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“Men don’t lie when death is around the corner.”
“Did he say who? Whoever did it, he’s already dead,” he threatened, which only pissed me off.
“I’ll find out soon enough.” I clicked off the cell and sagged against the patio railing.
Storm’s cool body wrapped around my warm one as she placed a kiss on my back. “Why did you warn him we were coming back?”
“I want him to suffer. Right now, he’s trying to figure out what Brazino told me. He’s scared that I know the truth. He’s scared that I’ll kill him. He’s so fucking scared right now, and the only person on this Earth that Brocco is scared of is me.” It was true over the years, I’d grown stronger and fiercer. I’d never lost a fight or a gun battle. Betrayal anger is so much more potent than defensive fear.
“I’m asking you again. Are you sure Brocco did it? You and he were always so close.”
“He’s the only one who knew the weakness in my bullet proof window. I was supposed to get them replaced and never did. The shots had to hit at a certain angle to shatter. He never knew about the secret trap door to my basement, or he would have blown the whole house instead of focusing on my bedroom. My brother also said that we met every morning, and he didn’t out of respect for our wedding night. Except we never meet at my house on Friday mornings.”
I looked over my shoulder at her. “The three of them made plans to get rid of Brazino after we left. Whatever Xavier and Pierre told him, Brocco used to take them out. And on the phone, he didn’t seem fazed. When you called Pierre, he was clearly shaken, though he managed to state the facts. My brother seemed almost gleeful and certain. Certain that he was safe. How can you feel safe when your brother was ambushed and the other men you were just talking to the night before was also hit? You don’t.” I shouted, “You don’t feel motherfucking safe unless you planned it. Unless you knew exactly what would happen when it did. Hell, the only thing he didn’t plan was Brazino’s death, which worked in his favor. No witnesses.”
She simply nodded, and we held each other. The breeze blew in and around us, shrouded us together because we were all we had.
Chapter 12
Storm
Exactly a month from the day we married at my hotel, I entered through the secret door that led to my office. I’d already turned off the camera from my computer. I walked in, sat at my desk, and checked the security cameras, searching for evidence of the police. Gavin and I were reasonably sure the police weren’t interested in me. I’d already spoken to Kendrick, who informed me that our numbers had increased. Police had only been at the hotel twice since the explosion, and word spread about the newly married couple who hadn’t been seen or heard and presumed to be hiding. People were curious about the hotel owner, who may belong to a family from the underbelly who’d married a known Boss and booked rooms left and right.
Studying each camera, I noticed the hotel appeared normal and operating as usual. Kendrick held it down in my absence, and Oasis Palms thrived. Gavin worked tirelessly with his connections in the police and his lawyers to completely clear my name so that my hotel could remain a viable money-making business. He doubted that the mafia would touch it when all the major players of St. James were either dead or gone.
I reviewed my computer files and a few old security recordings before opening an encrypted email sent from my father. My father had sent me Intel on all the politicians and cops he had in his pocket. Xavier knew about the list and used it to his advantage, and now it was my turn. I eased back in my chair and called Mayor Logan. The newly elected Republican that my family secretly endorsed to have a connection to the highest office in New York. “Mayor’s office. How can I direct your call?”
“I need to speak to the Mayor. This is an emergency. Tell him that St. James’s is coming early.”
“I’ll have to relay your message through his assistant,” the operator’s polite yet firm tone indicated that she wouldn’t pass on the message.
“Do what you have to do. I think the Mayor would prefer to speak over the phone with one of the mob bosses then pop by the office.”
There was a pause. “Hold, please.”
A minute or two passed before I heard a deep, gravely, kind voice that lulled New Yorkers into voting for a man who was as dirty as they come, half-accuse, “I thought you were dead.”
“This is Storm St. James, Xavier’s sister. My father told me to reach out to you.”
“Yes.” His playful tone eased into professionalism. “What is this about?”
“You need to make sure I remain untouched. I’m back and plan to continue my family’s business.”
“That’s impossible. The head of St. James is gone. Without a head, the body flounders.”
I propped my Louboutin heels on my desk. “Ah...but the backbone keeps the body intact even if it’s not upright. Make no mistake, I am as ruthless and unforgiving as my brother. Cross me, and you’ll find out the lengths I’ll go to destroy you and your family.”
He chuckled. “Threats mean nothing.”
“Oh, but women other than your wife do mean something. Check your cell.”
The Mayor cursed as he watched himself and three women in my hotel penthouse. One who appeared barely legal at seventeen. This was a recording from three years ago, and I’d kept it just in case I needed it when I found out he was an up-and-coming politician. Imagine my luck when my father informed me that Mayor Logan was on the list.
“This recording will go out into the world in approximately five minutes. Your wife may forgive you, but the world won’t.”
“What do you want again?” He hissed.
“Tell the mafia in your back pocket to leave me alone. They can divide and tear up Manhattan, but Harlem remains St. James. Oasis Palms also remains my family business.”
