Reign (The Syndicate: Crime and Passion Book 2) (11 page)

D
aniela

W
hen Sergei finally came home
, I didn’t pounce on him and begin asking questions as I wanted to.

Instead, holding on to a calm and focus I was surprised I could muster, I waited for him, listening as he ran upstairs, turned on the shower, and then, about twenty minutes later, came back down.

He looked like himself, his water-darkened hair beckoning my fingers, his body doing the same, and when I watched him, my heart and body came alive.

My reaction said everything about me that there was to be said. He’d probably taken a life today, not his first, and I didn’t care.

Maybe I was defective, maybe I had spent so many years seeking the love of a man like him I had no sense of right or wrong. Maybe I was so profoundly damaged that I was beyond hope.

In the past, I’d liked to think of myself as different, pretend that I wasn’t like them.

And I wasn’t like them.

I was worse. Complicit. Content to profit, enjoy a good life—find love at the expense of others like Davey—still sleep at night. I tried to do good, make up for it, but I wasn’t convinced I did. Still, I’d try. And I’d make sure Rita was taken care of. It was the least I could do.

“Heavy thoughts?” he said, as he came to me and put his arms around me.

I almost sighed with relief, but instead I said, “I’m fine. What made you ask that?”

His dark eyes hardened, and his arms tightened around me. “You’re not fine, Daniela. Far from it. What’s going on in that head of yours?” he said, watching me, eyes boring into mine as if he was searching for all of my secrets.

I broke his gaze, tried to move from his arms, but he didn’t budge. I didn’t struggle, knowing a lost battle when I saw one, but I didn’t relent either. “I’m not sure what you mean, Sergei.”

He pulled me closer. “Look at me,” he said.

I responded without thought, met those intense eyes again.

“You think you hide it so well, don’t you?” he said. The impulse to look away again was strong, but I ignored it, kept my gaze on his. “Your whole life you’ve worked so hard at convincing them. Or maybe they just didn’t see it. But I see,” he said.

“Sergei, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, putting a sternness in my voice I didn’t feel.

In fact, I felt the opposite. I felt fragile, like maybe I would shatter if he let me go. Exposed at the thought of someone seeing me.

“You barely looked at me when I came in,” he said.

I shrugged as best I could in his arms, going for nonchalance if sternness wasn’t going to work. “So what?”

He pulled me closer still. “Daniela, I felt it the instant I walked in. You’re aware of me just like I am of you. That feeling wasn’t any different today, but trying to ignore me was. You didn’t let your eyes rest on me for more than a second.”

This close to him, being in his arms was intoxicating, but I couldn’t give credence to what he was saying. Couldn’t accept it.

“You’re just being cocky,” I said.

“No. And you’re trying to change the subject. It won’t work. I see you,” he said, mirroring my thoughts from just moments ago.

Then he leaned forward, softly kissed the space between my brows, the one I hadn’t even realized was bunched tight. He kissed again, smoothing his lips along the ridge until my face relaxed.

“I see that, the little frown you haven’t quite managed to control yet.”

He moved lower, teased at the corner of my lips with his.

“There’s a little downturn there, not a frown, but not neutral either. A little weight in your expression.”

He continued to kiss at the corner of my lips, not deepening it but simply playing with the skin. He moved lower, brushed his lips against my neck, smoothed along my shoulder.

“And this, the way you hold yourself tight, like you’re worried about falling apart,” he said, hitting on the very thought that had only just crossed my mind.

He went quiet then and again he stroked his lips on my shoulder. He lingered there for a moment, his lips warm, soft against my skin, breaking down what little of my resolve remained after he had spoken those words.

Then he broke away abruptly, locked eyes with mine again.

“So what’s bothering you?” he asked.

I looked at his eyes, saw that there would be no dodging him.

“I heard about Davey,” I whispered.

He didn’t respond verbally and his body gave no indication that the statement I made was of any significance, but somehow I knew. “What did you hear?”

