Two hours later, we step out of the office to a room of concerned faces. Smoothly rising from the chair, Dom asks, “How did it go?”
“We’re good,” Sal comments. “Golden.”
“I’ve been speaking with Masa,” Dom politely informs. I discreetly blink at Deacon, knowing he pulled his weight for my smooth departure. “And I’ve decided to join you in Gifu while Iris returns to Texas.”
Sal will never go against his Master’s wishes.
Not now.
Play the game, girl.
“There are so many loose threads,” Sal sternly warns. “Are you sure?”
“We have plenty of protection in Sugargrove.” I eye Megan, sitting proper with her hands in her lap, and I wonder what she and Deacon did with Kali’s body. I’ll be long gone by the time they find her remains. Megan discreetly winks. “My slave will be joining Iris on her return to the States.”
Oh. Shit.
Her smile widens.
“Where did Trudy go?” I nervously ask.
“She already left with Delarte, Serene, and Nico for Fiji. Ho is waiting in the car for you and Megan. Kali had some business to attend to with the Goro.” He tilts his head and winks. “You will be fine. Did you need anything else?”
“No,” I reply, stunned by how smooth the lies fall from our tongues. “Where are Kade and Mae?”
“Oh, Serene and Nicky brought Rosalina with them.”
“I’m sure they will have a wonderful time.” With a reluctance, I mention, “I should be going, so you guys can get out of here.”
Dom moves to kiss Megan goodbye, and I hug Masa. “Be gentle with my boys.”
“It will be gentler than what they endured tonight.”
“When will I see you?” I question.
“I’ll probably come to the States with them in a couple of weeks unless you need me here.”
I shake my head. “Not unless all hell breaks loose.”
“Don’t curse us, Iris.” He chuckles.
I giggle and hug Deacon as he nuzzles my neck and whispers, “Go to the doctor.”
“Mhmm.” He presses his hands to my cheeks, and we have an extended peck that lasts too long for a casual relationship. He wanted to ground his ungodly energy in me. “I will. I love you. Take care of him.”
“No worries, doll.”
Turning to Sal, I grin as he smirks like the devil. He hoists my ass on his shoulder and runs for the exit. “You’re insane!”
“For you!” he claims, setting me down next to the limo as the others follow. “I love you, Iris Amarie.”
“I know,” I reassure. “And I love you. You’re going to have a wonderful time in the cold chambers.”
He laughs, “You’re probably right.”
“I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“Just a couple nights,” he says. “And then you get me for the rest of your life.”
“Twenty-something,” I contend. “Lots of lonely nights between here and there.”
“Stay safe, please.”
“Yes, yes…”
“Enzo is still out there,” he reminds, not wanting to let me go. “And I need you whole to go to Europe.”
“Yes, Nero the Black.”
“Megan!” Sal yells. “I need you to keep an eye on her because she’s bad.”
“Of course, Sir!”
“I love you so fucking much, Angel.”
“I love you, Capo.” I wink and turn to get in the limo as he swats my ass.
Megan follows and sits across from me. The limo pulls away as I stare out the window at the men I love in the distance.
Licking her lips, Megan spreads her thighs ever so slight. Taunted by the dark lure beneath her skirt, I pull the gun from my purse and fire the shot.
“Lick me, slut!” I moan with my legs spread on the leather seat. My eyes roll back in my head as I shudder and come on the tip of her hungry tongue. “Damn!”
Out of breath, Megan perks up between my legs. “You want to tell me now, why you just killed Ho?”
“Because I killed Kali too,” I confess, diving across the seat and kissing her fattened pout. “I want to be alone.”
She meekly asks, “Are you going to kill me?”
“No, I’m going to fuck you.”
“Shit,” she whispers as my mouth savors her neck. My fingers slide under her shirt and cup the smoothness of her silken bra. “Dom is going to be pissed.”
“Not if he doesn’t know,” I lure, unbuttoning her blouse. “Girls have to keep some secrets, or the boys will eat us alive.”
