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Chapter Seventeen
JULIAN
Stepping into the room, there’s nothing inside except us, two occupied chairs and a single, low hanging light with a flickering bulb. The two people tied up before us have bags of their heads and earmuff on, sensory deprivation, fuck the Volkov’s were cruel. Effective, but cruel.
As agreed, Rosie and I stay back, against the far wall, hidden in the shadows as we let Eli do the work. He approached the person on the left, removing the muffs and tearing the bag from their head. Rosie stiffens beside me, obviously recognizing the person sat before us with the defiant eyes.
Elijah rips the tape off their mouth, leaving an angry red mark. “What’ve we got here? A pretty boy?”
They were wearing a blue corset, with intricate gold dragon embroidery and a pair of trousers that laced up the sides. Their long hair was messy thanks to the bag, but it was clearly partially braided, and threaded with gold hoops and beads.
Spitting, they hissed, “My pronouns are they/them asshole.”
“Your what are what?” Eli stands for a moment, perplexed. That’s when it dawns on me that we didn’t actually have anyone, in my office or in The Family, who openly identified as non-binary. Hell, we didn’t have women as Captains either and in 2022, that shit needed to change.
The young person wriggles against the bindings before glaring at Eli. “You aren’t that ignorant, don’t pretend otherwise.”
Eli grabs his knife from his waistband and flips it open, running the blade down the traitor’s cheek. “What do pronouns matter when we all end up nothing but skeletons in the ground anyway, hmmm?”
It’s all part of the intimidation, as Eli tries to crack the obstinate attitude the person before him is displaying. Their jaw is set, their shoulders set back and their mouth is pulled into a tight straight line, all indicators that they won’t be easy to break unless the right pressure is applied.
“I’m not dead yet, so it’s they/them or I won’t answer your questions.” They huff, trying the ropes one again. “Or you may call me Cato.”
“That’s not how interrogation works,” Eli snorts, watching his knife cut into the stranger’s cheek as they struggle against the restraints.
“You don’t scare me,” they say, breathing erratically. “I grew up in East Point where my own father pimped me out and then sold me to his drug dealer to pay his debts. Physical pain is nothing.”
I turn to look at Rosie, taking note of the way her jaw has clenched and her arms are crossed firmly over her chest, as if she were restraining herself from interfering. She didn’t just know this person, she cared about them. The Queen of Hearts finally had a weak spot, and it wasn’t me. For some reason, that stung more than it should have.
“The Volkov’s tell us you’ve been spying on The Family for The Cartel, Cato.” Eli grabs Cato’s hair and pulls his head back hard. “Is it true?”
They look up at Eli, face blank as they reply. “Yes.”
“Why? What did they offer you?”
“Money.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing they didn’t already know.” Their voice is flat, monotone and there’s something unsatisfactory about their answers. Why give in so easily? Why the lack of emotion? There was no fear, no remorse, no begging, not like we usually saw with these types of interrogation.
“You’re a useless mole then?” Eli goads, poking them with his knife again, this time using the handle. They don’t even flinch.
“No.” Another dull answer.
Eli groans, and runs a hand over his face. “You have to give us more than that Cato, or I’m going to have to cut up that pretty face of yours.”
He sounds reluctant, and I’m impressed. I almost believe him. However, I know it’s just a part of the interrogation, it’s how Eli works and it really is something compelling to watch. Beside me, Rosie swallows. Could she handle it if we had to hurt Cato? Because if they didn’t give us something, and soon, that’s what would happen.
Suddenly they glare at Eli and spit again, this time in Eli’s face. “I don’t have to give you shit! You assholes killed Rosie, she was going to fix everything. She was going to make sure we were heard. And your fuckhead of a boss murdered her.”
Eli raises a brow as he wipes the spittle from his cheek. “Rosalyn Gambino?”
Cato inhales shakily. “I thought…I really thought she was going to win. I was gathering information on The Cartel for her, making myself useful, ready for when she needed it.”
