Marcella sat on the comfortable lounge and watched the screen showing a large sprawling suburban house on the large block of land. It was no wonder Olivia wasn’t able to describe it accurately; it looked like many others in the same high-end suburb. Marcella sighed she knew it would be hours before the people they searched for would arrive at the house and then an hour more until the raid. Still, she couldn’t drag her eyes from the screen for more than a cursory glance around the room she had been left in since arriving onboard the massive yacht.
As soon as they’d boarded, she had been shown to a large stateroom and left alone. She didn’t think she’d been locked in, but she hadn’t tried the door. She had nowhere to go, and she didn’t feel like a prisoner but rather a business contact or something like that. As soon as the deed was done, they would go back to the mainland, and she would tell them where the original document was how they could retrieve it.
The sun slipped beneath the horizon for at least an hour or two although Marcella couldn’t be sure as they had taken everything from her that could be used to track her whereabouts and time. She laughed when she thought of her watch. It was just a simple no-frills time face with a leather band. She hadn’t even considered it as suspect when she had given up her phone to her hosts after making her one call to Gideon. It wasn’t like her apple watch where she could have had access to the outside world. The door opened, and she looked up as Bea entered the room, followed by two of her men. She looked concerned and frowned at Marcella before taking a seat nearby.
“It is perhaps time for a game of trust,” Bea said seriously. “It would seem your lover, Noah, and one of his cousins was at the Mindil Markets for our rendezvous even though your deviation to our plans had effectively cancelled it.”
“He could have been looking for me despite knowing I was already with you,” Marcella shrugged. “You weren’t there, so no harm was done. The raid will go ahead as planned I am certain.”
“We would have been as unconcerned as you appear to be had he not been shot while trying to make the rendezvous, with me,” Bea said without any emotion.
“No!” Marcella gasped. It wasn’t possible. Noah couldn’t have been shot not when she had left him to keep him away from danger and the people she was dealing with by herself. She stared at Bea in horror, unable to voice any of the emotions that rolled through her. The feelings settled in her chest and gut like jagged rocks as Bea watched her quietly before breaking the silence.
“It wasn’t my people who targeted him or the cousin who was with him,” she said in the same dispassionate voice. “We need you to relay that information to your people and assure them that the threat did not come from the Suebi who will still meet at Hermione’s tonight or us.”
“I need my phone,” Marcella squeaked out despite feeling like part of her was dying inside at the thought of Noah being dead or dying while she sat here in comfort. She looked at the screen of her phone when Bea placed it on the low table in front of the lounge she sat on. She doubted that Vivienne would still be with Gideon, all the women would have been squirrelled away somewhere for their protection if there had been a shooting. She looked at the other names she had to choose from and decided to call Gideon directly. If anything had happened to Noah, he would know, but would he blame her? Would he even answer her call? She dithered before pressing his name and lifting the phone to her ear.
“Speaker,” Bea snapped as it started to ring on the other end.
“Hello,” Gideon’s voice was wary, and he seemed to be walking while holding his phone.
“Gideon, it’s…” she cut off when he interrupted.
“Fuck! Marcie! Thank God, where are you?” Gideon asked.
“Out at sea,” she admitted to the furious look from Bea. “Gideon… Noah? Was he? Is he?” she couldn’t bring herself to complete the questions. “Gideon?” she asked again when he didn’t answer.
“I’m with him now, at the hospital,” Gideon said, “Just give me a minute, there is shit you don’t know, yet.”
“Gideon, I…” Marcella tried again, but there were only muffled sounds through the phone.
“Marcella? Tell me you’re okay?” Barked the strained voice of Noah after she had listened to another minute of hurrying feet and the rustle of fabric.
“Noah? Are you okay? You weren’t shot?” Marcella asked incredulously and looked at Bea, who narrowed her eyes at Marcella and the phone.
“Aww Kitten, it’s okay. It was just a graze, but it’s nice to know you care. Zan’s not in good shape though,” Noah told her. “You need to come back now. There are things you don’t know. Your Unc…,” he stopped as she cut him off.
“I can’t. I, well Bea, needs you to know that it wasn’t the Suebi who shot at you,” she said, taking the stare of Bea and giving it back. “I think they are worried your family will call off the raid because of the attack today.”
“We know it wasn’t the Suebi. The raid will go ahead with the local police and a small contingent of AFP from Queensland rather than here. We are going to deal with the man who hired the men who took shots at us, ourselves. There may be honour amongst thieves, but there is nothing like that amongst addicts,” he said seriously. “We have the two gunmen, their dealer and the man we believe paid them to shoot us this afternoon in custody but we don’t know that there aren’t more people out there searching for you, Kitten. You need to come back. Tell them where you put the original document and come back, the raid will happen regardless now.”
“She will be free to return, if that is what she wants, once we both have what we need,” Bea snapped and ended the call before Marcella could protest. “That was all we needed to know.” She stood and left the room, taking the phone with her.
Marcella let out a long breath. A graze? What the hell did that mean? He seemed okay, and Zanto, he was in bad shape? My God, who the hell would target them if not the Suebi? They hadn’t done anything wrong. And why did Noah seem so on edge when he said there were things she didn’t know? She was left with more questions than answers after her call, and an ache appeared in her chest that she couldn’t shift.
*****
Noah drew a steadying breath and nodded to his brother as he handed the phone back. He was elated that Marcella had called when she had heard that he was injured but the fact that he didn’t know where she was and couldn’t get to her sat heavily on him as he tried to clear his head for what he had to do now. He grimaced against the pain of his injury. He hadn’t wanted his thinking muddled by the pain relief Helena had offered him after the wound in his leg had been cleaned, stitched and dressed. He shouldn’t have left the hospital. He knew it, but with Gideon’s assurance that he wouldn’t let his brother out of his sight, Helena had reluctantly agreed as long as he used crutches and put no pressure on his leg or the stitches holding the large gash in his leg together.
