The Deadliest Sin Series Complete Collection, page 99
I throw the van into park and quickly climb from the driver's seat. The buildings on this stretch of the street still block the early morning light, casting the sidewalk in almost total darkness.
Perfect for my plan.
Though, even if anyone did see me, they’d be foolish to intercede. It would be pointless, anyway. What’s done is done. All that’s left is to leave the gift and invitation for Rowan’s brother.
I pull open the panel door, my eyes falling on the man. A grin tugs at my lips. Doing the dirty work myself has felt better than I ever imagined. Andres probably thought I wouldn't be up to it, that I wouldn't be able to stomach what he has done for the cartel for so many years, but he forgets who he's dealing with. He forgets what I'm capable of and what I did as a child while he was still spending his days and nights in that church, praying for my eternal soul.
Wearing the collar never changed who I am, and he needs to remember that. No one else will make the mistake he did by underestimating me again. Especially not Galen.
Certainly not if he wants any sort of relationship with his sister. If he tries to distance her from me, tries to get in between us in any way, I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger the way he did.
If the roles had been reversed, I would have ended things before he ever touched Sofia, before he had a chance to leave with her. But he’s shown his weakness where Rowan’s concerned. He couldn’t hurt me because he knew it would hurt her, that she would never forgive him for it.
I won’t have that weakness.
Rowan will be angry if I have to act, if he doesn’t fall in line and I need to take him out, but anger fades and forgiveness is the greatest virtue. Something I may not believe, but she certainly seems to give the Word more weight than I ever have. It may take a lifetime for her to forgive me, but she will when she sees it’s all to protect her. If Galen were to side with Andres, he would be putting his own sister in the crossfire. Taking him out protects her as much as it assures the success of my end goals.
And that all starts with the meeting. It’s time to deliver the final invite. The moment Andres sent that man into the church after me, he started the ball rolling, initiated a cataclysm that can’t be stopped. Like putting a flame to gasoline, this inferno can’t be quenched.
The time for regret and second-guessing has long since passed. I’ve given him every opportunity to step down, to do what is right. Now, it’s time to do what I must.
I grab my cargo from the back of the van and drag it out onto the street in front of the bar, scanning my surroundings to ensure there aren't any witnesses. At this time of day, the neighborhood is quiet. People are asleep, nestled snugly in their beds, oblivious to what is happening on the street just outside.
Though many around here wouldn’t even bat an eyelash if they saw me. After living with Galen in control for so long, they know better than to ask questions that might invite the scrutiny of Chicago’s finest. A body on the sidewalk won’t even draw a second look—except from the man it’s intended for.
Blood streaks the sidewalk where I drag him across it, a crimson path of destruction that is only the beginning should Galen choose to side with Andres.
While my dear brother may have been the one who gave this organization its name, he doesn’t have the callous heart to finish what he started. When it comes down to it, if we stood face to face, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—pull the trigger.
I’m counting on that.
I set the body directly in front of the door, turning the man’s head to expose the slit throat. Sticky blood runs down his neck and soaks the front of his shirt where the other slashes of my knife easily sliced through the fabric and flesh. A simple gunshot wouldn’t have been sufficient. This tells Galen and the others that I prefer things up close and personal, that I won’t hang back in the shadows and shoot like some sniper picking them off one by one.
When I take them out, I’ll do it face to face and mercilessly.
The body perfectly placed, I return to retrieve the final element of my invitation from the van and place it against his chest. The bloody rose with the simple piece of paper stating the time and location should be a crystal-clear message to Galen and the others for whom I’ve already done the same.
This is happening and their attendance is required. Otherwise, they can expect more of this—their men slaughtered.
I can get to any of them anytime. Now, they know.
And I know where I have to go.
Though there are a hundred other things I should be doing to prepare for the meeting and my next steps, my heart pulls me in a different direction than my head—straight back to Rowan before she wakes and realizes I was ever gone.
Andres started this war, but it's time for me to respond in a way that leaves no question in anyone's mind what and who they're up against.
Time for them to meet the real Rose.
FELIPE
The last time the Chicago controlling families gathered together in one place, all hell broke loose. People lost their lives. Galen and Sofia ended up with permanent reminders of the blast. The shock wave was felt for months. Of course, that was because of Kat, because of her desire for revenge against Michael for Aleksander’s death. But frankly, something would have exploded anyway with Andres stirring up shit in defiance of me.
We had a plan. A long-term one for domination of the Midwest and beyond. His impatience and arrogance have forced me to speed it up far more than what I’m comfortable with. I have other chess pieces on the board that I haven’t been able to move into position yet.
Rowan was only the beginning of what should have been a meticulous process of gaining support for my position, but tonight, I make my move. I find out whether all the work I've done and everything I've sacrificed will be for naught or if I'll get what I've always wanted despite the condensed timeline.
I climb from my car, out into the light drizzle falling, and turn my face up to it. I've never particularly enjoyed the rain, but tonight, it almost feels like a cleansing, like a rebirth, a third baptism. Like I’m washing away Father Felipe to truly, finally become Rose in every way that was originally intended when we made our pact and switched lives twenty years ago.
