Until memory fades a bea.., p.1
Until Memory Fades: A Beauty in Lies Prologue, page 1
Until Memory Fades
A Beauty in Lies Prologue
Adelaide Forrest
About Until Memory Fades
I came for war. I left with an obsession.
* * *
With one look, Isa captivated me. She consumed me, drawing me into her world without ever knowing the dangers of mine.
But secrets lurk in the depths of her multicolored eyes, and I’ll do anything to understand what broke her before I had the chance.
Because one day, she’ll be mine to break.
* * *
Until Memory Fades is the prologue to the Beauty in Lies trilogy. This is a DARK mafia romance and contains graphic violence, mature content, and elements that may be triggering. Please read at your own discretion.
Copyright © 2021 by Adelaide Forrest
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Adelaide Forrest
Proofreading by Light Hand Proofreading
Created with Vellum
About the Author
Adelaide lives in her tiny house with her husband and two rambunctious kids. When she's not chasing all three of them and her dog around the house, she spends all her free time writing and adding to the hoard of plots stored on her bookshelf and hard-drive.
She always wanted to write, and did from the time she was ten and wrote her first full-length fantasy novel. The subject matter has changed over the years, but that passion for writing never went away.
She has a background in Psychology and working with horses, but Adelaide began her publishing journey in February 2020 and never looked back.
For more information, please visit Adelaide's website or subscribe to her newsletter.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Also by Adelaide Forrest
1
Rafael
Sixteen months ago.
The greatest shock didn’t come from walking up to a building stained with blood and tears, but from the cold and stark weather as snow drifted over the frozen ground.
Why did anyone insist on living in a place where the air hurt their face? And where the fuck was the sun?
The warehouse loomed in front of us as we left the rich, comforting warmth of the Ferrari. The massive structure might have blended in with the other abandoned commercial properties in the area, had it not been surrounded by an eerie feeling of death. Even in a graveyard for buildings, nothing could disguise the ghosts that lurked around Bellandi's famed warehouse. I didn't know that I believed in spirits, despite my mother's belief in the afterlife, but even I felt all the tortured souls who clung to this place where they had drawn their final breaths.
It certainly didn't help that they'd probably choked on their own blood as they fought for air.
An ordinary person might have wondered how Matteo conducted his wet work in such an obvious location without fear of repercussions, too lost in their grand illusions of being safe in their first world country, where crime couldn't happen to them and bad things only happened to strangers in the night.
Most people were naïve enough to believe the police could ever truly be a threat to men like us.
Then again, most people were fucking idiots.
At my side, Calix ran a hand through his hair, looking just as aggravated as I imagined he had to feel. While fighting in Matteo Bellandi's war was a necessary duty born out of allegiance, nothing could stop the impatience that came with knowing only a ticking clock stood between him and the girl he'd pledged to marry walking down the aisle to another man.
His rumpled suit was a stark contrast to the smooth lines of mine. In other circumstances, I might have reprimanded him to remember that people were always watching us and judging any imperfections they found. It was unnecessary to give them any more ammunition to work with.
After a long flight—even in the comfort of my jet—and knowing that he was mere hours away from his Thalia? I mostly couldn't fault him for it.
"You could have at least changed before we got off the plane," I argued, quirking a brow up when he groaned at me in response. "Need I remind you, Matteo Bellandi is my ally. He needs to be yours. You will be far more directly affected by his friendship than I will, given the proximity of Philadelphia to Chicago. Ibiza is an entire world away."
He scoffed in response. One of the few men who dared to show such impudence in my presence. But Calix had come to Ibiza when he wasn’t yet a man, his family banished from the city they called home in a violent uprising by the other families that had once been friends. He quickly became the closest thing I had to a brother.
"Right, because you don't have world domination on the brain," he said, falling into place behind me. I touched my hands to the front doors of the warehouse, probably taking my life in my hand as I grasped the knob and turned it. The heavy steel door heaved open with a groan, and I stepped into the vast, open space of the main warehouse.
"Doesn't look like they're here, after all," Calix grunted, glancing around the room. I pressed a finger to my lips before pointing down to the trail of blood splatter that led to the back hallway. Pulling my cell phone from my back pocket, I dialed Matteo's number one more time, hoping to alert him to our presence before it led to a bloody standoff.
The line connected as he finally answered my calls. "You're as bad as one of Simon's one-night stands today. Won't take a fucking hint. What do you want?" Matteo grumbled into the phone. The sound of a man's pained whimpers filled the background noise.
It seemed we hadn't arrived too late to enjoy the fun.
"Well, I suppose if I'm not wanted, I can take my men back to Ibiza," I drawled.
"You're early," Matteo returned. As if I didn't know that.
