Chapter 3
Konstantin
Manipulating and blackmailing a nun certainly wasn’t in my grand scheme of things, but nevertheless, it had been proven beneficial in my cause.
Especially with the nun in question.
“Blair,” Her name left my mouth like a sweet sacred melody.
Watching her from a distance as she stopped by the garden.
I lingered in the shadows of the room by the windowsills so no one would see me, but I could plan and track every single one of their movements.
I cleaned my gun with a cloth as I stood with my wet slicked-back hair from taking a shower.
Tracking what they did, when they did it, and why?
It was a basic necessity to survive.
Amongst the scum of the world and the less advanced-minded individuals.
The nature of man was backstabbing, so no one was too safe.
Conspiring with an ally like her was no different. However, you could say she wasn’t a copy like the others. Actually, the opposite, if I were honest.
Today was some type of routine activity where the nuns did an assortment of activities with young children.
Blair was in the rosebush garden, sitting on the ledge of a water fountain that had a statue of a cherub behind her, reading an illustrated kid version of the Bible to the children who lay on the ground in front of her.
They attentively listened with round, curious eyes and open mouths as she asked them questions, and they shot their little arms up to answer.
The beady sun cast down on them, especially Blair, who appeared like she had a round halo surrounding the crown of her head as the wind brushed back the few visible strands of her hair and she smiled tenderly. Rendering her the most captivating thing out there.
If she were a mother, she would have been the best.
Even in her conservative attire of the ankle-length black dress, a thick white veil, and a long-sleeved shirt, her body was cut and contrasted against its modesty.
Her body was a sinner’s dream, one that begged to be pressed against, devoured, and worshipped.
Plastered in a Playboy magazine.
Her waist-long messy russet brown hair complemented her unique siren hazel eyes, pulling me like a sailor to the lost sea. Only causing me to drown and stay forever in her trance.
Everything about her was temptation.
Nothing holy or saintly.
She would drive sinners straight to hell with one look and with one word to their knees, because she was worthy of reverence just like a queen.
But given her newfound occupation, the only reverence she had was for God.
Personally, I had nothing against religion; that was between God and each person who chose what and whom to believe.
There were people of all kinds— true believers, hypocrites, fanatics, and ones like myself who, when all else was gone, came back to where we felt listened to.
Not exactly all-encompassing, not even fully practicing the faith, but I knew somewhere out there in the string of cosmos, there was a God existing, watching over, and listening. We just had to come looking for him.
In my life I had seen all types of “believers,” but Blair was one I couldn’t categorize.
Not that it was possible to know her fully between the few days we’ve known each other, but still all humans had a fundamentally designed MO. Whether it was money, ambition, greed, or lust, there was something ingrained in us to make us work and tick.
So what was hers?
Why was she in this place when she was destined for much more?
My hand started to twitch, like a teenage boy with his first crush. Remembering the touch of her skin from last night as she looked like a divine angel, all wet under the moonlight. It was an itching sensation I had to clear, or else I wouldn’t sleep great at night.
I want her.
Are you insane?
Probably the most sane I’ve been in years.
I should have kept your ass locked in jail.
Been there. Done that. Now I deserve my prize.
Prize? Don’t you forget we had a whole ordeal with Aleskandra Reina De La Rossa? This should be the last thing on our minds.
Speaking of which, that was a whole other shitload I had to deal with.
One where I didn’t know where to begin.
When I made the deal with the she-devil, I was desperate. She knew her cards, holding all the power a man could dream of, and she knew my position. How could I not bend the knee? After all, what man wouldn’t crave salvation from a damned hell?
Yet that begs the question: what did she want?
My presence was a ghost, forgotten in the past with no one to remember me, and I lingered on to have some capability of life.
My connections and resources to the underworld were cut off.
The only thing I had to my name was the story they told of my younger days that were stained with bloodlust, women, money, power, and fear.
Most importantly, the secrets of the Made men who died before me.
There was nothing out of my reach.
Everything was beneath my feet.
Now I was beneath someone else like a fucking puppet, and I’d rather slit my throat with a razor blade than be stuck inside someone’s spider web.
