Devil's Pawn

by SE Chardou

  I thanked him before tipping him handsomely, and failed to watch him walk away as I scanned the headlines. The main story was no interest but further down the front page, the headline screamed in bold print. I read the article with interest.

  New Year’s Day Massacre in Las Vegas

  Felicia Davis, USA Today

  January 3, 2015

  The city of Las Vegas is still reeling from the bloody New Year’s Day massacres that occurred at The Florentine Hotel & Casino. While most revelers were busy celebrating the New Year, seven men were murdered in a suite at The Florentine. Six were bodyguards and the remaining victim was Marco Bassi, one of four major heirs to Bassi Enterprises, a conglomerate with firm ties in Nevada. Not only does Bassi Enterprises control one of the biggest construction companies in the State but they also owned The Florentine.

  There has been speculation that Angelo Abandonato, a businessmen and head of Abandonato Incorporated, has filed numerous complaints to the Nevada Gaming Control Board, citing conflict of interest on behalf of Bassi Enterprises. Attorneys representing Abandonato Incorporated argued how could a company, which acquired roughly sixty-five percent of all construction jobs in the State also own a hotel and casino, especially since Bassi Construction built The Florentine in 2002.

  There has still been no decision by the Gaming Control Board as of yet but Bassi Enterprises is caving, and selling The Florentine to Abandonato Incorporated at a loss due to the notoriety of the murders.

  Mr. Abandonato’s company lost the biggest objector in Bassi Enterprises when a terrorist attack was launched on the penthouse Antonio Bassi, and his wife, Patricia Bassi, were staying with friends to welcome in the New Year. A bomb, which blew up in their private suite within the penthouse, murdered both husband and wife while many more were injured.

  There are few suspects or leads at the moment and what Las Vegas Metro Police do have, they aren’t sharing with the public. An insider, who did not wish to be named, made a brief statement off the record.

  “This tragedy wasn’t about terrorists or certain people being at the wrong place at the wrong time. This was inside job, and organized crime has their dirty fingers over every inch of both crime scenes. We shall be taking the investigation seriously and also calling in for Federal help from the FBI. It is time to bring some of these organizations down, and nothing has been more successful at demolishing them than the RICO Act.”

  The Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act was passed in 1970, and has been the downfall of more than a few criminal enterprises. This is one story that will not die a quick death, and the Metro Police Department has promised that arrests and indictments will happen after the result of a very thorough investigation.

  I put the paper down and drank from my tea, which had cooled to the perfect temperature. It was never about getting revenge against Dimitri Koslakov. My uncle had tricked us all, and most of all he’d cost me the man I loved.

  What could I expect? At the end of the day it all came down to money. He wanted to buy The Florentine, and now, he would get it for a song. The asking price wouldn’t be nearly as high due to all the notoriety of the murders. However, in a few years, that would be the reason why so many people would be drawn to the hotel and casino. The infamous place where two, separate attacks took place in the early hours of New Year’s Day in 2015.

  Initially, he might have lost money but what he saved buying the place meant he could fix it up to be even grander than it already was. And once the renovations were completed, he could make a pretty penny off his investment.

  The hatred for Angelo boiled like raw acid in my stomach; I immediately tried to calm myself down despite the injustice of it all. I had been having the worst cases of heartburn and acid reflux the last few days. I knew why but I couldn’t face it, not yet.

  It didn’t seem fair I’d lost my only love to bullshit. It was never about settling a score with Dimitri. Angelo didn’t give a fuck about him because he’d helped the man carry out one of the most brutal crimes that changed my life forever.

  He might have his sanctimonious attitude down to a science but I was no longer fooled, and the blinders had been ripped away from my eyes.

  I sat there on the lounge for a moment, staring into nothingness, the copy of USA Today settled on my lap like an afterthought.

  “Is anyone sitting here?”

  I recognized the deep, sexy voice immediately, and smiled. It took me a moment to stand but as I faced that handsome face, hidden behind sunglasses, and a five o’clock shadow, I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Oh my God, Max, I thought I’d lost you. I mean I knew you weren’t dead but . . . what the hell took you so long? Why haven’t you been in contact?” My elation at seeing him quickly turned to hurt and subdued anger.

  He took off his glasses and sat next to me on the lounge, our thighs brushing together. “I had to take a different flight and there were three layovers, one was overnight in Miami. I didn’t want to talk to you on the phone. I wanted to be here with you so I could look into your eyes and tell you how much I love you. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

  I reached over and kissed his mouth before he took control over our kiss and his tongue thrust its way into my mouth. I didn’t give a shit about the public display of affection. I just wanted to feel his warmth and smell his natural, manly body scent mixed with one of his favorite colognes. I was so crazy in love with this man a life without him could hardly be considered a life at all.

  As we separated, he gazed into my eyes with a frightening intensity. “You were right. All along, and for some reason I doubted you because I didn’t want it to be true. I wanted you to have a happy ending, a real family you could call your own but alas, it was never meant to be.”

