Chapter 28

Sadie

“ S adie?” Keelan called out through the bathroom door, giving it a light tap. “We gotta leave soon. You dressed yet?”

“Just give me a second,” I said, fixing my freshly curled hair in the mirror and grabbing a tube of lipstick from my new makeup bag. I applied the light pink-nude shade to my lips and pressed them together. After spraying some perfume I knew wouldn’t trigger Kee’s allergies, I took a second to admire the dress I picked out in the boutique on the Strip.

It was a deep-rose two-piece dress with long straps woven around my upper arms and neck into an elaborate halter. Although the neckline was a sweetheart design, accentuating my cleavage, it wasn’t low enough that I couldn’t move without my breasts spilling out. The top was above my belly button, and the skirt hung low on my hips, showing off the detailed lower half of my constellation tattoo. The dress also had gold-plated butterfly fasteners that flashed when I walked .

The outfit was gorgeous and very different from what I would typically wear. I was never allowed to stand out, and after I escaped, I tried even harder to be invisible. Giving myself another once over, I smiled at my reflection.

Tonight, I get to live a little.

With that, I opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Keelan had his phone pressed to his ear, and when he turned, his voice cut off mid-sentence. His sapphire eyes widened as he took in my appearance. I smirked and spun in a circle, showing off my curves and exposed skin. A wicked smile formed on those full lips, and my core pulsed. Keelan wore black pants, a black leather belt, and a cerulean blue button-down shirt that accentuated his lean body to mouthwatering perfection. His tattoos peeked out from his neck and hands, but he covered the rest.

He was dark and beautiful.

“Yeah?” Keelan said to whoever he was talking to on the phone. “No, I’m listening. Sorry, Aiden. We’ll be down in a few minutes,” Keelan said into the phone, eyes still on me.

He tapped the END button and put the phone in his pocket.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You … you’re breathtaking. I’ve never seen that shade of pink on you before. It … it suits you.”

I bit my bottom lip nervously, his compliment taking me aback. “Thank you,” I said, swallowing. Why was I feeling so nervous right now? “Um … so, this meeting. Do I have to sit and be silent, or do you need me to listen and contribute?”

The odd look on Keelan’s face left no doubt that my question had bothered him, but it was the truth. My dad rarely involved me in the business trade .

Most of the time, he’d order my mother to serve the men drinks if we hosted at our house or entertain the men’s wives while the men did business. For me, I was always told to stay silent and watch—learn—because a woman had to know her place unless she was doing something useful. What my father didn’t know was that I was a hell of a lot smarter than he gave me credit for. When he didn’t think I was paying attention … I was.

“Well, I’d prefer it if you weren’t involved at all. But just listen and learn. It’s been a while since you were involved in the coding stuff, right?”

“I haven’t tried to learn anything more since I was sixteen,” I replied, the bitterness of those lessons burning my tongue. My father would belittle me if I made any mistakes when working with the graphics in the software program and often compared me to Patrick during his criticism. When I was sixteen, Patrick stepped in and told Dad that since I was such a failure, it wasn’t worth teaching me anything and that he should focus on only Patrick’s skills.

What they didn’t realize, though, was that I never stopped learning, just in case I would have to use it to earn my freedom from my family someday.

“Don’t worry about it, princess,” Keelan said, taking my hand. “Maybe we’ll both learn something tonight.”

The elevator opened to the casino’s main floor, crowded with patrons, dealers, and drink servers. Keelan had to lean close to talk to me as we weaved through the throngs of people.

“The private room is just across the floor where my brothers are waiting inside. Don’t let what they say bother you. Behave.”

I answered with a nod.

The room was away from the main gambling floor, with a gold plaque that read “Red Ivy Suite – Private” attached to a solid, dark oak door.

Keelan opened the door and ushered me inside. The other Blake men were seated at a small, round table, flanking an older, paunchy man with a receding hairline. The man looked nervous, and I didn’t appreciate his lecherous stare once I was in the room. Keelan’s oldest brother, Aiden, smiled and stood, coming over to hug me. He looked so much like his mother, Evelyn. Same nose and brown, cat-like eyes. Unlike Keelan’s black hair, Aiden’s was lighter like his father’s, a chestnut brown with natural highlights. He had a larger build, and I could see he had put on more muscle since I last saw him.

“Sade! It’s so good to see you. You look beautiful, by the way,” he chirped. Logan had also stood, waiting to pull me into a hug, as well. Although Logan was ten years older than Keelan, they shared striking similarities in their jet-black hair, facial features, and build. The only real difference was that Logan inherited their mother’s dark eyes like Aiden had. Logan’s personality was more lethal than any of his siblings. If he felt he was being slighted, his attitude would flip on a dime. He would go from cheerful and charismatic to ice-cold and ruthless. He didn’t hesitate to unleash violence on anyone, even his own sister. Keelan told me once that he broke Logan’s left hand after he punched Mia on the arm for merely being in his space. He couldn’t work on his paintings, and Arthur was furious.

