by S. M. Maddox
Now, we were entering a modern looking great room, which except for the antler chandelier a la Gaston’s Tavern, looked more IKEA and minimalist. Vikings and their IKEA.
The kitchen appeared as though it was something straight out of Better Homes & Gardens – Chef Edition. While it was clearly a commercial kitchen, it also had a certain je ne sais quoi about it that made me think a woman rather than a chef had originally designed it.
The entire kitchen smelled of divine, eggy goodness A chubby little man with a giant chef hat and a steampunk mustache danced around the stove, his back to us as we approached. Roland cleared his throat, alerting the man to our presence.
“Roland! Where have you been? I had to throw out all of your premade meals! You know how much I hate to waste food. The next time you go on hiatus from this house, you text me and let me know! There are plenty of people here who’d love my cooking for free!” He practically shouted at Roland, nearly ignoring me completely before he realized it wasn’t just the two of them. “Ah. Now it all makes sense.”
“Pierre, this is Jessie. She’ll be living with us from now on.”
“Mademoiselle,” he rushed over to me before taking my hand and bowing. His accent turned suddenly French. It was even more surprising to me that he had to fake it.
“Are you French or are you not? I can’t tell.”
“Not by birth, only in spirit. Though, I schooled there and my mother grew up there. She had a tragic affair with my father, in that he didn’t want to leave his wife for her and come to the States. Lost loves and Louboutin’s. Life is what happens while we’re making other plans, yes Cherie?” His words flowed in and out around the three of us like a melody.
“Sounds like that should be on a t-shirt.”
“Are you starving, mademoiselle?” Pierre danced back towards the stove, mounding two plates with fluffy egg-like substance.
“Those aren’t omelets?”
Roland whispered in my ear. “Pierre’s specialty. Omyes. Basically a quiche and an omelet had a baby. It’s the best thing you’ll ever put in your mouth, and enough protein for two days. Eat up, Malone, you’re gonna need it for later.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making me giggle.
“To be caught in young love again,” Pierre hummed as he started cleaning up the kitchen.
“Are you married, Pierre?”
“Abort! Abort!” Roland whispered so quietly I could barely hear him.
Pierre’s demeanor changed dramatically. “No! That MOTHERFUCKING BITCH! She took nearly everything I had! She stole my fucking Damascus steel knife set! It was given to me as a gift from the Prime Minister of France himself! If I ever see her again, I swear—”
Roland nudged me with his hip to quickly exit the room while Pierre was still ranting. Behind us, I could hear various pans and kitchen utensils starting to crash as they were undoubtedly being hurled across the kitchen at unfathomable speeds towards no target in particular.
“For the love of fuck, do not ever ask him about his ex-wife again. I should’ve warned you, Malone. That’s on me. There are still knife marks in the wall from when Anya accidentally mentioned her and he threw his entire set like darts at the refrigerator.”
We cut through the great IKEA room, taking a left at the antler chandelier. This place was so massive, I was going to have to start remembering landmarks. I gently nudged a piece of egg off my plate as soon as I realized I might seriously get lost.
Left at the antlers, right at the marble column, another right at the Venetian statue of a naked woman, circle around the indoor fountain, left at the other Venetian statue of a naked woman.
“Your house is ridiculous,” I mumbled through my chewing. I tossed a chive onto the floor to mark my way.
“Yeah, I know. But it made my mom really happy. Now we just mainly use it to intimidate people. We all live on the second floor, which isn’t nearly as elaborate.”
Roland’s voice sounded soft, and I realized he hadn’t told me hardly anything about his mom yet. I was under the impression that she’d passed, and that it had wounded him deeply, maybe even more so than his other two brothers. I’d be willing to bet he’d been her favorite, because hidden inside my beast was a heart of gold he didn’t like to show anyone who was unworthy of his trust.
After what seemed like hours of walking, Roland finally stopped at two tall glass double doors. I pushed another chive off my plate right as he turned his head.
“What’re you doing?”
“Marking a path so I don’t get lost.”
