Prologue
There was nothing more beautiful than Savannah at the cusp of summer.
Flowers were in bloom, the foliage on the trees thick and well-nourished from the increasing humidity and warmth. Butterflies were everywhere, enjoying sweet nectar while birds created a perfect symphony overhead.
The afternoon storm had given way to rays of sunshine dancing across the horizon, the rain exacerbating the rich, floral scents filling the air. Some might say I was a dreamer, but the reality of everyday life was a stark contrast to the beauty of nature.
Tonight was no exception.
On top of yet another shitty day, my mother had called, her insistent tone instantly putting me on edge. She knew better than to try to encourage me to come to the house she’d easily made her own. It certainly wasn’t my home and never would be. Not for the obvious reasons such as that I was now an adult and never planned on living under the same roof with my mother and her husband again. My life was just beginning, college taking all my time.
There were other less admirable reasons.
Or maybe I should say darker, more vile reasons.
I’d been accused of not caring enough about my family. That wasn’t true. I simply cared about a family lost, a mother who’d once been loving and kind. My palms were sweaty just thinking about going inside.
Was I thankful she’d finally come out of her deep depression? Of course. After losing my father to such a horrible crime years before, she deserved happiness, yet from the beginning of their whirlwind romance lasting three weeks, I’d had my doubts the man was completely admirable. Plus, he had a sordid reputation, which should have given her the perfect excuse to keep her distance.
Instead, she’d fallen head over heels in love.
I’d tried to tell her the real estate developer was a smarmy man, but she’d refused to hear what a teenager had to say.
I had difficulty trusting anyone, but I hated the man and his son. My mother had tried to say he was the brother I’d never had. In the years I’d been forced to deal with him, he’d been a bully, a twisted kid with an attitude since his father was rich. He’d acted as if he owned Savannah and every city surrounding it because of his wealth and their power.
His friends were all wealthy, the pack of assholes acting as if they didn’t need to follow rules or laws. What pissed me off was that there never seemed to be any consequences. No one would dare fuck with Zane Emmett.
He and his father were exactly the same. They were standoffish pricks with entitlement issues. Fortunately, he’d been away at college for two years, rarely returning home. Thank God for small favors.
With exhaustion settling in, when I pulled up in front of my stepfather’s home in the heart of the South Historic District, I had a very bad taste lingering in my mouth. I was only here out of a favor to my mother. And the fact that she’d assured me she was alone, my stepfather always working. As I stepped out, I shielded my eyes from the waning light and peered at the gothic house.
Maybe I was a little superstitious, but the massive four-story building and its ornate façade had given me the creeps from the first time I’d laid eyes on it. I could swear I’d seen the location in some horror flick over the years, only the demons hadn’t been played by actors but ghosts haunting the place.
Living there had been even worse, demons plaguing my nightmares and they’d always had the same face.
Zane’s.
I shuddered as I headed toward the door, reminding myself there was protocol when coming to the house. They had staff, men and women who tended to everyday needs from shopping to landscaping, cleaning and if I had to guess, kissing the patriarch’s ass.
The sharp knock was quickly answered by a polite but stern-looking older woman.
“Ms. Dunham. You were expected. You’ll find—”
“Thank you, Margaret. I think I can find my mother by myself.” Maybe I was being rude, but the pomp and circumstance was completely foreign to the way I’d grown up. At least until the tragic day just after my tenth birthday. We’d had a loving, happy household with daily laughter and a messy house, but there had been love and light even if everything wasn’t in a perfect place.
Then everything had changed, shattering the rose-colored glasses I’d been stupid enough to wear. Never again.
When I walked into this house, it felt more like I’d entered a mausoleum. There was no music, no sound other than the clicking of my boots on the twenty-four-by-twenty-four marble slabs. No life other than the people living here, even though my sweet mother was little more than a shell of who she used to be. And no sign of love anywhere.
My friends and my roommate had advised me my extreme hatred and constant criticism of my mother’s marriage and her surroundings was based on my fury at my father for daring to die, leaving us all alone.
They’d encouraged therapy.
I’d chosen to relish my hatred of the Emmett family and keep my nose to the grindstone. As soon as possible, I was moving very far away.
I headed through the house, ignoring the priceless works of art and Persian rugs, each one costing more than I made in a year. I knew where I’d find her. When my stepfather was out of the house, she spent her time in the conservatory. A fancy name for the room that had the grand piano.