Yet, I can’t regret anything that brought me to this point, not now that I’ve found Rowan and know that she’ll be at my side whatever the future holds. And while walking in here alone to expose the truth and draw a line for the rest of the families is a calculated risk, it's one I need to make.
The point has come where I can't trust anyone anymore. I can no longer be certain they'll be able to accomplish the tasks I set out for them. My men have failed me over and over again, but even worse, Andres has betrayed me.
So, no bodyguards. No backup. The best protection I have is myself. Tonight, I'm going to use all the skills I learned preaching to a congregation in order to align the families on my side of the Blood Rose Cartel war.
I slowly make my way up to the building I chose for this little meeting and grin, staring up at its familiar facade.
St. Mary of the Angels has been my home since I arrived in Chicago. It’s where I brought Rowan to keep her safe and end her having to work as a whore for Kat. It’s where she fell in love with me and where I became confident I couldn’t live without her.
By this time at night, the parishioners will be long gone, Sister Agnes will be asleep and locked away in her quarters, and any priest who is filling in for me will have returned to his home parish elsewhere in the diocese.
The church should be deserted. It’s a place everyone can feel safe—neutral ground for what could turn into a bloodbath elsewhere.
I pull the key from my pocket and unlock the door to step inside a place I had hoped I would never have to enter again. If things had gone as planned, Andres would be here, he would be Father Felipe, and this entire meeting would be unnecessary. I could make my way across Chicago, eliminating my competition and expanding the Blood Rose Cartel territory to include the entire area and beyond. Instead, I’m forced to partner with my enemies against the one person who should be unwavering in his loyalty.
But dwelling on what should have been will only get in the way of what will be. What I will ensure will happen at this meeting tonight. Because failure isn’t an option. It never has been.
Moving through the vestibule where I once greeted members of the congregation after mass, I push those memories of living a life that wasn’t mine aside. The moment Andres sent a man after me in my own church, he committed the ultimate sin of pride in the house of God by trying to take me out so he could be the sole Rose.
Once in the nave, the candles burning in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary draw me toward them, the only light in the space aside from a few dim overhead bulbs Sister Agnes leaves on.
The namesake of the church stares down at me from beneath her pale plaster veil, her arms open, hands extended, almost as if offering a hug to anyone standing before her.
How ironic.
The last time I stood here, the vestments and white collar hid who and what I really was, but now, in only a few minutes, I’ll come clean, confess my sins and my identity to the most dangerous people in Chicago. No amount of praying to the Virgin Mother or falling into her sympathetic arms will cleanse any of the souls here tonight.
Turning my back to her, I make my way up the steps to the altar and move behind the lectern to await the rest of the attendees. Some people might be nervous standing here with the uncertainty about to walk through the doors, but I’ve waited so long for this that it’s more anticipation than anything.
Mi tiempo ha llegado.
So has Valerian. He steps through the front doors of the church, his wide shoulders stiff, with one of his men on either side of him.
Raising my hands, I offer him a smile. “Valerian, thank you for coming.” As he slowly approaches, I motion toward one of the pews. “I would ask that your men wait either outside or in the vestibule at the rear of church, as the conversations we are going to have are not for their ears.”
Decisions will be made tonight. Secrets revealed. It’s bad enough that it’s necessary to do it for the heads of the other families, I have no intention of letting their underlings in on the deep workings of the cartel.
Valerian holds his hard glare on me for a moment before he motions backward and his men slowly slink away, but the head of the Bratva in Chicago doesn’t accept my invitation to sit. Instead, he stands in the middle of the central aisle and crosses his arms over his chest. “Galen told me what you did.”
“And how thankful he was that I located his sister?”
“Thankful isn't the word that I would use to describe it. That's pretty low, even for you, Rose, to use her as a way to get to Galen.”
“Like you wouldn't have done the same thing?” I raise an eyebrow at him.
His stony facade cracks slightly, but he remains stoically silent.
“Let’s not pretend that any one of us wouldn't have done the same thing. Because we all know that would be a lie. If any of you got your hands on my sister, wouldn't you try to use her as a bargaining chip?”
It's exactly the worry I've had since she disappeared. Not only is Sofia out there alone after having Andres’ and my protection her entire life, but she’s also a tremendous source of information on the organization should anyone locate her.
Valerian offers a sardonic laugh. “Fair enough. Why did you want this meeting?”
I spread out my hands. “Let's wait until all parties arrive before we get down to business.”
This isn’t something I want to repeat, and the Good Lord knows that tempers may flare when the secrets we’ve been holding are revealed.
The rear door opens again, and Galen enters with a very annoyed looking Cutter Jackson hot on his heels.
“Gentlemen, welcome! Is Miss Marconi joining us this evening?”
Cutter clenches his jaw and stops midway up the aisle, the aviators still covering his eyes despite the darkness in the church. “I speak for the Marconis.”
