Convicted: A Mafia Romance (4 page)

Watching where I stepped, I followed Davis inside. The interior was cleaner than the exterior, but not by much. Several tables and desks were spread out on the main floor, with a dozen or so large, two-sided white-boards surrounding the space. Several people were seated at the desks working. Immediately, I noticed two burly men leaning against a wall. They looked dangerous so I figured right away they weren’t attorneys. Sebastian’s men? The flicker of a gun inside the jacket of one of the men caught my eye. Definitely his men.

“Listen up everyone! Can I have your attention?” Davis yelled, his voice echoing across the warehouse. Everyone stopped what they were doing and gave him their undivided attention. “This is Haven Foster. Sebastian wants her to have a look at his case and we are to help her in any way we can.” Heads nodded all around the room.

“Hello,” I said, addressing the whole room. “I’m up to speed on the trial and I’m ready to get started. If anyone has ideas, please share them with me. The only way we will get Sebastian out of this mess is if we work together. I meet with him at the end of the week so let’s have some good news to share with him.”

For four days, we searched for holes in the case. While it all seemed on the up and up, I knew something was off. I hated that I wasn’t seeing it, but Davis – a seasoned attorney – hadn’t either. Disgusted that I, so far, hadn’t made any progress, I pushed on.

Eamon and Hackett, my newly-acquired shadows, were a menacing pair. Both men stood over six feet tall, their bodies wrapped in bulging muscles that could make a wrestler cry with utter envy. I’d never had bodyguards before and wasn’t sure I needed them now, but I’d humor Davis and Sebastian if that’s what it took.

Yesterday, I’d scheduled appointments with two of the most respected medical examiners in Austin, hoping that one of them would be able to give me some insight into what we might have missed. The first appointment of the day was with a Mariah Donovan at the city morgue. The second was with the county medical examiner, Becky Sweet.

Eamon poured his bulky body into the front seat of the black SUV, thrumming his fingers on the steering wheel as Hackett helped me into the backseat.

“Thank you, Hackett.”

He grunted as he closed the door. I’d half expected Hackett to ride shotgun with his buddy, leaving me alone in the backseat like a pricey piece of cargo but he didn’t. He rounded the vehicle, looking around before climbing in the backseat beside me.

We shot through town, headed for the city medical examiner’s office. Eamon parked in a nearby parking garage, opting to stay with the car as Hackett escorted me to my meeting. Avoiding the elevator, we took the stairs to the basement level.

The morgue was as I had imagined. A dimly lit corridor led to a set of swinging doors that swung open easily with the gentle push of my hand. I stopped in my tracks as I came face to face with Mariah Donovan, who at that very moment was elbow-deep in the stomach of her latest customer. Swallowing the rather large lump in my throat, I snapped my head to the side, avoiding the carnage before me. Hackett stood beside me, unbothered by the grotesque body, his lips in a thin line, absolutely zero expression on his face. How could he be so calm so unaffected? Right. The answer was so clear he’d probably seen or done much worse in his day.

“Mariah? I’m Haven. We spoke on the phone.”

“Yes. Just a second. Let me get cleaned up.” She dropped what looked like a stomach in a silver pan. The sick plopping sound of the organ coming to rest in the pan sent a chill down my spine. I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat and nodded.

Mariah removed her blood coated apron, pulled her purple gloves off, the latex making a solid snapping sound that almost made me jump out of my skin, and then washed her hands. After that, she put on a crisp, clean, white lab coat, looking like a completely different person from the one who had just been elbows-deep in a body.

“So... you have a case for me to take a look at?” she asked, shaking my hand.

“I do. We... I am rather certain that my client was framed. I was hoping that you could review the medical portion of the case. See if anything unusual stands out?”

“Sure.”

I handed Mariah the file folder, which included photographs of the body at the scene as well as in the morgue during the autopsy. Not wanting to leave any stone unturned, I also included lab work from the scene, the victim, and Sebastian.

