Chapter Six
James sat in the security booth rewatching the footage of the garage shooting. The figure wore all black and had used a balaclava, making it impossible to identify any features. In fact, the only thing he could determine was the shooter was indeed a man from the build and the way he walked.
He glanced down when his cell phone rang, and he saw it was his assistant. “Yes?”
“Boss, we got him. Traced his movements through surveillance feeds.”
Satisfaction filled him. “Where is he?”
“Waiting for you in your warehouse at the dock.”
“Thank you, Jason. Reschedule any meetings. I’ll be indisposed this afternoon.”
He ended the call and left the booth behind.
It didn’t take all that long to get to the docks of Kaneera City.
The Roarkes had been exclusively in the shipping trade, but he preferred the corporate scene rather than headache of the supply chain.
While he transitioned the Roarke business acumen, David took care of their import and export side of things.
His men were stationed both inside and outside. He nodded at them as he entered, immediately noticing a man tied to a chair. He was younger than what James had imagined, with short dark hair and the narrowed gaze of a marksman.
“You missed me, and that’s gotta be embarrassing in your line of work,” James said. A jab, rather than stating a fact. “Who hired you to kill me?”
The man said nothing.
James liked when they said nothing. Glancing over the man’s head, he gave a come here motion with his hand. Immediately, a table was brought over as well as a large toolbox. Before he got ready to have some fun, he pulled out his cell phone and began recording.
“This is the part I like,” he told the mute man. Opening the kit, he took out a variety of items that were definitely not tools. “I might have a sadistic streak.”
He picked up an ice cream pick and tested the sharpened tip.
“Let’s start vanilla and work our way up if needed.”
Placing the tip on the man’s thigh, he slowly pushed through the heavy material of his pants, into the muscle. The only expression that showed on his prisoner’s face was a grimace.
“Who hired you?”
He remained tightlipped.
“Okay,” James said, picking up another ice pick. This time he inserted it into the other leg. The man let out a grunt. “All you have to do is give me a name and this ends.”
Still, nothing.
“Tight-lipped, I see. Let’s advance to the next round, shall we?”
The next instrument he picked up was wire cutters.
“I like this one, but you probably won’t.”
Slowly, methodically, he snipped off one ear. Humming as the man started screaming with each precise cut, cleaving the cartilage from his head. Once one ear was off, James walked around to the other.
“Stop!” the man cried. “Please, stop. Oh, God. Oh, fuck. This hurts.”
James stood poised to make another cut. “Who sent you?”
“F-Franklin Sessions.”
Not the name he expected, but at least he found the culprit. He turned off the recording and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Then he withdrew his Glock from his shoulder holster and lined up the man’s forehead with the gunsight. He shot once, and the hired hitman was dead.
“Get rid of him,” James instructed to his men as he slipped his weapon back into its holster. “I have a piece of shit to get off my shoe.”
****
James held the same glass of wine he started with an hour before.
He never drank at a gala, but he had to blend.
Holding the damn thing was annoying, but he made sure that didn’t show on his face.
He currently stood talking with several businessmen, and usually he could talk mergers and acquisitions all night long, but lately his attention kept wandering.
Kleya was on his mind all the damn time.
He glanced at the door every time it opened.
She was supposed to meet him, but failed to mention when that would be.
Thoughts of her inevitably led to the night when she burned like fire in his arms. So responsive.
So beautiful. He never thought he’d be eager to marry, but damned if he couldn’t wait until the nuptials happened.
He took a deep breath, willing his dick to stay down. The last thing he wanted was to give the men he talked to ideas he couldn’t control himself. Soon, his distraction was going to be observed, and as the future leader of the Coalition, he had to—
“Hello, James.”
He swiveled his head and Landry fucking Sessions stood in front of him, his bloated face an interesting shade of red, the clear signs of a heavy drinker prominent in the rounded nose and blood-shot eyes.
How people could think this man was worthy of leading the Coalition was a mystery. Next to him stood his asshole father.
“Landry. Franklin.”
