Chapter 4
Four
Belle
A n hour later I slide out of a cab at Club Genesis and immediately feel the shift of energy. And I haven’t even entered the place yet. Here it’s death, power, and money. The Gilded Key Society is something different altogether. Power for sure. Some of the most powerful people are members who are also known as key masters or key bearers, I’ve learned. The decadent aura and welcoming energy wrap around me like a warm, sinful embrace.
I grab my phone and pull up my cousin’s chat. Sapphire Constantine is the only friend I have in this crazy world. Knowing she was still trying to get her bearings with her new job, I didn’t want to burden her with my crazy idea until I knew it would fly. I hated canceling our lunch plans, but I don’t hate the results. Tonight’s dinner date holds a lot of promise.
My stomach growls reminding me dinner is still hours away.
Besides, she has her own love worries. I mean, being head-over-heels for the enemy is one fat problem I wouldn’t want. The Southern Alliance has been on my brother’s shit list for years. Well, my father’s. My brother only inherited the list from him when he got busted by his girlfriend who turned out to be an undercover cop.
It’s a rollercoaster of a story, but I will say that I am so fucking happy I am not my brother. Being forced into a role you don’t want is not how I see life going for me.
I pause outside the large revolving glass doors of Club Genesis and wave my newspaper around me in case the heavy scent of sex clings to my dress. I wonder if I should run up and shower before seeing my brother.
An aging doorman steps out, ending my dilemma. “Young lady, this is not a building open to the public. I would kindly ask you to move along.”
I raise my gaze to find Mr. Valister’s aging one. White and black hair tops his head and peeks out a little at the edge of his black cap.
“Mr. Valister, you mean to say you don’t recognize your favorite Constantine?” I say teasingly.
The man who gave me a grape-flavored lollipop every day of my childhood looks surprised and then embarrassed. He’s worked at almost every hotel my family owns. When Harlon and his partners established this place, Harlon refused to hire anyone else. He only wanted people he trusted watching the gates to his kingdom.
“Ma’am, I apologize,” he starts and I pat his hand when he takes mine between his.
“Don’t. It’s the wig, isn’t it,” I offer playfully and walk into the cool downstairs lobby with yards of red carpet, white marble, and crystal chandeliers spread out before me.
Club members come and go at all hours, but the majority don’t show up until sundown. It’s part of the whole underworld mystique, I guess. Crime by night seems to be their thing. Since it’s barely three in the afternoon I’m not surprised to find the lobby’s white leather settees empty. A discrete bar in the back glitters with tens of top-shelf liquor and I make my way there only to find the bar unattended.
Huh. Damn. I was hoping for an espresso martini before confronting my brother. Actually…I look around. Why isn’t he descending on me with half the security force?
I step into the elevator and hit the big number three and stand back as the metal box swooshes up.
Club Genesis is five levels of crime. There’s the basement. You never want to hear Harlon say, “Taken ’em to the basement.” He does a better impersonation of a dark underlord than I do, but when he says those five words, I’ve seen men take their own lives rather than see the inside of Harlon’s basement. Nothing funny about that. As I said, Harlon and his partners have worked hard on building up their reputation and they are good at what they do.
The first floor you just saw. It’s nothing more than a gathering place to see and be seen. The kitchen is down there too, but I rarely go there.
Now the third floor…this is the death-dealing floor. Sapphire and the men call it the dark floor. Actually, I think everyone but me does.
It’s where the members of Club Genesis come to take out a hit, square away differences and work out the finer details of contracts between powerful families. It’s a weapons-free zone that has not seen a drop of blood spilled. That leans back on how good Harlon and his men are at their jobs. It’s where you will find the runners fulfilling contracts and Sapphire dealing with their asshole attitudes.
A big no thanks. Killers with attitudes are not my thing. The top two remaining floors are for guests needing sanctuary. Sometimes I grab a room if I’m bored with the suite in Harlon’s mansion outside the city. He says it’s mine too, but again. I accept more than the pension I’m allotted as the mafia princess, and I might as well sign up for taking the throne.
Another big no thanks.
The elevator slows to a stop on the third floor, and I cross the empty reception area and head straight for the private elevator to the right of the large desk.
Leather creaking has my hair standing on end, but I keep moving. To my left and near the receptionist is the lounge—a collection of sofas and low knee-level tables where Genesis’ runners come looking for a contract to fulfill. Or collect payment on one. I don’t stop to ask who’s doing what. Runners give me the creeps sitting there flipping knives or polishing guns waiting for their next kill.
I can feel their eyes on me as I step off one elevator and head to another. I punch the button for the top level and count to five as the doors slowly lock. I get that my brother needs to control access above this level, but I hate that getting to Harlon’s office requires a stop on this floor unless. Well, unless I want to take the hidden passages tucked away behind the bulletproof walls. Ugh, but the spider webs make dealing with these creeps seem the lesser of two evils.
I don’t breathe again until I walk off the elevator and see my distraught security detail looking like death rolled over them.
