Poisoned Rose (Dark Roses #1)

BOOK: Poisoned Rose (Dark Roses #1)
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Poisoned Rose

A Novel of the Dark Roses

NATHALIE SAADE

Copyright © Nathalie Saade, 2016

Registered with the Australian Writers’ Guild

No: JB010537

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior writ
ten permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other n
on-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

First Edition 2016

14 13 12 11 10 / 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Thank you to:

My family, for supporting and believing in me.

My friends, who were both my guinea pigs and cheer squad.

You made this book possible.

Prologue

 

              Carlos tried to catch his breath as he ran through the black smoke.  He was pushing fifty, not in the best shape, and his lungs were filled with smoke, burning his chest from the inside.  He couldn’t see where he was going and the heat was scorching.

              Barreling into the heavy back door he stumbled out onto the back street, slamming his back against the wall and bending over, trying to suck in air.  He coughed and threw up all over his shoes.  He could hear the sirens in the distance and shook his head. The Mason Family owned the LAPD and they definitely weren’t on his side.  Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he turned and looked inside.

              Through the smoke, he could see his club going up in flames while Hannam soldiers were cutting down his men and leaving the bodies to burn.  The bottles of alcohol behind the bar were exploding from the heat and glass was shattering everywhere.  He could see Logan struggling with a beast of a man up against the bar before a knife went through his neck and his body went limp, a fountain of blood spurting out of his throat.  Logan’s body sagged against the bar, his eyes frozen in time and his knees buckling as the man gave the knife a final twist before yanking it out.

              He’d actually enjoyed that, Carlos realized. It was time to get the hell out of there.  But he was rooted to the spot and when the man spun around to get his next victim, Carlos recognized him as a Mason Captain.  It wasn’t just the Hannam Family storming his club, the Mason Family was there too.

              ‘Carlos!’

              Someone yelled out to him.  Amidst all the chaos and commotion, the burning bodies and vicious brawls, he saw a female soldier running straight for him.  He turned down the alley and tried to bolt, but he had waited too long.  She slammed him up against the wall and pressed a knife to his throat.  He struggled and gasped as the knife dug into his skin.  He could feel the viscous liquid seeping down his neck, the tell-tale metallic scent of his own blood assaulting his nostrils.

              ‘Don’t even think about it.’

              He felt his chest go cold and his heart threaten to rip through his chest.

              ‘Who are you?’

              She snarled and he recognized the similarities between her and her brothers.  Aurora pressed the point of the dagger deeper into his neck, drawing more blood.

              ‘The Grim fucking Reaper.’

             

One

 

              Aurora couldn’t wait to get to the shooting range.  One of her employees had opened that morning but there was a ton of paperwork she had to get to.  Ok, so she wasn’t excited about that, but her father had had a new shipment of weapons delivered the night before and she was hanging to check them out.  The road was all hers, so she slammed her foot on the accelerator and tore past the scenery, her sunglasses almost flying off her head.  She hollered out and waved as a truck went speeding in the opposite direction, the driver beeping to her as he whistled.  She was used to it, she got that a lot. Mike didn’t like it but she didn’t care.  Pulling into the entrance, she could see a few of her regular members pumping bullets into their targets.  Screw it, the paperwork could wait.  She parked and pushed open the office door, saying good morning and heading to the storeroom.

              She opened the first box and pulled out a custom made M16.  Running her hand down the long barrel gave her a warm feeling inside.  She let out an appreciate hum and put the rifle back, thinking once again that Eugene Stoner was a genius.  When she moved on to the second box, she whistled as she pulled out the latest Kalashnikov PKM Tank.  The model wasn’t in circulation yet.  She grabbed a string of bullets and shut the lid, taking the gun out through the back of the storeroom and heading towards the private range.  She’d expected it to be empty and that was how she found it.  She pulled her long brown hair into a ponytail and got into position, slowing her breathing as she prepared to shoot.  She was about to pull the trigger when her cell rang and she swore, lowering her weapon and reaching into her back pocket.  It was Mike and she flicked her cell to silent, tossing it facedown onto the grass.

