Page 64 of Devil’s Azalea (Nightshades #3)

ROMERO

Going to meet a girl.

Perhaps I should check my phonebook and call a woman up since that’s what they all think of me anyway—the fucking playboy who can’t keep it in his pants for longer than a heartbeat.

It was lighthearted teasing, I know. My brothers love to bust my balls about my reputation. But fuck, what the hell am I actually doing out here on this chilly February night?

My breath forms crystalline clouds in front of my face as I walk down the boardwalk towards the little garden cafe where my intel asked me to meet him.

Senator Julian DeMarco.

The name alone leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

When my right-hand man, Sandro, texted me earlier that he’d received a call from the senator’s secretary requesting a meeting— tonight —I nearly laughed out loud .

I’ve dealt with enough politicians to know their type: arrogant, deceitful parasites who think the world revolves around their schedule.

I told him to inform the secretary that I was having dinner with family and that his boss could make an appointment during business hours like everyone else if he wanted to meet me.

But apparently, the senator has never heard the word ‘no’ in his privileged life.

The persistent fuck somehow got my number from Sandro and spent the entire evening blowing up my phone.

Call after call after call, relentless as some fucking desperate ex-girlfriend, until I finally cracked and answered.

I heard you’ve been looking for a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed FBI agent?

He’d gone straight to the point, as if he knew my patience with him was running on fumes.

Those words were enough to grab my attention and convince me to ditch the dinner—not that anyone was expecting deep conversations by that point.

We’d already toasted the new year, celebrated Rafael and Emily’s marriage, and heard the incredible news about a new addition to the family—Elira and Maximo expecting their first child.

By then, the night had settled into quiet contentment, and I’m sure the other guys left soon after I did. I’m the life of the party, after all.

I tug my coat collar higher as another freezing gust slices across the back of my neck and slips beneath my thick jacket.

The cold is starting to piss me off almost as much as this mysterious meeting.

The glass door of the restaurant is only a few steps away now, but I slow as I reach it, studying the scene inside.

Brick walls. Mahogany floors. Empty—except for three men.

One sits alone at a corner table, and I recognize him easily: the senator himself. Dark hair greying at the temples, a square face with an aristocratic nose that looks like it has never been broken, and thin lips set in a severe line. The kind of face that screams ‘I’ve never been told no’.

A face only a mother could love .

I can’t help but smirk at that thought as I do a quick sweep behind me. To anyone watching, I’m completely alone out here. So if this is an ambush one of my enemies cooked up with the senator’s help, they’ll have quite the fucking surprise waiting for them.

Because I’m never truly alone.

I hate the show of force my brothers make with their little convoys and firepower, but I understand the need to surround yourself with men you trust—men who will have your back no matter what.

I just prefer a subtler approach. Four good soldiers who know how to blend into shadows and take down the vermin without anyone knowing they were ever there.

And as a defense attorney, I have more than a few people who feel they owe me, ready to take up that duty without question.

A soft jingling sounds above the door as I wrench it open and slip into the restaurant. The warmth inside hits me like a balm to my soul, and the rich smell of strong coffee hangs thick in the air.

The two other men inside—Julian’s bodyguards, obviously—get to their feet immediately, hands moving instinctively towards their weapons. But they relax when they see me, as if I’m somehow safe.

Amateurs.

But I suppose I am safe, in a way. As long as Julian DeMarco is dangling Katie in front of me, he’s safe from me and my brothers.

I’ve never met either of these bodyguards before, so I’m not sure how they recognize me. Julian must have shown them photos, briefed them on what to expect. I study them quickly, cataloging their weaknesses, their tells, their probable skill levels… and dismiss them almost immediately.

They have the stance of guys who learned to fight in a gym—structured, predictable, clean.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that for normal people.

But it’s no match for the ruthless roughness of someone who learned to fight on the streets purely for survival.

Someone who learned that in a real fight, there are no rules except win or die.

I have no doubt I can take the two of them quite easily if the need arises. Hell, I could probably do it with my eyes closed.

The real question is whether I’ll need to.

The senator remains seated as I approach, watching me with a strange light in his brown eyes. Even at nearly ten at night, he’s perfectly put together—pressed coat, black striped suit, tie sitting exactly where it should be. The kind of man who probably irons his underwear.

“What do you have for me, senator?” I ask without preamble as I slide into the empty seat across from him.

“Romero.” His lips quirk up in what he probably thinks is a charming smile as he takes me in. This is the first time we’ll be meeting, but I’ve heard of him and know who he is. “Glad you could make it. Hungry? The biscotti here is fantastic.”

He pushes a menu towards me, but I wave it away without even glancing at it. “It’s okay. I just ate. Tell me why I’m here.”

Julian leans forward, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. The kind of tone politicians use when they want you to think they’re sharing state secrets. But I’m not here for any of that bullshit. Not tonight. My patience is already stretched thin.

