Chapter Twenty-One
THE SEVEN
LYRIC ~ WESTERN CAPE SOUTH AFRICA
I hear the men arguing again.
“Ummy?” Looking down at the sorrowful eyes of my son. I don’t know what to say. His worried voice is the same litany asking for his father since the day we arrived. His tantrums have been legend from the moment he realized that his daddy wasn’t coming with us.
Now, I know I know what Hassan would have faced if he kept me from our son. You are immediately the villain. The reasoning doesn’t matter. You’ve taken the person they love most in the world from them, and they resent you for it.
I know already know what he’s going to ask.
“Daddy?” Like clockwork. He’s reverted to mostly English, having stopped asking for Hassan in Arabic weeks ago.
“He’s not here, sweetie.” I say for what feels like the millionth time.
“Daddy?” His face scrunching up. His little lip poking out. The betrayal is clear. The men surrounding us. Supposedly protecting us. Are not his daddy. No matter how kind they are. Well, at least some of them. Ozymandias, DiDi’s cousin, is not at all the kind of man you allow around children. He is a stone-cold killer for what I’ve gleaned from the days I’ve been here. Not that his brother. The smoother yet just as deadly, Nikko with his molten, sliver eyes isn’t just as deadly if not more so.
“This is fucked up by all measure.” Oz hisses. “I got other shit on my agenda. I don’t have time to be babysitting for your ass, bro.”
“Man, fuck you and your little revenge. Trust. You got plenty of time to make El Patrón de la Muerta pay for fucking up your spot. We pay our debts. Always.” Comes the cold reply from the man I haven’t seen in two decades who now runs one of the most powerful criminal syndicates in the world, Nikko Savalle. He swooped in like a super hero the night of the attack at the concert, rescuing me and Ayaan, taking us to safety.
The reports following has us presumed dead. The intel given to Nikko was this was Hassan’s plan the entire time.
“Ummy?” Looking at my son’s outreached hand, I force a smile, taking the block he holds out to me expectantly.
Taking the wooden cube, then another and another, I build the tower he insists on us making and has since we’ve been in Western Cape. I realized soon after getting here that it’s the same replica of the place that he and his father built while I was convalescing after the poisoning.
The thought tore through me as I wondered why didn’t he just let me pass away then? Why nurse me back only to kill me in such a spectacular fashion? Was it so that no questions would be asked if the attack occurred in public rather than in the palace, where the suspicion would fall closer to him and his family?
The days that have passed have not made the treachery easier to bear. Were it not for my son. I’d wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. My heart is broken, yet for him I rise every day to face this new normal. My husband tried to kill me.
The news coverage saying we both perished is all over the global news. And there have been updates every day. Rob didn’t miss one beat in playing the distraught dad and giving interviews. Hassan looks distraught from the few videos I’ve seen. Looking at him, you’d think that he’s had his heart ripped out root and stem. But after having the evidence laid out before me by Nikko and Oz in such a matter of fact dispassionate way has allowed me to see his betrayal for what it is.
“There is a certain expertise my brothers and I have,” Nikko coldly informed me the day after I arrived and demanded answers from him.
Nodding, I digested the information that the little boy my sister, Song, used to feed through a cut out in a window screen grew up to be a ruthless billionaire assassin.“I was contacted through a network we don’t use anymore but for the most extreme cases. The mark was you and the baby, the amount offered astronomical even for us — one hundred fifty million per soul. We had three hours to agree or it would move to another organization that is known for our same efficiency — The Tatsumoto Yakuza and they, like us, never miss. When I saw it was you. I took it, knowing it was the only way to keep my promise.”
“That was the promise of a baby.” I told him in a shaky voice.
“It was a promise, nonetheless.” He contended me with a shrug.
“I attempted to go through channels to discover who made the request. Originally, I wanted to reach out to your husband, but something told me to hold back because previous experience has taught us that these requests come from those closest to home. We were not surprised when we discovered the wire transfer originated from one of Hassan Al Rasheed accounts.”
Thinking about it now doesn’t make it easier. My chest feels like it’s been hacked apart with a rusty hammer. Blow after malicious blow to the dream I had for my little family.
How could I be so simple to believe his lies? Hoping the dream could be any different really had me fucked up this time.
“Mommy?” Ayaan’s hopeful but still sad gaze draws my attention. So like his daddy, but innocent — guileless, no lies or betrayal.
