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Will it be me, the man who has bought me, or the man I’ve had in my sights for more years than I care to remember, Carlos Matasso?
Just thinking about him makes my heart beat with the steady beat of the funeral march. He has consumed my thoughts for so long now I would probably miss him if he was no longer there. I’ve sharpened my crazy where he is concerned and nothing else matters but sending him to a bloody grave.
But what of the man who also seeks the same? Leonardo Ortega? I wasn’t expecting him, most definitely not. There are many men and women who want Carlos Matasso dead, and I’ve always wondered who will pull the trigger in the end.
Now I know because a deal has been struck and we are of the same mind. Will it be me or him? That remains to be seen in less than seven days’ time.
I give nothing away. I never do and as he rises from his seat, he expects me to follow him like the puppy dog he wants me to be.
He will soon learn that some puppies can’t be trained because I only serve one master that goes by the name of revenge.
For now, I follow him as he expects and consider my options as we cut a path through the curious onlookers in the club that is so familiar to me. Poker night has always been a particular pleasure of mine. I love nothing more than draining the resources and the life from my opponents, and yet tonight has been a long time coming in many ways. I have been beaten by a far superior player. I admire his skill and I admire the man.
Tall, dark and handsome doesn’t really cut it when explaining the enigma striding with an air of importance in front of me. His loyal soldiers acting as a human shield against a possible attack. Mafia is something I’ve come across my whole life and is the organization that shaded my edges. Mafia is the reason I set myself on a destructive path and the mafia will be the death of me when I take it on. I understand this world; I have immersed myself in this world and all because of one man. The man I will kill or die trying.
We step out into the night air, and I take a deep breath, coating my lungs in oxygen and dark resolve. I sleep by day and work by night because that’s when the vermin come out to play. I am no exception, and I’m almost salivating at the opportunity to use the skills I honed to get me to this point.
Mr. Ortega steps into the middle car and I am directed toward the one behind. As I slide into the dark interior, I am grateful for the solitude because I need to gather my thoughts and think this through.
As the car pulls away from the curb, I note the bright lights and stumbling drunks that occupy the streets at night. City workers, party goers and those down on their luck. The homeless and those consumed by narcotics who have lost their lives somewhere along the way and ended up with no direction.
That could so easily have been me, and once it was. I lay on the cold streets of despair and clawed my way back because of one desire. The life of Carlos Matasso in revenge for mine.
The drive takes us out of the city, where the houses become larger and the streets emptier.
The darkness is lifting as the night sky prepares to make way for the day. This is when I retreat to my own apartment to consider the night’s offerings. Several thousand dollars in winnings, or payment for a job well done.
I am unsure what this one involves, but I’m guessing I’m about to find out as we sweep through large metal gates toward a property that sprawls in opulent grounds as if it owns the state. Dominant. Beautiful and impressive. A lot like its owner, I guess, and I shift on my seat with anticipation because I fucking love shit like this. I get off on it and something is telling me this will be the making of Chastity Blake. Whatever happens here will define me and I have absolutely no doubt about that.
The car stops and the door flies open and as I step from the car, I stare up at the impressive façade of a house built on blood. A fortress, an open grave for some, possibly me because I understood perfectly the consequences involved if I don’t deliver.Death.
I follow the silent soldier dressed in the suit of retribution as we follow the Grim Reaper himself, and I feel my excitement stirring. This is it. Judgment day and I am almost salivating at the chance of ending this once and for all.
CHAPTER2
LEO
Ryan is silent beside me, and I can tell he’s intrigued. I share his interest because Chastity Blake is a legend neither one of us really expected to agree to this.
Our planning has paid off better than expected and I can’t even breathe in case I burst this bubble of opportunity that could save my family.
When I issued my ultimatum, I wasn’t kidding. Try or die, and that also refers to me. If we fail, ifshefails, she won’t be the only one knocking on the gates of hell for a room. I’ll be right beside her with my brothers for company. Carlos Matasso will make certain of that, which is why everything has been planned meticulously and nothing left to chance. Two million dollars is the prize for one, but mine is much greater. My life and that of everyone who is loyal to me.
Rather than head to bed, I nod to my housekeeper Ruby who stands silently to the side as I sweep through my mansion and I say in a low deep voice, “We have a houseguest, Ruby. When I’ve finished with her, show her to the guest wing.”
She nods and stares at my guest with barely concealed interest and it amuses me to see the hope in her eyes before she glances down, providing an effective curtain against her hopeful expression.
It amuses me because of all the people in my organization, Ruby has yet to learn there is no hope. Not for me. I am born to be Don Ortega, and that acts as a barrier against hope. My life may be long, it could end tomorrow, and I take my kicks where I can because a normal life is not for me, it never was.
Ruby is a romantic. A foolish woman with ideas that come straight from the pages of a romance novel. I know she cares for me in a nurturing way, but she would be wise to remember I am beyond hope. There is no happily ever after written in the stars for me and there never was.
We head to my den and as I inhale the masculine scent of cigars and wood smoke, I note the flickering embers of the fire that once lived inside the grate, clinging onto life before they turn cold. I identify a lot with that, which is why I demand that it’s lit every single day. I love the danger of fire, the beauty of it and the fact it burns. Then when it has consumed everything in its path, it slowly fades away.
I take my seat and watch with a blank expression as Ryan makes way for our guest. He closes the door before stepping to the side and watches with a keen interest as she elegantly takes the seat before me. I study her with growing interest as, with a flick of her head, her long dark hair falls around her shoulders and her dark brown eyes flash with curiosity and excitement.
“Miss. Blake.”
“Mr. Ortega.”
