Queen’s Move: Book Two of The Queens

by Slater, Nikita

  “Why are you here then?” She tried to freeze him out with her tone as she pulled at her pyjama top in an attempt to cover more skin. His eyes tracked the movement. She shivered as though he’d actually touched her, then dropped her hand.

  “I brought gifts.” He bent to retrieve something. She tensed, ready to roll off the bed and flee. Not that she would make it far, but she was certainly going to try if he did anything she deemed even slightly murdery. Instead, he straightened and set two boxes on the bed in front of her kneeling form. One was bigger, about the size of her pillow and the other much smaller, the size of the palm of her hand. “Open the larger one first.”

  Hands shaking, she reached for the larger box, pulling it toward her. It was a perfectly square, white box wrapped with a red ribbon. It was heavy, heavier than she expected and something inside rustled when she moved it. She glanced up. Sotza’s expression had gone flat, empty, dead. Whatever was in this box was business.

  Heart pounding, Vee tensed her body, knowing she wasn’t going to like his ‘gift’ but with no other choice she pulled the ribbon. The bow unravelled under her trembling fingers, falling easily away. Vee stared into Sotza’s eyes as she lifted the lid. His eyes lit with feral satisfaction as the smell of death was released from the box. Her nose automatically wrinkled at the foul odor and she forced herself to look down.

  She’d known what was in the box before she opened it. If the prick was expecting her to break into hysterics and cower, he was about to be sadly disappointed. She remained perfectly motionless except to tap one long coral-tipped fingernail against the edge of the box as she forced herself to look at the grisly contents. After a long moment, when she thought an appropriate amount of time had passed, she lifted her chin and gave Sotza an impertinent stare, arching her eyebrow.

  “Oh dear,” she said in her chilliest voice. “It appears I’ll have to find a new contact at the dockyard.”

  She glanced back down at Luis’ severed head, nestled in a cocoon of bloody plastic, his sightless cloudy eyes staring at nothing. “Pity,” she continued. “I despised his weakness but enjoyed the benefits of having someone on the inside.”

  Sotza chuckled, amused by her studied indifference as she replaced the lid on her ‘gift’ and set the package aside. She eyed him wondering if he’d done the deed himself. Then she decided he had. He’d delivered the package personally, a message to let her know that her interference in the city he was systematically taking over would not be tolerated. He’d somehow found out about her meeting with Luis that morning and intercepted the man, perhaps thinking she needed a lesson in understanding that his nickname of Butcher was well deserved in case anyone had doubts.

  “Open the other package,” he said, his deep voice becoming a caress.

  She looked up at him sharply, noting the intimacy. Not something she was expecting and definitely not something she was used to hearing. Men had become her subordinates, not her equal and definitely not her lover or master.

  She reached for the box. It was also perfectly square, though much smaller than the other. Shaped exactly like the other box with a tiny pink ribbon wrapped around it. She was relieved that the ribbon wasn’t red like the box containing Luis’ head. Using the tips of her fingernails she pulled at the edge of the ribbon until it came apart in her hands. She pulled the lid off the box. Inside was another box, a jeweler’s box. Was it a severed finger?

  Frowning, she glanced up at Sotza who was watching her with a new intensity. The light from her lamp cast his face into angles, caressing his high, sharp cheekbones and sculpted lips. Sotza was an extremely elegant, handsome man, but only in the same way one might consider Lucifer good-looking. He was also the most terrifying, chilling man she’d ever had the misfortune to meet.

  “Open it,” he demanded, his voice holding an edge of impatience, telling her she had no choice.

  Vee had no idea what to expect, but his countenance, his very presence in her bedroom told her that whatever was in this box would alter the course of her life. However short that life may be. She pried open the lid and dropped her gaze. Icy denial rushed through her, crashing into heart-stopping reason. She knew what this was… yet it couldn’t be possible.

