The sky over Chicago was covered with clouds, a clear indication of rain. Deva could smell it even from inside the limo. And it wasn’t only rain that was brewing, but a storm. How quaint.
Gabrielle was sitting beside her, finagling on her phone, looking incredibly smart in her pale cream suit. Her blond hair was slicked back, held by a mean-looking barrette. Deva guessed that it may very well be a weapon in disguise.
Looking down at herself, Deva couldn’t believe that not even twenty-four hours earlier, she had been kidnapped by psychos, covered in grime and scratched with a nasty bump on her head. Now, she was wearing a suit that cost more than her last car. The deep copper color of her skirt and jacket offset her eyes and deepened the tone of her hair, the curls carefully tied in a chignon on top of her head. Deva Landry wasn’t there anymore. She wasn’t needed for the next step of the plan. Victoria Johnson, the daughter of the Dark Blood Rows’ president, needed to take the lead. That’s where her credibility lay.
“I can’t believe you could schedule a meeting with the Puerto Rican head in Chicago that fast. Did you get it by going through Hector?”
Gabrielle clicked off her phone. “No, using Hector was a possibility, but it would jeopardize his connections within the hierarchy. And we may need him later if our plan fails.”
Deva arched an eyebrow. “Because you expect it to fail?”
“I expect all my plans to succeed and to fail. And I plan for that possibility. That’s what Beatrice taught me. And she probably did the same with you.”
Deva nodded, her head reeling with the possibilities.
“And I think that you should think about your plan B with Aleksei too. I don’t know the entire story, Deva. But I know for a fact that half truths lead to big fucking regrets. And I don’t know about you, but regrets suck.”
Deva laughed. Gabrielle had succeeded in giving her hope, getting her into fighting mode. But first, duty.
The chauffeur clicked on the intercom. “We’re here, ladies.”
“Ready to roll, Deva?”
“Bring it on.”
The meeting with Mercutio Soltero was to be conducted on enemy turf. Café Reina, a famous Puerto Rican restaurant on Chicago Avenue.
Normally this time of day, the place would be packed. But not today. The restaurant was empty apart from the infamous mobster. He was comfortably waiting for them at a table, all alone. Or almost all alone.
When they entered, Deva saw Hector out the corner of her eye near the entrance but didn’t make any obvious sign of recognizing him. For now, Gabrielle’s plan was the way to go.
Mercutio Soltero was a tall, wiry man with short salt and pepper hair, and piercing dark eyes. As soon as he saw them, he got to his feet, beaming the whitest smile Deva had ever seen, very smart in his pale summer suit.
“Mrs. Thorne, Miss Johnson. An honor to make your acquaintance.”
Gabrielle nodded and smiled in return, offering her hand. “Mr. Soltero, how gracious of you to make time for us.”
“Well, knowing that the infamous Gabrielle Thorne was in my dear Chicago would have been reason enough, but now that Victoria Johnson had officially returned from the dead, it warrants a celebration. Glad you could return to the living, Miss Johnson.”
Deva took his hand and nodded. “Miracles exist it seems. Rest assured that I’m the first one to be surprised, Mr. Soltero.”
“Please call me Mercutio. Be seated. Care for a coffee? It is the best in the city.”
Gabrielle put her folder on the table beside her and nodded. “I long for a good coffee. And you, Deva?”
Mercutio smiled and gestured for a waiter behind the bar. “Ah, right. You are known by another name. Please excuse me. The last time I saw you, you were called Victoria.”
“No harm done. Time changes people, my new name signifies that change.”
“Many rumors circulated. One more persistent than others. That you fled an arranged marriage.”
Men, she thought. Clueless and stuck in their ways.
“What would you do if your free will was taken from you, Mercutio? And don’t talk to me about duty. I fear that it is an excuse for a severe lack of imagination or intelligence.”
Gabrielle inhaled sharply, but a quick look confirmed more of a disguised chuckle than a frown at her intervention.
The waiter came with three cups of coffee and a plate of quesitos.
Waiting to be alone again, Mercutio took a sip of coffee. “I think that there are times to challenge and others to submit. I believe in change. In evolution. I do have a daughter, Miss Landry. And even though she’s quite young, I fear for anyone that forced her to do anything she didn’t want to.”
Gabrielle took a sip and put her cup down. “Well, are you a feminist, Mercutio?”
