Chapter One

The Devil’s Lounge

Episode One - Sapphire Astor

September 14, 2010

Sapphire inspected every brick and decorative window panel before she nodded her approval. After the city inspections, she conducted her own to ensure everything met her standards. Her fingers grazed the brick. A year ago, bullets scarred the same wall.

Her heels clicked against the concrete. She loved the early mornings before Chicago roared to life. A brisk wind whirled around the corner as she reached the front with the smell of autumn close behind.

She oversaw every renovation plan, yet never set foot on the property until now. She stayed away for a year. A year to gather her bearings. Her emotions. She left everything to Levi and Jacob, but the memory of this place still shook her.

“Phire!”

She turned and froze. In a moment, she saw her father before he faded and Richard appeared at her side. He stood tall, his clean haircut and Chicago Bears hoodie hard to miss in the city's gray background. She tucked her hands into her own coat and smiled.

“He said you’d be here early in the morning.”

She nodded. “My husbands know me well.”

“Thomas, actually.”

Her brows raised. “Grandpa? He’s back in town already?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think the old man left, to be frank. He was talking with Garcia last Wednesday about the cleaning routes.” He rolled his eyes. “But not important. Tom gave me clear orders,” he mocked a Brooklyn accent on the word. “And orders are import-ant-e.” He butchered.

“Importante,” she corrected. “You have to enunciate, Richard. Otherwise, who is Aunt E, and why must we import her?”

He shrugged as his brown eyes scanned everywhere else but her. “She could be a terrorist.”

She sighed and slipped a hand from her coat pocket to rest on her belly. “When this one is born, I will need you to stay away for five years. Maybe ten. He can’t learn from you like Luna.”

His hand shot to his heart as he gasped. “I am hurt.” She smiled. “And you laugh!”

“What are the orders, Richard?” She shifted the topic.

He shook his head then went to unlock the front door of the club. “Inside first.” He opened the door for her. She patted his arm as he checked their surroundings before he followed her inside. The moment he locked the door, he started rambling about nothing.

“Richard, what did my grandpa want?” She tried to pull him back.

She met his brown eyes and groaned. The wheels turned, but ‌the hamster was gone. “How does Garcia handle you?” She shifted her weight to her left leg.

He kissed his teeth. “That’s messed up. I told you about the burrito lady last week, but no. No one wants to fucking believe me that she skimps on the meat.” He waved a pointed finger at nothing as he started to pace.

“My grandpa, Richard!”

“He’s on the way, what about it?”

“We could have talked about this outside!” She didn’t raise her voice, but it strained her throat. She rubbed her belly and finally turned around to study the Devil’s den. Her nose stung with emotions, but she refused to shed a tear. “They removed the smoke smell.”

His footsteps stopped beside her. Dust, chemicals, and Richard’s cologne lingered in the air. She’d applaud their attempt at erasing the memory, but never the images. Only the smell.

Her manicured nail scratched the side of her chin before she stepped further into the club. The entrance hall had beautiful paintings picked by Levi, and plants to match by Jacob. They turned her nightmare into beauty, but every step became heavier.

“It took weeks for the smell to get out,” Richard added. “Your cousin, Vincent, did a great job on the masonry. Madelyn really wasn’t joking. The guy’s the best in the city.”

She only nodded.

“Phire…”

“I’m alright, Richard.”

“You don’t need to do all that tough shit with me. I’m not Owen, and I’m not your husbands. I’m your best friend.” He moved to stand in front of her. “And we practically grew up together, so I know you got some fancy ass plan in that little tiny purse that holds nothing. Come on, let’s hear it.”

She glanced at her Louis Vuitton purse, then rolled her eyes. “I have a plan.”

“Spill it.” He crossed his arms, then checked his watch. “You got three hours before Thomas shows up and I gotta bounce for work.”

“You’re working at Garcia’s today?”

“Yeah, but only for one cleanup job. So, what’s the plan?”

Sapphire inhaled deeply, then proceeded farther into the den. “I have been in contact with the families, and since my father’s death…”

“The same families who killed him? Phire, are you serious? Does Thomas know? Levi? Fuck, Jacob?” He rushed after her, but she dodged his hand as she turned away.

She rubbed her belly the moment she felt her baby move around. “No one knew, because they would react just like you are right now.” She faced him. “Richard, Chicago is home to all of us. We need peace in order to survive.”

“They killed your father.”

“And we murdered many of theirs.”

“Phire?” The moment she saw the hurt and concern in his eyes, she turned away to hide her own tears.

Silence filled the gap between them. She studied the main lounge and bar. She sniffed back her tears and straightened her posture. “I was supposed to take over. My dad filled every seat with the families, and I was to be announced the Astor heir.”

Her hand found a nearby chair. They were metal, and not the familiar hand-carved wood her grandfather made for the lounge. She took in every new detail until her gaze landed on the stage. “Johnny LaMantia was found dead, and they blamed us. It’s taken a year to calm the families, Richard.” She licked her lips, then finally turned around to face him. “I didn’t want the throne back then, but now I don’t have a choice. Grandpa can’t take it, and you know why.”

“We didn’t murder Johnny.”

“Once someone in a family dies, everyone is a suspect.”

“So, we just let them off scot-free? Bullshit.” He waved his hand then groaned as he rubbed his face. “I don’t like this.”

“It can mean peace.”

“And their peace means what? A cost of a father? What happens then, huh? You’re not thinking, and that’s okay. You’re grieving.”

“Don’t do that.” She warned as she shifted her weight. The longer she stood, the more uncomfortable she became. “I am not crazy.”

“I didn’t call you crazy. I said you’re grieving, and that’s worse.”

She stared, then crossed her arms and walked through the sitting area. “You’re right.” She waited for the smoke smell, but it never came. “I’m not going to pretend that I’m not. That’s not the point I’m making.”

“Then what is?” He sounded closer, but she kept her back to him.

“What if I can stop more grief?”

Richard pulled out a chair and found her arm. She finally gave him her attention. He led her to sit down, and took the seat beside her. His hands never left hers. She clung to her composure until he lifted her chin. “I don’t trust them. They ruined your life, and your birthday. Today will never be the same.” She witnessed a single tear leave his eyes and felt her own fall. “I’m sorry they took your freedom.”

“I sometimes feel like I lost more that day.” She sniffled and wiped her tears. “Please, Richard?” She met his eyes. “Let me do this?”

“And what if something happens?” He held her hands. “Levi and Jacob will kill me.”

“We have the safe rooms. Cameras. It’s safer now.”

He sighed. “Okay.” She patted his hand. “And are you telling your husbands or grandpa?”

“Not yet. They show up tonight for the grand opening.”