  I caressed his cheek, the rough feel of two-day-old stubble against my soft palm reassuring. “That’s not true. I have you, and we have our baby. Then there’s Vincent, Edward, Chantal, Miranda, and Karina. You’re the only family I need.”

  Max’s aquamarine eyes were so bright with unexpressed emotions, he scared me, and I wasn’t one to frighten easy. “It wasn’t just about acquiring The Florentine. Angelo Abandonato is into some shit you don’t even want to know about and there’s a reason why he wants you dead. More than simply because of your mother’s ‘betrayal’ toward him.”

  My heart galloped in my chest like wild horses. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

  “I did some digging and with the help of Trey ‘Hacker’ Lennon, and he provided some very insightful information for a small fortune. Angelo was never the main heir of the Abandonato fortune. Your grandfather isn’t dead but he is a recluse. Alive and watched over twenty-four-seven by an army of guards in Vipiteno Sterzing, a Northern Italian village in South Tyrol, close to the Austrian border.”

  “Would you like something to drink, sir?” Ricardo inquired pleasantly.

  “Sure, a double vodka on the rocks. Anything premium is fine with me.” Max waited until the waiter was out of hearing distance before he continued, “When Sophia was murdered, Vincent and you became the surviving heirs of her part of the estate. The problem was your grandfather isn’t s stupid man. He knew what Angelo had done—how he’d basically stolen Vincent from Sophia and Riggs, holding him for hostage. Your grandfather had his estate revised.”

  Ricardo set Max’s drink down and walked away.

  My eyes remained glued to my fiancé. “Okay . . . and?”

  “The old man bequeathed you eighty percent of his wealth and holdings. It’s approximately worth between three and four billion dollars. Angelo wants the money, and the only way he can assure he gets it is if he murders you and any heirs you produce.”

  I sunk back into the lounge and looked at the cerulean sky, the white cotton candy clouds, and the bright sun shining down on this island in the middle of paradise.

  “Max . . . I don’t know what to say. Are you basically implying I’m never going to b
e safe as long as I’m alive?”

  A smirk played on his lips. “No because nothing is ever cut and dry, my love. You see, I also found plenty of dirt on Angelo, and he can’t touch you. Not as long as I’m up right and breathing.”

  Feelings of hope washed over me as I smiled in return. “I hope you plan to tell me all about it.”

  He swallowed his double vodka before he looked around. “Not here. I stink. I wanna take a shower, fuck you all day, and then tonight, over dinner, I will give you the blueprint on how we’re going to take that motherfucker down.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Max stood, helped me to my feet, and we both walked back into the lobby.

  It wasn’t over, not by a long shot, and unfortunately, we didn’t have the element of surprise anymore. I didn’t know how much my uncle knew but I would find out within the next few days.

  As long as he didn’t suspect we’d run away to escape his tyrannical empire then I knew I could stay on top of the situation. Max and I could relax, I’d grow fat and happy, and then I’d give birth to our beautiful baby on this gorgeous island in the middle of the Caribbean Sea.

  Meanwhile, we could also plot our revenge, and unleash justice long over due. The die had been cast, and the judgment rendered. Angelo’s days alive were officially numbered, and I wouldn’t rest until I made him pay for what he did to my family and me.

  After all, my mother might have been born an Abandonato but she died a Reynolds.

  I, too, was a Reynolds, and I would never forget my family legacy. This was one dish of vengeance best served cold . . . and it would take a long time to plan everything perfectly. With careful calculation, contingency plans, and alternatives thought out concisely; yet without indecision or reluctance to follow through.

  That was all right with me.

  I’d waited thirteen years to kill Mila Koslakova.

  If I had to, I’d wait another thirteen just to see the look on his face when I put the bullet in Angelo Abandonato’s brain then I would.

  Revenge was sweet but patience was a virtue.

  And in the end, virtues were a gift, and the true mark of maturity.

  I was no longer impulsive. I would bide my time until the plan was airtight, and then, Max and I would make our move.

  The execution—both literally and figuratively—would be flawless.

  Angelo wouldn’t die today but he could be assured the day it did happen, he would slowly suffer just as my mother had done the night she was murdered. He’d experience enough torture to rival the worse cases of waterboarding I’d ever read, and in the end, he would beg for the sweet release of death.

  Mags and Max’s journey concludes in…

  Devil’s Play

  Premiering Summer of 2015

  Now, an exciting excerpt from Beyond the Pale, a psychological thriller from SE Chardou premiering Spring of 2015.

  A husband beloved by their community.

  An unfaithful wife.

  An abduction.

  A murder.

  Who ever said marriage was easy?

  Enter the perfect world of Mitch and Eve McCain and watch their whole life slowly unravel.

  I couldn’t believe this was my life.

  My perfect life.

  What started out as harmless pillow talk had turned into this . . . nightmare, and unfortunately, I didn’t see a way out for myself.

  A woman like me—cunning, unflinchingly intelligent and dangerously beautiful. I was only twenty-seven but most people still saw a young bimbo they could run all over.

  Even if I was married to Mitchell “Mitch” McCain.

  Hometown hero.

  Legendary baseball player.

