Anguish

by Elizabeth Knox

  “Graham!” I shout, seeing as he’s heading straight towards the fish pond Duncan had fought me on adding. He said it’d be a great idea, whereas I argued. I told him Graham would drown in it, and look what just about happened. He flips his head back in my direction and smirks, bending down on his knees and sticks his hands in the water. I start to walk over towards him, and the next thing I know he has a fish and throws it out on the grass. Oh my word!

  I dash over and pick the slimy thing up, tossing it back into the pond. Poor thing, at least now it’ll be able to breathe. Graham laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen and does it again. This time, I grab the fish and scoop my little tyke up into my arms. He’s the perfect combination of Duncan and I. He’s blessed with his father’s beautiful blonde hair and my dark as midnight eyes. Olive skin runs across his body, and his father’s smile beams through him.

  “Fishie!” He points to the pond, pouting at me. He’s so much like his father; stubborn as hell.

  Harris cackles in the background and speaks up, “You just had to fight Duncan on the dog.”

  “Yes, I most certainly did. We don’t have time for a dog, you know that. We’re always running around and handling business. Who’d be at home with the poor thing?”

  “Gee, I dunno. Your Dad’s two ancient shits and the entire household staff?”

  I roll my eyes at Harris, part of the reason I didn’t want to add another dog into the mix is because my father’s dogs are getting older, and I don’t want to add additional stress onto them. It’s hard enough with Graham wanting to play with them all the time, another dog would only serve to upset them.

  I walk into the house, and within a moment hear Duncan’s booming voice, “There’s my little Graham Cracker!” Our son giggles and wiggles as much as he can until I set him down onto the ground. He darts over to his daddy for some hugs and loving.

  “If I knew you were going to call him Cracker I wouldn’t have let you name him Graham.”

  “Why would I tell you my master plan before his birth certificate was signed?” Duncan smirks, talking in hushed whispers to our son. I can’t hear a damn thing he’s saying, but I know he’s up to no good. “On a more serious note, did you hear about what happened to the Mackenzies?” The Mackenzies are the Irish Mob. They’re good allies to the Clans, so immediately I am worried.

  “No, what’s happened?” I ask.

  “Greer and Sloane were in a crash this morning with Aleks and Aleksei.” Aleksandr Volkolv, the leader to the Russian Bratva. Greer and Aleks have been dating for quite a while now, much to both of their fathers’ disapprovals.

  “What’s happened to them?”

  “Aleks, Greer, and Sloane are okay. Aleksei, on the other hand, isn’t. He was pronounced dead at the hospital.”

  “Oh my god…” I cover my mouth with my hand as my heart breaks for Sloane Mackenzie. It was no secret that she’s been in love with Aleksei. “The poor girl.” Duncan has a stern look dragged across his face, “What is it? What are you thinking right now?”

  “That the Italians are either fucking with more families, or that Valentin is behind the killing of his son’s only brother.”

  “Jesus Christ…”

  “I know,” he says, looking down to our son who doesn’t have the slightest idea of what just unraveled. That innocence, that is what we’re going to protect. No more children will be slaughtered, no more families will be ripped apart. We have a duty, and a job.

  “Do Ion and Mariana know?”

  Duncan shakes his head, “I don’t believe so. I’ve already texted Ion and asked him to call me when he wakes up. If Desmond needs our support, he will have it.”

  I nod in complete agreement. The Mackenzie’s are our friends, and we’ll do anything to help them in their time of need.

  Deceit

  The Clans Book Four

  My best friend asked me to marry his sister...so I did everything I could to ensure it.

  I've been after Aria Funar for years, wanting her by my side, craving that woman and her spirit. Over the years I had watched her grow up and turn into the woman she's become. After a traumatic event happened to Aria, her father branded her as damaged, irrelevant, she was deemed useless to him.

  Now, and only now am I worthy of marrying his daughter - because the tragic things that have happened to her ultimately brought her down to my level in her father's eyes.

  She isn't this broken little thing, and seeing the demons she battles every day destroys me.

  I made a promise to Aria, that I wouldn't allow anything to ever harm her again.

  I'm not a good man, in fact I'm the exact opposite.

  I'm a monster, but I'm her monster.

  Chapter One

  Aria

  I nod at my father as he continues to talk to me, but a little bit of my focus has left at this point. His office sits up against the back window on the 58th floor. I can see what a nice day it is outside, and the city will come to life within the hour as people leave these drab towers of isolation and venture out into the L.A. sunshine.

  "It is any time now that we will start having legitimate bids for your hand in marriage, and your lineage means that you cannot be entirely in the dark. Especially now that there is such a call from Mariana for the women to have more control. I would love to see my precious daughter almost as powerful as my firstborn son." Baptiste Funar is my father, and he also happens to be the leader of the mob clan here in Los Angeles. A lot comes with being one of his children, including being married off to the highest bidder that suits who my father would think of as worthy. It is something I have accepted as I have grown up in this life. I am Switzerland when it comes to it. I don't condemn it because it's my job to respect these powerful men in my life, but I don't feel like I need to throw my full heart into it, not while I am still young and slightly free.

