A Dark Place (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 5)

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  “I figured as much,” I concede with a lift of my brow. “I can only return to the point of origin and the pieces which matter.”

  His hands wave once. “Fair enough.”

  I take a deep breath like I am preparing for my final oral dissertation. This counts. This matters. And I cannot fuck it up. “From where I sit, it all starts with Diamond, but it’s going to take a minute to get there, so be patient.”

  “Good place to start,” he praises. “I can go back further, but I’ll accept her as your origin.”

  “When I was courting Kaci, she revealed her terminal cancer diagnosis, but she insisted on taking care of me. She insisted I meet Bertie, and I ended up falling for her. Unfortunately, I was too close to the source—even back then I knew something was up—and Bertie was removed.”

  “You were always a natural, Kid.”

  “Bertie’s removal led to my abduction and training at Sibyl, where Jack Kerris showed up along with Dale Archer. I met Henney and started remembering my torture in the butcher shop.”

  “Nice! Though it was more of an infirmary. You’re beautiful when you’re working problems,” he mutters, gazing as he often does with one eye slightly squinted. “It’s amazing to see. How old were you?”

  “Sixteen,” I whisper, cracking my knuckles. “I woke up in a bed, webbed down with wires and tubes, and glanced at a girl trapped in her lair with eyes I could never forget. Those fucking eyes…they were blue-violet and spoke to me. The white coats didn’t realize the kind of monster they built in me until a year later when I hacked up Eric Henderson with a machete in a shed, and my father sent me away.”

  “Excellent! Keep going!” He closes his eyes, understanding I’ve got it all. “They did the final modifications to Iris during one of your first treatments.”

  “I later learned the girl with the eyes, my future wife, was sent to CAE by Angelo Gennaro and Lydia Kettles, and her name showed up in a file given to me by Chance Ballister in my cell at Sibyl.”

  “Yes,” he acknowledges. “And I killed Chance because of that very reason.”

  “You didn’t want to ever share Iris, but I didn’t know that at the time. I started digging and paid a steep price for it with rape in an alleyway from Saber—Mitch Daniels—because they knew of my history with Bilal Amari.”

  “Yes,” he admits. “They were trying to throw you off of your game.”

  “But before Kaci passed, she instructed me to maintain my focus on Iris Kettles, who I didn’t yet know was the Lotus Queen. She was just a girl. But my entertainment post-Kaci’s-mortem revolved solely around a practice slut named, Amber Rosen, also known as, my mistress.”

  “A stripper named Mae East,” he says with a grin. “A present to the fledgling Dominant, something to welt so he can take out all of the energy—the rage, violence, and anger—giving him an outlet and pushing the addiction.”

  “And it worked,” I confide, smirking. “I loved women and my dick, and I really liked women loving my dick…on all fours with a crop in my hand.”

  “You still do,” he quips. “But I cannot judge.”

  “Because of the arrangement with The original Four Horsemen—Angelo Gennaro, Cesario Raniero, Victor “Saint” Cruz, and Delarte Cristos—Diamond Downs had to be killed because she was pregnant with my child. Saint took it upon himself to hire Enzo Gennaro because your family ousted him. I doubted your intentions then, having the same last name, but I didn’t know your name may as well have been Dom Raniero Cruz Nakamura.”

  “Catchy! I like that,” he comments, offering a snarl. “But you need to remember; no one knew that child was yours. Everyone, including Marcello Campanelli, believed Diamond and Deacon were having a baby, and he was pissed because Deacon and Iris killed his daughter, Krystal. Do not ever forget—Campanelli has a vendetta against you.”

  “The death of Diamond’s and my child pissed Father Quinn off though because a baby should never be murdered, and Saint paid for his sins with his life. The death of Saint Cruz silenced Deacon Cruz. And that is why Diamond is my starting point—Deacon Cruz. All things in the interest of Deacon Cruz.”

  “Bravo!” He claps. “Very good! I hated that they used Bilal Amari against you, but I fostered your sexuality,” he remarks, tightening his jaw. “I was a bad influence. CAE hates me.”

