The Masseuse Read online

  Vince handed him a new phone. He found the names in his contacts and sent out a brief message: 7 p.m. My place. Family meeting. – K.J. Stone

  As Vince whipped out his own phone and checked his incoming message, he sighed. “They’ll be tailing you, you know.”

  Ramsey stared out at the passing cars and buildings as the driver navigated busy New York City. He knew that. “When did it become a crime to meet with family?”

  “Just pointing that out,” Vince replied. “Are you going to launch your suspicions about the pig?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Be careful. Pig thinks he’s in the clear. We don’t want him slinging mud everywhere.”

  Even as Ramsey accepted that, he already had plans for tonight. If one of his own family was betraying him, he was breaking a code so old, so ancient, he’d have to pay for it. Ramsey’s thoughts unconsciously went back Bastian. Although he wanted badly to dismiss him, everyone but Vince was suspect, and if Ramsey found out that Sebastian Stone had been responsible for the raid on Jezebel’s home, once-and-for-all, blood brother or not, he’d break the ties that bound them.

  ***

  “Jez, do you want breakfast?” When she didn’t answer, Delilah continued. “I made eggs, bacon, hash browns.”

  Jezebel tuned her out and burrowed further under the covers. It was blazing outside but the A/C had been on since last night, and she didn’t have the energy or will to stand and take it off. As such, she used covers.

  “Jezebel?” Delilah’s voice grew firm, and there was a slight knock, before her sister attempted to push the door in. It didn’t budge because Jezebel had locked it before she went to bed. After long hours staring around an interrogation room, Jezebel’s attorney, Fiona Abrahams, had finally shown up. Within hours, Jezebel had been released, particularly since her “arrest” had been illegally made as the judge had failed to sign the actual warrant and the agents seemed to know it. They’d told her she couldn’t go back to her house because they were still combing it for evidence, to which Fiona had replied that they’d be out of her place soon enough since it was likely an illegal search and seizure. “Come down and eat something. It’s almost noon.”

  Was it? Jezebel thought with a slight shiver. She’d called in sick today so at least they’d cancelled all of her appointments.

  `“Jez, it’s not the end of the world,” Delilah continued. “Think of him as another Kirk, just…worse.”

  With a sigh, Jezebel buried her head under a pillow. Ramsey was no Kirk. She’d never thought she’d meet a man worse than Kirk, but she’d managed, and his name was Ramsey Stone. Where Kirk had hurt her feelings, Ramsey hurt and killed people. He’d taken care of her precious feelings, but there were people—human beings—whose lives had been destroyed because of Kang Jae Ramsey Stone.

  As she’d waited for her attorney, Raquel had left her a file on the Ssang Yong Pa, Double Dragon, gang to pursue at her leisure. She hadn’t wanted to look at it but after hours staring around the interrogation room, she’d grown curious and opened it. On the very first page had been a family tree hierarchy chart and Ramsey’s picture along with his full name and the title “Dragon” had been at the top. She’d recognized Bastian as well, whose picture was further down…and other male faces—some young, some old—she’d never seen. His ‘specific’ family, she thought with disgust. The next page had been filled with naked torsos and tattoos similar to Ramsey’s. Dragons were everywhere: upper arms, backs, necks, shoulders, all over, and they weren’t just on men. The females’ were smaller, prettier, but the design was always similar: two dragons curled around each other and facing off.

  She’d flipped through pages of tattoos and surveillance photos until she came across the girls, teenagers wearing skimpy outfits, make-up and zoned out expressions. Sex slaves. With a heavy heart, she’d flipped through the file faster…pausing briefly at the first page with the dead bodies. There were pictures, vivid pictures, of men, women, children, all massacred through different means. From there, she’d turned the pages automatically, her stomach sour, her heart beating but dead, until she reached the end.

  On the very last page was a picture of Jezebel, Ramsey and Lily. It had been taken just weeks ago when he’d taken them to the park. She was smiling up at him as he shaded his eyes to stare after Lily, who’d found a friend in an untrained but cute puppy, and was chasing him around the park. Ramsey was dressed in beige cargo pants, and a thin short sleeved pale green shirt, while she wore a spaghetti-strapped flower patterned dress and Lily wore a tank top and shorts. They looked like a family having a summer picnic.

