by C. C. Gibbs
As he swung the car back out into the street, he had a quick twinge of alarm.
What if he had to collect Rosie from a place like this someday?
Jesus fuck.
He shot a glance at Nicole sleeping peacefully and softly sighed. Who would have thought?
Not that he’d given a flying fuck about the time he’d spent in clubs like Raoul’s. Of course, he hadn’t given a flying fuck about much of anything in those days. Conversely, he had to admit to a rare sense of prudery when it came to Nicole. Maybe it was just that he knew his sister wouldn’t approve, not to mention her husband would probably kill the little rat bastard in bed with her. Bottom line though, Nicole hadn’t lived the life he had; she’d had a normal childhood. Raoul’s club was way the hell too hard core for her.
She wasn’t ready for a place like that.
He drove slowly, so Nicole’s head wouldn’t slide off the head rest. He took the steep ramp into the underground garage beneath the apartment building even more slowly, to keep her from slipping down the seat. But the low roar of the powerful engine in the confined space echoed off the walls in a loud, pulsating rumble.
Nicole woke up. “Where are we?” she asked in a wispy voice, like she was a thousand miles away.
“Almost at the apartment. And don’t you dare raise your voice when we get there because the children are sleeping.” He pulled into his parking space.
“He’s like you, Nicky.” Her voice was husky, half asleep.
“Jeez, don’t say that.” Dominic turned off the ignition. “That’s the last thing I want to hear.”
She turned her head to look at him, her eyes the same blue as his, clearer now as though returning to the world was a possibility. “I don’t mean the sex club.” She raised her hand in a small dismissive gesture. “I mean Rafe is smart and funny and he’s good to me.”
Dominic took a deep breath. “Nicole, honey, you’re so damned young. You’ll find all kinds of guys who’ll be good to you. Pick someone else.” He reached over and unsnapped her seat belt. “Now, come on. I’m taking you upstairs.” Dominic owned the building on the Île Saint-Louis, his apartment the entire top floor, the view of Notre Dame stunning. “Katherine will find some pajamas for you. And no one has to know about this. I told Katherine it was a nightclub. You ripped your dress and one of the dancers found you a robe. Unless you can think of something better.”
She shook her head. “That’s fine. Kate won’t say anything to Mom, will she?”
“There’s nothing to say. That particular nightclub was too rough. I brought you home. End of story.”
“Thanks, Nicky. I mean for not telling anyone.”
“You better thank me for getting you out of that fucking bed. Your boyfriend is bad news. Take my word for it, Nicole. You don’t know. I do. Okay?”
“Okay, Nicky.” But she’d noticed the faint vibration of the ringer on her cell phone in her small embroidered purse that had slid off the console and lay next to her hip. She looked away and smiled.
It was Rafe calling.
She knew.
Rafe slipped his phone in his pants pocket and looked up.
Simon was standing in the doorway, flanked by two bouncers who, in turn, were flanked by two of Rafe’s men. Carlos wasn’t taking any chances.
“You saw?” Rafe asked.
“Yeah, I was parked across the street. You staying or going?”
Rafe grinned. “What do you think?”
“A week ago I would have said staying. Now?” Simon shrugged and smiled. “Even the bookies won’t give you odds.”
Rafe reached for his shoes. “We’ll see.”
Simon snorted. “Fucking dreamer.”
“Speaking of dreams, we have to wake up some people,” Rafe muttered, sliding his shoes on. “I need a slew of presents by morning.”
Chapter 25
Once Nicole was in bed, Dominic kissed Kate and said, “I have a few calls to make. Go back to sleep. I’ll be in shortly.”
“You’re not calling Melanie are you?”
“No. There’s no reason for her to know about this. It was a stupid mistake”—Dominic rolled his eyes—“one of many for Nicole. I don’t want my sister upset. She thinks her children are sweet, innocent, and can do no wrong.”
“Like you with our children.”
“Yeah, well, ours are.” He smiled. “You made them for me, why wouldn’t they be perfect?”