“I heard he will never be going home again,” I said, knowing that things couldn’t have ended up any other way, but still sad for his loss, what it might mean to Rita.

That got a slight reaction out of him, a scowl that he managed to cover quickly.

“And where did you hear this?” he said.

“People talk,” I said.

“They shouldn’t,” he replied.

There was a wealth of malice in those two simple words, and I felt a moment’s trepidation. I shouldn’t have said anything. But, I still had a role to play, a job to do.

“They probably shouldn’t, but they do, and they’re usually right. If they say Davey won’t be going home, he won’t be,” I said.

I’d decided I would continue on. There was no doubt Sergei knew what I knew.

“And you think I played a part?” he asked.

I said nothing, but my chest tugged at the dark look that crossed his face, though I couldn’t say what the feeling meant.

“And that disgusts you?” he said.

“Should I be honest?” I asked.

His stare intensified. “Always. I expect no less.”

“Even if it’s something you don’t want to hear?” I pressed.

His eyes flashed anger. “Daniela, I’m not your father or the idiots who were content to work for him. If you have something to say, say it. If not, don’t waste my time.”

“I know you’re not. It’s just…”

I trailed off then looked away, though I could still see him from the corner of my eye. I exhaled, met his eyes again.

“I’m not disgusted,” I said, knowing that I probably should be. Knowing even more that I wasn’t.

Something like relief flashed through his eyes, though he quickly covered it. “So what’s on your mind?” he said.

So much that I didn’t know where to begin. He firmed his lips and I began speaking hurriedly. “Davey wasn’t so good with finances,” I said.

He snorted out a laugh, one that lacked the humor I had come to associate with him. “So?” he said.

“He had a wife. Responsibilities. If it’s true that he’s not going to be back,” I said, “then someone should make sure she’s looked after.”

“And what does that mean, Daniela? ‘Looked after’?” he said, practically spitting the words at me, trying to drive me off the topic with the fire in his eyes.

But I stood firm. It was the right thing to do, if there was such a thing in this fucked-up universe I called mine. “It’s the way these things are done. His family shouldn’t suffer for Davey’s mistakes,” I said.

“Oh. You want to be fair?” he said, his expression darkening.

“Is that so wrong?”

“Yes. It is. Because ‘fair’ doesn’t exist. There’s no such thing as fairness, my sweet Daniela. I would have thought Santo had taught you that,” he said.

I sat a little straighter, my heart beginning to pound, my stomach twisting. “You don’t know what Santo taught me. What he didn’t.”

He softened his expression the tiniest bit, and some of my defensiveness went away. “Daniela,” he said, reaching out to touch me. He cupped my cheek and I leaned into his hand.

I looked into his eyes.

“I know that you care, but this isn’t for you to worry about,” he said.

The protest started to bubble up but I blinked, pushed it down. I nodded and he moved forward to kiss me, brushing his lips against mine before he let me go. I relented, not wanting to push him, but still uncertain about what Davey’s death meant.

I went upstairs and got into bed, and only minutes later he joined me. Sergei curled his body behind mine, his strength and warmth making me sigh. I snuggled into his arms, pressing my back against his hard abdomen, his cock nestled between my thighs.

How was it possible that even after that conversation, the tension that had been there only minutes ago, I could still want him as much as I did?

But I did want him, and I wanted him to know that.

Still lying on my side, I reached for his hand, the rough skin making me shiver. I entwined my fingers with his, but then pulled our hands between my legs. He touched me eagerly, used two fingers to explore every inch of my soaking sex.

My body was alive with pleasure, and when he kissed me softly on the neck, the soft caress so sweet, so warm, I almost shattered.

Sergei brought our bodies together, his cock filling me as no one else ever could or would, and in that moment I knew I was forever gone for this man.

S
ergei

T
he next morning
, the desire to linger next to Daniela was there as it always was, but I resisted it.

I should have resisted last night, but I’d been powerless against the physical desire for her, even as my mind had roiled.