The wide straps of her undergarment amuse me as she volunteers, “It’s a great set.”
“Show me,” I coerce, sliding over the seat, leaning against the door, and crossing my legs. I light a smoke and pour a whiskey as she undresses. The wrap around bra and panties are a flat satin with no lace. “I love the eggplant color.”
“So does he,” she mutters as I run my fingers over the side of her breast and experience a strange moment of dithering. “Should I take it off, Mistress?”
With a humored smile, I whisper, “No. I’m many things, but I won’t force you to submit to something you don’t want to do.”
She grins, stealing a drag off the smoke and bravely swiping a sip of my drink—I don’t care, but most people aren’t as bold as sweet Megan. “You wouldn’t be forcing me at all, Ma’am. Dom said to entertain you.” She winks. “But, he has no clue why you killed Kali.”
I blink, fearful. “... How did he know I did it?”
“Because Amber ran into him as she was running off and declared—That Lotus cunt is fucking crazy!”
“We should be drinking champagne!”
“Yes, Ma’am!”
Patting my shoulder, I spread out as she curls up with her head resting in the crook of my arm. My fingers stroke her hair as we lay in the backseat of a limousine. The rain glistens on the glass.
“A very long time ago,” I whisper, tenderly kissing the top of her head. “A brilliant and sexy man told me I had to be crazier than the crazy if I wanted to survive.”
Her big blue eyes bounce up to mine. “Who said that?”
“Salvatore Raniero.”
God, I miss him.
God, I love him.
Heaven help me.
95
Feed Me, Mama
His Butterfly
April 29, 1990
With my thin charcoal hair strewn up in pigtails, I tugged on my grandfather’s sleeve. I had been staying with them since Christmas because my parents were constantly fighting.
“Hey! What are you doing?” I loudly yelled, garnering his attention. He opened one eye, peering down as I demanded, “What are you doing?”
The balding, older middle-aged man said, “I’m meditating.”
Without regard to his cross-legged position, I crawled into his lap. “Why?”
“Because this is how I pray.”
Quickly, he placed me on my bottom, and I sat as he was. I inquisitively queried, “Should I pray?”
“Yes!”
Straightening my back, I closed my eyes and pretended to find the silence my grandfather embraced. He attempted to resume his efforts, but my attention span didn’t last. I whispered, “What do you see?”
“Enlightenment.”
Bordering on a temper tantrum, I gave a frustrated huff. “All I see is dark.”
“Try harder,” he encouraged. “This is about finding one’s self—alone. Hush now! You are too loud. Stop making so much noise. You won’t find peace if you’re talking. Be good, little girl.”
After a minute, I peeked and mischievously smirked. Staring at his trance-like state, I imagined a hidden place where I could escape from the demons haunting me in the night.
My castle would be loud—really loud—with lots of energy where I could make as much noise as I wanted in all the chaos.
“My flower,” he scolded, tapping on my knee. “Stop your wild rocking.”
“So
rry, Sofu.”
A ruckus in the other room sent me running for the door as my grandmother screamed, “Kei!”
“Iris! Wait! You must never just open the doors!” he shouted as his tired knees lifted his body. I would never forget the blistering cries from her lungs. “Iris Amarie!”
It was too late.
I was gone.
Spotting the men in their fine suits barging into the house, I knelt in the hallway the way Baba did. One in a gray suit, black overcoat, and fedora hoisted me into his arms and softly said, “Who are you, pretty?”
When he spoke, waves of mint hit my nose as I blinked at his deep emerald eyes. They were like nothing I had ever seen, swirling with lots of forest green hues. I hid my face against his shoulder and smelled the subtle spice of his dark olive skin. My tiny fingers curled around his jacket, and I whimpered, “I am Iris.”
“And where is your sofu?” he asked for him by name, and I trusted him. Pointing to the study, I saw the round man force Baba into the bedroom. She was hysterically sobbing...wailing.
