Avenge: #3 Romanian Mob Chronicles (14 page)

A
nton

I
was almost blind
with fury, rage coursing through me, blinding me to everything around me. I drove fast, too fast, and I eventually pulled over, feeling too close to the edge to risk driving.

So I sat, my mind whirling with the revelation.

Lily had betrayed them.

Betrayed me.

Even thinking of her words made my heart clench.

Thinking of the times we’d been together made it clench harder.

She’d given herself to me, shared her body with me, something she hadn’t done with anyone else.

I gripped the wheel tight, not allowing my mind to stray from the pain that rocked me. But worse than the pain, the hot anger of betrayal, was the uncertainty. Unbidden, a memory came of Lily beneath me, the wondrous expression on her face when I touched her, her tentative, sweet caresses…

Even now, I could almost feel her fingers on my skin, my cock hardening at the memory even as the heat of betrayal charged through me.

I’d given her everything, my honor, my love, and it had all been a lie.

I waited for the hatred, the rage, the need to get my own vengeance, but it never came. All I felt was sadness, the loss at the awareness that I couldn’t see her again, be with her again, pushing everything else away.

Suddenly, I felt weak and slumped against the car seat, energy leaving me. I’d almost allowed myself to believe, but that was over now, and I was as I had always been. Alone.

I don’t know how long I sat, that thought echoing in my mind, how long I would have stayed had the phone not rung.

The shrill ring filled the cabin of the car, but I ignored it. But it rang again and then again until I finally answered it.

“What?” I barked into the phone.

As I listened, my anger fled, replaced with a different but no less crushing sadness.

“I’ll be there soon,” I said.

A
nton

I
t had only taken
fifteen minutes between the call and my arrival at the house. Five of that had been spent sitting in the car, wishing the past hours hadn’t happened, picturing how the day could have gone, me with Lily in my arms, the terrible knowledge I now carried not even on a ripple on the horizon.

But that was a fantasy, a life that wasn’t mine and never could be, so I got out of the car, went to face the reality.

Tense silence greeted me when I entered the house, a row of grim-faced men, all solemn, standing in the foyer.

I paid attention to only one. “Where’s Christoph Junior?” I asked Sandu.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I called him after you, but I didn’t get an answer.”

“Try again,” I said.

Then I went to the old man’s office—Christoph Junior’s office now. It should have felt different now, but it didn’t. I could imagine Christoph Senior walking through the door, setting me to work on one task or another.

But that wouldn’t happen ever again, and though I’d thought I was prepared, the clench in my chest told me I hadn’t been.

“Anton,” Sandu whispered.

I turned, looked at him questioningly.

“Mrs. Constantin asked me to send you to her when you arrived. She’s in his room.”

I nodded, and after a moment, I headed down the hall, wondering at this development. That wonder kept me from reflecting on the oddness of it all, of how, even now, everyone kept up the ruse. Pretended I was only a trusted adviser. Nothing more.

I found Adela in the chair that she had spent so many hours in. But rather than holding Christoph’s increasingly frail hand in hers, she simply stroked the plain white sheets that covered the mattress.

“I changed the sheets after they came to get him,” she said, not bothering to look up. “I don’t know why, though. Doesn’t change anything.”

“Adela, I’m sorry,” I said.

She looked at me then, the puffy redness around her eyes the only hint that she’d been crying. Her poise shouldn’t have surprised me, though. And it didn’t, not really. I’d expected no less from her. For all her flaws, I knew she was one of the strongest of us, wouldn’t give in to hysterics, sully her or Christoph Senior’s reputations, even in her grief.

“Why are you sorry? Because he’s dead?” she asked.

“Yes. And I’m sorry that you’re hurting,” I said.

“What makes you think I am?”

“I know you, Adela. No matter what happened between you and him, I know you loved him. And he did as well.”

She lifted one corner of her mouth, as close to a smile as she would ever get. “You always were a very clever boy,” she said.

Then she stood, faced me. “He loved you most of all the boys, you know.”

