The Debt: An Irish Mafia Romance (Downing Family Book 2)

  The Debt

  The Downing Family Book 2

  Cassie Wild

  Belmonte Publishing, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Contents

  Reading Order

  Free Prequel

  1. Daria

  2. Brooks

  3. Daria

  4. Brooks

  5. Daria

  6. Brooks

  7. Daria

  8. Brooks

  9. Daria

  10. Brooks

  11. Daria

  12. Daria

  13. Brooks

  14. Daria

  15. Brooks

  16. Daria

  17. Brooks

  18. Daria

  19. Brooks

  20. Daria

  21. Brooks

  22. Daria

  23. Daria

  24. Brooks

  25. Daria

  26. Daria

  27. Brooks

  28. Daria

  Preview Deceit and Desire

  About the Author

  Reading Order

  Thank you so much for reading The Debt, the second book in the Downing Family series. Don’t miss the other books in the series.

  1. The Escape

  2. The Debt (This book)

  3. The Punishment (September 21)

  Free Prequel

  Get an exclusive prequel to The Escape! Click Here to subscribe to my newsletter and get the exclusive 50 pages prequel – NOT available anywhere else.

  Chapter One

  Daria

  Daria, you need to get the hell out of wherever you are. I just overheard my dad and Sean talking. Dad knows where you are and he’s sending people to get you. I don’t know what to think about all of this, but I’m afraid you’re in danger. RUN.

  Run.

  My mind was spinning.

  Run, she’d told me.

  I texted back, asking how her father knew where I was. My phone buzzed in my hand:

  He traced our phone call. Now you need to get out of there. Be careful! He was talking to somebody on the phone. I went downstairs because I couldn’t sleep and he was in his office, talking about how you were on some island somewhere and he wanted you brought back here. GET OUT of there, Daria. Trust nobody!

  Adrenaline crashed through me as I sat on the bed, cringing like I might just disappear inside the mattress beneath me.

  If I could, I probably would have done just that.

  Get out? How was I supposed to get away from there? I was on an island for heaven’s sake. It wasn’t like I could just call a taxi. And it wasn’t like I didn’t have people watching me here.

  True, Duncan had said the security was for my benefit, and I believed it was. But I didn’t want Brooks’ people involved any more than they already had been if Basilio was really that dangerous.

  Plus, the one person I trusted most in the world told me to trust nobody.

  I had to get off the island. And I had to do it in a way that wouldn’t have Duncan looking for me or contacting Brooks. I wouldn’t risk Brooks getting hurt all because he helped me.

  Trust nobody.

  The turmoil had me biting my lip and pulling at my hair. I slid from the bed, desperate to come up with a plan.

  Maybe I could make Duncan think Brooks had wanted me to leave. After all, he hadn’t been at the beach with us, and most of the time Brooks had been on the island, he’d been with me.

  Maybe it was a long shot, but I needed to try.

  I dug around the room and managed to find the clothes I’d been wearing when I was flown so unexpectedly here. They’d been washed and pressed, so I didn’t think I’d catch as much attention wearing them this time around.

  The bruises on my arms from that horrible man at the strip club hadn’t faded, and I worried they might attract attention, but I had to shove that concern away and focus on the task at hand.

  I tidied the room until it looked like nobody had even been in there, then went to get the pad of paper I’d seen on the nightstand next to my bed.

  I couldn’t find a pen and opened the top drawer, ignoring the bottle of lubricant I saw, trying not to think about when Brooks had used it on me.

  This drawer wasn’t neatly organized. It was filled with some odds and ends…and a gun. My mouth went dry when I saw it, and I cautiously eased it aside in my search for a pen.

  A small silver case caught my eye, and I picked it up, flipping it open. It held exactly what I’d hoped it would hold—business cards.

  Business cards belonging to Brooks, complete with a phone number.

  I shoved one into my hip pocket, mumbling the number to myself. I didn’t know if I’d reach out to him or not, yet I couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to contact him, even if all I did was assure him I was okay. Just convincing myself that I needed to leave was proving to be harder than I’d expected.

  I scrawled a quick note to Duncan and hoped he wouldn’t see through my lies right away.

  Hi, Duncan,

  I wanted to thank you for everything. Brooks is sending the boat back for me. I’ve got a flight later today to return to the US since he’s taken care of everything.

  I wanted to tell you goodbye in person, but I couldn’t find you.

  Again, thank you.

  I signed my name, read the note again and knew I’d just have to hope for the best. Leaving the note on the middle of the bed, I slid out through the balcony door.