“Yes, sweetie?” My heart twinges looking down, at the little family group he’s assembled.
“Babba, mommy, baby,” he smiles, a new tooth poking through. A new tooth, I promise myself Hassan will never see. I have to protect my son.
“We need to talk.” Trying to keep the exaggeration from my sigh, I nod to Nikko as he leads me into his brother’s office after I put Ayaan down for the night. He cried when I told him that daddy wasn’t there. I was feeling low, not knowing how I could make my son understand he would not see his daddy again.
One day, I was going to have to tell him the truth, and I dread that day with every fiber of my being.
The room is has a wall screen. There is a meeting in progress. Five blacked-out screens. The people silhouetted in the background. All men look massively jacked. The notorious Bastard Brother Syndicate. Two are present here with me — Nikko and Oz, the others they’ve not named. Nikko told me it’s better that I don’t know. The brothers prefer their anonymity. To know them is to die.
“I guess. I’m special.” I quipped to Nikko only to have Oz grumble, “You better fucking believe it Empress and it ain’t because of you being the biggest star in the world.”
I knew immediately what it was and my tummy twisted at the thought. It had nothing to do with me at all and everything to do with my youngest sister, Song.
“What’s up?” Raising my eyes to Nikko’s tall form, I talk to him, knowing the other bastard brothers have never spoken when I was at their meetings.
“Lyric.” My heart stops hearing FADE’s voice as his face fills a screen. Ghad is beside him. Both of them wear masks of fury.
“Mistakes were made.” Nikko quirks a brow. His voice cool and nonchalant, like he could be speaking of the exceptional weather here.
“Nig — man, fuck you.” Oz surges from where he sits behind a massive desk. He slams his hands down hard on the mahogany surface. It’s a replica of the resolute desk that once belong to the father they were happy to tell me they killed for all his heinous crimes against their mothers. That’s what brought the seven together — that and taking down traffickers of women and children — the one heroic thing the criminal syndicate does.
A crescendo of voices in various languages rises from the screens. In my travels I’ve pick up several profanities. This conversation is definitely laden with them. There’s no yelling, just chilling statements, sneering asides and mirthless chuckles.
“The fuck you mean — mistakes were made?” Oz seethes over the others. But his voice is never raised. His eyes speak murder and for his kinfolk, too. His eyes flick to me for a hard second. “Little lady, your husband is on his way with his folk and I don’t mean the Gendarmerie, I’m talking about his special forces. My advice, don’t run.”
Stunned as he grabs a flack jacket and stalks toward me. He stops just short of me and cups my chin. “I really like, Sassafras. Stay alive so you can sing it again.” He gives me a wink. Then, with a heated look at Nikko that speaks of retribution, he leaves.
“Wh-what’s going on?” I can’t stop the stammer as I look wildly at the screens. Nikko and back again. “Hassan’s on his way?”
“Yes.” Nikkio says, rubbing his hand through his thick hair. “The account was a decoy. Ghad and Hisashi Takeda discovered the discrepancy. They also tracked the payment to us. FADE reached out to me as a courtesy to let me know of the discovery and the opp to recover you and Ayaan.”
“When will it start? There are innocent people here, FADE?” I look at the screen where he’s looking on.
“Why didn’t you reach out to me, Lyric?” he demands. Ghad says something I can’t hear shaking his head — probably telling his brother I’ve been through enough. The truth is Nikko didn’t want to give me a phone, thinking I’d reach out to Hassan demanding answers. “I’ve seen others fall for one of these guy’s lies and end up a year later with a toe tag. The same went for my family. No contact until her was sure I didn’t have Stockholm Syndrome.
“Right. It doesn’t matter. It’s imminent. No one will be spared and you won’t be either if you resist. Hassan is not fucking around.” He warns me, disappointment still evident in his manner and gaze.
“Can’t you call him? I’m just finding all this out. I didn’t know—” I stop when Ghad shakes his head.
“We already tried to talk to him, babe. You need to do whatever you have to in order to stay safe.” Ghad looks down at his phone, then hazel eyes lock on the two of us standing there. “Nikko, you got about five minutes.”
I can feel the hesitation ripple through the man beside me, but I know Hassan will cut him down the moment he sees him. I have only one thought.
It seems our thoughts we are in accord. “How’s Song?” He asks for my ears only.