The man he had come to see was delusional as far as anyone could tell. His hatred for the Zenati’s, in particular, Noah, seemed to come from nowhere. However, after speaking with Nathaniel, who had called him to let him know Oscar and Isadore had been informed and would be with him shortly, he had a better idea about why this man had come to their city. There was little Oscar could do that the Zenati weren’t already doing and it was not his city to be pushing the Gambaro’s agenda. Still, he and his men had been doing their own investigating quietly.
“Good evening, Mr Gambaro. I believe you have been asking for a lawyer?” Noah said casually. He tried not to limp as he entered the detainment room where Severino was being held trying to appear uninjured and unaffected by the attempt on his life.
“Doctor Gambaro,” the man corrected. “I requested my lawyer not some two-bit lawyer from this backwards town,” Severino said pompously and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m being held against my will with no legal representation provided. When my lawyer gets here, you will all regret treating a man of my standing this way.”
“You are far from home, Doctor Gambaro and as such are subject to the laws of our city where your name and reputation mean nothing. We have however notified our colleagues within the Gambaro family that we have detained you and they should be here shortly although your lawyer will take a few hours to fly so far out of his way. It’s a shame that Perth is so far away or I am sure we could get this cleared up sooner. Until their arrival, however, I am more than a capable lawyer and would be happy to stand in for your preferred man and liaise with him when he arrives if you like,” Noah said in the same casual tone as if it didn’t matter to him one way or another.
“I assure you I am content to wait for the Gambaro men,” Severino said in the same pompous tone.
“As you say, but just in case you change your mind, I will leave my card with you,” he slid his business card across the table. “I would hate not to offer my service to a member of my fiancé’s family. I’m sure Marcella would be most upset with me when she found out if I hadn’t.” The man tensed before Noah’s eyes and looked down at the card before a snarl tore from his throat and a feral grimace adorned his face.
“Problem?” Noah asked. “I thought you would be grateful for my help since we are to become family very soon.”
Severino took long minutes to pull himself together as Noah waited seemingly with infinite patience for him to speak even though every cell in his body wanted nothing more than to destroy this man for what he had put Marcella through.
“I don’t know who you are or why you are impersonating a dead man, but Marcella will return home. In chains, if necessary and she will face the punishment she so richly deserves for defying her elders,” Severino ground out between gritted teeth.
“Dead?” Noah patted his chest as if searching for a wound. “I assure you I am far from dead as is my cousin who was shot in front of me this afternoon. I don’t suppose you know anything about that seeing as you are under the mistaken belief that the inept gunmen killed me?” Noah asked in a stern voice, straightening in his chair and clinging to the remnants of the casual tone he had been using despite himself. “Of course, if you hire me as your lawyer, anything you do say or admit to would be held in the strictest confidentiality.”
“I have nothing more to say to you until my lawyer arrives,” Severino hissed.
“It’s your choice, but as I said I had to offer. I would hate for Marcella to think I wouldn’t help and respect a member of her family,” Noah shrugged. “Now if you will excuse me, my fiancé is concerned about the slight scrape I got today and wants me to rest. She’s an amazing woman. I understand your reluctance to let her go.”
“She will never be yours. She knows where she belongs, and it is not here with the cursed ones,” Severino growled.
While people had heard stories about the Zenati men, the truth of it was never part of the myth and legend that surrounded the idea of the family being cursed. They had a fearsome reputation even though not regarded as the strongest of families few would go head to head against them. Their colour was black for a reason and in times of battle their black standard with a single silver sword slashing across the middle-heralded death to those that saw it. There were the elite of physical combat and deception, and only the Battaglia came close with their warrior training. They were secretive though, and on the large stations where their children were raised, they learned what it meant to be Zenati from the earliest of ages.
“Oh? Does Olivia also know where she belongs, or are the cursed ones, good enough for her?” Noah asked in a biting tone.
“That girl is dead. She was a mistake that should never have been brought into this world, and now she is gone from it. The girl claiming to be her is nothing more than a liar and a fraud. There were only ever meant to be two. Still, the bitch who spawned Olivia hid her pregnancy from all but our mother, the biggest bitch of all. It was she who protected the woman and her daughters in those early days. Until she suffered the consequences of her actions,” he said as if it was natural to speak of the women in his family so disparagingly.
“Why only two when the Gambaro’s revere large families,” Noah asked curiously now that the man was talking and divulging elements of his family’s life.
“Two served our needs, had they been sons our needs would have differed,” he said with a shrug.
“Jessa has gone to the Farnese, and Marcella is engaged to me. Now you have none. Perhaps your plans for only two would have been better served by allowing more children,” Noah said in even tones. He wondered why this man seemed so proprietary over his nieces as if he had ownership of them somehow.
“Nunzio gave his away to save his skin. I will not be so generous with what belongs to me. Marcella will be returned to me whether she likes it or not. It is the way of our people,” he said with so much certainty that Noah just stared at the man.
“Nunzio gave Jessa away?” It was Orlando who had asked. Noah had forgotten that he had been standing in the background listening to all the details of their conversation. “Her father gave her to the Farnese man investigating him for his silence?”
“Why else would he give away such a beautifully broken woman?” Severino asked clearly confused by the question.
“Marcella is not broken,” Noah said, tilting his head.
“I know, and I have found myself enjoying her struggle against her fate. Yet she knows where she belongs and is drawn back to me time and again. It is a true aphrodisiac to see such a strong woman bend so far without breaking, but this time she will break because I tire of her games. She will lose the very people who keep her strong, and when that last ray of hope dwindles, she will break,” he said without a hint of guilt about what he was doing. “As tables men, I am sure you understand the thrill of breaking the woman you want so that they serve only you forsaking all others. Unfortunately, your man Noah got in the way, but that is dealt with now, and we must move on without all this petty finger-pointing. We are men of the tables, and the laws of the land don’t apply to us.”
Noah felt a steadying hand on his shoulder as he seethed at the incredulous things this man said. Orlando moved to sit in the chair beside Noah, keeping his hand on his shoulder.
“What do you mean she will lose the people that keep her strong?” Orlando asked.
