Golden Burn (Songs of Crime #1)

6. Odin

6

Odin

‘What Goes Around.../…Comes Around’ - Justin Timberlake

T he leather-bound chair has turned to a slab of concrete beneath me.

I’ve spent too much time in this room sorting through the paperwork and data needed to be prepared for the meeting that I both dread and eagerly await.

Dom has drafted the contract that will seal the Lombardos and the Bolt group into a new era of business. I’ve yet to sign it. My pride begs me not to.

It’s been ten years since I first started my company and built my empire. I could have crumbled when my life disintegrated in my hands, but I funneled my pain, turned it into the fuel that drove me. I took my inheritance from my son of a bitch of a father and started something of my own. My properties are spread across four continents. My wealth knows no bounds. And yet, my soul has never been satisfied.

Not until I realized what I’ve been running from.

The Lombardos.

In the aftermath of my devastation, I combed the streets searching for them. I wrestled a few into the dirt, killed for the first time, the second, and so on. But it was pointless. I was only one man. The weeds grow fast and they grow hungry in the Lombardos.

Cerbera is one of their main players. Determined and bloodthirsty. He took control of the Lombardo assets, found new partnerships in the underground hell pits of the world, and steadily clawed his way up the ranks.

Now, I’m back where I started all those years ago. But this time, instead of breaking a deal, I’m making one. And it just so happens we’ve circled back to the one thing that ruined me in the first place.

Marriage.

The only way to secure this deal is to appease Cerbera’s twisted mind. He wants me to marry Harriet. And he wants me to do it quickly.

It seems the Lombardos not only pass down their insatiable appetite for greed to their children, but the talent for holding grudges to their graves, too.

It’s infuriating having terms demanded by a snake of a man who makes his money off of the backs of the desperate. It’s even worse knowing I can’t refuse him. Because although I hate every single one of them, I want to control them even more. It’s not enough to kill them off one by one, since it’s clear they are more than capable of starting again with nothing but ashes in their palms. If I want to make sure the Lombardos never reach their previous bloody glory, then I need to make this deal. I need to be the one pulling the strings—the one they have to come to if they even want to lift a finger.

It’s the only way .

I’m interrupted from my tangle of thoughts by a soft knock at the door. Dom enters and hands me a folder. I know what’s inside it. I despise what’s inside it. I place it on the desk, away from my vision.

“She’s in her room. I don’t think she’ll come back out for a while.”

I nod. My thoughts are too preoccupied.

Dom’s cheeks are pulling his lips into a straight, displeased line. He wants to make me feel bad about what I’ve done to Harriet. It won’t work. Every time I see her blue eyes, I have to resist the urge to poke them out of their sockets and hurl them into the ocean.

“When does Cerbera want the documents signed?” he asks.

“In a month.”

“So, you have four weeks till the marriage needs to be finalized.”

“Yes.” Four weeks until Harriet becomes my wife.

“I’m just saying, it might be nice to get to know her,” my jaw hardens, causing Dom to raise his hands, “just a little bit. You don’t have to like her, but I think it would be in everyone’s best interest for Etta to not be scared of you.”

My shoulders drop when I realize what he’s saying. If Harriet is going to be unpredictable and resistant, it will mean more time keeping her in check and less time preparing ourselves to join the Lombardos. It will mean Dom and Ford are doing double the work for something that is my responsibility. I hate that he has a point. But I’m glad he decided to voice it.

“Fine. I understand.” Dom looks pleased. “I’ll be more civil.”

“Just don’t scare her and we might be able to salvage this.”

“I can’t promise anything.”

“Yes, you can. Don’t be a monster around her. Be a gentleman.”

I uncross my arms and spin the chair away from Dom. “Alright. Alright. Leave me alone. ”

“It’s my job to make you see reason, you know,” Dom says with a hint of a smile. He leaves, presumably to check that Harriet is still dead to the world, slowly processing her new reality as my future bride.

The phantom kiss of a knife’s tip runs down my spine, reminding me of the business that I still need to do. I recline in the leather chair, eyes pinned to my phone lying unused on the wooden desktop.

Four more minutes until my call with Cerbera. Four more minutes of peace before shit hits the fan.

After this conversation, Cerbera will know three things.

One: I have the woman I was meant to marry in my custody.

Two: The wedding will take place in four weeks’ time, whether she wants it to or not.

Three: Gregory Lombardo is dead, and I buried his body in a vat of acid.

Ford seems surprised to see me approaching Harriet’s room.

“Is she…?”

“Awake?” He shrugs, unconcerned. “Don’t know. I heard the bathroom door open and close a few minutes ago. But she hasn’t asked for anything other than for Juniper to be fed.”