Still, why after all this time?
Why would Aleskandra appear out of thin air demanding “loyalty” from me when she was the top predator?
She held the key to hell and sat on its throne.
No one in the organized crime scene held such power.
Everyone in comparison was an anomaly, a pawn to be bought and owned.
Titled and crowned by her father by birth and wanted by Interpol on the same day, at fifteen she made her first official initiation and became the first Made woman to exist. Sworn behind a legion of her father’s men and recognized by each mafia, from the Camorra to the Bratva, the Outfit, the Cosa Nostra, the Las Vegas Strip, the Colombian and Mexican Cartel, and the Yakuza, that she was indeed Luciano Rossi’s sole rightful heir.
The rest who followed were bound to her command.
She was a queen of monsters and had everything at the edge of her fingertips.
So why? Why now?
What was she planning?
An uncanny sensation pinched my gut.
Either she was playing her cards, or she was building an army for war.
Either way, in the long run this wouldn’t end well.
And people like me would end up as casualties.
That was the last thing I wanted after years of being a scapegoat. I wanted my life back, and now that I had it, I wasn’t going to sacrifice myself anymore. If anything, the demise of my enemies was my next step after this— that was “if” I could escape.
My thoughts ended when chatter emanated from the other side of the door, as I steadied my gun and raised it in that direction.
Tilting my head to get the best shot and view of who was entering through the sliver of the door hinge.
There was only a long white veil and a black dress.
As inconspicuous as the garment was, that outfit gave no clue since everyone wore the same thing.
The knob turned as the door opened, and the person angled their body to step inside when a childish boy voice called out.
“Blair! Blair!”
His confirmation calmed my on-edge nerves as I lowered the gun, not needing to hurt the kid. Children were the most innocent and helpless human beings. Any person who harmed them deserved nothing more than death. A cruel, agonizing, burning death.
While death would come for many, I listened to their interaction.
“Yes?” She answered patiently, her tone softer as she seemed to be sensitive to children.
“I made this for you.”
“Aw,” she admired whatever it was.
“You looked a little sad last week, so I made it so you’re always smiling, Sister!”
“How kind. Grazie, Maurico! It means a lot to me.”
“Prego! I’ll see you next week, sister! Hope you take care of it! Bye!”
“Bye.” Her voice was soft as she waved him off.
A moment afterwards, she stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and gave a tired sigh as she gazed at the makeshift lookalike doll. Glimmers of lovingkindness poured through her eyes as she touched it gently. It was as if it had restored her faith.
“Welcome back,” I said.
Her eyes trailed over to me, mediocrity replacing any former pleasant feeling.
“You’re still here,” she dryly commented, patting off the dust of her dress with an unconscious hand. The other tightly held the raggedy doll that looked like a ripped-off version of her.
“It’s a part of our whole negotiation.” I reminded her that I wasn’t here willingly, just out of convenience.
There was nothing but the presence of the cops, which made me stay.
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Blah. Fucking. Blah.” The curse word nonchalantly rolled off her tongue as she paused, threw her hands up, and exclaimed anguishly. “Shit! No fuck. Dammit. That’s not what I meant. Lord, forgive me.” She did the mark of the cross and then recited a Hail Mary.
I leaned back into the wall, crossing my arms, and observed her intently. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day.”
“Tell me about it. How do you think I ended up here and with you?”
It was the perfect opportunity to know more about my supposed ally. “And where were you before here?”
She turned her head, staring off somewhere in space, almost reminiscent of a past she longed to still have. “Rome. Monte Carlo. Singapore. LA. New York before that.”
“Quite the world traveler, aren’t you?”
A faint smile appeared on her rosy full lips, like there was nothing more she loved to do.
“It’s one of my favorite hobbies. I always wanted to travel the world ever since I was little.
I dreamed of going to different places, exploring cultures.
I’m a free soul. I don’t like to be bound by rules nor men.
I want to live how I please until my last dying breath. ”
One steady beat passed while the question daunted her mind.
“Did you miss that while you were … while you know, there?” she asked, throwing a glance in my direction.