Page 46 of The Demon

Ivan growls, “Any ideas, gut instinct, even?”

“Nothing.” I exhale with exasperation. “My father appeared interested when I mentioned it and turned to his computer. Massimo was also trying to track him down, and it appears he was getting close. I’ll sift through his computer files because what he discovered must be on there somewhere.”

Angelo appears thoughtful and then stares at me with a concerned expression.

“The explosion.”

“What about it?”

The others grin as I lean back and say with satisfaction. “It couldn’t have gone better.”

Angelo nods. “Word on the street is they all perished. Two powerful families erased from life in one devastating explosion.”

“What are they saying?”

I’m curious and Angelo grins. “They’re reporting a freak accident. The fuel tanks overheated or some shit like that.”

“I expected no less.” As I picture the clean-up crew’s task on this one, I can only imagine the urgent meetings taking place in my home country right now. There will be an internal investigation and my father replaced before the day is out. Business as usual and the incident swept under the Persian rug. As long as the Emirate is protected, they won’t give a fuck about my family or who stepped out of line as long as it doesn’t affect them at all.

“What will you do now?” Ivan says with interest, probably because he suffered the same fate as me when his own family was wiped out by Massimo.

“I play dead along with Eliza. Hopefully, we will stay dead for many years and assume new identities.”

“And Eliza’s ok with that?” Flynn appears worried for her, reminding me why he is called The Angel. Of all of us, Flynn has a protective streak for women who have endured a hard life and that obviously hasn’t changed since he married Louisa.

“Eliza will do what I tell her.” I growl.

“There he is.” Flynn laughs softly. “The demon bastard we all know and love.”

“What are your intentions?” Angelo silences Flynn and I stretch out with contentment.

“I am marrying for power, of course.” I laugh softly. “Power over Eliza.”

Ivan rolls his eyes. “Poor woman. Does she realize what she’s done? She’s replaced one scheming, dark, conniving bastard for an even greater one.”

“She knows.” I grin at my friends and it’s as if we are back at Rockwell, plotting the fate of some unfortunate person who crossed us.

I look up and growl, “What does a guy have to do to get a drink around here?”

Angelo rolls his eyes. “Of course. We should toast Malik’s freedom. At least one good thing happened. Now we bring Frankie back and then we can carry on with world domination.”

As we set about drinking the bottle of whiskey dry, I think about Eliza and what she must be thinking. Scared, undoubtedly, but seeing her face this room of vipers tells me she will fit into this family just fine.

* * *

Once I’ve caughtup with my friends, I head off to my room, hoping Eliza is already there. I’m exhausted after the events yesterday and the subsequent journey and just want to hold her in my arms and sleep for twelve hours.

As soon as I head into my huge space, I look for her and smile when I see her curled up on top of the large bed, sleeping like a baby.

As I move stealthily across the room, so not to wake her, I take a moment to appreciate the beauty that now lies in my once empty bed. I’ve never brought a woman to Club Mafia, and I have never allowed a woman to spend the whole night with me. Most of my past lovers were prostitutes, or models hired by my father to entertain us at parties on board The Siren, or in secret locations in Dubai. We always enjoyed many women and cast them aside as if they were disposable, sending them on their way with more money than they earn in a year and a signature on a non-disclosure agreement.

Now I have my own woman to enjoy for the rest of my life and, unlike the ones before her, Eliza will be treated like the queen she is.

My queen.

My wife and my world because since I’ve met her, I am not interested in anyone else.

Leaving her to sleep, I head to my bathroom and enjoy a long and leisurely shower, washing away the trauma of the past few days. It strikes me that I haven’t even mourned my father’s death and cast my mind back on a plan well executed.

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