  Father of two children—twins—we’d sired together three years, one day, thirteen hours and forty-five minutes ago.

  All I could think of was the running mantra in my head.

  He’d done it.

  He’d done it.

  He’d done it!

  Two of Las Vegas Police Departments’ finest walked into the interrogation room. Both women, they were attractive in a middle-aged, middle-class way that spoke of powerful positions in an organization predominantly made up of men.

  They both looked at me before they stared at each other, trying to hide the surprise on their face.

  Where was my attorney?

  Why hadn’t I professed my guilt by showing up with one?

  Perhaps because I had nothing to be guilty of, and even if I was guilty, I wouldn’t give these two bitches the satisfaction of thinking they’d snared the gorgeous blonde black widow.

  “Thank you for meeting with us, Mrs. McCain. We are very sorry about your loss.” The speaker was the first detective—Fellicini—a name that contrasted with her café au lait complexion, dark eyes and obviously racially mixed features. She wore her dark hair in a professional bun and although her dark gray suit was off the rack, it came from Nordstrom’s or Macy’s rather than JC Penny.

  “No problem at all. I want to help you solve this mystery as much as anyone else—more than anyone else. They’re . . . gone . . . and I don’t know where they are. I suppose that is more frightening than if there was some sort of finality to this situation.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” Detective Hudson began in a thick Manhattan accent, “you’d rather there be finality in a case like this? I hate to state the obvious but your husband and children are missing, Mrs. McCain. Mitch was the pillar of the community; he comes from gaming royalty, and everyone loves him. He is also a baseball legend, and his name will be remembered alongside players like Derek Jeter, Babe Ruth, and Willie Mays. From what we’ve heard about you, you’re no one’s favorite, not even amongst your ‘Summerlin luncheon crowd.’”

  I stared at the attractive yet older Irish woman before me and smirked. “I wasn’t a favorite because I was younger than most of them by a decade and second of all, many of them lusted after my husband. They were upset he’d married someone like me.”

  “Someone like you?” Detective Fellicini questioned though it sounded more like a statement. “Funny you should say something like that. The way you’re talking, you act like you come from some poverty-stricken family. Were your ‘Summerlin crowd’ not aware of your family legacy . . . Evelyn Astrid Lindz-McCain?”

  My heart sank in my chest.

  This bitch had done her homework and she wasn’t about to buy my “babe in the woods” act.

  Time for me to change my strategy.

  Fellicini smiled though there was absolutely no mirth in her expression. “Looks like you have some ‘splainin’ to do . . . Eve.”

  Premiering in Spring 2015 on e-book retailers and in paperback.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  SE Chardou is the darker side of professional liar and world-class traveler.

  Ms. Chardou’s writing is usually either dark romance or psychological thrillers with mystery and suspense aspects weaved into the plotline.

  She is currently working on a vast array of books about good girls gone bad, bikers, gangsters, cartels, and any other subject she finds remotely interesting enough to add a dark, psychological twist.

  When not writing, she enjoys daydreaming about her next trip to France, jet-setting across the country to author signings and playing taxi driver to her school-age daughters.

  Ms. Chardou currently resides with her two children and their multitude of stuffed animals in Las Vegas, Nevada.

  Stalk SE Chardou!

  Website: Novels That Rock

  Blog: The Realm of Selene Chardou

  Goodreads Author Page: Selene Chardou

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  If you would like to email Selene Chardou, she can be reached at: selenechardou@gmail.com

  Future Novels by SE Chardou

  Dance With The Devil Trilogy (Dark Romance/Romantic Suspense)

  Devil’s Play (Summer, 2015)

  The Southern Outlaw Se
ries (Romantic Suspense/Psychological Thriller)

  The Syndicate (Fall, 2015)

  Stand-Alone Novels

  Beyond The Pale (Spring, 2015)

  Toxic Love (Summer, 2015)

  Future Novels by Selene Chardou

  The Rough Riders MC Series (Romantic Suspense/Contemporary Romance)

  Ride to Love (Hardy & Talia) [Summer, 2015]

  Road To Redemption (Misty & Paddy) – Stand-alone companion novel [Autumn, 2015]

  Scarlet Fever Series (New Adult/Contemporary Romance/Women’s Literature)

  Jaded Faith (Spring, 2015)

  Grant’s Muse (Autumn, 2015)

  The Lovers Duet (New Adult/Romantic Mystery & Suspense/Contemporary Romance)

  Above The Fray (Winter, 2015)

  Future Novels by Blanche Hardin

  Break Her Trilogy (Dark Romance/Psychological Thriller/Mystery/Suspense)

  Tempt (Summer, 2015)

  Crave (Autumn, 2015)

  Future Novels by Elle Chardou

  The Vamp Saga (Paranormal Romance / Urban Fantasy)

  Mortal Death: Book I (Published by Permuted Press, Summer 2015)

  Better Off Immortal: Book II (Published by Permuted Press, Autumn 2015)

  Queen of the Immortals: Book III (Published by Permuted Press 2015/2016

  Immortal Dawn: Book IV (Published by Permuted Press 2015/2016)