“Is he dead?” I bluntly ask because he should be.
Moving the mattress, Gabe dismissively laughs like Raphael defending his own flesh and blood would result in war over a small infraction. It isn’t a small infraction for Lia Montesino. Her daughter is learning the program of acceptance.
“No, he is in timeout with mother babying him,” he informs. “She is filling his head full of nonsense. How he should steal Soleil, return to Mexico, and Immortal will protect him. The scene is over. Everyone is safe, but Lia is pretty banged up. ”
“Immortal won’t protect him or her for shit,” Dante says as my ass wiggles against his semi-rigid state. “Lotus, you are so naughty…”
“Put your dick in me, Dante,” I moan on my hands and knees as Gabe undoes his pants and squats against the bed. Dante thrusts in slowly, grabbing my hips and sequestering the fears. “Take me.”
Gabe strokes my hair and whispers, “Silence the demons, precious.”
Mama will vigilantly protect the boys dancing in her petals.
93
a blizzard in a desert
The Master
Amber’s royal blue outfit is stunning on her figure. Its two-piece, constructed like a suit, but instead of pants, the shorts display an entrancing sheer matching blue skirt.
With rhinestone five-inch heels and plenty of bling, she looks exactly like what she is—the kept mistress of a mobster. I’m rocking the black suit, open white shirt, and slicked-back hair like I was born in the attire.
G-Man isn’t too shabby in a dark olive three-piece. I wanted to inquire if he had a mechanical pocket watch tucked into his vest, but then I realized I don’t have to ask. He’s Giles Ulysses Kettles and a proper Englishman.
Of course he does.
“Can I get you anything?” G-Man asks as we sit in the ballroom, waiting for the final verdict. I check my watch and roll my eyes, growing more irritated by the minute. Stanis, Kola, and all of their men have been meeting in the adjoining boardroom for almost four hours.
“Whiskey.”
“Double?”
“The whole fucking bottle,” I snap, strumming my hands on the table as Amber imparts a sympathetic smile. “No ice.”
He leaves as she grabs my hand and consoles, “There is no way Cristos will let this go through.”
“The deal was supposedly undone last night,” I whisper. “This is just a formality. Cristos isn’t even here anymore.
“Where did he go?”
“Brazil,” I say.
“Shit,” she says, panicking. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” she replies, shaking her head. “I am sure it will be fine.”
“Tell me.”
“I’m going to run to the room and see if I can call Iris. Cristos is a lot to handle.”
“He’s not dangerous,” I assure.
“I’m going,” she says as I stand with her. “I’ll let you know if she calls.”
I wander through the ballroom, passing by several clusters of men who offer distinct nods. They know who I am—Luca Raniero’s blood.
The wall of glass panes catches my attention with the enormous palm trees framing the glorious serene picture. The cobalt skies so closely match the admiral blue waters that I am left breathless. I step outside into the warmth of the landscape and smirk at the regal pool dotted with people smiling their day away.
I slip off my shoes at the sand filled pathways encircling the water, and I notice Fink chatting up G-Man. I smile.
Good boy.
But which one?
Honestly, probably both.
I pull off my coat, draping it over my arm, and walk down to the beach. It isn’t overly crowded, mostly families with children, running and playing and building sandcastles that will just wash away in the elements.
We are elements—restricted and confined by our template in nature. We can go against the grain, but in doing so, we do ourselves the greatest injustice. We cannot fight what we are. What we are destined to be.
Her waters bleed into my flames.
And my fires steam by her seas.
The water hits my toes, and I want to believe if I dove into the ocean that I could swim to meet her on another shore…on another continent…and we could pick up the beat where we left off. The love flows like music in one continuous passage, and we’re somehow connected through the ravages of time even though we’re oceans apart.
Nothing blemishes true love.
Because we can always come back to the water—healing, rebirthing, and quenching the pain away. I thrive in the chaos of the flames, but I crave her seas. She calms the burn. Silences the doubt. And ignites the spark in me to blaze hotter.
One cannot win as we are in love.
Acceptance is a bittersweet pill, but I welcome the suffering knowing the joys bring harmony. I am not defeated but calling a truce.
Luca would be proud of me.
I am building an empire for a girl.
A girl on the other side of the world, surrounded by a different tide, but so much the same, only shifting in the undercurrent. I can’t call her. I don’t even know her number. But she’s out there somewhere with my last name.
Play it like a Raniero, girl.
Don’t blink. Don’t doubt.
Just jump.
Do more. Do better. Don’t fucking quit.
I am on the beach in a swanky suit in Dubai, and the halcyon picture has never shown such vivid clarity amongst gloomy shadows.
His Butterfly
On Halloween, at three in the afternoon, we convene on the terrace for Soleil’s fourth birthday party. The ethereal, pink glittery spectacle is what every little princess dreams of—an enormous unicorn cake, balloons, streamers, music, and more food than the hundred-plus guests could ever consume.
The red brick fire pit flickers with cruel discord, soothed by a veil of flowing, crystalline water, sparkling like blue diamonds.
