Flawed (The Clans Book 12)

by Elizabeth Knox

  The clicking of heels against the marble floor causes me to look to the right and I see a white blonde woman, and an Indian woman coming in this direction as well. They’re also both naked, walking up to Jabulani.

  The white woman has body chains cascading over her curves and crevasses. Her hair and makeup is done to a T, just like the Indian woman’s and I realize these aren’t just any girls. They’re prostitutes.

  “You see, I am in the position to have whatever I want from this world, Mikel. As I told you before, I am a man of power, and a man who will get whatever it is I want. I wanted women of every color in my home and now I have them. Their only job is to empty my balls and keep me satisfied.”

  The blonde woman smirks devilishly and begins to stick her hand behind the South African woman, over his groin area, but he grabs it immediately. “Not now my dear. I am in such a serious discussion. Later.”

  “As you wish,” she nods, turning her attention to the woman in front of him. I watch as she slides her hand between her friend’s legs and causes her to lean her head back, moaning softly as the blonde works her pussy.

  “I didn’t expect this to be your . . . style,” I mutter, looking at the busy décor spread throughout what I can see of the home.

  Jabulani takes in a sharp breath, “Just when I believe you are going to be kind to me, you find some way to throw an insult my way. Why must you act in such a manner, Mikel?” He pushes the women in front of him off to the side, and they don’t even act like they care because they’re still focusing on each other. In a matter of no time Jabulani pulls his hand back and slaps me against my face.

  “This home wasn’t yours at first, was it?” It’s as if being struck one time and things are suddenly a little clearer to me.

  “No, it was not. This home was given to me as a consolation prize for capturing you. It appears my boss isn’t a fan of yours, or your precious Romanian counterparts. Tsk. What a shame.”

  I focus on what Jabulani has just said and think about the enemies we have. There aren’t many, but the few who have been vocal about their dislike of us are even more scarce. It’s like searching for a needle in a haystack.

  I look over the décor of this place, all the gold, the white marble, the continued chestnut wood and gold and then it’s when I see it, a picture of the one, the only, Gabriele DiGiovanni. “You’re working for the Italians?” I thrash in my chair, anger coursing through my veins.

  The Italians are the ones who attempted to kill Mariana years ago, who caused us to kill one of our own after they framed him as a traitor . . . they have caused so much agony, and they will pay for what they’ve done.

  “Yes, Mr. DiGiovanni pays quite handsomely. More money than I have seen in my entire life.” Jabulani boasts, filled with joy.

  Thato cackles and approaches me as well, “He has made us great men, filling our wildest fantasies, and making all our dreams come to light.”

  “Why work for anyone, much less the Italians?” Jabulani and Thato hate outsiders, which is part of the reason we’ve been enemies for a long time.

  “We have a cause, of course. It is quite simple, Mikel, but why are you acting like such a dumb man? We need money, guns, supplies, fuck, we need allies. Who better to gain all of it from then one of the richest men alive? You see, we will take what we can from this old Italian brute, and then I will slice his throat and take everything he has ever held dear to his heart.”

  “Enough with the speech, get on with the torture before we must go tend to other things.” Thato tells his friend.

  Jabulani chuckles lowly, unsheathing the blade he keeps hanging at his hips. The chill of the metal feels odd against my skin, almost like the static energy from the blade causes my facial hair to move toward it.

  “I could slice you up in bitty pieces, but I wasn’t paid to do such a thing. I was told to keep you alive, for a while that is.” Jabulani sneers, looking down at me with disgust in his eyes.

  Thato comes right to my side, wraps a hand around my neck and closes harshly. “There shouldn’t be any reason we can’t have a bit of fun with this ignorant Romanian who has caused us so many troubles.”

  “No, we cannot. We have a deal and I will not have your selfish needs fucking it up.” Jabulani argues with his friend, shoving the man’s clenching hand away from my neck.

