Page 10 of Mafia Tales

He’s right to ask, of course. This stop makes little sense in the grand scheme of things and honestly isn’t necessary. Our Syndicate doesn’t operate this way. James and I have a complete plan and the contacts in place to shake down a location for all the associates for Marco and his organization. We don’t really need to make this stop first. I could send someone else to pick up Rowan and get her to safety. Just in case she’s a target.Coming in person is — unnecessary. However, I can’t seem to help myself.

The easy answer? The real answer — Rowan. I’m curious if she still has the same effect on me that she had six years ago. If she grew into the woman that I imagined she would. To walk away from her took everything that I had. Lillian had kept James captive for weeks until I bowed to her demands. Part of our agreement and truce had been that I’d break it off with Rowan, James would go free, and I’d move to Cloverdale and be in charge of operations there. Later, as years passed, and I proved myself, I think I could have come back for Rowan, but it seemed better and safer for all concerned if I left things alone. Besides, it wasn’t as if Rowan tried to contact me, either. Now that I knew she had been in Cloverdale, I can’t help but admit that it stung a little. Once I took over the Syndicate, it had crossed my mind more than once.

The photo of her brought it all back for me. I can’t help but want to see her up close again. To see if her red hair is still as vibrant in person, to see those freckles, to see if the sparkle in her eyes. To see the pout of her lips. At nineteen, she was a vision — just coming into her own. Now I imagine she’s grown into the sass of her youth.

“Rowan called, and I told her I’d come.” I look over at him, annoyed.

“We’re gathering intel too James, what else? Maybe she knows something. We’re here anyway.” I say with a grumble, throwing the car into park. James always catches me out on my shit. The barely concealed chuckle is all I need to hear to know that he isn’t buying it.

“Sure. Whatever you say, boss. Whatever you say.” James’ taunt is low and without malice as he pulls himself from the car. Suddenly the urge to punch him in the face like we did when we were pups is back in full force. If we weren’t in the middle of something I’d have him go a few rounds with me. Sparring has always been a great way for me to blow off some steam. Hopefully, there will be some actual fighting soon.

“Fuck off,” I say giving him a jostle as I pass, but James just laughs as I knew he would. He doesn’t hold any fond memories of the Picmond. I don’t blame him of course, especially of Lillian.

Rowan opens the door pointing a gun at us. My cock is immediately hard seeing her so fierce. She is even more beautiful than I remember. Her hair catches the sunlight like fire in auburn waves as it cascades down her back. Her delicate features combined with that piercing gaze that seems to have sharpened over the years gives her an air of fragility and resilience. Rowan’s jaw firms up as she takesthe two of us. She looks like has been working. Cleaning probably and crying. I’m an asshole who finds her attractive even now. Murder is a messy business. Lillian would have my head, but let’s be honest about things — she’s in no position anymore to stop me. My life has never had a place in it for things that are neat or tidy. Now that I’ve seen Rowan in the flesh again I don’t think I’ll be able to let her go.

It doesn’t take too long to convince her to let us in and for her to lower the weapon. She is all fire, and that just makes me want her more.

When we walk into the cottage, the carpet absorbs the sounds, muffling our footsteps and adding an eerie quality to the cottage. I don’t remember it seeming so silent, although perhaps it is the fact that a murder took place yesterday that is giving it that feel. Typically, scenes of murder don’t bother me, but this house has always given me the creeps. Rowan looks like she ate a lemon and it’s all I can do not to wink at her.

James moves past me efficiently, easing around Rowan and the edges of the walls, not even bothering to give her a single glance. She seems to sense not to ask James questions and holds her tongue. It is obvious where he is going. The living room–the murder scene. If there is anything to be found, it will be there. James maygive me a hard time about stopping, but he will make the most of our time here. If there is information to be found, then he will be expeditious in finding it. Supposedly, we know who the perpetrator is, but that doesn’t mean we won’t keep options open.

“So, thanks for coming.” The words are reluctant. Rowan moves behind us as if drawn along unintentionally. Her arms wrap around her body as if she can protect herself from the information we will find–from what we will see there. I don’t tell her I was on my way, regardless, but I’d bet that she knows that.

I do not blame her for despising me and being unsure of my motives. She has always been smart. I did leave without a word to her, not my finest moment. Rowan didn’t deserve that. I push those emotions aside and focus on the task at hand. While I will get justice for Lillian, business has come first for me for a long time. Emotions are things I have never really had time for.

Glancing at her, I watch James search through the shelves and drawers, I’m not sure what he is hoping to find. James and I have discussed a plan and the contacts of ours that we can push, but that doesn’t mean we won’t be thorough. Sebastian gave us some locations that we could hit where we might find our quarry. The likelihoodthat Lillian’s death is connected to Marco is extremely high, but it doesn’t hurt to double check. Plus, there might be something here that we can use. Or … someone. My eyes dart her way again, catching her staring at me.

James is a little heavy-handed as he rummages through the shelves, pulling out books and photographs. Putting my hands into my pockets, I lean casually against the edge of the door. “I’m glad you called me.” I was glad that she thought I would help. I’m sure she thought twice about it. Looking at her now chewing her thumb nail tells me she is regretting her choice already. Rowan is a petite little thing and her eyes spark at me from beneath her lashes.