  She pulled the stunning engagement ring from the box and held it up, her eyebrows disappearing into her bangs. She knew enough about jewelry to know that this was top of the line, worth probably close to a half million dollars. A light pink diamond surrounded by smaller diamonds set in a white gold band. Her heart thumped a crazy rhythm as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

  Far from murdering her in her bed, Sotza was… proposing to her? No, that wasn’t right. The Butcher wasn’t the type of man to ask anyone anything. He took what he wanted, just as he was taking Miami. But Vee wasn’t free for the taking. She would never marry again, never again be under the control of another human being.

  She stared at him in dismay, a frown creasing her forehead, the ring held out in her fingertips like it was poison. “What does this mean?” she asked hoarsely.

  “I’m declaring my intentions,” he said, the intimacy in his tone unmistakable now, despite the old-world language he used.

  “No!” she said immediately. “You can’t.”

  He stepped up to the bed and reached for her. If Vee had the wits left in her head for self-preservation she would have fled. But shock held her rooted to the bed. He took her wrist in a firm hold, his long, warm fingers banding around her, holding her still while he took the ring from her. He flipped her hand over and pushed the ring onto the third finger. It was a perfect fit. Of course.

  With a gasp she tried to tug her hand away, but he held her firm, the steel in his hold translating to his face, turning their encounter into something much deadlier. She stopped struggling, holding perfectly still. He dominated her with that single touch, his tall body leaning over hers, folded on the bed. She tried to lean away but he followed her, catching the back of her head with his other hand and forcing her to remain in his grip. She could feel the strength running through his solid body, though he touched her only with his hands.

  He leaned until his face hovered over hers and she could see the gold flecks in the dark brown depths of his eyes. She shivered under the sinister onslaught of The Butcher’s perusal. His voice vibrated with authority when he spoke. “This ring does not come off. You understand?”

  Vee stared back, her blue eyes icy as the arctic. She refused to speak. Refused to acknowledge his edict. His fingers clenched in the back of her hair, catching the fine strands and tugging. He dropped his lips to hers, startling her with a quick, hard kiss. It was just the press of his closed mouth against hers, opened slightly in a gasp of surprise. It shouldn’t have been erotic, yet somehow, it sent lightning bolts zinging through her body sparking an awareness she hadn’t felt in years. Perhaps never. Her eyes flew open before he pulled away. His gaze met hers and she saw satisfaction burning there.

  He spoke barely an inch away from her mouth, his warm breath marking her. “Take that ring off and there will be consequences, Vee.”

  He released her, allowing her to collapse back onto the bed. She landed palms down on all fours. She knew the position looked sexual, that he could see her underwear; caught the flash of lustful heat in his gaze before he shuttered it. He scooped up the larger of the boxes and headed out the bedroom door. Vee scrambled off the bed and followed him.

  She was extremely conscious of her bare legs but wanted to keep eyes on her deadly intruder at all times. He set the box down on her kitchen island and turned back to her, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe in one heated glance. She shivered and crossed her arms. Then uncrossed them, aware that the hem off her nightshirt rode up the edge of her thighs when she did that.

  “I’ll be in touch,” he told her and left through the front door of her condo, resetting her alarm system. Vee gaped after him. Belatedly, she wondered what the hell had happened to her bodyguards? She hoped they weren’t dead.

  G
od, what had she done to deserve this? Comeuppance perhaps for murdering her first husband without a shred of remorse. Now she would be forced into the company of the devil himself?

  And what the fuck was wrong with Sotza anyway? Who decided they wanted to get married after a single meeting? To the woman he’s supposed to dispose of. The whole concept was bizarre and crazy. But she knew enough about the man that he would be determined once he set a course of action. If he wanted Vee to become his wife, he would do everything in his power to make it happen.

  And she was going to do anything and everything she could to get herself out of this sham of an engagement and reclaim her city. Perhaps if he imagined himself in love, or something equally ridiculous, she could eventually get close enough to kill him.

  Looking down at the ring that adorned her left hand, Vee did the one thing she knew would declare all-out war with the terrifying man who had just staked his claim on her. She slid the ring off her finger and placed it deliberately on the counter, then turned and stomped back to bed. She would deal with Luis, or what was left of him, and the ring and in the morning.