“Malone. Have you seriously been dropping food throughout the house?”
“I mean, it was mostly chives. They’re biodegradable.”
“Not on fucking imported marble, they’re not.”
“Don’t get all hoity toity at me, Andersen. You know good and well I’m not afraid to challenge you.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.” He shot me a grin that said, “How ‘bout that exhibitionism?”
Roland pushed one of the doors open before I had time to make a snappy comeback. Painted above the doors, in tiny gold lettering was the phrase I’d seen on the cards at Assiduous.
Nothing stays, and nothing leaves.
I made a mental note to try and ask him about that later. We walked into the conference room (who has a conference room in their housemansion?) and were greeted by Thor, Anya and.. and… Sweet Lord of Mercy.
“You met Baby Bro and Baby Sis-in-law. This is Old Bro.”
This tall, blonde, sex god of a man walked towards me. He had short blonde hair, and a close, well-trimmed breath of stubble on his square jaw. And his eyes, they were golden. The James Bond theme automatically kicked started in my head.
Golden eyes, that reminded me a lot of Roland’s in that they were deep and undisturbed, like the Mariana trench. They were just begging for someone to come stir them up, ignite the life back into them. And of course, of course, he had a perfectly handsome, chiseled face to match. He was Roland’s brother, how could he not?
Magnus wasn’t my type exactly, but he was still stunning enough to take my breath away for a second. Seeing, smelling, the three brothers in the same room was enough to excite and alert my pheromones to all the testosterone surrounding me. I felt like I was stuck in the love child of the Calvin Klein Encounter ad with Alexander Skarsgard, and the Brioni suit ad with Armie Hammer. You know what I mean? And if you don’t, stop and google that shit right now so you have an inkling of what was surrounding me. Instant orgasm.
Clearly, I had caught the sexiest brother, but either of the other two would’ve been a fine as hell consolation prize.
I glanced over at Anya, who concealed a secretive, knowing smile from her fiancé. She silently nodded to me, and I understood her instantly. Ah yes, all women (me and you) experience this sudden state of unencumbered bliss upon seeing them all for the first time.
My eyes widened at her for just a split second. Holy hell, woman. And we live here?
She nodded again, and raised her glass slightly. Hell yeah we do, we’re the motherfucking Viking warrior queens.
That exchange happened in about three seconds flat, and to the total obliviousness of the men in the room, but it was enough to cement a deep, sacred sisterly bond between Anya and I. Suddenly, my new life felt extremely real, and I felt in control of the situation for the first time in a long time.
Magnus approached me, extending his hand. He was wearing dark grey designer dress pants, with a matching vest. His light grey shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his golden tie made the gold in his eyes even brighter, like two headlights coming straight towards me.
“He was trying to tell you that my name is Magnus, but Roland gets tripped up over his tongue and word vomits on the regular.” His tone was serious, yet playful. Then he let go of my hand and made a sharp movement to his right, hooking underneath the plate of eggs Roland was holding to punch him in the stomach. Roland winced as the rest of us giggled.
“Gotta keep him on his
toes,” Magnus said as he winked at me and turned around to resume his place at the head of the conference table.
The room was huge and swallowing. Anya moved to sit beside Magnus, with Thor beside her. Roland and I followed, mirroring them. Anya leaned over the table as far as she could and whispered loudly, “We’re going to have so much fun together.” She held her hands outstretched towards me, and I did the same. Instinctively, we wiggled our fingers together as the three men stared at us in shock.
“What. The. Fuck. Was that?” Roland said, grumpily.
“Girl stuff, you probably wouldn’t understand. Or maybe you would. It’s like when you’re all in the bathroom and you wave your dicks around at each other,” Anya quipped cheerfully.
Roland’s mouth dropped open as Thor tried to contain his laughter. “What the fuck do you tell her, Baby Bro? We most certainly do not do that. Ever. It’s in the man code.”
“Sure, you do. I know what sword fighting is,” Anya stated matter-of-factly.
