by Laikyn Meng
“I am no thief, Dante.” She carries herself so poised, hands behind her back. Confident like the world could never shake her mindset loose. Not like the way it did to mine.
“Right, just a traitor. You turned my sister against me. Gave me bad readings on the odds. You set me up to fail! Probably rigged the whole thing. I am no fool; I know what type of woman you are.” I jump down to my stomach and start swiping my hand under the couch.
“Dante, do you know what they call your condition?” So fucking calm, where are my goddamn drugs?
“Addiction, yes, thank you. I have been to all the meetings and prayer groups. Now, if you will excuse me, I am busy.”
“They call it a narcissistic personality disorder.”
“What? I don’t have a disorder; you have a disorder.” Her comment stops me, and I don’t know how to react. “Wait, like bipolar or schizophrenia?”
“No, it’s worse. You are just an asshole.” Leonie mutters the last word, and I can feel how low she thinks of me. But if it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t have a chance in hell of being a queen.
“Think you are hilarious with your diagnosis. Didn’t know you went to medical school?” At this point, I am clawing out my hair and yanking on the strands.
I look around my room, picture frames hanging sideways, carpet stained with I don’t know what fluid.
“Roulette is looking for you.” She leaves the room, and I know what it means.
Fuck, this can’t be happening. Not now, not after everything. We came from the gutter, and we promised each other glory. This wouldn’t have happened if Knox didn’t win so much. He was a weasel in our kingdom, and now his daughter was playing the wizard.
This is all their fault, every single one of those women my sister brought into our crew, slowly pushing me away. Forcing me out to fend on my own.
“This is all your fault!” I scream it, and I rush to the door and find Leonie down the hallway. I corner her, I press her against the wall, and she is so small I think I could squash her like a bug.
She is nothing.
“You are the reason.” I point a pudgy, shaking finger in her face. She looks at it and knows I am withdrawing, and I move it away because I don’t want her to think I am weak.
But I hear her boyfriend arrive and try to break this up. Then a few of the Sonny boys and Knox. Finally, Roulette, my only sibling, and my sister, arrives.
Everyone holds guns up; most of them are on me. For some reason, I am calm; there is no noise. I know this is it; out the corner of my eye, Roulette gives Knox a nod. There is no part in their conversation that I am aware of.
It isn’t until I am lying on my back, with the last image of Roulette standing over me.
My eyes grow dim, and I become a being that doesn’t belong here. No longer a physical state, I am intimidated by the warmth and wandering light greeting me.
Our mother and father are not here; I think of my sister back where she is. I mourn the girl I couldn’t save, who always had to save me.
In our youth, I always thought the villains in our lives were our parents. I didn’t realize I could be the villain in my own story.
Chapter 16
Roulette
Jordan betrayed me.
But not in the way you would assume. Sure, he saw an opportunity, one we led him to believe. He took the easy way out, and he thought it would make him survive longer than was allowed.
“We’re in position, Empress.” The sound comes over the speaker.
I contemplate what I have told my team. To kill, to execute, to eliminate Jordan from our lives for good. But there is a part of me that wonders if he was just a victim in my game.
I look down at the newspaper. A luxury I demand to keep current in my presence. A real estate tycoon is suing a single mother of 2 for stopping too abrasively at a stop light, where he was forced to hit the rear end of her car; both children are in critical care at South Saints hospital. Alcohol was a factor for the accuser who is pursuing charges. Breath analyzer on scene says he was 2x the legal limit.
The mother was treated with a neck injury and released to wait with her children, as one's recovery is unknown.
The woman may be facing several hundred thousand dollars in fees and damages if this goes to trial.
“Who is staffed at South Saints Hospital today?”
“Roulette, did you hear what I said?” Marley tries to interfere with my heroic tendencies.
“Tell Journee I will cover their medical bills and pay the retainer for the victim’s case.”
Lights sparkle outside my office window. I don’t turn around as I hear the door click open. I see Marley’s reflection; he tells the men to stand down for the night.
“I’m not having second thoughts.”
Marley pushes me against my desk, and I lay back, expecting he will have a midnight snack.
He hovers over me, kisses just once on my lips as we stare into the other’s eyes—his body presses on top of mine. I feel the heat and need increase; I don’t engage and tempt it to grow.
Another slow and sensual kiss is on my mouth. This time I close my eyes and remember what a tender being felt like.
I don’t utter his name with need. I just allow myself to feel the sensation of being seen. My fingers roam over his stubble on his growing beard. He pets my hair, thumbs my cheek, and kisses me again with purpose.
It isn’t a sweet scene between lovers. His lips are a distraction from a friend who cares. I know he loves a mystery woman, and he understands I love a man who I pretend not to know.
This time, he does whisper, “it will be okay.” And I am scared enough to believe him.
LEONIE IS PRESSED AGAINST the wall, her toes at the tippy top level. Dante is in front of her holding her hostage. Even now, he knows he has run out of chances. His chest rises rapidly, and I can tell by the way his hand shakes he is strung out.
