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chapter 23: The Power Shift

Luca’s apartment hadn’t changed. The leather furniture, wood floors, and framed black and white photographs lent a sense of gentility Luca himself lacked, but the decor gave Indigo no comfort. Her attention kept drifting to the spot on the floor where Luca’d finally cut Rocco’s body from the chair, the corpse falling with a wet thud to the tarp below. She took a sharp breath through flared nostrils, forcing the image away.

Remembering that wasn’t going to help a bit.

Luca’d been impatient in the car, groping her as he’d driven home. She was relieved he wasn’t using a driver, or she was certain her plan would have ended with a quick f*ck in the backseat. As it was, Indigo calmly headed for his bedroom, setting her purse on the floor and leaning down to unzip the bag. Luca came in behind her, groaning at the sight she presented, ass in the air. He ran his fingers over the curve of her hip, tracing her shape, and Indigo stood back up, pulling away from him.

“Patience,” she said with a coy wink. “You’ll like this more if you relax.”

“I’ll like it just fine like this,” Luca said, watching her with hooded eyes.

She leaned down again, pulling a narrow riding quirt from the bag and tossing it onto the four-poster bed. Next she took out a feather boa and a hand-held vibrator, hoping she’d remembered his particular interests. From the look on his face, she had. Luca reached out, tugging her against the hard line of his erection, but she shooed him away.

“Get yourself ready,” she purred, holding still so he could kiss her and forcing herself not to remember Jude. “And I’ll make it worth your while.”

Luca tugged off his clothes with impatience, flopping down on the bed like an oversized child, and putting his hands behind his head. Indigo peeked over at his body, heavily muscled chest leading down to corded legs, and then back at the bag. She reached out, turning down the lights until the room was in hazy twilight, setting a few more toys on the side tables, and then coming back around to the bed where he lay. Luca reached out, grabbing her by the wrist, and dragging her forward.

“You’re wasting time,” he growled.

Indigo giggled, forcing the fear away.

“I’m getting ready,” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

He groaned, releasing her and she stood up again, legs shaking. Indigo reached for the mp3 player next to the bed, flicking through Luca’s playlists until she found one named ‘Indigo’. She winced. That’d been one she’d put together for him, back when she’d serviced him as often as anyone else. The playlist was the rest of his fantasy with her: the woman of the world. She clicked play and the soft lull of classical music filled the room. Tonight, she left the music playing a little too loud, but if Luca noticed, he didn’t complain. She stood, backing away from the bed, and began to undress.

Indigo swayed to the music, peeling off layers until she was dressed only in a lace bra and panties. Luca watched her like a starving man, his breath growing ragged. One hand dropped down from behind his head, and he began touching himself, stroking in time to her movements. Feeling his attention changing, Indigo climbed on the bed, trailing the boa over his chest as she writhed above him. She climbed down lower, pushing his hand away from his cock, and taking him in her mouth. This would normally be the part when she’d hide inside herself. Not now.

She needed all her focus to do this.

Luca’s breath was ragged, the muscles of his legs tensed, when Indigo finally let go. She moved up onto him, straddling his hips. She took hold of Luca’s hands, pushing them above his head, and kissed him. For a split-second, she could feel him resist, but she didn’t stop. For all that he liked to be in charge – liked to tie her up, and use the whip – he liked Indigo in charge even more.

She kissed him hard, her body hovering in position, as she held his wrists above his head. He was playing along, letting her do this to him, and the second he relaxed, she let go with one hand, reaching over to the side table, and groping for the cuffs. In a rush, she slapped the cuff around his wrist attaching it to the corner post of the bed, then reaching for the second cuff.

Luca was faster; he grabbed hold of her arm, fingers tight.

“What the f*ck?” he snorted. He glanced up, squirming for a moment, then chuckling. “Take it off.”

Indigo moved backward, out of his grip. He had one arm stretched out above his head, the other sitting loosely on the sheets next to him. Luca’s smile twisted sardonically.