Startled by their appearance, my grandfather demanded, “What are you doing here?”
The blonde-haired man smiled. “Just came to tell you the last son was just born. This is your final chance to join our partnership as an alliance, or we will view you as an enemy.”
Grandfather blinked up. “Please, Luca!”
“I cannot stop it, old friend,” the man holding me said. Safe in his arms, he carried me. “The game is changing faster than I ever imagined.”
“Please don’t hurt her…”
“I’m not a monster,” Luca assured, sitting in the rocking chair. “You’re such a pretty lil girl! Those blue-violet almonds are going to destroy men one day,” he praised, bouncing me on his lap. “Pretty, pretty! I will give her to the last born in exchange for not attacking your outfit.”
“You cannot promise my granddaughter to anyone!”
The men laughed as Angelo Gennaro cautioned, “We can. Or we can kill you and your wife and sell the girl.”
“Where is my wife?” my grandfather pleaded. “Aki!”
“Entertaining Cesario,” Angelo goaded, inflicting the fatal wounds into the Nakamura family. “Celebrating the birth of a legend!”
“Please,” my grandfather begged. “Do not hurt the child. My wife…please stop!” he panicked, hearing her screams. I would never forget the blistering cries from her lungs. He rushed for the door before Angelo put up a hand. “Make it stop!”
“I wouldn’t do that old man,” the blonde man warned. “You are either friend or foe.”
“I’m a bastard, not a beast,” Luca whispered to me. “You’re going to belong to my grandson one day, Iris Amarie Raniero.”
“What is a Ran–ro?”
Keishi sobbed as Luca informed, “I am a Ran–ro, and you will be one too.”
In my tiny silk pink kimono with white lotuses, I hugged Luca and played with his gold and diamond ringed fingers. His skin was so different from mine.
“That was amazing!” Cesario boomed, fastening his pants. “So fucking tight!”
“Watch your language!” Luca warned as I hid against his lapel. “Just because you are a punk doesn’t mean you get to corrupt the child’s ears.”
“My turn!” Angelo boasted as Cesario followed him. “This is going to be so good!”
“Please, Luca! Please, Saint!” Keishi begged, collapsing to his knees. “Stop them from hurting…raping…my wife!”
“I can’t,” Luca said. “But I will not be joining them.”
“Neither will I,” Saint replied, sniffing the incense holder. “We’re locked in.”
“Do they know about the last one’s parents?”
“Yes,” Saint informed. “And Aki’s service will keep their mouths sealed.”
My grandfather hit the ground.
“He’s praying,” I whispered, playing with Luca’s mustache. “He does it a lot.”
“Do you pray, pretty?”
“Nope,” I chirped, grinning, “Dark comes when I pray.”
“You will pray one day with your husband,” Luca contended. “And who will your husband be, Iris?”
“A Ran–ro,” she answered as Keishi’s head bent to his chest. “Iris Ran–e–ro.”
“You’ve almost got it!” he cheered, smiling wide. “Raniero. His name is Lucas Salvatore Raniero.”
“Sal…”
“Yes, Iris,” Luca said as she held him close. “Iris Raniero. Those sapphire eyes…pretty, pretty…lil girl.”
“Where are they?” the man in black asked from the door. He was dressed funny, not like the others in their suits.
“In the other room, Jorgé.” With his hands under my arms, I stood on his lap and stared at the stranger in black. “What is your name, pretty?”
I smiled. “Iris Raniero.”
I kept smiling for years.
But I would never forget the haunting blistering cries from her lungs.
Thirty-five thousand feet off the ground, I wake—soaked and screaming. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I sit up, remembering the day almost thirty years ago like it was yesterday.
“This is overwith…”
Megan cracks open the door. “Are you okay, Lotus?”
“I am fine,” I breathlessly whisper. “Thank you.”
“Do you need anything?”
“To be alone.”