  Chapter Five

  Sotza went to ground while Vee spent the next few weeks desperately plotting ways to keep her city safe from him. She sensed him orchestrating her downfall, manoeuvering each player, each hub, playing a chess game with a foregone conclusion. He planned and executed like the ruler of an oppressed kingdom, as though born and bred to destabilize an entire regime without the worry of tarnish to his crown. Which was exactly what he was; born to be king.

  Vee knew it was him stamping his presence all over her city, even if no one else actually saw The Butcher and lived to tell. Other gangs, cartel guys and wannabe kingpins working within Miami toppled as his men moved, cleaning house. They rarely touched Vee’s holdings, except for the dockyard. It was whispered throughout the city, among Vee’s rivals, that she and Sotza had set up a partnership. She knew better. The ruthless cartel boss was just saving her for last. Everyone else was the fucking main course. She was to be his dessert.

  “We have to take the dockyard back; it’s a key gateway between Miami and most foreign markets,” Danny explained, a map of the dockyard spread between him and Vee. “The water isn’t near as regulated as air and land.”

  Vee nodded in agreement. She knew all that. “Won’t he expect retaliation? He’ll know I’m coming for it.”

  “Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’s been a few weeks and security seems to have gotten lax. He probably thinks you’re giving it up for now and focusing effort on tightening security on your other investments, yeah? Plus, he’s concentrating on the Cubans at the moment. I’m telling you, boss, now is the time to strike. Tonight.”

  She nodded thoughtfully a slight frown creasing her brows. Sotza didn’t seem like the type to let security go lax around a key point. He was not a stupid man by any stretch. So, what was he playing at? But, Danny was also correct. They needed to strike while Sotza was looking the opposite way. If they could somehow bring the Venezuelans to their knees she would stand a fighting chance.

  “Okay,” Vee agreed, nodding sharply. “We go in tonight. But we go in quiet, as little noise as possible. Take them out one at a time if we can, just in case this is some kind of trick to draw us in.”

  “Vee…” he started to say.

  “I’m going,” she snapped, cutting him off. “Non-negotiable. I’ll meet you in a few hours. Have an entry plan ready for us and several exit plans in case anything happens. Bring as many guys as you think we’ll need, but make sure they know how I want this going down. No mistakes, no casualties, you hear me?”

  He nodded, his face set in grim lines as he turned away. She sighed and left him to let himself out, going to her room to see what she had for stealthy dockyard takeover wear. Though he balked, Danny understood that she needed to be present for business meetings and such. But he absolutely despised when she insisted on joining the men for combat situations. Too fucking bad, she was the boss. She refused to send her people into places and situations she wouldn’t enter into herself. She may not be as combat ready as most of the men on her payroll, but she was fast, and she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

  Chapter Six

  Stumbling from her front door into her kitchen, Vee snatched up a clean glass from the sink and twisted the tap for cold water, desperately wishing she had something stronger in her house. The dried blood on her skin smeared across the glass as her hands became wet. She didn’t bother to wash it away. What was the point? She had so much blood on her hands, what was a few drops more?

  She placed a shaking hand on her forehead, smearing more blood on her face and in her hair, as she drank the entire glass of water. It quenched her thirst and helped to steady her a little. Lowering the glass, she filled it once more, this time drinking with a little more grace and less of the desperation she’d been feeling since she flung herself in her Maserati at the dockyard and drove home.

  She hadn’t turned on any lights when she came in, preferring the shadows. It was what she did, lived in the dark. At first it had been a reaction to her circumstances, constantly hiding, knowing that enemies could see her if she surrounded herself by light. Then she got used to the dark, treating it like an old friend. So much so, she no longer needed light to forge a path in her home.

  Placing her glass on the counter she reached down and unzipped first one boot, then the other, allowing them to fall to the floor. She was usually a tidy person, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about where her things landed right at the moment. Not when lives had been lost. When her own life hung precariously in the balance.

