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“Well, she refuses to leave the penthouse. Refuses to talk about anything unless it’s the girls and when I bring up her family’s company, she completely shuts down. She’s washing her hands of everything. She wasn’t kidding around when she said all she wants is to be there for the girls.”
“What about teaching? She has a degree,” Happy questioned.
“Mentioned that. Even told her the school Elizabeth attends is looking for a kindergarten teacher. She flat out refused because that would take her away from the girls. It isn’t right, Happy. She’s ignoring a major part of herself and I’m afraid if she continues, she’ll become someone she hates.”
“She’s scared,” Mercy spoke up. “Until we settle this mess, she won’t relax.”
“I agree,” I muttered, rubbing my face. I wanted my woman back. The woman who loved teaching, being around kids, and enjoyed life. The sooner I made her worries disappear, the happier I would be. “How are we on taking the company public?”
Storm sat up. “I have submitted paperwork to all the necessary parties. A courier delivered the Notice of Intent to the board this morning. They are scrambling. Two board members have resigned. I’ve contacted Clover from our UK Branch. He’s the best business attorney on the planet and licensed to practice in the United States. He will arrive tomorrow to help us complete this matter. In the meantime, Vicious, you should know that Van Otto Lapidary has voted you in as CEO and accepted our terms. As of right now, the Soulless Sinners are now in the gem business.”
Montana nodded. “Anything else?”
Mercy spoke up. “Just one more thing. All right, you fuckers listen up. It’s that time of year again. The Foundation’s Annual Ball is two weeks away.”
The room groaned.
“Suck it up,” Mercy continued. “You all know how Malice is about this shit. You fuck around and mess up this night for him and he will make your lives a living hell. I don’t know about all of you, but I like my balls right where they are. This year’s theme is ‘A Night at the Movies.’ So, dress accordingly.”
“Why do we have to do this shit?” Payne asked.
“Someone explain?” I asked.
Montana chuckled. “It’s Malice’s foundation. Ever the eloquent bastard, the Foundation, as he named it, is a global charity that caters to exploited and traumatized children. The annual ball is a major cash cow for the Foundation. Companies worldwide generally wait until the night of the Foundation’s Ball to make their donations. It’s a big to do. It also kicks off the social season for the Richey Rich here in New York City. Everyone who is anyone will be at the ball.”
“And because the Soulless Sinners sponsor the charity, all of us on the board are required to go,” Storm groaned.
“Which also means proper dates, you fuckers. No club piece allowed. You all know the rules, Storm,” Montana said, singling out the brother who sighed. “It was one time, Prez. One fucking time!”
“And no weapons Payne.” Montana added.
“Ain’t going into that hornet’s nest without backup and you can’t make me. Either I carry or I don’t go.”
“Fine,” Montana groaned, “Just keep the arsenal down to a minimum. The last time they patted you down, you were carrying enough to take down a small army.”
Payne grinned as the others chuckled.
“Speaking of Malice. It’s not Wednesday, so where is he?” Mercy asked.
Payne looked at his hands and muttered, “He’s in the mailroom with Fury.”
“Shit!” Montana jumped to his feet and ran from the room. Getting to my feet with the others, I saw Payne was still sitting. “The mailroom?”
“It’s the club’s wet room.”
“Yeah,” Mercy grinned. “Was going to show you after you got branded in but forgot. We have Thomas Miller and his butt buddy, Owen Slander, in there along with Vanessa White. When Malice found the girls’ location, he didn’t wait for permission. He never does. Now, he’s keeping them company. He’s really big on manners, if you catch my drift.”
Growling, I simply said, “Show me.”
I’d been around enough M.C.’s to know what a wet room was. Some clubs called it the cellar, the tomb, the bunker, anything to set that place apart from the clubhouse. It was where a club got answers. Where men and women bled for their crimes and got a first-class ticket to hell. If anybody found themselves in a club’s ‘wet room’, they knew they weren’t coming out alive.
They never did.
I didn’t know what to expect when Mercy led me into the Soulless Sinners’ wet room, but it sure as hell wasn’t a medieval-looking room with wrought-iron sconces and brick walls. The place reminded me of the time I visited theOratorio dei Discillini, in the town of Clustone, in Lombardy, Italy. Once home to a brotherhood of religious individuals known as the Disciplinati or the ‘Disciplined’. They believed through torture and self-punishment, they could absolve themselves of sin by experiencing the pain of Christ firsthand, thereby bringing them closer to God.
Of course, seeing the St. Andrew’s Cross displayed in the middle of the room was a bit much, but who was I to judge? From what Mercy told me on the way down here, it was Malice who specifically designed the room, taking extreme care to ensure whomever they had down here received the ultimate experience. Made sense too, considering Malice was a devoted Catholic.
Leaning against the cold, damp wall, I watched as Fury released his anger on the man secured to the cross. Didn’t know if it was Thomas or Owen and honestly, I didn’t give a fuck. Those two bastards endangered three little girls and upset my woman. As far as I was concerned, their life ended when they even agreed to partake in that bitch’s scheme. Looking around the room, I also noticed four alcoves with iron bars. Like prison cells, the small alcoves were completely barren except for two, which held the other fucker and Vanessa White.
