***
I stare at the lines on the test in shock. “Shit!” I curse under my breath, glad that we are locked in the bathroom on another floor from my office, no one able to get in here and find out what’s going on. A hearty meal awaits me at my desk, but I don’t think I will feel like eating it. “I don’t know what I am supposed to do,” I tell my best friend, tears coming to my eyes for the first time since the day I left Brazil. I had not allowed myself to cry after I cried myself to sleep that night in the house of my parents before packing up and leaving, buying a penthouse apartment with cash on the spot the very next day. I wasn’t going to live with them no matter how lonely it makes me to be on my own in the silence.
“You’ve only been away for a month, so you have plenty of time to figure this out, Presley,” Paulo assures me, but I can’t stop staring at this test, telling me that I am pregnant with my husband’s child.
In a normal world, while I would be scared, I should also be happy. Children are nothing short of miracles and beautiful things, especially in the confines of a loving relationship. But this means so many things I am not ready to face. It means that all of this time that I have been pushing back memories like it was all a dream, that the time I spent as Mrs. Dalca was real. It also means that not only have I gotten married way before I ever thought I would, but now I am going to be a mother much sooner as well. And a single mother at that. I luckily don’t have to worry about money at all, but I do have to worry about bringing her or him into a world without a father or facing a father who is in the mafia and no good influences from my family either. She will be treated like an outcast with my family, just like I am. My mother may be glad to have me back under her thumb, but it is nothing more than that; glad I am not running wild and making her look bad. I am sure she loves me in her own way, but it is not the way a mother should feel about her child.
I can say one thing for certain; I will never be like that. I would rather be poor than make my child feel like he or she is not good enough.
“You’re right, but I just don’t know where to begin or if I should even tell him. I mean, he’s going to find out. My life never stays private for long.”
“You just found out and aren’t going to show for at least another month or two, so just breathe for now and take care of yourself. That’s all you can do.”
I nod robotically and let him lead me back into my office, the sound of a crying baby ringing in my ears as if it’s already here.
***
Stefan
The lights are almost all out in the place even though the clock lets me know if I were to step outside it would be broad daylight. I don’t know what day it is, and I don’t exactly care to know.
I take another drag from my cigar and hate that I don’t even get the satisfaction I am looking for from it.
I sit up and try a gulp of tequila instead, opting to take it straight out of the bottle. I cringed the first few times, but now it is just an acquired taste, making me numb. I don’t know if it’s because of the alcohol itself or just because I am getting used to the pungent flavor that would punch me in the mouth otherwise. It doesn’t really fucking matter anymore. Nothing does.
I hate my father, and I am happy to tell anyone who will listen. I have purged my men, not trusting anyone but Silva after the information leak that led to the demise of my marriage. The only thing that keeps me alive are the updates that I get from Silva bringing me news from the states about Presley and her family and the fact that she hasn’t filed for a divorce yet. Not that it means much since she won’t even communicate with me through the company. She has her brother and her best friend handling it all, feeding right back into the hand of her shitty family.
Not that I expected her to take well to the news that I had her kidnapped and put in a cage, especially since she got raped on the boat, but I didn’t expect her to walk away for good.
I blame myself, but I also blame my father. And I blame Lajos, who is still haunting from the grave. I don’t think it will be as simple as her leaving to get the person after us to leave us alone.
I have been dealing with it poorly, leaving the house only to gamble and drink expensive drinks instead of the monotony of drinking and smoking at home.
Suddenly, one of the blinds comes open violently and makes me say every cuss word known to man as I cover my eyes like a vampire.
“You need to wake up out of this stupor.” It’s Silva, and he throws something into my lap. It’s a magazine, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light so I can see what it is.
Oil Queen Pregnant with Gay Man’s Child?
That’s what I read splashed across the page, and I immediately turn to the page that it says pertains to the story and see the pictures; her buying the test with Paulo and the test being positive that someone picked up in the bathroom trash of an office building. I am furious. How could she get pregnant after only a month away from me, and while still legally married to me no less.
But then the logical side of me sets in and tries to tell me something through the fog of the smoke and alcohol. “The baby is mine. I have to get her back, Silva.”
“You’re damn right you do, but how? Other than cutting out this shit.” He waves his hand at the alcohol and cigar. I put the cigar out and pass him the bottle.
“Go pour this shit out and prepare to leak the story of the century because Presley is about to think her husband is dead.”
“Dead? What the fuck is in this tequila, Stefan?” he asks me as he takes it from my hand and flips on the kitchen light to the sounds of my groans It still hurts. I am nowhere near sober, though those words certainly keep trying to get me there – that Presley is pregnant.
“I am going to die peacefully in my sleep, according to the news story you’re going to have printed for me, anyway. And make sure that Paulo guy sees it somehow and takes it back to her.”
“I don’t follow how this is going to get her back,” Silva says, coming up to me and checking me for a fever. I wave his hand away in annoyance, batting at it like a bug. “Seriously, what good is it going to do? She will think she’s free.”
