Chapter Twenty-One #2
“What the fuck do you mean I’m no longer allowed here?
” I stare up at the wall that is Maksim Giordano, the owner of Eden, Inferno’s sister club located in New York’s meat-packing district.
It’s a high-end casino on the first floor and the second floor, which I need to get into, is like Inferno, complete with VIP rooms and girls down to fuck everywhere.
His jaw clenches as he peers down at me, a cold hard, already calculated stare. “You almost killed the last girl you had here. Go home. You are not welcome here.”
“I pay my dues just like everyone else.” I argue. I really need to fuck someone. I have a meeting in the morning, and the anxiety is killing me from the inside out. Not to mention, they placed me in the wrong room at the Tower and my sheets smell wrong.
“Your money is no longer good here, Hoover.”
“But it’s good enough at Inferno and Pandemonium?” Pandemonium being the last of the three clubs located in Chicago.
“You can’t hurt my girls at Inferno. But you’ve been revoked from both Eden and Pandemonium.”
“We’re almost family. I know you have made negotiations to marry Sabrina.”
His jaw ticks. “I’m marrying Sabrina . Not you . You and I are not family. We will never be family. I want nothing to do with a sociopath.”
“I’ll be telling the Elders about this.” I threaten. Childish, I know.
He looks bored with me now, but I can’t exactly tell.
He always has the same expression on his face.
Menacing as all fuck and I’d be lying if I didn’t say he scares me a bit.
That’s what happens, I guess, when you’re the byproduct of the two heads of the mafia and bratva coming together to stop wars from waging.
He smirks and shivers skate across my skin.
“Do as you please. It will make no difference to me if you run back to your secret brotherhood like a little bitch , Simon, because the contract has been signed . I’m set to marry the Syndicate princess.
I’ll still gain more power, and you’ll still look like a pussy . ”
I fuck my wife that night and never again.
Three Weeks Prior…
“We've decided to investigate this internally .” Stephen says, his voice low like thunder and Jonas steps back into his place, bowing his head. I hate how fucking happy he looks, I mean, well fucked. I keep my smirk to myself, Andrew Mikaelson keeps shifting from foot to foot. He always hated having to stand around at these meetings. You’d think with all the Adderall he’s on, he'd be able to keep his shit together.
He finds me, after the meeting, cloak off and hair a mess from the hood. “Looks like I missed a lot while I was gone.”
“No shit, Andrew.”
“I can’t make sense of it.”
“Of what?”
“Jacob Cartwright died what, two years ago?”
I nod.
“Even if Riordan was right and Raven is doing this, that’s impossible. She was at Lorne Wood. It couldn’t have started then.”
“Jonas killed Cartwright. It’s in the ledger.”
“Didn’t anyone contend it?”
I shake my head. “Mr. Cartwright died the year before. That’s why Jacob was so gung-ho about killing Raven and taking his father’s place, keeping the legacy going. She was supposed to be an easy kill. I mean, five plus the witness.”
His face is somber and then he shakes his head. “Now there’s someone between the cloaks killing us off one by one.”
I grunt. “Everyone who signed their name beside hers.”
His eyes darken, still staring at me as he’s called away. Because he knows what I know. There are only two of us left that were there that night.
Two weeks prior…
Me: I’m pretty sure Clarissa is trying to kill me.
Father: ?
Me: I found strawberries in the refrigerator .
Father: That’s not enough evidence to end the contract. Are the strawberries touching any of your food?
Me: No. But I’m also pretty sure she’s cheating on me.
Father: You’ll have to dive deeper. Put a cloak on her. Have her followed.
Me: *OK hand emoji*
I throw my head back, looking at the ceiling in exasperation as Cheryl, my executive assistant, brings me another cup of coffee despite it being five in the afternoon.
I thank her and turn to look out of the window Hoover & Sons Enterprises’ Boston location.
I’m here, instead of D.C., because Father is in London for some charity gala on behalf of our company since I’ll be going to the Athletic Holiday Banquet at RMU.
We’ve poured millions of dollars into the athletic department, even though RMU doesn’t really need more money.
At this point, it could be considered a bank.
“Mr. Hoover?” My assistant calls for me from outside of my office.
“Yes, Cheryl?”
“Your wife called, she’s on her way to the banquet.”
I thank her again, still looking out at the Boston Harbor, wishing I didn’t have to go to this thing.
