Chapter 2
Two
N ERINE
The rows and columns of the spreadsheet blurred into one large, illegible mess. I squinted, attempting to make sense of it all and concentrate.
I sighed with frustration and did my best to ignore the chaos swirling around me in the office of SinCity Distillery. Its Firewater whiskey had become a cult favorite after a popular Hollywood actor used it as an ingredient in everything he served at one of his parties. The drink's Black label recently went viral after being featured in a blockbuster action movie. This resulted in a surge of new orders, creating a bottleneck for fulfillment at a small production facility.
I did my best to stay focused and input the crucial production data as quickly as possible. However, the chaos of the office kept invading my thoughts, and I found myself having to double-check my work.
Unfortunately, my biggest distraction today was the dream I had awakened from this morning. I still couldn’t shake the lingering fear it stirred up. Images of Theo and Xander haunted me even after I locked up the apartment and came to work. It felt like two figures were sitting on my shoulders, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t flick them off. It was maddening, and if I didn’t figure out a way to cope soon, it was going to start causing serious problems.
I couldn’t afford any problems. My life depended on everything running smoothly without drawing attention to myself. I could easily attract unwanted notice if I made mistakes or talked to the wrong people.
“Hi, Rina,” Sarah, our admin assistant, said as she set a pile of files on my desk. “These just came in.”
Stifling a groan at the sight of the large stack of invoices, I reminded myself to be grateful for this mundane job. It provided the cover I needed to protect my identity, which was the most important thing.
Work was work.
Still, I longed for the privilege of my old life.
If any of my coworkers knew my real name was Nerine Angelos, the missing Godmother of the Night and Queen of the Angelos Mafia, not one of them would have been able to keep that secret.
Luckily, I’d perfected a demeanor, making the truth an outlandish possibility .
It sounded strange to my ears, too, sometimes.
But that was all in the past. I wasn’t the same woman I had been when I left, and I would never be the old Nerine again. It was best that I remained grateful and humble for that fact.
So, instead of rolling my eyes and pushing the work away, I politely smiled at Sarah and thanked her for the work.
Outside my office windows, the Las Vegas Strip stretched for miles. The daytime view contrasted sharply with the glittering neon chaos I observed from the small apartment I lived in during the evenings. I resided at the Ida Hotel and Casino, owned by my employer, Penny Lykaios’s husband, Hagen. From my bedroom, I had a perfect view straight down the Strip, showcasing the dazzling neon lights and bustling streets.
Thank goodness for blackout curtains, though, or I’d never be able to catch a wink of sleep. I laughed, thinking about how different my life was now.
My friend Penny had been a lifesaver for me, not to mention an inspiration.
She was a brilliant chemist and the founder of SinCity Distillery, a successful woman in her own right. She was also married to one of Las Vegas’s most prominent casino and hotel owners. With the indulgence they offered the public, they were the king and queen of the Las Vegas underworld if such a thing existed.
My dear friends, Nyx Drakos and Devani Patel-King, had recommended me to them. Nyx was Penny’s cousin-in-law, and Devani was my mentor, trainer, and knowledge bearer. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to call her. By day, she was the Indian precious gems mogul known as the Queen of Diamonds. In her other life, she was the so-called retired director of Solon North America.
Everything was so different now. It was staggering to think about the changes I’d gone through and the stark difference between my lifestyle as the Angelos Godmother and the woman I presented as now.
I drastically changed not only my demeanor but also my appearance. Gone were my cobalt blue eyes concealed behind dull brown contacts. My once-lush raven hair now sported a hue of honey-golden dark blonde, which I achieved through intensive sessions with a hair specialist.
Sometimes, when I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t recognize myself because I appeared so different.
But all in all, I achieved my goal of hiding in plain sight and being remarkably uninteresting.
So far, so good, at least.
I felt confident enough in my facade to move through the office, hotel, and casino unnoticed. But rarely did I venture much farther into the city. It wasn’t a risk I was willing to take.
Luckily, I never had any reason to go anywhere.
Everything I needed was in my apartment or nearby. Suppose something came up that I didn’t have. In that case, I’d have it delivered. That was the point of all the new apps and services.
Unfortunately, nothing I built in Las Vegas eased the turmoil at the center of my life .
To escape, I tore my family apart and destroyed my world. The agony of being separated from the men I loved for two years was one thing, but I let them believe someone had kidnapped me, along with my mother and sisters.
It was only half-true, a story concocted to conceal the actual plan, which was to protect everyone I loved. To achieve my goal, I had no choice but to stay as far away from them as possible. The pain of being separated from my mother and sisters was another excruciating part of my reality.
My mother and Fiona hid under fake names in Arizona, and the twins, Ariana and Christina, were in school in Washington and Oregon. I felt utterly closed off from all of them.
We were all spread out across the country, and some days, it seemed as if we’d never sit in the same room together again.
I hated it.
My thoughts wandered to Devani as I gazed out the window at the MGM sign flickering in the distance. Below it, throngs of tourists poured down the elevated sidewalks, resembling an endless army of ants.
Without Devani’s help, I never could have pulled this off. She was invaluable, assisting me in obtaining false identification and paperwork with new names for myself and my family. As the retired director of Solon, a spy agency that operated outside any country’s legal framework, Devani had contacts and resources I could only dream of having.
Certainly, her retirement was just for show. She would never truly relinquish control of Solon. I think everyone behind the scenes understood that all too well .
