Retaliatory Justice (The Talionic Files #1)

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Retaliatory Justice (The Talionic Files #1) Page 27

by Tawa M. Witko


  “Can never be too sure,” he says simply as he helps me inside the vehicle and sets my luggage on the backseat.

  I nod and turn to the window as he starts driving out of the airport. I feel drained, exhausted emotionally and physically, and somehow the knowledge that I’m with him eases my soul and mind, and I find myself dozing off. I hear a door open and my eyes blink as I start to wake. Are we already there? I glance outside and see that we are parked in front of a huge house. It’s magnificent, something you would find in a magazine and certainly not something I’ve ever seen in Ormant.

  “You can lie down upstairs,” he says as he helps me out of the vehicle.

  My brows furrow. “Is that where you sleep?”

  He smiles. “No, I sleep in the room we are using as our headquarters.” He runs his thumb between my brows. “I can tell that you’re tired and I don’t want us to disturb you.”

  “I’d feel safer if I was with you,” I say hesitantly, not wanting to sound needy, but the prospect of sleeping in some strange house alone doesn’t sound appealing.

  “All right,” he replies reluctantly.

  He grabs my bag from the backseat and takes my hand, leading me to a side door around the large house. Before we enter, he drops the bag and pulls me into his arms, kissing me fiercely. His tongue seeks mine in desperation, as his lips wrap around mine. It’s as if this were the last kiss we would share. It takes my breath away and leaves me wanting more. His head rests against my forehead when he finally pulls away from me.

  “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he whispers reverently.

  “I trust you.”

  His eyes close and he kisses my forehead lightly before stepping away and opening the door. He leads me inside what can only be described as the ultimate man cave. In fact, I have to cover my mouth to stifle the giggle that wants to come out. It’s all dark colors with a pool table and a really nice card table that looks like something you would see in Las Vegas. I smile, unable to stop the visual of a bunch of officers gathered around it playing poker. Passed the poker table is an entryway that leads to a living room space, with a large L shaped sofa and a huge plasma television mounted on the adjacent wall. Inside this room, there are three men talking diligently. As we step to the edge of the entryway, they all turn to us.

  “Hey, Dominique,” Clayton responds, walking up to us and giving me a hug.

  “Hey, Clayton.”

  He kneels slightly so he can look me in the eyes. “We’re gonna get him, Dominique.”

  I squeeze Valentino’s hand and nod. “He came to her house last night,” Valentino informs him. “He’s working for Enrico. I have no doubt.”

  Two other men approach us, both wearing worn expressions. They are both about the same height and build although one has an aura about him that is a tad more menacing. The blond haired one seems sort of mellow but the dark haired one looks like he is on the verge of snapping at any moment.

  “What happened?” the blond asks.

  “Dominique, this is Agent Zachary O’Neal,” he motions to the man who just spoke.

  Agent O’Neal reaches out and shakes my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  “And this is Agent Jeff Paulson,” he says, motioning to the dark haired man.

  “Dominique,” he says with a nod of his head and a cheery smile considering his current stance.

  “Who came to her house?” Clayton asks and I can hear anger there.

  I sigh. “Marshall did. He took the gun Valentino gave me. Told me to tell Valentino that he needed to stop poking his nose around or else he would end up like his dad.”

  “You better report the gun, Valentino. That’s all you need is to have Beauchamp shoot someone with your gun,” Zach insists.

  “I will in a minute,” he says to him and then turns to me. “Dominique, we can talk about this in a little bit, you…” Valentino starts to say but I shake my head and he stops.

  “No, I want to help. He said more.”

  He nods and walks me into the living room so I can sit down. Valentino sits on the coffee table in front of me while the others take seats on either side of the couch.

  “He said they killed Whitney. He said he wanted to kill me because of what they did to her but he couldn’t because he needed me to relay the message.”

  “Who are they?” Zach asks.

  “I don’t know. I’m assuming the new owners.”

