MERMAID OF PARIS: Billionaire Siren, #4

By Jincey Lumpkin

The latest action-packed installment in the Mermaid of Venice series is Mermaid of Paris. Gia Acquaviva, the world's most famous mermaid, reconnects with a mysterious man from her past. Will he punish Gia and get the revenge he deserves––or will they fall in love all over again?

Meanwhile, Gia attempts to rebuild her broken business empire just as the Mermaid world descends into a bitter and dangerous civil war. Gia has already picked her allies, but will she make good on her promises––or will she cut sail when the winds shift?

Fans of Killing Eve and Fifty Shades of Grey will love the Mermaid of Venice series. These page-turning thrillers have lush fantasy elements and showcase the billionaire lifestyle that you secretly covet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jincey Lumpkin
• Release date: Apr 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781736471265

Book preview

MERMAID OF PARIS

1

December 20th

The moon wasn’t quite full, but it was intensely bright. A cloudy ring encircled the moon—a witch’s ring, some call it—and this gave Gia the sense that the moon was simply the iris in an enormous eye that stared down at her, judging her.

Gia surveyed the landscape. She had never seen so much seaweed in her life. The contents of the deep ocean covered the shoreline of Dakar.

She dodged shards of broken glass as she walked along the edge of the water. Those pieces of glass were all that remained of the Coral Tower. When the waves splashed ashore, they delivered an ever-increasing number of dead bodies. Hundreds of lifeless mermaids piled up. The current of the water tickled their tails, almost fooling Gia into believing that the creatures might spring to life and swim away at any second.

Locals rushed around the area, searching for survivors.

There were few.

Serena howled, thrashing around in a baby bjorn strapped to Gia’s chest. After hours of shrieking, Gia couldn’t understand why her child was still awake. Was the baby reacting to the heaviness and anxiety that radiated from Gia?

She stroked her daughter’s hair, hoping that Serena would fall asleep soon.

Bodies were loaded onto stretchers and surfboards and carried away. Gia eyed every face until she spotted one she knew: Moussa.

Stop! Please! she screamed to the two young men holding Moussa’s body. I know him.

The men placed the longboard onto the sand, and Gia knelt down, peering over his face, willing him to be alive.

Moussa? she shook his arm, hoping to rouse him. He didn’t move. Gia felt her heart sink inside her chest.

What will I do now? I cannot go home to Venice. I cannot go back to New York.

She took his lifeless hand in hers and brought it close to her chest. She thought back to the first time she saw Moussa. He had a wide smile and a shining presence that sparkled with energy and exuberance, and now he was gone.

Suddenly, Serena stopped crying for the first time in hours. The baby focused her gaze on Moussa, turning her head curiously.

That was my friend, Prince Moussa, Gia explained in Italian, her voice cracking with emotion.

Serena reached her tiny little hand out and wrapped it around Moussa’s thumb.

Gia observed a strange expression on her baby’s face. Serena appeared to be in deep concentration.

And then, a kind of electric shock flashed from Serena. The flash looked like a golden ring, a halo that vibrated out of the baby’s head and lassoed around her slight form, whipping out in thin jagged strings that fell onto Moussa’s body.

Gia felt a tingle from her head to her toes. The intensity of the jolt made Gia’s eyes water, and she blinked a few times to clear her vision. Once she could see, she inspected Serena to see if she was all right. The baby was better than all right. She was practically glowing.

Gia was so focused on Serena and ensuring the baby’s well-being that she didn’t notice Moussa’s hand.

It twitched.

By the time Gia glanced down at her fallen friend, his eyes were wide open.

2

December 20th

Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas Is You blared through the waiting room in Westchester County Jail.

Harper groaned to herself.

I fucking hate Christmas.

Her mind flashed back to the previous year, to the memory of Cameron’s body being zipped into a black bag and hauled through the canals of Venice on the back of a police boat.

She shuddered at the memory. Not that her current situation was much better.

Visiting Mommy and Daddy Langley in the clink wasn’t something Harper ever imagined she would be doing, and yet, here she was.

