by SE Chardou
“Yeah, I checked all that shit out.” Cricket never looked up from his iPhone. “We won’t have a problem gettin’ out. The Las Vegas Saints’ charter is sending in men for reinforcements and if any shit goes down, we can lay low at the clubhouse until everything gets sorted and we can get a flight back here.”
Shortly after they’d found available seats in the lounge area, their flight was called, and since they were part of the first group to board the plane, all four of them stood and walked to the front of the line.
Mags was one of the first to board, followed by Cricket. Max felt Edward’s hand on his shoulder and he turned toward his brother. “What’s up?”
“You break her heart and I’ll break your fucking kneecaps, you got me?” Edward’s blue-green eyes shone bright with sincerity and a hint of coldness.
Max couldn’t help but smile at his twin. “Mmm, you’re one to talk. A content family man with a beautiful wife and two perfect sons—”
“Three, brother.” His jaw flexed with underlying anger. “I swear to God if Mags had told me she was going to have my baby, I would have done everything in my power to help her keep our son. It drives me mad to think about those Neo-Nazi freaks raisin’ my fuckin’ kid but there’s nothin’ I can do right now. You best believe as soon as that kid is of age, I will get to know him and he will end up a Saint. No way in hell is my kid ever gonna belong to the White Knights MC.”
Max wasn’t exactly great with showing his emotions but he slapped his brother on the back. “Believe me, he’ll come looking for you. They won’t be able to keep the truth from him forever.”
Edward presented his ticket, followed by Max and they both boarded together. Cricket had already taken a seat next to Mags and they chatted amicably about music. Max took a seat next to his brother directly in back of them. Edward chose the window seat.
“I worry he’ll be resentful and won’t want anything to do with me. That’s my greatest fear.”
“I didn’t grow up with Sean or you. For a long time I resented all of you because I knew the truth even if you didn’t.” Max looked towards his brother who continued to stare out of the window. “I wouldn’t give up anything for taking the chance to finally meet you all. You’ve been more of a family in the short time I have known you all than I ever had with Mila and Dimitri.”
Edward finally faced his twin. “I always thought you were the lucky one . . . you grew up with our mother—”
“—who was a narcissistic nutcase with delusions of grandeur. You may think you received the short end of the stick but I would have traded places with you in a heartbeat. Everything about the club is unity, family and love for the club. I have never felt love for any criminal organization I worked for, whether it was Koslakov’s Bratva or the Abandonato Mafia. It’s just a job, brother. Nothing more. There’s no real loyalty, and Angelo hates me with a passion. If he could murder me without facing Mags’ wrath, he’d do it, and not think twice about it.”
“Well, you have us. We are your family—me, Dad, Chantal, Miranda—and we take care of our own. Any time you wanna join the Saints, just let us know. I’m sure we can avoid you becoming a prospect since you have more than enough experience, and our father is an Original. You’d be a welcome addition. Both you and Mags.”
Max smiled wryly. “Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind and hers too. She doesn’t feel safe in our current situation. We just have to do a little house cleaning first—you know, make sure there’s no blowback, and then we’ll revisit this conversation. The more I’ve thought about it, the more it makes sense.”
Edward shook his head. “Jesus fucking Christ, you really are my brother. If you need help with that house cleaning, give me a call. I would prefer you and Mgs were someplace we could keep an eye on you, brother. You need to come home, brother—accept your place at the table.”
“I will,” Max began, “Just give me some time to tie up some loose ends, and I promise you I’ll finally settle in the place I’ve always belonged.”
Chapter Thirteen
Mags
I smiled to myself as we landed in Las Vegas. It was always bittersweet, coming home. No matter how much horror I’d endured in that city, it was my birthplace and the only city I called home for most of my life.
I also felt a sense of peace because I was glad Max and Edward had a chance to bond on the flight from Reno. I knew he still had feelings for me but now we were both in relationships, and children were involved on both sides, I could finally accept the love I had for him too. It wasn’t what I felt for Max but there was a place in my heart that would always belong to Edward.