  With a snicker, I grin. “You gave me Deacon Cruz, Saint’s son, to corrupt.” I lift my brows. “But temptation didn’t take much persuasion.”

  “I did because I was angry with the whole thing by that point,” he honestly confides. “I was on board until I knew they were trying to keep the lid on you and limiting your capabilities. Baby Saint was someone you needed.”

  “And you knew that because you needed him too.”

  “Perhaps,” he says. “But not in the exact same way.”

  “No, you needed Deacon to distract from Iris,” I point out, smiling. “But that didn’t fucking work.”

  “It was one piece of the puzzle I hadn’t expected—you juggling both. Please continue.”

  “Lydia Kettles and Angelo Gennaro were involved in a longterm love affair. Whether you and Iris made a verbal agreement or silently had each other’s backs, I don’t know. Still, you hired Mitch to kill her mother, Lydia, and Iris eliminated your father, Angelo.”

  “And let’s not forget, you hate Mitch,” he boasts. “Hardcore. Iris didn’t know I was killing Lydia, but I had some idea she would eventually go after my father. Iris has a definite pattern, a bit like a roller coaster, but still a pattern.”

  “I still hate Mitch because he’s raped my wife and…me,” I sneer. “I will kill him one day, but in hiring Mitch, you knowingly tipped me off.”

  He proudly snarls. “It was supposed to. Jack Kerris pandered to every whim Mitch had because there was strong disagreement about Mitch or Bertie in CAE. Mierne fought for Bertie. Jack fought for Mitch.”

  “Archer went to Nebraska to buy a baby,” I suddenly say. “And I just had the mental flash a few days ago how Pock and Jaid had visited Nebraska.”

  “You were so far off,” he cackles. “You bought two different houses because you were convinced the source was in Nebraska.”

  “And you let me do it!” We laugh. “And I had a whole command center built at Je Suis and The Mean house that I loved. I thought I was going places, but it didn’t get me shit. I didn’t get the Nebraska connection.”

  “… Do you now, son?”

  “Hold up,” I say as he tosses a water bottle to me. I crack it open and take a sip before moving it about as I speak. “So per Angelo’s requirements of your inheritance, you had to stay married for a year. You suck at marriage, though, but even still, you ended up marrying Jaid until I once again believed you were the devil. I told Jaid to divorce your ass.”

  He smirks and nods. “You did.”

  “And you got pissed, selling Gennaro off to Campanelli and leaving the business behind. You cited my need for money to build my outfit despite my having sold off my ass to Dale Archer for a huge chunk of change, which with Condémariella, I never needed in the first place.”

  “It was more than a huge chunk…”

  “The whole ordeal of Jaid and Campanelli silenced Dominic Gennaro.” His expression serves up a conflict of disappointment and joy. “At the same time, Stanis shows up, kills Amber’s father—Jerry “Pock” Allen—and steals a major regional distributor in Rampage MC. The death of her father and losing her club silenced Amber Rosen.”

  “Damn, you went big!”

  “I am never small,” I muse with a wink. “I got balls, and I am letting them swing.”

  “I can see that,” he proudly says. “What will you do then?”

  “Burn them down,” I seethe with passion. “Every fucking one.”

  I take a long drink as he adds, “You know I never planned on any of this.”

  “Oh,” I reply, putting the cap back on the bottle. “I am well aware. You were a pawn as much as any of us were.”

  “
Continue,” he urges, flicking his lighter. I pull out a smoke and lunge towards him. Our eyes meet with mutual respect, and he murmurs, “The most stunning man I’ve ever met…”

  I exhale a hot cloud of nicotine into the air like a dragon warming up his lungs. “In killing Lydia, it put the spotlight on the Lotus, which you wouldn’t stand for—No! No!—anything but the precious flower. You insisted on hiding her and sending my ass to prison. I agreed cause I trusted you.”

  “It was the right thing to do,” he alleges, taking a drag off the smoke. “And you know it now.”

  “After ninety days, I could no longer handle being in a cage, so I took a deal with Cesario, moved to Boston, and played the good son role, sitting by his side at the mafia table. Meanwhile, Jack hired Cinco to rape Trudy Diaz as a warning to Reckless Rebellion and for a home invasion and rape on Zoe Hess, serving like a warning flare to Immortal. Successfully, for a time, hindering both of them. I got engaged to Emily until my wedding was shot up.”