There had been a time when hearing those words would have given me the validation I had sought for years, but now, they left me empty. All that I’d ever know of him, I knew, and all that he would ever say to me had been said. Everything else was of no consequence. “I didn’t. But I knew you always hated me.”

“I did,” she said with a slight nod. Then she glanced off, pulled her brows together. “Well, I didn’t hate you. Not entirely. I hated what you represented.”

“And what did I represent? His unfaithfulness?”

She laughed, the sound a tired snort and not one of humor. “You’re intelligent. Don’t pretend otherwise, Anton. It won’t work. At least not on me. No, unfaithfulness was never my concern. He loved me in the way he knew how, and I did the same. Nothing so meaningless as…sex could come between us.”

“So why, Adela?” I found myself asking.

For years, I had imagined this moment, dreamed of finally getting the truth from her, but now that I confronted it, I realized what I felt was a vague curiosity, not the burning wonder that had propelled me for years. It seemed so small now, so insignificant. Especially when I thought of Lily, and of the things she made me feel.

“Every time I looked at you, I saw how Christoph smiled at you when you weren’t looking, the way his chest expanded with his pride when he spoke of you. Each was a little tiny reminder that our boys—my boys—would never measure up. And you, you were of him. Him and someone else. So my boys, their disappointments, were my fault. What else could it be? There was only one answer with you here, the cruelest reminder that another woman had given him the only son worthy of carrying his name.”

“Adela…”

She shook her head. “Don’t be patronizing either. I know—knew—my sons. Petey, so sweet, so stupid and weak. And Christoph Junior. That name was a curse, one that he can never live up to.”

“The old man taught him, gave him everything he needs to succeed. He’ll be fine and I’ll be right next to him.”

“For how long?”

I frowned. “Forever. I swore it.”

“You’ll try, but will he? You’ve seen it too, even if you want to pretend. Seen the jealousy that eats at him, how much he resents you. It won’t be long, Anton. You should leave. Take her and go.”

There was no doubt which “her” Adela spoke of, and even that glancing reference was enough to intensify the tightness in my chest.

“There’s no her, Adela,” I said, immediately regretting the way I’d snapped at her.

“She’s done something?”

“It’s not important,” I said.

“It is. Whatever she did, forgive her and leave. Live the life your father would have wanted you to have.”

I met her gaze, saw a fervor there and something that bordered on affection.

“It’s not possible. My family is here. My clan is here.”

“Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought,” she said.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” I asked.

“No. I won’t waste my breath. What happened, happened. I can’t change it, don’t know that I would if I could. But I know he loved you. And he would want you to live. I’m doing what I can to see that happens.”

“Adela, I…”

“Just think about it, Anton. You and her, you could have a life away from this. Don’t throw that away. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to rest. There’ll be visitors in the morning,” she said.

Then she left, and I was alone in the room.

I stood, searching for some hint of him, some reminder that he’d been there, some definitive proof that he was gone.

But there was only silence. Emptiness.

Then I caught sight of something and walked over to it. I picked up the metal box, the one where Lily kept her tea, its weight in my hands heavy, the closeness, the need I still felt for her feeling like the only real thing in the world.

Insanity was the only explanation. I knew what she’d tried to do, what she would have done, but I still needed her.

I’d get over it, though.

“Sandu,” I called as I headed back down the hall, “have you found Christoph Junior?”

“No, he’s not answering. I don’t know where he is,” he said, shaking his head.

A sickening realization hit me in a flash. I’d told Lily that Clan Constantin had played no role in her brother’s injury. But I’d been wrong. Christoph Senior would never have been so messy, left a task incomplete. But his son…

I was in the car and headed to her, moving as fast as I possibly could.

L
ily

T
he irony
of this situation was not lost on me, and it was only the fact that my heart felt as if it had broken in two that kept me from laughing. I had dreamed of this moment, fantasized about it, me and Christoph Constantin alone. Except he was the wrong Christoph, and I wasn’t the old Lily.

Now that I was here, this dream scenario come to pass, it only filled me with sadness. Reminded me of all that my quest had cost me.