“Marcella’s downfall was thinking she could save them all but she can’t. You know I should thank you, I suppose. Your interference in our family has saved us the bother of tying up so many loose ends. With her husband’s help, poor Jessa took her own life today, after being humiliated by the investigation into her family caused by the imposter you have fostered. The medical information I gave to the AFP today should ensure the imposter’s arrest and subsequent life imprisonment despite your brothers best efforts. The Aunt that Marcella had lived with died from wounds received when a home invasion went wrong before I left to come and retrieve her. The man she became engaged to here in your own city, the man you are pretending to be, died today in a drug deal gone wrong. It’s all so very tragic,” he said with mock sympathy. “As for her mother? No one can save her now.”
“Go tell X. Tell him to call his friends and find out if what he says is true,” Orlando said.
“You’re lawyers, and men of the tables, you can’t breach confidentiality,” he said smugly. “You said so yourself,” he pointed out to Noah, unconcerned by their apparent rage at his words.
“Noah is a lawyer, but you refused his services, so he owes you nothing. As for me, a man of the Tables? I’m your worst nightmare come to life, because it will be over my dead body and that of each of my brothers that Marcella ever returns to you,” Orlando announced in a cold-blooded hiss making the man in front of him flinch. “You sit tight and wait for your lawyer. You are going to need him because I don’t plan to let you out of this room or this city alive.” With that Orlando pushed a stunned and seething Noah from the room before he did something, they would all regret and locked the door behind them.
*****
Olivia looked up from where she had been telling the cobbled-together story of Marcella’s life, from what she now knew, in fairy tale form. Twelve black-suited men had burst through the door and were now spread out around the edges of the room surrounding the women.
“This doesn’t look good,” Beverly said just as her phone buzzed with a text.
Orlando: “If the AFP come for Olivia, hide her. Go to the cellar I have sent men to guard the women. There are multiple threats, and we need you all safe.”
Beverly quickly showed her phone to Emma, who took in the men around them. She then looked at Olivia who seemed to have shrunken in on herself making herself as small as possible in the face of so many intimidating men.
“Ladies, if you will follow me downstairs please,” Emma invited. “I have been dying to raid Junie’s wine cellar, and this seems like the perfect time to have a small interval in the delicious story Olivia is telling us all.”
“I’ll organise some food,” Beverly offered.
“Ooh and the kids are already down there with the nannies so some food for them would be great too,” Shari suggested after reading her own message from Claudio and watching the silent exchange between Emma and Beverly. “I’ll help,” she added planning on finding out what her daughter in law knew that she didn’t. With Junie gone, it was up to her to help and support the younger Mother of the Zenati.
Olivia was relieved to have the focus taken from her at last but continued with the story in her mind. Editing bits here and there of what she had told already to fit better with the later parts of the story. She found that even though she didn’t like the attention that telling the story to an audience brought her she like the creating of it and fleshing out the characters to add a little more fact to the fiction. Maybe Vivienne and Marcella had been right, and she could be a writer and illustrator of children’s stories. The thought made her smile. Perhaps she could do something worthwhile once the horror show of her life with the Suebi was over. With any luck that would be soon.
“Hello Olivia, I’m Nicola, but most people just call me Nicky. I don’t think we’ve met properly yet. I’m supposed out on the station putting the Halloween gathering together with the others. I only came to the city last night because I had to get my whirly-bird serviced. I flew your sister and Noah out of the property yesterday. It was a good opportunity to get away from the chaos for a little while,” Nicola said with a friendly smile.
“Your whirly-bird?” Olivia asked.
“Helicopter, just a small one which is why I think of her as a bird,” she grinned. “Do you like to fly? I could take you up sometime.”
“I’ve never flown anywhere; I’m more of a sailor than a flyer,” she admitted. “I saw Marcella this morning. I hope everything is okay with her. Gen didn’t say much when we rushed here this afternoon.”
“Nobody tells me anything anymore,” Nicola sighed. “My husband passed away a few years ago, and while I am still family, I am so far out of the loop I may as well be in another city,” she gave a small laugh. “I wanted to talk to you about your story though if you don’t mind me asking a few things,” she said hopefully.
“I guess,” Olivia said guardedly and looked around for Vivienne, the one familiar face in this crowd even though she had spent time with Emma and Beverly recently she still didn’t feel like she knew them very well yet.
“Let’s take a seat and get to know each other a little better. I’ll tell you about me and my life, and you can tell me about yours and how you came to create such a fabulous story,” Nicola suggested while guiding Olivia away from the others in the room to a small couch where they could talk.
“I’m guessing I don’t have to introduce myself. My story is pretty well known amongst your family,” Olivia said quietly.
“Only how you came to be here in our city, your life before that is a mystery to us all,” Nicola explained. “Except that I think you have been telling us all about your childhood through the life of the Imperfect Princess. Is that Princess you?”
“No,” Olivia gave a small, sad laugh with a shake of her head. “I’m not nearly that brave or selfless. I would be the spoilt, selfish littlest Princess, who didn’t look beyond her own needs to what was happening to her sisters,” she admitted.
“Ah, I see,” Nicola nodded without any judgement. “I think we are all a little like that when we are young, everyone except your Imperfect Princess that is. She must have been fearless. I am assuming that it is Marcella. She told me she was more of a warrior than a princess when we were talking about Halloween costumes.”
“Yeah, she wouldn’t like to be called a princess in real life,” Olivia grinned at the thought.
“Okay, well, here’s something you won’t know about me,” Nicola began. “My husband was the family herald and archivist before he died. When we lost him, it became part of my responsibilities to look after the family archive until another herald was chosen. You see each family within the Twelve Tables has a long and rich history that needs to be preserved and added to with every generation. It has always been long and tedious work to track every branch of our family tree, which grows bigger and bigger with every generation. That is until a wonderfully gifted woman, Peri, from another table and her technical wizard came up with some software that makes life a lot easier for us.”
“That’s great. I can imagine it would be a full-time job for a couple of librarians rather than just one person; otherwise,” Olivia agreed.