“I hear congrats are in order. Kleya Dane, eh? You know she associates with street vermin, right?”
James knew he was trying to get a rise out of him. “Kleya is a compassionate woman.”
Landry snorted and took another drink. “She’ll come home and give you lice or something.”
James ground his back teeth together. All he wanted to do was pound his fist in the arrogant asshole’s face.
“Oh, and you can congratulate me as well. I’m engaged to Celeste Rogers. Her father owns Rogers Department Store, you know. Once I become the leader, we’ll bring her father into the Coalition. I think he’ll be a good addition.”
Yes, he knew Glanville Rogers very well. Had done business with him a few times. Luckily, the Rogers family would not face the same fate as the Sessions since they were not part of the Coalition.
“Perhaps, but you know what doesn’t make a good addition to the Coalition?” He stared directly at Franklin. “People who hire hitmen to take out the competition.”
Landry frowned and glanced between the two. “Uh. What?”
“And if that was to happen,” he continued, “what do you think would be the best way to eliminate such a sniveling coward? Killing him or locking him up in a place no one would ever find him? I kinda like that idea. What do you think, Franklin?”
Franklin couldn’t even maintain eye contact and looked away, coughing as he left the little tête-à-tête. James sneered at his retreat.
“What just happened?” Landry asked, looking really confused.
“Your dad is a piece of shit, that’s what happened.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted a woman in a white dress and turned, immediately dismissing Landry.
Kleya stood poised in the entrance way. Her silky hair was in an elegant updo.
A luminescent pearl necklace was her only jewelry.
She already looked like his bride, and his breath caught in his throat as he took in how ravishing she looked.
“Darling, I’m so happy to see you.”
Before he registered what was happening, arms enveloped him and big breasts barely contained in a dress pushed up against his chest. A voluptuous red head batted her extremely long fake lashes while a suffocating cloud of perfume stole his breath in a horrible way.
“James, how dare you,” Landry mocked. A smirk creased his mouth. “And in front of your fiancée.”
Fucking hell, he thought.
He broke the woman’s claw-like grip and stepped back. A soft hand enveloped his and he looked down into Kleya’s smiling eyes.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
He raised her hand up and kissed her knuckles. “Actually, you’re right on time.”
Kleya looked at the other two, and he saw that Landry’s face reflected sheer annoyance.
“Mr. Sessions,” she greeted graciously. “And ... Mrs. Sessions?”
“What?” the woman screeched. “I’m not married to him. I was greeting my lover. He asked me to come tonight.”
“Did he?” She looked up at him. Deviltry lit up their cerulean depths. “Well, you better go find him before some other woman steals him away. If you don’t mind, James, would you escort me to the bar?”
“My pleasure.”
He didn’t even bother saying good-bye to the bitch and the asshole.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” he replied. “I don’t know who she is, but I suspect it was Landry’s doing. Trying to paint me as an adulterer even before I put a second ring on it.”
“This is quite pretty.” She held up her left hand, admiring the engagement ring. “But if the Coalition thought you were cheating on me, they would believe you’d cheat on anyone, even them.”
“Exactly,” he muttered. “You arrived in the nick of time to defend my honor.”
Kleya chuckled. “Have you rubbed enough elbows?”
He placed the wine glass down on the bar. “I think so. See, I was completely distracted by watching the door all evening for a certain beautiful woman to appear, who happens to be my fiancée, that I can’t tell you any conversation I supposedly had.”
“So, did all that non-verbal communication make you hungry, Mr. Roarke?”
His brow creased. “You want to take me out to dinner?”
She leaned in close to whisper, “Can I tempt you into a walk on the wrong side of the tracks?”
He cocked his head. His fiancée was turning out to be a little minx.
****
Dressed in their finest, with jewelry and accessories probably worth more than the entire building, Kleya held his hand as she dragged him into a diner on the south side of town.
When they stepped inside, every patron turned to stare at them.
An older woman with hair up in a fishnet and glasses perched on her nose, stepped through the swinging saloon doors that no doubt led to the kitchen area.
She took one look at them, and a wide smile emerged.