“Indigo,” he said dryly. “I’m happy to play your games, but you’re going to be the one tied up.” He shook the cuff, the first flicker of annoyance appearing behind his features. “Take it off.”

Indigo climbed off the bed, adrenaline rushing through her. She needed the other cuff on to hold him, but she’d been too slow. He was held in place, for now, but he wouldn’t stay like that for long. Time was running out.

“I can’t,” she said calmly.

“What?” he coughed, his tone changing to indignation.

“I need you to tell me where Jude Alden is.”

Luca struggled until he sat upright, one arm linked to the wooden headboard.

“You stupid bitch,” he sneered, “uncuff me right now!”

“I need to know what happened to Jude,” she said tremulously. “I know he was working for King!”

Luca turned to the bed, struggling furiously against the handcuff for a few seconds. When he turned back toward her, his eyes were narrowed, face piggish with fury.

“Uncuff me!”

“I will!” Indigo cried, voice breaking. “I promise, I will, but only when you tell me what happened to Jude!”

Luca went still for several seconds, the muscle in his jaw jumping.

“Or you’ll do what?” he growled. “Cut me up? Torture me?” He let out an angry laugh. “You won't do it. You're too weak. Ungrateful cunt!”

“Where’s Jude!”

Her hands had risen into fists, but she could feel tears ready to fall. Everything was f*cked, and there was no way she was going to get out of this. Luca’d find her, and hurt her. She’d seen him do it before!

“Let me go!” he ordered.

“Tell me where Jude is!”

Luca jerked hard, and the bedframe groaned. A trickle of blood drew a line down the inside of his wrist. Indigo swallowed hard, seeing it. There’d been so much blood with Rocco.

“You let me go,” he said coldly, “or I’ll make you regret this.”

“I… I can’t!” she stammered.

There was a sudden rush of motion as Luca tugged and flailed against the creaking bed. The cuff held. When he turned back to her, his face was flushed almost purple.

“You owe me your f*cking life!” Luca roared. “I took you off the street! I took you in! F*ck! I even killed Rocco for you! You owe me!”

Indigo moved closer, anger pushing away her fear.

“That’s a lie!” she yelled. “You killed Rocco for your own reasons too! I was just a good excuse!” Luca’s eyes widened, but Indigo wasn’t finished. Her voice was shrill, body shaking with years of rage. “You’re not the only mobster I ever f*cked,” she screamed. “And you’re not the only one who ever talked. Everyone wanted to know who killed Rocco, and everyone thought it was King! And you never, ever changed that!”

She wiped a trembling hand over her lips, stepping back a pace. Luca was motionless. He stared at her with a different expression now: distrust. Seeing it, Indigo smiled angrily.

“You’re the one who owes me,” she said coldly. “Now where is Jude?”

Luca twisted against the chain, another line of blood joining the first.

“Stupid shit is probably in the bottom of the river by now,” he scoffed. “Mind you, they won’t find him. They never do.”

Indigo wavered in place, vision swimming.

“What did you do?” she gasped.

“I didn’t do a f*cking thing!” he snapped. “Now uncuff me!”

Luca tugged hard against the corner post of the bed, the frame groaning. Indigo stumbled backward another step, her hands and legs numb.

“I… I don't believe you,” she cried. “I don’t—”

“Patel was supposed to bring Jude in,” Luca snapped, “but the stupid kid ran. Patel shot him in the back.” He paused, struggling against the cuff. The bedframe squealed as he lunged and pulled like a dog on a leash. “Now uncuff me, Indigo, or I swear to God you’re gonna wish you had!”

Indigo stumbled, going to her knees. Clothes lay scattered on the floor around her, the bag of toys tipped over on its side.

“You killed him,” she whimpered. “You did it.”

Luca turned, putting his hand around the cuff and heaving. The bed lurched sideways with a squeal, mattress shifting, but the cuff held.

“Patel! Not me,” he snarled. “Now uncuff me!”

Indigo looked up. Her face had lost the fear of seconds before. Her eyes were empty, like a doll’s.