  The sound of keys jingling pulled her from her memory. Removing the pillow, she looked in the direction of the door.

  Delilah stepped into her room, eyes on Jezebel. Before Jezebel could tell her to leave, she stepped out. Confused but grateful, Jezebel placed her head down again and closed her eyes. When next she opened it, her sister was setting a tray on her bed and staring pointedly between her and it.

  “Lilah,” Jezebel began in hoarse croak. She cleared her throat with effort. “I just need some time.”

  “We gave you time yesterday, remember?” Delilah reminded with an easy smile. “It’s Monday, Jez.”

  “I know.” She put her head down and closed her eyes. “I’m tired.”

  “No you’re not,” Delilah muttered. “You’re just…sad, which is understandable.” Her sister’s hand stroked her head. “Just eat this and I’ll leave you alone for another couple of hours.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she muttered, but the smell of bacons and eggs were now in her nose and her belly protested that statement with one loud groan.

  “Says your mouth as your stomach objects,” Delilah muttered humorously.

  With her belly agreeing with her sister, Jezebel sat up and reached for the plate Delilah had prepared. It looked like there was a bit of everything on it. Eggs, bacon, hash browns, grits, fruit…

  It took her ten minutes to clean her plate, and when she was finished, she finished the cup of green tea Delilah had made as well.

  “More?” Delilah asked softly, her first words since Jezebel had begun eating. Shaking her head, Jezebel placed the plate and cup onto the tray and sighed. “Thanks, Lilah.”

  “No problem.” Delilah looked around the room. “So, what are we doing today?” When Jezebel only stared at her, Delilah shrugged. “You’ve got the day off. I don’t have any projects. It’s nice and warm outside. We could go to the beach and relax.”

  She shook her head. “I just want to…lie down.”

  Before she could do just that, Delilah caught her arm. “No. You’ve been ‘lying down’ from the moment you got here yesterday. It’s time to get up, Jez.”

  “Lilah.”

  “I get it, Jez. You’re sad, you’re tired, and you’re depressed. I get it, but you did nothing wrong!” Her sister’s fierce glare made her look away. “You didn’t! You didn’t know he was some gangster until the FBI busted into your house and arrested you, so whatever guilt you’re feeling, let it go! He lied to you. He made you think he was just a harmless masseuse and that’s who you fell in love with: the masseuse.”

  Delilah pushed from the bed and opened the drawn curtains. Sunlight spilled into the room and Jezebel closed her eyes against the glare.

  “You’re strong, Jez, one of the strongest people I know. You raised two little girls to adulthood, and we turned out fine! You’re a smart, beautiful, successful woman, and you don’t need anyone but yourself. You survived Kirk—that asshole—and you’ll survive Ramsey—the even bigger asshole.” She approached slowly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “So, we’re going to the beach, just the two of us, like old times. Take a shower.”

  “I don’t have anything to wear.” Her clothes were in her house and her house was now one huge piece of federal evidence. She shook her head.

  “Of course you have clothes,” Delilah muttered. “We wear the same sizes in dresses, and I’ve got more than my sh
are of bikinis.”

  “I’m not wearing your bikini.” Jezebel glared at her. She wasn’t that out of it to remember why she wouldn’t.

  Delilah smirked. “Why not?”

  “Those things hardly cover you and you have no boobs.”

  “I resent that,” her sister muttered with a grin. “Just because some of us aren’t as well-endowed with boobage doesn’t mean we have none.”

  Jezebel shook her head. “I’m not wearing your bikini.”

  “I’ll give you a cover for it.

  “I’m not.”

  “Fine. I’ve got some one-pieces as well. Be a granny if you want.”

  Jezebel scoffed, but she swung her feet over the bed and allowed them to touch the carpet. Delilah smiled encouragingly at her and when she stood, her sister gave her a tight hug. “We’ll have fun, Jez. Promise.” She kissed her temple and left the room. Jezebel moved over to the window and looked down. It was summer and the children were outside, playing in the streets as family watched on. Some people had it worse than her. She’d only found out the man she loved was a murdering mobster. Life went on.

