Chapter 34
The sky over Chicago was covered with clouds, a clear indication of rain. Deva could smell it even from inside the limo. And it wasn’t only rain that was brewing, but a storm. How quaint.
Gabrielle was sitting beside her, finagling on her phone, looking incredibly smart in her pale cream suit. Her blond hair was slicked back, held by a mean-looking barrette. Deva guessed that it may very well be a weapon in disguise.
Looking down at herself, Deva couldn’t believe that not even twenty-four hours earlier, she had been kidnapped by psychos, covered in grime and scratched with a nasty bump on her head. Now, she was wearing a suit that cost more than her last car. The deep copper color of her skirt and jacket offset her eyes and deepened the tone of her hair, the curls carefully tied in a chignon on top of her head. Deva Landry wasn’t there anymore. She wasn’t needed for the next step of the plan. Victoria Johnson, the daughter of the Dark Blood Rows’ president, needed to take the lead. That’s where her credibility lay.
“I can’t believe you could schedule a meeting with the Puerto Rican head in Chicago that fast. Did you get it by going through Hector?”
Gabrielle clicked off her phone. “No, using Hector was a possibility, but it would jeopardize his connections within the hierarchy. And we may need him later if our plan fails.”
Deva arched an eyebrow. “Because you expect it to fail?”
“I expect all my plans to succeed and to fail. And I plan for that possibility. That’s what Beatrice taught me. And she probably did the same with you.”
Deva nodded, her head reeling with the possibilities.
“And I think that you should think about your plan B with Aleksei too. I don’t know the entire story, Deva. But I know for a fact that half truths lead to big fucking regrets. And I don’t know about you, but regrets suck.”
Deva laughed. Gabrielle had succeeded in giving her hope, getting her into fighting mode. But first, duty.
The chauffeur clicked on the intercom. “We’re here, ladies.”
“Ready to roll, Deva?”
“Bring it on.”
The meeting with Mercutio Soltero was to be conducted on enemy turf. Café Reina, a famous Puerto Rican restaurant on Chicago Avenue.
Normally this time of day, the place would be packed. But not today. The restaurant was empty apart from the infamous mobster. He was comfortably waiting for them at a table, all alone. Or almost all alone.
When they entered, Deva saw Hector out the corner of her eye near the entrance but didn’t make any obvious sign of recognizing him. For now, Gabrielle’s plan was the way to go.
Mercutio Soltero was a tall, wiry man with short salt and pepper hair, and piercing dark eyes. As soon as he saw them, he got to his feet, beaming the whitest smile Deva had ever seen, very smart in his pale summer suit.
“Mrs. Thorne, Miss Johnson. An honor to make your acquaintance.”
Gabrielle nodded and smiled in return, offering her hand. “Mr. Soltero, how gracious of you to make time for us.”
“Well, knowing that the infamous Gabrielle Thorne was in my dear Chicago would have been reason enough, but now that Victoria Johnson had officially returned from the dead, it warrants a celebration. Glad you could return to the living, Miss Johnson.”
Deva took his hand and nodded. “Miracles exist it seems. Rest assured that I’m the first one to be surprised, Mr. Soltero.”
“Please call me Mercutio. Be seated. Care for a coffee? It is the best in the city.”
Gabrielle put her folder on the table beside her and nodded. “I long for a good coffee. And you, Deva?”
Mercutio smiled and gestured for a waiter behind the bar. “Ah, right. You are known by another name. Please excuse me. The last time I saw you, you were called Victoria.”
“No harm done. Time changes people, my new name signifies that change.”
“Many rumors circulated. One more persistent than others. That you fled an arranged marriage.”
Men, she thought. Clueless and stuck in their ways.
“What would you do if your free will was taken from you, Mercutio? And don’t talk to me about duty. I fear that it is an excuse for a severe lack of imagination or intelligence.”
Gabrielle inhaled sharply, but a quick look confirmed more of a disguised chuckle than a frown at her intervention.
