Queen of His Heart

By Suzanna Lynn

When you play your cards always have a Queen in your hand.

Officer Samantha Daniels has been given a dangerous mission; go undercover to get close to criminal mastermind, Dominic Murphy. However, becoming one of the king pin’s family isn’t as simple as introducing yourself with a basket of muffins.

Samantha must keep it together as she dives into her dark side, all while undergoing a terrible ignition that could take her life. However, torture can turn anyone’s mind to mush, and she discovers a whole new side of herself as she slowly gives into Dominic and his murderous tendencies.

Add a dash of insanity and a touch of Stockholm Syndrome, and you have a romance made of inner demons and blood.

It’s a sexy blood covered romance gone wrong; or maybe right.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suzanna Lynn
• Release date: Dec 27, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463984574

Suzanna Lynn

Author Suzanna Lynn is a happily married, full-time mother of three beautiful, energetic children, and lives in a small town nestled in the deep rolling hills of Missouri.Growing up in the Ozarks, Suzanna spent her childhood wandering the fields and woods surrounding her home. While most children avoided the dark corners of the woods, she sought them out; imagining them to be filled with fairies, dragons and all number of creatures.Having not lost her childhood imagination, Suzanna has written numerous poems, songs and short stories that won various awards in high school and college. Her dream was to, one day, be an author.In 2014 she decided to stop wishing she could publish a book and made the dream a reality when she released The Bed Wife.That first novella gave birth to two more books, completing the series, and stirred the embers of a new five-book series called The Untold Stories. She has since published stand-alone novels, and even has several children’s books in the works.When she's not busy writing or spending time with her family, Suzanna loves to draw and paint, as well as scrapbooking. She also has been known to volunteer with her children's school, the Ladies Auxiliary, and even the local zoo!

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Copyright © 2018 by Suzanna Lynn

Queen of His Heart

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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TO THE UNPREDICTABLE.

TO THOSE WHO HAVE BROKEN PIECES BUT HAVE LEARNED TO EMBRACE THEM.

TO EVERYONE WHO HAS FELT THEY ARE JUST A BIT MAD, WAY IN THE BACK OF THEIR MIND.

THIS IS FOR YOU.

AND FOR ME.

THE HOT WATER WARMED MY skin, creating soft pillows of steam that rolled into the air. The bottom of the tub pooled pink as my blood washed away with the water. My blood, I thought. Not just mine. His blood. His. Ours. Our blood. That, and the blood of our victims. It was a lethal concoction that created an aphrodisiac between us.

I tore open the tiny package of complimentary soap the hotel provided. It smelled of honeysuckle and claimed to be moisturizing. I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel normal again. To wash away the acts of violence I had taken part in only hours before. I smiled as I thought of what we had accomplished. It was vile. The body count, outrageous. But I had reveled in it. In his smile; his pride as he watched me extinguish the lives of the men.

This isn’t me, I thought, battling this new version of me. Yes, it is, and you love it.

At one time I was known as Dr. Samantha Daniels. I was trained, not only as one of the best on the Bedworth Police Department, but I also had taken years of medical school, so I could pick apart the brains of the mentally insane and get to the root of the crime problem in Bedworth.

But that felt like a million years behind me. That part of my life was over.

I’d given up a life as Dr. Samantha Daniels and embraced my new persona: Haley Carver – thief – murderer – sociopath. I relished in it. And it was all so I could be at the side of my love – the notorious Dominic Murphy, aka Re Delle Carte, the King of Cards. He was the baddest of the bad, and I had become his queen.

~*~Three Months Earlier~*~

Dr. Daniels? the secretary said, opening the glossy mahogany door to a conference room. They’re ready for you.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and rose to my feet. When I had been called to a meeting with the most influential people in Bedworth, New York, I wasn’t sure whether to take it as a good sign or a bad omen.

I was only fifteen, living in a small town in New Jersey, when I got my first taste of crooked justice. I watched as my boyfriend, Jake, was gunned down during a drive-by shooting. Apparently, there was no real reason behind it. It was more of a gang initiation than anything. However, the system decided an emotionally traumatized girl was not a credible witness, and the thugs walked.

It was then that I devoted my life to cleaning out the system. While other girls my age were going to prom and making out at Lookout Point, I was working out and studying. I dedicated my life to getting a badge.

I became the youngest cadet on the books to join the Bedworth Police Department twelve years ago. I quickly worked my way up the ranks. Then, when I decided to get my Ph.D. in forensic psychiatry, I became a force to be reckoned with. At twenty-nine years of age, I was the only psychologist in Bedworth cleared to go into the field to psychoanalyze the criminals the boys in blue were trying to take down.