              He was on his buck’s weekend, which she had been looking forward to even more than he had.  She was anxious about their fast approaching wedding, and not for positive reasons.  She wanted to break up with him.  Well, part of her did anyway.  At twenty two, they’d been friends for fourteen years, a couple for four and engaged for six months.  The proposal had been a surprise; they’d never discussed it even though they’d been together for so long.  One Saturday afternoon, Mike had picked her up from the shooting range, driven out to Venice Beach and dropped down on one knee right there on the sand.  Girls in bikinis had gushed and people had started clapping.  She had been in shock at the suddenness, but after a few moments she’d said yes, letting Mike slide the ring onto her finger before standing up and lifting her into a hug.

              But even after half a year, Mike still hadn’t told her what had made him decide to propose.  Their relationship had been comfortable and she hadn’t given much thought as to where they were headed.  She loved him… but she wasn’t in love with him.  Deep down she knew she was in love with the same person she had loved her whole life, but who had never loved her in return, and she was no longer willing to live her life around a pipe dream.  That was why she had said yes, and why she couldn’t bring herself to end it.

              The previous night, they had gone out with friends and returned to Mike’s place.  When he had stepped into the shower, she had taken the opportunity to ruffle through the top drawer of his bureau.  Ever since he’d proposed he’d been secretive and she knew he was hiding something.  But just as she was moving aside a notebook to see what was underneath, he had slipped in front of her and closed the drawer, laughing and pulling her towards the bathroom.  She had let him pull her away but she was determined to know what he was hiding because whatever it was, it was going to sway her decision one way or another.

              But she’d worry about that later.  At that moment, it was her, nature, and a machine gun.  She slowed her breathing again, then let a rip, each shot reverberating through her body.  When the bullets were all used she picked up her binoculars and checked out the tight circle around the bullseye.  Hell yeah, that was how it was done.  She wanted to use more rounds but knew her dad wouldn’t appreciate her digging into his stock so she gathered up the shells, threw them into the bin and slung the machine gun over her shoulder.  Once she’d packed the gun away, she walked into the office and looked out the window.  It was quiet for a weekend.  She checked her cell and found that Mike had sent her a text.  Walking over to her desk and pulling out the paperwork, she typed back a quick message that required no response.  Mike replied anyway and she ignored the text.  She had too much to do, but more than that, she needed space.  Why couldn’t he just enjoy his weekend away and leave her alone?

              She took a deep breath and opened the black books.  It was the laundering her father wanted her to finish, the legitimate stuff was easy.  Even though she wasn’t a soldier, she ran the shooting range her father had bought her and that meant part of her job was balancing transactions for the Family.  She didn’t mind, it let her know what stock she could expect to come in, which was one of the things in life she enjoyed most and that Mike would never understand.  Hunching over the paperwork, her cell vibrated, reminding her of her unread text and she shoved it into her handbag.  She couldn’t avoid her decision forever, but she could for the rest of the weekend.

Two

 

              ‘Move it ladies! If you don’t finish this course in the next half hour you’ll be doing it all over again!’

              Hawk yelled into his earpiece before he leapt forward and grabbed one of the thick ropes hanging off the fifteen foot wooden wall.  He used the muscles in his arms to pull himself to the top and over before he dropped to crawl on his elbows beneath the barbed wire.  Several of his men groaned as they heard his command, and he couldn’t help but grin as he picked up a hundred pound barbell, balanced it on his shoulders and trudged his way over to the other side of the river.  His soldiers were at the top of the fitness scale, and as one of their captains, it was his responsibility to make sure they stayed that way.  Every one of them was fit, fast, and according to general consensus, huge, mean assed S.O.Bs.  He finished the course first as usual with Ty, his second in command, joining him at the finish line minutes later.

              ‘Ten more minutes soldiers!’

              He slapped Ty on the back and told him to hit the showers, before ripping his earpiece out and shoving it into the pocket of his cargoes.  As the sun hit his back, he pulled off his khaki tee and tucked it into his waistband.  He then pulled out his aviators, slid them on and crossed his arms, waiting for the rest of his men to finish.

