Page 14 of Flowers and Moonlight

Samantha keeps talking as if I’m not in the room and I know it’s because she wants to get a rise out of me. Too bad she’s already desensitized me to her antics and her brand of mean. I simply don’t care anymore.

Gone are the days when I hoped we could be sisters. That thought died a long fucking time ago. She’s always been this cruel human; one I feel sorry for more than anything else. Over the years I’ve tried to understand why she is the way she is, but it really doesn’t matter.

I’m not going to change her and she’s not going to change on her own. She thinks everyone around her is in her life to do her bidding and tell her how wonderful she is. If she wants sycophants instead of friends, real friends, it’s her problem and not mine.

“I spent all night talking with the three Guidice brothers.” She presses her hand to her heart and her eyelashes flutter. Even her swoon is fake as fuck. I want to smirk and tell her none of the Guidice men were interested in her, but I hold off. “I also spoke with Tony, he’s like the right-hand man for the family.”

My blood starts to boil, but after years of dealing with her, I’m able to keep my face neutral. I hate my man’s name on her tongue. It sounds wrong and makes me want to do violent things to her.

“You won’t be the only one with an important man as a husband.”

I narrow my eyes at her and get a glare in return as she starts on my eye shadow. I have no doubt she’s going to put way too much on and make me look like a slutty clown. I guess there are worse things and maybe it’ll turn Martinez off.

“Maybe you should marry Juan Martinez,” I throw out there.

I don’t know what reaction I was expecting, but laughter was not it. Samantha is laughing so hard she’s almost in tears and I can only look at her like she’s grown an extra head.

“Not only does it have to be you, Posy,” she sneers my name, “because you’re Bernard’s blood daughter, but I want a man with real power. I’m going to get a man who can make me a queen while you’ll just be a slave. It wouldn’t surprise me if Juan chains you to his bed so you’re available to be used by him, and who knows how many of his men, anytime he wants.”

Ah, the sisterly love is almost stifling.

Suddenly, Samantha claps and peels, “Done.” She frowns at me as she studies my face, her tone full of depreciation, “Well, at least I’ve done what I can.”

I stand up and grab the dress she picked out before heading into my bathroom to pull it on and look at what she’s done to me. I hardly look like myself. You’d think with all the make-up and the way she’s styled my hair that I would feel beautiful, but everything Samantha did makes me feel cheap.

I straighten my shoulders and remind myself that I’m going to find a way out of this whole mess. It’s not quite the pep talk I need, but it’s the only one I can get because just as I’m walking out the bathroom, the doorbell rings.

Maybe he’s not a complete jackass.

Samantha ushers me out and I start to head down the stairs, hoping my dad will pull out of this whole charade. I know it’s a ridiculous wish and that luck won’t be on my side, but a girl can try. I can’t remember the last time Dad put me first and if this is about his business, there’s zero hope when it comes to him helping me. He’s the one to put me in this position anyway.

When I come face-to-face with Juan Martinez, I freeze because I know the man in front of me is dangerous. There’s something slimy about him and it makes my skin crawl. His eyes eat me up in a way which makes me want to run.

The warning look Dad shoots my way tells me I better not try it.

I can practically hear him telling me that I’m a reflection of him and better not fuck it up. God forbid anything makes the great Bernard Moreau look bad. I should know because, according to him, I’ve done it for years.

“Posy,” Juan’s voice is like ice sharp enough to slice through you, “what a lovely flower you are. It’ll be a pleasure to pluck you,” his voice drips with innuendo and desire making bile rise in my throat.

I plaster a smile on my face and hope it looks halfway sincere. If there’s a chance for me to get out of this, I have to tread carefully. I can’t shake the thought that if I don’t then I could wind up in some metal box being shipped off somewhere.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Martinez,” my voice is soft and doesn’t waver.

I learned a long time ago that men who think they are powerful prefer a woman who comes off like a mouse; it’s a role I’ve embodied for years. Only now, after spending the night with Tony and Zeno, do I feel a fire inside of me that wasn’t there before. I can do this, and I can win.

Juan offers me his arm and I don’t hesitate to take it because of the weight of my father’s stare as he watches my every move. I don’t bother saying goodbye to him and neither does Martinez as he sweeps me out of the house.

This night is going to be a test of my will to survive, but I’m determined to get through it. No matter what.

CHAPTER 8

TONY

When we pull up to the address where Hack told us our woman should be, the anger that has been rising inside of me since we woke up two days ago to find out our Moonlight had snuck out is at a fever pitch. It’s been a shit show and I’ve been hanging on by a thread. Zeno, initially, had been dealing with the whole thing better than me, especially with the lead we had with Donovan Durante’s mask, at least until we met the man.

After we left the Devil’s Saints clubhouse, our next stop was Donovan’s home which doubles as his studio. It didn’t take long for him to answer the door with a surprised look on his face. When his eyes traveled down to the mask in Zeno’s hands, the surprise smoothed out into a blank expression.

I didn’t trust it.

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