Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection

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Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection Page 88

by Dakota Willink


  But to hear the man speak, he made it seem like he’d singlehandedly created the empire he proudly ran. Left to his own devices, the family would have fallen to one of the rival organizations vying for position in Berlin before I hit twenty.

  If my grandfather, Opa Steven, hadn’t made me promise on his deathbed to keep the family going, I would have turned my back on the whole thing before I’d started college in America. Nothing was holding me to the city, family, or country of my birth. My grandfather was dead, my mother was dead, my sister was dead.

  All because of the bastard sitting across from me.

  My vow to Opa Steven was the only reason I was willing to put up with my father’s bullshit demands. How someone so great as my grandfather could have sired a loudmouth know-it-all for a son, who sat on his ass instead of getting his hands dirty, was beyond me. It would shock me if Jonas Weber even knew how to shoot a gun.

  “The last thing I need is a bride. I won’t have some debutante kidnapped as a way to get back at our family.”

  “Don’t argue with me, boy. This is done. You will do as I say.”

  “I run the business. I call the shots. What makes you think I’m going to fall in line because you ordered it?”

  A calculating gleam entered my father’s eyes. “I know you’ll do as I say because you want the glory. Everything you’ve done to date is in my name. And if you ever want full control, you will marry Russo Benz’s daughter.”

  “I will not.”

  He slammed his fist on the table. “You will, and you will do it with a smile. I don’t care if you marry her and only fuck her one time to get the deal sealed, but you will marry her.”

  “Give me one good reason I should comply. I don’t need you.”

  “You want me to step down. I’ll do it within a month of you taking your vows.”

  This was too easy. There was something else he was up to.

  “I don’t buy it. You’d never give up the power. You like it too much.”

  A scowl marred his face. I was the only one around who told him like it was and wasn’t afraid of him ordering a hit on me. The men he would order to take me out were loyal to me and would turn a gun on Jonas before even thinking to do anything to me.

  “Any man who says he doesn’t like power is a liar.” He paused. “I have a deal for you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  The smirk on his face said he believed he’d gotten my compliance. “You’ve spent the last ten years trying to find out who murdered your whore of a mother. Well, I’ll give you the name.”

  I clenched my jaw, holding in the urge to punch him.

  “And you’re the pussy who allowed his wife and daughter to be raped and murdered.” I struck his ego with deliberate coldness.

  The best way to get under Jonas’s skin was to deliver a blow with calm calculation. He’d never had the discipline or the skill to counter these kinds of blows.

  Opa Steven had taught me the only way to manage the family was to keep emotions locked away, never reveal any weakness, and most of all, never, ever let temper guide decisions.

  Jonas’s face grew red. Bringing up my baby sister Hannah always struck a nerve. She was his one love, not his wife, or me. Hannah had been a light in a house full of anger, full of demands, and full of hate. I never begrudged Hannah for escaping the “discipline” Jonas had wielded on me in order to turn me into a man. Hannah had been the one to hide me when Jonas was pissed off about one thing or another. She would find some way to redirect Jonas away from me.

  “It was your mother’s fault Hannah was with her that day. She’s to blame.”

  “And you did nothing to protect either of them.”

  The day my mother and Hannah were taken, their usual security detail was on assignment for Jonas. In their place was a group of new recruits into the family. Sending anyone without experience to protect the wife of a mob boss was beyond stupid, and yet Jonas viewed his wife’s life as expendable. The fact Hannah had decided to go along on their shopping trip wasn’t anyone’s fault. From everything I’d learned after I’d returned home, it was Mama and Hannah’s biweekly outing that Jonas should have known about.

  “There was no way to know she wasn’t meeting her lover.”

  Jonas would constantly accuse her of cheating. Everyone knew it wasn’t true. Mama was watched day and night because of Jonas’s paranoia.

  Mama had been originally promised to my uncle and my father’s older brother, Andrew. The two had been friends since they were teens and fell in love as they grew older. The match had been a perfect way to align neighboring families. When Andrew was killed in a territory war with a rival, Opa Steven rearranged the marriage contract for Jonas. In the beliefs of the families, one son was as good as another when it meant keeping the peace.

  It wasn’t until after the marriage that Opa Steven and everyone realized what a fucked-up, sadistic bastard Jonas was. The vibrant woman people would describe my mother as being disappeared, and the only important things in her life became Hannah and me. Even if she were having an affair, I wouldn’t have faulted her for seeking some semblance of comfort in the world of abuse she lived in.

  “There was no lover. It was your paranoia for the fact your wife loved your dead brother more than she ever cared for you. You had the chance to get them back, yet you sat in this office and let them be slaughtered.”

  “Webers do not negotiate. Arabella knew the danger of going out in the middle of a war.”

  The peace, or relative peace, the family had enjoyed for twenty-five years under Opa Steven had disappeared within months of Jonas taking over.

  “That’s right—you like to pretend you had no choice by blaming the victim for your lack of balls.”

  This was getting boring. It was our normal interaction. Jonas ordering me to do something and me ignoring him. For some reason, he hadn’t thrown me out of his office by my second retort.