Ma’am, a woman waved at Harper, come on over here to this room. We’ll bring your parents in. She showed Harper into a private room.

Royce shuffled in first. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Bronwyn followed behind.

Hi, Dad, Harper said to him.

He waited at the door until the guard unhooked Bronwyn’s handcuffs.

He leaned in toward Bronwyn and whispered, I’ll speak to the lawyers about the cuffs. It’s ridiculous. We’re not drug lords, for God’s sake.

Goodness, Bronwyn remarked, turning her attention to Harper, why Royce, I think that’s our daughter.

Who? Royce replied, playing along.

That ungrateful blonde shrew sitting on the other side of the table.

Royce shrugged. I hardly recognize her. Surely any daughter of mine would have come to the aid of her old pop earlier.

It’s Monday, Harper deadpanned. They arrested you last Friday. Are you telling me that the stone-cold Langleys can’t even last a weekend in the slammer?

Listen here, missy! Royce’s face became red hot. "We’ve been rotting in this hellhole trying to coordinate our release with the lawyers all by ourselves. It would be really nice to have our daughter help run point for us. But nooooo. Not our daughter… not— he paused to make air quotes, Harper Langley. He shot Harper a very nasty look. No, she’s too busy backstabbing us with the OTN board and planning a corporate takeover."

Dad, Harper sighed, the board called me. Marlee rang me up on my cell.

Oh, how nice for you, Bronwyn hissed.

Sorry, Mother, is that supposed to be some sort of put-down?

Royce struck his hand down on the metal table. Enough, Harper! Don’t antagonize your sweet mother. We’ve been through enough.

The same female guard peered around the edge of the doorframe and whispered, Mr. Langley, please keep it down.

April, he smiled, I’m so sorry. My temper’s getting the best of me again!

It’s all right, she replied.

How about I send your kids pizza again tonight?

The woman held her finger over her lips, Shhh… Then she nodded her head, in agreement.

Royce turned around to face Harper. April’s children are just wild about pepperoni.

Harper dropped her voice. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal, Dad. You can’t bribe the guards.

Hush up, Harper, he snapped. You don’t know a good-goddamn-thing about how the world works.

Bronwyn leaned in, switching gears and changing the topic. Tell me, how’s the baby? How’s my Serena?

Harper grimaced and swallowed hard.

Bronwyn’s face went pale in response. What’s wrong? What happened?

Harper felt herself unable to meet her mother’s eyes as she delivered the news. Someone took Serena. They broke into my apartment when I was meeting with the board last night—

Kidnapped?! Bronwyn screeched. Someone abducted my grandbaby? Oh, dear God. Who?

I don’t know, Mom. Masked men came and took her away. They tased the front doormen and the babysitter.

Masked men! Bronwyn’s eyes watered. Does Gia know?

Harper shook her head. I don’t know. She’s not answering my calls.

Royce interrupted the women, "Did you try calling La Nonna?"

Yes, Harper nodded. I can’t get through to her either.

Then that’s the answer, Bronwyn croaked. She tried to hold back the flow of tears building up in her chest.

Bronwyn reached out and took Royce’s hand in hers.

Gia’s got Serena, Royce. We need to get our baby back.

3

December 21st

Moussa sat on the edge of a flatbed truck taking small sips of water from a paper cup. Gia searched his face for some kind of emotion, but it was blank.

Stop staring at me, he said, through gritted teeth.

Those were the first words he had uttered since being tugged back into this world from the next.

Gia needed details. Moussa, what happened? Was there a storm? An earthquake?

Everything happened so fast, he replied. I was alone in my suite, and then… he choked up, shook his head as if trying to dispel a nightmare, and couldn’t manage to talk about the disaster anymore.

First responders were still collecting bodies and herding the living mermaids to holding areas, such as the belly of the truck where Moussa was resting. He took in the scene, scanning the crowd for his people.

"Have you seen Maman?" he begged a passing couple.