“Yeah like, not since I was five. Quit letting her google the urban dictionary, you idiot.”
Thor was laughing so hard he was all but falling out of his seat. Magnus, though clearly entertained, just grinned and cleared his throat.
“Roland. You called an emergency meeting. Let’s get on with it,” Magnus interrupted Thor’s laughter.
“Where’s Dad?”
“Dad’s in California on business, and I’ve got a conference call in less than two hours.”
Roland stood up, placing my backpack on the table.
He gently and methodically unzipped it and pulled out the contents, placing my folders into neat piles of no certain importance, and cleared his throat.
What followed was nothing short of mesmerizing. Despite the fact that Roland was wearing only his undershirt and his dress pants, the items of clothing that had the least amount of Otis’ blood all over them, he could’ve been wearing a Superman outfit and still been just as commanding a presence. His demeanor changed, his voice changed, his posture changed. As Roland single handedly altered the entire atmosphere in the room, I thought to myself, no wonder they called him the Wolf in the courtroom.
Glancing around me, I noticed that everyone else watched him intently, giving him their full, undivided attention. Maybe they were used to him by now, but he was still a sight to behold.
“A while back, Ms. Malone had a fabulous life. She was on top of her career, prominent newswoman, good friends, great dog by her side.”
Shit, he was going to make me cry. He’d been damn good at distracting me from the fact that my dog had been brutally murdered this morning.
“She had a great house, a booming career, celebrity status in the city of Hartford. But all that changed, because of her tender heart. You see, Ms. Malone here had a friend, and that friend was Mrs. Collins, wife to Bart Collins. Mr. Collins had been brutally slain in cold blood, a message from the local mafia. Mrs. Collins, as one does, asked Ms. Malone here to look into the case for her. She asked her to use her background as an investigative journalist to try and dig up information.
“But, Ms. Malone went one step further. She called her ex-fiancé, Jack McCallister, who was on the local police force. Together, Ms. Malone and Mr. McCallister took the law into their own hands, determined to get to the bottom of Mr. Collins’ untimely demise.
“That’s where our story takes a turn, because you see, Mr. McCallister hit too close to home. Someone on the force was alerted to his actions, which put he and Ms. Malone in danger. Unknowingly, a mole was infiltrated into WFYR, under the disguise of the new producer, Jason March. He proceeded to woo Ms. Malone, to get close to her and earn her trust so that he could find out what she knew.
“Until one day in July, it all came to a head. You see, Ms. Malone had no idea March was a rat. He was, in fact, Giuseppe Marchese, of the Marchese crime family. She had no idea his people had captured her beloved McCallister and that he too, would on that day meet his untimely demise, in the same fashion as Mr. Collins previously had.”
Anya gasped as I felt myself tearing up again just hearing Roland’s summary of my life thus far. Thankfully, he’d spared the details or I would’ve lost it completely.
“Then, and only then, did Ms. Malone learn the true extent of the predicament she was in. Her boss and current lover belonged to a mafia family, and they were not happy with how close she and Mr. McCallister had come to exposing them. Ms. Malone nearly paid with her life, after a brutal attack left her hospitalized in a coma for time being. The Marchese family chased her out of her job, out of her home and out of her town, taunting her every step of the way.
“Little did they know, Mr. McCallister was smarter than all of them. He had left Ms. Malone a paper trail of all of his research and findings, including a note strongly suggesting she come to Fries should anything happen to him. Mr. McCallister had discovered the Marchese family’s one weakness. He’d found their one fear.”
I looked at Magnus, who was eagerly leaning forward, his elbows on the table and his head propped on his fists. Anya’s mouth had fallen open in anticipation, and Thor was leaning in Roland’s direction as far as he possibly could without laying on the table. I was as captured as they were, even though I knew what was coming next.
“What was it?” Anya quietly squeaked, her eyes wide, afraid that the Marchese family might hear her if she spoke too loudly.
Roland paused for dramatic effect, and then quietly spoke. “The Andersen brothers.”
Anya squealed and clapped her hands wildly. “Yes! I knew it! Nobody messes with my man! And then you fell in love!”
