If word was to ever get out that I knew who killed my cousin Nick, all hell would break loose in the family. Sides would be taken and it would be splitsville between the Raniero and Veramonte families. Just like it was back when Campanelli used to work for Luca Raniero. Family division is a nasty beast.
While I should profess my love for Emily, it feels off and I’m not the only one who sees it. We went to morning mass and accepted eucharist with Father Altromessa. His gaze was one of concern and at the end he pulled me aside.
“Have you informed your family of Father McPhail performing your ceremony?”
“No.”
“Do you plan on it?”
“Getting married or telling them I have an Irish priest waiting in the wings to marry their only Italian son?”
“When we start making plans, I will tell them,” I replied as he clasped his hands around mine.
“Salvatore, Emily reserved the church for the rehearsal on December 24, 2018 and the wedding on December 25, 2018. She made the donation in full with your credit card.”
She fuckin what, Padre?
Peering up at Michelle, I know I have more hearts on the line than just Emily’s and mine.
And I don’t know if I have it in me to break—all of them.
We're sitting around—fat and happy—after the glorious meal. Some of Fran’s ravioli fell apart when they hit the water, but aside from that, everything looked food porn worthy. I'm sitting beside my father, holding Em’s hand, as the entire table works their way through a case of red.
It poses the question in my mind—if twenty some people can drink a dozen bottles, what in the world will it take to serve the hundreds of people at our reception? The thought gives me a headache, and just when I’ve bypassed the evening without a word being said about my impending nuptials, Emily drops the bomb.
“We've set the date!” she giddily—drunkenly—announces. “Christmas next year!”
Correction: You set the date.
I had nothing to do with it.
Of course, all the women gush and swoon while I dream of being ran over by a steamroller, scooped up by a backhoe, and my remains being tossed into the landfill for the vermin and maggots to consume. Maybe vultures will eat my carrion and fly south to deposit my innards where they belong.
I can only hope.
“I'm so excited, Emily!” Mama declares, lifting her glass. “Does your mother know?”
Oh. God. No. Don't say it.
Puhleese.
“She's away on a business trip, but I called and told her.”
No, you didn't—liar.
Or I would've known before Father Altromessa mentioned it to me.
I learn a lot from studying people, watching their body language and listening to their words. If Emily is capable of lying about this, then I have to wonder what else she would lie about. It's a fair question. And I know, my hands aren't clean, but she didn't even blink.
I'm either marrying the best mafia wife ever or the absolute worst depending on how I play my cards.
“You two are so cute together,” Stella marvels as Cat gives a sympathetic blink in my direction. She knows the whole truth.
My phone buzzes on my hip. I glance down to see Prissy Pants and know I must take the call. “Excuse me for a moment.”
I kiss Emily and head outside. I walk to the street with Cat following. “Raniero.”
“We have a problem,” Jaid says, panicked. “Georgia ran the background check on Flouncy a few months ago, and she never noticed anything unusual. But I just busted an entire shipment of snuff films and underage porn with connections back to Stone O’Rourke.”
I fidget with my lighter, making sparks in the night. “What do you need?”
“It's not what I need; it's what I think you need,” she informs, smoking. “You need to get units on the ground up there like yesterday, Sal. Whatever is going on is big…bigger than anything we've ever busted.”
Pacing in front of my parent's house, I think Jaid may just be paranoid. If there was a big ring in PacWest, then The Brethren would have to be involved in it somehow, or they would at least know about it. They know how The Unholy feel about trafficking and promised to steer clear of it.
“I'll send Zoe up.”
She sighs with disappointment, knowing it should've been her. Zoe took Jaid’s job when she abandoned my team—the truth hurts—but that is what happened. She whispers, “Okay,” and hangs up.
Cat sees the discouraged look on my face. “You okay, lil bro?”
“No, I’m not okay,” I say, moving closer to try and keep my voice down. “I’m marrying a girl I’m not in love with. Meanwhile, there are two girls I am in love with, out in the world without a safety net.”
“You need to stop the bizarre collection with Serene’s daughters; you do not need to catch all of them,” she politely points out as I flip her off. “Thank God Kade is a baby! So, you really only have one.”
“No safety net…”
“They aren’t trapeze artists, Sal,” she snarks. “I think you are underestimating the power of the pussy. And that—for a guy like you—is deadly. Think about what you are saying.”
I stroke my beard between my thumb and forefinger as I glance at the broken glass by the curb sparkling under the light post. “Iris doesn’t need me.”
“Iris needs you for a different meatier reason than your catching ability,” she unapologetically voices her opinion. “This isn’t 1910. We’re tougher than you think. We always were, but I’m not going to stand here and listen to my brother’s narrow skewed-up version of gender roles. If women want to fuck, we do. And if we want to kill, we can do that, too. Don’t get lost in some sort of time warped version of how our father thinks just because you’re standing beside him every day. You are better than that. Give these girls some fucking cred.”
“You don’t understand,” I argue, using those arms. “I spend half of my time listening to these cases from Georgia where the girls are brutally raped and murdered.”