  Thato doesn’t seem pleased. He flares his nostrils and glares at Jabulani. “You would pick this man over me, over your own brother? Disgusting.”

  Jabulani rushes toward him, pushes his body into the wall and presses the blade against his throat. “The only reason you are anything is because of me. It is best you do not get confused anymore. I can have other friends, Thato. You are replaceable as the next man.”

  “Enough!” A thick Italian accent comes out from the middle of nowhere. Never did I expect Gabriele DiGiovanni to pay me this personal visit.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Melody

  I can’t get a fucking flight until Friday and I’m about to rip my hair out. Being an entire ocean away means I’m useless as fuck. I’ve been waiting for texts or calls from Davide, but I haven’t gotten anything yet . . . and that’s scaring me more than any monster from my childhood ever could. I’m hoping, praying to God above that Mikel will be okay . . . because I can’t lose him.

  I’m on my way to have lunch with some old friends of mine, hoping that I can somehow fenagle a way to use their private jet. My father was friends with their father, and thus we grew up alongside one another in a way. Even though we were all at various ages, we figured out a way to have friendships, even as kids. Now they’re in their thirties and forties. God, thinking about it makes me realize I was the baby constantly running behind them, begging for attention.

  I stop at the little French bistro we typically stop into and head toward the back, where they have a table reserved. The owners know me because I typically grab lunch a couple times a week when I’m here, and they know my relationship with my friends, so they don’t question me while I walk directly toward the room.

  I place my hand on the door and push it open. Surprisingly enough, they’ve all beat me here. “You know you’re almost an hour late, right prissy-pants?” Christian grumbles out, glaring at me.

  Jordan chuckles lowly as he rises and breaks the distance between us, wrapping his arms around me. “How’ve you been? Long time no see.”

  I release him and take a step back, “I’ve been good, keeping busy. You know, the usual.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard about how busy you’ve been. In Africa, working for a charity.” Logan sits back, cocking a brow. I’m not entirely sure what he knows about the charity, my employer, or the business the Clans do . . . but the Steele brothers have an entire rumor mill about them being involved in nefarious activities.

  “Yes, I have. I’m actually headed back in a few days.” I keep my response short, walk around the table and kiss Logan and Christian on the cheek. The Steeles are essentially my brothers from another mother. My entire life they’ve helped me out, even helping me land my last job. I walk around the table and sit down at the empty seat.

  “Why on Earth were you so late?” Christian doesn’t drop it, wanting to rile me up.

  “We said one, didn’t we?” I say, looking to Jordan and Logan to back me up.

  Jordan shakes his head, “No, we agreed on noon. We figured you screwed something up in your schedule and you’d be here. You’re just lucky we like you.”

  “Oh yeah, so lucky.” I sarcastically retort.

  “What’s going on, Mel’?” Logan asks. He’s always been the one able to tell if something’s the matter. He has those superpowers I suppose. Even as kids, he knew when I was upset.

  “I need a favor. My . . . boyfriend, um, he was taken and I can’t get back to Africa until tomorrow. I was hoping you’d lend me your jet and I could get over there to help out as much as possible.”

  “Lending you the jet. What a small favor you’re asking us.” Jordan snickers,
getting a glare from Logan.

  Logan furrows his brows, seeming a bit curious. “What can you tell me about your boyfriend? He a good man?”

  Oh, what a question. “I don’t think he’s a good man, but he is good to me. I fucked up guys, I fucking fucked up so bad. I left him a month ago, told him I couldn’t accept certain parts of him, or what he does for a living because it didn’t align with my morals . . . and now he’s missing and it’s like . . . it’s like I’m being ripped in half. I’m filled with so much worry that I can’t sleep, don’t want to eat and I just . . . I need to do something and I didn’t have anyone else to turn to.” Tears break through and instead of trying to make them stop, I simply let them flow. I need my friends to see how much this is truly affecting me.

