Devil's Prey(36)

It was a scary time in the underworld that Mags had been sheltered from  since her disappearance was carefully guarded by the White Knights  though they were working directly under Dimitri's orders. The whole time  they'd had her, the club was on edge but they managed to hold  everything together with false bravado. If Brad hadn't been so sure that  anyone who came sneaking around would end up dead at the hands of  Koslakov Mafia, he would've feared for his life.

Max knew men like Brad and Nel because he knew human nature; they feared Angelo more than they feared Dimitri.

Max could blame Dimitri as much as he wanted but Angelo wasn't a stupid  man. He would want to know who had held Mags all this time, after all a  major cover-up had to be involved for a young woman to disappear off the  face of the earth for over a decade.

Something of that magnitude didn't happen with cops on the payroll,  people being paid off left and right, snitches, hitmen, gangsters and  all sorts of unsavory parts of society collaborating together to make  the plan workable without too many hitches or monkey-wrenches.

There were so many near miss situations when Mags should have been found  and for that, Max felt personally responsible. He'd been responsible  for and directly in charge of the operation. The drugs he'd given to the  White Knights hadn't been payment for Mags-it was "hush-hush" money for  them not pre-empting him and blowing the whole operation to Angelo  Abandonato themselves.

Brad and Nel had loyalty to the club and their brothers but the  relationship between them and the Koslakov Mafia had soured over the  years. They'd discovered the hard way there was no loyalty among thieves  and even less so when it came to a Russian outfit that cared little for  its soldiers but nothing at all for outsiders.

In the end, everyone was expendable.

Max watched with awe as Mags walked into the living room. She wore a  gorgeous black cocktail dress by Chanel, matching Christian Louboutin  heels and a bright ruby Hermes Kelly handbag that matched the diamond  and ruby choker he surprised her with when they'd first moved to New  Orleans. Her sable hair was up in a fancy chignon and with minimal  makeup, she still remained an absolute vision that had to be seen to be  believed.

He still felt like pinching himself sometimes because he couldn't  believe he would ever get this lucky in a million years to end up with a  woman as wonderful as her. What a diamond in the rough she'd been but  now, as her own person, he couldn't describe the way his heart swelled  at the sight of her.

Their sex life sizzled and he loved fucking her, making love to her,  possessing her in every way there was to have a woman but that paled in  comparison to seeing her as she strode toward him with a smile on her  face. She belonged to him of all people and he couldn't stop himself  from wondering how he'd been able to make her feel anything for him at  all?

Emotions, fortunately, couldn't be manufactured and if he could have  stopped himself from falling for her, God knows he would have. However,  Max couldn't believe he ever felt that way about her. She was a vision  come to life and she loved him. He'd fallen in love with her and still,  he continued to fall farther and deeper every day. She was kryptonite  and quicksand rolled into one-his greatest poison yet the one woman he'd  rather die for than live without.         

     



 

"I take it from the look on your face you think I look pretty good." She  started to bite her lip, remembered she wore lip-gloss and stopped  herself in time.

"You look absolutely amazing. Angelo is going to be so taken aback with  you. You're . . . flawless," he said as he stood to his feet.

She straightened the midnight blue silk tie he wore with a conservative  midnight gray Armani suit. "You don't look half bad yourself, Mr.  Gillespie."

Max leaned in toward her before he kissed her forehead lightly. "Is it  strange that I still haven't gotten used to it? Using my real name, that  is?"

Mags shook her head. "No but it's for the best. Dimitri would never expect you to use it."

They left their penthouse apartment shortly afterward and he drove  directly to Gautreau's in their silver Range Rover. Although some things  changed, much had stayed the same. Mags still owned a Mini Cooper  except the one she had now was black and a later model.

He arrived at the restaurant approximately fifteen minutes before they  were supposed to meet Angelo. No matter how calm he tried to be, there  was always the chance her uncle wouldn't bother with an explanation,  shoot him on sight and take Magnolia under his wing.