He was the first man who ever thought I was worth something. He treated me like was special—his lover, friend and confidante when we carried on our illicit affair. Not once did I ever feel like a piece on the side. I knew he’d revealed a part of himself few people had ever seen, and I was grateful he’d trusted me enough with his emotions to show it to me.
My greatest fear was coming between the two of them. They were not only brothers—they were fraternal twins. They’d grown in the same womb together and more or less were linked in a way I would never be able to understand. The fact that they could overcome my complicated and conflicted role in their lives made my heart soar.
Max didn’t trust easily, and as much as he loved me, I knew he needed a male confidant to share his secrets with, and who better than his brother?
As the four of us stepped out of the airport and walked to the limo that awaited us, I realized Vegas was cold and dreary but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the weather we’d left behind in Northern Nevada.
The driver took us to The Cosmopolitan, next to The Florentine, a Bassi family property and the place Marco Bassi had decided to spend his New Year’s Eve.
If the German-owned Cosmopolitan was a muted, European hotel and casino designed with a minimal all gray and silver exterior and subtle blue lights that illuminated it at night than the Florentine was its absolute opposite. Gaudy, loud and extremely predominant, the hotel boasted a gold exterior with black accents, and a dome top very similar to the Il Duomo while also going so far as to have the hotel extend and include Giotto’s famous bell tower. The difference between the Cathedral and the hotel was the bell tower actually housed the hotel’s most expensive suites, including two Penthouses.
We knew from the information acquired by Karina once she’d made contact with Marco again that he was staying in one of the suites on the thirtieth floor. The hotels top suites on the thirty-first through the thirty-sixth floor—including the penthouse suites—had sold out months in advance. Even with Marco being a future heir in his father’s criminal dynasty, he wasn’t powerful enough to bump a paying guest out of one of the most coveted floors of the hotel.
Vincent joined us in the lobby after we’d acquired our card keys for our suites. He made his way through the busy area and attempted a smile as he approached.
“Where’s Karina?” I immediately inquired after he embraced me.
We separated and he stared at me before he looked away and tried to blink away the tears from his eyes. “She’s with Marco. If this plan is to succeed then she needs to keep him busy. Unfortunately, when Angelo came up with his brilliant plan, he didn’t realize we were a couple.”
Cricket and Edward looked away though Max studied Vincent with intense aquamarine eyes, something that wasn’t lost on me.
“You married her, didn’t you?”
Vincent fingered the platinum band on his left ring finger. “Yes. We did it last night. She’s pregnant . . . and I love her.”
“How far along is she?” I wondered out loud.
My brother looked at me. “Almost nine weeks. Pretty much the first time we had sex she got knocked up. She hid it from me for a month before she told me but now I’m worried about her. It’s not the sex—she was a hardly a vestal virgin when we got together—but I don’t want him to hurt her. That’s my greatest fear.”
“Karina can take
care of herself. Believe me, she’ll be fine.” Max patted his brother-in-law on the back. “Congrats on the baby. I only hope her not being reared by our mother will be a good influence on her parenting skills.”
“How the hell did she hide it all this time? Why didn’t I know you two had a thing goin’? You started going out with her pretty much as soon as we got back from Miami,” I said, a feeling of betrayal laced my voice.
“Mags, it’s complicated. Angelo had me shadowing her from the moment she and Max arrived in your Lake Tahoe home. It was just a gig but I underestimated her charm, personality but most of all, her vulnerability.” Vincent sighed and turned toward Max. “She knew you were the only reason why she was alive but she also knew you didn’t particularly like her or trust her. That weighed heavy on her conscience, knowing you would rather not be bothered with her.”