"Lorenzo indicated things were progressing faster than expected, and you might need assistance sooner. I live to please. Now, where are you hiding in your blood-soaked warehouse? I suppose we could play a game of hide and seek, so long as Ryker promises not to throw a hatchet at me when I win."
"Freezer at the back," Matteo grunted, disconnecting the call.
“You’re no fun,” I chuckled, glancing to Calix, who studied me with a demented smile.
"Wonderful. Like Chicago in February isn't cold enough, now we have to go inside a fucking freezer," Calix grumbled as I made my way for the hall at the back. With the worn edges covered in rust, the freezer door didn't look capable of functioning. But sure enough, Matteo stood outside the door with one of his men, waiting.
My eyes met Matteo's first, his gaze as hardened as mine. "It's good to see you, Rafael," he said. The man at his side widened his eyes, staring at me in shock for a moment before he snapped his face back into an expressionless mask. Not yet broken. If the mask needed practice, then his training hadn't been as thorough as what Matteo and I had lived.
"You mean it's good to know you have reinforcements," I said, my voice lacking all inflection. Matteo was perhaps one of the closest things I had to a friend, but that didn't mean we were warm and fuzzy. We had a mutual understanding. We stayed out of one another's way and only offered support or opinions when necessary.
He hadn't called and invited me to his wedding by any means. Though I had heard about it through the grapevine and been shocked. In our lives, women were a weakness.
I couldn't imagine any single woman ever being worth risking my life for.
"Mostly that. Just make sure your men behave while they're in my city," Matteo ordered, but there was no animosity to his tone. Our rules were fairly similar, though he was slightly more strict on protecting women. I didn't allow human trafficking in my organization, but I didn't protect people who weren't my concern either.
"They know the drill," I returned, making my way to the freezer door.
"Ryker's inside with his latest toy. You know how he feels about being interrupted." Matteo laughed. Calix took a step back, avoiding the doorway as I wrenched the door open and stepped into the freezer. The sound of something cutting through the air filled the space, the slight and nearly imperceptible whisper of Ryker's hatchet as it traveled through the space between us. I lifted my hand, catching it by the handle before it could sink into my shoulder. The wooden handle I held in my palm was stained with blood that had soaked into the porous surface over years of use, but fresh blood coated it where Ryker had gripped it to throw it at me.
Ryker grinned at me, his face twisting maniacally as my face split into a matching smile. "You missed," I said.
"One of these days," he said, wiping his hands on a rag and glaring at the blood caked beneath his fingernails. Calix and Matteo strolled into the room, sensing the foolish game, that would only stop when one of us was dead, had ended. Men like Ryker and I needed a bit of senseless violence in our lives.
It had been nearly a week since I'd watched the life bleed from someone's eyes. Considering there were only two ways to make a man like me feel alive, fucking and killing, I desperately needed a fix.
How fo
"Perhaps you would be liked more here if you didn't threaten the men," Simon barked from the corner. He always kept his distance from me. There again, he'd never been a fan of mine.
"I'm uncertain what gave you the impression I want people to like me," I said back, stretching my lips over my teeth in the bastardization of a smile. He scowled at me, rolling his eyes to the ceiling in a move I'd killed men for in the past. Matteo glared at his bodyguard, one harsh look making the other man straighten his posture and disguise his hatred.
Men took it so personally when you fucked their sister.
"He was one of our dealers until about a month ago. Then he just up and disappeared for a few days," Matteo answered. "Didn't hear a word from him, and we figured he was dead. He said he was visiting his sister, but we've had eyes on her. He was never there, so I'd like to know where he's really been."
"I bet he wishes he was with her now," I chuckled, trailing my eyes over Ryker's handiwork. Missing fingernails, entire sections of skin missing from his chest and stomach. "Are you close with your sister?" I asked him, grabbing his forehead and shoving his face until he stared up into my eyes. Touching Ryker's hatchet to his cheek, I let the sharp blade pierce the skin ever so slightly to punctuate my words.
"No," he wheezed, the tiny glance to his left the only sign that the words were a lie.
"Hmm," I said, playing along for the moment. "What about your wife?" I asked, grabbing his left hand and snapping the ring finger back until it cracked and he yelled out in pain.
"She has nothing to do with this," he rasped.
"I'm not a Bellandi, boy. She's about to have everything to do with this if you don't start singing," I said, smiling at him as I slid the wedding band off his finger and tossed it into the air. "Maybe I'll even wear your wedding ring while I fuck her. I always wondered what it was like to be married," I teased. I was many things—a criminal and a murderer among them—but a rapist I was not. He didn't need to know his wife would beg for more if I paid her a visit.
They always did.
