Episode 96

Episode 96

Whatever Will Be, Will Be

MADAM ALANA

"Diego? What are you doing here?" Christophe asked, clearly as shocked as I was to see the mafia boss in what was supposed to be our safe house.

"What?" He held out his hands and grinned like a maniac. "And let you have all the fun?"

I opened my mouth and then closed it, doing my best to compose myself.

"Fun? You think we're having fun? My wife and niece were kidnapped. Four of our guards killed in cold blood, for no other reason than they were assigned to protect us. Our home was shot at by, not one, but multiple snipers. We just spent the day in and out of the back of vehicles, our vision impaired and our bodies battered and bruised as we were tossed around like a box of rocks to an unknown location. And you think we're having fun? Are you insane?" Christophe roared, finally letting his rage explode.

Diego smiled manically. "Sounds like a regular day for me, amigo ."

"Jesus Christ…" Christophe blurted, his hands sliding into his messy hair as he closed his eyes and let out a deep groan.

"Are you not safe now?" Diego said nonchalantly as he walked over to the stove where his mother was cooking. He boldly stuck a finger into whatever sauce she had bubbling. Lightning fast, she struck his hand with a wooden spoon. He snatched his hand away and put the finger into his mouth, humming.

"?Ayeee, Mamá! Just a little taste…"

"No!" she snapped and pointed at the table, then spoke something in fiery Spanish.

Diego nodded and held up his hands in supplication. He proceeded to the opposite side of the room, where he pulled out a stack of plates from a cupboard and took them to the table.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Setting the table. Mamá says it's ready. Sit."

I let out a long sigh, my stomach twisting even though I was desperately hungry, not having eaten all day.

" Se?or Salazar, we need to talk about what's been happening and what to do moving forward," I started.

He waved his hand in the air like he was a butcher cutting sharply through bone and meat. "We break bread, enjoying what Mamá has graciously cooked for us, then we discuss business." His dark gaze sliced straight through any retort I may have had.

Christophe pulled out a chair, and I sat gently into it, my body aching with the effort. I needed a shower, a stiff drink, a massage, and a good night's sleep to recoup after the day we'd had. But more than that, I needed information.

A plan.

The only thing we had going in our favor was that we were alive, and the others had made it safely to Los Angeles, far away from Angus and his minions. For that small gift, I was grateful.

I sat numbly as I watched other individuals stroll into the kitchen. All seemed to be of Latino descent and male. Each individual that entered went straight to Mamá and kissed her cheek before approaching the table where they took their seats.

Diego helped his mother serve everyone a heaping plate filled with Mexican delights I hadn't sampled in years. Likely since the last time Christophe and I were vacationing in Cancun.

The plate was steaming with savory chunks of steak—or possibly pork—slathered in the most delicious smelling red sauce, Spanish rice, refried beans, and fresh tortillas rolled up and resting on top of the rice.

Christophe did not have to be told twice. My husband tore into his food with gusto, stuffing his mouth with meat while unrolling a tortilla and making a burrito with the beans and rice. He hummed around the second bite he'd shoveled in.

" Oh mon dieu, le paradis !" Oh my God, heaven! he moaned openly.

Mamá gifted him a huge smile before she went back to the stove and scooped up another heaping spoonful of the meat and sauce, then added it to Christophe's plate. He nodded and hummed, much the way an eager puppy would. The man was shameless when it came to his food.

I waited to eat until both Diego and Mamá were seated, he at the head of the table, she to his right. Something I found rather odd. He had his mother here cooking for what I guessed were his family or soldiers, but no woman.

"And where is Mrs. Salazar?" I asked, gesturing around the table filled with men, us, and Mamá.

Diego pointed at his mother and tipped his head in query.

"No, your wife. The mother of your children? Joel said you had a wife and children, oui ?" I asked, while spearing a chunk of meat and putting it into my mouth.

The flavors were extraordinary, bursting across my tongue. Famished, I chewed and swallowed quickly in order to get another scrumptious bite. " Ouah! " Wow, I gasped in disbelief. The meat was savory and melted in one's mouth like the finest filet mignon. It was smothered in the most delicious red sauce I'd ever experienced. I picked up my tortilla and slid it through the sauce, adding more of that incredible flavor to my second bite.

"My compliments to the chef." I nodded at Mamá, whose chest puffed with pride as she took in the eight of us at the table, hunkered down, focused solely on her impressive meal.

Diego grinned salaciously. "I have no wife, Madam. I had been in a relationship with a woman who blessed me with two princes and one princess."

"And where is she now?" I continued to eat, staring him down. If we were going to pretend that my world hadn't imploded, I was going to get as much information about the mysterious mafia boss as I could.

" Vaca inútil …" Useless cow, Mamá hissed under her breath. I didn't fully speak Spanish, but the words were similar in French. Apparently, Diego's mother wasn't fond of the mother of his children.