“And one day—mark my word—you’re going to have the case of a lifetime with the pistol slinger of a girl who fought through hell to get her way back. And that,” she passionately says, lifting her finger. “Will be the case to change your entire world.”
“You think I should forgive Amber?”
“I think Amber is a fucking logistical nightmare and if you bring her back to The Unholy, I am going to kick you in the nuts.”
I laugh and run my hands over my head as my phone buzzes again. “Raniero.”
“It’s Q,” Father Quinn says. “I can’t talk long, but whatever Saint did, pissed the wrong people off. Nissa told Handcock of The Unholy offer to buyout. She met with Javi Neves to discuss long-term developments with Boudreaux and Cinco in Gennaro turf. They are heading to Chicago and you need to stop her—now.”
“Shit! Dom!”
“And Sal…my girls did some digging…”
“Wait,” I say in a state of disbelief. “You have girls—like nuns?”
“No, you twit,” Quinn remarks. “Like Sparkle and Shine.”
I shake my head. “… The strippers from Gina’s?”
“Salvatore, stop!” he scolds with a huff. “Listen to me, they broke into her house and found documentation concerning Diablo Cruz. She has been in contact with Immortal and they offered her hush money to keep it quiet.”
“Motherfuck!”
“I need to go.”
“Where are you?” I ask.
“I’m in Houston at a biker rally,” he informs as my work phone buzzes. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
I glance at Cat and rhetorically ask, “Why the hell is Father Quinn at a biker rally?”
“Hot chics.” She shrugs.
I glance at the screen with the ominous message from Jaid.
Be careful who you trust.
41
Q is for Queen
The Master’s Ride with His Butter
fly
With her arm locked in mine, we walk the gardens surrounding the Lotus fortress, perhaps castle is a more apt description. The Nakamura palace is magnificent and regal with scalloped roofs and ornate gold detailing.
“I remember coming here as a child when it all seemed so enormous,” Iris mentions as we meander. “I always knew who I was, but I never imagined people would want to hurt me. Those closest to me were always the most dangerous. My mother sold the reality of my mind off like she had some right to it, so many people believed I belonged to them. I came here to declare my freedom from Sal, Deacon.”
“Would you be happy if I married you?”
“You should rephrase the question.”
I stop and look at her. “How so?”
With a lighthearted smile, she corrects, “Would I be happier if I married you?”
“And would you?”
Resuming our exploration, she whispers, “I don’t know. Sal is complicated.”
“Sal is completely dedicated to you.”
She lays her hand on my arm and giggles, “Are you not?”
“I am, but not in the same way…”
“Yours is healthier,” she informs, knowing Sal’s addiction borderlines on a lethal overdose. “If something happens to me, he will lose it.”
“I know,” I agree as we wander to the koi pond and stop. “But you cannot change his passion for you.”
“It scares me,” she admits, sitting on the bench. “His need to control. His focus to outplay. In some ways, it is brilliantly magical. But if things go wrong, we’re going to have to learn how to deal with that.”
“That happens in any relationship,” I remind.
“There is a lot on the line in this one,” she confides, showing the darkest parts of her soul to me. Her fears are real and founded as I try to not belittle and reach a greater understanding of the dynamic. “There are two very powerful families involved.”
I stare at the colorful fish swimming near. “You want to hightail it down to the courthouse and get hitched?” I grin and she laughs and it is a good moment to relieve the tension. “I would, you know.”
“Maybe that is what Sal and I should do, just run off and elope.”
“You would regret it,” I counter, holding her hand. “I know you’re scared of the future, but his love for you is so profound. Don’t let your fear win. Trust him.”
“My grandfather would not stop talking about you at breakfast,” she enlightens as my time dwindles down. “He thinks you’re phenomenal.”
“Where is Serene?”
“Would you like to see?” she asks, lifting a brow, as my expression contorts with befuddlement. “I can take you to her.”
My fingers tighten in hers as I reluctantly say, “Yes.” We walk back to the house and the small building reserved for the staff quarters. “Where are we going?”
“Serene came to work, Deacon,” she whispers as we trod through the kitchen. She steals a strawberry out of a large silver bowl.
“Queen leniencies?”
She snickers, “You could say that. I have certain privileges.”
“Is stealing strawberries from the familial kitchen listed on your contract?”
“Might as well be,” she says, taking the skeleton key from her pocket and opening the rickety door to the cellar. We take the steps down, past the food reserves and extra storage to a door in the back. She places her thumb on the digital reader which unlocks the iris scanner and slightly bends as the machine takes the biometric key from her eye. The mechanics of the door unlock with a trickling thud.
“Holy shit,” I mumble.
“We don’t mess around.”
“Sal would be impressed.”
She smirks. “I know.”
We walk down another staircase to a gated door where she punches in her code—042990—Sal’s birthday. The door slides open, revealing the Goro gang tethered to the walls by thick chains, and sitting at a desk—the incomparable Mistress Serene. She stands up in full Dominatrix gear—black corset and leather shorts, thigh high stiletto boots, and the stare of a woman not to be messed with.