  I lingered there several minutes as I listened for footsteps. When I didn’t hear any sound coming from below me, I started down the spiral staircase. I moved slowly until I could see the doors that opened into the library. When I didn’t see Duncan or any of the bodyguards, I started to move faster, all but running as I headed for the beach.

  Run, Isabel had told me.

  That was what I’d do, although I had no idea if I was going to actually make it off the island without being seen.

  I thought of the business card I had tucked into my pocket. There was a phone number on it. I could call Brooks, let him know what Isabel had said, tell him what I was doing.

  But he’d stop me.

  It wasn’t his job to save me, though, and the fear I’d developed over Basilio and the rest of the Castellanos family—save for Isabel—kept me from pulling my phone out and calling Brooks in a panic.

  I made it to the dock and stood there for a few minutes, staring at the fishing boat Brooks had used just the other day to take me out on the water.

  This was my chance—probably my only chance—to get off the island and away from there before Basilio showed up.

  I shivered, chilled despite the warmth of the new day.

  Run.

  The word seemed to echo inside my skull, growing louder and louder with each refrain.

  Get away.

  If I didn’t run, Basilio would come for me, and I had no idea what he planned to do once he got his hands on me.

  I couldn’t risk it.

  Without really thinking it through, I took the phone in my pocket and dropped it onto the wooden planks of the dock. Then, taking a deep breath, I approached the little boat and climbed aboard.

  The boating lessons Brooks had given me played over and over in my head as I checked everything he’d told
me to check. The fuel tank was full. Somebody must have refilled it after we took the boat out because it had been hovering just above a quarter tank when we got back to the island. The key was in the ignition and the engine turned over on the first try.

  My hands shook as I gripped the wheel, guiding the boat backward out of the slip. I banged against the dock a couple of times but managed to get it out without much trouble.

  This is stupid, a calm voice in my head said. Go back to the house. Tell Duncan. This is why they have security.

  But the panic crowding inside me was louder than logic, and I mentally braced myself as I guided the boat away from the small marina.

  I wasn’t going to run to Brooks.

  I was going to do exactly what Isabel had suggested. I was going to run.

  And I was going to trust nobody.

  Before long, I was out in open water, and I squinted at the sun, trying to get my bearings. It was coming up on noon now, but the sun was still climbing to its zenith, so I guided the boat around until I had the sun at my right. I should be heading north now, and after twenty or so minutes, the landmass I’d glimpsed from shore became more visible.

  Cuba was north of that island.

  I’d head there.

  I had no idea what I was going to do once I got there, but I’d figure something out when the time came.

  You don’t have your passport. You don’t have your green card. How are you going to deal with getting back into the US when you have no documents?

  It was definitely something I needed to think about, and I’d have to figure out a solution, but I’d do that once I was safely away from the island. And hopefully, Basilio.

  The small, annoying voice of reason kept telling me to turn around, to go back to the house and find Duncan, share the message from Isabel with him.

  But I wasn’t going to do that.

  I’d already caused so much trouble, and I didn’t want to drag Brooks and his family, his people, into this mess any more than I already had.

  I didn’t realize I was crying until I found myself brushing at the tears that had leaked free.

  I wasn’t surprised, though. I was scared and alone and dealing with shit that belonged inside a book. Things like this didn’t happen in real life, did they? Normal girls like me didn’t get caught up in messes like this.

  But this wasn’t a book and it wasn’t a nightmare, either.

  It was reality, and I had to find a way to deal with it.

  Chapter Two

  Brooks

  The way Daria had looked at me as I boarded the boat was still lingering with me, hours later.

  I don’t want you to go, she’d said, almost pleading.

  Those words were lingering too.

  I hadn’t wanted to leave her, but I had no choice. I needed to continue on as normal even as I tried to smooth things over between Daria and the Castellanos. That was easier said than done, because every time I thought of them, I wanted to wreak havoc.

  I thought of the marks I’d seen on Daria’s body, thought of the fear I kept glimpsing in her eyes, and how she’d talked listlessly about the life she might have to leave behind.

  I didn’t want to just smooth things over with the Castellanos.

  I wanted them to regret every action they’d taken that had led to this. I wanted to find the manager who’d coaxed Daria into dancing for Leon Delgado.

  I wanted to find Delgado and punch him. No. Not punch him. Break him. I wanted to break him for the marks he’d put on her, for the fear he’d caused her, for daring to think he might be able to do whatever it was he wanted with the gorgeous woman I was so obsessed with.

  I wanted to have it out with my father, let him know that no matter what agreement our families had reached, I wasn’t about to let harm come to Daria.