She’d told me a lot, told me how she wasn’t disgusted by me. That made me happier than I could have expressed, but it wasn’t the whole story.

If it had been, things would have been close to perfect.

They were anything but.

Because while Daniela had given me comfort, security in our growing bond, she’d also revealed the depth of her involvement in Santo’s business. Someone had told her of Davey’s death. Perhaps understandable; gossip ran rampant in most organizations, so it wasn’t entirely a surprise that the news had made its way to her.

But her reaction…it was unacceptable.

She’d wanted to be involved, wanted to personally see that Davey’s family was taken care of. That left me torn, in awe of her kindness, yet unable to accept she was so aware, making me wonder what else she knew.

I rolled to a stop in front of Maxim’s house.

“Do I need an appointment?” I said sarcastically, looking at Marcos, who stood in the same position I’d always seen him in.

He said nothing but waved me through, and I drove forward, quickly parked, and made my way to the front door. I knocked, and moments later, Senna opened the door.

“He’s in his office,” she said after taking one look at me.

I followed behind her, watched as she lifted Luka from Maxim’s arms, and left without saying anything.

Her reaction was telling. I always greeted Senna warmly, but I’d been too distracted to do so today.

“Trouble?” Maxim said as soon as she’d closed the door.

“I can’t fucking believe this!” I said, pacing the office floor, unable to stand still.

“Sergei,” Maxim said.

I stopped to look at him, saw nothing in his expression, but knew that I needed to calm down.

“She knows about the business,” I said flatly.

“Of course she does. What of it?” Maxim asked.

“No. You don’t understand. She knows. Someone told her about Santo’s man. She tried to keep it from me, but she knows,” I said. I was bothered that she knew, and I was bothered by the fact that she wanted to keep that knowledge away from me, and I suspected her trying to keep something from me was the more important of those.

Maxim huffed. “No discipline at all. Make sure the person who told her never does so again,” he said.

I nodded. “That’s not the worst thing, Maxim.”

“What is?”

“She wanted me to see after his widow, see that she was taken care of,” I said. “And she’s done this before, Maxim.”

That was the thing that had me so on edge. Perhaps I could have assumed it was an isolated occurrence, that maybe she and Davey had had a closer relationship. That wasn’t the case though. Daniela had been too calm, too certain of what to do, and the thought of her being in that position, being involved in Santo’s business at all was something I couldn’t abide.

“That’s a reasonable conclusion,” he said.

“What the fuck does that mean, Maxim?”

“Santo,” Maxim said, his voice lowering ever so slightly, “is a vicious idiot. I was surprised he’d lasted as long as he had. Having someone like Daniela to soothe the feathers he ruffled likely went far in keeping the peace,” he said.

I shook my head, began pacing again. I hated to show this side of myself to Maxim, but there was no choice, not at this moment.

“Although,” Maxim said. I paused again to look at him.

“What?”

“She would have been a child when Santo first rose to power.” He furrowed his brow slightly. “I assume that means this was the mother’s job before.”

“Fuck,” I uttered, angry with myself for not having Maxim’s foresight. “She worshipped her mother. Probably stayed right at her fucking feet and learned everything.”

“Apparently,” he said.

“Why are you so calm? This is bullshit,” I said, shocked that Maxim was not reacting more strongly.

“Why is this bullshit?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Why?” I said, incredulously. “If I told you Senna was comforting widows, soothing ruffled feathers, how would you respond?”

Maxim, who’d sat only moments before stood slowly and leveled me with a stare. I knew what that look meant, but right now, I didn’t care.

“Careful, Sergei,” he said.

It was a warning he wouldn’t ordinarily give, one that I would appreciate when I got my head back on right. I started pacing again, ignoring Maxim’s gaze on me.

“Are you upset because she’s a woman? Women are just as capable as men. Probably more than,” he said.

There was nothing funny about the situation, but Maxim managed to get a laugh from me. “I never took you for a feminist.”

