Old Money Roulette: Complete Trilogy Read online

  “These are the men who thought they’d try and find your ledger and use it against you,” Diablo explained.

  I nodded and turned to my cousin. “Sergio set the camera up. I want this recorded and leaked––a message to anyone who gets the same idea these fucks did.”

  I glanced around the room, my gaze landing on a lime green chainsaw.

  “Trying something new?”

  “Thought I’d switch it up,” Diablo replied with a big goofy grin.

  “By all means.” I approved.

  “You may want to move. This will be messy,” the other hitman advised.

  “Yes , these are good shoes,” I mused, looking down at my Mantellasis. I heeded his advice and moved to the far side of the room with Elias.

  Diablo grabbed his chainsaw and approached the hooded men. One was praying beneath his breath.

  “Ready?”he asked Sergio.

  My cousin gave a thumb up and then quickly scampered out of the line of fire.

  Diablo pulled the cord, once, twice, and the room filled with the loud roar of the tools motor. He went for the man on the left first. The blade caught and churned its way through his flesh. Diablo’s arms tensed from the effort of keeping the chainsaw in place.

  Blood from the man’s neck spurted everywhere as his arteries were savagely split apart. The man’s body convulsed so violently I thought he’d break through the restraints.

  His chair took its tumble to the floor, taking his head with it, the chainsaw taking an errant sharp descent into the next man’s arm, slicing brutally through the shoulder and wholly removing the limb. He began screaming in agony, blood flowed like a river to the stone floor below.

  Diablo stepped back and cut the chainsaw off. The next hitman took his place and finished the man off with a machete through his head.

  The room seemed too silent after that. The bodies both convulsed and twitched making a slight slapping sound in the puddles of blood.

  “Well, that was just fucking beautiful,” I clapped twice. “We must add that to your regime,” I told a bloody Diablo.

  “Yes, boss.” He may have grinned. It was really hard to see his mouth beneath the bloodied facemask.

  I looked at Sergio, “Don’t leak it. Have a DVD delivered to the mailbox of every person who may know anything about this ledger. Let their fear spread the news not to fuck with us.”

  “And Joshua?”

  “Bring me him and track down the man responsible for finding what I want, bring Joshua later on. I’m going to dinner tonight.”

  With final instructions given, I made my way out of the room.

  I checked the text from a close informant and smirked. I think I needed to go for a run.

  Chapter Eight

  It rained every night for a week straight.

  My tennis shoes resounded off the damp pavement with soft, steady thuds.

  Eminem and Ed Sheeran were my tune gods of choice as I jogged along the sequestered nature trail in an attempt to clear my head and relieve the restless energy that seemed to be mounting by the day.

  Between the few seconds gap that took place when one song ended and another began, I heard an additional set of footfalls coming from the opposite direction.

  Unable to see around the bend up ahead, and feeling paranoid because the sun hadn’t fully risen yet, I hit pause on my phone’s menu button and popped out my wireless ear-buds.

  By how heavy the footsteps were, I guessed the other jogger to be male. I was proven correct when he finally came into view. I hadn’t seen him since he’d fucked me in the diner bathroom.

  My stomach was immediately inundated with fluttering. I moved to the side and kept my gaze downcast like I had no idea who he was. From the day we met, a small region of my brain had planted a flag for Mateo Remmington and refused to uproot it, regardless of how many times I’d tried to douse it in flames. That same part of my brain was slowly expanding with intense idealizations and an iron-clad fixation.

  He had to have parked on the other side of the trails because there were no cars around when I arrived.

  I inhaled and exhaled with steady and forced calmness, trying to regulate my breathing.

  As he slowed and finally stopped just a few feet in front of me, I did my best not to ogle every golden peak and valley framing a well-defined ab. But I was only human–––a warm-blooded woman at that. I hadn’t gotten to see this much of him yet.

  He was completely dressed down–wearing black sweatpants that slightly hung off his hips and black tennis shoes. He had a white wife-beater looped around his neck. His well-toned chest was smooth and bare of hair. The golden color of his skin was a stark contrast with a shaded tattoo of a money rose, pocket watch, and three playing cards wrapping around his left bicep and running the length of his forearm.

  A few stray locks of his dark hair had made their way onto his damp forehead.

  He was utter perfection. I couldn’t help myself when my eyes drifted down to the impossible to miss and very obvious bulge between his legs that I was newly acquainted with and craving more of by the day.

  “I’m glad to see you approve.”

  His smug voice had me snapping my attention back to his face. He stood with his hands perched on his hips and an antagonizing grin leveled at me.

  “A blind woman would approve,” I retorted.

  “I don’t know if that’s an insult or a compliment.” He didn’t stop smiling but his brows furrowed in question.

  “Mr. Remmington–––.”

  “Mateo,” he instantly corrected. “I don’t like when you call me that. I’m only Mr. Remmington to certain employees, and even then it reminds me too much of my father.”

  “Well, Mateo, it was a compliment. You know full well that I think you’re extremely attractive–––oh, my god.”

  I slightly shook my head and laughed at the look on his face. He was lapping this up like an alley cat with a deep appreciation for milk.

