I am escorted to the SUV, which I’ve come to understand is bulletproof and one of the safest things on the market. We drive to the airport and board one of my father’s private jets. The same security detail that took me to the airport will be on the plane with me. I notice how one of them helps load my luggage onboard while the other sits in the back, far away from Duncan and I. He ,on the other hand, sits directly across from me. I wonder if he realizes that I’m thinking about him.
***
A long plane ride later and a few hours of sleep isn’t enough to prepare me for what is about to happen today. I’m in New York City, about to attend my first Clan meeting as an Adame. My father did his best to prepare me for what to expect, however told me to expect the unexpected so he’s really been no help at all. I’ll walk into this meeting like I walk into every unknown situation that life brings me; with confidence and stride. I am my mother’s daughter, after all. I can handle anything that comes my way.
Duncan, James, and Bruno accompany me to the meeting. All looking very men-in-black like. Although, I believe the men in black cracked a smile and a laugh here and there. I wonder if they believe every clan member to be an immense threat. It’s the impression that they’re giving me.
Duncan sticks close to my side, arms crossed, eyes surveying the surrounding area. “Is there anything I should know?” I whisper to him, loud enough for him to hear but lowly enough to where no prying ears could.
“Well, you’re kind of a myth to everyone here. The locked away Adame, the last heir to the Clan.”
“Ah, so that’s why everyone is staring at me.”
“No, that’s because you’re Korean.”
I glance up to him and laugh, smacking him on the arm. It’s the first time I’ve felt like nothing has been awkward between us. It reminds me of Australia, and even though he did lie to me about almost everything…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss this. I miss his friendship, and his awful jokes.
I hear a few people gasp and turn in the direction that they’re staring in when I see my father rolling in on his electric wheelchair. I furrow my brows in confusion. He told me that he didn’t believe it would be wise for him to make the trip given his health issues. Does he not trust me to handle this by myself?
“I thought you’d be dead by now, old man,” I hear someone say to my father, and even though I don’t have the best relationship with him, I can’t bear to hear someone say that.
My father chuckles, “Willow, I forbid you to marry this man. Over my dead body will you procreate with this creature.”
The man’s eyes lift up. “So she’s on the market?”
“She’s not,” Duncan growls out, shocking both my father and I.
“Uh, what was your name? I don’t think I got it,” I say, distracting the group of us from the awkwardness that just transpired.
“I’m Stefan.” He grabs my hand and presses his lips against it. “It’s lovely to meet you. I can tell that you obviously take after your mother, and what a blessing that is.”
I hear a rumbling sound and immediately think it’s something coming from the city around us. Even being up high you can still manage to pick up sounds, but then I realize it’s coming from the man standing beside me. “Your guard dog is a little territorial. I hope he hasn’t peed on you yet.”
Out of nowhere everyone stops the small conversation that is going on amongst the room, two individuals walk straight through and head directly towards the massive table in the middle of the room. Instead of one seat at the head, there are two. A blonde woman with gorgeous hair sits first, and the built man beside her takes his seat. “We don’t have a lot of time today. Everyone, please take a seat. There are numerous pressing matters that we must discuss,” the woman states, and this is when I realize who she is. Mariana, the Queen of the Clans.
The group of us heads for the table, and my father grabs ahold to my hand, instructing me to wait. It’s now that I realize seats are assigned by clan, but there are no other women here besides Mariana, a red headed woman, and I, which strikes me as odd. “First order of business, we have discovered through the help of Logan, Jordan, and Christian Steele that Jan Constantin was framed to look like the instigator of the assassination attempt on Mariana,” Ion tells us all. From the corner of my eye I can see the red headed woman shift away from the man who sits next to her, they both have rings on their fingers which tells me that they’re probably married. “Natasha, please accept our sincerest apologies. Every piece of evidence had led to Anton going after your uncle. It was a horrible mistake, and we will live the rest of our lives knowing that an innocent man was killed.”
“Your apologies mean nothing to me. It won’t bring my uncle back from the dead, and it won’t change what happened,” she sternly states, looking at Ion and then to the man beside her.
“Anton was under explicit orders to do what needed to be done. Someone had tried to kill my wife, and it wouldn’t be tolerated,” Ion states.
“Instead, my husband killed my fucking uncle, who was innocent. I don’t give a damn whose instruction he was under. This does nothing but piss me off, enrage me more then anything you all can fathom. I want to know who did this. Who is the bastard who we’re going to make pay for all of the pain and suffering?” Her face turns beet red from nothing but anger. This woman is passionate, and I respect her so much because she doesn’t stay quiet, she says whatever it is that she’s thinking.
“Gabriele DiGiovanni. The DiGiovanni family is behind it,” Marianna speaks up. Everyone goes quiet, and I turn to my father, not knowing who this family is.
He speaks lowly, “The DiGiovannis are the Italian Mafia. We had been on good terms with them until now…now this means war.”
“What is the course of action, and how will we handle the Russians in this mess?” an older gentleman asks.