  Jezebel snorted and made her way to the bathroom.

  ***

  Ramsey smiled as he looked around the conference room in his apartment. The faces of family members stared back at him. No one spoke out of respect, but he could see the unease on some of their faces.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” he began.

  He was greeted in turn.

  “I’m sure by now you’ve heard about the unfortunate events that occurred on Saturday.”

  Everyone began to speak at once, mostly outraged by the actions of the FBI. Even Bastian was vocal in his anger. Vince was the only one who remained silent, his dark eyes surveying them.

  “Yes, I was as outraged as you.” Ramsey drummed his fingers against the polished oak desk. “I’ve learned that there is a leak in our foundation.”

  “A leak?” Pat said. Patrick Seong was his mother’s brother, and one of Ramsey’s staunch supporters. When Ramsey ascended after his grandfather’s death, he’d done so with Pat’s backing. It wasn’t that the man had any great love for him. Pat had a great love for good living and good living was acquired through immense wealth. So long as Ramsey kept his pockets lined, Pat would be in his corner. Based on that alone, Ramsey doubted Pat was the leak.

  “Yes, a leak. Some refer to leaks as rats, or pigs, but our foundation is currently weak because someone in this room…” He paused and looked at every face. “…has made it that way.”

  People stared at each other distrustfully.

  “Now,” Ramsey continued, allowing the smile to come back to his face. “I’ve always believed in the bonds of family, and forgiveness has always been key to those bonds.” He nodded. “So, if you or someone in your respective families is causing a leak in this great foundation, I will give you a 12-hour grace period to come forward, and be forgiven.” Some of the men shifted uncomfortably. “Once this period is over, I will find you, and fix this leak in whichever way is best to ensure that the foundation doesn’t suffer any such…problems in the future.” Standing, Ramsey smiled down at the eight seated men. “Thank you for coming on such short notice gentlemen.”

  “Before you leave,” someone called, halting Ramsey’s intentions to leave them to stew on that a bit. He turned in the direction of the voice to see another of his mother’s brothers, Titus, speaking. “Is it true you were with a geomdung-i?”

  Ramsey’s smile faded. After long seconds, the older man lowered his eyes respectfully and began to fidget. The others also began to squirm. After about a minute of silence and extreme discomfort, Ramsey spoke softly, but in a hard voice, “I’ll say this once, and I will not say it again. You—none of you—are ever to refer to her by that name again. She is not a geomdung-i.” His nose flared at the Korean word that was equivalent to a racial slur for a black person. “She is a woman, and what I do in my private life is none of your business unless I bring it into this room.”

  “Son,” Titus began in a placating manner, lifting a hand as if to make peace.

  “I am not your son!” Ramsey hissed, moving around the table in the direction of his uncle. When he was standing directly over the man, he added, “You’d do well to remember that, Titus.”

  “Of course, Ramsey.” Titus dipped his head in respect and Ramsey looked around the room. “Are there any other questions?”

  Bastian looked amused, Vince seemed bored, Pat looked confused, but the rest of the men around the table were looking at their hands, each other, anywhere but Ramsey, and were wisely holding their tongues on the issue.

  “Good.” Ramsey surveyed the room again. “Gentlemen.” He tossed a final glare at Titus before turning on his heel and walking out.

  ***

  Jezebel pulled herself together and went back to work on Wednesday. She still couldn’t access her own home but her lawyer had assured her that within the next week, they’d make headway into that. As such, Jezebel did what she did best: she threw herself into work. There was nothing she could do about her home or anything else out of her control, so she controlled what she could: her business.

  She’d finished a day of work and was about to leave when her phone rang. It was Marlo. “Ms. Carter, Mr. Stone is here to see you.”

  Jezebel froze. What? Hadn’t she told Marlo not to let him in? She sighed. No, no she hadn’t. When she’d walked into work today, she’d moved quickly, not wanting to really talk with anyone and she’d hardly seen anyone for the entire day. She’d just been reading proposals and going over projects. She’d even had lunch in her office.