“Well, I was only the caretaker until the next herald was announced on the new table. Though we were pretty sure it would be Genesis with his journalism awards and all his contacts in the business. So it makes sense that you would be a writer too,” she said as if it was something Olivia had been doing for years rather than just considering for the first time.
“Oh, I’m not a writer,” Olivia shook her head.
“Only because you haven’t put your story on paper yet,” Nicola laughed. “Trust me, Honey, you have the makings of a great writer. And I think I know someone who would love to help you and maybe even publish your story when it’s written.”
“I’m not sure that’s…” Olivia trailed off. “I guess that is exactly what Vivienne and I were talking about, but I would like Marcie to help me do it, not someone who doesn’t know me or our stories.”
“But maybe when you’re looking for an editor or publisher, you’ll let me know? I think it’s a great story and one that should go into the family archives. It’s like fate brought you and your sister here at the same time as Vivienne for the three brothers. It could be a sweeping romance to tug at the heartstrings.”
“I planned to write children’s books for other children who are scared like I was when they were little and don’t have a warrior to help them through it all,” Olivia explained.
“Talented and noble,” Nicola nodded. “Still, I think your sister’s story will resonate with many adults as well who are survivors and think no one else can understand what they have been through. At least think about it and in the meantime, can I contact my friend just to see if she thinks it’s as good of an idea as I think it is?
“I don’t think so. Not yet, at least. I don’t think Marcella would like her life published for everyone to read,” Olivia said. “I’ll think about what you said though.”
“Okay I won’t push, but it would be a shame if you never wrote this story down it could be a best-seller,” Nicola enthused.
*****
Marcella lifted her head from the back of the couch. She’d fallen asleep watching the house where no one had come and gone for the duration of that time. Something had woken her up, and she jumped in fright as a heavy body landed on the couch beside her. She turned to look, and her eyes widen at the sight of Noah.
“What are you doing here?” she gasped. “You can’t be here you were shot you should be in the hospital!” Her eyes raked over him seeking out a wound or something to tell her that he was the real Noah, the Noah she had spoken to not so long ago who had told her it was only a graze.
“I’m fine. Zan was shot worse,” he indicated her other side. She turned to find the younger cousin that she had met the morning sitting beside her shirtless with a large bandage wound around his chest.
“We were looking for you,” Zanto said admonishingly. “Guess the gunmen were too,” he shrugged.
“Why would gunmen be looking for me?” she asked, feeling her stomach plummet and directing her question to Noah.
“I don’t know, but I wasn’t about to help them find you,” Noah said. “Neither was he,” he added, turning her face back to Zanto and pressing against her back, so she was leaning into the young man. “You should thank him properly for taking a bullet meant for you.” The murmured suggestion froze her in place. This shouldn’t be happening why was this happening. Then Zanto reached up to cradle her cheek and pressed his lips to hers softly.
“I’m not the only one who took a bullet for you,” Zanto murmured against her hips before pulling back. He watched with a heated gaze as Noah turned her face to his, kissing her deeply with all the passion and heat she remembered he possessed. His tongue was duelling with her own when she felt Zanto move closer and kiss her neck and ear lobe breathing warm breath against her skin. Both of their hands began caressing her arms and thighs as if they had divided her in half, right down the middle.
This can’t be happening! Her brain screamed at her as Noah pulled away and her head was turned so that Zanto claimed her lips again. This time he didn’t hold back. He parted her lips, kissing her as deeply and with as much heat as Noah had, and despite knowing that this was wrong, so very wrong, she kissed him back.
This had to be a dream Marcella reasoned. She considered making herself wake up by pinching herself or something. But then she thought that a little dream kissing never hurt anyone, especially as Noah seemed to be the one instigating this weird menage in her dream. Besides, it felt good to be held between two hot men and kissed like she was their oxygen. It was just kissing, and she could stop them at any moment if she just said the word, stop, even in her dream state. Only she didn’t say it, and she continued going back and forth between their heated kisses.
In the end, she had relaxed into the feeling her head bent back against the couch as they took turns kissing her, their hands caressing her arms and sides, making her feel so good in that moment. Then the mood changed slightly, and their hands moved from her arms to her breasts each moving in a different way over her breasts which were thankfully covered by the thin cotton dress. Again she froze. This had gone too far, but they swallowed her half-hearted protests, making them sound like a moan in her throat as they cupped and squeeze a breast each. Their fingers, squeezed, moulded and played with her breasts in uniquely different ways. The sensation was intoxicating to her, like drinking champagne too fast and getting a head rush of alcohol-fuelled bubbles.
Beneath her dress, she could feel her nipples harden and swell to their touch. Her body began to respond, and she leaned back a little more and continued to kiss both men. Her hands slid up onto each of their thighs, scratching lightly at the material of their pants and sensing their growing cocks trapped behind the fabric. The thin material of her dress tore, making her startle and pull away from the two men.
“Relax, I’ve got you,” Noah crooned kissing her neck. “Nothing bad will happen when I’ve got you.”
Marcella wanted to believe him, wanted to trust him even if this was a dream. She wanted to have faith that he was all he had told her he could be, instead of a man who would force her to submit to the laws of the tables. She wanted to be able to love him as he had told her he loved her. The look on his face as she had left him and Zanto in that hotel room that morning played in her head. She leaned back and closed her eyes against all the warnings in her head and consoling herself that this was just a dream, and she wouldn’t have to face the reality of what she was doing.
Their persistent hands had worked against her as she had been lost in her thoughts, and her breasts now lay exposed to both men as they cupped and played with the fleshy mounds. Their fingers twirling around the nipples and tweaking one while the other was pinched and pulled. As Marcella’s mouth was claimed by Noah’s, Zanto leaned down and licked her swollen nipple before drawing it between his lips. He held it in his mouth and suckled, his tongue swirling over it. Hot sparks flew through her body, and she squirmed in unbidden heat, arching her back and flexing her chest towards him. She let out a moan as they switched positions, so she was now kissing Zanto and Noah was left to torment the other nipple exquisitely.