  She opened her hoodie and allowed it to fall from her shoulders, leaving her dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, a black spaghetti strap tank and bare feet. She picked up the water and walked to the balcony. Opening the door, she stepped outside into the cool Miami breeze. She shivered but made no attempt to cover her bare arms. She welcomed the chill. Since she stopped using drugs she learned to enjoy simple things, like the sharpness of tactile sensations. Even though some were less pleasant than others she still welcomed them.

  Vee took several deep, calming breaths, using the crisp ocean breeze to cleanse her lungs and clear her head. She wished she could go for a swim in the dark pounding surf. Would’ve except security would follow her down, watch her, wonder what she was thinking. Appearance was everything for a female mob boss, she couldn’t afford to appear anything less than completely put together. She hated that she was so rattled. Her usual calm obliterated in the face of an enemy that that was superior in every way. He had more men, more guns, more skill.

  She was going to lose this war.

  He’d been waiting at the dockyard. Waiting for her counter-attack. They’d been surrounded, had to fight their way out. The only thing that saved them was Sotza’s reluctance to let Vee die. Once she realized none of his men were aiming anywhere near her she yelled for her own crew to get behind her. It was a ballsy move. And her guys had been reluctant to hide behind her, the woman they’d sworn to protect.

  “I’ll fucking shoot you myself if you don’t do as I say!” she screamed her frustration until they fell in around her, surrounding the boss as she demanded. The dockyard had fallen eerily silent after that, Sotza’s guys refusing to engage as long as a bullet might hit her. Smoke from flares was thick in the air. Sotza’s side had thrown them in a bid to confuse and scatter her crew.

  “Come out where I can see you, you coward!” she shouted into the dark stillness.

  She felt the tension of her guys as footsteps echoed through the yard. The heels of his shoes striking the pavement. He moved where she could see him, but not close enough for her to do the damage she so badly wanted to inflict.

  Sotza’s sharp eyes took her in, drinking her up with obvious possession gleaming in the dark depths. She felt stripped bare, right there in front of both sides. Then his eyes focused on her face and neck, the blood splattered in her blond hair. “You’re hurt,” h
e growled.

  What the fuck was his problem? He attacks her, in her territory, in her dockyard, with the clear intention of taking out as many of her people as possible. But for some reason the idea that’s she’d been hurt in the crossfire displeased him.

  “Not mine, asshole,” she snarled back. “One of my guys.”

  A hint of relief shadowed his features before he smoothed his expression. “Good,” he replied, casually dismissing the death. She shouldn’t be surprised. To secure his place in Venezuela more than two decades ago, he’d breathed, slept and ate death. The murder of one person, a pesky adversary, would mean nothing to him. In fact, it baffled her that he seemed to want her alive so bad.

  “You’re not wearing my ring.” His voice was casual, but she could hear the chill. “I warned you about that.”

  “I’m not fucking marrying you!” Vee shouted, unable to maintain her usual calm in the face of this weird psycho. Maybe this was his plan. Annoy the hell out of her until she died of bafflement. “You can take that ring and stick it up your ass.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “You need to watch what you say, Vee. I like your elegance, your cool sophistication. It would be a shame for you to turn into a brat. I’d have to reteach you proper decorum after the wedding.”

  At that point she wanted to shoot him more than she wanted to breathe. If she didn’t have the safety of her men to consider she might have done it. Though she kept her gun hand lowered, her finger twitched against the trigger.

  “Concede the dockyard and I’ll let you and your men go.” His countenance became business-like. “Concede the city and I’ll think about letting your people live permanently.”

  Vee didn’t know if she could believe him. While he might want her, he wouldn’t want men that were loyal to anyone but him. Sotza wasn’t known to be merciful. He mowed down all in his path, staked his claim and enjoyed life as though he wasn’t a bloody butcher. She could see movement in the shadows all around him. His men were in place, ready to pick them off if anyone made a false move. She had no choice.