“But you know I’m an intelligent person, one who sees talent and potential. Apparently Santo’s sweet, innocent daughter is more than meets the eye,” he said.

“You sound so impressed,” I said, frowning. Perhaps it was impressive, but the fact that she was involved at all was more important than how she managed to handle it.

Maxim sat again. “It’s impressive. Adopted, a woman, Santo’s child. And even with all that against her, she’s made her path, managed to hold on to something like her humanity. Admirable,” he said.

He didn’t utter those words lightly.

In the whole of our relationship, which essentially spanned the length of my life, I had only rarely heard Maxim refer to someone as admirable. Yet he had bestowed that rare, almost unheard-of compliment on Daniela.

I was still so angry, I could hardly see straight, but I was proud too. She’d managed to get Maxim’s approval, something even I hadn’t managed. Daniela had struck me as capable, smart, from the very first, and she was proving how right that impression had been.

“However,” Maxim said, “as impressive as it is, this cannot continue.”

I lifted a brow. “What happened to equal rights and all that?” I said, able to relax some now that Maxim seemed to be seeing the source of my concern.

“I run the Syndicate. Daniela is not a part of it. I’ll make an exception once, but not again. Make sure she understands that,” he said.

“She will,” I said.

D
aniela

S
ergei had been gone
when I woke up, and though I missed him, I didn’t linger on that. I had things to do today.

I showered quickly, but it took me a long time, even longer than usual, to pick an outfit.

Davey’s body hadn’t been found, and I doubted it would be. Still, there was a delicate balance to strike, one that was respectful but not outright mourning.

I finally settled on a midcalf black skirt and black and white sweater. The outfit was borderline severe, almost perfunctory, but I thought it conveyed my sympathy without going over the top.

I also debated whether or not to make a casserole, but that seemed a little outrageous, so I simply grabbed a small duffel, my purse, and after a quick stop, I headed to my destination.

I’d done this before, more times than I wanted to remember, but this time felt different.

In fact, I hated it.

I shouldn’t be here; he wouldn’t want me to be. He’d be furious if—when—he found out. And I didn’t want to be here, either. I was exhausted, and for the first time in my life, cleaning up Santo’s messes, proving my use was not the most important thing to me.

I could be at home making love to Sergei or be spending time with Senna. But I wasn’t. Instead, I was doing my duty, devoting my energy to saving something that was already gone. The sad thing was I knew all this was futile. Even before last night’s conversation with Sergei I had known that I couldn’t continue as I had been.

Yet, I couldn’t stop myself.

So I drove on, watching as the trees got sparser, the vacant lots got more plentiful, and the dread in my stomach got increasingly heavy.

When I reached Davey and Rita’s house, I looked in the mirror for one last check.

I saw me.

Picture-perfect.

Broken.

I quickly shut the visor and then got out, small duffel in hand.

Rita was waiting at the door when I reached it. The woman had an air of sadness around her, but I couldn’t help but notice that she looked a little bit brighter, a little bit more alive.

How ironic.

“Daniela?” she asked, eyes wide with surprise.

“I was just hoping to drop by for a visit. If you’re busy…” I said.

She shook her head. “Please, come in.” She stepped aside and ushered me in. “Offer you something, but…”

“It’s unnecessary,” I said as I kept my gaze focused on her.

The place seemed bigger without Santo in it, but everyplace did.

“I—”

She cut me off before I could begin my speech. “Let me thank you,” she said.

I looked at her, confused. “Thank me for what?”

Rita looked downright embarrassed, and I thought I saw a blush. This was as animated as I’d ever seen her.

“I got your gift. Your very generous gift.”

“I… When?” I asked.

“It was waiting for me this morning. Thank you. And him,” she said.

I didn’t doubt which him she was referring to.

“What will you do?” I asked.

She sighed, and for the first time since I’d arrived, she looked sad. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything else but this life.”

