Chapter 22 Jess
JESS
I slurp down some iced coffee, and it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
“He wants to use the kids as heirs,” I say to Savannah.
She sits opposite me, staring in horror. “Heirs? What? Like he’s part of the royal family or some shit?”
“Honestly,” I reply, “I don’t see why he needs heirs. He has enough people working for him in the Bratva. Can’t he choose one of them? Leon kisses his ass enough.”
“Aren’t crime bosses known for being superstitious? Something about keeping the bloodline clean.”
I take another sip of coffee. “That would make sense. Nadir doesn’t have any family.”
“See.” Savannah flares her eyes. “I told you there’s always backstory.”
“Yeah. Bad backstory.” I lean in, keeping my voice to a minimum. “Savannah—he killed his own family.”
“The hell?”
“My thoughts exactly,” I say between sips of coffee. “He said he was angry at them for some reason. But Nadir is too stoic for his own good and won’t tell me why.”
Savannah twirls the plastic cup through her hands, thinking. “He’s not telling you because he doesn’t want to be perceived as weak.”
“Are you sure?”
“If he’s happy to tell you he murdered his entire family, he shouldn’t have a problem telling you the reason why.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. The guy’s hiding something pretty vulnerable close to his chest. He doesn’t wanna get hurt.”
I suppose that’s why he flipped and went full villain mode on me when I walked around that corner.
“I don’t get it—why would Nadir want people to see him in a bad light?”
Savannah shrugs. “To scare people away maybe?”
I nibble on the straw, my stomach turning over as I run over the script in my head of what I’m gonna say to Savannah. How I’m gonna come clean about what happened six years ago when Rosie almost knocked over the candle.
“Savannah…” I sigh, my shoulders deflating. “Look, there’s something you should know.”
But Savannah’s gaze is elsewhere, following someone across the street.
I flip around in my chair as Nadir approaches. And he’s beelining right toward us.
“Oh, he has got to be joking.”
Savannah looks at both of us.
Me.
Nadir.
Nadir again.
Still Nadir.
Her jaw drops to the floor. “That’s….him? This is the famous Nadir?”
“Did somebody say my name?”
I hate how much I have to tilt my head to see his face. I don’t wanna see his face. I want nothing to do with him.
Shit, his hair is disheveled, just the way I like it. I can’t help but notice that his collar is askew too. And is that…blood.
My jaw falls to the floor with Savannah’s.
“Nothing to worry about,” Nadir says calmly, watching me. “But, Jessy. I need a word.” He wiggles his bloodstained finger at me, signaling me up.
“Can’t you see I’m in the middle of drinking coffee?” I tap on the lid. “It’ll have to wait.”
“Actually, this can’t wait.”
I glance at Savannah to see what she makes of the intrusion, but her jaw is still on the floor, her eyes totally blank as she sits and stares. The women around us seem to be doing the same, letting their coffee go cold.
Nadir isn’t interested in the attention. Just me.
“Whose blood is that?”
My question snaps Savannah out of her trance. “Blood?” She blinks. “Why do you have—?”
“Just paint.” Nadir holds his finger up in demonstration, clearing the air. Multiple other people overheard Savannah’s question. “My office is being repainted. Nothing to worry about.”
Red walls painted in his victims’ blood. That’s very on brand.
“Jess.” He snaps his fingers and gestures behind him. “I don’t have all day.”
“Right. Because we all have to work on your time.” I take a sip of coffee. “Whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of my friend.” I toss her a look across the table. This will be about the heir situation. Or maybe Taro. God, that better be his blood on Nadir’s shirt.
“Very well.” Nadir steals a chair from a neighboring table and sits with us, pulling out his phone. Clearing his throat, he navigates to an app and pulls up some kind of footage.
My stomach drops.
No.
This can’t be what I think it is.
But it is.
The candle burns in the middle of the table. Two small hands reach out, taking it from the holder. Rosie inspects the flame, which is extremely close to her face. Like, less than a centimeter away from scalding her nose.
“Pass me that.” Savannah grabs the phone and watches in horror as Rosie plays with the candle, crawling on the floor, giggling. And I’m nowhere in sight.
“You were supposed to be…”
“Savannah. Please. This is what I was about to tell you. I can explain.”
“I’ve seen enough.” The metal chair scrapes against the ground as Savannah stands up, marching away with the rest of her coffee.
I watch her disappear into the flow of pedestrians, and then turn and face Nadir.
I grip the table edge to control my anger as my blood turns to steam. First, he plans to use my kids as business pawns, then he ruins my friendship with Savannah when I was just about to tell her the truth. And he does all of that while looking very fuckable.
It’s so not fair.
I rise from my chair. I need to go after Savannah.
“Fuck you.” I flip him off.
Bad idea. He hooks his finger around my middle one and uses it as leverage to steer me back toward him, burying me in his chest and playing it off as a hug. While he’s doing that, I smell aftershave mixed with the metallic scent of blood.
He just killed someone.
But it could be worse. He could’ve seen another woman this afternoon instead.
Rather a murderer than a cheater.
God, what the hell is wrong with me?