Chapter 8
Genevieve
“ A hhhh!” I scream into my pillow.
I am so sick of being told where I can and can’t go. I am twenty-eight!
Why the fuck would he confine me back into this Godforsaken house again. I am already starting to go insane after five hours, but at least I am not under constant surveillance.
Lying on my bed, I roll over onto my back, staring at the ceiling.
Earlier, I had walked through the doors of the gym and caught a glimpse of a red flashing light in the corner of my vision. Fucking security cameras, but at least there hadn’t been anyone else in the gym with me at that time. I can cope with being watched from a distance.
I had made my way down to the basement gym and hit the treadmill before taking the rest of my frustration out on the poor unsuspecting bag. The face on the bag in my mind was my father’s.
I want him gone — no, I need him gone — but what will I do if he is? Do I run this place myself, take his place? I would, but only if I have Mason to help me.
I think I can get him to.
Unless he has some secret alliance with my father, in which case I can get myself killed just thinking about it.
I want out of this place but if I kill my father and Mason helps me run Murwood, we can turn this organisation into a place that has the potential to be unstoppable. We can try and call in another organisation too, like Blackmere.
The new boss should be willing, right? He already wants to take me for his own.
I pull the pillow over my face again and scream into it once more before tossing it to the side. I feel like my world is crashing down.
A whimper comes from Mia in her crate. I would be going completely stir crazy if it wasn’t for her. I roll over to my side and look over at the clock. It is three-thirty in the morning. Well, it looks like I’m not getting any sleep tonight.
It is always a ghost town in this house at night. You would think big bad mafia men would be partying, doing drugs or living it up with a hooker somewhere, but no. My father runs this place pretty tightly. No one is ever allowed to sample the merchandise because, as my father says, I need you to be all quick-witted and not addicted , and only family or those extremely close to anyone is allowed in. He doesn’t like outsiders. Too much potential to let the wrong person in and go running back to his rivals, so he makes damn sure no one has any outside world connections.
The sound of the front door closing makes me jump. It sounds like a gunshot going off in the dead silence of this house. The only bedrooms on the bottom of the house are mine and my father’s.
I quietly climb out of bed and make my way to the door. I peek out to see if I can make out who is coming home at this hour of the morning.
Mason.
He pauses at the bottom of the stairs, my room down the hall from where they are. He could look up at any moment and see me watching him.
I want him to. What would I do if he did? I have wanted him for so long, and that night I saw him when I was eighteen, when I got to kiss him for the first time and made him promise he would come back made me think he wanted me too. But then Rhys took us to a new house in the early hours of the morning and I never saw Mason again, until my father dragged me back here.
Would I just give in to my urges on the second night of being reconnected with him? I need him to help me, but where do I start with that?
He places one foot on the bottom step and then his eyes focus on the direction of my room. He slowly unbuttons his shirt as his leg lifts up onto the step.
My eyes scan over his muscular chest, the tattoo that sits prominently on his arm. I lick my drying lips.
He clears his throat and my eyes flick up to his. He is staring straight at me with a cheeky smile playing on his lips. He knows I am watching and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Through the quiet of the hall I hear him like he’s right next to me, whispering in my ear, when he says: “Go to sleep, Viv, I will see you later today.” Then he continues walking up the stairs.
I close my door when he disappears up the stairs. “What the fuck just happened?” I breathe out.
That vision will be ingrained in my brain for a very long time. The way his muscles moved as he undid each button, the ripple in his forearm as his fingers moved the fabric. I can just imagine how those muscles would move as his hands explore my body.
Climbing back into bed, I sigh as I pull the covers over me once again. My eyes close and images of Mason cross my vision. I can still hear his voice as if he stands right next to me: “Go to sleep, Viv, I will see you later today.” And with the memory of those words, my body relaxes and I drift off to sleep.
* * *
I wake a few hours later to the sound of someone knocking on my bedroom door.
“Viv, are you awake?” The sound of Mason’s voice coming through the door shocks me.
“Uhh, yeah, I am. Just give me a moment.” I throw the covers back and jump out of bed, quickly making my way to my wardrobe and pulling on a pair of shorts.
Walking over to the door, I open it up slightly. “Good morning.” He smiles at me. “Can I come in?”
“Morning?” I say, slightly confused, then look at my clock. Eleven-thirty. “Huh, I guess it still is morning.”
Opening the door a little more, I let him into my room before quickly shutting it behind me. “So why are you here this early? With the hour you came in last night I assumed you would still be asleep,” I ask, only to be greeted with that fucking smirk of his.
“Don’t need much sleep, Princess. A few hours and I am ready to go again.”
“Listen,” he starts, when I make no move to continue the conversation, because I honestly can’t think of anything to say. In my mind, he is just sitting on my bed, naked, waiting for me.