I reached for her hand, squeezed it. “This is your chance to learn, Rita,” I said.

Rita squeezed back and then looked away. I dropped her hand, waited, watched her as she thought.

She nodded, and after a moment, I moved toward the door. “Good luck to you,” I said.

“Thank you, Daniela,” Rita said.

I returned to my car, the duffel still in my hand, my mind buzzing.

After last night, I thought I understood Sergei, understood who he was, what he was about. I’d been mistaken. Last night I’d assumed he had no care for Rita or where she would end up. But he had, and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that action was one he’d taken out of some affection for me.

I drove back to the house in a daze, and was not at all surprised when I found him waiting for me.

For a moment, I was paralyzed by guilt, but I swallowed it down, decided to ignore it. I was simply doing what I thought was right. He wouldn’t begrudge me for that, and if he did, that was his prerogative. I wouldn’t apologize.

Still, I meandered, took far longer than usual to make my way inside.

He waited for me, leaning against one wall of the foyer.

“Daniela,” he said.

“Sergei,” I whispered, suddenly feeling ever more nervous. Even though I had known he was here, being confronted with that unreadable, implacable expression on his face was something else.

“Put down your bag. Come to the garden,” he said.

Then he turned, strolled away without looking back.

I tried to focus on my anger, wondered what it meant that he expected me so readily to obey. But obey I did.

I dropped the duffel and walked through the familiar hallways and through to the backyard.

It was bright out, sunny, but there was no sunniness in Sergei’s expression.

“How was your morning?” he said.

“I think you know,” I said, deciding I would confront this head-on.

“I want you to tell me,” he said.

“I was visiting with an associate,” I replied.

“Rita?” he asked.

I nodded.

“What could you and Rita have to talk about? I thought that matter was settled yesterday?”

“I-I didn’t know that you had…”

“Had what, Daniela?” he said, moving closer.

“I didn’t know that you had taken care of her,” I said.

“So you thought you’d do it yourself?” he asked, his expression intense but his voice flat as he watched me.

“I just… It needed to be done,” I said quietly, my eyes on his.

He said nothing and I was starting to wilt under the intensity of his gaze, but I rallied. “He left her nothing. I was just going to—”

“How much did you get?” he asked.

“Two fifty. It’s not all I would’ve given her, but it was what I could get my hands on. Did you give her more?” I asked.

“So you were just going to give her this money that you managed to pull together?” he said.

I nodded.

“How long have you been doing this sort of thing, Daniela?” he asked, his brows furrowed now.

I shrugged.

“Answer,” he said, voice allowing no room for disobedience.

“A while now. After Mother died, it needed to be done,” I said, staring at him, imploring him with my eyes to understand.

“To protect Santo?” he asked, his voice twisting when he uttered my father’s name.

“Yes. And no,” I said on a whisper.

He narrowed his eyes and I continued. “Doing that, making sure families got a little of what they’d need to move on…after, helped it. Kept people, if not loyal, then at least believing in fairness,” I said.

“And?” He’d tilted his head down, practically glaring at me now, though I thought I saw some softness in his expression, but that could have simply been a wish.

“And it was the right thing to do,” I said, speaking with conviction that I actually felt.

“Why?” he said.

I moved toward him, the depth of my feelings on this topic making it impossible for me to stay still.

“The widows, the wives, they—we—make our choices, but that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve compassion, don’t deserve to be cared for if the worst happens. And yeah, that may have helped Santo, maybe not. But what it did do was make sure no kids would go hungry, that no wife with no means of support would be forced into a bad situation. It was the right thing. A minuscule act of good in this world that has so few,” I said.

When I finished, I stood toe-to-toe with him, my hands balled into tight fists. I realized after I’d stopped speaking that my voice had dropped, could feel the way my face had twisted as I spoke, my mind full of all of the faces I’d seen, the slight measure of relief that came from knowing that you wouldn’t be destitute. I was right to do it. I knew that to my core.