  “The new owners?” Valentino asks, clearly surprised. “You didn’t tell me about any new owners.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I knew you were busy and that I was going to see you today and thought it would be better to tell you when I saw you in person.”

  “Damn it, Dominique!” he says, standing up. “You can’t keep things from me. I could have had you out of there sooner,” he yells.

  “Valentino,” Clayton states loudly, getting Valentino’s attention.

  Valentino brings his hands to his head and starts pacing. I’m watching, terrified. I knew I should have told him right away but until Marshall came last night I thought it could wait. Finally, he approaches me and sits back down on the coffee table. His eyes are fierce, and if I’m perfectly honest with myself, I’m a little scared. He grabs my hands tightly.

  “Dominique, there are people out there that want you dead, that want me dead, and if you’re not honest with me, then they will get their wish,” he says firmly and to the point.

  I flinch as tears streak my face. He stops them with his thumbs. His expression softens but it doesn’t stop my heart from racing.

  “I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me everything. Do you understand?” I nod as he cups my cheek. “I’ll keep you safe, Dominique. I promise.”

  “I went in to quit, like we discussed. Jackson was with me, but I had him wait right outside the door,” I turn to look at Clayton and then Valentino again. “You guys have been there, it was safe.”

  “Go on,” Valentino says, trying to hold his tongue. I know he is probably angry at Jackson now but I made him wait outside.

  “There were four of them,” I pinch my eyes shut trying to remember their names. “Hamadi something was the one who talked the most. He said he and his wife were the owners of Le Creole.”

  I open my eyes when I hear a bunch of muttering. I glance around the room and realize quickly that they aren’t looking at me at all. They are staring at each other with these stunned expressions. What did I say? Valentino closes his eyes and shakes his head. I hear a throat clearing and turn to it.

  “Hamadi Mubarak,” Zach asks.

  I look at him in shock. “Yes, how do you know about him?”

  “Is this some kind of turf war?” Jeff asks, shaking his head and leaning back.

  Valentino stands and walks around for a moment. Not the frenzied pacing he was doing when he was angry. This is more deliberate, like he’s trying to sort something out. Finally, he stops and places his hands on his waist.

  “Okay, let’s figure this out guys. What we know so far is that we have Carmine in New York. He ships Tony out here to help Enrico set up his operation, except Tony is undercover for the FBI. We have Marshall Beauchamp in New Orleans working with Enrico. We know because one, he was at Enrico’s restaurant when we raided it, and two, the message he had for me was from Enrico. I’ve always suspected that Enrico murdered my family and now I know.”

  “According to Michelle, Tony stated that Enrico was trying to pull a back-door deal with the Komarovski family without Carmine’s knowledge,” Zach adds.

  “Yet Komarovski gave us Hamadi, why would he do that?” Clayton asks.

  “And what does this have to do with her?” Jeff asks, motioning his thumb in my direction.

  “They think I know something,” I say.

  “Do you?” Jeff asks flippantly.

  “Watch it!” Valentino practically growls.

  “I’m just saying, she’s tied to it all somehow,” Jeff reiterates with a shrug.

 
“I don’t know anything, but I think it has something to do with this pendant,” I say pulling it out from under my shirt.

  “May I?” Zach asks, reaching his hand out.

  “Sure,” I pull it off and hand it to him.

  He rolls it in his fingers. “This is the Eye of Horus.”

  “Yes, that’s what Nephthys said.” They look at me strangely. “She’s Hamadi’s wife.”

  “How do you know that?” Jeff asks with a roll of his eyes.

  “I like mythology,” Zach replies casually, ignoring his comment. “This particular symbol is often used to represent royalty,” everyone looks at him, “a family of significance.”

  “Yes,” I interject. “Nephthys said that only the men in their family could give those away. She said it means the bearer is untouchable.”

  “How did you get it?” Valentino inquires.

  “I had asked Phillipe about a month ago what the pendant meant. He had joked that it kept the bad guys away. When he and I were in the street, before he got shot, he gave it to me. He made me promise to wear it.” There is more mumbling and then I add. “I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it, Valentino.”