  I couldn’t do any of that, though, and the knowledge just served to frustrate me more.

  By the time the small aircraft landed back in Miami, my mood was downright lethal.

  Sean was there, waiting to pick me up.

  I had to clench my fist to keep from wringing his neck when he fired off, “Man, that bitch has caused some trouble, Brooks. What in the hell are you doing getting involved in it?”

  I narrowed my eyes and just stared at him.

  He shook his head at me. “I don’t get it. You were the one who said we needed to just stick to business as usual. Since when is it business as usual to get involved in somebody else’s problems?”

  “The problems started because some fucker at the strip joint thought he could pay out a few grand and do whatever he wanted with Daria.”

  “What did she think was going to happen if she went into a booth with one of those fucks?” Sean barked out a laugh. “She couldn’t have seriously thought she was just going in there just to dance.”

  “She did.” I took a step closer to my brother. “How would you feel if some disgusting fuck tried to pull that shit with Briar? With Isabel?”

  “They’d know better than to accept the offer,” Sean fired back.

  “Are you sure?” I squinted at him. “Briar would know better, yes. But if Isabel was tight on funds and somebody asked her for a private dance, are you positive she would question whether or not she might be expected to do a lot more than dance?”

  Sean opened his mouth, only to snap it shut a few seconds later. He couldn’t answer me without either lying or admitting it was a possibility.

  “She was tricked into going in there, Sean. When she tried to defend herself, Delgado got what was coming to him. I’m not letting her pay because the Castellanos have no problem whoring women out the way they tried to whore Daria out.”

  Sean clearly wanted to argue, but in the end, he just jerked his head toward the trunk. “Put your shit in there. We’ve got things to do today.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was sit in an upscale bar that clearly catered to the beautiful and the wealthy. Marcos and Sean were with me, talking about the expansion of our families’ respective businesses.

  Declan had told me he’d hold down the fort in Philadelphia and be on hand when the Castellanos were ready to reach out about building their presence there.

  I didn’t envy him the task.

  The Castellanos were greedy and not just for money. The bastards were greedy for power, greedy for prestige, greedy for just about everything. Despite the deal my father and Basilio had supposedly reached with the wedding that united our families, the brothers—especially Marcos—seemed uninterested in honoring that bargain.

  It was enough to piss me off, but Sean handled it with remarkable aplomb.

  As he coaxed Marcos into giving us the information we needed to get the ball rolling in Miami, I fought to keep my attention on the matter at hand.

  It was harder than it should have been.

  My thoughts kept straying to Daria.

  It was getting late, coming up on eleven, and I wondered if she was in bed already, sleeping.

  I wanted to be there with her.

  “What do you think, Brooks?”

  I glanced up at the mention of my name and found Sean and Marcos eying me. I had no idea what they’d been talking about.

  “It’s your call,” I told my younger brother. “I’m just here for…moral support.”

  Sean’s eyes tightened a little, but he shrugged and looked back at Marcos. “We’ll need some time to talk things through and check with our father,” he said.

  And probably catch me up on whatever it was they’d been discussing. I had no doubt that Sean was aware of my distraction. He was too smart, though, to bring it up in front of Marcos. My little brother might not always have the best business sense, but he was great at reading people. We didn’t want Marcos to think either of us had our attention splintered.

  And we couldn’t afford to be distracted either.

  With a herculean effort, I dragged my attention back to the business discussion…and away from Daria.

  “I was thinking we could go to
one of our clubs,” Marcos said as we left the bar. “There’s a nice one not far away. Beautiful women. The most beautiful you’ll see in Miami.”

  Sean shrugged and glanced at me.

  “No.” I gave a polite shake of my head. “Not for me. I’m tired from the flight. It’s been a long day.”

  “Come on, Brooks.” Marcos gave me a broad smile that revealed big, almost fake-looking teeth that gleamed white against his olive skin. “We’ve talked enough business. Now, we need to relax and have a good time.”

  “I’m not awake enough to kick back and have a good time,” I told him.

  It had nothing to do with my level of exhaustion. I was tired, but I wasn’t so worn out I couldn’t hang out at a club for an hour or two. My thoughts, though, were focused on Daria. I wanted to be someplace where I could indulge memories of our time together, instead of monitoring myself and trying to finesse things between my family and the Castellanos.

  Sean looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Just came over and gave me a one-armed hug.

  I clapped him on the back, firm but friendly, leaving no room for equivocation. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Breakfast?” Sean asked.

  I nodded. “Just send me the details and let me know when and where.”

  I hoped he realized that the where should be someplace other than the Castellanos’ estate. I’d had enough of them already.