The man grinned. “I’ve been surrounded by strong women all my life. I have two fierce ladies in front of me, and I’m ready to listen to them. I don’t know if I’m a feminist as you say, but I don’t discriminate due to gender. If I met a woman strong enough to make the ranks, I would gladly accept her.” He leaned back in his chair. “Is that what this meeting is about? I don’t know anything about your skills, Deva, but I would be more than honored to have you, Gabrielle in our ranks.”
“I’m greatly flattered, Mercutio, but I have no immediate intention of changing jobs.”
Mercutio slightly bowed his head and turned his attention to Deva who shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but I would feel uncomfortable working for a man under the control of Jamieson Finch.”
The way Mercutio looked at her, revealed much more than it concealed.
“And you know him well it seems, Mercutio.”
The look of disgust on the older man’s face was telling. “He’s a fool, hungry for money to the point where he would step on dead children to get his way. I may be walking on the wrong side of the law, ladies, but some lines should never be crossed unless you are ready to lose your soul.”
Deva looked at Gabrielle who nodded.
“It seems that even a man as cunning and intelligent as you may not see the devil in his own midst.”
“What do you mean?”
“When Jamieson Finch wanted to make an alliance with you, and you refused, do you really believe that he simply crawled back into his hole?”
Soltero leaned back on his seat. “My dear Deva. I rarely backtrack on a decision I make. As I said, Finch’s methods are against what we believe here.”
“And again, knowing the kind of man Finch is, it’s against everything he stands for to bow and go away. Don’t you think?”
His eyes glinted. “Why are you so interested in Finch?”
It was Deva’s turn to offer him a patronizing smile. “Because between two evils, I prefer the civilized one. Finch is about to unleash a war over the city, in such a cunning way that nobody can see it coming. Not even you, Mercutio.”
The man shook his head, clearly in denial. “There is no war, Deva. If there was one, I would be the first to know. To sense it.”
It was Gabrielle’s turn to lean forward. “From one strategist to another, Mercutio. War not only comes from the outside. It can brew from within too.”
“If you are suggesting that one of my men is a traitor, you know nothing about me!”
Deva shook her head. “And that’s exactly what Finch planned for. It’s taken years in the planning, and the grand prize will be to overtake your organization.”
“I don’t believe you. You are insane!”
Gabrielle sighed. “We knew you wouldn’t believe us. Not without proof, at least. That’s why we are sharing some privileged information we have gathered, about one of your men.” She pushed the file toward the mob boss. “Inside is the name of your traitor, with several emails sent between him and Finch over the years, as well as his financials. The official ones, of course, not the one you can access. Also, in it, you will find the names of his potential followers.”
Deva frowned. “You don’t have to believe us, do your own checks.”
Both Deva and Gabrielle got up, as Mercutio looked at the unopened file before him, still seated.
Deva almost took pity at the man. “You are not the only one who’s been fooled by Finch. Every important syndicate has been.”
Stone-faced, Mercutio got to his feet, one hand resting on the file. “What do you expect from me? If the information is correct, how much do I owe you for this?”
Deva looked at Gabrielle before looking back at the man. “We expect you to do some cleaning up. And there is nothing owed. As I said, better the devil we know.”
Gabrielle turned, and Deva was about to follow when Mercutio called her name. “Mex Johnson may have been broken after losing his son, but he should never have dismissed you, Deva. You would have made a lethal adversary. A worthy president.”
Flattered and disgusted at the same time, Deva bowed her head and followed Gabrielle outside, back into the limo. The day was far from done, and meetings were close together in various parts of the city.
Convincing the different mob bosses and syndicates required skill and cunning intelligence. Gabrielle often helped to orient the conversation, subtly convincing the different men of their intent. Some of them were tough cookies, suspicious or downright dumb. But in the end, facts didn’t lie.
In-between meetings, Gabrielle checked for updates about Sasha and the men, but nothing concrete came up. Tension churned in Deva, making it more and more difficult to focus on the meetings. Torn between her worry for Sasha and her longing for Aleksei, it took all her might to finish it.
The last meeting had been with Gerasim. And of all of them, he was the one who doubted her the most, probably because of their earlier meeting and her relationship with Aleksei. In that one, Gabrielle did most of the talking. In the end, Deva was convinced that the man would do his homework thoroughly. However, the ordeal with Semyon and Sasha was kept out of it. Tomorrow would be soon enough to add that information to the mix.