But, as luck would have it, I arranged for us to be sitting by the Andersons, seeing as my father and I donated over ten million dollars alone.
I’m sure that could have gone to the poor or…
their spawn, made the world a better place.
But in the end, their money goes back into our pockets so why bother?
I grab my coat from the coat rack and begin dressing myself to step out into the bitter cold the Northeast has to offer.
My wife (of course) looks beautiful. You’d be an idiot not to think she’s gorgeous. She’s a wet dream… with a small hickey on her collarbone .
Aren’t I a lucky motherfucker… Raven is five seats almost caddy corner away from me.
Clarissa comes back with more than one plate of food, another thing she’s been doing – eating more than usual.
At first, I believe she’s brought me a few things to snack on, and it may seem like that to others – but she brought a bowl of strawberries.
That’s fine, I won’t be kissing or fucking her, so it doesn’t matter.
But then the dumb bitch tries to feed me a grape.
She makes a spectacle and excuses herself and I get the waiter’s attention and have him take away the bowls of fruit she brought.
What a fucking waste of human space. The conversation continues around me, but I watch as Jonas dotes on Raven, feeding her grapes and bits of strawberries and whatever else is in front of her.
For God sake’s she mute , not invalid. She tries to shove him off, but he feeds her anyway, not partaking in the conversation unless he’s asked a question and has to.
A part of me is a little jealous, another is slightly happy for him, and the rest of me, a major part of me, is fucking sick at the disgusting display of affection. Jonas finally ceases to feed her and drinks from his champagne and his water when the lights go down.
With all of the attention on Coach Sutton, I can look at Raven, see the silver stripe of hair on her temple, the scar she tries to hide but can’t.
Instead, Jonas is watching me. I incline my head and force myself to listen to the different Coach’s speech.
Awards are given out and yadda-yadda-yadda…
Jonas wins the MVP award, and Clarissa comes back to the table in time to watch him receive it.
Of course he did. He deserves it, honestly. Stepping up for Chase and Riordan. I heard great things from my father when he would speak to the coaches over the phone.
After accepting his award, he steps off the dais and returns to the table only to kiss his mother on the temple, practically scoop Raven up into his arms and they leave.
“It must be nice,” my wife says as she watches the duo, “to be loved so fiercely. ”
Elena, Jonas’ adoptive mother, just grins.
Three Days Prior…
“Has Clarissa RSVP’d to the Monroe Holiday party?” My father asks, settling in the chair before my desk. I look up from the next merger we’re working on for the Mikaelson’s, which is what we specialize in.
“I believe she has.”
He nods. “Good. Your mother and I won’t be able to attend.”
I blink up at him. “Because?” I trail off.
He stares at me. “Your mother’s sister is in hospice as of this morning, so we’ll be with her.”
“You know, for a big CEO, you sure do take a lot of days off.”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “When you have your son as COO, you’ll be able to do the same.”
This boils my blood. “Not funny,” I growl.
“Breed, son. When the time comes, raise the child through financial means and then bring the child forth when it comes of age to take your place.”
“Our world doesn’t constitute of less than quality half-breeds. Just look at Stephen. Having his hiding in the shadows only being called upon as a Watcher.”
Father clasps his hands together and rests them on his stomach.
Still flat with exposed ridges even in his old age.
I would know. I work out with him five to six days a week downstairs in our facility’s gym.
I may be biased but we have great genetics.
If my darling little wife didn’t have a fucked womb…
we could have probably negotiated later on to get more powerful within the Syndicate.
With Clarissa and my children, it should have been Tyler and Raven’s offspring but… you know .
My father has been quite for too long just staring at me, I think he’s having a brain aneurism.
But I don’t blink and neither does he. “Go to the party. Try to have a good time, and we’ll reconvene when I get back.
The hospice nurse that spoke to your mother said it could be any day now.
So we’ll probably be back before you even remember we were gone. ”
“Have a good Christmas, dad.”
He gets up, fixing the sides of his suit jacket. “Come, let’s go to lunch. I had your assistant make us reservations at Fulmine.”
Present Day
You know that feeling when you’re doing something you know you probably shouldn’t be doing, like your body is forewarning you not to enter the abandoned home that’s dilapidated and barely hanging on or enter the dark tunnel to see if you come out at the end?