  “Is your boyfriend Romanian? We know the charity you work for, and the people who founded it.” Christian asks.

  I nod, not beating around the bush. “Yes, his name is Mikel.”

  “He’s a rumored Clan leader for their African region. I believe he resides in South Africa.” Jordan whispers to Logan, but loudly enough that I can hear it.

  My eyes go wide at what Jordan’s just said . . . not quite sure what to make of the knowledge he possesses. Maybe those rumors about the Steele brothers being into some criminal activity isn’t a rumor. There could be some truth behind it if they even know what the term Clan really means.

  “You love him, don’t you?” Logan inquires.

  I pause for a moment, but think about the discussion I had with Davide and I’m forced to nod. I do love Mikel, I love every part of him, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Even admitting it is terrifying, but I know that I have no other choice. I’ve been miserable without him and I can’t bear to keep continuing the way I am.

  “Mel’ you know we’ll do whatever we need in order for you to get to South Africa. But more than that, I’m confident I can say for the rest of us that we’ll put our resources together to get your boyfriend out of this unscathed. Before Madigan came into our lives you were the closest thing to a sister that we had, and we love you kid. We’re gonna see this through with you until the end.” Jordan intervenes, making my tears come out even heavier. I’ve never been more grateful for this brood of bastards.

  I walk straight into Jordan’s arms and he holds me close. If only his hug could give me the comfort I need in order to know this will all go smoothly. I need to get to South Africa, and I need to get there as quickly as possible.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Melody

  I’ve been at the private air strip for almost an hour, waiting for the men Jordan, Christian, and Logan ended up promising they’d send with me to help us in locating Mikel. Luckily for me, I assumed they’d offer some sort of help and had my suitcase along with my passport packed.

  With every moment that passes us I’m growing more and more anxious. There’s a long flight ahead of me and I doubt I’ll be able to relax during an ounce of it. I’ve still yet to receive one update from Davide, which only causes me to be even more worried, if that’s even possible. You figure in a situation like this you’d max out at a certain point, but nope. It just keeps going up and up, and up.

  Caught in my own thoughts I don’t realize anyone has boarded the plane until a hand is being waved maybe four inches in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo. Anyone home?” Christian cackles as he asks.

  “Wave your hand in my face like that again and you’ll be surprised where it turns up. I’ll give you a hint though, it won’t be pleasurable for you.”

  Christian’s face contorts into something I can’t exactly read. He looks pissed, but as quickly as his expression shifts, it changes again. “Damn, you must really love this guy if you’re getting so snarky, Mel.” He sits his ass in the seat across from me, and I realize Jordan is across from us behind the pilot’s cabin. He’s sitting on the couch with another man beside him.

  “Who’s that with Jordan?”

  Christian turns his head to look back, “Oh, that’s Reggie. Madigan’s husband. He’s part of the security company that works for us. Remember Lucian?” Lucian. How could I forget a man who walks like he was born made of gold?

  I nod. “Yep.” Hopefully my tone tells Christian how I’m still not fond of his friend.

  “Alright, so Lucian invested a decent bit in Reggie’s security company. They provide not only physical security, but cyber security as well these days. Reggie is ex-special ops, Marines, Army, and all of that. Meanwhile, I don’t even wanna know where Lucian is recruiting his people from. They just bought a suite in downtown Atlanta so they can begin taking prospective clients and interviews from a physical location. Everything was done over the internet for so long.”

  “You seem to know a lot about these people, and how they operate.” I cock a brow, knowing Christian has a card up his sleeve.

  “Lucian might not have been the only one who invested in the company.” He snickers, telling me everything I need to know. Christian Steele, Lucian Bane, and Reggie whatever-his-last-name-is are all partners in this security company. Interesting.