“Sure, butter me up, but someday,” Kate said with a sliver of a nod, “you’re going to have to stop giving them everything they want.”
“No I don’t.”
The corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile. “You’re going to ruin them for the real world.”
“That’s what I’m here for, baby,” Dominic said softly. “To keep the real world at bay. Now go to bed. I’m going to give Max a call. See what he knows about this nightclub. I don’t want this incident to turn into a scandal.”
“Don’t stay up too late. The children wake early.” Dominic had never missed a breakfast with his children.
“I know. I’ll keep an eye on the clock.” He blew her a kiss. “Sleep tight.”
A short time later, Rafe walked into his house and wasn’t surprised to find Carlos seated on the stairs in his usual uniform: black jeans, black lace-up boots, and a T-shirt from some obscure Basque or African band.
Carlos lifted his chin just a fraction. “Now what?” he said mildly.
Rafe kept moving. “I apologize to Knight, then get Nicole back.” He gestured to him to follow. “I have some calls to make. After that you can bitch at me.”
Simon had come in and followed Carlos into Rafe’s office. “Get comfortable, guys,” Rafe said. “Have a drink. This’ll take a few minutes.” Grabbing a mineral water from the drinks caddy, Rafe moved to his desk, dropped into his chair, and reached for the phone.
It rang at length, then kicked to voice mail.
Rafe redialed. Twice.
“You’re persistent,” Alessandra mumbled when she finally answered. “Are you sober?”
“More or less. And this time I really apologize for waking you,” Rafe said in Italian. “Charge me for the inconvenience, but I need some gifts delivered to me before breakfast. Children’s’ gifts. I’m in Paris. A girl five, a boy two and a half. Don’t have the gifts wrapped. It’s just a gesture.”
“How big a gesture?” Alessandra had come alert, her voice crisp.
“Four or five presents each. Whatever you think children that age would like. Their mother is some incredible computer brain, so maybe something electronic for each of them. This is in the way of an apology to Dominic Knight. They’re his kids. We had a little run-in tonight. He took Nicole back to his place.”
She snorted. “He’s not going to let you get near them. I don’t mind taking your money, but he has security on top of security.”
“I’m working on that. By the way, Nicole says thank you for the clothes.”
“No, she doesn’t. I talked to Basil. She didn’t want to take them.”
“She likes them now. I can be persuasive,” he said, a smile in his voice.
“I’ve heard that,” she murmured, amused. “Didn’t you know she was Dominic’s niece?”
“No. If she mentioned it, I didn’t hear it.”
“So tonight he came to save his niece from the notorious Rafe Contini. Where were you?”
“The Chandelier Club.”
“Could have been worse.”
“That’s what I thought, but apparently he’s become a fucking saint. Or hypocrite.”
“Or just protective of his niece. Men make those kinds of distinctions.”
“Whatever. His female classification system’s not my problem. Nicole doesn’t want to be at his place. She’s been texting me. So find me something his kids will like. Diplomats always bring gifts, right? No later than nine thirty. Now, I still have some calls to make, so I gotta go. Thanks, Alessandra, you’re my savior. Ciao.”
Leaning back in his chair, Rafe opened his arms wide and smiled at Carlos, who was sitting across the desk from him in a high-backed tapestry chair, his fingers lightly stroking the lion heads carved on the chair arms. “Hit me. Once you’re finished telling me to cut her loose, I have to call Gina.” A small lift of his brows. “So how did I step outside the lines?”
“Irrelevant,” Carlos said, not prickly or urgent, just moving on. “We’re on damage control now. First, you should let her go. Seriously. No joke. Send the lady a nice gift and a thank-you—even write it yourself if she matters more than the others. But she’s in the way. You have too much going on right now with Ganz’s war on the horizon. You don’t have time for fucking.”
“I’ll make time. And it’s not just that. It’s”—a slow headshake—“different and strange and I don’t know… a revelation.”