“Boys, good to see you again.” I smile but that doesn’t go over too well. All I get are grunts and mumbles as I pass them and head into my brother’s office. The door is halfway open which is as good as an invitation. I swing the large slab of dark wide and plop down in the nearest chair and place my Birkin in the chair next to me.
“My feet are killing me.”
Polaris, my brother’s relatively new executive assistant, is practically sitting in his lap with how close she stands. What? Didn’t think underlords have secretaries, did you? They probably don’t, but this one has a club to run and he sucks at spreadsheets.
“Belle,” my brother says dryly. “Where the fuck have you been?” His eyes immediately go to the wig and the barely-there dress. The office is a large open space in browns, leathers, and a few gold ornaments to add a flare of color and wealth.
The familiar scent of whiskey lingers in the air telling me I’ve driven my brother to drink before his usual time.
Not a good sign.
Polaris gathers her papers and…oh. Did I just see her brush her fingers over Harlon’s? I file that away and pretend to be looking at my nails and only raise my eyes when she heads my way. The faint click of her heels on the black marble is delicate yet deafening in the otherwise silent office.
Polaris is a broken soul I instantly bonded with the second she came to live at Club Genesis. She was kidnapped, tortured, and then nearly sold off into the underground sex slave trade. Only her sister, a mean-ass Russian biker gang, and the men of Genesis saved her from a far worse fate than working for my brother.
But Harlon is a whole other problem. I know he loves me, but he’s letting his past and what happened to Polaris tighten his grip around me. You see, my wanting to share something with three men isn’t new. My brother used to share a wife with his business partners and best friends.
And then she was murdered. But time doesn’t seem to heal all wounds. It’s been two years since their shared wife was kidnapped and killed. Long enough for my brother and his friends to want to find happiness again. Or so I thought. Sapphire and I hold a glimmer of hope that Polaris can fill the void I see in Harlon, Santi, and Cassius every single day. But sometimes I think all three are hellbent on being miserable and making everyone around them feel the same damn way.
Polaris goes to pass me with her loot of paperwork, but I stop her with a gentle touch. She does this thing with her shoulders when something bothers her, sort of tucks into herself. Those fuckers wanting to traffic her must have really hurt her.
“You ok, babe?” I pitch my voice low and make sure Harlon can’t hear me.
“Of course. I was just wrapping up for the day anyway. You’ve really pissed your brother off. I should be asking if you are okay.” Aware of it or not, the other woman’s shoulders relax.
“It’s not like he’ll send me to the basement,” I tease. “Meet up later?”
“I’ll bring the drinks if you bring the gossip.” Her attention moves to my wig and then the dress and fuck-me-heels. “I can’t wait to hear the story behind all this.”
Polaris and Sapphire are the two people I trust, hands down. Do I want to keep them on the outside of all this? I nod. “Deal.”
My security detail walks in just as Polaris exits.
I sigh with frustration resigned to the fact I brought this on myself. “Boys.”
“Ms. Constantine,” the leader says but only because my brother is in the room.
“Belle, your men tell me they lost you in the back of a boutique.”
I turn to face my brother. “They are not my men, and I was merely testing out the abilities of the new guards you latched onto my ass.”
Harlon comes to stand at the end of his desk. At his height, he towers over me but it’s the men at my back whose knees I hear knocking.
“And how did they do timewise?”
I purse my lips and twirl the ends of my wig. “I lost them within thirty minutes.”
Harlon nails a stone-cold look over my shoulder. “You’re dismissed,” he says calmly, and I even have to shiver with goosebumps. “We will be talking later. Go to the lower level and wait for me.”
Oh shit. Basement time. I clench my lips teetering on the ledge. Do I stand up for them or let this ride?
Shit! Damn it. Harlon.
“Yes, Sir,” they say and turn, closing the door behind them.
Alone, I whirl on my brother, finger raised and my tongue like a whip. “You don’t need to duct tape bodyguards on my heels everywhere I go. I’m tired of your games. You’re not my father, Harlon. What? Are you going to whack every guard I ditch? I don’t think you have that many graves on hand.”
“Finding where to put bodies is never the issue,” he deadpans, and I swear with my hand on the Bible he’s actually telling God’s truth.
“Harlon.” It’s all I can do not to let my mouth gape open.
“What? Ever since Cassandra was kidnapped and murdered, I should lock you up and not let you out. I can’t lose you too. I refuse to lose you.”
His reasoning steals the air from my sails, and I fall back in one of the leather chairs pushed up close to his desk.
Defeat weighs on my shoulders. “Harlon, I need room to breathe. You have to let me breathe or I’m going to suffocate. Cassandra is not here, true. And I hurt for you. I lost a sister the day she was killed. But you’re going to lose me if you keep throwing up walls everywhere I turn.”
Familiar dark eyes level with mine. Worry and the weight of his empire have left fracture lines etched into his handsome face that were not there five years ago.
He dashes a hand in the air like he can erase what I just said. “I wish it were that simple. You are my responsibility. Something happens to my favorite sister, and I would burn this fucking city to the ground. You want the deaths of millions on your hands?”