  Might as well end it now. I had an assignment to get to, and sparring with this asshole was keeping me from preparing. If only I could tell this dipshit that in addition to running the business he had neglected, I worked as a spy for Interpol, the very organization looking to take him down. My connections and position gave me access into areas it would take others ten times the manpower.

  I was just about to stand and tell Jonas to fuck off with his plans and digs, when he pulled out a gun and pointed it in my direction.

  His face was determined, but he wouldn’t pull the trigger. He needed me too much. I held his glare.

  “You will marry that girl. You will expand our holdings. And you will fall in line.”

  “As I told you. Give me one good reason why I should do anything you say. The way I see it, the only one benefiting from this is you.”

  “No, boy, it’s about you. How badly do you want to find out who killed Arabella and Hannah?”

  “Why would it matter to you now? You never tried to look before, and by the time I could, the trail was cold.”

  “That’s not true. I damn well looked. I lost my little girl. I used every connection to find the bastards who did it.” His voice cracked, surprising me.

  That was the first I’d ever heard about him looking. But then again, I’d been away at university in the States. Finding out Mama and Hannah had been killed after being kidnapped had nearly destroyed me. If Opa Steven hadn’t kept the knowledge of their deaths from me, I would have been on the next flight back to Germany instead of finishing my exams.

  When I’d finally gotten home, there was nothing I could do. Jonas had raged about how Mama deserved everything she got but not his Hannah. He’d shown no inclination to find the killers, only laid blame on everyone, including me.

  “Let’s just agree to disagree. Your efforts were more than likely half-assed, in the exact way you run the family.”

  “You watch your mouth, boy. I’m still in charge here.” He waved the gun, his movements erratic, making me think he may shoot me by mistake more than intention.
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  “Boss.” One of Jonas’s security shifted toward him. “You need him, sir.”

  Even his own men knew without me running things, they wouldn’t have a future.

  “Go ahead and do it, old man. Remember, if I survive, one word from me and your life will take a very dramatic turn for the worse. Who do you think our allies are going to align with? You or me?”

  Jonas set the gun on the table, gesturing for one of his men to take it. The man immediately complied and wrapped it in a handkerchief.

  “To put your plan into play, you would go against your dear Opa’s wishes? Or do deathbed promises mean nothing to you?”

  How the fuck would he know about the promise? I’d been the only one in the room when he’d asked me to vow to keep the family intact. Which in Opa’s world meant keeping Jonas in charge until the next generation was born. Then and only then would I get the reins, even if I ran everything behind the scenes.

  “You bugged his room. The man built you an empire and you showed him no respect, even at the end.”

  “The man, as you say, wasn’t the saint you want to believe. His hands were as dirty as the rest of ours. People only respected him out of fear.”

  And Jonas was probably the shadiest of us all. One day soon the world as he knew it would collapse. I was laying the foundation, piece by piece.

  “We’re going around in circles. My answer to your proposal is no.”

  I rose from my seat and moved to the door.

  Right when my fingers circled the doorknob, Jonas said, “I’m not the one who arranged this marriage, I’m the one to enforce the contract.”

  I turned, not believing a word coming out of his mouth. This whole conversation had been a waste of my time. I was due in Italy for an assignment, and my jet was ready to leave as soon as I made it to the airstrip.

  “And who arranged it?”

  “Arabella and your Opa. The proof’s here.” He pulled out an envelope and tossed it across the table.

  I walked back to the desk, grabbed the envelope, and opened it. I couldn’t believe what I was reading.

  Ten years ago, only months before Mama’s death, Opa Steven with Mama as a witness had signed a betrothal contract between Eloisa Benz and me. It was also an agreement to combine all of the Benz territories running from Berlin to the Baltic Sea and west to the North Sea with the Weber holdings. The marriage would create the largest-held territory in Germany.

  I ran a hand through my hair. This couldn’t be happening. There had to be a way out of it. It was the fucking twenty-first century.

  Then Opa Steven’s words echoed in my head. “Promise to keep the family going and not stray from the plans I’ve set in motion. Some things you won’t understand and will want to refuse to complete, but you must go through with them. Promise me, my boy. Let me see your Oma knowing our family’s future is safe.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I had no choice. I never went back on my word. I was going to have to marry this Eloisa Benz. God help both of us. The last thing any woman should want to do was join my family.

  3

  Isa

  “Isa, where have you been?” My grandmother pushed me toward my father’s office. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. I hadn’t gotten enough sleep, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with whatever I’d done wrong today. I wished I was the debutante my parents wanted me to be, but it just wasn’t me. So, the best I could do was pretend. Well, at least in public.

  “I swear, Oma. I haven’t done anything this time.”

  She gave me a skeptical lift of her right brow. “Hasi, you know as well as I do your intentions are innocent, but your delivery has much to be desired.”

  I should’ve taken offense to my grandmother calling me a soft and cuddly rabbit at twenty-five, but it had been her term of endearment for me since I was a roly-poly baby who could barely walk on my chubby legs.

  “Papa only gets offended because I don’t do as he says. Women can do work and accomplish something even if they have the option not to.”