It certainly isn't ideal having him here instead of Valentina, but Cutter knows her positions as well as anyone, and he also knows his place. If she has given him any instructions about this meeting, then he's likely to comply with them.
Galen steps up beside Valerian and scowls at me. “You didn't bring my sister as a hostage tonight?”
I chuckle and shake my head, crossing my hands behind my back. “You think so little of me. Do you really believe your sister would be with me if I was so horrible?”
He twists his lips and sinks himself into one of the pews, exchanging a look with Valerian. “Where's Kat? The only reason I'm here is because you said she would be, and I have a bone to pick with her.” He motions toward his Russian counterpart. “We both do.”
I hold up my hands. “There will be no violence tonight. Not in this space, not the house of God.”
Cutter barks out a laugh that echoes around the place ominously as he approaches the altar. “What do you care about what happens in a church, aside from your brother having to clean up the mess tomorrow? This is his parish, isn't it?”
I can't stop the grin from spreading across my face. Even with the knowledge that Rose has a brother who is a priest, no one suspects the truth. No one can conceive of the fact that things are not what they appear.
“He doesn't care. Don't think that he does.”
FELIPE
Kat makes her way down the aisle, her stilettoes clicking against the marble with each determined step she takes, her statement still reverberating through the high rafters. Genti stands near the doors, his jaw set hard, obviously perturbed by the fact that she left him there.
She offers me a cool smile and pauses when she reaches the front of the church. The woman issued a violent attack on both the Irish and Russians only weeks ago, but she seems indifferent to the fact that the two men she stands next to want her dead.
Cutter remains silent and lowers himself into a pew, almost like he’s settling back to watch a movie instead of real life unfold in front of him.
“Kat…” I smile at her, unconcerned with her comment or the implications of it. Soon, everyone will know the truth, anyway. “How good of you to join us.”
Valerian and Galen glare at her, their ire stiffening their shoulders, but they’re both smart enough not to lash out at her here. If they do, they will never get back what she stole from them and might not walk out alive.
She sweeps her hand out and smirks. “Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world.” Her gaze locks with those of the other three men. “The man standing in front of you doesn't give a shit about what happens to this church, or the people in it. The only thing he cares about is getting what he wants.”
“Which is?” Valerian returns his attention to me. “Now that we're all here, why don't you tell us what the hell this is all about?”
“Gladly.” I hold out my hands, motioning to the surrounding building. “I've spent two decades working for this day, and now that it has finally come, it almost feels…surreal.”
Galen sneers. “What day is that?”
“The one where I take what is rightfully mine.”
Cutter pushes to his feet. “What the hell do you think that is? Chicago?” He snorts and shakes his head. “This city has belonged to the Irish, the Russians, and the Italians almost since its founding.” He motions toward Kat. “When the Albanians showed up, they pushed out smaller groups and made a name for themselves, and as long as they didn't interfere with our game, we let them have what they could take. Now the cartels are coming in and expecting us to just bow to them. It isn’t going to happen, Rose.”
I grin. “It already has, Mr. Jackson. I've seized control of most of the drug market for the Midwest by slowly eliminating my smaller competitors from Mexico and other regions. My ships move easily through the Great Lakes uninspected. Unlike my competitors, I didn't have to try to sneak my product across the border in drug mules or small vehicles. The sheer quantity of high-quality product I have at my disposal is beyond what you could possibly fathom.”
“Controlling the drug market doesn’t mean you have power over any of us, Rose.” Cutter crosses his arms over his chest and lets the heat of his shaded glare fall on me. “We've never been involved in the drug trade, and now that the deal you made with Valentina is over, we don’t care what you do as long as you stay out of our territory and it doesn’t affect any of our business.”
“Valentina never made a deal with him.” Andres’ assertion booms through the church, bringing an icy chill with it.
Everyone turns to look at him as he makes his way down the aisle. Confused eyes dart between the two of us as mumbled, “what the hells?” slip from my counterparts’ mouths.
Valerian’s brow furrows. “What the hell kind of game is this?”
Andres stops at the end of the aisle just before the steps leading up to the pulpit and altar, Kat at his left, Valerian, Galen, and Cutter to his right. “I feel slighted by the lack of invite to this meeting, hermano.”
His appearance here doesn’t surprise me, even though I never sent him an invitation. I knew Kat would tell him, just like she’s been informing him of everything else I said to her or have done since she waltzed into my office and pretended things were done between them.
She may be an excellent liar, but I know my brother, and like me, he wouldn’t let her walk away so easily. Even after she betrayed him to Valentina and Cutter. I’m certain he made her pay the price for that, but it never ended their relationship.
Any idiot could see the game she was playing. And I am no idiot.
“The invitation must have gotten lost in the mail, mi querido hermano.”
He barks out a laugh and turns toward the three men looking at him with raised brows. “I'm the man you've known as Rose for the past two years. This is my brother. Some of you might know him as Father Felipe of St. Mary of the Angels.”