  "I understand, Tată," I tell him with a respectful smile on my face. "I will be ready."

  He nods back at me and quickly dismisses me as his phone begins to ring. I know the phone call is not something he wants me to hear, and I don't want to hear it either. I know just enough to get me by and not enough to tear my eyes and ears off because of the monster my father truly is when he isn't with me.

  I pause as I get out of the building and enjoy the feel of the sun on my face before I take a right down the street lined with businesses, headed to the car is parked in the garage and waiting for me right along with my personal driver and bodyguard. It just comes with the territory.

  One moment I am walking, almost to the garage, and the next there are hands on me, and I am dragged into the alley, harder to see by any passer-bys. Did I know that danger was a possibility in my life? Yes, I did. I have always known that there are people who want to hurt me or use me for the power my name holds, but with my father's office right behind me and my car not but yards away in the middle of the day is never how I imagined I would be taken.

  I begin to fight as blackness covers my eyes, a black sac put over my head. I am being moved like I weigh nothing as I kick and scream and claw. I feel so weak to help myself here even though I have made sure to take every self-defense class I can to prepare for the day something like this could happen. Whoever has me is just too strong.

  And then I hear a laugh, followed by the sharp prick of a needle.

  Now, I know nothing at all.

  Chapter Two

  Salvatore

  As I hold the phone up to my ear, my legs leisurely up on another chair in the office, I keep my eyes on the ocean that seems much too calm and out of place for the conversation I am having. This time, I am speaking directly to the Russian government, one of my higher paying customers, though their jobs are always the dangerous ones. I feign boredom as I listen to the details on the hit they want to put on a U.S. Senator. Being neutral comes with the line of work.

  Yes, I am a hit man. If you ask me, I am the best fucking hit man in the U.S. but I don’t feel the need to brag or say it out
loud. The number of jobs I get speaks for itself.

  An assassin, truly, is a better word for me. I don’t do things like these new age hillbillies. I am a trained, professional killer. I don’t hide it either, like many men would. No, because I know the weight of what I am and what it does for me to have everyone know.

  Once they know I kill people for a living, then they know. They don’t fuck with me, no matter how powerful or rich or strong they think they are because they are too damn terrified of what I will do to them.

  As they should be.

  "As soon as I see the funds transfer, you have my word it will be done. It will not come back to you," I assure the Russians, my tone too serious for them to ignore. My name alone, Salvatore Moretti, rolls of the tongue with respect, but they know my reputation. I don’t fuck around here. This is my business, and I don’t intend to fail now.

  As soon as I hang up the phone, I think I might get five minutes before I have to do anything else, but then it immediately rings again. I look at the caller i.d. and see that this time, it’s not a client at all. It’s my best friend, Marcellus Funar, who also just happens to be heir to the Funar mafia clan. These connections may or may not be another key to my success and intimidation, but I do truly care for the man.

  "Marcel," I say happily into the receiver, glad to have what I believe to be a friendly call for once. But the moment he speaks, I know that’s not what this is at all. Some shit is going down, and it puts me on edge.

  "I hate to call you just for a favor, prieten, but I don't have much time to spare right now. And it is de urgență." I can hear the stress in his tone, and this is a man that is hard to shake. I am sitting on the edge of my seat, sweat starting to form on my brow even though it is not the heat of the summer yet, and in fact, there is still rain in the forecast most days.

  "Whatever you need, Marcel," I tell him, letting him know I am here.

  "I need you to contact your guy," he tells me, his voice getting softer, so I barely make it out. I know exactly what he means. He needs my tracker. But who the hell is he tracking? This can’t be good.

  "Why would you need his info; what’s happened?" I ask, my teeth gritted, nostrils flaring.

  "Sal, she’s missing. Aria is gone. She hasn’t been seen in three days. But her social media is posting like she’s on some spontaneous, luxurious vacation in Brazil."

  "I am guessing by the sounds of things, you know she is not in Brazil," I say, trying to remain calm. Aria is his sister, and there is a lot to gain by taking her, no matter who did it. And there is a lot to lose if no one finds her quickly. Three days already feels like a decade, and my heartbeat races at the thought.

  "It’s total bullshit, Sal. Aria has been there once and hated the whole fucking trip. Not to mention I've had a friend look up her credit card transactions. She hasn’t used her card at all. That’s not what happens on a trip out of the country. She’d have to use it. I can’t put my finger on it, but something isn’t adding up right. I need to find my little sister."

  His last words sound urgent, and I can almost feel how close this cold hard mafia leader is to cracking. Aria is a soft spot for him, and for good reason. He loves and protects her, and I can’t say she doesn’t bring any protectiveness out of me either. I have to find out what is going on for both their sakes.

  "I will send everything to you. I will help you. If he has anything to tell you, keep me informed, Marcel," I tell him, but I know my guy, he'll tell me even if Marcel doesn’t. I am going to save Aria Funar.

  Chapter Three

  Aria

  My thoughts are everywhere as I feel myself again, coming to. I don’t know where I am yet, who has taken me, or why yet. Though, a million horrible thoughts are going through my head without any sort of order or control about how this is going to end; if my father will come for me or if I will die before he can find me.