“Whatever it is, you’ll be putting her in danger. Knight’s not going to like that.”
“He won’t know.”
“He’ll know. He’s on the phone right now checking out every detail of your life down to your dick size. He protects his own—without mercy. A few years ago, when the Balkan Mafia tried to mess with him, they lost so many men they gave up; when he and his boys got caught in a firefight in Angola they all came out alive—which is more than you could say for the other side. The two big time bankers in Singapore he personally threatened are still shitting their pants. He’s not someone you want to fuck with.”
A flash of impatience in amber eyes. “You think I give a damn about his power? You think I can’t push back just as hard? Jesus Christ, Carlos, how the hell do you think I stayed alive until you showed up? I took care of myself, my mother too, okay? So don’t give me any shit about how Dominic Knight can take me down. He can’t.”
“Just be sensible. That’s all I’m saying. This lady won’t be around long.”
“We’re engaged.”
“Jesus. Are you high?”
Rafe grimaced. “I wish I had that excuse.” He blew out a breath. “Let’s just say I’m not ready to let her go.” He slid down on his spine, sighed, looked up from under his lashes, held a finger up. “I’m going to try to explain something, so just listen.” He kept his voice even, as though the undercurrent of emotion was so strong he had to fight against it. “You know those video game images or fantasy stories where a band of men, hunters, warriors, are traveling across a barren landscape—some gray, endless dystopia? Anyway, I have this picture in my head where I come up on a single flower blooming in this vast wasteland of dark skies and gathering clouds. The flower is blue, delicate, and fragile, and I just want to stand there for a few minutes and take in the rare beauty. So I’m going to just stop and look, drink in the goddamn perfection for a few minutes. Okay? I’ll start walking again when I have to, when staying longer will risk having the flower trampled by my enemies. But till then we have enough men to protect Nicole.” He looked up. “I know what we’re up against. She’ll have to leave soon.”
Carlos nodded. “A week, ten days at the most—maybe two weeks if Zou has to protect his flank before he attacks. After Ganz’s defection, he’s got other enemies besides us. So this time he’s not going to stop until someone above his pay grade decides it’s not worth losing another man or we manage to cut off the head and the monster dies.”
“Or we do.”
“Yeah.”
Having survived years of punitive emotional and physical trials, Rafe viewed the world with a certain fatalism. You did all you could until that option was gone. “Mother and Anton are competent,” he said, shrugging off extermination. “The business will be fine. And Anton can protect Mother.” Both men knew Anton’s background; neither were naïve about his capabilities. Rafe shoved himself upright in his chair. “So first things first—total security for Nicole. No half measures.” He smiled faintly. “You taught me well.”
“You were in charge of your life long before I showed up. I’d never seen such an accomplished and aware twelve-year-old.”
“Survival.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Rafe glanced at his watch. “So everything clear then?”
“One last thing. Shanghai’s going to be the mother of all mothers. You know that, right?”
“They have been for a while. We could have lost a fortune in R and D a dozen times in the last few years. Except for Ganz. It’s time to pay him back.”
“You’ve been paying him.”
“This is different. They killed Ganz’s father. Ganz loved him.” Rafe’s head came up a fraction and he held Carlos’s gaze full on. “I envy the feeling.”
A couple seconds stare back, then a nod. “Okay. But if you get Nicole back from Knight, you can’t stay here. It’s too hard to defend.”
“We’ll go to Split.”
“ASAP.”
“Yes.” Rafe reached for the phone. “If Gina can get me in, I’ll explain to Knight that he’s still the lead wolf, I mean him no disrespect, and when he’s smiling again, Nicole and I will leave. See that a plane’s ready.”
Both eyebrows up, a lighter tone. “You’re a spoiled shit,” Carlos said. “He’s going to see right through that.”
“Yeah, I know.” Rafe grinned. “That’s when I tell him he’s right and we start talking. And admit it—without me to manage you’d be bored out of your mind. Chasing women and gambling gets old and you know it.”