“You already know it’s about the woman you’ve been looking for,” he starts. “Katherine Pierce, right? Rafael’s FBI agent wife’s friend. The one who got shot last year.”

My jaw tightens until I can feel my teeth grinding together. So he’s done his homework. Great. Does he want a fucking cookie now? My stomach twists with a mixture of rage and anticipation, but I don’t let it show. “What do you know?”

“I know where she is.”

Fuck.

Excitement shoots through my veins. I can almost taste the imminent victory. But I keep my face impassive as I hold his gaze, forcing myself to stay still. To keep my tone neutral. “Then tell me.”

Julian holds up a hand, like he’s in charge of this conversation. “Not so fast. I’ve got a favor to ask first.”

Of course he does. It’s never that easy with politicians. I should’ve known.

I lean back in my chair, eyes steady as I cross my arms over my chest. “Then say what the hell you want. I’m not in the mood for games tonight.”

He shrugs, but his smile doesn’t waver. If anything, it gets wider.

“It’s nothing too serious. I just want to be seen with you.

A few appearances—campaign events, charity functions, that sort of thing.

Just enough to give my numbers a boost with a certain demographic.

You’ve got the kind of influence I need.

Those people respect you, Romero. They listen even when you don’t say a word. ”

I tilt my head, knowing it can’t be that simple. “And in exchange for that, you’ll tell me where Katie is?”

He nods, as if we’ve already struck a deal. “Exactly. And if you’re feeling generous, perhaps you could convince your brothers to join my campaign team. Now that would certainly cinch my victory as it will guarantee votes from the demographic I’m unable to reach.”

The demographic he’s unable to reach.

He means the people who prowl the gritty underbelly of the city. Rich men who couldn’t give a fuck what corrupt politician is in charge as long as they can buy them. Made men . Their soldiers. Even little vermin like gangsters.

I don’t respond immediately, just let his words hang in the air between us as I weigh my options. But the truth is, I don’t really have the time to play games with him. I need to find Katie.

Not just for Emily’s sake, though I know how much Katie means to her.

But because I feel a measure of responsibility towards helping the woman who helped my brothers and me.

If not for the secrets she exposed, we wouldn’t have gotten Stacey Rodrigues.

That poisonous bitch would still be breathing down our necks, causing problems, making our lives hell.

Julian pulls out his phone, taps the screen a few times, then slides it toward me. It’s a photo—me, carrying Katie in my arms after she was shot. Carrying her out of Rafael’s hotel where Emily held her conference with the press.

Blood. Pain. Her body limp against mine.

So fucking small and fragile.

I don’t so much as blink as the memory flashes through my brain. He’s trying to fish for a reaction, and I’m not going to give him one.

“Something going on between you and her?” His question cuts through the silence in the restaurant.

I stare at the photo for another moment before answering with a flat, cold, “No.”

Julian’s smile turns satisfied. “Good. Arianna still has a chance then.”

I can feel the edge of annoyance creeping in, but I keep it in check as I fix my gaze on him wordlessly, the urge to wring his thick neck almost overwhelming.

I hate being dangled on a string like a puppet, and as long as he keeps what he knows about Katie’s whereabouts to himself, he’s going to keep me dancing to his tune. Fuck.

“You don’t want to know who Arianna is?” he asks with a smug chuckle that grates on my last nerves.

I give him a pointed look, voice dry as ash. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“A sense of humor. I like that.” He chuckles again. “Arianna is my daughter. Just imagine being a senator’s son-in-law. Or hell, maybe even the president’s son-in-law someday. She’s my only child, which means you’d be like a first son to me. Think about it.”

He’s painting a picture he thinks should entice me. But he doesn’t know me at all.

The thought of being tied to him—to politics, to the kind of power that comes at the cost of losing everything I’ve worked hard for my whole life—makes my skin crawl. I’d rather eat glass than become part of his world.

But then I remember Katie. Still missing. Somewhere out there. Maybe even in danger. Possibly hurt. There’s no way to really know what’s happened to her in all this time.

So for her, I’ll play Julian’s little game. Until I have what I need.

“Fine,” I mutter. “Tell me where she is. Then we’ll see if this will be worth my time.”

Julian shakes his head with another goddamn chuckle. “Now, now, Romero. What do you take me for? As soon as I tell you where she is, you’ll have no incentive to cooperate with me and do what I want, will you?”

My jaw pops from how hard I’m gritting my teeth.

“Just relax in the knowledge that I know where this Katie is, and I’ll release that information in due time. As long as you keep to our deal. A few appearances here and there with me. Your brothers joining my campaign team. You meeting my daughter. Very simple.”

My hands curl into fists by my sides as the reality sinks in. Whether I like it or not, I’m stuck in Julian DeMarco’s web.

For now.

NEXT IN THE SERIES

The next book in the series is Devil’s Iris !