Rhapsody (Butcher and Violinist 1)
“Okay.”
“You love her something fierce. You would kill anyone that touched her.” Her grip on my shoulder tightened. “And some man breaks into her home. He stalks her. He has a reputation and none of it is good. What would you do, Jean-Pierre?”
“I would kill him.”
“Exactly.” She left my shoulders and walked in front of me. “However, I can’t kill you.”
“No, you can’t.”
Engines sounded off in the distance. Tires screeched outside. Loud voices rose.
Shotgun hurried over to the window. “Damn it. His men are here.”
Celina kept her view on me. “Go back to France.”
I rose and straightened my jacket. “That’s not an option, Celina, but I’m glad that we had this conversation. It’s helping me understand the situation better.”
Shotgun glanced back to Celina. “There’s about twenty fucking cars out here that just showed up. They’re probably with Frenchie. Wrap this shit up, Celina.”
She didn’t appear moved at all. Her scowl stayed on me. “There are other women in Belladonna.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“I have the best brothel in the city.” She placed her hand into her pocket and pulled out a black card. “I advise you to come to my place of business. Sample everything there. Say your name and you’ll be treated like a king.”
“You would do that for me?” I took the card from her.
“I would. You can have any woman or even group of women you want.” She stepped closer to me. “But, understand this, Jean-Pierre. You will not have Eden. There will never be a moment where you can even share the same space that she breathes in.”
I placed her card in my pocket. “You’ve given me a lot to consider.”
She looked me up and down. “You’re a gorgeous young man. With your life, I’m surprised no one has cut your face up yet.”
“They’ve cut me. They just missed my face.”
“Well, I won’t miss your face.” She frowned. “Trust me on that. I’ll start with your left eye and then slice your right. I’ll save the nose for last because it’s so pointy and it’ll serve as a sort of direction for the rest of the cuts.”
Not many women made me blink.
This one did.
I smiled. “I think I’m going to enjoy being part of your family.”
She scoffed. “Your ego is something else.”
The cop grabbed our attention. “Celina let’s go. They’re outside the car, not shooting, but—”
“We’re going.” She rolled her eyes and took her coat from him. “Jeremiah, you’re holding a shotgun. Try not to piss yourselves while looking at the big, bad gangsters.”
“You just understand that we’re good now,” Shotgun mumbled as he opened the door. “I don’t owe you anymore favors.”
“I’ll decide that.” She walked through.
I followed them out, intrigued by Eden’s aunt.
How do I fight her? How do I take down an enemy that I’m supposed to be impressing?
Giorgio, Rafael, and Louis stood on the cabin’s porch and watched Celina walk away.
Rafael came to me. “Who’s that?”
“Our little enemy,” I said.
Louis shook his head. “I know her. That’s Eden’s aunt.”
“Exactly.” I headed to my limo. “Her aunt is a little protective.”
“A little is a fucking understatement.” Rafael walked over with me. “And Eden doesn’t know?”
“I doubt it.”
“This makes things difficult,” Rafael said.
“I know. We can’t kill her aunt, and it doesn’t look like she’s going to warm to me.”
Rafael snorted. “She wasn’t a fan of you breaking into her niece’s apartment and watching her sleep?”
“No, and she had cameras in Eden’s place.” I headed to the limo as it pulled up.
Rafael walked on my side. “So, now what?”
I took the card out of my pocket and gave it to him. “We go to the Candy Shop.”
“Hmmm. A brothel?”
“The aunt’s brothel.”
“I really love this mission.” Rafael sniffed the card. “It gets better and better.”
Chapter 22
The Candy Shop
Three Years Ago
Jean-Pierre
We’d been in The Candy Shop for an hour.
Not much had happened.
Security took their time, checking us for weapons. Celina arrived at the door as an uncomfortable-welcoming host. She followed us the rest of the time, staying several feet back.
Currently, we sat in the Sugar Lounge.
This space expanded seventy feet by seventy in a large square. High ceilings rose no more than twenty-five feet or so. Although well-kept, the building had to be more than a hundred years old and had been used for everything, one time or another.
Louis had gathered a report on the property. I didn’t know what information I would need to battle Celina, but all information mattered.
A hundred years ago, the Candy Shop’s building had started out as a factory. The second level windows showed that history. They were large and numerous enough to illuminate an industrial operation back when Belladonna was only five stories tall. Later, an Italian family bought the property and turned it into a big fashion department store. It was the first of its kind.
For a long time the building had been an opera house. That was where Candy Shop exuded its excellence. There’d been whole operas played beginning to end through loudspeakers placed high on the walls.