  “Yes.”

  “Which irks my jaw even today,” I hiss. “I learned a hell of a lot during that time, including who to trust. The shooting silenced me. The death of boyhood dreams—believing I could escape the grasp of the mafia—silenced Salvatore Raniero.”

  “So far, you have Deacon, Amber, you, and me—all silenced.” He grins wide. “Boom, baby.”

  “I asked myself what’s going on here cause it’s all fucking connected, and I know it is. Why hasn’t Nicky been silenced? Or Serene? Or Jaid?”

  “Don’t stop now.”

  “I start picking it apart in the spring until Iris and Deacon are brutally attacked by Enzo Gennaro, yet again. A couple of months ago, Aki Nakamura was shot, and again, Enzo Gennaro is to blame. I doubt the validity of you and your connection to Enzo.”

  “He has always been and will always be a problem.”

  “And then I gotta ask—why hasn’t Iris been silenced? They fucking tried time and again—gang rapes, shootings, the girl withstood all of it. But Iris is…Iris, and she is an unabating force.”

  “I’m giving you bonus points for that one,” he announces. “Iris never quits, abandons her post, or loses sight of her focus. If we’re playing for points, she wins, hands down. Maybe I should’ve asked if you were going to kill me.”

  “A Nero cannot kill another Nero.”

  With his intense gaze on my eyes, he snickers, “That doesn’t answer the question, does it?”

  “You brought me here—to Italy,” I accuse, cracking my neck. “To earn immunity for your crimes, so I cannot kill you.”

  “Should I apologize?”

  “You signed on in the very beginning with Kaci...”

  “Before Kaci,” he softly corrects. “Long before.”

  “And something shifted—what that centerpiece is—I don’t fucking know.” Scanning over the bricks, I continue, “But everything you have done is a countermeasure against some invisible entity, so help me out and tell me who the fuck we’re fighting?”

  “Who do you think?”

  “In the beginning, I thought it was Jack, Serene, and you, but Jack’s dead and the shit just keeps flying. I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t even know if I can. Either you are responsible, or Serene is. And God, please don’t tell me the blood is all on your hands because I won’t be able to forgive the sins against me.”

  “Do you think it is?”

  “… Gut?”

  “Yeah,” he says.

  “I want to believe there’s not going to be a Gennaro-Raniero war, but I’m pretty fucking lost.”

  “No, Salvatore, you’re found. You just haven’t realized it yet. The dismantling of all the big cartels,” he eases back, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair. His delicate fingers—the same ones that have comforted and stroked my private places, leading back to my heart and cinching the ropes closer to him—rest under his chin. I slumber in his palms, wilt on his shoulder, and rejoice on his cock, so how can it be that this man—this man I love and worship, this man I honor with words like Master and Daddy—how can it be that he would betray me? “Her plan would’ve been ingenious. If she had thought about the other side of the coin.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She never stopped to think that her daughter—Kaci—would go after her and leave rat trails back to you. Some women conspire together and believe certain invincibility exists amongst the bloodshed. No one is immune, not even with their wombs. We are built from the fundamentals of a complex and layered righteous indignation handed down by our ancestors, a multi-generational tapestry, lacing, and binding each to the other. The gridlock is inescapable.”

  “Stephanie Serene Smith-Stanton is my final resounding answer.”

  “Cardinal-S. Red Crow. And the succubus spawn of the devil himself,” he whispers, locking his fingers together in his lap. “One bad idea when she was twenty.”

  “Who told Charlotte Tuddle the truth about being a royal Lebedev?”

  “I would imagine Jaid,” he says. “But like most things with Serene’s tribe, I have no proof. Is Dale working with her or against her?”

  “My guess is with,” I answer, unafraid. “But as you said, I have no proof. Why are we here now?”

  “Because with the ribbon cutting of the Sal Raniero crime syndicate, I cannot continue to deflect Serene’s advances alone. I am going to need help. I will be the first to admit, there were moves, like the shooting in Boston at your wedding, that I never saw coming. And I deeply apologize for your loss and the pain it caused.”