  Valentino gives me a strange look as do the other agents. “Why would I recognize it? I saw it but it didn’t really mean anything to me.”

  I bunch my brows together. “That’s so odd because that other agent did.”

  “Adams recognized this symbol?” Valentino seethes.

  Now I’m really confused. “Yes, he did. He actually seemed mad when he saw it.”

  “What did he say?”

  I close my eyes and try my best to remember the exact words he used. He had come in with the two goons and he was asking if I had sex with Phillipe. Then he noticed the symbol. When my eyes open they are all watching me expectantly, none more than Valentino.

  “He said that I better make sure I keep that out so the bad guys know I can’t be touched or something like that. It was a while ago. I don’t remember the exact wording.”

  “I need the wall,” Valentino says and they all rise and follow him.

  Okay, what does that mean? I follow as well and see that they are all gathered around the back wall which has some elaborate display of people with arrows and writing all around it. I recognize some of the people like Marshall, Whitney and Phillipe, the restaurant, even myself. There are pictures of the various exits of the restaurant as well as the docks and a boat. I watch from a distance as they all start talking quickly.

  “It’s obvious Adams works for Enrico. What Dominique revealed confirms that,” Zach starts.

  “Enrico has Adams on payroll to make sure that things go smoothly. If you are going to move guns you want an ATF guy in your pocket,” Clayton adds.

  “Adams knew about the pendant which means he has worked for Mubarak’s crew before or Enrico is completely aware of them,” Valentino states.

  “Enrico is going through them for the guns because of Beauchamp,” Jeff says.

  “Based on our research yesterday, we know that Mubarak is a known gun trader across Europe. He’s the obvious choice,” Zach continues.

  “Mubarak sells Enrico the guns. He is importing them through the restaurant under Beauchamp. Enrico has Adams watching the area, knows we are on to him. Carmine gets wind of what Enrico is doing and sends Tony there. Except they, could be Enrico or Carmine for all we know, figure out that Tony is undercover so they shoot him, then use the fire to destroy the evidence,” Valentino states confidently.

  “De la Fosse gave the necklace to Dominique so now they think she knows something because it represents the family. They aren’t sure of her. She’s never been linked but she has something she shouldn’t. Maybe it’s like being a made man in the Italian mafia. You can’t hit the person without a full out war,” Zach questions.

  They are all nodding.

  “That’s why Adams said what he did in our debriefing, Valentino. He assumed Phillipe and Dominique were lovers because that pendant gets passed down to wives and loved ones,” Clayton adds.

  “Marshall said that everything happened because Phillipe gave me this. That Whitney was killed because of me,” I say softly.

  They all turn to me and Zach nods before looking at Valentino.

  “That would make sense. Whitney wasn’t supposed to touch her and by doing so she signed her own death wish.”

  “What do the Russians want out of all this?” Jeff asks.

  Valentino sighs. “I don’t know yet. Dimitri is slick and he hates Carmine. Those Russians can hold a grudge, hell, grudges are handed down like family heirlooms so I can’t imagine why he would want to work with him. But he kept saying stuff like, what we think we know we don’t and things aren’t always what they seem.”

  “The Komarovski family would not work with the Sicignano family unless they had something substantial to gain by doing it. Selling guns doesn’t seem like something they would join hands for,” Clayton states confidently.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Valentino replies.

  Valentino glances at me and can see me leaning against the wall, my lids are drooping and then I open them quickly. What they are doing is fascinating and I want to learn more. I want to know everything they do but my lack of sleep is really getting to me. I hear Valentino tell them to hold on, and before I realize what’s happening, he lifts me into his arms. I immediately rest my head against him, and the next thing I know, I am laying on a bed. He kisses my temple and then I hear footsteps as my brain and body drift off to places where people don’t die and love lasts forever.