Marcella’s fingers raked up their thighs as she arched and switched between the two men who seemed determined to make her melt into a puddle of needy desire. As if in response, their hands move to her thighs and begin caressing up towards the apex between them. One of her hands reached down and stopped Zanto’s hand from mirroring that of his cousin. It momentarily stopped his progress, but it was a weak attempt. She didn’t push him away but instead held the hand in place, the warmth radiating into her skin. She could feel him kiss her neck, and her ear lobe before his words penetrated the lust haze in her mind.
“This feels right. Feel it with me beautiful. This isn’t wrong, Noah is happy I’m here, just relax and enjoy it,” Zanto crooned. “Let me taste you, touch you, end the craving I feel for you.”
Marcella gasped at his words and pulled away from Noah’s kiss to look into Zanto’s eyes to see the truth of his words. He closed his eyes, and there was an ear-shattering bang jolting her from the moment. She looked at the still features of Zanto and let her eyes trail down his body to where blood poured from a bullet hole in his chest, soaking through the bandage he wore.
“Why, Marcella?” he whispered, looking hurt and confused.
Another bang sounded making he freeze in horror as Zanto slumped back into the couch beside her. She opened her mouth to scream, and nothing came out as she stared in horror at the two men beside her. It was a dream, just a dream. She jabbed her nails into her thighs, trying to wake herself up from this nightmare.
Marcella startled to wakefulness. Her breathing was ragged, and she shook her head, trying to dismiss the dream from her mind. Her bladder protested the movement, and she looked around, wondering if this stateroom had an attached bathroom of some description. Sitting up properly, she was surprised to find a man standing close by to where she had fallen asleep on the couch.
“Hello Marcella, my name is Konrad. That must have been some dream you were having. I have come to help you prepare for dinner. It’s a black-tie occasion, so it’s important to dress up and act like you belong that way no one will become suspicious of a new face in our crowd. It is quite a close-knit group you understand. You will act as my date for the evening. First, though, a shower to freshen up?” He eyed her with a smirk taking in the rapid breathing she was fighting to control and the points of her nipples straining against the thin fabric of her dress.
“Yes, a bathroom, please,” Marcella nodded and kept her head down, trying to disguise her blush as she came to her feet.
“Certainly, I will leave the clothes and makeup and return in an hour for you,” Konrad said politely. After guiding her to the attached bathroom, he left her to get ready for dinner with the renegade Suebi. She knew that the people he spoke of were the one’s who planned the takeover of Remington’s kingdom in the north once the opposition to their leadership was dispensed with in the raid tonight. Marcella swallowed down her trepidation and went through the process of readying herself for a black-tie dinner.
*****
When she had handed herself over to these people, this had been the last thing Marcella had expected. At the same time, she had hoped not to be treated like a prisoner. She thought maybe she could expect to be considered as a frenemy who was treated with wary caution. A black-tie event had been the furthest idea of how she would spend her evening. The dress that Konrad had left for her was beautiful. If she didn’t know better, she would have through it was designed just for her. The sapphire blue material of the dress moulded to her curves and skimmed the tops of her toes in the delicate sandals provided in precisely the right size.
Pushing all thoughts of her earlier dream from her mind, Marcella had showered and changed before trying to form her curls into a semi-elegant updo. She cursed at not having taken the time to straighten her hair that morning. She’d barely put the finishing touches on her makeup when Konrad returned smiling widely at her and not hiding his appreciation of what he saw.
“You look lovely, Miss Gambaro,” he said formally. “Shall we?” He held his elbow out toward her, and when she reached toward him, he tucked her hand in the crook of the elbow and covered her hand with his before walking from the room. “You are quite an unexpected but equally lovely surprise to add to this evenings events.”
The guests at the dinner party had started to arrive, and all seemed to know Konrad well and welcomed him warmly when they entered the dining room. Marcella wondered if they had docked again to pick up so many people. A few of the other guests were introduced to Marcella as friends rather than associates, a word she realised he didn’t use lightly. He introduced her as his girlfriend and staying true to the role he had given her she was attentive to his needs and stayed by his side during the evening. It was just another role she had to assume in her life.
Konrad was impressed with how easily Marcella was able to adjust to being given a sense of belonging when he had called her his girlfriend. She was able to join in conversations on matters of social importance to the crowd of highly intelligent men and women. Most of them made up the core of the remaining Northern Suebi clan as well as some interested parties from the bordering states who had backed the smaller group initiating this final take over after the demise of Remington Royce. She never argued points she disagreed with but instead lapsed into a quiet smile and nodded as the misinformed continued to talk despite her gentle prompting that they may have been mistaken about the subject they were discussing. Particularly when talking about the poor girl Remington’s had chosen to marry with genuine sympathy. It galled her that they knew what he was doing to Olivia, and not one of them had lifted a hand to stop the evil monster or help her.
At the table, they sat close to long-time friends of Konrad’s, brothers, he had called them. She realised this would be the best opportunity to find out more about the man. She had listened to the table banter, giggling as they joked and reminisced with each other during the meal. She found he was respected amongst his peers, and perhaps feared a little, they didn’t argue with him, and if there was a disagreement, they looked to him to arbitrate. She could tell the men at their table shared a genuine friendship with Konrad that dated back years, possibly to his school days because he did not seem very old.
“Marcella,” Alyson, one of the women at the table said, getting her attention. “Would you mind terribly if I danced with Konrad, Zander has two left feet,” she shook her head sadly.
“I don’t mind if he doesn’t,” Marcella answered with a genuine smile.
“Dance with me, Konrad, please?” Alyson wheedled. “You’re the only one out of this lot who has any rhythm at all.”
“If I must,” Konrad groaned like a martyr holding back a smile as he stood to take her hand and lead her toward where a few couples were dancing on the rear deck of the yacht which opened off the dining room.
“He makes it look so easy,” Zander said disgustedly.
“Probably because it is easy for him,” she laughed. “Some people just have a natural rhythm.”
“Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you,” he chuckled. “So how did you two meet, you’re not the usual type he dates?” Zander asked.
