Creole Kingpin

by Meghan March

  Once inside the office, I pause while Señor Sycamore pats me down. “Gun and knife are in my purse,” I tell him, holding the bag out in front of me.

  He nods as he takes it and sets it on the desk. “It’ll be here when he’s done with you.”

  “You can keep the gun and knife, but I’d like my bag back.”

  Señor Sycamore shakes his head. “You don’t need it.”

  I roll my eyes before I can think better of it. That’s when the bookcase slides to the side, revealing a set of dimly lit stairs.

  When I don’t move immediately, he points a thick, branch-like index finger at it. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

  “I’m going. I’m going.” I shoot him a final glance before walking through the previously hidden doorway. I used to think this shit was cool, but now it’s tedious.

  When I’m halfway up the stairs, the bookcase slides shut, leaving me alone in pools of light coming from the sconces on the wood-paneled walls.

  No escort? That’s new.

  Then again, what concern would Mount have about me doing a damn thing to cause trouble? He knows where my loyalty lies.

  I reach the top of the stairs and study the row of doors along the side.

  “Now where’s he at?” I mumble as I keep walking.

  Mount changes it up, and I don’t know if he’s behind door number one, two, or three.

  Before I have to guess and start trying knobs, the one at the very end of the hall opens and the tall, dark, and dangerous man I’ve come here to meet stands there in a suit.

  “I appreciate you coming.”

  I smile in response, rather than saying what I’m thinking. Like I had any choice after I got the summons.

  When Mount waves his arm into the room, I stride forward and enter his infamous library. As soon as he shuts the door behind us, the room practically vibrates with the waves of power rolling off the man.

  From past experience, I recall the big fireplace in the middle of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves spins around, leading to a maze of hallways that eventually connects to Mount and Keira’s private apartments, but I have a feeling that’s not where we’re going.

  Confirming my suspicion, Mount motions toward one of the leather chairs. “Sit. We need to talk.”

  “Yes, sir.” My show of respect doesn’t come from a place of fear, but it’s real all the same. I owe this man a lot for what he’s done for me.

  While I’m settling into the seat, he crosses to the sideboard and pours amber liquor into two glasses without asking me what I want. It’s fine, because I know he’s got whatever top-shelf Seven Sinners whiskey Keira has sampled lately.

  Mount returns to the chairs and sits in the one beside mine before offering me the drink. I take it, hoping it’s a good sign that he didn’t drag me through the corridors to his other office—the Spartan one where the most serious business goes down.

  “Thank you.”

  I’m dying to ask why he summoned me here, but Mount swirls his whiskey in his glass before taking a sip.

  “You’re welcome,” he says as he crosses an ankle over his knee. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and I’ll bet he’s thinking of Keira as he swallows.

  I’ve never seen a woman have such an effect on a man. That’s why I risked so much on them being perfect for each other. And I was right. Then again, I’m rarely wrong when it comes to things like that.

  At least, with respect to other people. I have absolutely no sense when it comes to men for myself. Never have. Probably never will.

  I’m thinking my favorite thought—that I should swear them off completely—when Mount finally speaks again.

  “You’ve got trouble.”

  My mind tears away from my ruminations, and I turn to stare at him. “What kind of trouble?”

  “The Feds are surveilling the house.”

  I set my whiskey on the table between us and shift in my seat to face him. We both know I don’t technically own the house he’s talking about anymore, but I still consider the women living in it to be my responsibility. “Well, fuck. Why?”

  “Alberto Brandon.”

  I flip through my mental black book until a face and a bio come to mind. “Fifties. Prefers young blondes over his wife. Likes being called Daddy. Always flashed a lot of cash. Why are the Feds looking into him?”

  Mount tastes his whiskey again before replying. “He’s been moving a lot of money around in ways that particularly interest them, except they can’t seem to find him. He’s been MIA, and now his money is too. Hence, their interest in the house.”

  “Fuck,” I whisper this time. “Do you think they’ll bust it?”

  He replies with a lift of his shoulders, as if he’s not willing to say I don’t know out loud.

  I release a rush of breath and jam my fingers into my hair. “I’ll tell Desiree. She’ll have to be careful until the heat’s gone.”

  When I mention the name of the girl who is buying the place from me through a bond for deed, Mount shakes his head.

  “Not just careful. She needs to relocate for a while if you don’t want her exposed.”

  “Shit. That bad?”

  Mount’s expression never changes. “Would I be telling you this if it wasn’t?”

  Slightly mortified, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Of course not. You wouldn’t waste your time. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll help Desiree deal with it.”

  “Good.”

  When Mount doesn’t say more, I study him for a beat. “Is that all, sir?”

  He meets my gaze for a long moment. “For now.”

  Even though I want to hug my arms around my middle so damn bad, I rise with my shoulders straight and my chin held high. “Thank you. I’ll show myself out if we’re done.”

  Something unsettling flashes in his dark eyes. “Done? Not by a long shot. But you can go. Keira wants to see you.” He moves his hand and the fireplace turns, revealing his silent right-hand man who is built like a bull. “V will take you to her.”