The two were much older than Keelan by over a decade. Keelan was considered the “surprise baby.” Sadly, Evelyn was killed in a car accident when Keelan was two years old. Arthur, not wanting to raise his sons alone, married Lily when Keelan was five. Two years later, Mia was born.

Keelan’s brothers were assholes just like their father, but they always treated me somewhat kindly growing up, even when they took part in bullying me.

“Oh, by the way, Sadie,” Aiden exclaimed, reaching into his coat pocket. “Logan and I got you a present.”

He pulled out a flat black box and handed it to me. Keelan’s nostrils flared, and I could see the veins in his neck twitching beneath his skin.

“It’s not from them,” Keelan said. The possessive anger rolled off him like thick smoke.

Aiden’s dark eyes started to twinkle. “Okay, fine. We did all the work, though.”

I narrowed my eyes at the box and noticed the company logo with the capital letter “B.”

Goddammit .

“Are you serious?” I asked, whipping around.

“I have to know where you are at all times, just in case you decide to impale my head and run off again.”

“Consider it a wedding present,” Aiden said.

Shooting a look at Keelan, I opened the box. Inside, on some white foam, was a delicate silver bracelet. The chain was so polished that the metal looked almost white in the light. Attached was a silver charm in the shape of the letter “B.” Small white gems were encrusted inside the charm.

The family business wasn’t all codes and art. The men treasured their women like they treasured jewels. They had to know when and where they were … for their protection. At least, that’s what the men told us. The little charm worked as a tracking mechanism. Only the device’s app could release it once it was snapped on.

I handed Keelan the box and held out my wrist. “Fine, put on the beautiful thing,” I said with a fake smirk. It was pointless arguing. Keelan would force it on me if I protested, and I really didn’t want to make a scene in the suite.

Both brothers exchanged a glance and chuckled quietly.

“Keelan, you better be taking good care of your wife. Now that you finally got her back, and she’s not running from you anymore,” Logan said with a playful smirk while clapping his brother on the back. “Or I’ll steal her right out from under you.”

“Shut the fuck up, or I’ll break your goddamn teeth on this table,” Keelan growled, snapping the chain together and meeting my eyes. “Sorry, babe.”

“I think you’ve forgotten who runs this family now, Kee,” Logan said, interrupting us. “You may have been locked up for the last twelve months, but one anonymous call to the feds, and we’ll take your little lady with us while they drag you back to the big house. Trust me, they won’t make whatever fucking mistake they did again that caused you to break free.”

“Well, this family reunion just got a lot less exciting,” I said, no longer wanting to be near them. “I’ll just sit over here. ”

I shuffled away from the two ice storm brothers and sat on the small red-gold loveseat, nervously fluffing out my skirt. Aiden noticed the movement and turned to the man seated at the table, who looked even more uncomfortable. He smiled and gestured for everyone to take a seat.

“Gentlemen,” he said, “Let’s get down to business. We shouldn’t keep Mr. Larkspur.”

The brothers nodded and took their seats. The meeting lasted about an hour, during which they taught their client how to manage the software, where to input the key, the location of assets, and other matters related to Larkspur’s racketeering business. My stomach roiled during the conversation. Too many memories of my dad’s meetings and lessons were rising to the surface.

“Alright, I watched the initial coding map live, so I didn’t have to leave my paperwork with Roberts. This is what you did with it, huh?”

Sam Roberts was my second cousin on my dad’s side. He and Patrick used similar tactics and styles for the graphics they created to help embed the code before they passed it on to an artist.

Aiden reached behind him and pulled out a large brown paper package. He handed it to Mr. Larkspur, who looked it over quizzically. “This is it?”

“That’s it. Take a look for yourself.”

Mr. Larkspur tore the top of the package off and pulled out a framed oil painting. He looked it over and let out a low whistle.

“You wanted an oil painting, so we gave you a replica of Di Paolo’s A Tuscan Moonlit Night. It’s in the patterns of the stars, Larkspur. Right there. ”

Logan ran his index finger over the details in the sky. It was beautiful. By looking at it, you’d never guess a hidden message was concealed inside.

“Let’s wrap this up,” he continued. “You can either take it with you now after we receive the remaining deposit or have us ship it to you. You can then hang your dirty little secrets on the mantle for your guests and family to admire.”