“No.”

Luca stared at her, fury twisting his features into a monster rather than a man.

“What’re you gonna do, Indigo? Think this through. Think!” he raged. “You’re a f*cking whore who is about to cross the second-most powerful man in the mob. You think you’re gonna walk away from this? You think you can start over? We’ll find you. I’ll find you!”

Indigo reached out for Luca’s coat where it lay on the floor next to her knees.

“You won’t,” she said dully. “Because you’ll be dead.”

She rifled through the pockets, dropping the cash onto the floor, then checking the inside. At the side of the room, Luca had begun dragging the heavy bed inch by inch toward her, the wooden frame shifting and cracking with each lurching step. Indigo’s hand slid into the last pocket, pulling out the gun Luca’d taken from the table at The Vault. She lifted it up, turning off the safety the way she’d seen Luca do.

Luca stopped moving, eyes wild.

“You won't do it,” he hissed. “You’re not strong enough! You're a nobody, Indigo! A nothing! I’m the one who gave you a life! You’re just a—”

“You’re wrong!” she screamed, lip curling. She stood from the floor, stepping toward him and pointing the gun at the center of his chest. “I was always something, only you never saw it. You’re the one who made me a whore! You’re the one who took my life away!” She cocked the gun. “And I’m just starting to build it again.”

Luca sprang forward, the bed post shattering like kindling. He slammed into Indigo, taking them both to the floor, the gun hitting the ground and discharging, deafening them. In the strange silence that followed the gunfire, everything seemed to shift into slow motion. Indigo kicked and thrashed, trying desperately to get away, but Luca’s hands were a vise around her neck. The room had just begun to fade when the door of the apartment exploded inward, banging against the wall. Luca’s hands released, and Indigo began to gasp.

“This is the police!” a voice on a megaphone ordered. “Put your hands on your head!”

Luca sat up, reaching for something on the floor.

“Hands on your head!” the man roared, “or I will shoot!”

Indigo rolled to the side, coughing, while a team of uniformed officers swarmed the apartment. Luca was forced to lay down, face first, on the ground, then cuffed and led away. Indigo’s ears were still ringing, but other noises had begun to intrude. She felt, as much as heard, footsteps near, a woman’s feet pausing next to her. The officer stooped down, her face grave. She had a blanket in her hands, and she laid it over Indigo’s nakedness.

“I’m Detective Anya Schaeffer,” she said quietly. “It’s over. You’re going to be alright.”

And with that, Indigo began to cry.

: : : : : : : : : :

In the hour before dawn, the office of Tyrone “King” Fischer was unexpectedly occupied, the three figures within silhouetted by a single light on the central desk. Behind it sat King, fingers steepled. On the other side of the room, Patel paced nervously, cell phone in hand. He spoke in low tones, the words fading in and out. “…have you checked to see if anyone saw him after The Vault? Did he come back later…?” On the far side of the room stood King’s sister-in-law, Gina, her hair sleep-rumpled. She fiddled nervously with the pearls around her neck, breath coming in sharp gasps.

“Are you going to tell me why you brought me here?” she asked shrilly. “It’s the middle of the night, Tyrone. That’s not a social call.”

He stared stonily forward, his mouth a slash of indignation. There’d been trouble tonight, things tumbling out of control. King was determined to find out why. Throughout the city, individual cogs in the great machine that was King’s empire had begun to break down. People disappearing. “…Is there anyone there who saw Luca afterward? Did he have a driver, or go alone…?” In the last four hours, a dozen men and women on King’s payroll hadn’t checked in on schedule. Like Luca Brin, none of these people could found.

King was determined to find out why.

“You’re here,” he said, “because your informant Officer Brodie didn’t check in tonight.”

Gina’s fingers paused against her throat, eyes widening. The room was filled only by the murmuring of Patel. “…has anyone checked to see if he showed up at his apartment? There are cameras there…”

“Brodie didn’t check in?” Gina repeated, cheeks blanching.