“Viv? Did you hear me?”
“Uhhh, sorry, my mind wandered off.” My cheeks redden. “What did you say?”
“I said I would like to take you out for coffee; now, if you want to. I want to talk to you about things.” He reaches forward, lacing our fingers together. “Things that I don’t want anyone else here knowing about.”
I nod, the feel of his touch like electricity down to my core. “Ok, just give me ten minutes to freshen up and then we can go.”
“Alright.” He smirks. “I’ll be waiting.”
He stands up and walks over to the door. As he opens it, he turns and looks at me, winks, and then retreats out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
I don’t think I have showered faster in my life.
After I dry myself off, I throw on a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a purple tank top and my Converse. “Bye Mia, sweetie. I’ll take you out into the yard when I get home.” I pat her. “I’m sorry I haven’t spent much time with you lately.”
She puts her head down on her paws and closes her eyes as I walk out into the hall. Turning to walk towards the stairs, I hear the clicking of shoes approaching. He always wears perfectly tailored suit pants and dress shirts. I don’t think I have ever seen him in anything else.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
“Yep.” I nod.
He flicks his head to the side, following close behind me as we walk over to the other side of the front courtyard. We walk through the rows of rose bushes, the gardeners walking around, tending to the lawn and flowers. They all nod in Mason’s direction as we walk by.
“You’re very well known around here, aren’t you?” I drop back so that I walk at his side.
“Growing up here and becoming your father’s second-in-charge has earned me respect.” He places his hand on my lower back, steering me towards his car.
“Are we leaving the grounds?” I ask, a little confused. I am certain my father didn’t want me to leave the mansion at all.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it will be ok.” He stops and looks over at me, holding my hands in his. “I am very well known amongst all our rivals, no one will ever think about messing with me. I don’t get called Viper for nothing.”
He places his hand around my back again and leads me down to a black Mustang. The car is gorgeous. “Yours?”
“Yep, now get in.” He opens the door and holds it for me. “We’re going for a drive.”
I give him a little curtsy and climb into the passenger seat. I watch as he makes his way around the front of the car, his hand lightly sliding across the paintwork before opening the door, dropping into the seat, and turning the car on.
The Mustang roars to life; I can feel the rumble in my core. The gates open for us and then we’re speeding out onto the street and towards our destination.
His eyes are focused on the road, occasionally glancing in my direction. I watch him the whole time. I know he is driving fast and weaving in and out of traffic, and any normal person would be holding the door handle with a death grip and pressing for that invisible brake pedal, but I feel safe with him. I know he will make sure nothing happens to me.
“So where are we going anyway?” I ask as he slows to make a turn.
“Just a little coffee shop I know.” He gives me a quick smile, the panty-dropping kind. The kind of smile that I feel inside me to my core. “It’s a quiet little place, just down the road from the bar.”
“Granny’s Diner?” I ask. My mother used to work there part-time and every weekend we would go for coffee.
“That’s the one, have you been there before?” His hand reaches over towards my leg, but he hesitates, pulling his hand back and placing it on the wheel again.
I want the touch, the warmth of his palm, and I can’t help the pang of disappointment I feel as he pulls away.
“I used to go there with my mother before she passed.” I pick at my fingers in my lap, sadness washing through me at the thought of her, but also stopping myself from reaching out to him for comfort.
“It made you happy coming here. But you haven’t been back for a long time because you wanted to keep those happy memories?”
I just nod.
The rest of the drive is quiet. My thoughts are on memories of my mother.
The chicken noodle soup she would bring me when I was sick as a child, and even in the last few years of her life. She never once stopped taking care of me. It wasn’t until her last few months, where her health declined, that I was there by her bedside every step of the way, until she took her final breath.
She took my hand, squeezing it tightly, her eyes becoming glassy as she said, “Make sure your father never controls you again. You need to do what you must to avoid him controlling you,” and then her eyes closed and her hand went limp. It had been that moment that I vowed to my mother and myself that I would do anything I could to take out Salvatore De Luca.
The feeling of Mason’s hand on my shoulder jolts me out of my memories and I jump slightly. “Whoa, it’s ok.” I instantly feel the cold as he moves his hand away again. “We are here.”
“Oh, sorry.” I move to undo my seat belt, but his hand lands on mine, silently asking me to wait. Nerves run through me and my eyes look at his lips for a moment, internally begging him to kiss me.
I look up at him with a questioning look, and he leans in closer to me. His face is mere inches away from my own. Now I want to taste his kiss. I’m breathing in his scent, whiskey and leather.
I could get used to this scent.
“Where did you go just now?” he whispers, a hint of mint coming off his breath.