She leaves, and I cry for the little girl I was. I cry because I can smell Luca in Salvatore’s skin, and I can taste the smooth mint in his kiss.
Sal and I were arranged—from the start.
I don’t think he knows.
With the memories fresh in my mind, I open the nightstand and pull out Lotus stationery and a pen. I write it all down from beginning to end, seal it in an envelope, and address it…not to Sal, but Quinn….
Quinn will catch him.
And make sure Sal ends up at Sanctum.
This is the worst hurt I’ve ever inflicted, and Deacon and Dom may not be able to catch him this time. He put all the stops in place for a reason. They were a trio of Masters—Quinn, Dom, Deacon—with one goal—safekeeping the v2.0.
An arranged marriage to me is the exact thing to send Sal on a downward spiral to hell where ivory powder serves as comfort food between every meal. He’ll numb the past to deal with the future. I know because he’s been doing the same song and dance for years, and I am not stupid enough to believe in the grand illusions that this will magically stop his routine.
Less than six months after The Four Horsemen invaded my grandparents home, Keishi and Aki Nakamura would leave the States, only to briefly return for the occasional holiday over the next decade.
We were Japanese.
We were outcasts.
And I was fair game.
My father insisted I use Kettles and be raised far away from the family’s loss of face. As American as possible, he would say.
My mother, Lydia Kettles, refused to move to Asia or—anywhere—because, by that point, she was Angelo Gennaro’s mistress.
I never truly knew my grandparents until Sal shipped me off to Guam, and I escaped to Japan.
My grandfather and grandmother returned to the Palace, and because of that, my father split my parents’ marriage apart. My mother’s affair with Angelo was to keep tabs on my arranged marriage. After all, maintaining future investments was part of the game.
Raniero and Gennaro may have fought like dogs until they were confronted by an outsider—an Asian crime dynasty—and suddenly, the Italians were united.
Because that is what they did.
That is who they were.
Delarte Cristos was not present during the assault of my grandmother, which led to my initial clinging to him. He had a way in, a power I did not possess, and an ability to say no amongst The Four Horsemen.
I selectively punished those to blame for my family’s downfall. At the first opportunity, I killed Angelo Gennaro. And sooner or later, I would k
ill Cesario Raniero.
I didn’t desire or crave it.
I knew I would do it.
Angelo Gennaro and Cesario Raniero terrorized my family. At the same time, Luca Raniero and Saint Cruz’s hands were tied by The Commission, more specifically Sanctum, and they feared the last born’s biological parentage would cause a cataclysm if discovered.
Not every man would risk his life for a woman.
Both offspring—my boys—would, but they were…special.
Luca wasn’t protecting Cesario, but his granddaughter and last born’s mother, Stella. He respected his extended family of the Veramonte clan and the arranged marriage of his son, Cesario Raniero, and Pietro Veramonte’s daughter, Lucilla.
While Pietro and Luca were heavily involved in The Commission, they formed a bond through bloodshed, and Luca refused to shame the child’s father, Vinny Veramonte, who was Pietro’s son.
There will be no shame amongst the famiglia.
They degraded and humiliated my family for years, and no one ever thought baby Iris would remember such.
Somethings you never forget.
The horrific cries of Baba.
When my virginity was sold off to Morpheus, I didn’t cry because of her wails.
When my mother shipped me off to Atticus Huit, I didn’t cry because of her wails.
When I endured the initiation of a dandelion, I didn’t cry because of her wails.
When I was brutally stalked and raped, I didn’t cry because of her wails.
When I was the bachelor party pass-around-favor-of-the-night, I didn’t cry because of her wails.
I didn’t cry…
…real tears…
until I met Salvatore Raniero.
Because he carried me just as Luca had.
And that is the reason I cannot be with Sal any longer. The Arrangement was more than just a pact for no more offspring. It was a treaty to align the Raniero and Nakamura lines, built to bridge the gap because Luca understood how evil the hatred was.
Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4) Page 81
