Page 88 of Ferocious Nightmare

Twenty-Five

The soundof low murmured conversation filled the air as I made my way down the back of the house and towards the spacious kitchen. Knight, Dante, and Marie were all sitting around the cream-colored kitchen island, talking.

And drinking.

Mostly drinking by the looks of it.

When I padded inside, I bit down on my smile, thinking about Coulter. Even with the hell I knew was coming, we would face it together.

It had been a long time since I’d felt this…happy. It was strange, because I'd always thought my life was perfect before Nero took me captive. But now, life was so much more fulfilling.

I had a purpose.

It was as if the seeds of the blood inside me were finally coming into fruition.

Even though I hadn't been raised in the mafia, I instinctually knew that ruling the Vegas mafia with them was where I belonged.

I also felt an extreme determination to kill that asshole, Nero. He didn't deserve to exist on this earth, and I was going to do what it took to get Coulter his revenge. He deserved his retribution.

With my terrible eyesight, the soft hanging lights shadowed their faces, making the atmosphere appear gloomy.

Pouring himself and Knight another glass of Glendronach whiskey, Dante grunted. “Coulter?”

"Yeah," I waved away his worry, “he just needs some rest. Right, Marie?"

She nodded, her crystal wine glass to her lips. She took a sip before answering, her throat bobbing. "I need to talk to you."

Knight, who had been tapping away on his phone with a deep scowl, tossed the phone onto the sandstone marble counter with a clatter. He ran his hand over his face, the ribbon around his wrist twisting with the movement, revealing tired eyes. "You want something from us.”

"I deserve it," she stated stubbornly, "and I've had far too many experiences with mafioso men. I know that if I don't ask for it now, you'll find a way to weasel out of it."

Ever since the opening of Posh, I couldn’t get that image of her out of my mind. Her smile, a genuine one, when she’d spray painted a dick on Nero's club. She'd seemed free in a way that I hadn't ever seen any other time. “She saved Coulter twice tonight. She deserves something in return.” I said. “What do you want?”

She placed her wine glass on the counter firmly, staring into my eyes. "I want you to get my daughter back for me."

"That's not going to happen," Dante immediately growled out.

"Fine," she glared at him, "then get the fuck out of my house, and take Coulter with you."

The room descended into a tense silence, and Dante glanced at Knight, the two of them communicating to each other without speaking.

Suddenly Knight's cell rang, and he picked it up. There was a ferociousness about him that I'd never seen before as he answered with a growl. “You saw the video. You know what I want.”

He turned, walking into the dark dining room to speak out of our line of hearing, with Dante following behind him.

I just stared after them in astonishment. Dios, what a cliché. Men leaving the women in the kitchen while they go do the 'real men's business’.

I shook my head, saying nothing, but taking charge. “We’ll work this out between us. Leave it to me to deal with them.” I rummaged through the cream Yardley cupboards until I found the glasses and poured my own wine. I needed something stronger, but I wasn’t in the mood for whiskey. "Tell me about your daughter. Why doesn't your husband know about her?"

She scoffed. "My husband hardly knows anything about me."

“And why is that?”

She suddenly became very interested in the Château Pétrus bottle sitting on the counter. "I guess I never told him anything because I thought he might leave me," she looked up, meeting my gaze, "and I couldn't let that happen."

"Why?"

"Because. I'm too deeply embedded. The cartel has owned me for so long, and Adam doesn’t even have a clue. And now they own him too, and that's all my fault."

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