“Kleya, my dear!” she called out. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been busy getting engaged.”
The woman’s glance shifted to him. “Is this him?”
“Yes, ma’am. James, this is Odette. Odette, my fiancé, James.”
“Well, he’s certainly a looker,” Odette said, winking at him. “Go on, grab a place to sit. I’ll be over in a moment.”
Kleya dragged him over to a back booth and they sat, him with his back to the wall so he could keep an eye out for any danger.
“The hamburgers are amazing here,” she reported, handing him a plastic menu that stuck to the chipped Formica tabletop. “But my favorite is the pot roast. Melts in your mouth.”
“You recommend that?”
“Yep.”
“Then I’ll take that.”
Odette came over with two glasses of water and set them down. “What can I get you two?”
“Two pot roast dinners and iced tea, please,” Kleya ordered with a huge grin on her face.
“Coming right up.”
Odette winked as she sauntered away.
“I think she puts crack in her iced tea, it’s that good.
” She sat back. “I thought we could talk about the wedding. My mother is trying for this elaborate shindig, with three hundred guests, six bridesmaids, and a train that extends out the church door.” She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry, I put a kibosh on those ideas.
I don’t even know six women who could be my bridesmaids, let alone three hundred people to invite.
Figured you wouldn’t want something elaborate and fancy anyway. ”
“You would figure correctly.”
“Good. That’s what I thought you’d say. So, just immediate family with a justice of the peace, set up in your high-rise. After, I thought we could provide finger foods which would make people leave early because of hunger pains.”
“That is an excellent idea, but I thought it was every woman’s dream to have a big wedding, with an elaborate wedding dress.”
“Spending thousands of dollars on something I’d wear once has no appeal for me. Not when that money can help multiple families in need.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say,” he said, using her own phrasing. “So, in that regard, I had my assistant cut a donation to Lark’s kitchen in the amount we would’ve spent on a big, fancy wedding.”
She blinked, looking shellshocked. “Really? That’s wonderful. Oh, my God, thank you so much.”
He cocked his head, studying her. “Why are you so different from all the other women who grew up rich? Why do you champion those less fortunate?”
“When I was about ten or eleven, my parents and I went on vacation,” she started.
“We went to the ocean. I loved running up and down in the shallow surf, collecting seashells. There was a pier and I ran under it, playing, not paying attention. I heard someone coughing and I looked over and saw this homeless man, living there. It was very clear that he was sick. And the more I watched him, the more questions I had. I’d never seen someone without a home, and I couldn’t wrap my little girl brain around a concept that a person didn’t have a place to go.
Or family. Or money. Every day on that trip, I went and watched him.
Then a day before we left, I saw an ambulance crew bring him out in a body bag.
That man died because no one cared. I felt so guilty for having everything while there were people in the world starving to death. ”
“That’s a heavy burden for a child to bear.”
“It changed my life,” she said quietly. “From that day on, I knew that I wanted to help people, I just didn’t know how. Then, I met Lark in college, and she shared her idea of her kitchen, and I told her I wanted in. So, that’s my story in a nutshell.”
Just then, Odette came over carrying two plates. She set them down and held up a finger to grab the iced tea.
“I’ll be back to check on you two lovebirds.”
James stared down at his plate in surprise. “This smells delicious.”
“Odette used to work as a chef in the city, feeding the elite.” Kleya picked up her knife and fork, to cut into the tender meat. “She got disillusioned quickly, so made a career change.”
He took a bite, and the food just melted in his mouth. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“Yep, that’s Odette for you.”
The rest of the meal was spent talking to each other while devouring the pot roast, and honestly, he’d never had a more enjoyable meal. After, he helped her into the back of his car and told the driver her address.
“Thank you for this evening,” she said. “Best gala ever.”
“You were there for two seconds.”
“And?” she chuckled. “Seriously, I hope I didn’t take you away from any important business.”
“Nah. Not anything I can’t reschedule.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Would you like to attend the theater with me tomorrow?”
She smiled at him. “I would love to.”