I looked a little closer at the landscape of the Tuscan countryside at the end of twilight, the moon’s glow filling the sky with hints of stars peeking over the green hills. I gasped at the swirls of color and the masterful execution of brush strokes in the piece. Even Keelan was shocked at the level of skill in the painting.

“Where’s the key phrase?” Mr. Larkspur asked.

Logan pointed to the stars in the painting. “All the key phrases are done in Morse code within the design. The rest you can’t see.”

Mr. Larkspur leaned forward and squinted his eyes at the painting. “Got it,” he said, but his tone was rife with doubt. “Are you sure?”

Logan let out a breath of annoyance and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “It’s in plain sight, Mr. Larkspur. After our associates from the Ryan family have compiled the information into the image, it’s sent to one of our studios or the tattoo shop. After that, we convert it into priceless works of art. Which you are now an owner of.” He pointed to the painting again. “Upload a photo of this into the software, enter the key, and your secrets and those you want to blackmail someday will be right before your eyes.”

“Aiden, you’ve gotten better,” I said, keeping my eye on the painting .

Keelan and his brothers were all equally gifted, but they still took on their own style. While Keelan and Gavin were tattoo artists, Aiden and Logan specialized in paintings or murals.

Sometimes, the secrets in the artwork were out in the open, in someone’s hallway, home, or business. The world never knew they carried the person’s deepest, darkest sins.

“Still not as good as my little brother. Right, Kee? Those tattoos you create are next level,” Aiden said.

“So, where is the code? I still don’t see anything in the stars,” Larkspur said. “This Morse code, you say.”

Aiden’s jaw tightened, and I could tell this old man was pissing him off. “Right there,” he said coolly. “The dashes and the dots. It’s the phrase you gave us over the secured line. Unless someone is looking for it, they won’t notice. The rest of it is called steganography. A series of small symbols embed the code into the medium, imperceptible to the naked eye.”

“It’s secure, Mr. Larkspur,” Logan jumped in. “There is no doubt in the Ryan family’s or mine’s work. Which you would be wise to never fucking talk about if you want to keep making your fortune.”

As if sensing the threat in Logan’s tone, the man smartly shut up about the painting. Twisting the fabric of my skirt in my fingers, my eyes stayed glued to the picture.

Once the men had exchanged paperwork, I stood and walked up to the painting. “May I?” I asked, and Mr. Larkspur nodded.

I leaned forward and looked at the details. It has been a while since I had seen Keelan’s brothers’ work. My eyes found the stars, and right before me was the Morse code, the only thing the naked eye could see from the image. The lines were clean, mixed in the sky’s dark blue, oranges, and reds. The man’s key phrase.

When our family started the business with the Blakes, Patrick suggested putting the key into the actual image just in case the client forgot it and wanted to keep that, too, a secret. But as I stared into the drawing, looking at the stars, dashes, and dots that connected them, my stomach tightened a little.

“So, Keelan,” Mr. Larkspur said, breaking my concentration. “You provide concealment in the form of tattooing. Tell me, how lucrative is that monetarily for your shop? That must be difficult, not only transferring an encoded design made by the Ryan family, but then detailing it onto someone’s skin.”

Keelan grinned, showing all his teeth—clearly showing a barely leashed temper. “Well, seeing how our shop is the most highly sought-after tattoo studio in Los Angeles, I’d say, quite lucrative. The design process is similar to my brothers’ work. I use the tattoo concept to conceal information, whether in the shading, colors, highlights, or even the line work itself. It’s the same ‘hide in plain sight’ concept that my family specializes in. My cousin and I hide them on the skin. People pay a lot of money to hide their crimes. If they’re ready to die with them, they can burn their own fucking body.”

As Keelan continued to explain his art, my gaze turned from the stars on the painting and dropped to my dress, where some of my constellation tattoos peeked out from the skirt’s waistband. As much as I hated the circumstances, I really did love this tattoo. It molded to my body so perfectly that you’d think I was born with it on my skin. However, as my eyes found the constellations, I stilled. Something I hadn’t noticed before until I had focused intently on it as I did with the painting. It was similar in the strokes of the lines and the points under each star. When the connection clicked, my heart stopped, and shock gripped me.

No. No, Keelan wouldn’t have. No way. There, right into the lines of the stars and the blended colors that connected them, was a design similar to the painting before me.

There was Morse code on my body.

My vision tunneled, and my heart pounded against my ribcage. Keelan tattooed a code onto my body, concealed within the stars. I stepped back until my heel hit the chair, and I sat back down, careful not to draw Keelan’s attention.

I looked again.

Jesus. What the fuck is going on?

“Sadie, is everything alright?” Keelan’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I lifted my head. His face was calm, but I could see concern and confusion in his eyes. I schooled my panic and smiled at him.