“We’re discussing the best way for us to respond. We have no reason to believe that Gabriele knows that we’re aware of his…betrayal,” Ion says, his tone showing how angry he is. “As far as the Russians go, Mariana has a truce with her cousin Aleksandr. Our concern is with Valentin, wherever he may be.”
The doors open abruptly, and everyone turns in the direction of the intruder. I almost half expected it to be Gabriele busting in here with a bunch of guns, but instead, it’s a woman. She’s drop dead gorgeous with long, flowing dark hair. She’s so beautiful that I wonder how she’s even real. A tall, muscular man comes inside with her. Scars riddle half of his face. He looks like a real life monster. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic is a bitch.”
Low whispers start amongst the group, it seems that this woman’s arrival is a shock to everyone. Mariana looks over to her, “It’s about time you showed up. We were just discussing our alliance with Aleksandr.”
“Ah. Well, listen up to your Queenie. Aleksandr is taking the bratva from his father Valentin, very shortly. Valentin has discussed this with Aleks, and the transfer will be happening soon. Aleks runs all fronts of the bratva at this time, and Valentin is nothing but a relic. We can trust Aleks’ word.”
“For anyone who is wondering, this is Katya Petrov, Mariana’s half-sister.”
“I’ve never been happier for you to not be a Kolosov,” the red headed woman says to her.
Katya smirks while looking to the man next to her. “You and me both.”
“Our main concern is the Italians. They are the more immediate threat, and after Mariana and I discuss what is our best action plan, we will make an announcement.” Ion then looks in my direction. “It is a pleasure to finally have you here, Willow. We have been waiting for a long time.” He turns his attention to my father. “Have you found a suitable husband for your daughter yet?”
I laugh, and I mean belly laugh in front of these close minded men. “I will not be forced to marry anyone. This is 2018, we aren’t back in the 1800’s where this shit was acceptable.”
Ion chuckles, “I should have known you would have a fierce spirit. Your father loves to
argue as well. You will end up finding someone suitable to marry, of that I have no doubt.”
I didn’t know what to expect coming into this meeting, but now I know to expect nothing but the unexpected. I feel like this is going to be a wild ride.
Chapter Thirteen
Duncan
New York was an interesting trip to say the least. The meeting was long, and after the fact, everyone split up, going in multiple directions. If anyone wished to target any clan member they’d have to do their fair share of work. I was anything but shocked when Kristof decided to show up last minute. It’s exactly like him to pull something like that, to prepare us for his absence when in reality he’d planned to attend. He is constantly testing people. I just don’t know if the test was for Willow, or for me.
The past couple of days have been simple. I’ve been sticking to my routine, and Willow has made it an easy job for me since she only insisted on going out once to the market. The last couple hours she’s been typing away on her laptop, sitting in an armchair across from me in the living room. “Sounds like you’re typing a book.”
She peers up from her screen and smiles, “No. I’m actually playing around with my website.” Her smile transforms into something almost malevolent, and I wonder what she has up her sleeve. “You should take a look.”
I nod, bringing out my phone from my pocket and go to the website she has for Delish. I see a brand new “locations” tab at the top and click on it. Out comes a drop box for Melbourne, London, Nashville, New York, and Miami. “What do you have here?”
“While you were busy doing whatever it was with my father after the meeting was over, I had the opportunity to talk to Mariana, Natasha, and Katya a bit more. They happen to have quite the sweet tooths, and when I told them about Delish…they wanted in. They’re fronting me the money to have new locations and bring in quality pastry chefs to keep each bakery up and running in pristine condition. Mariana even made a phone call to a friend of hers in Sydney who can send someone to watch over my Melbourne shop. All of the bakeries will be using the recipes that I hand crafted myself, and while I accept that I’ll be dealing with this mess that is the Clans, my dreams will still be coming true.”
It amazes me how in such little time she’s accepted what is happening. She isn’t living in denial but is instead accepting her future for what it is – with the mob as part of it. Willow may not realize it, but she’s already accepted that she’s a princess of the Romanian mob.
Willow talks about her plans and I nod, giving her the idea that I’m paying attention, but the only thing that crosses my mind is how Ion had asked about the progress on her marrying a Romanian man. I don’t want it to happen. Fuck it, I won’t allow it to happen. Everything that Willow has spoken up about is right, and she’s not in the seventeen hundreds. Why should she have to marry someone? She doesn’t need to marry anyone. She’s already spoken for, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
James comes into my view and begins to speak, “Duncan, Domn wants to talk with you.” I rise from the chair I’m sitting in and head for Kristof’s study. James will stay with Willow until I get back. I rap lightly on the door to Kristof’s study and wait to hear him call me inside. Once he does I turn the knob on the door and walk inside, shutting the door firmly behind me so that we have some level of privacy. “Domn,” I greet.
“Duncan,” he says back . “She did very well at the meeting, surpassing my expectations even.” I tend to agree with him. She handled herself very well.
“Yes. I don’t believe you have much to worry about.”