I shake my head and laugh. “Even Presley knows better than to believe that I would die peacefully in my sleep. Way too many enemies for that. She will want to come to the funeral, first of all, but she will also want to come and investigate to find out who killed me. She’s smart. She’ll think of the threats we were getting and assume whoever it has knocked me off.”
“You are insane.”
“Yes, but I am also your boss. See that it’s done.”
Chapter 22
Presley
My husband is dead.
I have known for a few days now, but this is the first day I feel like I believe it. And I am angry. I am angry because looking over the news again and again I still do not get any clarity from it. It claims that he died peacefully in his sleep. They speculate it has to do with drugs or alcohol, but not only can that damn man hold his alcohol, but no way in the seven circles of hell is he going to ever go quietly into the night like that.
I stare at the house I used to live in with ire. I never wanted to be back here. The longer I was gone the more I knew it was never home, not really. But I don’t come to make amends or move back in, anyway. I have come to accuse my father of being the one who took Dalca down, possibly in a bid to get the company back. Because all his assets; every company and property every penny, it will all be mine. And my father has betrayed us so well, I don’t put it past him to put a hit out on Stefan, not in the least.
I march up to the door, and I don’t knock. I have a key that I slipped from Nathan’s things at our last company meeting; the day I found out my husband was dead. Even if I was in a fog about it all, I guess I knew it would lead to this.
Inside, I find my mother in the kitchen and my father nowhere in sight. “Is he in his office?” I ask her, and she just stares at me a moment before nodding fervently. I am sure she can see I am upset but
likely doesn’t know whether this is a good or bad kind.
I knock on the office door and get several grunts and murmurs, my father wanting me to go away. He may not even know it’s me outside the door, and I cringe, unsure of how my mother can stand to be in the same house with him now after all he has done.
I jiggle the handle and find it unlocked, pushing the door open. He sits up, startled, closing browser windows on his laptop that I would rather not know what they were for. They could have contained any number of seedy things, but it doesn’t matter.
“Presley, I wondered when I would be seeing you. I assume you’re here to talk about the death of Mr. Dalca.” He sets down his reading glasses, and I can see how he has visibly aged over the last couple of months. The stress is getting to him.
I laugh at his words, not recognizing the sound of my own insane cackle in my ears. “Mr. Dalca? You mean my husband, right? The one that you killed. How did you do it? Did you hire a hit man or something?” I ask curiously as if it is nothing but a casual conversation.
“Are you out of your mind, Presley? Not only is what you’re accusing me of illegal, but it is murder. Why would you think I had anything to do with it? They said he died in his sleep, right?”
“Men like him don’t die in his sleep, Dad, and you have the most to gain from him no longer being here. I have news for you, no matter what I get out of this, you’re not getting a penny. In fact, Nathan is going to be fired too. I don’t want any of you a part of the company anymore, or my life!”
I stand up, but my father comes after me, his hand on me. I yank it away, feeling slimy where he has touched me knowing all the things he has done with those hands, like exchange dirty money and cheat on my mother. She may be just as fake as him, but she has loved him for years. She didn’t deserve that. “Presley, I don’t know what this is about, but let us help you. Just move back in, and we will sort it all out. You’re free now.”
I roll my eyes, and I realize I am not going to get anything out of him. I look him up and down and accept that he is a coward. He has hidden something about himself, a key feature of his very being, his entire life because he is too scared of what others think. I believe him now. He isn’t brave enough to go up against Stefan. But that means that the person who hired Heather is out there, causing trouble again. And I am carrying a child now. I can’t put this baby at risk by not knowing who is after us and taking them out. I am going to have to do this Stefan’s way, and hopefully no one tries to get in my way, or they may end up just as dead as he is.
I get in my car and order my phone to dial Mariana Petran. I am not friends with her by any means, but important numbers like that were put in my phone by Stefan the day he got it for me, just in case I ever needed to get a hold of other Clan leaders. From what I knew of her, she would be taking this seriously, and she would help me get the info I need assuming she doesn’t have it already.
Of course, she doesn’t answer the line herself, but as soon as I say who I am and that it’s a Clans emergency, I am put right through to her.
“Mrs. Dalca?” she asks into the receiver, and she sounds genuinely surprised to hear from me. As I am driving back to my place, I get a strange feeling in my stomach – either my intuition or my morning sickness kicking in. I am not sure which just yet. “I am being told there is an emergency. How can we help you?”
“So, I left Stefan and went back to the states about a month ago. It’s a long story, but now the news has come out, and I don’t believe it. Something is off here, and I need to investigate. I went to my father, but he knows nothing. The next logical step was to come to you and see if you knew anything.”
“Slow down, what news?” she asks, and I am stunned, getting a loud honk as I blow right past a stop sign without so much as a tap on my breaks.
“Now I am even more concerned if you haven’t heard – Stefan is dead. The papers say he died peacefully in his sleep, but I don’t buy that for a moment,” I explain, pulling into my apartment and parking in my designated spot.