She looked through the file. After a few minutes, a frown creased her face. “The original medical examiner was very thorough from what I see here. The autopsy was by the book and matches up with the photographs and findings in the summary. Without seeing the body myself, I’d say everything appears to be normal… but the lab work is a different story.”

I stiffened at her final words, excitement buzzing through me at the possibility of having our first real lead. “What do you mean?”

“It might be nothing, but this report here...” She handed me the document labeled Sebastian Christakos. “... It doesn’t match this one. Not exactly, anyway. It’s very close but not one hundred percent identical.”

Mariah sat each form side by side, pointing out the distinct differences between the two samples of DNA. Sebastian’s wasn’t an exact match.

“What exactly does that mean?” I asked.

“Both samples are male and from the same family line. But not the same person. It’s a close enough match that it could have been missed. Does your client have a sibling?”

“I...” I glanced at Hackett, who shook his head. Shit. “I don’t believe so.”

“In my opinion, and it’s just that... an opinion, I would suggest a look at the family tree. A DNA result like this points in that direction. It could be an unknown child.”

I was a little shocked. “Thank you, Mariah. I appreciate your time. May I contact you with questions if more should arise?”

“Sure. Good luck to you,” she said, returning to her bloody cadaver.

My meeting with Becky Sweet went much the same way as the meeting with Mariah, adding to my excitement even more. Eamon and Hackett remained quiet, offering little more than a few grunts here and there or nods of the head. Finally, not able to take the silence anymore, I commanded communication.

“You guys have to talk to me. A little human interaction isn’t going to kill either of you. I know what you are and I don’t really care one way or the other as long as I’m not on your... um... hit list. But talking helps me work through my thoughts, which will get your boss out of jail even faster. So talk, damn it!”

Eamon glanced into the rearview mirror, a smirk working across his lips. Hackett turned to face me and the dark look on his face made me shudder in my skin. “What do you want to talk about, then?” Hackett growled in a deep, Greek-accented voice.

Clearing my throat, I began with the one question that was driving me crazy, “The lab work obviously points to a male sibling. What do you know of Sebastian’s family?”

The men sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, my frustration rising to a boiling point nearing an epic explosion when Eamon finally spoke up. “Miss Foster, it is not our way to discuss the boss or his family. Men have died for less. What you ask of us is not a small thing.”

“I understand that. I am also sure, that given the situation, Sebastian would overlook your sharing details with me. After all, I will be using them to help him get out of prison.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eamon continued. “I have been with the Christakos family since Sebastian’s father was the boss.”

“And?”

“I was in my twenties the night Sebastian was born. Jaleesa, the boss’s wife, had a long, hard labor that night. I was stationed at the front door when the baby arrived. His cries could be heard throughout the house; so loud and strong. The sign of a strong leader. The boss came downstairs showing off his newborn son. The men clapped him on the back, wishing him well.”

He quieted for a moment, making a turn into the warehouse parking lot before continuing his story. “As the boss headed up the stairs, holding his handsome son, another wail sounded from the master bedroom. The boss ran up the stairs and into the bedroom. He didn’t come down the stairs again for a while. But when he did, he was overcome with grief. His wife had not survived the birthing.”

I gasped as Eamon finished the story. Well, I’ll be damned. The medical examiner was right. We now had a lead. The only problem was where to begin the search for this missing sibling. “So there was a second child,” I said, softly.

The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of organized chaos. Eamon’s story had given us the clue we needed to begin working towards Sebastian’s release, but it was a long-shot without physical proof of this sibling’s existence. Davis and a dozen other men were frantically calling every hospital, church, adoption agency, and police station within a hundred miles of the Christakos’ home, trying desperately to find a lead. At this point, any lead was better than no lead at all.

“Meg!” I shouted.

“Yes, Miss Foster?”

“You will be joining me tomorrow. I would like to get a fresh sample of Sebastian’s blood. I want to see how the new sample compares to Sebastian’s old sample.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Chapter Eight - Sebastian

“People are complicated. People have secrets. It doesn’t make them good people or bad people.”