Diego chuckled then wiped his mouth and sat back in his chair. "I do not bring my children on dangerous missions, Madam."

I frowned. "And yet your mother is not exempt from this danger?"

He glanced at his Mamá. " No one tells Mamá what to do. She goes where she goes. Always her choice."

"And if your enemies were to find her amongst your hideouts?"

His nostrils flared. " Mamá was raised in the life. Her father led us, passed down from her grandfather, and his before that. I am her oldest son and took over the business when my father passed."

"I see. The family business."

His head dipped, and he smirked. " Sí, la familia lo es todo . Family is everything." He translated into English. "These"—he gestured around the table—"are my brothers. Some by name, all by blood ."

Based on that statement, I wasn't sure who was his actual biologic relation, and who fought and killed with him to earn the status of brother . Coming from a man like Diego Salazar, I didn't think the difference mattered.

The point was they were family .

Diego picked his silverware up once more and continued eating. Discussion over. I followed his lead, stuffing myself full of one of the best homemade meals of my life.

* * * *

When dinner was done, the four brothers picked up the plates and proceeded to clean the kitchen while Mamá called out orders in Spanish. They worked together like a well-oiled machine, each having their primary task and completing it efficiently.

"Come to my study," Diego instructed.

" Gracias, Mamá ," I dipped my head to the older woman as I passed.

I started to follow Diego and noticed Christophe stopped in front of Mamá . He reached for her hands and took them both within his own before he bowed. " Gracias . Dinner was exceptional."

Mamá preened under his praise before turning her head to the side and pointing at her cheek.

Christophe chuckled before he bent in half and dutifully kissed her cheek like the brothers had when they'd arrived.

" No te preocupes, te engordaré ," she said as she lightly smacked his cheek a couple times, then pointed at me. "?Demasiada flaca!" she tsked and shook her head.

"What did she say?" I asked as Christophe joined us.

Diego grinned. "She said she was going to fatten Christophe up and that you were too skinny."

"That's quite rude," I whispered.

Diego burst out laughing. "That's Mamá. You'll learn to love it."

I highly doubted that. I didn't plan on being here long enough to build a close relationship with the woman.

We followed Diego to a beautiful den that consisted of wall-to-wall books. A full library from floor to ceiling. A large cedar desk sat in the center. A single leather chair befitting a king sat on one side, two smaller leather chairs directly across from it.

"Have a seat," Diego said as he slumped into his own chair, kicking his feet up on one end of the desk.

Christophe held on to the back of one chair as I sat, then took the remaining seat.

Diego opened a wooden box and pulled out two cigars, passing one to Christophe, who took the item with glee. He offered me the other, but I shook my head. He shrugged and clipped the tip, then lit his stogie before passing both the cutter and the lighter to my husband, who repeated the process.

For a full thirty seconds, the two men puffed their cigars as though they didn't have a care in the world, while my insides were bursting with the desire to find a way out of our predicament with Angus. Still, I sat quietly. Having worked with powerful men from all walks of life, I learned quickly to be patient. Things were never solved with heightened emotions and knee-jerk reactions.

"Drink?" Diego lifted his chin toward a bar cart in the corner.

" Oui , thank you. I'll get it," I offered, needing to do something.

I went to the cart and poured three glasses of top shelf whiskey, passing out the two before I slammed my first glass in one go, hissing at the burn that scalded my throat. It wasn't the most ladylike thing to do, and something I normally would detest, but I needed the liquid courage more than I needed my next breath. I filled the glass with another two fingers of the glorious alcohol and went back to my seat.

Diego lifted his glass. "To taking down the enemy," he toasted.

We didn't clink his glass in cheers; this wasn't a party or a celebration. This was two people needing to figure out a way to survive, while the third laid out what he could offer by way of assistance. I just hoped the cost wouldn't be too high or something I wasn't willing to give.

" Se?or Salazar…" I started, unable to delay the inevitable any longer. Fear was like a rash I had no ointment for, itching and twitching along my skin, with no relief in sight.

"Diego," he corrected. "I think after what we've shared, we can go by first names… Alana ."

I let out a long, tortured breath. "Diego, we need your help."

"Have I not already fulfilled my marker by getting you out of a very sticky situation and bringing you to the safest home possible?"

I licked my lips. " Oui , and we are very grateful, but Angus will not stop. And you have yet to share all you know about the woman who hired you originally to destroy Maia's home and threaten her."

He puffed on his cigar, watching the smoke rise and waft around the ceiling.

"She is his daughter."

"The child he mentioned to me?" I recalled what he'd said during my kidnapping. That he'd lost ten years of his daughter's life when he went to jail for his part in Celine's death.

Diego nodded but gave no more.

"She would be around thirty now?" I tapped my chin.

" Sí, and she is a viper. She charms her prey while circling around them, cutting off their air before striking with her venomous bite," Diego grunted.