When I get to the hallway, Knox has his gun pulled; Leonie’s boyfriend stands beside her. I try to make sense of the situation. But nothing seems clear right now. It begins to leave me uneasy. I panic, though I stare straight at him; I can’t save him anymore.
He won’t be the last one I have left. I’ll have Roman, but Dante has been my other half for too long, as long as bloodlines go.
“Knox.” But it isn’t a plea; it is an understanding and aims to kill as he shoots. I watch my brother fall to the floor. The sound echoes, and I remind myself, it is just another bullet in another body.
I try not to beg for his soul to stay in his body; I pretend it doesn’t hurt me as I look away. Even the tears that want to grieve immediately, I don’t let them, because I knew it had to be done.
I blink; Dante and I are children playing in a garden. Then we are alone entering a foreign country. I blink, and we step off a bus to the promised land. I blink again as Knox holds his gun, fires 3 bullets into my only brother.
I blink again and remind myself, it's not personal; it's just business.
Knox brought Roman back, and I forgive Knox for taking the one person who was always by my side. The drugs were not kind to Dante. They controlled him, and he lost the ability to think correctly.
I shoot the balloons above Knox's head when he complains about his daughter's wedding decorations. I numb myself from feeling sorry for my loss because, any time I do, the little voice says, “you wanted this, didn't you? You wanted this, and this is the price you must pay.”
But after a while, the voice fades, and I wonder why I do it; what is the reward?
After the festivities and Leonie’s wedding, I go into my office, lock the door, and let the rampage leave me wrecked.
My picture frames are the first to get smashed; the glass reflects diamonds as it explodes. I bring out Dante’s knife, and I stab the couch where he would sit and smoke a cigar.
But it’s all too much, and soon I am on my knees praying to a foreign God, begging to bring him back. I rush into the feeling of oblivion.
“Roulette? Roul
ette?” I cover my ears, avoiding Dante’s voice. The same voice that would comfort my nightmares as a child. I shake my head, pretending he was fair to me. His stupid hiccup of a laugh bothers me. The way his chin turned away when he was lying.
I don’t remind myself he didn’t reach out to me to save him. It was the only acceptance in his dead eyes that makes me flinch in understanding. He wanted out; he wanted to be free.
A knock on the door has me flinging a bullet in the wall, my aim unsteady as I tremble.
Marley walks in, strides over to me. I back up and fall to the ground next to the windows.
“Dante’s dead; my brother is gone.”
“I heard.” He crouches down next to me.
“Why do you care? You never liked him.” I rub the snot from my nose off with my palm.
“No, I never did like him.” Marley sits and pulls me close to his body. He doesn’t tell me he loves me, that everything will be okay, this is for the best speech.
We sit in silence because maybe this is the first time we know that we aren’t immortal. We can’t continue to live when false confidence is protecting us. It isn’t bulletproof.
I let a few more tears fall from my eyes as I stare up at the ceiling.
“Goodbye, brother.” Letting my head fall on Marley’s shoulder.
The next morning is harder to face.
Holding down the button for my assistant. “Max, please bring Cassian to my office as soon as possible.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Max replies without hesitation. I assume even if Cassie was in Aruba, he would drag her back because they fear what might happen to them if they fail.
My leather office chair is the only thing left that is not destroyed.
“Roulette, I have Cassian here for you.” He knocks, opens the door, and she dances into the disaster.
“Wow, what happened here?” She smiles, and her red curls float around her.
“Dante was executed last evening. I am very sorry for your loss. However, while you remain at the Chicago Leo, you will be taken care of. Your position at Curious will remain. You and Syron are welcome to stay as long as you want. But for the time being, it might be best to take a break.” My knuckles interlock as I deliver the news.
Cassie looks around the room at the casualty of my expression. Her eyebrows pinch together, and I can’t help but to agree with her confusion. But then she is slow to nod and leave the room.
I figure we are getting too deep, and I don’t know right now who I can pass the torch over to if I decide to step down. But I know there has to be a strategy in place.
“Roman, we need an exit plan.” We formulate, making Jordan the secret mastermind. Even Knox believes the sham.
Jordan wanted what I told him he couldn’t have. Poor baby wanted the status, the manpower. But I was all too greedy to give up my guise. Well, at least for a little while until we even the odds.
Dante will be forgotten by everyone in this hotel by the end of the month. The tables will be clean again; Curious will have wealthy men instead of his druggy friends.
I blame only him.
Even when I saw him take his first hit of a blunt, Dante’s eyes changed. It was like he found his medicine for all the open wounds. My brother was not the perfect addict. Maybe if he were to stick to pills, he could have been a functioning one. But there are dark tales we do not repeat to each other or ourselves.
Dante felt guilty about most of them, while I figured I would make the monsters go away. I fought my demons, and they turned and ran. They feared me because I never let them know how scared I was.
Girls back home were not anything worth being claimed. I knew eventually I would end up with someone like my father who thought abuse was a sport.
But Dante and I learned new ways of torture; we put his bruises to shame.
Every little girl must grow up some time; she has to remove herself from the fantasy that someone will save her. Too bad they don’t teach boys that, or maybe my brother would still be alive. Or perhaps he would have learned how to cry.