  “I got the bracelet. You really need to stop sending me things. I appreciate it, but it isn’t necessary.”

  He thumbed his lower lip, searching my face for something. “Your inability to simply accept something I give you is beginning to piss me off.”

  I withheld a sigh and diverted my gaze. We’d been talking every day for the past two weeks while he did whatever it was drug lords did. I finally understood how someone could fall in love over the internet. This was ten times more intense because Mateo was very real, and the things he said to me would make Cupid die of happiness and Sister Mary have a stroke.

  But sometimes, his need to have control of every situation––and me––would shine through. He was beginning to do this more and more lately. I knew just as I knew the sky was blue that I was close to seeing another side of him.

  Maybe I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. I knew it was there when we started whatever this was between us. His dark side wasn’t going to scare me away. I had my own that had yet to make an appearance. And I intended to keep it that way. How I felt for him aside, I needed him.

  “Have a good day,” I politely bid, not wanting to get into a real-life argument. I went to move past him and he cut me off.

  Unprepared for the sudden move I walked right into his sweaty chest, jumping back like I’d been burned, a glare on my face.

  “Why do you do that?” I shrilled.

  “Why do you keep running from me?”

  “I’m not running.”

  “Good, because if you were I would have to chase you. And I can assure you, I’m faster.”

  His voice held a promise I had no intention of having him make good on.

  I wiped off my forehead with a disgusted grimace and reached up to fix my ponytail, momentarily forgetting that all I had on was a black training bra and tight neon yellow yoga shorts.

  Mateo took full advantage of the open casting. His eyes appreciatively drifted down my body, only coming back up when I cleared my throat.

  “A blind man would app
rove,” he said, so smoothly I could almost believe he hadn’t just jacked my line as his own.

  “I want you to spend the night with me.”

  I wasn’t sure that was the best idea. I was doing my best to fight against the urge to lose myself in him as it was. I was at risk of becoming an addict. I’d never felt anything of this magnitude before.

  He made me feel like I was standing in the middle of the freeway, blinded by headlights.

  I glanced at my phone and pretended to alert myself of the time. “I need to–––.”

  “Look at me.”

  His sharp tone implored me to do as he said. When I looked into his eyes, he seemed pleased to have my full attention.

  “I’d offer to give you a ride back home but I already know you’d decline. So, I’ll settle for taking you out for dinner.”

  “I don’t want to go to dinner.”

  “Do you need me to text you my address, or would you prefer I send a car?”

  I sighed exaggeratedly. “I just said I’m not coming.”

  “Elena,” he purred in a low voice, stepping forward until we were almost touching, “with me, you’ll always be coming.”

  “Oh…Jesus,” I muttered, shifting my weight from the sudden rise of heat outside.

  My reaction had a smug smirk tilting up one corner of his mouth.

  “I’ll see you at seven.” He pressed a firm kiss to my lips, forcing my mouth open so he could slip his tongue inside. I kissed him back as if I had just been given a lifeline. He gripped my ass and pulled me against his sweaty body.

  A soft groan slipped out when he pressed his hard cock into my apex, and then he was gone with a “See you later.”

  He easily maneuvered around me and set off at a brisk jog in the opposite direction before I could object or edge in another word.

  I stared after him with a frown, wondering how he knew I’d gone jogging.

  “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to talk me out of this,” I cradled my cell between my ear and shoulder, lounging on my bed.

  “Do you know why I’m not going to talk you out of this? Because you have pep in your voice and you could use a distraction from thinking of Eva twenty-four hours a day. Peyton’s on it, and you know his genius ass will find something if there’s anything to be found,” Melody intoned.

  “He told me he wasn’t a nice guy,” I tossed out.

  They both made scoffing noises.

  “Doll, he was raised by one of the vilest, foulest men of this era. He’s in the transition stage of taking over a clandestine empire and heading an elite society. He has a hand in kidnapping, trafficking, and drugs. There is no legal system to run a crime world.

  “He’s had people kidnapped, tortured, decapitated, and then sent back individually to their families; of course, he isn’t a nice guy,” Peyton drawled.

  “Playing devil’s advocate, most elite men around here don’t fit the definition of a ‘nice guy’. I mean, my father isn’t passing out heads as Hanukah gifts, but he’s a dirty lawyer who definitely has blood on his hands. He loves me and Mum though, so,” Melody mused. “Your own dad was, she sighed, trailing off. “The stories about him.”

  “Mel’s right, your daddy was a cutthroat boss. And my dad hacks shit, I’m sure he’s gotten a family or two killed. All that depressing drama aside, I think you need to stop taking this so seriously. Let the man jackrabbit you into his mattress for the day,” Peyton said.

  They were both so Zen about everything. Thinking about it, most of the people that were deep in our world were, and I understood it as clear as day. These were our families. My own parents had done god knows what.

  It was hard to think of them as anything other than kind and loving when it came to me and my sister, but the truth of the matter was they were criminals. I wasn’t going to mention I’d been told plenty of times I was my mother’s daughter.