They hung their heads low, unable to meet his eyes. No, Your Royal Highness. There has been no sign of her.

"Merci, he replied. He then stood, patting the wood of the truck bed, Please, take my place. Get some rest."

At that moment, a news truck arrived. A crew from an affiliate network burst out—camera, lights, and mic were up and ready to go in less than two minutes. Gia slinked behind the truck, aiming to make herself invisible.

Moussa took her cue and slipped behind the truck as well.

I need to move my people, Gia. We cannot stay out in the open like this. We need medical care… housing, food…

I agree, she said, glancing down at Serena to make sure the baby was fast asleep. I cannot risk being seen either. My jet is parked at a hangar near the airport. I could fly you and a small group somewhere.

No, we need more space… a boat maybe.

Of course… we could charter one.

Moussa frowned, thinking of the next steps. We should call Bisset and see if he has one of his cargo ships nearby.

Bisset? Gia inquired, trying her best to mask her trepidation by battling the impulse to raise the tone of her voice by an octave.

Her heart began beating faster.

Yes, Florent Bisset. Bisset Industries. He helped us get you out of Sicily.

I know who Florent is, she replied, her tone dull.

Images of the past flashed through her mind.

That’s rather unsurprising, Moussa shrugged nonchalantly. I imagine all of you billionaires know one another. Give me your phone. He stuck out his hand.

Gia reached into the pocket of the baby bjorn and pulled out her mobile. Unfortunately, the movement awoke Serena, who began crying.

Moussa recoiled, sneering in the baby’s direction.

Take that child away from me, please.

He could not hide his repulsion as he inspected Serena with a sideways glance, his eyes narrowed to the point of a blade.

"Démone, he muttered under his breath. Devil child."

4

December 22nd

Queen Zale welcomed Queen Karen and the Californian princes into her palace’s private sitting room.

One of Queen Zale’s attendants dipped into the room to ask if anything was needed.

Please, Zale asked in Atargatis, bring a chilled bottle of ouzo and some olives.

The worker retrieved the ouzo forthwith, and Yiannis, who had just entered the room, poured five small shots for the group.

Zale lifted her glass. O Gracious Tides, we are but servants of your righteous will.

Queen Karen nodded and added her own blessing. May we forever rise with your waves and float in the stillness of your care, O Gracious Tides.

The group clinked glasses and Queen Zale breathed a relaxed and satisfied sigh.

If I may, Yiannis began, I would like to enquire as to what the plan shall be going forward?

You are ever the good general, aren’t you? Queen Karen remarked, smirking. Before plotting the next move, I think we deserve to celebrate our victory. She raised her empty shot glass and beckoned for another.

Your Majesty, Yiannis lowered his head, I meant no offense. I merely wish to express my concern, because surely the Senegalese will offer some sort of counter strike to the attack for what has happened in Dakar.

I highly doubt that, Karen replied. From what I could tell, we wiped them out. I would not be surprised if there are only fifty or so of those traitors left. I think we’ve seen the last of Queen Awa and her lot.

For his part, Prince Kyle felt despondent. In the last few weeks, he had become increasingly more anxious. The destruction of the Senegalese colony made him sick. He swallowed a sip of bitter ouzo with tight, down-turned lips. After a few moments, he excused himself and stood in the hallway, trying to breathe deeply and dissipate some of the collected stress in his chest.

Shortly thereafter, Prince Bryce left the sitting room to seek his brother, whom he found squeezed into a corner in the hallway near their suite.

What’s going on, man? Bryce asked, reaching out to squeeze his brother’s shoulders. You’re looking a little green.

Kyle shook his head back and forth over and over. I can’t stop thinking about Moussa.

I know. He’s on my mind, too. We did what we could, bro. Remember that we tried. This was coming, and we warned him about it. But he couldn’t get his mom on track. That’s on them, not us. It isn’t our fault.

"Isn’t it, Bryce? I don’t think Moussa could get Queen Awa ‘on track’ any more than we could persuade our mother to