“I think you need to stay alive to find out for yourself.” I turn to him.
“Your debt is repaid.”
“Not by a long fucking shot.” He scoffs a little smile, softening the severe angles of his face.
“Then save Song. She’s not safe.” I demand.
The transformation is immediate. He jerks a nod, dipping his head to press a chaste kiss on my forehead. Then he’s gone.
One by one the screens flick off, leaving only FADE and Ghad looking at me with worry marking their faces.
“Lyric—” FADE starts.
“I got this.” I assure them with a confidence I don’t feel.
“You sure about that?” Ghad demands. It’s then I realize he’s made contingencies and by the look FADE shoots him, he’s just realizing it too.
I nod. “He’s my husband. I love him.”
“Fuck.” I hear them both swear as I head out to the front of the house to meet my husband.
The anticipation damn near cripples me as I wait for Hassan. Tummy tight with anticipation I go through the front room entrance of Oz’s palatial living room, turning on all the lights.
I wish I’d changed out of the frilly gown and matching wrap, miffed that Nikko didn’t give me heads up about what was going down before I went in to hear this news.
Joggers and a fleece would have been better even in the South African heat.
Hearing a fleet of vehicles converging on the compound, I move to the entrance. There’s no point in having them kick down Oz’s doors and tear apart his home so soon after the man just had it renovated.
Briefly I wonder if Ayaan will wake from the noise.
Opening the door just as the black tactical vehicle pulls to a stop at the bottom of the drive, I step out the door.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I try to quell to shivers racking my body that have nothing to do with the warmth of the night.
What if they are wrong? I know Ghad is a genius hacker. I’ve heard about Hisashi Takeda. But what if Nikko’s intel was right? But FADE would kill Hassan’s entire family if he harmed me. Ghad, though, the quieter of the two brothers is even more deadly.
A dark figured clad from head to boot in black emerges, slamming the door behind him. My heart seizes seeing his tall frame silhouetted against the night sky. Seeing me, he pauses for a second, raising his fist high in ‘hold’ sign before he starts towards me, his strides eating up the distance.
He’s coming so fast I start backing up. I reverse into the entrance when he finally stops, his boots touching my bare toes.
Gauntleted hands reach up, ripping the mask free of his face. A thin, still healing scar is etched across high on his jaw.
“My son?” he grits. Gaze fierce, his rakes me with barely held rage.
I almost stumble, backing away, righting myself as I pivot, just in time to save me from crashing into the marble floor. Steadying myself, I inhale, trying to calm myself.
Leading him up a flight, then another of stairs to the guest wing of the house, I try to ignore the heat lasered on my back like bullseye.
Standing at the door of my son’s temporary room, I take a moment to catch my breath. Twisting the nob slowly, I ease the door open with Hassan’s presence at my back.
The heat of his body brushes past me as he strides over to the baby bed Oz had set up for Ayaan before we arrived. He’d been waiting playing action figures with Ayaan when I arrived. The picture was of pure doting uncle.
One could almost forget he’s a remorseless killer. It had been his job to retrieve my baby while Nikko came to rescue me. My childhood friend rightfully knew I wouldn’t question him if he came and got me.
“All this is left over from when my cousin Easy came to visit.” He shrugged when he showed me to the room. Only I knew it wasn’t just any visit. She ran away from her biker husband, Angel, for nearly a year. He attacked this compound to get her and their son, Judah, back.
Watching Hassan, as he stands over our son for a long moment, staring down at the mop of curly hair, my heart feels heavy with deep empathy. The pain etched on his face breaks my heart.
His shoulders rise, then fall heavily, as with what I assume is relief. Pulling off one of his gauntlets, he reaches down, touching Ayaan’s curls.
Shooting me a hard look, his mouth hardens. “Where’s the motherfucker who took him and did this to my face?”
“He left not long before you came.” I tell him.
He looks at me for a long uncomfortable moment, his face a mask of icy stoicism, before turning back to gaze down at Ayaan.
Finally he brushes a kiss on his forehead, closing his eyes with reverence.
Stiffening when he moves toward me, I will myself to move, to run, though I know there is nowhere I can go.
I shouldn’t further antagonize him — I know that still as my feet dart away and down the hall before I can even think of anything else to do. I have no plan, but fear is a huge motivation.
A rough, cruel chuckle grits out of him as his stride eats a way too easy pace behind me.
