Page 65 of Past Due

Darko laughed. “If she’s anything like my sister, it’s pointless to argue with them.”

“That’s been my experience so far.”

Darko stared at his phone screen. “She’s a beautiful woman. She’ll give you pretty daughters.”

The mention of daughters filled Besian’s mind with visions of little girls with Marley’s auburn hair and blue eyes. The warmth that spread through his chest at the idea of being a father to sweet daughters with their mother’s smile morphed into cold dread at the realization that men like him—dark, hard, dangerous men—would want to touch them, use them, own them. The thought that one of his daughters might end up sliding down a pole caused his stomach to pitch.

Fuck. No.

No daughters.

Only sons.

But even that idea wasn’t without its drawbacks. Would his sons want to follow in his footsteps? Go into the family business of loan sharking, strippers and crime? Earn their place as captains and bosses? Kill? Hurt?

Panic seized his heart. I can’t have kids with Marley. I’ll ruin them. There’s not enough goodness in her to balance out the ugliness in me.

His troubled thoughts continued to torment him even as he engaged in conversation with Darko about sports and betting. Eventually, Darko sat forward and lowered his voice. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“What?”

“Have you heard of the Syndicate?”

The Syndicate was an almost mythical organization within the criminal underworld of Europe. Allegedly, they were an international group of wealthy men and women who controlled everything—narcotics, guns, sex work, murder for hire and more. As far as Besian was concerned, they were more of a bogeyman than a real entity.

Besian nodded reluctantly. “Yes, but I’ve never met anyone who was part of it. Why?”

“I heard a rumor that—“

Darko stopped abruptly as Besian’s cell phone buzzed on the table, rattling against his glass. Relieved to have a reason not to talk about the shady group that probably didn’t even exist, Besian reached for his phone. His relief was short lived. Darko’s phone began to vibrate, too.

Before he or Darko could answer, Zec entered the room from wherever the hell he had been skulking. His expression was murderous as he said, “There’s been an incident with the women.”

Besian was on his feet in a heartbeat. Darko was only a half-step behind. Neither man wasted time asking questions. They ran to their vehicles as Zec called out the club address.

“I’ll drive,” Zec said, pushing Besian toward the passenger seat of his understated black sedan. “You’ll get lost.”

In his current state of anger, he would. As Zec fired his car to life, Besian demanded, “What happened?”

“The guards fucked up.” Zec made it out of the driveway first and sped down the private road toward the gate that was already sliding open. “Someone attacked Stefana.”

Besian felt a moment of guilty relief.

“And then apparently Marley jumped in and stabbed a man with a broken bottle,” Zec continued.

Besian’s relief fled. Panic gripped him. And anger. So much anger. “She what?”

“Stabbed a man with a broken bottle,” Zec repeated. “That’s all I know.”

Marley. His sweet, gentle Marley stabbing someone? With a broken bottle?

“What kind of dangerous club did Rina take them to? Why the hell weren’t the guards with them?”

“I don’t know.” Zec shot him a look. “Calm the fuck down before you have a stroke. There’s no point in panicking. Whatever happened, happened. All we can do now is clean up the mess.”

Besian clenched his jaw and glared out the windshield. Gory, violent images flashed before him. His heartburn roared to life, searing his throat and scorching his chest. Things were different here, easier to hide, but the word would get out eventually. Marley’s involvement wouldn’t stay a secret forever, especially not in the world of social media and cell phone videos.

When they reached the club, Zec parked in the narrow and poorly lit alley behind it. A line of cars followed them, tires squealing to a stop and men pouring out of them. Darko barreled by Besian like a linebacker, shouldering him out of the way so he could get into the building first. Besian didn’t hold it against him. After all, it was Darko’s sister who had been attacked.

---