“I’m not?” she feigned ignorance about Konrad’s type. “Do tell?”
“Oh no, I’m not falling for that,” he held up his hands as if surrendering to attack.
“It’s okay, you’re not the first person to mention his preference for busty blondes,” she laughed. “We met through mutual acquaintances,” she gave the pat answer she had given everyone else who had asked during the night.
“He seems relaxed, so you must be doing something right,” Zander said. “He can be an uptight bastard at times. He’s usually hovering over any girl he brings to these things as if making sure she doesn’t divulge any of his secrets.”
“I imagine you all know far more about him than I do. He does seem to like things a certain way, though,” she said with a grin. “Luckily, I am adaptable. Not adaptable enough to change my hair colour or get a boob job if he asked me to,” she laughed. “But the day to day stuff doesn’t bother me.”
“You’d have to be adaptable,” Zander chuckled. “He’s always been a control freak, but that’s why he’s so successful at what he does.”
“Is this the part where you tell me not to break his heart?” she laughed.
“Who me? Nah I think you know as well as I do that he can handle himself. I would be more concerned about your welfare in that case,” he chuckled. “The man doesn’t like to lose and won’t let go easily if you decide to end things.”
“So of all these busty blondes I keep hearing about, none ever broken his heart?” she asked.
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure he had one. He just doesn’t seem to do the girlfriend thing or get attached to anyone, for that matter. He has friends and acquaintances but no family, that I know of, anyway,” he shrugged. “Aside of us,” he amended quickly at her puzzled looked. “We are brothers by choice, however, not by blood.”
“So he’s a closed book to his friends?” she asked curiously looking out to the dance floor where Konrad twirled and dipped his partner.
“Let’s not go putting words in my mouth here. All I am saying is that we’re probably closer to him than most and while we’ve seen him bring dates to dinners before, we’ve never been introduced to a girlfriend. That in itself makes you different,” Zander noted.
Having piqued the interest of the other guests at their table, they began to debate the fact that Konrad was more likely to take a date to a social gathering where he required a buffer and that no one could recall him taking a date to a business or clan meeting. Other’s continued to speculate on the fact that as she wasn’t the usual type of girl he dated. In the main, they stayed away from the term girlfriend he had used to introduce her. If only they had known the truth about who she was and why she was here they probably wouldn’t have been so candid with her.
“So, did you learn anything interesting while I was gone?” Konrad asked when he returned and bent to kiss her cheek softly.
“Well,” she paused for dramatic effect. “If I have understood your friends properly,” again she paused and looked around at them noting that they looked on silently unsure of what she would say. “You’re an uptight bastard boarding on control freak who never dates the same girl twice. The current conjecture is that I made it to girlfriend status because I don’t fit your usual dating profile. It seems I don’t have the tits for it.” She laughed and looked down at her cleavage.
“Sounds about right,” Konrad nodded unfazed by what she had told him. “Would you like another glass of wine?”
“No, I’ve seriously had enough for tonight,” she laughed at his admission.
“Sparkling water then? It’s almost time for the show, and you will want something to toast with once its over,” Konrad mused as he watched a large screen roll down from the ceiling to partially cover the far wall of the room.
“A show?” she asked, confused by the hush that settled over the room as the music stopped and everyone retook their seats.
“Indeed. Did you think we would be content with the idea alone? We will watch the final downfall of Remington’s organisation and the people who allowed him to reign like a king over the underworld of the northern reaches of this land,” Konrad asked.
“I didn’t think about it,” she frowned. “I guessed you had people on the ground there to relay the details to you.”
“We do, but this will be more fun, I believe,” Konrad chuckled as the lights dimmed. The screen lit up with a hazy greenish image of the house with smaller pictures from other camera’s lining the side of the sides of the screen. “The Zenati did well bringing in outside help for this raid as far as we know no word has leaked from any of the Suebi sympathisers inside the AFP base in this city.”
“How will we know what is happening inside the house?” Marcella asked.
“We have a man on the inside. He will relay as much as he can before he is arrested along with the others. It will be some time yet before they make their move as the teams get into place to cover all angles and exits,” Konrad explained casually. “What will you do once you have the evidence to free your sister from suspicion? Will you stay in the north or return home to the job you abandoned for Olivia?”
“Honestly, I’ve been thinking about that a lot today while I was stuck in that room downstairs,” Marcella said softly not answering the question directly. Her sister would be fine with Genesis; she could see that now. It was where Olivia wanted to be. She’d walked out on Noah, and he had gotten shot trying to find her and his cousin, her heart lurched every time she thought about Zanto being shot in the chest because of her. It couldn’t be good no matter what spin Noah had put on it. She’d been a wrecking ball in the lives of the Zenati men. Her attempts to protect her sister and in some ways Vivienne had turned their lives upside down. She wasn’t so sure she would be welcomed back after she had walked out on Noah that morning. Even if she wanted to go back and make sure Olivia got everything she needed and deserved from Remington’s estate to make her an independent woman, she couldn’t be sure of the Zenati’s acceptance.
“And what did you come up with after all that thinking?” Konrad tilted his head toward her and looked into her eyes.
“I have a small nest egg saved, and I thought I might travel a bit. Maybe, see a little more of the world. I’ve barely left Perth before coming here. I’d like to see the Great barrier reef and some of the islands I have heard about,” she shrugged. “I haven’t thought much beyond finding these pricks, though,” she indicated the screen. “I wasn’t even sure I could pull this off, so I hadn’t thought beyond tonight until this afternoon. If for some reason it doesn’t work out, I guess I will keep looking for the evidence Olivia needs to prove her version of events.”
“Will the men of your family not track you down. The Tables men are not known for giving their children the freedom to choose their own lives and paths,” Konrad asked still using the casual tone that made him easy to talk to as if he genuinely cared about her answers.
