AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The club’s purpose was two-fold. We’d give the high-flying denizens of the Seattle underworld a place to relax and enjoy themselves without risking a knife in the back, while also securing my place at the top of the food chain. As with Greyson’s nickname for me, I’d earned my place as the city’s queen, and Gilded would be my crown jewel. If we could get it done in time.
My pacing continued, each footstep ramping up my anxiety.
Grey set down his tablet, reeling me into his chest when I got close enough to grab. I allowed it because we were alone, and I desperately needed the comfort of his touch. He was the only one who got to see the unpoised, anxious side of me. To everyone else, I was Marianna Marcosa, queen of the Marcosa empire. I was ruthless and cunning and strategic. Smart and beautiful. Deadly. I had no other choice. But with Grey, I was just me.
As usual, the moment I was wrapped in his arms, the world faded a little. His arms provided safety. Support and respect. Love in spades.
Three decades of friendship and I still got tingles when Greyson touched me, even though it was never more than a friendly hug. A press of lips on my forehead and a graze of his fingers against mine. Despite our lifelong connection, we’d never taken it further. I’d learned at my father’s knee that women in our lifestyle had to make sacrifices, love being the most common. You’d think that being queen would give me more freedom, but it was the opposite. It was even more likely that in order to keep the peace, I’d eventually have to marry someone else. When I did, Grey would be free to find his own partner.
I knew that having Grey and losing him for another because of my duty would be harder than not having him at all, so I kept things platonic. I had a feeling he did it for the same reasons, but we never spoke of it. It was our own personal elephant in the room. I’d accepted our fate years ago, but on days when he felt like the beginning and end of my universe, I found it hard to remember why.
Grey pulled me tighter against him like he could feel the turn of my thoughts, his lips whisper-soft on my hair. “Everything will be fine, Mari. Security is already on-site. Staff background checks ran long, but now that they’ve cleared, the bartenders are working doubles to learn what they need to know. Same with the servers. The painters will finish tonight, and the bar top and flooring go in on Tuesday, so we can put the booths in Wednesday morning. Nothing will be scratched or broken, and everything will be ready early so you can take another walk-through before Friday’s party.”
He pressed a kiss to my temple, there and gone before I could even blink. “I promise, I have it all taken care of.”
Hearing him list everything calmed me more than anything else could. If anyone had my trust, it was Grey.
“I know you do.” Carefully, I stepped out of his hold and stood next to the bar, surveying the room.
With the initial flickers of panic gone, I took a chance to really look at the room. The design wasn’t ready, so I focused on the potential. I could see the big booths along the walls, the singers onstage crooning over the low rumble of the crowd. I could hear the whispers of treaties and deals, and underneath it all, I could feel the hope.
We’d taken an abandoned mall, which had included a small bookstore, a gym, and a spa, and turned it into a hideaway for the powerful and those who wanted a walk on the dark side. Once the club was done and the room was filled with noise and people, it would look amazing.
Grey stepped next to me, the tip of his lips the closest thing to a smile he’d reveal while working. “It’s beautiful, reina. You did a good job.”
I sighed. “Tell me again on opening night, and keep me updated on the progress.”
I tapped my deep red nails on the makeshift bar top and frowned. I wanted to see the custom-made wood-and-resin top I’d commissioned from one of the city’s artists, not plywood. Annoyed all over again, I pushed away. “Let’s get out of here before I get stabby.”
Grey chuckled under his breath and steered us toward the door with a hand on my back, only for it to slam open just before we reached it. In a heartbeat, we both had guns in hand. I had no doubt that his was pointed steadily at the intruders, but I couldn’t see. The second a threat arose, he shoved himself in front of me like a human shield.
Memories of another man doing the same pressed against my eyes, trying to force themselves into the present, but I shoved them away. I had no time to fall apart. Besides, I preferred if the memories stuck to haunting my nightmares.
Greyson’s arms relaxed just enough for me to know he didn’t view whoever was in front of him as a major threat, but for my self-appointed bodyguard, everyone was a danger to me. After the assassination attempt two weeks ago, he’d been glued to my hip. Not that I could blame him, even if I was going a little stir-crazy.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“We found Zander for the boss.” The low rumble coming from Tennessee, one of my enforcers, was nearly music to my ears. I poked Grey in the back, but he still didn’t move.
“He’s still in one piece,” he noted, head tilted.
Someone else grunted, and I assumed it was Moore, Tennessee’s partner in crime and life. “We caught him off guard. One hit and he was down.”
Curious, I stepped out from behind Grey, who frowned at me, and took in the unconscious man drooped between their holds.
Zander Mason was a mid-level nobody in the city’s underground, a mouse who always had his ear to the ground. He generally gave good intel, but he’d been suspiciously absent when I called for him after the attack. We’d checked every hidey-hole he had, with nothing to show for it. It had taken my men ten days to find the little sneak, and now we would find out why.
Good thing we retrofitted the basement.
I smiled at the men, the mess of the day already forgotten at the promise of information and retribution. “Let’s take this downstairs.”
Chapter Two
Mari
Though the club was neutral territory, I knew we’d have business to deal with on the property, so I’d made the renovation plans with that in mind. We had offices upstairs for official visits from other family heads and the law, with smaller rec rooms on the main floor for more casual meetings with rivals or clients. But the real work went down in the basement.
Protected by biometric scanners, a twenty-four-seven video feed, and a dedicated armed guard at all times, Gilded’s lowest level was where the criminal part of the business came to play. Half the basement was set up for money laundering and securing client packages smuggled through the ports we controlled. The other half contained a row of holding cells. We’d remodeled the locker rooms of the old gym and created a soundproof freezer that doubled as an interrogation room. It even had a separate HVAC system to hide the smell of blood if we got searched by the Feds.
