Prologue
Mikel
I check my collar, popping it and then refolding it in the elevator as it goes up to the private meeting space that’s been rented out for today.
It’s rare for me to be in the States these days, and around all this hustle and bustle. It makes me fidgety and nervous as I get used to it all again.
Not that I don’t have creature comforts in South Africa, but it’s not the same. Not in the part I’m usually in, handling my seedy business dealings with mining for diamonds, making sure the Clans have little want for riches, as well as myself.
Unless I’m at home, which I don’t like to be most of the time.
I like to have my hands directly in my work and my eyes on those I employ. So, it takes me to rougher parts than my flat in Pietermaritzburg.
I catch a glimpse of my reflection and almost laugh at the man staring back at me who I hardly recognize. I’m not that much of a vain man, and it catches me by surprise that my hair and beard are a mix of salt and pepper. I can see the lines of my age showing just before the elevator opens onto the right floor.
I don’t feel old, and honestly, my old man went gray early also. Just a family trait. Some ladies like it, some don’t, not that I get around with too many of those these days either way.
I’m a bit of a lone wolf. Addicted to my work. And that works just fine for the woman I’m meeting today; the queen of the Clans, Mariana.
She stands as I come into the room and so does her companion. I give her a strange look until I realize who it is; her daughter, Bianca.
Bianca is a teenager now, seventeen, maybe eighteen. I don’t keep up with that, which makes me feel a little guilty as we say formalities and shake hands.
The reason I didn’t recognize her, is because, instead of bright, blonde hair like her mother, her hair is dyed pink. Though, I can see the similarities in their facial features now that I’m paying attention.
“It’s good to see you, Mikel. Thanks for meeting me here in Atlanta,” she says, her Romanian accent still coming through after all these years in the States.
“I’ll admit, it feels a little strange, but it’s good for a change of scenery every once in a while,” I chuckle, taking a seat across from her and to the right of Bianca.
“Yes, I agree. I was here on business anyway. I hope you don’t mind that Bianca is joining us. I’m preparing her for her future role as queen. So, she’ll be shadowing me often now.”
I nod in her direction. “Some big shoes to fill, but I’m confident it’s in her blood. Of course, I don’t mind.”
“So, I called you here today to discuss this charity in person, get the paperwork in order. I trust you’re still interested?” she asks, her nails tapping a couple times on the table.
Mariana and I discussed expanding my horizons with the Clans some time ago, though they’ve been preoccupied by those trying to take them down for a bit. We’re finally in a time of peace, or as peaceful as it gets for the mafia, when we can further our interests.
“Yes, of course.” I bow my head to her in a show of respect. Her question is a formality. You don’t turn down the queen. Period. Unless you have a death wish.
Or unless you’re Ion.
“Your position in Africa is particularly useful to us right now. We have an opportunity to help those that have been oppressed and abused as well as expand our territories, allies, and frankly, our name. Fear is sometimes worth more than cash.”
She sneers, and I’m reminded that as small and pretty as she is, she’s also deadly. Arguably deadlier than Ion, her husband. After all, she did survive years of abuse as a captive, her whole family dead, protecting Bianca all the way through.
“I can agree with that.”
She slides some papers over to Bianca and quietly instructs her to look at them, likely to understand the nature of this business agreement.
“I want to hear your ideas again,” she says, giving me the floor.
I was surprised when she came to me with something vague and then let me run with it, thinking of my own plan. It’s not often she’s so interested in what another Clan head has to say, no matter the fact I’m