“My family isn’t close to the table. We are less than a twig on that family tree. I doubt that I even rate on their radar even with the publicity surrounding my sister. Once things calm down with Olivia, I will be able to fade into obscurity again. As I said, I have a little nest egg stashed away. I’m sure I can stay under the radar from anyone looking for me for a little while at least,” she smiled and turned back towards the screen biting her tongue from spilling any more of her plans to this man. He was far too easy to talk to, and the small amount of wine she had drunk seemed to have loosened her usual tight hold on her interactions with people she barely knew. She picked up the sparkling water she had been given noticing a slight orange tint to the water.
“It is one of those waters with a hint of peach, I believe. Could be mango,” he said smoothly, taking it from her and sipping it. “Peach, definitely peach,” he handed the glass back. “Perhaps I could be of assistance. I have a property in Airlie Beach, which is seen as the gateway to the reef and the Whitsunday Islands. It is beautiful there. I was planning to return there myself after my business is concluded with the northern clans is concluded. You could return with me,” he offered.
“You would let me stay at your home? Why? You don’t know me,” Marcella asked startled by the offer.
“I have found myself enjoying your company immensely tonight. I will admit that I know some of yours and your sister’s story and I would not blame you for never returning to your family in Perth, so my offer is genuine. No strings attached, you can come and hang out at the beach or visit the islands as long as you would like,” he offered. “I would even assist you to hide your identity for a time while you decided what you would like to do next,” he offered. “The Tables are not easy places for women to belong. Especially one as highly intelligent and beautiful as you are.”
“That sounds like just the break I need,” Marcella sighed wondering what had gotten into her that she would be so forthcoming with this man. She went to speak again to ensure he knew she wasn’t just going to accept his offer without giving it some serious thought. Then, an excited voice broke the tension in the room.
“Here we go ladies and gentlemen!” the voice called. Suddenly there was noise and movement in each picture on the big screen as the team conducting the raid moved in unison. Shouts from both sides of the melee could be heard as well as distorted cries of alarm and pain which rent the air.
Marcella couldn’t take her eyes from the screen finding all the action hard to follow. She began listening carefully to Konrad as he spoke with his friends about each of the intended targets, making sure they were all accounted for before they celebrated the final destruction of Royce’s Empire. She was strangely comfortable with this group of people. She felt accepted even though she was a woman from the Tables and they were all Suebi or at least Suebi Allies. Maybe it was because she too had a darkness inside her that drove her to bend and even break the rules when necessary to get what she wanted and where she needed to go.
Cheers began to go up as men and women were led from Hermione’s house by the authorities. Marcella could hear the people around her, referring to their lists to ensure the people they needed to be taken out of the public domain were among those arrested. The names Marcella needed to hear she knew by heart and she sat quietly ticking each of them off in her mind as the cheers went up. She could barely follow the various fuzzy green views of the house and found herself relying on Konrad and his friends to help her distinguish what was happening more and more. She closed her eyes, feeling a fuzzy in her brain. She worried that this was more than the effect of just a few glasses of wine at dinner causing her to feel so mellow about what was happening around her. Still, she couldn’t seem to find her voice to raise her concerns to Konrad.
Then suddenly it was over, and only a few of the men who had been part of the raiding teams remained to sort through the debris and aftermath of the event. At the same time, everyone down to the chef’s and waitresses from Hermione’s were driven away in a convoy of vehicles. Chatter rose once again in the room until the beautiful woman the Marcella now knew to be Bea’s daughter, Madonna, stood clinking her glass with a sizeable gaudy ring adorning her right hand.
“Friends,” she said, raising her voice to gain their attention. “Tonight has been the final victory over the usurper Remington Royce and his cronies. Now the Empire built by Maddox Kottmann and his son in law, my father, Eliah Schwann, can be returned to the rightful heirs of the Northern Suebi Empire. This has been a long time in the planning and execution, but at last, the territory is ours once again.” A big cheer went up at her words.
“My mother, Bea, my cousin, Landon, and I are the last of that proud line of Suebi chieftains. As such, we feel a duty to each of you to recover all that we have lost and make our clan a formidable force once more. It is with great anticipation that in the morning, we will take possession of the promissory note to our family home from the bastard’s slut and her Zenati captors,” another cheer went up. She waited until they all quieted again before continuing. She waxed eloquently thanking all of her supporters for keeping her secrets and supporting her to stand firm against the evil perpetrated against her family. She thanked those that had helped set up each step of their vengeance against the man who had murdered her grandfather, father and brother.
Marcella was shocked by the way Madonna spoke about the demise of the Remington Royce and his men. She was even more surprised that she spoke of Olivia with the same hatred in her voice. Not once had she used Olivia’s name, referring to her only as Royce’s little bitch or slut as if Olivia was just as guilty as Remington had been for the crimes he had committed. She stiffened in her seat each time Olivia was mentioned and felt the gentle hand of Konrad touch her leg under the table unseen by all but the those sitting the closest to them as he leaned close and murmured in her ear.
“Now is not the time to react to her uneducated diatribe. It will do you more harm than good, no matter what she is saying about your sister. This is the reason the Suebi Princess was never considered a true contender for the mantle of the chieftain of the northern clans,” Konrad said simply. “Madonna is uncultured and uncouth and quite possibly insane. Her mother indulges her whims now just as she always has and this is just one more demand she has made from the people who kowtow to her tantrums. If it were Queen Bea taking the reigns of the northern realms, we might have allowed it, but these rantings cannot be tolerated. Remain calm she will not be allowed to lead this clan any further. She was a necessary evil to ensure the entire Suebi Clan was crippled beyond repair.”
“Who is left to stop her? I helped her destroy those who would have stood against her,” Marcella was horrified by the part she had played in this woman’s plans even though her reasons were sound. She would do it all over again to save Olivia from further distress and heartache at the hands of the authorities who were still considering charges against her.
“We are,” Konrad said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It is fortunate that you agreed to accept my offer of sanctuary from this world and that of tables or you would share their fate. Now stay right here while we end this reign of madness here once and for all and install our chosen people to pick up the pieces of the broken Empire.” With no further warning, Konrad nodded to Zander who stood and drew his gun shooting the Princess of the Suebi in the head.