              One by one they stumbled across the finish line until there were three soldiers left.  He barked out the countdown as he watched them struggle out of the trees.  There were ten seconds to go when the last man reached the finish line and threw himself to the ground.  Hawk laughed and squeezed the man’s shoulder, congratulating him.  The soldier grinned and hauled himself to his feet, thanking Hawk for the praise, then half walking half stumbling towards the training center.  Hawk was about to follow when his phone rang.

              ‘Boss.’

              ‘Hawk, come to my office.’

              He took a breath to calm himself as he made his way up to the family mansion.  He always called his father ‘Boss’.  His mother had died when he was ten years old and his father had raised him and his sisters as assets used to serve his purpose.  He’d expressed no love or affection, molding them into killers whose reason for being was to further the Family.

              Twenty minutes later, Hawk reached the mansion’s front motor court.  He stalked up the endless white stone steps, the helipad one floor up and to his left, the outdoor pool one floor down and to his right.  The swimmer doing laps caught his eye and he shook his head.  Ty pushed himself just as hard as Hawk did, if not harder.  People told them they could pass for brothers, and it was true that they were built alike, but Ty’s hair was blond and fell into his eyes, while Hawk’s was black and barely long enough to curl at the nape of his neck.  But in his opinion, there was something else that set them apart, something at their very core that meant they would never be the same… Ty was a nice guy.

              He put his palm up to the scanner at the front door, then strode into the three storey entry hall.  It took him another five minutes to reach his father’s office, and that was only because he’d taken a short cut through the ballroom.  The door was open when he reached the office and he walked in to find Honor and Halo seated, with his father standing behind his oak desk.  Mario was flipping through paperwork and looked up when he walked in, scanning him from head to toe and back again, his face expressionless.

              ‘Nice of you to join us.’

              ‘I was training soldiers on the obstacle course.  Since it’s at the edge of the compound and I don’t have wings…’

              ‘You could’ve used one of the underground tunnels to get here.  Sit down.’

              He growled under his breath, feeling the ever present rage threaten to surface as he dropped down onto the couch next to Honor.  She was the other Mason Family Captain.  She wore a black midriff tank and he could see that she’d had her intricate blue rose tattoos retouched.  They ran down her left side and were her symbol of status.  It was why female soldiers were known as Roses.  As he took the seat beside his favorite sibling, she flicked her black hair over her shoulder and propped her right ankle onto her left knee.  From the other side of the room, Halo cleared her throat as she stepped away from the mirror on the wall.

              ‘So why are we here?’

              His father’s favorite child made a point of the fact that she was allowed to stand by smoothing non-existent wrinkles from her white suit and placing a hand on her hip.  She was the Family advisor, the smart yet cunning right hand to their brutal father.  He was surprised to see her blonde hair slicked back and tied high, showing the much resented blue rose tattoo behind her right ear.

              Mario tapped his Mont Blanc pen against his desk and leant back in his chair, his turquoise eyes drilling a hole into Hawk’s skull.  Hawk tilted his chin up and stared back, knowing how much his gaze unsettled his father and enjoying the chance to piss him off.  While the twins were identical, Halo’s eyes were an almost emerald green and Honor’s may as well have been lapis lazuli.  But he had one green eye and one blue eye, and for someone as obsessed with power, perfection and precision as Mario, he knew that his mismatched stare was a constant reminder that not everything could be controlled.

              ‘A group of young men unaffiliated with any Family are being stalked by people also unaffiliated with anyone.  I want you to put the word out to the soldiers to keep an eye out for both parties.  It looks like someone’s planning an unauthorized hit and I don’t want it to happen in any of our venues.’

              Having all the senior members of L.A law enforcement on their payroll, not to mention the governor and half the senators and judges, meant that their Family had the task of protecting other Families’ clubs and businesses.  For a price.

              ‘Consider it done.’

              It wasn’t that they didn’t have the resources to stop the possible hit, they just didn’t care.  What grabbed their attention was if a hit that hadn’t been condoned by any Family had the potential to affect business.  Once the meeting was over, Hawk was the first to leave, unwilling to stay in his father’s presence any longer.  But as he went, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror.  His eyes may have been his weapon against his father, but they were also the one thing in his life that caused him to feel insecure.  They were his reminder of the fact that no matter how hard he trained or how fierce his reputation grew, he would always be defective.

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