Flawed
The Clans Book Twelve
Iris Sweetwater
Elizabeth Knox
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
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The Trade
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Love is War
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Flawed
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Flawed. Copyright © 2020 by Elizabeth Knox. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews. For information contact E. Knox & I. Sweetwater.
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Cover design: Clarise Tan, CT Cover Creations
Editing: Jackie Ziegler, Knox Publishing
Proofreading: Jackie Ziegler, Knox Publishing
Formatting: E.C. Land, Knox Publishing
Photographer: Reggie Deanching, RplusM Photography
Model: Dixie
Created with Vellum
Trigger Warning
This book is intended for mature audiences only. If darker books are not for you, please do not move forward. After re-adjusting my trigger warning system, I will not be giving any spoilers. Please understand that this is not your run of the mill romance and tough subjects will be spoken about in this storyline.
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
“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 her senior. But she’s gracious about the fact I know much more about my territory than she and Ion ever could.
Africa’s underworld is a tough one to crack.
“The face of the charity would be for the sake of pulling out children from child armies. Rescue missions that lead to education, food, clothing. Safety, or as much safety as we can give them. It will expand our reach and make us even more legitimate. Establish us in the world as more than some big criminal organization.” She nods for me to keep going. “It will also get us close to these warlords. Close enough to know their secrets and possibly execute them and take over, lend us even more power.”
“I like this idea. We need to get onto bigger and better things, and I can’t say I don’t sympathize with these children.”
“The only thing that gives me pause is talking to some of the young women. There are issues that not only am I not comfortable discussing, but I doubt they would be too keen hearing it from me. I’d like someone who can do that for me, if that’s possible,” I tell her, not pushing too hard as if it’s an order.
“Stay in town for a couple more days while I finalize all the filing of the paperwork. I’ll look for someone and get you in touch with her.”
We shake hands, the meeting over for now and my presence dismissed.
All that’s left to do is find me a partner in crime that can handle these sensitive parts, I only hope she can handle me keeping secrets or handle what those secrets are.
Chapter One
Melody
I put on a pair of capri yoga pants and a crop top, both things I wear more on my walks than I do for lounging at home. In fact, I’m just not the type no matter what people think when they look at me.
My curves are entirely genetic, natural, and have nothing to do with a sedentary lifestyle.
For almost two years now, my life has been a full and busy one, advocating for the silent voices of children who fell victim to private adoption agencies. The kind that make a lot of money and don’t make sure where kids are going is safe.
The non-profit I worked for, made it their mission to also get these kids better homes and prosecute families and companies that caused the abuse before rehabilitating them and getting them back out into the world in any way possible.
The noblest cause I could imagine.
But the story with this one was the same as the other two I worked for part-time for the three years before that, to make ends meet and move up in the ranks.
The economy has taken so many good causes victim, forcing them to close their doors.
And now, a week after my last day at Young Hearts Wanted Here, I find myself at home, very much needing to sublimate, but not knowing how to do it.
I’ll admit, I’m passionate, which makes me a bit of a workaholic. I get bored sitting still, and this is only my second attempt at binging Netflix for more than two shows in a row. The closest to junk food I down too much of is baked chips that are sitting on my couch, waiting for me and my blonde messy bun; the only thing I’ve done ‘right’.
I finally curl up on the couch and relax, something I have to talk myself through. Not only because I’m again, not that girl, but also because while I made plenty of money while at the non-profit to live comfortably. I don’t have the kind of savings to survive on with nothing. And I can’t help but be afraid there won’t be something else out there for me. That I’ll have to start from scratch in some other field, at least until the economy takes an eventual upturn.
I find a good show about unsolved mysteries and get lost in it, one of my guilty pleasures if I do have the time to watch TV. I’m only broken out of the trance when my phone makes a pinging sound, letting me know one of my social media accounts has a message. And since they’re all set up for business, in hopes of someone coming across my profiles and wanting to hire me, I look at it immediately.
It’s my LinkedIn, and I open the message excitedly, hoping it’s something legit. I can’t just sit here and let my savings dwindle, and just maybe, this next one will be the one that gives me enough to really save for my future and stay for longer than two or three years, for that matter.
But I won’t turn anything down. A job’s a job.
I’ve heard of the company a few times before, even researched it a little, though it isn’t in my exact wheelhouse and hasn’t been around long. Hopeful Futures. And the message is directly from them, referring to a job post that’s been made only this morning. I know, because I follow the given link and check.
I know it seems fishy, but I also know this is a high dollar charity. Probably run by one or more very wealthy benefactors. All the paperwork I saw looked official, and so I’m not about to turn my nose up because it isn’t what I’m used to.
Hello, Melody. My name is Mariana, and I have seen your profile and experience. Would you be interested in interviewing for this position?
Just as I’ve done my research, she’s already done hers, and I can’t say it doesn’t catch my notice that it’s a charity run by a woman. Those are even harder to come by, and I’m all for it.
I would love to set up an interview. Thank you for considering me.
This Mariana gets back to me immediately, and what she says piques my interest even more.
I know it’s short notice, but can you interview today? Via Skype would be fine.
Today? She wants an interview today? Either she really liked what she saw, or she’s desperate. I refrain from any childish celebration or getting my hopes up, but I can’t control the leap of my heart in my chest at the prospect.
Yes, I happen to be free today.
Perfect. How is 6pm?
Sounds good. My Skype ID is Melody.Advocate
Please, be logged in and ready five
minutes before our meeting time. I look forward to speaking with you.
You as well.
It’s several hours later when I end up in front of the computer, anxious for this interview.
My yoga pants and crop top put away, I opt for a pale, purple blouse that sets off my blue eyes and blonde hair well and always looks good on camera, or as good as anyone can look on a webcam. I’ve had to do many of these interviews and meetings this way. Some of the meetings with social services and the kids were even using this kind of tech rather than me seeing them in person for many reasons.
With one more check of my mic, webcam, and hair, I officially go online and wait for the call to come through from Hopeful Futures.
The call comes through a minute early, adding to the feeling of eagerness, and I answer right away.
The woman who appears on the screen must be Mariana, and she is blonde like me, thinner, but older. Though she has an exotic beauty about her I can’t place.
“Melody, it’s nice that you could make it. I know all of this has been very fast, but I am a busy woman and fly around the country a lot as do my associates, so getting everyone in one place and working on the same thing can be hard.”