Her anguish was nothing on what I felt when Tobias arrived at our family compound only hours later. Ophelia and CJ were in a car accident. CJ was wearing a seat belt. Ophelia wasn’t. She didn’t survive her sail through the windshield, and our family has been in tatters ever since.
After signaling for my father’s goon to follow me, I join my father on the curb in front of Club 57, a famous nightclub in the heart of New York, where he’s undertaking a pissing contest with a man undeserving of his wrath.
I should have accepted Isaac’s answer when I attempted to recruit him to my family’s fighting circuit when he was still in college. If I had, perhaps my life would be starkly contradictory to what it is. Karma has a way of biting back, and she’s been gnawing my ass nonstop the past seven years.
“What has it been?” my father asks, acting oblivious to the fury radiating out of Isaac’s gray eyes. “Six years and I don’t even get a greeting from you.” He snarls like Isaac should be bowing at his feet, unaware the millions of dollars he lost after Ophelia’s death wasn’t solely Isaac’s doing. I had a hand in his demise as well.
How do you think I funded CJ’s retirement to a wood cabin in the middle of whoop whoop?
When my father’s attention shifts to the brunette plastered to Isaac’s side, Isaac pulls her behind him in a protective stance. It doubles the arrogance slicking my father’s skin with sweat, whereas it triples my inquisitiveness. Isaac cared for Ophelia, he may have even loved her, but I never saw him act as possessive with her as he is with this unnamed brunette.
Before I can work through half my curiosity, several voices bark down my earpiece in one go. They’re so loud, I almost want to rip the device out of my ear. The only reason I don’t is because one voice is instantly recognizable. It too angelic to be wrangling two angry mobsters.
“She’s not FBI, Smith. She’s part of the Russian Mafia.”
Although Roxie’s voice is crystal clear, it’s obvious she isn’t talking to me. I don’t even think she’s aware I can hear her.
“She was featured in a crime documentary last year.”
I slant my head to the side, inconspicuously cupping my ear with my shoulder to ensure I don’t miss Smith’s reply. “That documentary was filmed three decades ago. It isn’t possible for her to be the same person.”
I’m drawn from their debate when my father’s beady eyes burn a hole in my temple. I raise my head immediately, lost as to what the fuck I missed. My father is glaring at me, Isaac looks smug, and Murph, my father’s goon, looks relieved all the focus is on me.
“Go!”
My father’s roar startles several partygoers mingling in the distance to watch a battle of mafia kingpins. I’m just as shocked, but instead of freezing to watch the charade unfold, my hand itches to slide into the back of my trousers to retrieve my gun.
I’ve been embarrassed by my father many times—chewed up, spat out, and used more times than I can count—but this is the first time he’s disrespected me in front of an enemy.
His disregard will open a floodgate for many more incidences. If you’re not respected by those in your realm, you’re not respected by anyone. I can’t explain it any simpler than that.
He broke the ultimate rule, and it’s taking everything in me not to retaliate with the same amount of inanity. I wouldn’t hold back if it weren’t for Fien. As much as this pains me to admit, her survival rate is hinged on my father’s immortality.
Roxanne’s virginity is the key to unlocking my daughter’s freedom.
My father owns the lock.
I can’t do this without them.
With that in mind, I pivot on my heels and walk away as per my father’s request. My anger is so stubborn, I grip my date’s arm with more force than needed to guide her to my car I requested for the valet to keep close by. Leah doesn’t seem to mind. She’s as worked up as I am after witnessing my father’s conversation with Isaac.
“He won’t let bygones be bygones, will he?” Her guilt is as palpable as mine. If she hadn’t encouraged Ophelia to consider my ruse, her college roommate/best friend would still be here.
After sliding into the back seat of a rented SUV on Leah’s heel, I rip the earpiece out of my ear, yank my cell phone out of my pocket, then dial Smith’s number.
He answers two rings later. “I’m still cross-referencing—”
“What was that?”
The noise of his chair clicking into place sounds down the line before his confused hum. “What was what?”
“The argument between you and Roxanne.”
A brief stretch of silence teems between us.
It agitates me to no end.
“Smith—”
“She must have accidentally hit the mic button.”
Leah’s pretty hazel eyes float from the scenery whizzing by her window to me when I snarl, “Why was she there to begin with? She should have been in her room.” She’s fine with women being traded as long as it’s of their own free will. Only when you hold them captive, as I have Roxanne the past four days, does she have an issue.
I don’t know if it’s anger skating through my veins or worry when Smith replies, “She found my hub when looking for her father.”
“You didn’t think to lock the door?”
His laugh has me itching for a blood bath. “She didn’t exactly sneak up on me, Dimi. I knew she was coming before she entered.”
“Then you should have escorted her back to her room.”
He scoffs like I’m being irrational. It’s barely heard over Leah’s disappointed sigh when I say, “I put a price on her virginity tonight. If she’s wandering around unsupervised, someone might be tempted to claim it without paying for the privilege.”
“Fuckin’ hell, Dimitri.” Smith’s relapse to my full name exposes his annoyance. “You were supposed to use Ian’s information to get your foot into the industry, not dump Roxanne knee-deep in it.”
“I couldn’t get my foot in the door without using Roxanne’s virginity.” When he remains quiet, I stack some reassurance onto my ploy. “She won’t be touched under my watch. I won’t let anyone hurt her.”
“You wanna fucking hope so, D.” This gravelly tone doesn’t belong to Smith. It’s the voice of an undeniably pissed Rocco. “Because if she gets hurt, you’ll have to load your own bullets into the gun you want to kill your father with because I’ll be done.”
It takes everything I have not to smash my phone when Rocco ends our call by doing precisely that to Smith’s cell. The only reason I don’t is because Smith’s face on the screen of my phone is quickly gobbled up by the symbol I use for my father—a reversed pentagram.
Col: Meet me at Chasity’s at midnight. Come alone. It’s time to expand the family franchise.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Roxanne
My eyes lift to the door when the creak of overworked hinges sounds through my ears. Relief engulfs my senses when Dimitri enters my room. I haven’t laid my eyes on him in over twenty-four hours. He didn’t return to our room after he snuck out yesterday afternoon, and none of his staff knew of his whereabouts when they brought in my meals. It was as if he vanished into thin air.