“Of course. I was just lost in thought. Sorry,” I replied, hoping my calm tone was convincing enough.

Now is not the time to lose your shit, Sadie. Wait until after the meeting and when his brothers leave. Then force the truth out of him.

Another thirty minutes passed before the meeting finally concluded. Mr. Larkspur handed Aiden a small suitcase, which I assumed contained payment for the canvas. They exchanged handshakes, and Mr. Larkspur departed with his priceless artwork tucked under his arm.

By the time we left the room and made our way to the gambling area of the casino, my hands were shaking. It felt like all the air in my lungs was a vortex of ice and fire, crushing me with every step .

“Well, another crooked soul in our clutches. Eh, boys?” Logan said. “Aiden and I have to call Dad and report him on the transaction. Do you two want to meet for dinner in two hours? I know a fantastic steakhouse a few blocks up the Strip. I always crave a bloody steak after I take a pound of flesh.”

Keelan, still eyeing me suspiciously, nodded. “Ya, just shoot me a text when it’s time to go. Sadie and I’ll grab a drink and then hang out in the room for a bit.”

The brothers nodded and disappeared into the crowd. Keelan’s hand wrapped around my arm and yanked me behind a nearby pillar, concealing us.

“You wanna explain what your deal is, princess?” he asked.

“My deal? My fucking deal,” I hissed, anger and betrayal in every word before I poked my belly right over one of the stars. “Morse code? Really? You branded me with a goddamn code? I made quite an effort not to stare too long at this design after I escaped to Vermont. If I had looked at it long enough, I would have recognized the pattern.” I shook my head. “This entire time? God, I’m such a fool not to have thought you would have done something like this. This entire time!” I took a step toward him, closing the gap between us. “Is this why you wanted me to come along for a ride?”

My voice was cold, rasping with outrage, terror, and betrayal as I hissed the words. Keelan’s irritation melted into shock and what looked like guilt. He reached for me, but I smacked his hand away.

“How could you do something like this to me?” I asked, tears forcing themselves into my eyes. “Does this have to do with the lockbox? You said that Patrick left something behind, and you needed to find it, right? I don’t understand. Why is this on me? ”

“Sadie, I had planned to tell you once we arrived—” When Keelan reached for me again, I slapped him across the face as hard as I could.

Fuck, that stung.

“Don’t touch me,” I said, stepping back. “I need a goddamn drink.”

I spun on my heel and charged onto the gambling floor, my skirt billowing behind me as I walked. Several men ogled me as I walked by, and one hollered for my asking rate. I lifted my hand, flipped the man the bird, and kept walking.

Fucking pigs.

When I reached the packed bar area, a woman with black hair and dressed in a simple tuxedo approached me. “What can I get for you, Pretty in Pink?” she said.

Despite my heated temper, I smiled at the nickname. “One shot of tequila, please. Top shelf.”

“Do you have a room number, or would you like to pay here?”

“Please bill to 255.”

“Coming right up, sweetie,” the woman said, disappearing down to the bar’s end and pulling out a step stool. As she fetched my drink, my mind played out everything since Keelan kidnapped me from Vermont. The vague hints, the lockbox, Patrick’s death, and why we had to return to Los Angeles with me on his arm. I clenched my hands into fists, and a heat crawled up my neck.

It’s all within this tattoo. It’s been under my nose, literally, for over a year.

“Here you go, hun. Enjoy,” the bartender said, sliding a shot glass of golden liquid toward me. I picked up the ice-cold glass and lifted it to my lips. The icy burn of the tequila flowed over my tongue before igniting a fire in my throat and stomach. While the taste was smooth, I still winced. The alcohol was a balm for the anger I was feeling, and I took a deep breath, allowing myself to think rationally.

I was so determined to move away from my family name that I barely acknowledged anything connected to it. After everything that had happened over the last year, I didn’t want to see the tattoo as anything more than a soured memory. “I have been a goddamn fool for too long,” I murmured, my voice lost in the din of people around me.

Keelan will never be the good man I hoped he would become. His being all sweet this last week was just a glimmer in black ink. He will lie, steal, and kill as he sees fit. This tattoo was put on me for a reason. That son of a bitch is going to tell me why.

Clearly, it had something to do with this lockbox. What else could it be?

I pushed off the bar and walked back to where I left Keelan. He was leaning against the same pillar, one hand in his pocket, the other rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Even through all the anger coursing through my blood, I could never deny how beautiful that man was.

Ignoring my pang of conflicting emotions, I grabbed his arm and yanked him toward me. Feeling reckless, I grabbed his jaw with my other hand and forced him to look me in the eye. “You are going to explain everything to me, Keelan Blake. Right. Now.”