And sparked a new thought, one that I cursed myself for never having considered before, too blinded by my own fervor to see what was right in front of my face.

Christoph Junior stepped forward, and on instinct I moved back. When he closed the door, I felt a flicker of worry, but it was swallowed by rage and sadness. Why should I worry? What else did I have to lose? I would never see Anton again, would never live the life that would have been possible for us, and I didn’t have the strength to start over.

I had nothing.

“What do you want, Christoph?” I asked, bitterness and scorn making my voice thick.

He scratched his face, but didn’t say anything, instead looking around the apartment.

“I thought Anton would take better care of his woman,” he said, turning to face me.

“Maybe he does. You should ask her,” I said, the idea of Anton with someone else turning the words to ash in my throat. But I’d have to get used to the idea, prayed that I would. Eventually.

He smiled, as much proof as anything that I had let my mouth get away from me. “So that’s not you?”

“What do you want, Christoph?”

I kept my eyes on him, somehow managed to keep from crossing my arms across my chest. I had spent years trying to worm my way in, focusing my life on getting close to his father. But now, face-to-face with Christoph Junior, I didn’t have the energy to maintain the mask.

“Why aren’t you with Father?” he asked.

“I’m no longer his nurse. I’m sure you’ll find someone suitable to replace me.”

“You’ve seen him. I don’t think he’ll need a nurse for too much longer,” he said nonchalantly.

“Sorry you’re so broken up about your father’s impending demise,” I replied, disgusted but somehow not surprised by how uncaring he seemed.

He just smiled, shook his head. “Circle of life and all that. Besides, my father was never sentimental. Except with Anton. Is he the one who suggested you move on?”

I saw no reason to lie. “He thought it would be better if I found something else,” I said blandly.

“That’s a surprise. But I suppose he got what he was looking for. It’s for the best, anyway. This life isn’t for everyone. He probably did you a favor.”

“What life?” I asked, the last few shreds of common sense leaving me.

He just smirked. “You’re not very good at playing stupid, Lily.”

It was the first time he had said my name, and I hated it instantly, his voice reminiscent of Anton’s, but rather than the joy his had come to fill me with, the sound of my name on Christoph’s lips made me shudder with revulsion.

Biting back the bile that threatened to choke me, I said, “I’m in a bit of a hurry. Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Constantin?”

“No. I actually came to do something for you.”

I tilted my head, gestured for him to continue.

“There was a certain responsibility that came with your position. I assume you were aware of that.”

I said nothing, and long moments stretched between us. Then, all of a sudden, Christoph’s facade dropped completely. “Anton likes you, or liked you, so I was trying to be nice. But if you’re not interested in that, I’ll cut to the chase.”

“Please do,” I said.

“Watch your mouth, bitch. I’m not as nice as him.”

“You were cutting to the chase,” I said, some wild, reckless thing pushing me to speak when reason said I should be quiet.

He was on me in a flash, hands tight around my arms, squeezing my flesh in a punishing hold. The bite of pain made me want to cry out, but pride kept me silent.

“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” he said on a low, almost animalistic growl, flecks of spittle spraying my face.

“I have some idea,” I said, my own voice equally low, equally animalistic.

He narrowed his eyes, gaze searching my face as if looking for something. “Who are you?” he said, punctuating the question with an even tighter grip.

“You don’t recognize me?”

“Should I?”

“I guess not. What about Braden? Would you recognize him? No. You wouldn’t. Not after the way you left him,” I said, tears of rage making my voice almost unintelligible.

He scratched his face, as if in deep thought. “Braden…?”

“Yes, Braden.”

I stared at him, saw the blank look on his face, and thought my heart would beat out of my chest.

“You don’t remember him? Not even after you left him to die?”

“Braden,” he said. Then, finally, realization sparked in his eyes. “I remember Braden now. He was beautiful, positively stunning. I used to think about him.”

“Used to…?” I asked, my mind unwilling to accept the words, his apparent lack of concern. My voice broke, the shock, his nonchalance, making it almost impossible for me to speak.