  I see four more bodies come onto the plane and sit in various parts. Two of the guys sit across from us, while the other two pass us and go sit on the opposite end. One of the guys is bi-racial with a sick tattoo on his right arm. He has a slick, clean shaven look with a buzz cut. “He’s one of the newbies, just got outta the Army if I can remember correctly. Though, I can’t remember his name. The guy across from him is Katana. Don’t think it’s his real name, but that’s what he goes by. I think they use code names sometimes.”

  The man he’s speaking of is obviously of Asian descent. He’s ripped, and I mean ripped. He looks like one of those guys who competes in body building contests. “I’m Legend. You must be that sweet thang Lucian was telling us all about.” The guy next to me extends a hand. He has a clean-shaven head, but a thick beard.

  “Lucian said something nice about me?” I cock a brow, knowing this has to be a joke. Lucian and I have never gotten along. I’ll blame it on the fact we were always competing with each other as kids. He was one of Logan’s good friends and he had a habit of trying to make me feel miniscule. I think he was doing that though because his dad would piss off Logan’s dad all the time, so maybe he was worried their friendship wouldn’t last with the downfall of their fathers’.

  Legend nods his head, looking Christian’s way. “Sure he did. You know him, always joking around. I just knew you must’ve been sweet as a peach.”

  “Joking?”

  Christian crosses his arms, “He told them you were an evil piece of shit.”

  “Typical,” I roll my eyes.

  “If it makes you feel better we know Lucian has harsh feelings toward everyone. So, we hardly pay attention to his ass. Reggie’s the one who hired us anyway. I’m Alpha,” The older man across from me extends his hand and I shake. He also has a beard . . . and if I thought Katana was ripped . . . Alpha is the kind of man you want to watch ice cream melt on and then lick it from every chiseled part of his body.

  “Likewise.”

  “Are we gonna get this bird up in the air soon, or what?” Christian hollers out to the entire plane.

  “Bird is a helicopter, idiot.” Legend grumbles. Obviously Christian wasn’t taught proper lingo.

  “You try and relax, sweetheart. We know the situation and we’re gonna help get your man outta this clusterfuck. Alright?” Alpha says, giving me a sweet as can be smile.

  The thing is, none of these men have to be nice to me, but they’re being so kind. It already makes me feel a little bit better about what’s going to happen when we get to South Africa. I only hope Davide is making some sort of progress, and that none of us are too late.

  I need to see Mikel again, and this time I won’t hold back what my heart feels for him. I will shout it from the rooftops if I get the chance.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Mikel

  “I often wonder why I hired you two imbeciles. Fighting with one a
nother, when you’re supposed to be allies? Pfft. You know no true loyalty.” He sneers, berating the men for acting fools.

  Though, what I don’t expect is when the sound of two gunshots being fired fills the room. Both Jabulani and Thato’s bodies drop to the ground. The girls run away screaming, the sounds of their heels clicking against the floor slowly fades away.

  “Did it take you long to figure it out, Mikel?” Gabriele asks, almost genuinely sounding curious of the answer.

  “What does it matter? You’ll soon kill me and it’ll all be over with.”

  Gabriele chuckles, “Soon, but not quite yet. You know, I had a choice between framing you and Jan, and I chose Jan. For a long time I wondered why I would choose to save you over him, and then it struck me one day after I looked at the file my people pulled on you. You and I are so much alike. Two men born in powerful positions whose families were ripped from them, and alas, we survived it all. You see, Mikel, I chose to save you because you reminded me a bit about myself.”

  “I’m not nearly as crazy as you are,” I gripe, glaring at the asinine man.

  He saved me? Is that what he really thinks? He condemned an innocent man to death. A man who I was proud to call a friend. One of the only men who didn’t deserve something like that. Jan was one of the only good ones. So many of us in the Clans are corrupt, but not him, he was the one most likely to do the right thing. Gabriele might think in his twisted mind that he saved me, but he didn’t, instead he corrupted the world even further.

  “You see, that’s where I think you’re wrong. I know what you do, Mikel. I’ve been watching you . . . and I have an offer.”