  I rise, wishing Señor Sycamore from downstairs had let me bring my purse. But as soon as I have that thought, V lifts a hand, and I see the red leather strap dangling from his fingertips.

  Fucking creepy how they read my goddamned mind.

  There’s a knock on the door through which I entered the room only minutes ago.

  Mount meets my gaze. “That’s my next appointment. Have a good one, Magnolia.”

  The unease that’s followed me all day ramps up again as I walk toward the hidden passage. As soon as I step through it, the fireplace slowly spins. I turn toward V, but one sentence stops me cold.

  No. Not the words. The voice.

  Deep and rich with a hint of Creole flavor.

  “You’re a right hard man to find, Mount.”

  I whip around to stare through the crack that’s narrowing with every passing second and catch a glimpse of those eyes that have haunted me for fifteen years.

  “It’s been a long time, Moses. Welcome back to New Orleans. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Three

  Magnolia

  Oh. My. God.

  What in the actual fuck is happening right now?

  Moses Gaspard did not just walk into Mount’s office behind me. Did he?

  My breath catches, and my heart rate kicks up like I’ve just sprinted a hundred flights of stairs. I turn to stare at V with my mouth hanging open from the shock. “Did I just . . . Was he . . .”

  V watches me like he’s not certain what I’m about to do. That’s fine, because I sure as hell don’t know.

  Even though the man rarely speaks, I point at the fireplace and ask, “Did you just see him? Did you? Tell me I’m not crazy right now.”

  V’s gaze flicks to the fireplace and then back to my face, and I wait for him to give me a sign that I’m not hallucinating. He gives me a short nod as he hands me my purse.

  “Jesus fucking Christ. What in God’s name is going on here?”

  V does
n’t answer that question, but the little nod he gave me before was plenty.

  Moses is back.

  The memory of the eyes I thought I saw in the Quarter on my way here resurfaces. Did I enter another dimension when I woke up this morning? How is this happening now?

  Because Moses Gaspard left New Orleans a decade and a half ago and never looked back. Never called. Never wrote. Never kept the promises he made to me.

  So, why the hell is he here now? And meeting with Mount?

  V moves through the room, signaling with an arm that I should follow him, but my brain is scattered like broken Mardi Gras beads left in the gutters on Bourbon Street after a night of partying.

  What is happening right now?

  He grunts at me, clearly impatient with my lack of response to his gesture, but too damn bad. The man doesn’t understand that my past just crashed into my present with the subtlety of a Mack truck slamming into a brick wall at full speed.

  “Give me a minute, okay? Jesus.”

  He emits a low growl as I gather myself, glaring at the fucking fireplace. Goddamn Mount and all his hidey-holes and secret passages. I’m tempted to beat at that thing until I figure out how to open it back up and get the answers I’m owed.

  But do I really want to see Moses? After all this time?

  The pounding in my chest tells me I’m all too affected. I take a long, slow breath, hold it for a few beats, and release it. I repeat that again and again until V taps me on the arm.

  I whip around to look at him. “Can’t you see I’m dealing with some shit?”

  He points in the opposite direction I’m facing and finally speaks. “Keira.”

  Fuck. That’s right. He’s taking me to see Keira.

  Keira, who doesn’t know about Moses. Because I never told her. Because I never told anyone what happened between us.

  At first, I kept it to myself because I wanted to have something special that was just mine. And when he never came back or got in touch, I realized it wasn’t worth the breath to tell anyone. Because it apparently didn’t mean shit to him, so I started believing it didn’t mean shit to me either. I decided he was basically a figment of my imagination, because nothing could be that good in real life.

  As I give the fireplace one last hard look, I know something with certainty.

  Mount did this on purpose. That motherfucker.

  How could he know? I snort. That’s right. I’m forgetting that Mount knows everything.

  I haul in another breath and nod at V. “Lead the way. I’m ready. We’ll forget this little episode ever happened. Deal?”

  He lifts his chin, which I decide to take as a yes, especially since he walks away from me. I follow him, but can’t help looking over my shoulder one more time at the fireplace standing between me and the man I’m pretty sure I could strangle with my bare hands right now.

  How dare he just show up in my town after all this time like he’s welcome?

  Another thought nearly stops me in my tracks.

  Why would Moses request an audience with the king first? What does that mean? Is he staying? Asking for permission to set up shop here?

  I don’t know what Moses has done for the last fifteen years, but after the first month of him being gone, I refused to let myself look for him. I did everything I could to erase him from my memory and scrub the phantom feeling of him from my skin.

  When he didn’t come back for me, his message was loud and clear. So I threw myself into building my empire so I could have what I wanted most—freedom and power.

  To this day, I remember telling Moses how I was going to make enough money that no man could ever tell me what to do again. Short of answering Mount’s summonses, I made that happen.

  No man owns me.

  No man controls me.

  But why would Moses come back now?

  V grunts from the hallway, letting me know to keep up. I clutch my handbag to my side as I follow him through a maze, not even caring about the hidden entrances that normally fascinate me.

  When we finally reach corridors done in black, white, and gold, I know I’m getting close to Keira.

  What am I going to tell her? Am I going to tell her?

  Part of me wants to, but the other part . . .