“I– how– I was right here.”
He shakes his head. “Not what I meant, sweetheart.” His head tilts to the side. “In your mind, where did you go?”
I glance down at my feet in the footwell of the car. “Back to the day my mother passed.”
His hand moves up to my cheek, sparks coursing through my body and I am wondering if he is feeling the same. With a gentle swipe across my cheekbone, he leans back, unbuckling his own seat belt. He climbs out of the car and makes his way around to my side, opening my door for me.
“Come on, let’s go inside.” He smiles and closes the door after I step out.
The diner is just how I remember. White wood tables, red bench seats with a silver metal trim around them. An old jukebox at the back near the bathrooms with music playing in the background. Occasionally skipping. The bar area has a few people sitting at it but the diner is empty otherwise. Which is good for what I want to ask Mason to help me do. I just hope that he won’t go running back to my father and tell him my plans.
“Let’s go and sit back here.” Taking my hand, he pulls me towards the back booth. One where he can see everyone walking in and out of the place.
As we sit down, I look at him. “So what did you want to talk about?”
“Have you eaten?” he asks, changing the subject.
“You know damn well I haven’t eaten.” I raise a brow at him. “If you didn’t notice this morning, I had just woken up when you came knocking on my door.”
“Well,” he chuckles. “It’s not my fault you were up at stupid hours of the night, now, is it?”
That smirk of his will be the death of me. “I would have been asleep if I weren’t so worked up from being locked inside the house like it is a prison.” I sigh.
I must have looked at him like he’s an alien because all he does is laugh at me and then glances over to the waitress who has just appeared at our booth.
“What will it be today?” she asks, a hint of a southern accent slipping through. She looks to be around my mother’s age, her eyes wrinkling slightly as she smiles.
“I’ll have a coffee, black, one sugar and a stack of the blueberry pancakes,” Mason responds. She starts writing his order down.
“And you, dear?” She looks in my direction.
Picking up a menu, I scan it quickly. “Uhh, I’ll have a latte with two sugars and the strawberry pancakes, with some ice cream on the side.” I place the menu back into the holder on the table.
“Alright, I’ll be back in a moment,” she says, putting her pad back in the pocket of her apron and walking back over to the front counter.
“So, what information did you want to know?” Mason asks, his elbows resting on the table.
“Why has Blackmere sent threats to Father?” I ask.
“They are trying to assert their dominance, and they know that you are your father’s weak spot.” He watches me as he answers. “So if they can get you —”
“They have the power over my father,” I finish for him.
“Exactly.” He nods.
“So if they can get me, then they force my father’s hand in handing over Murwood.” He nods again. “Why do they want Murwood?”
My next question makes him think. “It’s a power thing. Rico, the boss of Blackmere, is around my age. If he takes you, then he has it all.” He glances up towards the order window, trying to judge if he can finish his answer before continuing. “He would have the girl, both jurisdictions and all the power.”
“Here you go, dears.” The waitress places our coffees on the table before walking away and returning only a few seconds later with our food.
“Thank you so much.” I smile, and she gives me a small smile in return before heading back to the front counter.
“Ok, so who did my father give you as your next target last night?” I say as I cut into my stack of pancakes and place a forkful into my mouth, moaning with satisfaction. “Oh my goddess, these are divine.”
He chuckles. “They are the best pancakes around.” He sips his coffee, eyes closing for a moment, savouring the taste before placing the mug back on the table. “As to your question, how did you know I was given a target last night?”
I blush. “I may have been eavesdropping after I stormed out of the office yesterday.”
“Naughty, naughty,” he smirks. “But also, nice work. Normally, I can tell if there are prying ears or eyes around, but I couldn’t sense you at all.”
“So who was the target?” I press.
“It was Carlos. Rico’s little brother.” His eyes are on me now, observing my reaction. “I was only meant to be on surveillance last night, but the dumb fucker had other ideas and I had to intervene earlier than planned.”
“What did he do that caused you to deviate from your plan?” I ask, shovelling another large mouthful of pancake into my mouth. Not very ladylike, I know, but these pancakes are like crack. I can’t stop.
“Your friend that works at the bar. Amber, I think her name is.” I nod, still shovelling food into my mouth as he continues. “Well, young Carlos decided it was a good idea to follow her out the back and try to have his way with her.”
My hand covers my mouth as I shake my head. Poor Amber. She does not deserve any of this. “Then what happened?” I need more information. I need to know she’s ok.
“I got to him before he could do anything worse than the slap across her face.” He takes a small bite of his food, following it with another sip of coffee. “I called Atlas and asked him to come down to the bar to keep an eye on her while she was closing up and to make sure that all his friends didn’t try anything with her either.”