He draws me to my feet and tucks me beneath his chin. His arms are comforting but at the same time, I want to rage at him for being the big, protective brother. It’s tiring.
Instead, I say what I always say when we get to this part of our years-old argument. “I’m your only sister.”
“Exactly. I don’t think I have a tall enough tower to keep you out of harm’s way.”
The off-hand comment has me pulling back and staring up at him.
“You try to put me behind a locked door and I will personally cut your nuts off for your enemies.”
My brother’s partners walk in. Santi is first with Cassius close behind. Both have finely tailored suits the color of midnight and oddly enough match Harlon’s in style and shade. Only Harlon wears a white tie whereas Santi’s and Cassius’ are black.
“ Vamonos! Let us hold him down for you.”
“Sounds like a perfect way to kick the weekend off.” Cassius pulls out a knife from somewhere and starts twirling the blade between his fingers. He grins and there, just below the surface, I can see the thirst for blood he keeps hidden from almost everyone.
I turn back to Harlon. “I’m not an actual princess. You know that, right? You can’t lock me away and demand I behave like a good girl. I have wants and dreams.”
The deeply etched ditches across his forehead multiply.
“Speaking of dreams, if you would get involved with the family business a bit more you might find some direction for your life, and I wouldn’t have to worry so fucking much. Every time you step outside this building, I age a year for every hour you’re gone.”
Santi takes one seat and Cassius moves my bag aside and drops his substantial weight into the other. “He’s a fucking miserable dickhead when he’s worried, babe. You need to lay off the gas pedal some so he can breathe. Fuck so we can all take in some air.
Cassius nor Santi are my blood brothers, but they might as well be with how protective they are over me. I love them, but like with Harlon, I want to murder all three of them at times.
“Newsflash.” I snap my fingers to make sure they pay attention to this next part. “My life isn’t about you, you, or you. Nor all your cooked-up worries. It’s about me. And only me. You take care of the business because you want to. Me? I’m fine without the baggage our father has saddled our name with.”
Harlon slaps a hand down on the desk. “We’ve had this talk a million times. Enough!”
I raise my voice to match his. “I guess we’ll have to do it another million times before you get it through your head. My birth certificate might say Constantine, but I refuse to let it hold me back in the dark underworld of Chicago you so desperately cling to. Ever since Cassandra died, it’s like you did too. Don’t drag me down with you.”
Tears sting my eyes and my heart sinks at the hurt clawing across Harlon’s tight expression. I turn to Santi and Cassius. Their eyes are downcast and the stiff, white line of their lips tells me I went too far.
“I’m sorry for that. Fuck! It was unfair. Please hear me. All of you. I have direction. I want to be an artist. I want to live in the light and let color into my life. Not cling to the shadows and let my life be leached of color.”
Harlon’s eyes narrow into fine slits. “Artists starve.”
“Look at me like that all you want, but not this artist. By the time I am your age, brother, I will have my paintings in homes from the elite of Hollywood to the presidents of countries and everyone in between. Thanks for believing in me.”
I grab my bag.
“Let me help you get your artwork into shows. All I have to do is make a few calls.”
Halfway to the door I stop and pivot in Santi’s direction. His Spanish accent drips over his words. It’s one of the things I love to hear most when I have a particularly bad day. He’s an amazing singer and right now I can tell he genuinely wants to help.
“Thanks, but no. I will do this on my own. I can’t have my big brothers opening doors for me that I didn’t earn. I don’t work like that.” I walk around the desk and kiss my brother on the cheek.
His shoulders are pinned back, and his hands are shoved into his pockets. Typical big brother when he doesn’t get his way.
“Now call off your dogs. I would hate for any more of your men to get in trouble because they can’t keep up with me.”
He’s running his hand through my fake hair. “Tell me, where did you go when you ditched your security detail?”
Nice try. All three stare at me. Alone they are powerful. Together, they are unstoppable. But they have nothing on a determined woman trying to forge her path.
I shove steel beams into my resolve and point to my wig. “I went to a costume party. Hey, by the way, have you seen Sapphire?”
“She’s on the dark floor,” Cassius answers me when all Harlon does is stare at me unmoving.
I move toward the office door.
“Maybe you could be an undertaker. Sapphire seems to have taken a good liking to it.”
“Not happening, Harlon.” My brother is oblivious to how much Sapphire hates her new job.
“I have a job already so stop trying to saddle me with what I don’t want.” And an even better one if tonight goes off well.
“Belle,” he draws out when I don’t fall in line like a good soldier.
If I want to make it out of here without him tossing me in my suite and locking the door, I better heed the warning in his tone. With my hand on the handle, my gaze swings to his.
“Don’t go against my word. Your new detail will be waiting for you downstairs. I advise you not to try and shake them off again.”
His eyes have turned darker than usual. Santi and Cassius flank him looking just as grim. My God, how does Polaris stand working with them all day?
Steel resolve, Belle.
But all the fortified determination in the world doesn’t hold back the cold warning from chasing me all the way to the dark floor.