THE CHOSEN ONE
Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. Mature (18+) audiences only.
Read Episode 1 here.
“Das Biest is a father. You have heard?”
The woman around the table looked up from her poached pears. “A child?”
“How do you know?”
“I hear things. The black woman is the child’s mother. Do you want me to—”
“Yes. Go, now.”
* * * * *
Giorgio let his hand fall from the passenger side of the door handle.
Gage looked at him from over the top of the car, forehead wrinkled. “Something wrong, mate?” he asked. “You forget something?”
“Da.” Giorgio looked back toward the farmhouse, the first place he’d truly ever had to call home.
He’d done a lot between the time he’d officially moved in with his Bez and Aleksi’s birth. While she’d told him she’d loved the house the way it was, it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t been a home. Not until he’d painted the inside, every wall and piece of trim, the colors she’d wanted. Not until he’d broken down walls to find the brick hidden underneath to leave them exposed the way she’d seen on a home renovation TV show. Whatever furniture she wanted, he bought. If he couldn’t find it, he found a way to have it made.
His Bez assumed she’d given him a home by agreeing to be his wife and having his son, but it was much more than that. She’d given him things he didn’t think he would ever have, things he never thought he’d deserved. And she’d made him see just how much he did.
“I forget my wife,” he said, stalking back toward the front door.
Gage followed. “Mate, you know we can’t stay. It’s not time yet. We have a plan to stick to.”
Giorgio ignored him. There was no way he was going to leave them behind, not Mo and Aleksi. Anyone but them.
He pushed the front door open. A woman was standing in the foyer. On the floor in front of her, his Bez was shielding Aleksi with her body.
He started to reach for his machete, but before he had a chance to brandish it, the woman released four silent slugs into his chest.
Mo dashed up in bed. She reached behind the headboard for the pistol she kept strapped there. The Pozzas were a family of knives, but ever since she found out she was pregnant, she’d decided to add a little more heat to the mix.
The house was silent. There was no Giorgio getting shot in the entryway, no woman in the house. She checked the baby monitor to find Aleksi in his crib, awake but unharmed.
“Oh, God.” She set the gun beside her on the bed and let her face fall into her hands. “It was a dream, Mo. Just a dream.”
Tayler and Grey were due to join them in the morning, and she couldn’t wait. Although Gage wasn’t her brother, they’d grown up together. As far as she was concerned, his wife and child were her sister and nephew.
She pushed to her feet, stretched her arms over her head, and made her way down to Aleksi’s room. He was a good baby; he only cried when he was hungry for the most part. He was already a lot like his father, quiet and mysterious. They had the same dark eyes and dark hair, but Aleksi had blond strands interspersed that were most visible in sunlight. He had her nose and ears and, depending on his mood, a mix of both their smiles.
He also had her heart.
She’d never been more in love, could have never imagined being this much in love, with both the guys in her life.
It was odd, however, that he was awake in his crib in the middle of the night and not crying until the noise made her breasts ache.
She stepped into the room. “Little ryb—what the fuck?”
A woman, much like the one in her dream, stood over Aleksi’s crib. She was completely dressed in black, from the knitted cap on her head to the combat boots on her feet. Considering she hadn’t been on any of the cameras placed in the baby’s room, the woman had to have entered sometime between her checking the monitor and walking down the hall.
Mo grabbed a blade from the back of the changing table to her left. “Please step away from my baby,” she ordered. “I don’t want him to get your blood on his new onesie.”
The woman didn’t look up. When she spoke, her accent was heavy.
“This is really the son of Auserwahlte? Our Chosen One?”
Mo began to calculate in her head the best way to slit the woman’s neck without any harm coming to Aleksi. “I won’t ask you again. Step, the fuck, away from my son.”
The woman tilted her head, studying Aleksi. When she finally looked up, a scar slashed across her face from the inside corner of her right eye to the left corner of her mouth. “He does not look like him. But, I suppose, that is because of you. You are a black woman, so that changes some things about his face. Your race is a fascinating one, however. You are a beautiful but savage people.”
Mo started forward but was grabbed around the waist by someone behind her. The person was strong and, from the way the body felt, male.
“The baby comes with us,” the woman said.
Mo released the blade into the man’s thigh, pulled it out, switched it to her other hand, and jammed it back into his neck. A deep groan sounded behind her as the man fell.
The woman’s eyes rounded. “Who are you?”
Mo stepped toward the woman, swinging the blade. They were the same height and currently, she had the element of surprise on her side. They’d researched Giorgio, enough to find out he had a son, but not enough to find out who he’d had the son with. It was a handicap on their part. What kind of woman, other than her, would das Biest have a child with?
The woman brandished her own knife but was too late to block the blow. Mo slashed her blade across the woman’s face, giving her a matching scar, an X that completed the morbid artwork.
The nursery lights were dim, but she could tell the woman was slightly older—maybe in her early fifties. Her skin was pale and a shock of copper hair peeked from beneath her cap. Her eyes were a stark, cold gray, like the Russian winters Giorgio had told her about.
Mo slashed again, this time narrowly missing the woman’s throat, but she was able to change their positions so that she was now blocking Aleksi’s crib, and the woman was in the entryway, dabbing at her face in shock. There was a pistol strapped underneath Aleksi’s crib—which didn’t make her feel like the best mother—and she knew she’d be able to grab it and put a bullet in the woman before she had a chance to escape.
At least, she would have been able to before she’d had a life more valuable than her own to consider.
“I swear, if you come back to this house, I’m going to kill you,” she warned.
Whoever this woman was and whoever she represented, they’d been watching the house. When the men went on their missions, they were the only ones who knew. It wasn’t a coincidence they’d shown up the same night Giorgio had left.
“You think that will be enough to stop us from getting to him?” The woman jutted her chin in Aleksi’s direction. “He belongs to us. Auserwahlte belongs to us.”
Mo’s grip on the blade’s handle tightened. “Try and take my baby, bitch.”
The woman smirked. “Okay.”
Mo tossed the blade, narrowly missing the woman’s chest as she disappeared from the doorway. She didn’t hear a door open or shut, so she pressed a few buttons on Aleksi’s monitor, turning on all the lights in the house and slamming the door to the nursery.
She lifted him from his crib, went to his closet, and continued past the cartoon elephant wallpaper through a hidden doorway that led to a panic room. All the guys’ places had one, but she’d never expected to have to use the one at Giorgio Pozza’s.
The minute the door shut behind her, Aleksi started to cry.
She lowered into a chair and let down the strap on her nightgown. While he fed, she made a call first to Tayler to let her know there was a change of plans. And then, she made the call she never thought she would have to make, to Aleksi’s soon-to-be pissed Papa.
Giorgio cursed and tossed the tablet, the throbbing in his muscles nothing compared to the rage he felt that someone connected to Vater thought they could threaten his son.
Mo and Giorgio are from the book, “Angels and Assassins: The Dark Knight.”
My heart is with the nine people who lost their lives yesterday, including NBA Legend Kobe Bryant and his daughter, Gigi, a legend in the making.