  I guess when the word danger has been ingrained in you for such a long time you put it in the back of your mind and become desensitized. You live your life, and sometimes you even dare to let your guard down because nothing has happened yet. In your heart you know it doesn’t mean you are safe forever, but you behave as if you are.

  That’s what I have been doing now. I have done it for so long, it has become second nature like I am a normal girl. But I am nothing of the sort. I am Italian and Romanian, descended from a long line of rich and ruthless criminal leaders, and my blood means money and power. It means leverage and threats. If I make it out of here alive, I don’t think I would ever be able to forget that again.

  My eyes flutter open, and I notice that I am in a large, unfinished room. There is mostly concrete. It is not dirty, but it is a bit on the stuffy side. I am in a chair like an old dentist’s chair, buckled down. It is then that I know some of my worst fears are likely to be realized. I notice a bed over in the corner, but there is no comfort in that either. There are lots of cabinets, and I do not know what is in them. I don’t want to know.

  And then I hear footsteps. My head can turn, at least, and out of the corner of my eye, I see there is a set of stairs leading down from somewhere. Is this a basement? A better survey of the simple string light above me and what was a small window tells me only a little. It could be a basement or a small warehouse. L.A. has plenty of those, but it isn’t like I know for sure I AM still in L.A. But whose basement or warehouse? I think I am about to find out even though that question is probably safest going unanswered.

  I instantly recognize the man that walks in front of my clear view, and I don’t know whether I want to look way from his smirk or look into his eyes to show him I am not afraid. But I doubt not being afraid now will save me.

  "Cheng." It is a simple statement, a realization as to who has captured me. He is one of my father’s slimiest business associates; the leader of a Chinese gang that possibly does worse things than the mafia to earn its money and fearsome reputation. If he has me, he wants something from my father, and I hope it’s that simple. Because if my father has angered him, I won’t be spared. This man is very openly a monster. I can see it in the way he looks over me.

  "Aria, so nice of you to grace us with your presence," he says, the men who came down with him chuckling lightly at his asinine joke. I keep my face blank. There will be plenty of time to react, I am certain. "I thought it would be nice to have a little chat now that you're awake. Is that okay?"

  He waits, wanting an actual response from me. I nod my head and avoid an eye roll that could cost me my life. I am not useful in many aspects to Cheng, and so I doubt he would miss me if he felt rageful enough to end my life.

  "Good. I have always known the Funars to be understanding. Which brings me to the reason you’re here. See, this is not personal at all. Not against you, anyway. Your father hasn’t kept his end of the deal we have been working on. I don’t take too well to such things, as I am sure you know. I would guess your father has certain punishments for the same thing?"

  He squats down much too close to me for comfort. He again wants me to answer. I nod again, my heartbeat picking up at his words. Whether or not my father had a good reason to go back on a deal with this man, he must have realized what it could mean. I should have at least been warned...been better protected. But it is too late for that. The punishment falls on me.

  Cheng looks almost regretful as he speaks his next words. "Now, you will pay the ultimate price for his sin."

  Suddenly, everything is feeling very biblical as I realize I will have to face the sins of my father, and I wish I prayed more often, then I might know what to say to get saved right now or to at least pass out so I am oblivious to what will be done to me.

  With a sigh, Cheng stands back up, tugging at his taupe vest as if to smooth it out. "I want to be straight with you, Aria. I have plans for you and so do my men. You are in for a lot of long nights. First, we will take it slow. You will be tortured, beaten, just for fun. I will allow some of the newer members to do that; get their feet wet and all. You will
likely be in a lot of pain with your injuries, but I will not let them kill you. So, no worries there."

  His smile is like he is doing me a favor. There are some things worse than death, and I get the feeling I am about to know those things intimately.

  "Then, if you aren't too far gone, I am going to allow you the courtesy of a bed while a few of my men get to indulge in your untouched body. As you can imagine, not many of them get the pleasure of a complete virgin." I can barely hold it together now, and my head shoots up at that. There are so many reasons why that is the worst thing that can be done to me. I know exactly how this will affect both my father and myself, not just here and now, but in the long term.

  "Tomorrow, it will continue. More men will come to see you. I will give them the freedom to have you wherever they want, since you only be so pristine anymore. And then, you will continue to wake up and do it all over again. As I said, I do not want to kill you, at least not right now. Eventually, all my men will have you. Some of them like some pretty sick things, not enough love in their childhood or something," he says with a scoff and shake of his head. "And you will be spent. You will be viewed as a broken little thing, and that’s if your father even gets to look at your face again." That’s when he stops smiling and comes up to me, his fingers painfully digging into the sides of my mouth, forcing me to look into his eyes. "You will no longer be something Baptiste can use to his advantage."

  Yes, this is the worst thing he can do, and he knows it. If I am saved, if he lets me go, it won’t matter. There will be no turning back from what has been done to me. Even if it not by choice, my body will be considered soiled by my father and the other Romanian or Italian men he may have tried to marry me off to before. I will still be a Funar, but I will not be IN the family.