“I just—”
“I don’t want to talk about it any longer.” I inform my sister, cutting her off.
“Fine. Let’s talk about our lovely heart-to-heart then. Why did you think you had any hand in what happened to me?”
Motherfucker. She just had to go here, didn’t she?
“I brought Falcone down here to have a face-to-face meeting with you, Madigan. When I did that, I stirred the pot.”
Madigan rolls her eyes as she slumps down into the chair I have sitting across from my desk. “Jordan, you give yourself entirely too much credit. I was the spoon stirring the damn pot when I fled New York and called Christian for help. No one ever leaves the Falcones. Not alive anyway. It was simply a matter of time before the notorious crime family retaliated against me. I made them look like weak fools. Hell, we all did.”
“You’re right, and I’m glad you brought that up. I made a promise to the Falcone patriarch before he passed.”
Madigan draws her brows together and sits up straighter in the chair. “You simply don’t say something like that and then refrain from speaking.”
“I vowed to end his line, to kill every last Falcone so his family no longer sees the light of day. His name will mean nothing.”
“Seriously? Do you really . . . or . . . are you going to go through with it?”
I nod, not doubting it for a second. “Yes, I am. I’m not the type of man who bluffs, Madigan.”
“I give you my blessing, but there’s a catch. You leave Lupo alone. Give him another option, one where he doesn’t have to face the same fate as his brothers.”
Is she crazy? That has to be the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard of. “No, I’m not going to do that.”
“Then I’ll have no choice but to tip them off and fuck up your plan.” Madigan counters.
“You wouldn’t dare!” I grumble, slamming my hand down on my desk. They’ve caused far too much harm to our family for her to betray me in such a way.
“Lupo is a good kid. He’s not like the others. You leave him alone, Jordan. You figure out another fucking option for him. Let him start over. Make him change his name and move to a new city. You’re smart. I’m sure you can figure it out, but you don’t harm a hair on his head.”
“I’m not—”
“Do you trust me or not?” Madigan snaps.
“Yes,” I instantly reply. She’d never lead me astray.
“Good, then trust me now. When I say Lupo isn’t like the rest than believe me. Trust that I was around the family to see everyone for what they are or were in some cases. Lupo isn’t cut from the same cloth as the others. There are things about him that no one knows.”
“Except for you, obviously. What is it you aren’t sharing with me, sister?”
“Lupo isn’t his son. Lupo is his nephew.”
“I’m sorry. What?!”
“Franco has a sister named Antonette. I don’t know the story, but Franco took Lupo in when he was two days old. I only found out because Alfred let it slip, so do me a favor and don’t kill the only one in that fucked up family who isn’t like the rest. When you think about it, he isn’t a Falcone, so you can show him some sort of mercy.” Fuck. I never thought I’d hear anything like this. Madigan might not see it in the same light I am, but she just gave me a ton of leverage.
Chapter Seventeen
Sooner or later everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences
~ Robert Louis Stevenson
Lacey
A little over a week has passed since I left Jordan alone in his office with his sister. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind, but it hasn’t been awful. Oddly enough I don’t mind working for Jordan. Christian had me doing countless things, even the type of stuff interns could’ve been doing. Jordan finds a way to prioritize my time to get the important tasks done while the interns go fetch him coffee or lunch. Who knows maybe Christian was just paranoid to have a stranger bringing him food or drink.
Hell, I would be. Not only from the great risks there are with being part of the family, but the issues he and Selena had in public a couple years ago. If I remember correctly a celebrity gossip type of person went on a rampage after him. She had images of Selena working in that stingy strip club when she was trying to do everything she could to keep her childhood home. After her dad died she lost everything. She was the one who became the sole supporter of all those kids. Anyway, Summer, the news personality, had the public thinking she was an escort that Christian hired— completely killing any sense of a positive public image he had.
Even with the amount of money the Steeles have, they tried everything they could to turn the situation around. At the end of the day a majority of the public still believed there was something to hide.
Christian and Selena have kept themselves out of the public eye for the most part except when they attend charity functions or launches for the company. I can’t blame them for doing that, though. Not with how cruel the world is in this day and age.
It’s Friday evening and I’m just about to head into my office to see a new client. There’s a website where patients who are looking for therapists in my expertise can go to. They take a short quiz; select however many problems they’re having from a drop-down menu and then the site matches them to therapists in their area. This is how I generally receive a lot of my new patients.
On Wednesday Mumbe came in and told me she went out on another date with the one guy she really liked. She explained how she took him out to a nice dinner, they had wine and she explained more about her culture . . . and about the type of things that still happen in her home country. At that point she told him the truth and while he was shocked, he was horrified of what had been done to her. His only concern was the horror she had been through.
Now I’m going through the assessments I had my new patient fill out online before her visit. She’s in her mid-sixties and has been having some issues becoming intimate with others over the past few weeks and notes she’s had quite a bit of stressors in her life. I’ve helped women just like her so I’m certain we’ll be able to turn her sex life around soon.