Chapter 17
Roulette
Things quiet down; Dante seemed to be the glitch, the virus in our business. We’ve been raking in more than we ever have before.
I am tired. The kind of exhaustion that leaves you with remorse and recovery. A depression that doesn’t cover me in sadness, but with anger. I’m used to the poker face that I give every person. Shoulders back, breasts out, no shame for the game I’m running now.
I’ve never been good at being a pawn. When I had the means, I decided to purchase the players to become a game master.
Karma is very predictable; you can always count on her.
“Mom, did you grow up here?” We reach the outskirts of Broken Axe, Oklahoma.
“No, your dad is from Texas. My brother and I were born in Armenia, like Roman.”
“So where are we headed then?”
“Where I learned to fly and follow my heart.”
“In a prison?” His disapproval is noted.
“Beyond the prison.” Beyond the prison is a man that I’ve longed to reconnect with. Though we both have aged, there is still that immature bond that wants to believe we can be together forever.
Even villains believe in happily ever after.
“Mom, are you sure this is the place?” My son leans over, concern etched on his face for me.
“We can no longer run from what destiny decided.” The car stops, and I am not eager to exit. Syron moves along and runs to find the bathroom. Killian follows her, always her protector.
I introduce Patch to Killian, and for once, I hold my breath, wanting some cosmic energy to be restored.
“I never thought I would be here.” Patch grabs my hand and kisses it.
“Me either.” His delicate touch makes me quiver.
My phone rings, and I think I will ignore it this one time. But it keeps buzzing, and Patch nods to answer it.
“Roulette, True needs you.” Denver sends me the location; I excuse myself and tell my loved ones I will be back shortly.
I wasn’t expecting a cemetery, but Marley checks again and reassures me this is the place. True is standing, looking down at a slab of stone.
“What happened, who died?”
“My daughter.”
It was only recently that True allowed herself to come home. To reconnect with her family. She didn’t share much about them, but I knew secrets that resonant tend to hurt the worst.
We stand next to each other until I can’t take it anymore. Until I know, there is a right and wrong in my life I need to separate.
“I saw you on the cameras the day you were taken. Let’s pretend I feel guilty. But a part of me felt bad they took you. I’ve kept track of you, where you got transferred along the way. I just wanted you to know I saw you that day, True. I know your husband didn’t stop them. I’m sorry I didn’t either.” True doesn’t move; she hears me even as she zones out the rest of the world.
Her youngest child passed away while she was trafficked. I don’t embrace her, even as we stand looking down at the young girl’s grave. This is not my territory to care. To concern myself with the moods of others. But these people have stuck by me, perfected loyalty at its finest. And I realize it wouldn’t be so terrible if I showed them the same kindness.
I don’t try and imagine how she feels or what she is going through. I take a seat on a headstone a few rows down, watching her grieve. Denver doesn’t leave her side. But I know there is nothing either of us can do to lessen the burden.
I bring out my phone and message Killian. I tell him I love him, and he replies he knows.
I don’t think I ever believed I would become a mother. Honestly, I didn’t expect to be alive this long. We were always waiting for the balance of life to hit reset.
Kick us out on our ass and remove us from our throne.
“Roman.”
“Roulette, is there a reason I am sitting in your office surrounded by your shadows, and y
ou are not here?” I loved my cousin’s voice. It was deep and struggled with the English dialect.
“It seems we missed a funeral and are paying our respects.”
“Did you kill someone?”
“Not this time.” I hear a bag crinkle over the phone. “Don’t you dare steal my favorite chips! I will cut off your hands, cousin.”
Denver turns around and glares at me, and I move away further with my phone call. Down the row of headstones, carved with names of people who loved something.
“Roman, do you ever feel bad for what we did?” I finger over the bark on the pine trees. Getting out of the sun to shade myself.
“Feeling nostalgic?”
“Just in a position to feel is all.”
“No, I don’t. If it wasn’t for them, it would have been us. We make the same choices every day, Roulette. All that changes are the faces and names we punish.” He cracks his knuckles and exhales.
“Do you love Knox?” It isn’t my place to ask something so personal. The question of love is never brought up. Not because we don’t know how to answer, it is merely because we don’t know if it is pure.
“Knox is the type of person who looks at you and sees you. He gives you his attention; he wants to know the words out of your mouth. Did you know he wrote me? After I got deported, Knox sent me letters. They didn’t come until a few years after, but somehow, he found me.”
“I did not know that.”
“Why would some pretty American boy who had everything care about me? I am nothing, a nobody. Not good enough for our family’s last name.”
“Our last name is not good enough for us now.”
“They should see us, our parents. They should be begging at our feet, the same way they made us. They should see what greatness we have obtained without them.” My uncle, Roman’s father, was not kind either.
“I hope they burn in hell at the thought of them.”
“Pretty sure we made them burn, cousin.” We let out a small laugh, and I keep an eye on True and Denver.
“Tell me about home; it couldn’t have been all bad.” But I promise myself I know better because, sometimes all you have is bad. There is hardly ever good when we seek out the disappointments.