"She sounds awful." I bit down on my lip.

"Worse, she lies in wait for you, her hatred far surpassing that of her father's."

"But I don't even know her."

Diego's eyes flashed with something I couldn't name.

"Ah, but you do know her. She's been slinking around your extended family for quite a while, finding just the right moment to hurt you most, to take the killing bite."

"Who?"

"Her maiden name is Bianca Sokolov. You know her as Bianca Myers."

Christophe and I gasped at the same time. The revelation shocked me straight to my core. My entire body overheated instantly, sweat beading at my temples and behind my neck.

"You mean to tell me, the woman that was once Giovanni's fiancée, later Brenden's wife, is Angus Sokolov's biological daughter?" I gulped, my hands quaking.

So many things came together in a flood of information, pieces connecting left and right. "She worked for the attorney Falco & Myers used for their shared business for years. She dated Giovanni for a year and a half before she conned him into marrying her. Then she cheated on Giovanni with Brenden, one of my oldest friend's sons."

"And now she's carrying the heir to either the Falco dynasty or the Myers' fortune. If I didn't despise her father, I would tip my hat to her ruthlessness."

"We have to warn them!" I stood up, my drink splashing over the wooden desk as I quickly set the glass down. "Where's my phone…" I remembered leaving the traceless phone in my coat pocket when we entered the house. Inspector Moreau had given it to me since the authorities had taken our phones into evidence.

"It's too late," Diego frowned.

"What's too late?" I breathed.

"My sources looked into the connection between all of you. While you were kidnapped and dealing with Angus, your family was on the receiving end of Bianca's wrath. It is why I felt compelled to come to France."

I tightened both my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms as I imagined the worst… That Julianne and Brenden were dead. Possibly even Giovanni, though that was less likely. Gio was a force all unto himself.

"Tell me," I croaked. "Tell me everything."

For the next thirty minutes, my heart broke in half as I listened to Diego share the horror story of what had been happening in New York. Giovanni had been sexually assaulted, Bianca going to jail, only to be released on bail, now holed up in a cottage close to my home here in France. The last was the worst part. That Diego received word that the physical office of Falco & Myers had been bombed, while Gio, Julianne, and Brenden were still in it. Their medical status was listed as confidential, but Diego had his sources working on retrieving the information. We had no idea if they were alive or dead. He claimed he'd have more information in the morning.

I slumped back into the chair, no longer capable of holding myself up.

So much destruction and turmoil.

"This is all my fault…" I shook my head, my voice quivering.

"No." Christophe's voice grated, his tone raw and jagged. Suddenly, he was kneeling directly in front of me, his hands on my kneecaps, his eyes piercing straight into my soul. "This is all my fault, mon coeur ."

I closed my eyes, tears falling down my cheeks.

"No, it is ours. For taking over The Marriage Auction all those years ago."

It all started then. Thirty years ago. When I myself was a candidate in The Marriage Auction.

" Lo que será será ." Whatever will be, will be . Diego sang, sounding much like the song, his nonchalance grating on my last frayed nerve.

"That's easy for you to say, Diego, you have no skin in this game. You haven't even shared whether or not you will help us get through whatever this is and take down Angus for good," I spat, the ugliness inside of me spilling out into the beautiful room.

He grinned and puffed on his cigar, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary.

"I will help you take out Angus. But it will cost you a great deal and even more trust."

"Anything! We are desperate," Christophe demanded as he stood and faced the criminal that had somehow become…a friend.

"My first demand—we kill Angus. Do not kid yourself into believing he will go to jail and justice will be served. If I am involved, he will be dead, because for men like Angus and myself, it's kill or be killed. There is no justice ."

I swallowed back the bile gliding up my throat as the ramifications of our situation became brutally clear.

Christophe stood behind me and squeezed my shoulders. "This revenge of Angus' is ultimately my responsibility. It stems from my actions snitching on him to the authorities regarding his part in Celine's death. I will take his demise upon my heart and soul and wear it like a badge of honor!" Christophe sneered.

Diego lifted his chin, accepting Christophe's claim with an air of dignity.

"There's more," Diego issued. "When me and my men take him down, we will acquire his empire. When one giant falls, another rises to take his place."

"We don't care about his empire. I want nothing to do with the man," I added, and Christophe nodded.

"Good. The last thing I want, and this one is entirely on you… Madam Alana ," he spoke my title as though it were coated in velvet.

"Anything." I said the word but also feared what it might mean to a man like him.

"A bride."

"Excuse me?" I frowned, uncertain I'd heard him clearly. He couldn't possibly want me to match him with…

"I want a wife. A woman that can handle my unique lifestyle. A woman who will look the other way. A woman who will mother my three children as if they were her own. A woman who will take my name with pride and honor. A woman who will share my bed and only my bed… for life ."