After years of trying, we were finally bringing in the crime bosses of Bedworth. Before I arrived, the mob bosses had all the heads of psychology on their payroll. Each case was the same. Instead of jail time, the perps were deemed insane and sent to White Wings Asylum. It took just a short time before they were cleared as capable – a miraculous recovery. With a little money or pressure on the judge, charges would be dropped, and the perps walked the streets in a matter of weeks.

Not on my watch. I was the worst thing to happen to the Bedworth criminals. The streets were clean, and the people and businesses of Bedworth flourished. It looked as though the dream of a safe city was a distinct possibility. Then came the Mazzo di Carte. Loosely translated in Italian it means Deck of Cards or Deck as the boys downtown called them.

I know what you’re thinking. What the heck kind of gang calls themselves Deck of Cards? Everyone downtown thought the same thing. We assumed it was a small gang of ruffians trying to take over the crime rings left open by the removal of the real mob bosses.

How wrong we were.

Dr. Daniels, said Mayor Nathan Blackburn as I took a seat at the long oval conference table. We’ve called you here today because we require your expertise on the growing number of incidences with the Deck.

I looked around the table. This can’t be good, I thought. Police Commissioner Ronald Ronnie Malcolm sat to the right of the mayor. Inspector Virgil Hale and Brent Olsen, the prosecuting attorney for Bedworth, joined them. Their faces were lined with worry and exhaustion. We had gotten used to peace on the streets. The new crime wave was taking its toll.

Anything I can do to help, I will, I said, addressing the room. I’m as eager as you are to get this new gang removed from our streets.

That’s the problem, Commissioner Malcolm said. We haven’t been able to make a dent in their ranks. There are too many of them. He looked worried. His salt-and-pepper hair seemed more silver now. His blue eyes had lost their luster.

Inspector Hale slid a manila folder down the table to me. This is all the intel we have been able to gather on them. Sadly, it’s not much.

I opened it and flipped through the papers, quickly scanning the information. There’s a constant number of forty-eight members?

One for every card in a deck, Olsen murmured, his brow furrowed, relaying the strain of his years on the job.

My head shot up. A deck? As in an actual deck of cards? I tried not to laugh at the absurdity of it. It felt like a bunch of teenage wannabes out to make a name for themselves.

That’s where they get their name, the commissioner explained.

But there are fifty-two cards in a standard deck, aren’t there? I asked, glancing back down at the papers.

That’s true, Mayor Blackburn agreed. But there can only be one king. His hazel eyes held skepticism.

My eyes fell on the paper to read what little information they had on the leader.

-------------------------------------------------

Name: Dominic Murphy

Alias: Re Delle Carte/King Deck

Height: 6’1" Weight: 200 lb Age: 34

Hair Color: Brown Eye Color: Blue

Notes:

Considers himself to be the head of Mazzo di Carte (The Deck) and takes the roles of the King of Spades, Hearts, Diamonds, and Clubs.

A relentless murderer, he surrounds himself with the forty-eight other members, making it impossible to get close to him.

-------------------------------------------------

Then you’ve tried, I asked, looking up. Tried to infiltrate his ranks, I mean.

Tried and failed. Malcolm sighed, rubbing his silver beard. Several times. We’ve lost some good men and women trying to get this intel. One officer is still missing. We’re not sure if he was killed or is so far behind the lines that we can’t reach him.

I flipped through the next few pages in the file and my stomach turned. Staring back up at me were the morgue photos of four corpses. Two men and two women. I noticed they each bore a small mark on their cheeks, near their left eye.

Pulling on a pair of reading glasses, I brought the pages closer for a better look. What is that on their faces? Are those tattoos?

Yes, Attorney Olsen answered. Every member of the gang gets them to mark their association.

Most members start out a Deuce, the inspector explained, leaning back in his chair with cool confidence. That is to say, the lowest rank. Once they have been accepted in, they are given a suit: Spades, Hearts, Diamonds, or Clubs.

Is there a relevance? I asked, removing the glasses. Do certain suits mean different things?

As best we can tell, the commissioner said, they represent a certain trade. A position within the group is marked by a number, but the trade is marked by the suit. We’ve discovered the Spades represent the mercenaries. They are usually at the head of any killing spree that takes place. The Diamonds are the thieves…

And damn, they’re good at it, Olsen interrupted, running a hand through his blond hair. Like cats in the night. We’ve yet to do more than get a glimpse of one of them on any surveillance.

The Clubs are the socialites, Malcolm continued. We’ve discovered several casinos and bars connected to the Deck and believe it’s these members who run both the establishments as well as the under-the-counter drug ring taking place behind the scenes.

And the Hearts? I asked.

Those are the ones that baffle us, the mayor offered. They seem to have a significance to Mr. Murphy, for sure. While the turnover rate for the other positions in the gang seems to be constantly changing – given that most murder their uppers to try to advance in the ranks – the hearts stay pretty constant.

As constant as you can in a gang of murderers, Attorney Olsen hissed, his gray eyes angry and disgusted.