Marcella sat in dulled shock as people screamed and attempted to flea around her. She didn’t dare move as Konrad moved partially in front of her and one of his men moved to stand behind her effectively closing her in so she couldn’t move even if she wanted to. In the protective shell of their bodies, she saw very little of the carnage that was happening in the room. The men and women, Madonna had thanked for their allegiance in her speech, effectively betrayed those that had trusted them and extinguished the remnants of the Northern Suebi clan. It was over in a matter of minutes; each murder was carried out with the efficiency and precision of a special forces squad. It was as if the outcome of this dinner party had been planned far in advance and those who had been chosen for the new regime moved around the room, ensuring no one from the former power-houses remained.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you all know what to do,” Konrad announced and turning to Marcella took her by the hand and led her from the room as if nothing untoward had happened at all. Marcella knew she should fight him; he was a killer without any remorse. She knew she shouldn’t go anywhere with him, but what choice did she have? They held the guns, and she did not believe herself less dispensable than the others in that room.
She was in shock at what she had witnessed. She followed Konrad with lead feet and a massive pit of doom opening in her belly swallowing any hope she had for a future free from men who sought to control her life. She had watched this man who now held her hand so gently order the death of a woman and not blink an eye as it was carried out. Even now, he seemed calm and at ease as he led her to the foredeck of the yacht where a helicopter sat. She knew at that moment that if she left with him, he would never release her to tell her story to the authorities.
*****
Noah leaned against a wall opposite to the Post office he and Zanto had discovered as the last pace Marcella had been the day before. He needed to see her, hear her and feel her next to him again to know she was safe. He hadn’t heard from her after that brief call to tell him that it was not the Suebi that had targeted him and his cousin. As the night wore on with the raid and arrests, he became more worried about where she was and the people who held her.
Noah’s anxiety increased as the time crept on, the post office opened, and regular customers came and went in the busy hustle of a workday morning. The longer he stood there, the low his spirits sank. She wasn’t coming back. She’d done what she needed to ensure her sister’s freedom and security, and she had left. He closed his eyes, willing the dark thoughts of her rejection of their growing relationship from his mind. He would give it another hour, and then he would let the watchers take over the surveillance of the post office.
He still needed to talk to Gianni after Zanto’s revelations yesterday, and if possible, he needed to find Imelda. He concentrated, trying to remember her advice to him the last time he had seen her. The warning to leave the markets sooner rather than later which he hadn’t heeded stuck in his mind more so than the words about Marcella. Still, he had vowed to her that if she left, he would go with her or follow her and that was exactly what he intended to do. He had no plans to be yet another man who let her down and left her to fend for herself. His phone rang, and he answered it immediately.
“Marcella?” he breathed into the phone.
“Noah, its Orlando. I need you at the marina now. The black suits will stay and watch the post office,” he voice was clipped as if holding back curse words or something worse.
“You found her?” Noah asked warily, unsure of the feelings he was getting from Orlando and not entirely trusting his abilities as an oracle to rival Dominic. He knew Orlando was holding back something though, and the sooner he got to the marina, the sooner he would find out what. Marcella had been on a boat, out at sea, she had said. Maybe they had found Bea and all of her associates with their guards down.
“No, just get down here,” Orlando said abruptly and ended the call. When Noah looked up again, a black-suited man moved alongside him with a barely noticeable nod of his head. Noah turned to head for his car, the sinking feeling in his stomach growing worse as he walked away from the one real clue he had to where the woman he loved would be at some point today.
He drove as if on automatic pilot. The closer he got the further down his stomach sunk and as he got out of his car and saw the police and crime scene barriers he froze in his tracks. She had still held the original document as collateral why would they have killed her. It can be her; it had to be something else. He straightened his shoulders and began walking forward again. In his head, he tried and failed to remember Imelda’s warnings of the day before.
“She not here,” Orlando said gruffly as approached Noah his face grave.
“Then, why am I here?” Noah asked frowning. “What’s up with the crime scene?”
“Dominic isn’t up to this stuff yet, and you’re the next best thing. It’s going to be hard but just listen to the whole scenario before you react. Absorb the scene for what it is and try to take Marcella out of the equation,” Orlando counselled.
“I doubt I can take her out of any equation,” Noah grumbled but followed Orlando to the scene. He said nothing as he immediately recognised Bea as one of the many dead. The known Suebi within the room had been taken out. Some of the men and women had obviously been taken by surprise, and others seemed to have been cut down as they tried to escape the room. Seventeen bodies scattered the large room that looked like it may have held twice that number during the evening.
“Where are the others?” Noah asked. “There were at least double this number here last night.
“Nobody else was found onboard not even the crew,” Orlando said. “We had been watching Madonna Schwann since Zanto located her two days ago, and she hired this yacht for a week. When the boat came back to dock no staff were seen leaving during the early hours of the morning. The cleaning staff arrived as requested this morning and found this.”
“They searched everywhere?” Noah demanded.
“She’s not here Noah, but you should know that because she was known to be with these people last night and in her own words out at sea, she is the Police’s prime and only suspect for the murders,” Orlando said and before Noah could say anything held up his hand. “This could work in our favour if the police are looking for her as well as us. If there is a media response that she is a person of interest in this case, anyone who knows where she is could contact the police.”
“Fuck,” was all that came out of Noah’s mouth for the longest of moments. “You know she couldn’t have done this, right?” He looked to Orlando for reassurance.
“That Noah is why you are here to try and find some of the missing pieces of this puzzle. Dom can’t do it this time. And let’s just say you are more motivated than anyone else to discover who did this and what happened to Marcella Gambaro. Once Oscar and Nathaniel find out, not to mention the Battaglia and Apollo, this will become the business of the Thirteen. That isn’t including what will happen if Severino was telling the truth about Jessa Farnese and the other women,” Orlando warned.
“See if anyone can find Imelda,” Noah instructed. “Dom is probably the most likely to be able to locate her,” Noah said stiffly. Then he stepped further into the room to start his assessment and scan of the last place he knew for a fact Marcella had been.