I sank back down into my seat.
“That went well,” Kaspar said cheerfully. “Now, where’s your pretty younger sister?”
“Busy. You will honor our agreement and help my brother with his problem, yes?”
“I swear on my life.” Kaspar looked giddy with excitement. He was a beautiful man, handsome and unpredictable.
I felt my world sinking into mud.
“Then I will make sure you’re paid per our agreement.”
“Lovely doing business with you. If this little coup is any indication, I suspect the family Servant is on the rise.”
Then Kaspar’s face disappeared and the screen went black.
I sat, unmoving.
Years of service to Charleigh. And now, what? Her daughter?
Her horrible daughter?
“Chika, do you believe in love?”
I frowned. Tilted my head. Stalled.
“Yes, I do.” I decided to be honest.
“Why?”
“Because I have seen it in others.” My parents, what they did for me. The long hours they worked. The sacrifices. That was love.
Erin stood up. “Love is a luxury. If my family wants to afford love, we’ll have to do some very bad things. Will you help?”
I had never experienced love. Lust, yes, of course. I was human after all.
But never love.
Only loyalty, which was a kind of love, or as close as I would get.
“Yes, miss. I will do what is asked of me.”
“Good.” Erin smiled. I hated that smile. She looked back at her phone. “Go make sure Mother’s okay.”
I stood and left. I had a new employer now, it seemed.
I would not forget that. I had learned things, living with these people.
Hard things.
How to survive.
12
Darren
Our caravan parked outside of an old hotel at the edge of the downtown district. It was built around the turn of the century when Chicago shifted from a two-bit trading port to a substantial urban center, driven by access to the Great Lakes and increased trade with the western frontiers.
“Secure the area,” I said to Anthony as I marched up the stairs with Winter. “Make sure there aren’t more surprises.”
My brother nodded. His arm was bandaged, but he’d manage.
Winter lingered close. Her taste was stuck in my throat and permeated every inch of my body.
That kiss was like ripping my chest open. It came over me like a storm rolling over the horizon. I couldn’t stop myself as soon as she looked at me with those wide eyes, right on the verge of panic, looking so luscious and vulnerable, but still so strong.
Most people, after surviving a shootout like that, would be incapacitated. That sort of thing scarred a person for life.
She’d seen things. Blood, bodies, ripped limbs, torn hands. Fingers left lying in the road like garbage.
And she’d come through the other side still herself.
I wanted to rip her to pieces like a wolf.
Tear her clothes off, feast on her skin. Bite her nipples, tongue her clit, make her scream.
Fuck her, ravage her. Take her then and there.
That call lowered the tension—but it hadn’t broken.
It still swirled between us.
We entered the hotel. The main hall had marble floors. Large green ferns and plants lined the walls. Everything was gold and gleaming, and the bellhops hurried forward to take our bags. My men handed them over.
“I’m here for the arbitrage party,” I told the woman at the front desk.
She stood up straighter. That was a code name we used when interacting with the public.
“Yes, sir. They’re in the main conference room. Do you need an escort?”
“I know where it is.” I walked off with Winter on my heels. She seemed nervous, uncertain. I led her down a series of halls and to a room with a large oak door. Guests and patrons wandered the halls, looking for the pool, for the sauna.
I knocked once. Maeve answered. “You’re late.”
“Roman tried to kill me. Can I come inside?”
Maeve stepped aside.
She was tall. Her striking red hair was swept over one shoulder. She pursed her lips at Winter, but said nothing. The rest of my men stayed outside.
Kaspar sat in a leather easy chair next to Old Bern. Nobody else would show, but they’d all hear of what we decided soon enough.
Maeve glided over toward the men. She an ageless look about her—no doubt from highly skilled surgeons plus the easy life of the incredibly wealthy. I didn’t let that distract me. Maeve was powerful and dangerous, and controlled the Turkish crime family with an iron fist.
“Well, there he is,” Old Bern said and banged his hands on his chair. “I wondered when I’d see you. What’s that you said about being attacked?”
“Roman waylaid my men on the way over.” I walked toward the group. They sat around a low coffee table covered in cigar boxes. Old Bern chewed one, but didn’t smoke.
Kaspar watched without comment.
“Waylaid how?” Maeve asked in a slow drawl.
“Blew up my lead car and ambushed us from a cornfield.” I waved a hand in the air as if it were no big thing. “I suspect he’s still unhappy about my drowning his little bunker.”