  I hung up with them after setting up a day for us all to meet. I called my sister’s phone next, listening to it ring. I still paid for the service. I couldn’t bring myself to cut it off.

  I had this miraculous hope that I’d find an answer to where she went every time I did this. The fact that it still rang meant it was being charged. Maybe she would answer, tell me she was sorry for being a selfish bitch, that she was sorry for leaving me. I just wanted to know she was okay.

  I knew that even if she were to return, our relationship wouldn’t suddenly be healed. I loved Eva and I wanted what was best for her, but this wasn’t a film where the past was suddenly forgotten and slates were wiped clean because of an emotional reunion.

  I couldn’t forgive her for bringing death to our doorstep. If running was her golden ticket to safety then so be it. I just needed to know she wasn’t lying in a ditch somewhere––or going hungry––or god forbid enduring what our Aunt Molly did.

  Feeling dejected, I made my way down the stairs to the dining room.

  My uncle and grandmother insisted on this family ritual of eating lunch together. I went along with it, figuring I could at least try to make an effort, for my grandmother’s benefit at least. She and I had spoken often enough after my father’s death. She’d always given me advice and had been, well, a grandma.

  Ten minutes later, I was scooting anti-pasti salad around on my plate, enjoying the afternoon silence that gave me time to think.

  My uncle sat across from me, reading the news on his tablet and drinking what could have been his eleventh or twelfth glass of wine.

  I’d picked up on his drinking habit very early on. My grandmother did the same, but with an actual newspaper, and minus the alcoholic issue. I peered at a small section of a story, and curled my lip in disgust.

  A family camping in an RV had been shot execution style in their sleep and then dragged outside to bake in the sun. A little boy and his mom found the bodies when walking their dog.

  Murder was such a natural occurrence around here it wasn’t shocking enough to have been the main story. Vice City was known for its thriving casinos, an infamous hot strip of nightlife– lavish penthouses, and oceanfront hotels. When Vice City lit up at night, it was in its darkest corners that people lost their lives. I’d recently read online that ninety-seven percent of murders here were never disclosed.

  I wasn’t sure how much truth that held but it seemed accurate.

  If a murder made the Local Tribune, it was a message being sent to someone directly from the criminal underground.

  It could be said Vice City had a bad crime problem but that couldn’t be further from the truth. If that were the case it wouldn’t be such a goldmine for commercial real estate.

  It had more of a: ‘you fucked with the wrong person problem’.

  Even I had to admit that with the highly cruel and often sadistic punishments doled out those responsible for making sure the tourists were safe went above and beyond.

  This was more than likely because if they didn’t, it would be their family left to rot in the sun––but that was beside the point.

  My sister loved it there.

  She loved it so much that she became blinded by its flashing lights, and just like dozens of other pretty girls who went there to have a good time, she lost herself.

  She fell in love with little white lines that made her feel like she could fly. She’d been fully immersed in the underbelly of a clandestine empire I had yet to breach the entrance of. I had no desire to, but it was looking like my only option to finding answers. The only reason I hadn’t yet was because I’d wanted it to be my last resort.

  Obtaining a relationship with said empires kingpin was a legitimate stall tactic but for how long? The only bonus was the man himself. Mateo was something different and that made him special to my heart.

  “He wants to have dinner with you,” my uncle offhandedly stated, pulling me from my inner ramblings. Looking directly at me, he sat his glass to the side.

  “I know,” I simply said.

  “Mateo Remmington,” he confirmed that we were talk
ing about the same man, saying his name like it put a sour taste in his mouth.

  “He sent a card with those.”He nodded his head towards the large flower arrangement sitting on the side table across the room.

  I studied the full bouquet of beautiful, blushing pink peonies and white roses and smiled. He was always sending things. It started with diamonds. Then, it was exclusive access to his clubs and restaurants after I’d been denied entry to one. “And you took it upon yourself to read my card?”

  He looked at me long and hard, hearing the ire in my tone crystal clear.

  We stared at one another with a frigidness my grandmother could feel across the table. They knew I wasn’t telling them everything, but I didn’t like their motives. They weren’t the same as mine. I didn’t tell them about the bathroom episode, but they were up when I waltzed back in and didn’t give an explanation.

  “A man’s heavy hand would have done you good. Your disrespect will be the nail in the empty coffin.”

  He stood from the table and glared at me.

  His choice of words was a deliberate painful blow, but I knew better than to show him how much they hurt.

  “I’d love to meet a man with balls big enough to try, because the second that happens, he will no longer have any. Now I remember why mama didn’t like you. You’re a real fucking asshole,” I glacially retorted, keeping a cool demeanor.

  I was positive by the look on his face he’d never been spoken to like this before. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he keeled over and had a stroke.

  He was probably more shocked that I didn’t have a tongue of cultured etiquette. “Samuel, that was uncalled for,” my grandmother chastised.

  “There you go defending her again.” His mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. The smell of something stronger than wine reached my nose. He was drunk.

  “For the record, Mateo likes his women subservient. You’re nothing but a little girl trying to involve yourself in a game you will lose for all of us.”

  He shoved away from the table, looking down at me like I was a piece of shit smeared into the carpet before leaving the room.