Soleil Herrera sits in a miniature royal throne on a pedestal built for the special occasion. This child is going to have as many issues as I do. There must be a happy medium between growing up without knowing who I was versus it being flaunted and thrown in her face.
There must be a middle between this and that.
In a lightweight, pale cream dress, I arrive on the arm of Dante Herrera. I am approximately seven and a half months pregnant, but I feel radiant standing beside his muscular physique. He’s wearing a gray suit with an open golden shirt, looking dashing as ever.
“Can I get you anything?”
“You can do tonight what you did this morning,” I playfully suggest with a bite to my lip. “If you want…”
“I want,” he teases grinning. “How about a dance?”
Holding my fingertips, he guides me down the staircase with his hand on my back as we make our way to the dance floor under a large white tent. We’re alone—just he and I. “What happens next?”
“We’re leaving for Peru late tonight after I fuck you.”
“I should go finish packing,” I giggle, smiling. “I need cake first.”
He spins me out, and I land in front of Gabe, sizzling with sensuality. I gasp at his penetrating stare fraught with spine-chilling demons. “Hi…”
“Dance with me, Lotus.”
“Yes!” I laugh as Dante feigns disappointment. “Awww!”
He kisses my cheek and whispers, “I will see you tonight.”
Gabe pulls me close as we do a slow, erotic tango minus the dips. His body is pressed into mine, and I feel his erection.
“You need to be careful with Dante.” His low voice thrums. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Why are you saying this?”
“You’ll end up falling for him,” he forewarns, trapping me in his firm grasp. “And you are a married woman, Iris.”
“You’re assuming I haven’t already fallen for you,” I whisper as the friction between our bodies blooms with a minacious intensity. We’re the mo
st fragrant rose with the stem encased in pulsing, poisonous fishhook thorns. “You’re thinking, all I see is what they do,” I point out, nodding to the women flocking around Dante. “I like the way you think, Gabriel. I want to fuck your mind.”
“That’s CAE talking,” he mutters. “Follow me.”
We exit the tent out the back, and he leads our way to the side door of the house where we slip in unannounced. We creep through the hallways to his bedroom. “What are we doing?”
“I want to show you something.”
Hopefully, something involving his cock.
I smile. “Your room smells like you.”
“Sit,” he says, waving at one chair as he moves the other closer. He opens the leather folder. “This is everything I have figured out about their programming. I have been trying to decode it for years.”
“Dear God, you’re brilliant.”
“Iris…”
I peer up in awe, and he whispers, “These are Salvatore’s original research papers…”
“Oh, my…fuck nasty.” My hands tremble as I stare at all the indecipherable equations, manic formulas, and paralyzing code. It’s enough to drive a sane man to the bottle or the blade. Shock runs through my system as I advise, “He doesn’t do math.”
“He’s fucking lying.”
“This is scary,” I admit on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Flipping through the hundreds of pages, I whisper, “My husband is trying to hack the shit in my head.”
“Yes,” he confirms. “These are all of my notes. Can you make sure these get to him?”
“… Where are you going?”
“I am not planning on going anywhere, but you never know,” he replies, touching my arm. “I have a copy of them. His originals are going with you. Get them back to Salvatore.”
“I will.” He leans over and kisses me. I breathe against his lip and whisper, “I don’t know him at all.”
“He’s an asshole, and you’ll probably love him.” I laugh as tears well in my eyes. “You belong together. This thing with Dante, you can’t trust it. And me, I will be your friend forever.”
“You said you were a bad man, Gabe,” I reply, glancing at his rough hands. “But, you have been nothing but a gentleman to me.”
“Thank you, Iris.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, laying my hand on his cheek. “You deserve happiness.”
“So do you,” he declares, kissing my lips passionately. “In another life, you will be mine.”
“God, don’t say that.”
“We have to get back to the party,” he insists as we stand up. “After we drop that off in your room.”
I nod at his rejection, and the guilt I feel hurts. I stop dead in my tracks. “What if he doesn’t forgive me?”
“He would be a fool not to love you forever.”
I close my eyes tight as his fingers latch into mine. We deposit the leather folder into my luggage, and I lock it up. “Ready.”
We return to the party in full swing with even more people present. I am quiet and reflective, knowing this Queen received the best gift of the day. I fake smile my way through the crowd as Gabe and I part.
“May I have this dance?”
I quickly spin to the older man that I have only seen angry at family dinners in Boston. “… Cesario? What are you doing here?”
“I am a guest of the Montesinos,” he replies, offering me his arm. “Dance with me, beautiful.”
“I have no reason to take your arm, your dance, or your conversation.”
He tilts his head and raises his brows. “Aside from the fact that I am the closest person to your husband present at this party.”
He’s got me there—except maybe Gabe.
Even Masa and Sato have left to secure Peru for their beloved Lotus. I lick my lips. “One dance.”
“It’s only going to take one to convince you two would be great, sweets,” he charms.
I smile and blush, unable to speak because I keep giggling. “Raniero charm isn’t wasted with you.”
“Nah, I just rarely have a reason to use it.”
“Let’s dance,” I encourage, latching my arm into my father-in-law. “Besides, I never had a dance with you on my wedding day.”