I hear the electronic doorbell indicate someone is walking through the door in the lobby and take a moment to put more lavender in my essential oil burner. Every patient I’ve ever had tells me how they’re so anxious when they first come here. Therefore, I try to make it an easy experience for them.
I move from behind my desk and head out to the lobby, seeing an older woman in an army green wool coat. It’s the beginning of November right now so it’s a bit brisk, but it hasn’t gotten too cold out. “Faleena?” I say. She peers her eyes up instantly smiling and stands.
“Hi Lacey. I’m so excited to be here.”
“Oh, goodness. That’s a relief. No one ever says that.” I laugh.
“The website must’ve lied when they said you’re compassionate then?”
“Oh no, not at all. Usually my patients say they’re anxious on the first visit. It’s refreshing to have someone excited to conquer what’s troubling them is all.” I state, hoping I somehow smoothed that over.
“Of course,” Faleena smirks and I lead her to my office, opening the door for her and allow her to venture in first.
“Please, take a seat. We’ll get started in just a moment. I actually just finished going over your testing but I’d love to chat with you about that, if you’re open.”
“That is what I’m here for after all,” She giggles, and something about that laugh resonates with me. It’s almost as if I’ve heard it before in a recording. I don’t know how though. Furrowing my brows I think about it for a moment but toss it to the back of my mind. I’ll only end up driving myself crazy.
I close the door behind me and turn on the noise machine that sits near my door so no other patients who are waiting for my colleagues can hear whatever she tells me. I realize now Faleena has a Gucci purse which instantly changes my mind about her. As my eyes scatter over her I notice the Louboutins on her feet. I’m not
normally so aware of what my clients wear, however I don’t typically attract the type of clientele who can afford things such as this.
Most of the cases I bring on are those who are lucky enough to have my specialty covered by their insurance. The people who come to me aren’t those who can afford to spend two-hundred-and-fifty-dollars per hour on a session. To this woman that must be chump change.
“I didn’t see many others here. Are you one of the only ones who accepts late appointments?”
“Luckily, we have the luxury of setting our own schedules here. I prefer to work in the evenings, while others may prefer mornings or afternoons.” I know I’m playing mind games with her by not answering her question, but I feel like I shouldn’t.
“Oh, I see. Well, let me be frank. My name isn’t Faleena and you’re going to be coming with me.”
I bat my eyes a couple of times, wondering how this woman has the audacity to speak to me like this but before I can even get a word out she’s putting her hand into her purse and I’m rendered speechless as she pulls a gun out.
“Not going to say a thing? Aren’t you curious who has a gun pointed at you?” Faleena, who I now know has lied about her identity asks.
“Quite frankly, I don’t think your name matters.”
“Playing the tough girl card, I see. Well, let me rip that façade straight off you. I’m Fiona Steele, Lacey. The men who work for me tell me you and my lovely Jordan have become quite close. That isn’t the only thing they found. It looks like you’ve been hiding quite a bit from your dear grandmother. Isn’t that right?”
Shit. What is her prerogative here?
“Oh, wait. Let me rephrase that. You haven’t only been hiding things from your grandmother, but my son too. You know what Jordan hates more than anything else? Liars.” She continues to speak.
I roll my eyes at her ignorance, “You would have to know Jordan, and you don’t. You left when he was a child. The only thing you knew about him was when he was a boy. Now he’s a man. A man you know nothing about.” The fire in my blood starts to boil. I’m Latina and we fight for our family. We aren’t cowards who run away and never come back. Most importantly, we don’t ever give up on our family.
“You know what? I kind of like you,” She stands up from her chair, still keeping the gun pointed at me. “I’ll give you an opportunity. Tell my arrogant sons to stop trying to outplay the woman who created the fucking game their playing and pay a visit to us in Boston. They don’t really have a choice, cutie pie. If they don’t, I’ll make everything about you public. I might even stir the pot and release the video footage I have of you in my old house with him from all those years ago. Could you imagine what might happen if Summer were to get her hands on them, and if they were tampered with to have the time stamp when you would’ve been underage? Oh goodness . . . it could bring down the entire family. Couldn’t it?”
I shut my eyes, breathing in and out heavily as a burning feeling comes from behind my eyes. I’m so angered right now. But I can’t act that way at all. “I’ll be sure they pay you a visit in Boston, now get the fuck out of my office and don’t ever come back.”
Fiona slides the gun back into her purse, picks it up from off the floor and leaves my office. I stand in the doorway and watch her exit the lobby doors then proceed to shut and lock my office door behind me.
Holy fuck. I need a breather.
Chapter Eighteen
When a woman leaves you for herself, she won’t be back
~ Unknown
Lacey
I took all the time I needed to gather my emotions and wits before I called Jordan. When I called him, I didn’t have any clue what I was going to say but I knew I needed to get the Steele brothers together and to chat with them all face-to-face. Not only do I need to send the lovely message their dear mother wanted me to pass along, but I need to tell them about what I do. Every single one of them needs to know because I refuse to be blackmailed. As for my abuela, well, I’ll tell her another night.