We’d had an old upright when I was a kid. The whole family used to love hearing her play. Sometimes she’d sing, her voice like a sweet lullaby. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d bothered.
At least as I approached, I was gifted with a mini concert. Instead of heading inside immediately, I hugged the wall just outside the door, enjoying remembering the past. When she crashed her arms down on the keys, it was my cue to go in. A single wrong note had pushed her over the edge.
Since my father’s death, her entire personality had changed. Very slowly, she’d driven her sadness into a black box, emerging angry and bitter. Then another personality had emerged, one as greedy and self-serving as my stepfather.
Now I barely recognized her any longer.
I didn’t bother knocking, opening the door and taking long strides in her direction where she remained sitting upright, her fingers still on the keys of the piano. She was dressed elegantly while I was wearing a jean skirt and a university sweatshirt, my combat boots more out of defiance than comfort. My stepfather hated them.
“Hey, Mom. I have something for you.” A peace offering. Flowers. And I wasn’t certain why I’d bothered. Maybe because I used to pick wildflowers for her as a child, eager to see the joy they brought her since we had no money.
Maybe I just longed to relive those days before she’d grown used to the money and clout, her entire personality cold. She’d even told me more than once never to mention my real father again. I’d wanted to hate her, but at least I’d learned through advice that the only way she’d managed to deal with her grief was by pretending that life didn’t exist.
She turned her head, immediately frowning seeing the clothes I’d chosen as well as the cheap bouquet I held in my hand. Her disdain left an acrid taste in my mouth. “I didn’t hear you come in.” At least she managed a smile if only briefly and a tiny part of the mother who’d shooed away monsters and created magical kingdoms returned. “Oh, they’re… lovely.”
Lovely. She hated them. I didn’t care. I’d tried and wouldn’t bother doing so again.
“I thought you needed a little pick-me-up.” I watched as she fingered the velvet petals. Just before my father had died, he’d brought her pink roses. For years, she’d kept the dried petals, protected in the filmy sheet of pink blush surrounding them when purchased. My guess was they’d been burned during the move.
“You’re so sweet.” The light of remembrance began to fade, the blank mask I’d become accustomed to returning. I suddenly shivered, curious as to why the urgency, having me rush here from school.
“It sounded like you needed to see me for a reason.” My skin was already crawling.
“I’m fine. Just… Fine.” Yet she had a faraway look in her eyes. She took a few seconds to inhale the scent of the roses. Maybe I hadn’t been a good enough daughter in ensuring that she had what she needed and didn’t require a shoulder to cry on. I just hadn’t been up for the task. I wasn’t good at lying or pretending.
Plus, she’d chosen her husband and new life over her daughter.
“Then what is it? I have midterms to study for.”
As soon as she lifted her head, her eyes darting to the side, my blood turned to ice. I should have known better. “I’m sorry, Daniella. Zane was worried about me and insisted I call you. Plus, we have a few things to discuss, and I thought it better coming from me given your hatred of your father.”
Just hearing the term made me cringe deep inside. “You mean Walter? He’s not my father.”
“Don’t be a little bitch.” The shock of her tone and the word she used hurt worse than if she’d slapped me.
“What?”
“You heard me.” She jerked to a standing position, the flowers all but forgotten. “You’ve been so ungrateful since we were given the gift of being taken into Walter’s home and his life.”
“Mom. That’s crazy. Gift?” The old argument was on the tip of my tongue.
She moved closer, her eyes turning into pinpricks. “God. I don’t know you any longer. Who do you think put food on the table and bought your clothes? Who do you think provided the money for that fancy college you’re in?”
Maybe she’d forgotten, but since the day I’d turned fifteen, I’d worked my butt off. Even earlier, I’d babysat for anyone who’d allow me to take care of their kid. I’d set aside every dime for my dreams. Walter had insisted on paying for my college education, choosing the only college acceptable for a girl like me. I fought tears because I no longer recognized her.
“What are you trying to tell me?”
“That the freeloading is over.”
I had no idea what to say. “I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t.” The look in her eyes was one I couldn’t understand and certainly didn’t want to learn more about.
A sick feeling pooled in my stomach, cramps forcing me to pant. “So what do you want?”