When they returned to the limo, Gabrielle received a call from Lazarus, telling her that the rescue had been a success.
Deva fell back, relieved that Sasha was alive and well. Lazarus had whisked her off to an undisclosed location. And before she could ask, Gabrielle relayed that all the men were fine too, no injuries or casualties. Aleksei was on his way to deliver Semyon and his men to Gerasim. That alone would provide all the proof the Pakan would need, and she knew Gerasim would believe Aleksei if not the facts they had given him earlier.
“What about my father?”
Gabrielle’s face fell. “There was a shootout. He’s wounded. The guys called the ambulance, but he was losing a lot of blood.”
“Which hospital?”
“Deva, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I know, Gabrielle. I’m not doing this for him.”
Returning to her phone, she asked Lance to meet them at the hospital.
It took less than fifteen minutes for the limo to turn around and arrive at the hospital’s entrance. And as Gabrielle had requested, Lance was waiting for them in the lobby, all clad in dark clothes and thick boots. If she checked more carefully, there was a thin cut near his ear and a bruise on his jaw. The mission may have been difficult, but his mischievous side was still very much visible when he welcomed them.
“Well, I don’t know if I fancy meeting you in a hospital again, Deva.”
She winced at the half-disguised reproach. “There shouldn’t be any trouble this time. What about my father?”
Lance’s face turned sober. “He was rushed into surgery. With three bullets in the chest, the doctors are not very optimistic.”
“Show me where he is, Lance.”
All three of them went to the surgery’s waiting room and sat down. Gabrielle offered to get her a coffee, but she declined. Instead, she looked around the room where several other families were waiting for news about their loved ones. Deva felt so calm, it scared her. To be honest, despite everything he made her go through, she didn’t hate him enough to die. Or maybe it was her childhood memories that kept her vengeance at bay.
“Lance? How is Sasha?”
The blond man extended his long legs in front of him, possibly to find a more comfortable position for his huge body on such a small chair. “Your cousin is one tough woman.” And he grinned as he remembered. “She was held chained in a room, and when we located her, she had already found a way to get free and was working on the window to escape.”
Deva nodded. Sasha had been in awful situations as a doctor working in war zones. Some of them she knew, others, not so much. Her cousin had kept those to herself. She suspected Sasha had many scars of her own.
“So, she’s unharmed?”
“Dehydrated, with bumps and bruises, and very tired. Nothing that won’t be cured in a few days with plenty of sleep. I think it’s the reason Lazarus almost kidnapped her too. He said it was to protect her, but I feel the tall bearded commander has a sweet spot for your cousin. You should have seen him walking out of there with Sasha in his arms. A sight to behold. Oz said he would make sure she was protected and safe before taking care of Finch.”
Deva looked at Gabrielle who shook her head. Gabrielle would be the one informing the man of their little intervention. And if all went as well as they hoped, Lazarus wouldn’t be able to say a word about it.
“And Aleksei?”
Lance glanced at her and switched position, putting his elbows on his knees.
“Unharmed. And on his way to deliver Semyon and several of his goons to the Russian mob boss. But is it really what you want to ask me about him, Deva?”
Deva shook her head but stayed silent. Lance sighed. “Listen, Deva. Give him time. I saw his face when Oz told him about your relationship with Damon. It was as if you announced you had betrayed him with an entire squadron. Give him time. I know that what was planned to begin with turned into something unplanned but no less true. Oz’s words screwed everything up, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I know. I should have told him as soon as he arrived. But I never thought it would turn sour so fast without having a chance to explain.”
Lance patted her knee. “I don’t know him that well, but the man obviously had trauma in his past and now has an issue with betrayal and abandonment. Let him wallow for awhile, and he’ll come back. And if not, just bring him out of his hole kicking and screaming and put the video on the Web so I can watch.”
The plan B Gabrielle had referred to. Until she had news from her father, her brain was free to do some much-needed planning. She had told him about her feelings and had been sincere about them. He didn’t even offer her an opportunity to explain, and she knew that Aleksei wasn’t the kind of man to be forced into something. And even if she loved him, even if she would ache for him all her life, there was no future for them. Maybe she ought to change the way she ought to fight for him. If she couldn’t have him, it didn’t mean she shouldn’t offer him solace and peace.