The idea of going through another year like this, away from my family, was infuriating. I had contemplated our next move for months and needed Devani’s insight.
I reached for the encrypted phone I had stashed away in a secret compartment of my briefcase to call her, but it started ringing just as I grabbed it. I looked down at the caller ID and recognized the number immediately.
"Fiona!" I said with apprehension, knowing that whenever my youngest sister called, it was usually for some trouble. She was brilliant but also cunning, and I could never anticipate what she would say next.
"Nerine! You won’t believe what just happened!"
I could practically hear her bouncing with excitement on the other end. "I won’t? Then maybe you should tell me!"
"Okay, well..." she hesitated. "Before I share the details, I need you to promise not to get mad, okay?"
I furrowed my brow. "How can I promise that without knowing what you did?"
"Just promise!" she insisted urgently.
"Fine," I relented. "Is everyone okay, Fiona?"
"Yes, everyone is fine," she reassured me. "It's good news."
"Then why would I get mad?" I asked cautiously.
"Just listen; you'll see," she hushed me. "I wrote a book."
My jaw dropped. "A book? That's incredible! You've always loved writing."
"Well, that's the thing..." she said hesitantly. "You know how I'm always reading?"
"Yeah," I replied .
Fiona was an avid reader who became obsessed with the trending genres on social media, and romance topped her list.
"It's a dark mafia romance novel. It's titled Sin and Deception."
I blinked in disbelief and shook my head, uncertain if I had heard her correctly. "What kind of book?"
She laughed nervously. "They say to write what you know, right?"
"Dark romance? Mafia?" My stomach twisted uncomfortably.
"A dark romance involves power plays and possibly some bondage or something similar," she explained casually. "You know, dominating men who enjoy getting a little rough."
"Uh, okay, whatever," I replied, feeling increasingly uneasy.
Maybe I was overreacting. It was just fiction, right? But as she kept talking, my discomfort grew.
"Going back to writing what you know, what do you know about romance?" I asked pointedly. "Especially the type of relationship you described?"
"I know romance. I've dated. Maybe I don't have much experience, but I borrowed some plot points from others," she admitted sheepishly.
"From where?" I already felt a sinking sensation in my gut.
"From you," she confessed.
My heart skipped a beat. "You did what?"
"I only borrowed a few details," she reassured me. "And I'm telling you now because I don't quite know what happened, but the book went viral. It's become an international sensation."
"Viral?" My heart raced with panic.
"Popular bloggers showcased it on the clock app or something, and sales have skyrocketed," she gushed with excitement. "It hasn't dropped out of the top 100 on popular platforms for the last two weeks, and it has thousands of reviews across all of them."
"You waited two weeks to tell me this?" My stomach churned with anxiety. "Fiona, how could you keep this from me?"
This couldn't be happening.
"Don't worry, Nerine! It's all going to be fine," she reassured me frantically. "I promise nobody will trace this back to us. I swear, I changed the details."
How could she be so naive? My mind raced as my heart pounded in my chest.
Okay, first things first. I needed to read this book ASAP and devise a plan for damage control. Who knows what kind of consequences could come from this sudden fame?
“Send me this book, Fiona. Right now.”
Excitedly, she exclaimed, "I'll email you a copy when we hang up. But, Nerine, you're going to love it!" Her words resonated with pure enthusiasm as if she couldn't wait for me to dive into the book she had written.
"I based it on your life as the Godmother of the Angelos Mafia," she continued. “The heroine was forced into marriage with the new Godfather to save the family, being the eldest daughter. But in the end, she escapes, saving herself and her family. I changed all the names, details, and locations, so don't worry."
My stomach churned with unease at Fiona's description of the book. She had taken events from my life and twisted them into a fictional tale for the world to consume. How could I not worry?
"Send me the book, Fiona," I requested firmly.
But deep down, I knew this book was not just a harmless story. It held secrets and truths that could endanger my family and me. Yet, Fiona remained oblivious to it all.
"I thought you'd be happier," she pouted. "It's a big deal to make it to the top of the charts like that.
"I'm proud of your success and artistry," I sighed wearily. "But, Fiona, I have to ensure you aren't putting any of us in danger with this book."
Listening to her protests and reassurances, my heart ached for my dear sister. She had never witnessed the horrors I endured at the hands of Andraius after our forced marriage. Mama had made sure to keep her sheltered from it all.
But now, with this book published and gaining popularity, all our efforts to protect Fiona seemed pointless.
"We're not in danger!" she insisted once more. "I wouldn't do that to us."
I couldn't stay mad at her for long. She was innocent in all of this, unaware of the consequences her actions might bring.
"I know, sweetheart. You wouldn't intentionally put us in harm's way," I assured her. "Send me the book. I'm looking forward to reading it. "
"Thanks, sis," she said, a hint of relief in her voice. "I love you. Please don't be mad at me."
"Let me read the book, then I'll decide how mad to be," I replied sternly. "And, Fiona, if I tell you to unpublish this thing, you need to listen to me, okay?"
"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "But millions of readers already bought it. You can’t put that cat back in the bag."
"I'll call you back later, okay?" I managed to say before hanging up.
As I waited for Fiona's email, my mind raced with thoughts and fears. All the sacrifices and pain we had endured over the past two years—were they all for nothing?
Oh, Fiona, what have you done?