Lillian’s life before I stepped up to lead the Syndicate is one I know only a little about, but I’ve heard rumors. She was involved in quite a lot of shady dealings. Coming from me — that says a lot. Her criminal organization before Rowan showed up was an “anything goes” sort of affair. She cheated, lied, and burned contacts regularly. It was only after she took guardianship of Rowan that it seemed like Lillian made changes for the better. She straightened out her business lists, made amends, paid off debts, and forged alliances. When I met Lillian, she had the Gallegos Syndicate in a solid place. People think criminals don’t have a code, but to operate in the underworld a code is even more important thanever. That said, I’m not sure you can leave that sort of bad business completely behind. Grudges are kept a long time. Perhaps someone had one. Certainly, I wanted to kill Lillian.

“Do you knowanythingabout who did this?” Rowan’s tone is angry, accusatory. It’s not really a question. She knew I’d know something when she called. Or, better yet, that I’d do something. She pushes a mass of her red curls from her face. “Anyone who might be responsible?”

“I have some suspicions,” I answer with a shrug, purposefully not giving her any information.

Rowan hesitates for a moment before answering, pulling her lip between her teeth, her eyes flickering over to meet mine.Witches and warlocks,it still turns me on when she does that.

“It’s about her previous business, right? The smuggling, right? I told her it would lead to trouble.” Her fingers twist a ring that is hung on a chain around her neck.

Twist, twist, spin.Twist, twist, spin. I watch her quietly for a few moments. She sighs. “I never thought that someone would kill her.” Her breath catches and her eyes look at me. “I reallythought she could handle herself if she needed to. Or that she’d have backup.” Her blue eyes have filled with tears now, glistening with the barely contained liquid on the edges of spiky dark red lashes. “She was good to me, Riven. She didn’t have to be.”

She’s even more beautiful when she cries. It is because of those last words I clear my throat awkwardly and offer, “I know Red. She took you in and gave you a home.” It was the home thing that Lillian did unequivocally that I had no argument with. She loved Rowan as if she were her own flesh and blood. Lillian was an interesting woman, cruel to the people that she worked for, putting them in untenable positions, but nobody can really fault her for wanting the very best for Rowan.

Clearing my throat, I pull my hands from my pockets and straighten away from the wall and refocus. “Did she ever have any visitors recently that you know of?” I ask, my voice careful. “Any threats? Do any business?” This last piece I’m particularly interested in, but I don’t explain. Rowan knew about most of Lillian’s illegal activities, but I was never sure to what extent. It had always been a topic that was better left alone. Rowan had been mostly innocent of the business.I had thought.Opening the door with a gun … maybe not so innocent anymore. Lillian had mentioned that she was going to get her some personal defense training.

"I moved to the city not too long ago so I’m not sure. I knew she turned the Syndicate over to you," she murmurs, her voice low. “She always tried to keep me out of it.” She lets the last bit of information go reluctantly. “I let her. Maybe she had someone that wanted to hit back at the business that had a grudge? I can’t think of anything else. Honestly, besides business and me I’m not sure Lillian had much of a life. When she got out, she seemed bored. I was a little worried she had gotten back into something. A side job of some kind. That’s why I came up.”

I nod, understanding. Lillian had always been a bit of a mystery to me, even when we were in business together, before Rowan, before James. What Rowan says makes sense to me. James holds up a photograph, his eyes narrowing. "What about him? Did you ever see him meeting with Lillian here at the cottage?" he asks Rowan, pointing to a man in the picture.

I move closer to get a better look, feeling Rowan shift into place behind me. The man in the photograph is about Lillian’s height, with his arm slung around her shoulder, dark brown hair that is cropped close to his head, but he’s wearing a large shit-eating smile. Everything in me freezes as I turn towards Rowan. Shit, I never really told James about the thing with Marco and Rowan.

"Umm," Rowan says, her voice barely a whisper. “Yeah, that’s Marco. He was a guard of Lillian’s when I first moved up here. There was an incident with him and I but Riven intervened.” Her eyes find mine. “He was disgusting.” Her voice is soft on the last.

That sums up Marco, but I didn’t realize that he had connected like this with Lillian. I look at the photograph, the arm casually over her shoulder. Marco is vile. A real sociopath. They obviously took this photo early on, but if he insinuated himself into Lillian’s life he did so deliberately. I feel a chill run down my spine. I’m not sure if it is because Marco is involved again in our lives or the thought of a time where Rowan was once at his mercy. What if I hadn’t been there in time? The thought is like a knife to my gut.

Marco is a shifter of a loose moral compass. Or rather no moral compass at all. I never would have thought Lillian would have been so foolish to hire such trash. Since he left Lillian, he’s sunk even deeper into the muck. Not that I expected much after his attack on an unprotected girl. Prior to his stint in prison, he was well-known for smuggling with no restraint. No code of any kind - children, women, death magic. For me, he is the worst sort of man. A predator who has given over to his nature at his core. Weak. After prison apparently, he left the forest for good and moved over the coastal area where he could plunder alittle more freely. The drug running there is a little less regulated—more to his liking.

“Well, that sounds like all of our information is tracking,” I say to James, my mind racing. “We need to check all our leads to find him and get this settled.” I’m more eager than ever to find Marco and rip his throat out.

---