I asked Jordan to call his brothers and get them to meet with us as soon as possible. He mentioned I forgot to include Madigan and it really didn’t matter at that point. I suppose she’d need to know the inner workings of what’s going on with her brothers’ crazy mother anyway.
We all agreed to get to Logan and Brooklyn’s house as soon as possible. It took me about twenty minutes but I was the last one to arrive. By the time I walked in through the doors Logan, Jordan, Christian and Madigan were all standing around in the foyer waiting for my arrival.
“Want to tell us what the hell is going on?” Christian grumbles. I can tell he’s irritated I didn’t go into detail with Jordan, but it wouldn’t have been a smart decision. What’s the point in playing an elaborate game of telephone when we can all meet face-to-face and talk about what happened like adults?
“You sounded frazzled when we were on the phone.” Jordan interrupts his brother just as Christian is about to continue speaking.
I love how he uses the term frazzled. I was a hyperventilating mess who couldn’t even form words. I had to rasp out we all needed to meet. “Before I get into what happened . . . I need to get something off my chest. I’ve been keeping something from you,” I shift my eyes between everyone in the room and focus in on Jordan, “From all of you. I’m sorry for keeping this to myself but I didn’t feel comfortable saying anything for a while. Shit, that’s a lie. I didn’t know if I was ever going to let this get out.”
“What out? You’re not getting to the point.” Christian keeps showing us his obvious annoyance. Of course, he’s the one speaking out, always being the bastard of the bunch.
“I have another job. Okay? I have a part-time job I work at three evenings a week.”
“Fuck. Don’t tell me you’re a stripper.” Jordan groans. I roll my eyes, clenching my fists at my sides. He’s already comparing me to Selena.
“No, I’m not a freaking stripper! But thanks for thinking I’d do that.” As soon as I say it, I realize how my words sound coming out. “Fuck, I’m sorry Christian. I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean . . . it’s just a very sexist assumption to assume a job I’m doing in the evening a few nights a week is stripping.”
“Glad you elaborated,” Christian responds, crossing his arms. Obviously, he’s pretty annoyed with me right now.
“What do you do part-time?” Logan is the one who asks, calm and collected like he always is.
I take in a deep breath and let it out, looking at Logan, who I know won’t judge me at all. Ironic how I’m worried about being judged for something that helps people. It’s those conservative values that were drilled into my mind as a child making me so terrified of this getting out.
“I’m a sex therapist. I mean, I’m a therapist but I help people with their sex issues. I help people get off, or get on, or . . . shit I’m rambling right now. I’m so sorry I kept it from you—”
Logan shocks me more than anyone. Jordan and Christian drop their jaws. Madigan smirks like the cat who ate the canary and Logan laughs his ever-loving ass off. “You’re honestly apologizing for being a therapist. Don’t therapists teach you something about excessively apologizing to the world for your successes?”
“I can tell you have been to therapy.” I mutter, getting a bit of laughter from the rest of the room.
“Is that what you called us all down here for?” Logan is the one who continues to speak.
“Not exactly. Your mother paid a visit to me, at my office, pretending to be a patient and essentially threatened to blackmail me . . . and,”
Now Madigan is the one to chime in. “And what?”
“She threatened us,” I’m staring right at Jordan fighting every feeling inside me right now. It feels like we just got on the right track. I don’t want to cause chaos in our relationship this early on but I’m afraid it’s unavoidable at this point.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Christian asks, looking between Jordan and I.
“Lacey and I
have officially been dating since last week.” Jordan confesses. We both wanted to keep our relationship private while we figured things out. Plus, when you tell one person in this family anything it somehow gets to everyone else. In a sense we wanted a honeymoon phase, for it to be about us and no one else.
“Well shit, I never saw that coming.” Christian chuckles, looking to Madigan.
“Did you tell them?” Jordan asks his sister.
She shrugs, “When do we ever have good news to share? I forgot it was supposed to be a secret.”
“Bullshit,” Jordan snaps back at her.
“She only told us, Reggie, Selena and Brooklyn.” Logan interrupts. Jordan looks entirely more frustrated with his sister but there’s a time and a place. He needs to focus all of his irritation on his mother instead.
“I really don’t care about any of that right now. There are bigger things to be worrying about. Jordan . . . she makes me think she had cameras in the lake house that recorded us . . . you know. She insinuated she could change the time stamps to where it looked like I was underage when we got together. God, this is pissing me off. You guys had enough bad press going on when everything happened with Selena. If she actually goes through with this and it gets out, I fear everyone will have a negative opinion of the Steeles.”
“What exactly did she say to you?” Jordan questions.
I think hard but not overly so. “Everything I just said to you pretty much. We don’t need to waste time rehashing the details, but she made it a point to give me a message to pass along. Your mother thinks you should stop trying to play the game she created. It appears she’s pissed you’re all trying to one up her. She wants you all in Boston.”
“Boston. Why am I not shocked?” Logan mutters, cursing under his breath.
“What is so special about Boston?” I ask the group of them. The boys all glance to the other so Madigan speaks up.
Stolen Hearts: A Dark Billionaire Collection Page 49