“That’s not true—”
“Her whole life, she’s felt like a burden or a bargaining chip,” Vincent interrupted. “She’s incredibly insightful and intelligent beyond her years, Max. She didn’t want you to feel obligated and she wanted a life of her own. I can admit the first six weeks of our relationship was definitely insta-lust, but eventually I fell for her because we’re both orphans in a way. Unwanted, unloved and always searching for the unattainable. I’d kill Marco myself if he laid one hand on her in a violent capacity.”
Edward cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you object when Angelo decided to use your old lady as bait?”
Vincent stared at him as if he’d asked one of the craziest questions imaginable. “The Abandonato Mafia is not a democracy, and foot soldiers don’t get a vote. Besides, everyone knows not to question orders when Angelo gives them—you do as he says or you find yourself made redundant. He isn’t the easiest man to please and he has no love loss for Koslakov or anyone who used to work him or is related to him. He would look for any excuse to murder both Karina and Max—I sure as hell wasn’t about to give him one.”
“Enough small talk and chit-chat. When are we supposed to make our move?” Cricket interrupted.
“That’s best spoken about in a more intimate environment, don’t you think?” I looked around us, a little group all huddled together in the midst of people coming and going. Constant chaos, the loud, raucous laughter of people who were already drunk although it wasn’t even noon yet, and we were stuck right in the middle of it.
“Mags is right,” Max said. “Let’s get all our stuff to our suites and meet for lunch around one o’clock. We can discuss it then and make sure everything is in place for tonight. I don’t want any waves . . . not a goddamn ripple. We need to be tight, sharp, and ready with contingency and back up plans. I want everyone’s input because all of our lives are at stake going for this piece of shit. To be honest, I don’t understand what is so important about Marco Bassi. He’s a nobody.”
Vincent looked at me as I turned his way to make sure he was all right but there was a look of dread in his eyes. “About that. I received an encrypted email on my laptop. I couldn’t exactly tell you what it said—you all were still on your way here but if I could meet with you all in your suite in about a half an hour, I can fill you in on the details.”
I squeezed my brother’s hand closest to me before I left with Max, and we immediately walked to the elevators that would take us to our floor. As a safety precaution, we’d all split up just in case everything went to hell in a hand basket. However, this diversion was only for the benefit of my uncle should he have others following us and tracking our movements. Although we’d purchased three City Rooms for two nights—the cheapest rooms available and on Angelo’s dime—Desmond “Dizzy” Cox, President of the Lucifer’s Saints mother charter, didn’t trust an acquaintance to care about his club members’ needs.
Instead, through a chain of command that led back to Gisela Jackson-Cox, the wife and old lady of Cillian Cox, he’d reserved a three-bedroom West End Penthouse for all six of us—assuming Karina would also be staying with us. Edward and Cricket had two full beds in their room and the biggest bedroom while Max and I would share one of the medium-sized bedrooms and the other was reserved for Vincent and Karina.
It was a roundabout way of making sure we weren’t being followed as we trudged our way to our rooms, only to make an about face and finally meet up at the Penthouse.
Edward and Cricket arrived almost at the same time as we did while Vincent opened the double doors. The suite, a thirty-seven hundred square foot space, and almost as big as our home in Lake Tahoe, assured the five of us would never get in each other’s way.
The décor was tasteful and inspired by dark lush colors in certain rooms mixed with light, soothing colors in other rooms. The dark/light contrast gave the penthouse a sense of being lived in and something more than a mere suite we would only be spending the night.
Although it would seem like the best option would be to get the hell out of dodge as soon as he did what we’d come to Vegas to do, it would also suggest an air of guilt in the underworld that we operated. It was small and the movements of those in it were watched by each other though we rarely spoke about it.
Chantal and Miranda were on a plane now and expected later on in the evening. If anyone asked about why we’d been in Vegas, ironically, at the same time as Marco Bassi was murdered, we had the plausible excuse we’d come to celebrate New Year’s here, and our hotel reservation and room service bills would reflect that.