- David Zayas

It was almost as if an electrical current was zipping through my body. I couldn’t remember the last damn time I was so excited to see a woman in my entire life. No matter how much I tried to keep a grim expression on my face, it just wouldn’t stay there. The corners of my mouth raised of their own volition.

In the chow hall, I sat with my men, who refused to meet my gaze. Maybe they thought the smile a tad odd, given it wasn’t a natural occurrence. If they only knew just what I had planned for today they’d be jealous as hell; burning with envy. I wouldn’t blame them. Some of my men had been caged for years without the touch of a woman. I couldn’t imagine what the hell that must be like because I was dying for it after only a month and some odd days. Fuck! I was starving for some pussy. So much so I could almost smell the sweet divine nectar right now. I’d kill for a woman’s sweet lips wrapped around my shaft, sucking for all she was worth, right fucking now.

I ate the slop they called food and watched the hands of the clock on the wall, covered in a metal cage, tick away, inching closer and closer to my scheduled meeting with Haven. Today, I would see if I’d read her body correctly. I was certain I had. That sweet little thing was hot as hell last week. I was sure of it. The thought of being alone with her had my cock standing at attention right now, eager to slide between her juicy folds.

An hour later, two guards girded me up in transport chains and, for a moment, I wished I’d asked the warden for a nice Armani suit to wear today. If only Haven could have seen me dressed in something better, she might have fallen at my feet on her own, without me having to play my game with her. But it was probably for the best. I liked my games. I enjoyed dominating my women. Astra hadn’t appreciated the game. She’d put her foot down instantly, flat-out refusing to submit. Our marriage could have been great, but she wouldn’t allow me that one thing. And that one thing defined me, made me happy.

Beavis and Butt-Head led me out of the main building to a smaller building, similar to a duplex apartment.

“If you’re thinking of trying anything stupid... don’t,” the short guard said, nodding towards a tower across the grass-covered yard.

“I’m not,” I growled as the other guard released me from the transport chains.

“The warden said you have four hours to meet with your attorney. That’s it, so make the most of it,” the short guard said, chains jangling in his hands as he turned to walk away.

I smiled as I watched them walk away. Four hours. Fuck. The things I could accomplish in four hours was mind-boggling. Reaching for the doorknob, I hesitated and gave a quick knock, deciding not to startle the young woman.

“Come in,” her sweet-as-silk voice sounded through the door. Turning the knob, I pushed the door open and stopped. My heart fell as my eyes landed on another young woman with a medical kit and small cooler.

“What’s this?” I asked Haven, pointing at the woman.

“This, Mr. Christakos, is your lab technician, Meg.”

Nodding, I entered the room, shutting the door behind me. “And why is it that I need a lab technician?”

“For blood work to compare to the samples the police collected. We... I would like to run a comparison that I know came directly from you.”

I sat in a chair across from Meg and extended my arm towards her. She looked like she was about to faint at the sight of me in prison whites. “I don’t bite, Meg. Just take the fucking sample and wait outside while I visit with Haven.”

Meg flinched at my words. The color drained from her face as she reached for her medical bag with a shaky hand. Haven let out a breath in frustration as my gaze met hers.

She was wearing a black skirt that hit just above the knee, with a white silk shirt. She looked so damn good. Part of me wanted to toss Meg out the fucking door so I could get down to business. But that would only piss Haven off. She was a by-the-book kind of girl; of that much, I was sure. It would be so much fun making her mine, bending her to my will. Oh, the naughty things we could do to one another. My cock twitched as I let my eyes lick every inch of her long, tanned legs. Fuck, I couldn’t wait for them to be wrapped snuggly around my waist as I drove my cock deep into her fucking pussy. I wanted to hear my name fall from her lips as she moaned in ecstasy at my touch.

The needle pierced my skin, jerking me from the sexy fantasy I was so damn close to making a reality. “Shit!” I growled.

“Sorry, sir. I just need a couple of vials and then I’ll step outside.”

I nodded and she offered a small smile.

“Okay,” Meg said when she was done, turning to Haven. “That’s all I need. I’ll wait outside at the picnic table. If you need anything, let me know.”