I finished scanning the paperwork. Placing the folder on the table, I took a deep breath to gather my thoughts. Fifty-two cards in a deck, I thought. Well, forty-nine in this case; there is only one king. They have their king and his minions…

What about the others? I asked. The Aces, Jacks, and Queens?

As far as we can tell, those who occupy the Ace position are pretty damn important, Inspector Hale said. They appear to be his advisors. Their opinions matter to him.

The Jacks are his bodyguards, Olsen offered. He trusts them with his life; if a lunatic like that can trust anyone.

The Queens? I asked, scribbling the information on the outside of the folder as they spoke, trying not to miss anything crucial.

Pretty much what they sound like. Commissioner Malcolm sighed. They keep his bed warm and his insanity high.

Yeah, but don’t forget about the Queen of Hearts, the mayor said, raising a dark eyebrow at the commissioner.

What about her? I asked.

That’s just it, Blackburn continued. "There is no her. Never has been. The Regina di Cuori … his Queen of Hearts. It’s the one position that has a constant opening."

I furrowed my brow, studying their nervous expressions.

Finally, Malcolm spoke. It’s our belief this position is the only way to get to Mr. Murphy. We know the Hearts signify something very important, maybe even family to him. We think he hasn’t filled the slot because he doesn’t plan to. It would be a weakness.

Inspector Hale slid a folded piece of paper to me.

Unfolding it, I saw the King Deck with my own eyes. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, tall with lean muscle. His dark hair was disheveled but didn’t look much different from how the magazines defined sexy hair.

It wasn’t a great picture, obviously taken by one of the deceased undercovers with a smartphone. Mr. Murphy was looking to the side at someone, wearing a leather jacket with no shirt underneath. He appeared to have tattoos, but with the blurry photo, I couldn’t make them out.

So, this is him? I asked, cocking an eyebrow. I half expected something out of the comic books. You know, white makeup, green hair; a giant man in a bat suit standing over his shoulder.

This is no laughing matter, Daniels, Blackburn hissed, his hazel eyes boring into me.

I’m not laughing, I snapped. I’m merely stating it’s rather difficult for me to give a proper assessment about someone I have never met based on a few slips of paper and an out-of-focus photograph.

That’s why we’re sending you in, Blackburn said, leaning back in his chair.

My heart seized in my chest. I stared up at the group; my eyes grew wide and my jaw dropped. With all due respect, Mayor, this is a suicide mission. You can’t force me to go undercover.

No, we can’t, and we won’t, Malcolm said. It’s completely up to you, Daniels. But we’ve called you in because you’re pretty much our only hope.

We believe our mistake with the others was their inability to psychoanalyze him in order to keep him off their scent, Attorney Olsen explained. They would start to get close and he would figure it out. We need someone with your skills not only to get in, but to use that voodoo you do so well to get closer.

I sighed, not wanting to even consider what they were asking. Closer as in….

You need to try and get in as his Queen of Hearts, Blackburn said. We believe that is the only chance at getting close enough to bring him in.

And if I get killed in the process? I spat, disgusted with the mayor’s nonchalance about the situation.

Then we’ll be out of options, Malcolm murmured solemnly. If this doesn’t work, we’ll be wishing for men in capes and heroes that can fly.

LOUNGING IN THE DIM LIGHT of the private room, I sank lower into my lush couch. The rhythmic beating of bass music vibrated the windows and made my head ache. I sighed in relief as the air conditioning kicked on, allowing the breeze from the vent above me to cool my warm skin.

Looking down beside me, my girls laid sprawled over one another on the couch. They tended to indulge in drinks and drugs far too much for my taste. I preferred to keep a clear head.

There was a knock on the door.

What? I boomed, causing one of my girls to moan and cover her ears before falling back to sleep.

The door opened, and the room was suddenly filled with the loud throng of music coming from the other room. Standing in the doorway was Braden, my Jack of Diamonds.

Shut the fucking door! I snapped, pressing my fingers to my pounding temples.

He quickly obliged. Sorry, boss.

I waved away his apology. What is it?

The new recruit is here, Braden said, nodding his head toward the door. Should I let him in?

I sat up, putting my head in my hands and sighing. The endless parade of new recruits was beginning to become a bore. Half of them were useless peons who would get themselves killed within the first two weeks, if they passed the initiation at all. Then there were the undercovers.

Any chance this one will pan out? I mumbled, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Your guess is as good as mine, boss, Braden replied, shuffling his feet.

The crew were starting to become anxious with all the undercover cops infiltrating us. That, and the fact that my patience hung by a thread.

I rubbed my hands down my face, looking up at him. Your guess? I snapped, jumping to my feet. You’re telling me that you’ve been just passing them with flying colors without at least trying to feel them out?

Nah, boss. I mean, I always… it’s just, Braden rambled, trying not to make eye contact. "I just mean the undercovers are getting pretty damn good.