  “Please tell Mr. Stone that unless he wants to be escorted out by security, he’ll leave now.”

  “Er…Ms. Carter, I—”

  “Thank you, Marlo.” She hung up. Jezebel couldn’t believe his nerve. Seriously? He showed up to her work? She was still fuming when Ramsey barged in, followed by an out-of-breath, wide-eyed Marlo, who was staring between the two of them in confusion.

  “Get out!” Jezebel roared.

  Marlo fled, and Jezebel figured she was going to get security. Good.

  Ramsey shook his head and sighed. “Just give me ten minutes, Jez, and I’ll explain.”

  She scoffed. “Explain what? That you’re a sex-trafficker, a murderer, the head of a Korean gang, an embezzler, and only God knows what else.”

  He stared at her for a few moments, before he sighed and turned around. She felt a pang in her heart as he walked to the door but steeled herself. Instead of leaving, Ramsey closed and locked the door before turning back to her.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  He advanced on her and she retreated in fear. Ramsey had always been tall, but never had his height been imposing.

  He froze and gave her a look that clearly said she should know better. “I’d never hurt you.”

  “But you hurt other people, right?” she hissed. “Tell me they’re lying.”

  “They’re lying.”

  She blinked. He hadn’t even hesitated. “I saw pictures!” When he only stared at her, she elaborated, “Pictures of young girls being forced to whore for your businesses, dead bodies strewn every which way because they’d crossed your gang.”

  Ramsey shook his head. “You saw what they wanted you to see. I am not a monster.” He sighed. “I’m the man who loves you.”

  “Oh come on!” Anger made her step around her desk to confront him. “You act like those two things are mutually exclusive! Like murdering gangsters don’t have wives and children they love.”

  “I’m not a gangster.”

  “Yes, you are!” She was getting frantic now. He was looking her directly in the eye and lying. Had he lied to her all this time? Did he even love her? How was she to know when the man lied so effortlessly? “You’re the Dragon!” Fury made her grip his arm where she knew the tattoo lay hidden under the summer suit. “Deny it, Ramsey! Lie to my face and tell me you’re not the Dragon.”
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br />   He didn’t pull away, and when he spoke, his voice was still the same even tone he’d used from the beginning, “I am not a gangster, Jezebel.”

  Jezebel noted he hadn’t corrected her on being the Dragon though. Stepping away from him, she nodded. “Of course you’re not a gangster, Ramsey. You’re a law abiding citizen.”

  “I am.” For every step she took away, he took a step forward.

  “—and the FBI is just running around on a goose chase.”

  “They are.”

  She shook her head. “Of course they are. Clearly, you’re living in Ramsey’s world where Ramsey gets to whore out little girls, and kill people, but there’s nothing wrong with that because in Ramsey’s world, Ramsey’s king.”

  Before she knew what was happening, he pinned her to the wall. His arm wrapped around her waist, tight enough to secure her there, but not tight enough to cause discomfort. He’d come into her office looking calm and a bit defeated, but the man who stared down at her right now was definitely…angry. A sliver of fear ran down her spine, but she faced him bravely. Was the real Ramsey about to make an appearance? Though she feared him, she wanted him to. Maybe this way, she’d be able to forget the character he’d created, the character she loved.

  “I’m not a perfect man,” Ramsey began in a low voice, leaning down until he was close enough to her ear to whisper. “I’m no saint, but I do not have blood on my hands—not the blood of innocent children or anyone else.”

  “I saw pictures,” she whispered, remembering the images. Would she ever forget them?

  “They’d show you anything to turn you against me.” He released an angry breath.

  “Ramsey.”’

  “I’m sorry they raided your house and treated you like they did,” he continued, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “That should have never happened. They have nothing on me. They’ve been trying to find something for years, but they have nothing. This is a goose chase…just like the last time.”

  “The last time?”

  “In 2007, they raided my old apartment and charged me with similar crimes. They ended up dropping all of the charges and I won my countersuit for harassment.”