“You should’ve called,” he replies as I fit snugly in his arms. He’s a big, fluffy bear, whose bite I can tame. “I would’ve taken a flight to New Orleans.”
“I thought I was just a slant-eyed vixen and a gold-digging whore?”
“You still are, but you’re damn good at what you do,” he teases as his broad smile brings a comfort. “Seriously, they were harsh words,” he tenderly replies. “Words I never should have said about you. I was angry with my son…grandson…and I am sorry, Iris Amarie Nakamura Raniero. Please accept my apology.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, my daughter.”
“Sal’s your son,” I whisper, trying not to cry. “We all know Vinny didn’t raise him. You may not have been the best father to him, but you are his father, and he has to accept that if he’s ever to grow.”
“Sal already has,” he proudly brags with a twinkle in his eye. “He’s rebuilding the Raniero Fisheries.”
“... Are you serious?”
“Yes,” he confirms, holding me close. “Protect my son at all costs, Lotus.”
“I will be good for him.”
“Make sure he knows how much I care about him,” he confides as the shots ring out in a spray of gunfire. His eyes widen in horror as he releases his grip, backing away and falling to the ground. Trembling in fear, I crouch down low and piss myself. There’s blood. So, so much blood.
“Oh, my God!” I uncontrollably sob. “Help!”
“Iris…” Cesario grabs my hand. “Tell Lucas…he can do this…tell him to be a better Dad than I ever was…take my gun…get out of here, girl…run…”
His eyes shutter closed as I hysterically howl, “Oh! God! No! Help! Don’t die! Help me! God, someone! Help me! Please!” I scream at the top of my lungs, praying he hears my siren’s wail. “God, no! No!”
Reaching under his jacket, I swipe the gun as Dante clenches his arms around me, and we shuffle out the back. I am covered in blood as we rush into the house, echoing with retaliatory fire. Frantic people stained with blood and guts scatter like roaches in the hostile territory.
“What’s happening?” I demandingly yell, “Dante!”
“We have to go!” He forcefully urges, pulling me along. “Now, Iris!”
We skitter into my bedroom, where Gabe sits in a chair with Salomé pointing a gun at his head. She scolds, “This is all your fault, whore!”
I look at her—the reflection of what I cannot let myself become—as she grasps for power only to discover it was never there to begin with. Money and greed are twins, but power sits alone as the invincible child.
Covet it—though you will—true power is invisible.
“Fuck you!” Lifting Cesario’s gun, I fire one shot. “Try again, bitch!”
“They weren’t lying about you,” Gabe mutters, crippled by the unholy act from my hands. “Holy shit…”
“No, they weren’t,” I reply in tears. Tightening the broad waist belt on the dress, I securely tuck the gun on the side of my baby—Salvatore Raniero’s baby. Mama will not let Goblin die tonight. They will not take my baby. And I will put a bullet in every last one of them if they try. “The fucking Lotus Queen is prepared to defend her crown. But I need a better bang.”
… in more ways than one.
94
ruby red in the jungle
The Master
Lounging in my room, I flip channels on the flat-screen when I notice my phone lighting up. I had dinner with Amber, Giles, and Fink at an incredible seafood eatery. They wanted to have a drink in the bar, but I know it’ll be full of Suits.
I’ve made it through this almost sober with a few social drinks and a couple of addies earlier today.
Not bad considering.
But I am trying to be a better Sal.
G-Man flurries into the room, out of breath. “They got her!”
I yell, “Where were you?”
“I went to the bathroom, came back, and she vanished!”
I take off running. I don’t even bother with shoes as I sprint down the hallway to the slow-ass elevators.
“Fuck it!” I swing open the stairwell doors, sliding on the rails, and monkeying my way down. I finally get down to the first floor, but another set leads to the basement.
With the proverbial fork in the road, I make a choice I pray I don’t regret. If he gets out of Dubai with her, she will be long gone.
Swinging over the rail, I jump down to the bottom landing. I crack the door to the parking garage. It’s relatively quiet and empty. I close my eyes, but in the distance, I hear her briefly muffled scream. I run as fast as I fucking can to the opposite end of the garage to see her legs flailing out of the back seat of an SUV with Archer’s pants around his hips.
“You son of a bitch,” I roar, barreling into him without thinking. A screeching noise hits a high note as the door scratches another SUV parked in the adjoining spot. “Get the fuck away from her!”
“She isn’t yours!” he shouts, jabbing his fist into my cheek. “You ain’t man enough for her slut!”
Using my fists as weapons, I unleash all the rage I have carried for so long. My knuckles bust open as his face bleeds. “You aren’t stealing her, motherfucker!”
“What the hell are you doing?” Archer bellows beneath my blows. “She wanted it!”
I don’t bother to look at Amber when she cries, “No, I didn’t, asshole!”
Ramming my knee into his bare junk, I drill in the message of the crab rings as he slumps against the door and falls to the ground.
“Raniero!” I hear from behind. I slowly spin to find Stanis with a gun to Giles’ head. “Get away from the car, or the kid dies!”
A Dark Place (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 5) Page 75