“Did I ever say I was tired of either?”
“You’re an adrenaline junkie. Too much tail and cards gets monotonous. You fucking need me to feed your high.”
Carlos came to his feet and cracked a smile. “Sometimes—maybe. Keep in touch. I’m going to send enough troops to Split to secure the place.”
After Carlos left, Rafe shot a glance at Simon, who was lounging on the sofa, a drink resting on his chest. “No friendly advice?”
“Fuck no. If we’re going to Split, my life is golden.”
“Do you mind sticking around? I’ll need a ride in a few hours. Take a nap, I’ll wake you.”
“Will do.” Simon kicked off his shoes, set his drink aside, shut his eyes, and was sleeping two seconds later. Fighting in the hellholes of the world, he’d learned to ignore artillery that wasn’t close, find some out-of-the-way burrow, and sleep when he could.
Familiar with Simon’s second sense about danger, knowing he was dead-to-the-world on his sofa, Rafe made his next call unconcerned he’d wake Simon.
“First, it’s not an emergency, Gina,” Rafe said quickly in French. “Relax.”
“Then why the fuck are you calling me at four in the morning?” She slid her handgun back under her pillow; an automatic reaction when she was startled. She took a breath.
“I need your help.”
“And I’m going to help you because?”
“Don’t be a bitch. This is important. Don’t forget, I’m nice to you when you want me to be.” He could hear her breathing, trying to decide whether she wanted to be nice back, whether he’d still answer her booty call if she said no.
She sighed, sat up in bed, and ran her fingers over her face. “All right. What do you want?”
“Can you get me up to Dominic Knight’s apartment? My girlfriend, his niece, is there under duress.”
“He has a private elevator, keeps to himself, real family man, never travels without his wife and children.”
“I’ve heard. You wouldn’t happen to know his elevator code.”
“I might. But I’m living in this building for a reason and I don’t want to piss him off.”
“Got it,” Rafe said. “I understand he has good security?”
“The best. No offense.”
“None taken. He probably has more enemies.”
“Not anymore,” she drawled.
Rafe exhaled. “Christ, is it on the fucking world news?”
“Only in a very specific circle. Why the hell did you poke that beast?”
“They started it. They’ve been trying to steal my R and
D for years. I’m just defending myself. Or rather Ganz is. They recently killed his father. I’m sure you heard that too.”
“An attaché at the Mongolian embassy in Paris. In broad daylight. That’s sending a message.”
“The guy in charge was too pissed at Ganz for finesse.”
“I heard Carlos’s in town. That should help. Rumor has it he finished up the last of Ganz’s trouble in Monte Carlo and the fish are eating well.”
“You hear a whole fucking lot.” A slice of a laugh. “Care to tell me how many more are on their way?”
“A wave of locusts, mon cher,” she said softly. “But you already know that.”
“Yeah. We’re working on the incoming.”
“Good idea. So when do you need the code?”
“Ten this morning.”
“Okay. So you’re going up to kiss his ring.”
“I’m hoping to avoid that. I just want to apologize.”
She laughed. “Good luck. He’s not the forgiving type. He hasn’t talked to his parents in years, although maybe I’m telling the wrong person that.”
Rafe laughed. “Christ, maybe we have something in common after all.”
“You’re both badasses, I’ll give you that. Ring me when you get here. I’ll come down and see if I can help you get your girlfriend back.”
“Thanks.” He was halfway to his goal. “You’re a sweetheart.”
“Fucking A—hearts and flowers all the way.”
She actually was a sweetheart at times, Rafe reflected, hanging up. Sexy sweet. At other times—ex-Mossad—she was a freelance lethal threat.
Rafe glanced at the time. It probably wouldn’t hurt to sleep for a couple hours. He had to be alert if he wanted to convince Knight to let him leave with Nicole.
Dominic had been on the phone with his ADC, Max, off and on for hours, gathering the information he needed—none of it encouraging. The news from Macao was fucking catastrophic.