Why the sudden was he the one who seemed nervous now while Magnolia was  perfectly calm and content as they stepped out of the car and walked  towards the restaurant. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he opened  the door and ushered them into the small boutique restaurant.

After confirming their reservation with the Maître D', they were seated  by a professional young waiter and left with a wine menu at the table.  Max picked it up before he set it down.

"I don't want to be presumptuous. Maybe I should wait until Angelo gets here and he can choose the wine."

Mags grabbed his hand closest to her own and squeezed lightly as she  looked into his eyes. "Don't worry. Nothing will happen to you. If I  have anything to say about it, I'll let Angelo know you had nothing to  do with what happened to me."

He nodded but his heart skipped a beat the moment Angelo walked into the  restaurant. He spoke to a middle-aged black man-Raymond Jackson-as they  strolled to the table.

Angelo stopped and turned to Magnolia who got up from her seat and  smiled warmly before she embraced Angelo and followed it with a warm  embrace in Raymond's arms as well.

Finally, the two men acknowledged Max but they could barely hide the  distaste in their faces for him. And why should they feel any different  when they knew who had previously employed him?

They took their seats across from him and Mags as she naturally slipped their hands together and clutched his.

Angelo's arctic gaze disarmed Max instantly. "When you called me and  told me what this was about, I thought you were pullin' some shit for  your boss. Then I heard about what happened in the Caribbean with Kitaev  and I gotta ask if that was you?"

"Yes, it was. I needed you and your business partner, Mr. Jackson, to  know I am serious about this proposition. This isn't a double cross and I  know you have no reason to believe me. However, you can look into Mags'  eyes and see that we're ready to do whatever is necessary to prove our  loyalty to you," he responded in a respectful manner.

The waiter immediately materialized again at the table and Raymond  ordered two bottles of aged Cabernet Sauvignon before they continued  their conversation.

"Max was worried you would bring an army with you, Uncle." Mags' smile  could warm the iciest heart. "I told him you wouldn't do that though.  You just wanted to make sure I was safe and sound."

Angelo stared from Mags to Max. "Well . . . is she? Safe and sound, I mean."

"She is now," Max said as he looked from Angelo to a silent Raymond.  "I'm not going to lie to you. The men who had her-they were very harsh  with her but they also knew if they went too far they would eventually  have to deal with you."

"Is that why we got those calls from Brad and Nel Decker? They ate crow  all right-in fact they were willing to do just about anything for us not  to kill their asses," Raymond said in a quiet voice. "Angelo and I are  businessmen first but this is family we're talkin' about. We can't  murder 'em though, not when they used a sorry ass excuse they were just  followin' orders . . . your orders, Mr. Cartier-"

"It's Gillespie now," Max cut in.

"Oh, so now you wanna conveniently own up to bein' Sean's son because  you know that we won't be able to touch you, bein' a Saint by default  an' all." Angelo shook his head with disgust as the waiter came back,  allowed the two men to sample the wine before he poured them all each  half glasses and walked away.         

     



 

"No, not at all. I haven't told my father or my brother about me using  the name because it has been imperative we keep a low profile. As for  what Brad and Nel were doing, it is true they were following orders but I  never had that kind of power. Nothing went on Dimitri didn't know  about." Max drank tentatively from his glass of wine.

"Why Sophia?" Angelo blurted out rudely. "Yeah, she married the wrong man but . . . I don't get it."

"Dimitri knew the truth about Sophia's paternity. He knew you two were  half-siblings-not cousins. Isn't that why you insist Mags calls you her  uncle as opposed to her second cousin?"

"Uncle Angelo, is that true?" Mags wondered out loud.

He nodded dismissively. "Yeah, sweetheart, it's true. But why didn't  that cowardly Russian bastard come after me? Why my poor sister who  never hurt another soul in her life? Is that how you people operate?"