Juniper grew attached to Harriet the moment Gregory’s heart stopped beating. As instantly as if they had known each other in a past life. It would have been more annoying letting the dog stay behind than it was to take it with us. Besides, she’s easier to deal with than her new owner. I like dogs better than most humans. They make their emotions clear, they follow demands easily, they leave their shit outside, and if you treat them right, they’ll protect your back no matter what. I keep that in mind as I open the door.

The woman in question isn’t in sight as I make my way into the room. I pause to take in the surroundings as if it will give me a clue as to who this woman is. Maybe I won’t have to get to know her. Maybe the walls will whisper to me what they’ve observed, saving me the trouble.

Unfortunately, there isn’t a lot of detail. The large bed is made, the clothes Dom purchased for her are in a neat pile, the space unnaturally clean. It has to be the doctor part of her, the ordered, sanitary part of her daily job that’s become a habit in her home.

As I round the set of marble topped drawers, the sound of fur swishing against a flat surface lets me know that Juniper is nearby. I find her sitting in the doorway to the bathroom. Her ears are forward and alert, though her tail gives away the fact that she’s somewhat pleased to see me. I keep my hands by my sides and take a step forward. A low growl rises in her throat. Her loyalty has shifted to Harriet. I can’t say I’m not disappointed.

I pin her with a displeased stare. She holds firm despite the conflict in her eyes.

“Juni? What’s wrong, honey?” Harriet calls, her voice bouncing off the tiles in the bathroom. The concerned tone pokes at my chest. This is the first time I’ve heard her speak without any fire sizzling underneath it.

In the aftermath of my silence, she calls out again, and I hear her feet moving. “Ford? Is that you? She’s already been to the bath—” She appears in the doorway and halts. Her somewhat lighter demeanor slips as a disdainful one replaces it. She’s wearing a matching taupe tracksuit set, her hair buoyant and shiny from having washed and blow dried it.

My face remains blank as I greet her, even though in my mind I’m trying to compute how I even noticed what she’d done after she had a shower. “Harriet.”

“Bolt,” she responds dryly. She folds her arms across her chest, her blue eyes like sapphires dipped in ice. “And it’s Dr. Lewis to you.”

I shrug. “Fine.”

She adjusts her stance, sizing me up. “I’m not really in the mood to be raped.”

“And I’m not that kind of man.”

A single hand lifts to rest on her chest like a 1950s southern housewife feigning surprise. “Aren’t you? Oh, how lucky am I?” I hear a distant growl. I think it’s Juniper, or maybe it’s me. Harriet doesn’t notice as she barrels on. “But you are the type of man to force a woman to marry you. What about our wedding night? Don’t we have to consummate our marriage to satisfy the contract ? Are Ford and Dom going to be our witnesses to our public coupling?”

My feet remain planted. My jaw, however, twitches like crazy. “Touching you is not one of my priorities.” And it never will be.

“Did you forget about how you kidnapped me!? ” she squeaks.

“You are legally obliged to fulfill the marriage contract.” I can’t help raising my brow, admonishing her like a petulant child.

“I don’t owe anything to my non-existent father.”

“Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice.”

Harriet’s shoulders stiffen. A shield rises in front of her facade as she gathers what little power she has right now. “Just in case you forgot. I remove balls for a living. I know how to do it quickly and I know how to do it slowly. Your choice.” She takes one step forward. Just one. I appreciate the courage it would take to do it .

“Slowly,” I answer. “I want to know how you handle me first.” Perverted, I’ll admit, but it’s difficult not to snap back at her when she bites first.

Harriet blinks in shock, then grimaces. She points her finger at my chest as she says, “If you ever come near me or touch me again, you’ll have to get a matching golden mask to wear under your cock.”

I take a step forward, deeper into the bathroom and closer toward the small, defiant woman. “I find your threats completely and utterly adorable.” She stares at my visible eye. Unflinching. At this moment, she looks more like her father than she ever has before. The only thing that separates the two is the lack of triumph in her gaze. She knows she’ll never win, but at least if she loses, she’ll do so with her posture straight and her face void of fear. I break the contact. “Pack your things. We’re leaving.”

“Where are you taking me?”

I turn, the gold eyepatch on my face catches the light from the bathroom ceiling. “Somewhere else.” I walk out of the bathroom, Dr. Lewis following behind me.

“Why?” she asks.

“It’s not safe here anymore.”

“Why is it not safe?”

I head toward the door despite her nipping at my heels. Once I’m across the threshold, I give her my answer. “You’ll learn soon enough.”