“Yeah. Shame how that ended.”

“Shame…?”

“Father was furious about that for months,” he said.

I wrenched away from his grasp, looked at him with my mouth hanging open. His eyes widened when he glanced to me, and then narrowed. “How do you know him?” he asked, going solemn in an instant.

“He is my brother, was my brother before you got your hands on him,” I said.

“He’s still alive?”

“No, not his mind. But his body is,” I said.

“Don’t speak in riddles!” he snapped.

“I can’t speak in anything else. You were the last one to see him. You were the one who broke him. You tell me, then, Christoph, what happened? How did my brother leave me alive and come back like he was? Why did you leave him to die?”

As I’d spoken, I’d stepped closer and closer and was now face-to-face with him, or as face-to-face as I could be given the difference in our heights. He shrank back, and for a fleeting moment something that could have been remorse crossed his face. But it was short-lived, maybe even something I’d imagined. Because in the next blink, his smug, self-satisfied, completely detached expression was back.

I thought I would faint from the force of my anger. I wanted to scratch my nails down his face. Gouge his eyes until they bled. Do something, anything, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I had suffered.

“He brought it on himself. He used to complain about how secretive we were. Used to talk about us being a real couple, being together.” Christoph Junior scoffed. “Like that was possible.”

“So you tried to kill him?” I asked on a whisper.

He tilted his head, looked at me as if I were a being from some other planet. “Do you have any idea what they would do to me if they knew?” He paused, shook his head. “No. You don’t. Your pretty little brain couldn’t even begin to imagine. But I could. So Braden was a risk I couldn’t afford. It was self-defense.”

“But I… You and…”

“I fight it, but sometimes I slip, as you saw. And someone has to clean that up, something you also saw.”

“All I saw was a coward too ashamed to accept himself, so he got rid of the evidence,” I said with disgust.

“No, what you saw, lovely, was just the tip of the iceberg. The way I take out the trash. Or should I say the way Anton takes out the trash. He’s very good at it.”

“So that’s why you’re here,” I said, realization again hitting me like a sledgehammer.

“I don’t leave loose ends anymore,” he said.

Then, with a speed and power that was so at odds with his usual self, he launched at me.

The shock of his attack was overcome by the air whooshing out of my lungs when I hit the floor. My head bounced, and instantly a ringing began in my ears, low, insistent, but taking a backseat to the vise that crushed my chest. He was heavy atop me, and made no attempt to spare me any of his weight, which further twisted the last breaths out of my lungs.

I squirmed beneath him, trying to throw him off, mind racing with the thought that I wouldn’t let him leave me like he had left Braden. So I pushed, twisted, clawed at anything I could find. I grabbed a handful of his hair, pulled with what strength I had until he yelped.

He smacked at my arms, the break giving me just enough time to breathe deep, gasping lungfuls of air.

But it was only temporary, and soon Christoph Junior had his hands wrapped tight around my neck.

“Anton’s going to feel so terrible that this happened to you. He’s so responsible for everyone, everything, and even after a few rolls with you, he’ll think it’s his job to protect you. So when they find you, a poor, innocent woman strangled in her home by some monster, it will destroy him.”

I would have marveled at his calm ordinarily, but right now, I was too preoccupied with fighting for breath, each tiny little burst of oxygen a lifeline that I grasped for with all my might. Pinpricks of light danced behind my eyes, the surest sign that I was losing this battle. My vision blurred, darkness dancing at the edge of my sight and threatening to overtake me.

If that happened, I wouldn’t wake up again. Would be like Braden, worse.

So I fought like my life depended on it, and it did.

I slapped at his thick wrists, tried to pry his fingers from around my throat, tried to kick, punch, fight.

It was fruitless.

I looked into Christoph Junior’s crazed eyes, saw the determination in them. Saw his satisfaction as he squeezed the life from me, as he heard the wheezy, choked breaths that got shorter and shorter. Saw how he smiled as my punches lost their strength and my body went still.