  I wake to the touch of his lips on my stomach. He is nestled between my legs and my shirt is bunched up near my neck. I whimper as his tongue darts in and around my belly button while I sleepily remove my shirt. His hands reach underneath me and unsnap my bra, releasing my breasts for him. He starts kissing up my stomach until he reaches my lips, where he kisses me passionately. Moments later, he is making love to me.

  “Valentino,” I moan, arching my back slightly.

  This goes on, the steady pull between us until we both reach our peak and fall against the bed. I snuggle up next to him, kissing his chest lightly and feeling the rhythmic thumping of his heart. This is where I want to always be. His hand gently caresses my back and I’m ready to fall right back to sleep.

  “My godmother said dinner is almost ready so we should probably head up there,” he states casually.

  I glance at him and arch my brow, which causes him to laugh. I slap his chest playfully and spring from the bed. He rolls to his side to watch me as I spin around the room, spotting the bathroom. I grab my clothes from the ground and open my suitcase to get my toiletry bag to go freshen up. There’s no way I’m meeting his family smelling like I have just been intimate with him. When I return to the room, he is already dressed.

  “You ready, baby?” he asks.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I smile, hoping it masks my nervousness and, praying that they aren’t going to be upset about him bringing a black girl home.

  He takes my hand and leads me to a staircase that exits in what looks like a foyer. Oh, my God! This house is even more amazing on the inside. I immediately start fiddling with my clothes, wishing I had changed outfits. We are greeted by four people. One being Clayton standing by the most stunning woman I have ever seen. She could easily be a model. Next to her is a gorgeous blond woman who is definitely the woman’s mother and standing next to her is a handsome man with sandy colored hair wearing a polo shirt and a pair of jeans.

  “Dominique, these are my godparents, Joseph and Lynelle Thompson,” Valentino introduces.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, shaking Joseph’s hand. When I go to shake Lynelle’s, she hugs me instead.

  “Welcome to our home.”

  I smile, as relief floods through me. Valentino chuckles. “You already know Clayton, but this is Kailee, his fiancée and my oldest friend.”

  “I’m your only friend,” she tells him before addres
sing me. “It’s very nice to finally meet you,” she says, shaking my hand. She then turns to Valentino again and kisses his cheek. “You’re not slick. I know what you were up to down there.”

  Valentino laughs and I feel the heat rise up my neck. How embarrassing! Lynelle rolls her eyes and links her arm with mine. I glance over my shoulder and Valentino is smiling at me as he talks to Kailee. Lynelle begins taking me on a tour of their home, telling me all kinds of interesting facts about the place and pointing out her various pieces of artwork. I stop when I see the painting Valentino got for her in New Orleans. It’s beautiful but certainly is not in the same caliber as the other paintings in this room. She notices me looking at it.

  “Valentino brought that back from New Orleans,” she grins knowingly. “Did you suggest it?”

  I nod. “He wanted to get you something different and unique. He said he isn’t always good at telling people that they are important to him and wanted you to know that he thought you were special.”

  Lynelle dabs her eyes and nods. “I presume that you know about his parents?”

  I nod again. “He told me they died in an explosion.”

  “They did,” she strolls to the mantel and I follow her.

  When I come up beside her, I notice that she is gazing at a family picture of Valentino, his parents, and a pretty little girl who’s sitting on his lap. Valentino has his chin on top of the girl’s shoulder and it looks like she is giggling, in fact, they all are. Oh man, Valentino is gorgeous. He has this kind of wild hair thing going on but what makes the picture perfect is how happy they all are. Their faces scream love.

  “This was taken three months before they died.”

  “He looks so happy,” I state sadly.

  “The way he looks at you gives me hope that he will be again.”

  “Ma’am, dinner is ready,” a woman in an apron interrupts us.

  As we exit the room, Valentino is waiting for me and immediately pulls me into his arms. Lynelle smiles at him before following the maid into the dining room. His hands run up and down my back lovingly as he lays a gentle kiss on my forehead.

 

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