“Oh, my fuck…”
“Welcome to the Lotus dungeon, Deacon.”
“You have all of them—Satoru, Takeo, Orochi, and Daisuke—captured.”
“Yes,” she admits as Serene stalks closer. “And now I have you.”
“Iris... You can’t do this…”
“I cannot trust that you won’t tell Sal the things we have spoken about Deacon,” Iris chastises as the brutal reality speaks volumes about placement. “You lied to me about your phone.”
“I’m sorry,” I plead. “But I’m not staying here.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Serene admonishes. “You will be kept until Iris decides otherwise.”
“Iris… please,” I beg, kneeling. “Don’t do this to Sal. I’m the only one keeping his head above the water.”
“You’ll stay for the next few days,” she coldly instructs. “I will determine then if you can leave.”
And with a whoosh of her hair, the Queen leaves my ass in the dungeon of her castle with the red-haired siren I fear the most.
In the small walled cell off of the main room where the Goro gang reside, I wake with my arms cuffed to the iron links. I never knew Iris’ declaration of freedom would equal my enslavement, but it is for that exact reason, I have no fear. She will not kill me. Serene will punish me, but I will survive for one reason alone—Sal.
He is my saving grace in the Lotus cellar.
I hear the rustling of keys outside the door as Serene appears. She closes the door with a kick back by the pad of her boot. “I’m sorry.”
“You must understand something, Cruz.”
“This trip was about trust,” she whispers, easing closer. My long bangs fall to the sides of my face. “This trip was about Iris finding redemption in punishing the Goro gang.”
“They’re going to come after her now,” I mention, meeting her gaze. “And you put that target on her back.”
“They may not get that chance after The Chairman determines their value.”
“You sound like you’re selling them off to the highest bidder.”
“We’ve considered it,” she seethes as I grin. “But what do I do with you?”
“If Nico finds out you’ve done this…”
She cackles. “Nicky will get so turned on; he’ll go on a shoe shopping spree.”
Taking her phone, she snaps several pictures. “Please don’t send them to Sal.”
“Because you are afraid of what he’ll do?”
“No,” I mutter, tossing my head. “Because he’ll see how happy I am.”
She slides closer and runs her nails over my lips. “You like the bottom, don’t you?”
“Under the right person,” I say, glancing up. “I do.”
She moves closer, mere inches from my lips. “And am I the right woman, Deacon?”
“Yes…Mistress.”
“Ooooh!” Her fingers trail over my bare chest, past my navel, and cup around my hardened shaft. “And you are happy like this…”
“I like to provide.”
“You like Iris too, don’t you?”
“I love Iris,” I confess, keeping my eyes on hers. “And I love Sal.”
“If you had to choose,” Serene questions, rubbing her palm over my dick. “Who would it be?”
I refuse to answer the question. “I’m not capable of that decision.”
Setting her phone on the table, she pulls the whip from her belt. “You know Sal always enjoys the pain.”
“Sal is a masochist.”
“You’re not though,” she says, analyzing me. “You’re pure submissive for the right top. And that’s a dangerous place when you don’t like the pain, isn’t it?”
She cracks the whip against the floor and I jump. “It isn’t that I don’t like it. I just don’t welcome it like he does.”
“This is going to hurt unless yo
u pick a side.” She throws it again to curl the tip near my foot. “Answer me, Deacon.”
“I choose you.”
Her head tilts with the surprise response. “… Me?”
“Yes,” I reply, putting on my best poker face. “If you go with Iris, so will I.”
“I don’t believe you,” she hisses, unlacing her corset. I note the white pads inside.
“You’re still breast feeding Kade.”
“Yes, and Nico.”
God, this is so fucked.
Stepping closer, she unlocks the shackles from my wrists. I consider overpowering her, but that will only earn a bullet in my back from one of The Chairman’s minions. “I’ve been pumping, but I’m tired of that. If you want to go home, you’re my new latch.”
“I…I can’t…”
“Oh, you can and you will or you won’t see Sal for months,” she warns. “Besides, I have an entire file on the things you and Iris have done together. It would be a pity to put him through that kind of hell.”
“You’re blackmailing me.”
“I’m testing your loyalty,” she says, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. “And if you’re loyal to Iris or Sal, you won’t fuck this one up.”
“So, I suckle your tits and swallow your milk…”
“And you leave in four days as planned,” she offers as I twist away. The problem isn’t whether or not I can do as she asks, but the bond she is aiming to form between us. And I’m not sure I want to be Serene’s pet. “Or you can stay here while I spam Sal with your salacious acts.”
“Why would you do this?”
“Because Emily is my daughter and she deserves far better than what she is being given.”
Shit.
With her own loyalty torn between The Unholy and her daughter, I have no choice but to lower to my knees and submit to her insane whims. “Keep my ability to feed Kade and I will forgive you.”
“Will you forgive Sal?”
“I don’t have much choice with that,” she admits, knowing the years of their history is almost as unbreakable as the shackles. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t reprimand him. His latent behavior concerning my daughter is reason enough to punish him.”
Every Minute I Love You (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 3) Page 33