“Oh, but I do. There is much that her and I have yet to discuss, like her potential suitor. I’m thinking that Stefan Dalca will be a good fit for her. I hear through the grapevine that his father has been very adamant about him marrying a Romanian girl soon. With all the issues with clan members being targeted, it’s important that we continue to produce heirs.”
I clench my jaw and tighten my fist, upset by what Kristof just said to me. “He’s not looking for a wife. He’s looking for a breeder.”
Kristof’s expression shifts. It’s obvious that I don’t agree with what he wants for her. “That is her job, Duncan. She is to provide for her husband heirs, as is any important woman.”
“She isn’t a cow. She’s a fucking human,” I grumble out, never once speaking to Kristof in the way that I am now.
Kristof cackles, rolling his eyes at me. “I am supporting Stefan courting my daughter and anything that comes of it. What I will never support is her being with you. I can tell that you have obvious feelings for my daughter, Duncan, but heed my warning. You will never get anywhere with her. The only thing you will be doing is guarding her with your life, but you will never be part of hers. It’s best you understand that now. She deserves better than you, now get out of my damned sight.” I cross my arms in front of me as he speaks his mind, and possibly even his heart. Kristof isn’t wrong, she does deserve better than me, but she deserves better then Stefan Dalca too.
Chapter Fourteen
Willow
I stare at the fire in the fireplace in front of me, the flickering flame as it dances across the path of my eyesight. I have done a lot of zoning out lately. I am bored out of my damn mind here, and I hate it. I hate hearing the whispers behind my back about the awful goings on of the clans. I want to pretend as long as possible that I have nothing to do with this and that I will find my way out. I even do as much to distract myself with working on the new Delish locations. But something about today feels utterly different. There's a silence that has settled over everything that makes me feel like my little fantasy world of hope is coming to an end.
I know that my father is ill. I know that's why I am here, expected to take over because he is going to die and has no other heir. The rest lost their lives in this evil world that I wanted no part of. Why I was being viewed as different, like my fate wouldn't be the same, I don't quite get. Maybe there is something about this Duncan guy that they think makes him invincible, and since he is seeing to my protection and imprisonment, really, I will be fine. There is nothing fine about this. And that's the one thing I will never pretend, even as I stand here with diamonds dripping from my ears and a jumpsuit that likely costs as much as the building where my pastry shop resides.
Duncan appears by my side seemingly out of nowhere, but I don't let go of the flames as I sip at the cup of tea I am holding. My hand is shaking though because it is almost like I know what he is here to tell me before he says a word. I can see his reflection in the glass, and his usual smile is replaced by a stern frown.
He is not here to joke or tease today.
"Your father is asking for the both of us," he says seriously. I don't even flinch, but I am also not going to give him the usual hard time that I do.
"Why?" I ask simply, even though I know the answer deep down. My heart feels like it is freezing in my chest in preparation for this because there is nothing that I want to hear to change my mind about him or this life or my mother. Nothing about what I know of the life I have lived and the unfairness of it. I have seen these scenes in a million movies where the child and the father bond at that last moment of life when mortality is so clear, but I have to hold onto the truth. I am not going to be broken by this.
"You know why. It's time," he answers, nodding in the direction of the room where my father has been held up for several days now with people caring for him and visiting off and on.
I turn around and put one manicured foot in front of the other, not looking at Duncan or at anything in particular as I walk into the dim light of the room and smell the sickness. I don't know if anyone else can smell that, but every time I have been around anyone sick, it's smelled this way. This pungent odor of ichor that comes from the flesh. Maybe this is just worse because of what I think of the man. It smells just like one would assume death does.
I keep my face blank as we come to stand at the end of the bed. I aim for the left corner, close enough to hear and see h
im but far enough away that he can't reach for my hand or anything.
I am most annoyed that Duncan has to be here with me. If my father wasn't clearly on his deathbed, I would pop a comment about how he should just come to piss with me too.
His voice is hoarse as he begins to choke his way through what he is saying. "Willow," he begins, addressing me by my name so sweetly I almost think that he might have cared more than he let on all these years. "I know that I have kept you at a distance and that you have not had the kind of care and closeness you need since your mother's death. I know that I allowed my own prejudices to keep me from your life growing up. I apologize."
My arms cross over my chest without me even realizing I am doing it. It's like a physical block from my heart. It's too late to let him in now. And as if he reads my mind, he mentions it next.
"I wish I could make you feel like you mean more to me than as a clan heir, but I know it is too late for that. All I can do is wish you strength and as much happiness and a long life as what my money, power, and men can afford you."
He starts in on another coughing fit as Duncan goes to his side to comfort him. It becomes clearer than ever that Duncan has been treated in a way that maybe I should have. He is rubbing his back and helping him through this. I see in Duncan's eyes that he cares for this man, and it finally hits me that what he said before was true; that it isn't about the money for him. They have some kind of bond. I don't know what to feel about that. If it is supposed to make either of them seem more human to me or something.
Then, in barely above a whisper, my father gives Duncan an order.
"Be loyal to her like you were to me. Always protect her. Always put her first, and forget what I had said to you. I was wrong, Duncan. I was so wrong…"
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