King smirked. He liked her better when she was scared. “Your men should have told you that,” he sneered. “Or maybe they did.”

Her posture stiffened at the accusation. “No!” she hissed. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

King’s smile curdled, his eyes narrowing in disgust. He hated Gina Cerritos almost as much as he’d hated her brother, Rocco. He just wished that Gina had dug her own grave too.

Behind them, Patel’s voice rose. “… and you’re certain of that? The cameras show just two people going into the apartment? That’s it?”

“I know what you’ve been up to,” King growled. “I know because I’ve had people watching you.”

Gina gasped, nostrils flaring.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” he sneered. “You’ve got half the Cerritos ready to turn on me!”

“They’re my family!” she snapped. “You can hardly accuse me of talking to them!”

Before King could answer, Patel cleared his throat, stepping toward the two of them. “Excuse me, sir,” he said coolly. “I have some news.”

Both King and Gina turned.

“Did you find him?” King asked. He wouldn’t admit it, but Luca’s disappearance bothered him in a way the others didn’t. There were few people that he trusted. Luca would be hard to replace, and even harder to dispose of, if it came down to it.

“No, sir,” Patel answered, “but I found out who he was with when he went back to his apartment.” He glanced up at Gina, glowering. “It was one of Rocco’s girls.”

“What?!” she cried.

“Rocco had a few favourites,” Patel continued. “Girls he tended to enjoy more than others.”

“Then what’s the delay?” King bellowed. “Bring her in!”

“It’s not that easy, sir. She doesn’t work at the club anymore. I don’t know her, but if the word on the street is right,” Patel said, his voice oily and smooth, “someone else here does.”

For a moment, his eyes caught on Gina’s. This time he didn’t look away.

“Bastard!” she screamed.

King stood up, hands in fists.

“You!” he bellowed, his finger jabbing toward Gina. “You set this up! This girl is working for you!”

“No!” Gina argued, “I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“Patel,” he barked. “Get rid of her!”

“You can’t, Tyrone!” Gina shouted, as Patel came forward, gun raised. “We’re family!”

“By marriage, not by blood,” he spat. “And that ends tonight.”

Patel took her arm, the gun pressed against her ribs.

“Come along now,” he said, “It’s time to go.”

Gina tugged against him, her eyes on King. “You wouldn’t dare!” she shrieked. “You’ll start a war, you bastard!”

“It’s a war you started!” King snarled. He pointed to the door. “Patel! Get rid of her, and make sure she isn’t found!”

Gina made a whimpering sound, as Patel caught hold of her again. He dragged her toward the door, his hand a claw on her arm.

“Keep walking, Ms. Cerritos,” Patel ordered. “I wouldn’t want to have to hurt you.”

In seconds they were gone, and King sat alone, revelling in the moment. He had men in the city now, searching for answers. Whoever else was working with Gina would soon be in his hands. He just needed to wait, and then he’d destroy them.

Somewhere in the distance, a siren began to keen, the sound bringing with it a decade-old memory. Ten years ago King had quelled a similar uprising. There’d been an upstart mobster who’d taken the first steps toward separating himself from King’s empire. The man owned properties along the waterfront, and he’d been skimming from his payouts. When King’s thugs had caught the man, he’d sworn his innocence, but by then it had been too late for amends. The warehouse had been doused with gasoline, the man tied to a chair in the upper floor, and the building set alight.

The sirens down on the street rose, and King chuckled.

The firemen who’d gone in had made it to that floor, but they hadn’t made it out alive. He hadn’t planned that part, but it gave him satisfaction all the same. You were only as powerful as you were feared, and the media storm that had followed that fire had done more for his power than a single death ever could.

Outside the windows, the sun reached the horizon, columns of light touching the buildings of the city. The sirens on the street abruptly stopped, and King smiled to himself, a great sense of peace riding over him. Something of terrible magnitude was unfolding tonight, but he was determined to rise above it. He’d done it before and he’d do it again.

‘Yes,’ he thought with dark humor. ‘I’ll smoke out the rats, then burn them all.’