  How do I share my secret shame? That he didn’t love me enough to come back for me. That I wasn’t worth even a phone call or a check-in from time to time. That even a gangster realized you can’t make a ho a housewife.

  Moses nearly broke me once. I won’t let him do it again. Whatever his reason for setting foot in my city, one thing is for sure—I’m not playing his game this time.

  My heart clenches, trying to make a liar out of me.

  Well, fuck that. My heart got me into trouble once, and I’m not going to let her throw my world into chaos again.

  When V opens the door leading into an airy courtyard lined with brick walls, filled with greenery and a fountain, Keira looks up from a table, where she sits next to a little dark-haired dictator who takes after both her mother and father.

  Aurora Mount is the princess of this castle. When she sees me, she lets out an earsplitting screech, her chubby arms waving in the air. Her hair, a deep auburn, sticks out in every direction, curling at the ends.

  Keira scoops her up and rises to greet me. “Clearly, we’re happy to see you.” A bright smile lights up her green eyes as she laughs.

  “And I’m always so damn happy to see you both.” My words come out sounding normal, thank God.

  I close the distance between us, reaching out to squeeze them in a hug. Then I steal the little miss, who clings to my neck with sticky fingers, making the transition from her mom to me like a monkey.

  I welcome the distraction from my thoughts as I bounce her on my hip, blocking out thoughts of the man I just saw. “What have you been doing, Rory? Keeping your mama and daddy busy?”

  Aurora offers a long-winded reply, but I only understand about ten percent of her baby talk.

  Keira translates. “She’s having snacks and they’re the best ever, and if you want some, you’re more than welcome to share them with her.”

  With Aurora’s solid body in my arms, I glance at a small plate of kiddie treats on the table and back to the baby’s chubby cheeks. “Thank you for the offer, princess. But they’re all yours.”

  She smiles at me, and some of the bad juju following me through the halls of Mount’s kingdom falls away. But not quickly enough, because Keira’s green gaze sharpens on me with a laser focus.

  “Something wrong? What did Lachlan want?”

  It’s still weird to hear her call the man I just met with Lachlan. It makes him sound almost human, and I’m not convinced he is.

  “Nothing’s wrong. He was just passing along some information.” I give her a wink.

  She should know better than to ask me to divulge anything Mount has said. If he wants her to know, he’ll tell her.

  I continue, changing the subject. “Damn, it’s good to see you, though. Shit. Wait. Goddamn it, Keira, how do you not curse in front of this adorable freaking baby?”

  Her lips press together as she studies me, which tells me I did a crap job of covering up what I was feeling by the time I walked into the courtyard. “It’s a work in progress. You sure you’re okay?”

  Her questioning tone confirms my thought. Keira may be my best friend, but we’ve always lived in two very different worlds. Hiding the truth from her is second nature to me. Short of that, I sugarcoat the shit out of most everything I tell her.

  “How could I be anything but perfect with this angel in my arms?”

  Keira’s face changes completely as she smiles at her daughter with pure adoration. “She is pretty freaking magical. Until she starts screaming, and then only her daddy can make her stop.”

  I’ve only seen Mount with Aurora once, but that’s all I needed to know without a doubt that the ruthless king of New Orleans is utterly and completely wrapped around his baby girl’s finger. It almost made my b
lack heart skip a beat, and that’s saying something.

  “I still don’t know why you don’t hate me, Ke-ke.” I don’t mean to say it, but it’s something I think about a lot. Plus, my emotions are raw as hell with all that’s happened in the last hour. Being dealt the Devil card. Meeting with the ruthless king. Catching sight of a ghost from my past.

  Keira’s smile changes, but it doesn’t fade. “How could I? Without you, I wouldn’t have everything I love most in my life.”

  Something burns behind my eyes, but there’s no way it’s tears. I don’t cry. So I swallow the stupid returning lump and shrug a shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Ke-ke. I really am.”

  I peel Aurora off my neck and Keira takes her from me, raining kisses on her face before snuggling the baby against her body.

  “Now if only we could see you this happy, Mags.”

  Fucking hell. I keep trying to turn this conversation in the direction of safe ground, but shit like this just makes me think of him.

  My heart thumps hard as the vision of those greenish-gold eyes set in that golden-tanned face flashes through my brain once more.

  Why the fuck is he here? After all this time?

  The man best not think he’s getting anywhere near me, because I don’t want a damn thing to do with him.

  “Mags?”

  I press my lips together before forcing them into a smile. “Some of us just aren’t built for that kind of happy. I’ll settle for being gorgeous, rich, and in total control of my whole life.”

  This time, Keira’s smile falters. “Do you miss Rafe?”

  My head jerks back of its own volition. “Rafe? Hell no. That motherfucker is gone forever. If he comes back, we’ll have way bigger problems to be worrying about.” I slap three painted fingertips over my lips to cover the cursing. “Shit. Crap. I’m just gonna stop talking before Rory starts dropping f-bombs and her daddy looks to me for an explanation.”

  My mess-up does the trick, because Keira laughs again.

  “He’s just as guilty of it as you. I promise he’ll never know.” She nudges the heel of my pump with her toe. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, though. What have you been doing?”