Under that tough exterior, he has a soft spot for helping people who are in danger and also taking out those who cause said danger. “So, Carlos is —” I can’t finish that thought.
“Dead? Yeah.”
“Why was he your target?” I have an idea of the answer, but I need to hear it.
“To send a message to Rico. To show him that we can get to him and his family just as easy.” He finishes off his pancakes.
I inhale a deep breath and exhale quickly. It is now or never for me to ask for his help. “One more question.” I look into his eyes, hoping he can read my mind with what I want to ask.
“Of course, anything.” He reaches forward and places his hand on mine.
“Ok, so how do you really feel about my father and the organisation?” I feel him squeeze my hand as soon as the question leaves my lips.
“I love the organisation, I love doing what I do and I love everyone like they are my own family.” His eyes darken slightly. “And, while I am happy that I am the main point of call to watch out for you, I hate that whenever he says ‘jump’, I always have to respond with ‘How High, Sir’. It’s degrading and frustrating.”
“So if I suggest something that would take my father out of the equation, would you be willing to listen?” I ask cautiously.
He thinks for a moment before looking back at me with a darkness in his features. “What did you have in mind?”
Not what I had expected him to say, but now I have a feeling he wants my father gone as much as I do. “Ok, so my mother’s last wish to me before she passed was to never let my father control me again,” I begin. “But ever since these threats and his paranoia, I cannot escape his control. So, I want to kill him.”
Mason watches me for a moment, assessing. It is a strange request, I know, but he also seems like he’s considering it. “And if I helped you, what is in it for me?”
“You lead by my side,” I say. “Because one, I can’t think of anyone else I would rather rule with and two, you know a lot more about the workings of the Underbelly and I could use someone I trust.”
He nods. “As you know, the only way to become the new boss is to either be voted into the position or the old boss dies from natural causes and you are the next person in line, but even if we kill Sal, there is no guarantee that you will become the new boss.” He pauses for a moment, his fingers stroke the stubble on his chin. “I know I have a lot of allies amongst the men and I know they want him gone too. The way Sal is demanding, changing plans last minute and then not giving us realistic time frames to complete jobs, I am surprised none of them have put a bullet in his head yet. I will have to teach you how to take him out though, especially if you want to be the one to end it.”
“I agree. It also means that you will still be doing what you love and keeping an eye on me.” I smile. “But there may have to be some late-night sneaking around so that he isn’t suspicious about us spending a lot of time together, too.”
“What if…” His eyes met mine. “No, never mind, that’s a silly idea.”
“No idea is silly, what is it?” I push.
“Well, to sell us spending a lot more time together…” He is trying to figure out how to word whatever it is he is trying to say. “Ok, let’s try this. I am your father’s second, right?”
I nod, still not seeing where he is going with this.
“Well, what if I asked him for your hand in marriage, then that way, I would become the new up-and-coming boss. But what he won’t realise is that you will be the one really taking over?”
As soon as he mentions marriage, I almost spit the last of my coffee all over him, but instead swallow it in one large gulp and start coughing because it goes down the wrong hole.
“Bad idea?” he asks, trying to backtrack. “I knew it was a bad idea.”
He sits back, removing his hand from mine and running his fingers through his hair.
“No, no,” I say quickly. “Not a bad idea at all. In fact, it is a great idea. I will plant it in his brain that these few days of spending time together has brought back old memories we shared and that I realised now how much I care for you.”
The idea has been playing around in my mind, but hearing those words out of his mouth has my stomach doing flips. I hold my breath waiting for him to respond.
He smiles again, intertwining his fingers on the table between us. I give him a pointed look before I reach out for his hand again. “You know, Princess, if there is one last thing I can be honest about, it’s telling you that before your mother took you away and out of my life forever, your father had told me that one day, Rico would be the man you would marry.”
“He what?” My voice rises slightly. This must have been something I had forgotten before my mother took me away.
“He told me that when you were of age, he had promised you to Rico and, whether you wanted to or not, you would become his wife, but that was while he was a part of Murwood. Now that he is with Blackmere, Sal doesn’t want you anywhere near him.” He looks worried about spilling that, but he did tell me he will always be honest with me.
“Well then, let’s give my father something completely different. Let’s put the marriage proposal of you and me to him and watch as his brain slowly melts.” I smile at him, pulling out a small amount of cash from my wallet and leaving it on the table.
Mason pulls a fifty out of his wallet and sits in on mine. “Just leaving it as a tip for our waitress,” he says and walks out to the car. “Come on, Princess, we’ve got work to do.”
What in the world am I getting myself into? The killing of my father is one thing, but using a fake marriage as a way to get closer is another. As I watch Mason climb into the driver’s seat of his Mustang, I can’t help but think that I want this fake marriage to be a real one.