  “It isn’t done, Isa. You aren’t like other girls. If you were hurt or taken, it would destroy our family.”

  My shoulders slumped. I’d heard this nearly every day of my life. It was my burden as the only child of Russo Benz, and the fact I was female. If I’d been born the favored gender, none of the restrictions I lived with would have fallen on me.

  “I’m not as weak as everyone believes.”

  Instead of responding, Oma kissed my forehead and shoved me in the direction of the hallway that led to Papa’s office.

  It was a lost cause to get my Oma to understand that there was more to my life than finding the right match, or making the right social connections.

  The world around us had modernized, but the organized families with generations of history hadn’t evolved. I knew without a doubt, if anyone got wind of what I did on the regular, Papa would lock me in this house and have one of his guards on my ass at all times. Thankfully, the protection Papa had assigned to me since I was five was loyal to me. Plus, I paid them a hefty extra salary on top of what Papa gave them to keep my secrets.

  I approached the oversized wooden door to Papa’s office and knocked.

  “Come in, Schatz,” Papa called from the other side.

  No one would believe the man known for his ruthless control of his territory for over twenty-five years used pet names for his daughter.

  I entered, expecting Papa to be alone, but Mama sat in a chair across from him. She wrung her hands together and wouldn’t look me in the eyes. From the puffiness of her face, it was obvious she’d been crying, and Papa looked no better.

  I narrowed my gaze, worry creeping in. Mama rarely, if ever cried.

  “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

  “You did this. You tell Isa,” Papa said to Mama. The anger in his tone told me whatever was going on had been done behind his back. “The last thing I’d ever want was anyone from that family touching my daughter.”

  What the hell was going on?

  “Mama. What did you do?”

  Tears spilled down her face. “Please know I agreed to this when your Opa was alive. I never expected Arabella to die. I’d never have accepted the contract otherwise.”

  Arabella? She couldn’t mean Arabella Weber. She’d been Mama’s childhood best friend but had lost touch when she’d married Jonas Weber. Mama used to say that if Arabella’s first fiancé had lived, she would have been happy, instead of miserable with Jonas Weber. The fact that she was kidnapped, murdered, and her husband had done nothing to save her proved it.

  Did Mama just say contract? What the hell?

  “I’m not following. What contract?”

  Mama pulled a tissue from the box on Papa’s desk and dabbed her eyes.

  “Spit it out, Christina.”

  “I…I…” She hesitated.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake. Your mother and grandfather arranged your marriage to Sebastian Weber. I didn’t find out the details until Weber sent the contract to us, saying it was time.”

  “You have to be kidding me. I’m not getting married. I don’t even know the man.”

  Someone had to really be off their rocker to think I’d accept this without argument.

  “That’s not all. Marrying him means our families are joined. Since I don’t have a son, Weber’s son will take over the family upon my death. It means your child with Weber will eventually rule everything.”

  This couldn’t be real. No one did that shit anymore. No, that wasn’t true—no one in the world outside of families like mine did that shit anymore. But I never thought Mama of all people would agree to this.

  “I don’t understand. Why would Opa do this? Why would you?” I accused my mother. “I was fifteen when this was drawn up. And he was probably…I don’t even know how old this guy is.”

  Her eyes were filled with sadness, but I couldn’t care less. She’d never told me
, never told any of us, and she put our whole family on the line. My heart ached. She knew I hadn’t been a traditional girl from the time I became a teen. I was the exact opposite of what a well-bred princess was.

  Instead of responding to the questions I wanted her to answer, she said, “He was nineteen.”

  “Did he know about it? Was I living all these years engaged?”

  “He didn’t know,” Papa said. “He’s about to learn this same news.”

  “This can’t be binding. It’s not legal.” I refused to accept this as my fate. But deep inside, I knew there was no getting out of it.

  “Schatz, I’m sorry. The contract was made by the heads of our families. Our honor depends on it. Your Opa wanted this and made it so we…you could not refuse.”

  My temper boiled over. “What does that mean?”

  “If you refuse, our business, holdings, everything transfers to the Webers. This part is very legal. If you accept, a trust with one hundred and fifty million Euros will transfer into our names. Yours and mine.”

  “And if he refuses?”

  “He won’t.” The tone of Papa’s voice made me think Sebastian Weber was as bad as his father. “He’s set to inherit everything. He will essentially control over half of Germany and parts of Poland and the Netherlands. No man would turn this down. Plus, Jonas Weber will inherit his own trust as a retired family head.”

  My stomach dropped. I didn’t want the money. I didn’t need the money. I made enough to support myself.

  None of that mattered. For my family, I was going to have to marry someone I’d never met, knew nothing about, and could only guess had a dark side. Who was I kidding? Most men raised in our world weren’t the nice, adoring kind. They were ruthless, took what they wanted, and had no qualms about using force, deadly or not.

  Papa had always been the exception in my eyes. Then again, I only focused on the man who raised me. Not the mobster I knew he was, with a territory that he expanded and kept in control using whatever force needed for twenty years. Papa doted on me. He would’ve loved more children, especially a son. But his love for Mama kept him from divorcing her or having a mistress who could give him children.

 

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