He swallowed, glancing to Matteo to see if the other man would interfere with my threat. He wouldn't, because Matteo knew that there were certain lines I wouldn't cross. I clung to my humanity by a shred, and I wouldn't sacrifice the rest of my soul to the devil by forcing myself on a woman who didn't want me. Not when I never lacked for a willing bed companion. No woman was worth that.
"He said he'd rape her and kill her if I didn't do it," he whispered, glancing to Matteo. "I'm sorry, Boss. I didn't—"
"Do what, Jake?"
"There's a bomb in the cash bag. He has the detonator. He's supposed to monitor Sandro after he picks it up and detonate it when he goes to collect from Indulgence. Sandro parks the car close enough to do decent damage to the back, and the hope is he'll take out Lino and Enzo in the process," Jake admitted, hanging his head. "That's all I know. Just, please, get my wife out of town before Murphy comes for her." The name Murphy made anger flood my veins. He was a man who wanted nothing more than to take Matteo’s city from him and turn it into a trafficking hub.
"He should leave her to die for your betrayal. If you had come to him in the first place, that's when he could have offered to protect her," I snapped, stepping out of the man's space. There was nothing I detested more than a traitor who turned his back on the organization that gave him a home and put food on his table, when others might have condemned him.
"I'll see that she and your sister get a ticket out of Chicago. That's the best I can do, given the circumstances," Matteo said. He nodded to Ryker, who held out his hand for his hatchet, waiting for me to hand it over so he could deal the killing blow.
I smiled at him instead, swinging the hatchet into Jake's forehead so it lodged directly between his eyes. Blood trickled down the sides of the blade, running over his lips until his head slumped forward and the handle propped him up slightly when it hit his chest. Ryker pouted as Calix chuckled, shaking his head as if it was childish that Ryker and I fought for the right to kill people.
Turning for the door, I tugged it open and accepted my jacket from the man who foisted it on me anxiously. Patting his cheek briefly to thank him for keeping it pristine, I shrugged it on and made my way for the front of the warehouse. "Where are you going?" Matteo asked.
"I think I'll pay my friend Enzo a visit!" I called back as Calix hurried to keep up with me.
The fucking icy wind of winter greeted me the moment we stepped outside.
Why couldn't war come in July?
2
Rafael
It wasn’t the first time I’d been to Indulgence, though it had still been under Matteo’s father’s management then. After his father’s untimely demise, Matteo renovated and brought the club into the modern era with clean and modern lines that reminded me of my own clubs in Ibiza.
Only the best of timeless elegance for our houses of endless sin.
A man I’d never met before headed us off before we could make our way up the winding steps to the offices, stepping into our path with his arms crossed over his chest. “We’re here to see Lorenzo Vescovi,” I said, knowing from our conversations that the name would aggravate Enzo to no end.
“He’s busy,” the man said shortly. “What can I do for you gentlemen?” He glanced toward Calix and the two silent bodyguards at our backs, and I smirked at the reinforcement of my earlier statement. In our business, appearances mattered. One either needed to be a stone-cold man in a suit who tolerated no shit, or a meathead with tattoos covering all visible skin, if he wanted to intimidate the locals.
Sometimes both.
“Enzo will want to see us. This is Calix Regas, and I am Rafael Ibarra,” I said, watching as recognition settled over the man’s features. He nodded dutifully, turning on his heel and guiding us up the steps and past the VIP area. Up another flight of stairs, and we came to the offices on the top level of the converted warehouse that housed Matteo’s favorite nightclub.
The door of the first office stood ajar, and our guide lurked in the open door. “Yeah?” a male voice asked from within. Having had enough phone conversations with Enzo to coordinate our assistance, there was no doubt in my mind that he was the voice’s owner.
“Rafael Ibarra and Calix Regas are here—” His voice cut off as Calix and I shouldered our way into the office. Santiago and Nikolaus lurked in the hallway behind us, standing guard without getting in the way. They’d make themselves known at the first sign of trouble, but they relaxed in the moments where we were as safe as possible with allies.
“The polite thing to do is wait for me to invite you in,” Enzo said, a grin teasing his mouth. His gaze moved to Calix and he nodded his greeting, reminding me that the two men had met several times when I sent Calix to represent me in business dealings, when I couldn’t be bothered to come stateside. A dark smile played at my lips when his attention came back to me, and he blinked at the shock of mismatched eyes that often drew attention to my face and worked to camouflage the devil that lurked within.
“Enzo,” I greeted, holding out a hand for him to shake.
He grasped my hand, returning the gesture with a polite smile. “Can I get you anything?”
“What about me?” Calix grinned, moving to the whiskey on Enzo’s desk and helping himself to a drink. “Fuck, I forgot what a bitch that flight is.”
“You’re early,” Enzo said, smiling at Calix indulgently.