“Where do you think to go, wife? Every exit is covered.” He doesn’t even raise his voice. He doesn’t break stride. Not when I take the stairs.
Heading far away from my son, I rush out to the vast lush grasses of the property.
Maybe I just don’t want him to kill me in front of my son. Maybe I hope he’ll see reason.
Realization hits that I’m innocent in all this, that I’m only making it worse. He knows I had no choice but to go. I’m sure FADE told him my side.
Pulling up short right before the property line gives way to the endangered animal sanctuary that Oz keeps, I feel a stitch in my side.
Turning, I face him.
“Oh no, keep running,” he growls, shaking his head slowly. His stride is slow and leisurely, like a predator talking his prey. He licks his lips, nodding for me to keep going.
“Uh-uh,” stumbling a little, I keep backing up. Taking a quick look behind me, then back to him, I hold my hands up. My fingers are trembling. Squeezing them doesn’t help, but I keep them up to maintain some semblance of distance, but he just keeps coming.
“Animals roam freely in the sanctuary.” I add, backing up to a mural tree.
Eyes narrowing, his mouth thins. “Animals roam free all over this property. But I guess you were too busy entertaining other men to take note.”
Keeping my hand raised to ward him off. “I mean the big ones.” Clarifying, ignoring his insinuation.
He knocks my hand away. “I’m the deadliest motherfucker out here. The only thing you have to worry about is me, little sparrow.”
“I didn’t know what was going on until tonight. Nikko said mistakes were made?—”
He leans into me, thrusting his face close to me, snarling through clenched teeth, “How the fuck are you involved with the Savalle Syndicate? Why would they break our alliance for you, Lyric?”
His eyes sweep over me. A sick feeling settles in my stomach. He’s already thinking the worse but there are some secrets I can’t speak on even to him — especially when they aren’t my own.
“All I can say is I grew up with Nikko. He was our neighbor in Elyton Village.”
His jaw works hard. “FADE said as much but said y’all thought he was dead. So was it Oz? Did he make you fuck him for protection?”
“No, no, no! Why would you even say something like that?” My throat is raw from running from him and the pain from his awful assumptions.
“Because men like them don’t just do shit like this. They only care about their seven. No women. But I’ve seen what women like you can do. How you can twist a motherfucker in knots. And none is better at it than you, Empress. Had me trusting that you’d keep your word.” Bitter hard words spew from him like poisoned daggers straight into my heart.
Fury has me pushing hard at his chest. “Well, I don’t have to fuck anyone to get them to do shit for me, asshole. A-and I kept my word. I was told you were behind the attack.”
His hand shoots out against my chest. Something dark twist on his face. My back slams into the bark of the tree. Wincing, I grab his arms, holding me away from him.
I’m the one that was attacked. Me. Now I’m having to defend my integrity. No fucking way. Anger tears through me further igniting the frustration and misery of not knowing who orchestrated all of this, not to mention the trauma my baby has had to endure.
“Let me go.” I all but scream, wanting so bad to get at him, fight him.
His strong hand circles my neck, squeezing. “The fuck I will. I’m going to put a fucking chip in you. This is the last time I’m tracking your little ass down across a got damned continent. Get something straight, wife. If I wanted to kill your little dumb ass, you’d be dead and no one could prove otherwise.”
Shaking me for emphasis, a cruel smile slashes his face, making his dimples a sinister kiss. “It’d be easy to do. You’re so fucking little. I can break you without even trying. You keep pressing a motherfucker. Trying me. I should put us both out of our misery.”
I can tell he means it. Twisting, I kick his shin, trying to get free.
“Sto—”
“Aht-aht.” He’s not playing. This is why he wants me to run. And jut like the Pavlov effect, my body responds. Shaking my head, I squirm.
“Run, little songbird.” His eyes dip. He leans into me and I feel his heavy dick pressing into me.
“I told you what would happen if you ran from me. I tried to be the good guy when I gave you my name, but now I see you want to be treated like a little slut who likes to run from her man. Now I’ve caught you, sparrow. You’ve left me no choice but to treat you like the little whore that you are.”
Ohmygoodness.
“Run, lil’motherfucker. Run for your fucking life. Because when I catch you. I’m breaking you.” His hand drops and he steps back.
Eyes full of promise and retribution are the last thing I notice before I turn running, knowing I’d have a better chance with the wild animals than the man whose heart I broke.