardor, passion, and devotion swarming in her gaze lets me know everything that was done in her name…for her…was worth it.
That if this hunt is ever reversed, and it is me that is wrongfully ripped from her arms, my lioness will not rest until I am returned.
Until the broken laws of the jungle have been corrected.
I smile in the comfort of knowing there’s no reason to ever question where one another’s love or loyalty lies.
It has been proven in the most primitive ways, and given what I’m witnessing grow in her gaze, it is about to be reiterated in the same fashion.
For a brief moment, the entire room is completely still.
A single word isn’t uttered.
Muscles don’t actively move an inch.
Stares stay stuck and unhinged jaws glued.
The tension at the table is stacked higher and higher until it, inevitably, topples over into someone’s lap.
That someone happens to be Ember, the very person we predicted would crack first. “It wasn’t my idea!”
My eyes cut to where she’s frantically shaking her head.
“Of course, it wasn’t your fucking idea. You can’t even spell the word coup. There’s no way you could ever organize one,” Gemma Lamarche hisses from across the table.
“You could,” I casually state, immediately receiving her gaze. “And, you did.”
“You’re accusing my daughter of leading this…catastrophe?” Jaq viciously chomps at me. “That’s preposterous!”
“It isn’t,” Gemma shockingly counters. Once our eyes are settled on her, she tips her head higher causing her dark brown, straight hair to bounce on her shoulder. “I’m the only one at this table capable of such a thing.”
“You are not,” Josephine Pierson immediately scoffs. “It was my idea to have someone following her for a week so that she would get all freaked out and cancel going on that fucking trip with him.”
“Yet, she didn’t,” Gemma snaps without hesitation. “She fucking went anyway.”
“Okay, yeah, that didn’t work like I assumed it would, but it was still my idea to keep having her followed after that so we’d have all the information possible and to have her run off the road, which had her scared shitless like we wanted.”