The Penthouse was our home base but both Edward and Cricket decided to use the rooms purchased by Angelo for quality time with their spouses. There wasn’t any danger prior to the murders. After that, the rooms would no longer be of any use to us.
Edward and Cricket sat down on the bar stools provided while Max took a seat on one of the plush cream sofas and I kicked off my shoes before I lay next to him with my head in his lap.
Vincent continued to stand and pace, which did nothing to calm down the frenzy of emotions I felt running through my body.
“What’s going on?” Edward’s voice held that tone of authority that reminded me he was actually one of the most important members in the Saints’ Birch Tree Originals club.
As Road Captain for the club, it was his duty to make sure this whole job went off without a hitch. He was responsible for every Saints member involved in this mission and if anything went wrong, it was his ass. Not only would he have to answer to the club but the mother charter President, and from the few run-ins I’d had with Dizzy, he wasn’t exactly the most likeable of people.
Vincent stopped pacing and looked directly at Edward and Cricket instead of us. “I’m the only one who will assist Karina in the murder of Marco Bassi. The big fish is his uncle, Antonio Bassi, who is staying in one of the Penthouse suites at The Florentine. You and Cricket are to assist Max and Mags murder him while Karina and I take care of Marco.”
I sat up and felt my blood pressure rise with the thought of how we’d all been tricked. It was a goddamn suicide mission. How the hell were we supposed to get to the Underboss of the Bassi Mafia Crime Family?
“I think this just went from The Italian Job to Mission fucking Impossible.” I stood, anger coursing through my veins and my heart thundering in my chest so hard, if I didn’t calm down, I was liable to start having heart palpitations. “How the hell are the four of us supposed to take down one of the most protected crime figures in the world? He may as well have just asked us to murder Koslakov. That would have been easier than what he’s asking us to do now.”
“That’s the whole point.” Vincent looked toward the floor. “He doesn’t expect any of you to make it out alive, not realistically. Everything he’s done has been building up to this point. You know what a sociopath our uncle is, Mags—how can anything he ask you to do still surprise you after all this time?”
“Well, there is one way we can get in and get out with minimal damage to our persons,” Cricket spoke up. “The Vegas charter has a bomb-making expert. Kink and I will never make it into any sort of elabora
te affair the guy has got planned tonight but you and Max could pass as a well to do society couple. Attach the device where I tell you and get the hell out of there.”
I shook my head with disbelief. “There will be more people than him there, and they don’t deserve to die because we’re here to take out one man.” I looked toward Vincent. “What happens if we can’t do it? What’s Angelo going to do? Kill us? Antonio Bassi was never apart of this plan, and now he wants to change everything and we’re supposed to be ready to do this?”
He walked over and sat across from me. “Seriously, I don’t know what he would do, but the last mistake I would make is to try to openly defy or cross him, Mags. Believe me, he can make your life a living hell.”
I was far from naïve; I knew what my uncle was capable of but I wouldn’t risk my life or the baby I was carrying for anyone, not even Angelo. I was willing to deal with the consequences, whatever they might be but I was not murdering a room full of people to get to one man.
Perhaps I was wrong about myself all along. Somewhere buried deep inside was a heart, and the ability to feel empathy. There were certain lines I wasn’t willing to cross and this was one of them.
I’d just made myself an enemy out of my uncle, and he had the power to destroy me along with everyone I loved and cared about. The thought was sobering but the alternative was freeing. It was time to make concrete plans about our future. Max and I were no longer safe within the confines of Abandonato family; we needed to embrace his relatives to ensure we were protected from harm that could be visited upon us in the near future.
Chapter Fourteen
Max
Max sat up in bed and allowed Mags to sleep. The elegant digital clock read six-thirty, and the darkness of the room signaled the arrival of evening. He stood, slipped on a pair of sweat pants and padded out of the bedroom toward the living room. He felt a hunger that made him realized he hadn’t had anything to eat since an awkward lunch five and half hours earlier, which was uncomfortable to say the least.