There is a pause on the other end, and then she says, “Stefan is dead? Why has no one told us this?” She pauses again, but I hear her talking with someone else in the background in another language – Rumanian? It is probably either her husband, Ion, or some of her henchmen. Either way, I hope they will know what to do. “Where are you now?” she finally asks.
“I am still in Texas, but I am going to see if I can get a flight out tonight.”
“Wait until morning, and let me send some of the clan members’ men with you. I don’t know anything, and that is all I need to know in order to say this is dangerous. If Stefan is dead, you are the heir to the Dalca throne, and we can’t lose you.”
My hand goes to my abdomen, and I wonder if I should tell her. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone for a while, but this changes things. They need to know who they are protecting. “It’s more than just me who needs protecting,” I blurt out before I can convince myself otherwise.
“Oh? Who else needs to be protected?”
“Stefan’s child. I just found out a few days ago I am pregnant.”
“Fuck, okay, well, I am going to get men out to you now then. Anyone with a private jet I will send. Stay in your house until then and do not leave. Keep everything locked, and keep a gun with you at all times, do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
I practically run into my house, and I am shaking as I begin to lock everything down and then push chairs and desks in front of entrances before going into my bedroom and locking myself inside, breathing deeply and trying to meditate. I look down at my phone and see that it is not even seven yet. It is going to be a long night with no sleep because I am scared to death now that someone is coming after me to finish off the rest of the clan, including my unborn child.
***
We pull up to the mansion in an armored vehicle. I am not allowed to let myself out. I must be guarded at all times. For now, I am okay with that, but I hope I am going to have the freedom to investigate the way I need to in order to get to the bottom of this.
I pull out my key and take a deep breath as the men that were sent with me surround me, encircling me until we reach the door so I can get to it. I don’t know what to expect when I walk in; some kind of bloody scene, another person trying to take over the estate. I just have no idea.
They all have their guns at the ready when I open the door and surround me once again, several going in ahead of me. I stand in the entryway with three of the men as one of the ones who went into the house calls out. “Miss, you are going to want to see this.”
I follow the voice slowly into the master bedroom, my heart racing at the thought of what I might find. Could his body still be in there and rotting, or is there blood splatter everywhere? Every horrible scenario goes through me as I take one step at a time, feeling like I am walking miles to get to that bedroom we once shared.
But what I do find has me screaming at the top of my lungs because it is none of the things I was thinking of.
Because right on that bed on top of silk sheets sits a grinning and relaxed version of my very alive husband.
I turn to the men and scream at them. “I want to leave now! Just get me back to the airport and get me home!” I say it over and over, but no one heeds me. I don’t know if this is all part of the prank that has been played on me, or if it has to do with the fact that they are too in shock to know which way is up. They aren’t exactly forthcoming with their facial expressions since they are bodyguards for hardened criminals, so I can’t really say for sure.
“What have you done?” I ask Stefan who now stands up and comes over to me.
“Aren’t you glad that I am alive?” he asks. “I would think you wouldn’t want to be a widow at your age. Or were you just after the money?” I slap him hard, and no one moves in his defense. Good.
“You are crazy. I never should have agreed to be in this with you. Have you ever told the truth about anything?” I ask him.
“Yes, I have told you the truth about everything, even if sometimes I omitted things for your safety or for my own damn selfishness. And I am about to spill more of the truth right now.” Stefan reaches out and puts some of my hair in his hands, running his fingers through it.
“No, you don’t get to tell me anything anymore –“
“I love you,” he interrupts me. I gape at him, and now I know he has lost his mind. Even if he means it, this is just about the worst time for him to do such a thing.
I don’t even get a chance to respond, though, as his phone rings. I debate letting him take the call and then leaving while he is distracted, but then he says the name Enzo, and I know I need to stay. Enzo is the man he hired to find out who was after us. This would at least make me feel safer to know the man had been found and dealt with.
He hangs up and looks at me, dismissing some of the men and giving them orders in Romanian – a language I probably should have attempted to learn considering I was his wife. But maybe it just goes to show it was never meant to be.
But then I think about the child I am carrying and feel a tug towards him, leaving me confused.
“Enzo knows who is after us – a man named Marius Lungu. He is the estranged younger brother of one of the Clan leaders. Evidentially, he is part of a larger trafficking ring that Lajos was helping him run. Lajos was nothing more than a lower class middle man in all of it, but one of his best. I am guessing that’s what has him pissed off about what I did. I am also sure it only adds to it that I am also a Clan leader, so it would serve him well to get rid of me and have a good reason. He might even try to go after his brother next.”
I shake my head, and it’s a lot to take in right now. I don’t understand the motives of these criminal families; the depths of their evil baffle me. But I do know one thing – that this puts me in danger again if he is not found.
“Did Enzo say where this man is?”
Stefan nods. “He is here in Brazil, probably checking up to see if I am really dead. Even if Enzo can get here this evening to finish the job, something could easily happen to you on the way home. I am afraid if you want to leave, I must insist you wait until we have word that this man is dead, and the threat gone. I will not have you die on me whether you love me back or not.”
Defiant (The Clans Book 6) Page 13