Eli says nothing, standing back with his arms crossed, tapping his knife against his arm restlessly as we all watch the person before us burst into angry tears.
“But you fuckers killed her. You destroyed her life, took everything from her and then murdered her.” They sob, face turning red as they struggle to breathe, shout and cry all at the same time. “This is how you treat people in The Family, and you don’t even see it—too busy drinking champagne in your fucking mansions while the rest of us get trodden on.”
These were my people, the ones I was supposed to protect and I was doing a poor job of it, instead focusing my attention keeping the old traditional men happy. That was how Rosie had won support, by targeting the people I overlooked every day. She looks at me, her eyebrow raised in question and when I nod my head, she rushes to Cato, getting on her knees before them.
Stroking their face, as Eli cuts their bindings, she soothingly says, “Cato, calm down.”
“Ro?” They sob harder, their whole body shaking before falling to the floor with her and pulling her into a hug.
“Heyyyy baby, it’s me. Shhhhhh. Not dead, look, all in one piece.” She comforts them, rocking them gently.
Sitting back, Cato glares at her. “Where the FUCK have you been? They said…”
“I know, I know,” Rosie replies, cutting them off, but I notice she doesn’t explain. What would she say? I’ve been holed up in a mansion, getting naked with Julian Asaro, the guy I hate and baking cakes? Unlikely.
“Cato, you need to tell me what you learned about The Cartel. It’s really important,” she requests softly, taking their face between her hands.
They swallow, sniffling as they wipe away the remainder of their tears. The shock has seemingly worn off now. “Some guy from the Six Suns Chinese crime syndicate is backing them.”
I exchanged a look with Eli, whose expression seems to mirror my thoughts. We hadn’t been expecting international support for The Cartel, they were just a bunch of upstarts looking to increase their territory for fuck’s sake. They hadn’t been around long enough and certainly weren’t sophisticated enough to have any sway internationally.
“That’s not possible…” Rosie remarks firmly as she gets to her feet and offers Cato a helping hand.
“Why?” Eli asks, narrowing his eyes at Rosie. There were always more secrets, more tricks to uncover with her. She was like that damn handkerchief joke the clowns at the circus used, and even though I pulled and I pulled, I doubt I’d ever reach the end with her.
“The Six Suns is run by a woman,” she clarifies, looking at both Eli and me like we were idiots for not knowing that. It wasn’t like organized crime groups across the world had yearly symposiums or a group chat. We were criminals for fuck’s sake.
“Well, then there’s been a change in leadership or something,” I reply flippantly, irritated that she seemed, once again, to know more than I did. Maybe she was better suited for this role than I was? Maybe I’d been fooling myself all along thinking that I could make this Family stronger, when really, I was clueless and focusing on the wrong things.
“No, I spoke with Kiaria last week.” She shakes her head. “It’s not them. They aren’t supporting The Cartel.”
“Why would you be speaking to the Six Suns?” Eli demands, and I can see the wheels turning inside his head and he thinks the same as I do. Was this how she was going to take me down?
“Because they have an opiate route that I think will benefit Newtown.”
“You want to bring more drugs into the city?” Eli asks incredulously, as he pulls out his phone and calls one of his men in here.
“You think you can’t get them already? No, I want to bring more regulated drugs in. Control the source and the flow, if you will.” She laughs and rolls her eyes, sharing a ‘can you believe this guy?’ type of look with Cato. Turning to me, she gently says, “It was inspired by White Rabbit, but it’s called Mad Hatter.”
She was inspired by White Rabbit? By the way I was pushing WunderLnd Corporation forward? That was new. I mean, she’d admired my body, worshipped my cock and adored my house. But when it came to The Family and how I oversaw everything, she always had criticism, things she would do differently, better.
“We’ll continue this discussion later,” I reply, placing a kiss on the back of her hand, ignoring the way Cato’s eyes almost bugged out of their head. “We still have another guest to question.”
We all turn and look at the second figure tied to the chair. Daniel.