  “Is she controlling Nicky?”

  “It’s either Serene or Jaid or Cristos.”

  With a solid stare, I ask, “It’s not you?”

  “While a curious theory, I would never have permitted the rape of Hannah Cruz.”

  “… You draw the line there?”

  “Yes, because Deacon is my other son,” he confesses. “Does he know yet?”

  “No, Sir,” I reply. “What is the centerpiece? What made you shift your entire mission from aligning with Serene to being her biggest enemy?”

  With his hands clasped, he slowly lifts his two pointer fingers and points them like a gun at me. “Lucas Salvatore Raniero, I will never abandon you.”

  “What did I do?” I ask, not understanding. ”Was there a moment? A conversation? When did you switch from Team Serene to Team Sal?”

  “There wasn’t one definable instance,” he explains. “It was more progressive than that. I met you at Quinn’s rectory, and I triggered back to being twenty, fighting my father and wanting to be so much more. I wanted to put all of that energy I had back then into you. You were me. And you were mine. That first night I told you—my only goal was you until you were self-sustaining.”

  “And am I, Daddy?”

  “Yes, Capo.” He pompously affirms, “You are.”

  91

  The Milkmaid’s Revolt

  The Master

  In my black silk Tom Ford suit, Dom drops me off near the jet. “Are you headed back tonight?”

  He lowers his sunglasses and teases, “Unless I go have a little chat with Massimiliano Vidal about loyalty.”

  I snicker and give one of my infamous grins. “Don’t kill him.”

  “Oh, I don’t ever get my hands dirty, Boston.” He winks, but something draws his attention. “I love you.” His focus forces my head to turn as I see Amber and Deacon striding toward the car. “That is a helluva house you’re building, Raniero. And I am not jealous at all.”

  “Lies!” I stick my tongue out. “All lies!”

  He points at me. “Make it count.”

  I close the door and knock twice before he pulls away. I turn to Deacon Cruz in sunglasses and a navy suit.

  Holy, fuck me.

  Jesus. Yes.

  That is such a wicked good color on him.

  We smack our hands in a broshake as the wind blows Amber’s gorgeous red dress around. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I came to dr
op off the lovely mistress of mayhem,” he lures, displaying her with his hands. “Bring her back to me.” He snarls and adds, “Whole.”

  Leaning into his shoulder, I whisper, “I am half-tempted to put your ass on my plane.”

  “I got a date,” he brags, grinning like a kid in a candy store. “With a hot Asian.”

  “I hate you, man,” I playfully grumble. “Seriously, bring my girl home to me.”

  “I will not fail you.”

  “Careful, she’s slippery,” I warn.

  His brow flicks. “Especially when she’s wet.”

  “I’m gonna fucking give you a kisser to match your suit.”

  He laughs. “I got this. I’ll get your bountiful bride home.” He grabs Amber, dramatically dipping her in his arms, and kisses her like they’re more than something to just pass the time. “I love you, Stardust.”

  “I love you, Ride.”

  “Better bring back my cut,” he warns, lighting a smoke. “I need that shit.” Lifting Cruz’s arm, I take a deep drag on the cigarette as he taps my head. “Don’t overclock your system, hotrod.”

  “Bursts or burn,” I say with a wink. “Are you ready, Darlin’?”

  I offer Amber my arm. “I was born for this, Sir.”

  We walk in a line to the jet. They give one another a final kiss goodbye, and I embrace my lover. “Do whatever you gotta do.”

  “Same to you, Nero.”

  I pivot away, and he smacks my ass. Jogging up the stairs behind her, I pretend to grab her ass, which is in front of my face, and flick my tongue at him. “I’m gonna kill you, Raniero!”

  I reach the top of the steps, do a one-eighty, and spread my arms wide. “What a great way to die!”

  He grins and blows me a kiss. I catch love and grab my dick. He shakes his head. “You are full of yourself when you’re up!”

  “All the way!”

  With a look of pure love, he says, “You have no idea.”

  The airstairs close, and the engines rev as we make our way into the cabin. We’re alone—my mistress and me—going to Dubai.