Roland continued, ignoring her squeals of delight. “Mr. McCallister had left a file, and a clue only Ms. Malone could decipher in case something should happen to him. He knew he was on to something big, something criminal that spanned several states at least. Mr. McCallister had discovered that not only had Jason March infiltrated WFYR, but other members of the Marchese family had infiltrated higher, more important positions of power and authority.
“Ms. Malone fled here to Fries, restarting her life over yet again since getting entangled with the Marchese family. She took a job many levels beneath her as a legal researcher at Andersen Brothers, so that she could not only rebuild the notes she’d had, but also gain my trust in the process.
“Then, tragically this morning, once again and for the final time, the Marchese family got too close to Ms. Malone. Her beloved dog, her best friend in the whole world, was brutally slain right on her own front porch, while Ms. Malone and I were inside.”
Roland pulled out his phone and showed them pictures he’d taken of Otis’ crime scene, before I’d even known what had happened to my sweet boy. He was careful not to let me see. Anya gasped, her eyes quickly tearing up as Thor nestled her into his body for comfort.
“A gutsy, yet cowardly move. If I’d have known we were being watched, if I’d have known that there was a murderer on her front porch, I’d have strangled him with my bare hands. Ms. Malone came to Fries armed with a plan of action, and we’re going to be the people who help her.
“As of two hours ago, she’s moving into my wing of the mansion. As of this weekend,” he looked over at me for confirmation as I wiped the tears from my eyes. Roland sat back down, pulling me into his strong arms for comfort. “As of this weekend, Ms. Malone is officially my girlfriend and unofficially my future wife.”
Magnus and Thor sat there quietly, contemplating everything Roland had just bombed on them. It was kind of a lot to take in, all at once. Roland tightened his hold around my body as he kissed my tears away until they stopped falling.
Magnus quietly picked up his phone and called his PA. His voice was steady as he spoke, betraying no emotion. “Sarah. Cancel my conference call today, and clear my schedule for this whole week. Something came up. No, don’t give anyone any information. Tell them I’m under the weather and I won’t be in the office this week.”
When I had composed myself, Roland stood u
p once again. He waved his hands across my files, as if to present them and turned to me. “Show us what you’ve got so far, Malone.”
“I can’t. I don’t have anything clear cut. I just have a bunch of jumbled pieces and it’s not right and it’s not there and I just don’t know. I’ve got Jack’s notes, sure, but I’m only halfway to piecing mine back together. It’s a lot of accusations and zero solid proof.” I started talking faster, my voice growing higher the more I realized how unprepared I actually was for this moment.
Roland’s voice was steady and arresting, making me mentally fall to my knees in front of him. “Malone. Show us what you’ve got.”
I stood up, slowly counting down in my head to calm my nerves. I reorganized Roland’s piles of folders, taking the liberty to stretch them out over the whole rest of the conference table, which was at least twelve feet.
“Take your time, Jessie.” Roland urged me on, trying to comfort my shaky hands.
“Jack did surveillance work. Anybody we suspected, he ran background checks on and followed until he felt like he could clear them. These are his pictures of their faces and cars.” I made the first pile and explained it. Magnus, Thor and Roland all stood up and slowly followed my movements.
The three of them all moved with deadly grace and ease, like lions roaming through the savannah. Carefully, delicately placing each foot so as to not alert their prey, they circled around the table. The calculating looks behind their eyes impressed, intimidated and terrified me all at once. Suddenly, the realization dawned on me. These were the looks of hitmen. The Andersen brothers were killers, literal killers who didn’t tolerate anything shady. That’s how they maintained their real control. That’s how they instill fear in their enemies.
It wasn’t some bullshit story about ham and cheese sandwiches. It was actual death.
A shudder ripped through my chest as I made eye contact with Magnus. My breath hitched in my throat as he waited for me to make a move. My heart started beating so loudly in my chest that I could hear it in my ears, and I was positive that they could, too. They knew I now knew their secret.
