The Iron Tiara

Anthony glanced at the man who only nodded.

“Dusty will get you taken care of. You need a ride somewhere to get your stuff?” he asked Anthony.

“Yes,” Anthony replied. He’d hidden his small number of belongings behind an abandoned building downtown.

“Dusty will handle that too,” he said as he slapped Anthony on the shoulder. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Anthony,” he answered quickly.

“Welcome to the family, Anthony.”

Before Anthony could reply, Red added, “And, kid?”

“Yeah?”

“If I ever catch you stealing anything from me again I will personally remove your testicles and feed them to you one nut at a time.”





Chapter Five





Naples, Florida 1978





Anthony shifted the rich girl’s Corvette into gear and peeled out of the Chapmans’ driveway. He glanced over at the woman he'd carried to the car and knew he didn't have much time before she woke up. He should've just driven her directly to X's house instead of having X meet him at his place. Then again, Anthony hadn't expected her to be so difficult. He wasn't used to having someone so blatantly disregard his authority.

He thought about his decision to use her as a bargaining tool to deal with Chapman and now wondered if he'd been too hasty. He was used to making quick decisions, but he may have let his anger get in the way this time. Now that he thought on it, he could've waited to face Chapman and intimidated the man, but his irritation at the bookkeeper's revelation, Chapman's massive debt, and Denny's betrayal only fueled a fire within that was starting to intensify from a simmer to a boil. When he discovered that Chapman's stepdaughter happened to be the epitome of almost every wealthy woman he'd ever dealt with, something snapped inside. A long-buried rage had risen to the surface, and it almost pained him in some twisted way to admit he wanted to hurt her. Not physically, like the bang she took to her forehead, but emotionally. And he couldn't understand why.

He admired her for about half a second when she came at him with the hairbrush. Then after discovering how much she despised her stepfather, he had the fleeting thought that maybe they could work together. But despite her intense hatred for Van, it was obvious she wanted no part of Anthony's arrangement.

He glanced over at the woman who looked like she was sleeping and noticed the knot on her forehead was becoming more prominent. He should get some ice on it. He was a businessman and knew better than to return damaged goods. He punched the gas pedal.



Alexander drove his motorcycle along the winding desolate road that led to Anthony's house. He'd waited at the camp for Anthony's call. When it came, Anthony explained in a hushed whisper that he couldn't go into details, but he needed X to host a special houseguest for a couple of days. He didn't want this particular guest brought to the camp. The less people who knew about this person, the better.

X wasn't in the mood, so he hoped that whoever he or she was, they wouldn't give him too much trouble and could take care of themselves. He didn't like being confined to any one place for too long—not even his condominium on the beach. He was momentarily stunned when a yellow taxi cab came around a curve and almost ran him off the pavement. This was strange. Anthony's house was the only residence at the end of this never-ending road. He took a quick look back and saw the driver's head. Nobody else was in the cab. He was probably lost.

X pulled up to the front of Anthony's home and turned off his bike. There were no vehicles out front to indicate whether or not he was there yet and all three doors on the detached garage were closed. He jogged up to the front door and without knocking started to let himself in when it swung open. He was taken aback when a beautiful woman started rambling, "My flight was canceled, and I can't get another..." Her words slowly died off as she stood there surprised, her mouth slightly ajar.

"You're not Anthony," she said, the expression on her face one of curiosity, but not fear.

This surprised X because it wasn't the normal reaction he usually received. He knew his appearance was intimidating by the way people instinctively moved out of his way. Whether at the grocery store or in the bank line, others always stepped aside for him. A little over six-foot tall and solidly built, X wasn't covered with tattoos or piercings. Yet people were intimidated by his eyes. His ice blue eyes that seemed to instill fear. Not to mention the way he carried himself. He exuded self-confidence and an understated coolness.

"Neither are you," X answered calmly as he took in her appearance. She was apparently one of Anthony's sluts, but not his usual. Bear liked his women tall, dark, and thin. The woman that stood in front of X was dark, and that was where the similarities ended. She was eye level with the underside of X's chin. She wasn't slender or overweight, but rather full-figured and curvaceous. Her large brown eyes hinted at defiance and intelligence and she had straight, jet-black hair that fell well below her waist. Alexander loved long, silky dark hair on women and he fleetingly wondered what it would feel like between his fingers. What was he doing fantasizing about one of Bear's whores? No way. Alexander didn't like whores. Especially this one as she now stood with her hand on her hip like she owned the place.

"Tell him I'm here," Alexander barked. It wasn't a polite request, it was an order. He stepped forward as if to move past her when she took an assertive stance, blocking his way. He caught a whiff of her and detected something fresh and mellow with a touch of mint.

"He's not here," she barked back.

This surprised Alexander. He'd never known Anthony to let any of his women hang at his house when he wasn't there. Not even Veronique. When she finally realized a few months ago that Anthony wasn't capable of sharing his heart, she called it quits. He remembered how he'd been waiting for Bear in the front yard when she came barreling out of the house. As Veronique had jumped into her car, she complained that Anthony definitely got the job done between the sheets, but afterward he clocked out emotionally. There would never be pillow talk or breakfast in Anthony Bear's bed, and she was sorry she'd wasted a year of her life. Alexander told her he didn't care. His apathetic response made her angrier, and she sped off in typical Veronique fashion. That must've been when she came to her senses because X hadn't seen or heard from her since.

"Hello! Excuse me! You heard me say he's not here, right?"

"Then how did you get in?" he asked, his brows drawing together.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I used my key," she answered a little too arrogantly.

She was lying. Anthony didn't give keys to women he was sleeping with.

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