“For you to finally learn to be obedient. Given your attitude, I feel I need to be blunt. You’re going to be married, Daniella. Now, we’ll make all the arrangements to ensure the wedding and reception are the social event of the year. Fortunately, Walter was able to make suitable arrangements given you aren’t blood. This will bring our family name back from the shadows.”
What? What in the hell was she telling me? Shadows? What shadows? “Married? I have no intention of being married to anyone Walter suggests. Ever.”
I was wrong. The savage slap across my face was far worse. Pain tore through the side of my head, my ears ringing. I fought tears and failed, two trickling past my lashes. My mother had never hit me, not even to discipline me as a child.
With my hand pressed against my burning cheek, I finally stared at her, furious and confused by the hatred I suddenly felt for her. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because it’s what Walter wants to occur and I owe him. You owe him. Fortunately, I’ve managed to convince him to allow you to finish college. However, you’ll be married and living with your husband. After you graduate, you’ll begin a family.”
The disbelief was shaded by my anger. “Who is this man?”
“A son of a very important client of your father’s.”
Translation. One of the Brotherhood boys, the twisted anarchists who ruled the city along with their powerful fathers. Hell, they ruled the state and beyond. Their power and greed knew no bounds. Neither did their sick proclivities. I’d learned enough about them that the thought of being married to one brought utter terror.
“Don’t ever call him my father again!”
“You bitch.”
Memories flooded the back of my mind, images of the life I’d had as a child. Loving, happy memories even in poverty.
When she acted as if she was going to slap me a second time, I backed away. “I’m not doing this.”
“You will. It’s been decided. You will not disobey me.” The ‘or else’ was implied.
My entire world just came crashing down. All the laughter and times together, Christmases and birthdays we shared. Even without money, we’d made them special. Now, this.
“I won’t do it.”
“Oh, yes, you will.” The strange look in her eyes frightened me. There was nothing left of the woman I’d known my whole life. “We’ll talk more in the next couple days, but you will comply.”
My mother was threatening me. Numbness settled in from the shock and horror.
I spun on my heel, furious with her for allowing herself to be used. I was finished with playing the games. No one was going to manipulate me. That wasn’t my personality.
That came from my father.
The moment I tried to flee, I knew what I’d find. My stepbrother was standing just inside the doorway, blocking my exit. He wore a creepy smile, more like a leer and as soon as we’d made eye contact, he swept his gaze with deliberate movements down to my thick boots. The corners of his mouth upturned as if he was keeping a dark and dirty secret.
Since the day I’d met him, he’d tried his best to intimidate me. Every single time he’d failed. That’s why he and his buddies had stalked me, enjoying the chase. Or what they called the hunt. While he wasn’t bad looking, his arrogance created demons swirling around him, eager to feast on his soul when the time was right. The imagery had developed the very first time I’d met him.
Now it did even more as he stood in bare feet wearing jeans and an open shirt, with mussed-up hair as if he’d just been fucking one of his Barbie doll girlfriend wannabes. The man made my stomach turn. The glint of the gold he always wore around his neck shimmered under the LED lighting. It was a damn symbol of the gang he ran with.
All the wealthy sons of powerful men, their acts of entitlement symbolized by matching necklaces. He and his friends all but ruled the campus. I could only imagine what they’d be like as fully functioning adults. Their twisted criminal acts of sex and sin were emboldened by fear. And the fact that their fathers had a wide-reaching influence. From what I could see, the sons were worse than their fathers. But I wanted nothing to do with their games.
I wasn’t certain of his intentions, but I wasn’t in the mood for bullshit, so I rushed past him without saying a word.
“Aren’t you concerned about your mother’s welfare?” His chiding voice did so get on my nerves.
“Are you threatening my mother?” A low blow even for him.
“Of course not. Why should I find the need?” He was even creepier than usual. “She’s very compliant. Which is what you’ll learn to be. After you’re broken in.”
Oh, my God. Huffing, I continued my path. The less interaction we had the better.
“We need to talk, sissy of mine.”
“For the love of God, I’m not your sister, Zane, and we have nothing to talk about. You have your world and I have mine. We’re not going to be one big happy family.”
“Oh, but you are, sister, at least in spirit, and yes, we do.”
God, his voice grated on my nerves.
This time, I chose to ignore him. There wouldn’t be any satisfaction in falling prey to his game of goading. That’s how he handled business, if not merely by bullying his employees, his clients, and his adversaries.
“Your dear mother tells me you’ve refused to see her. Your own mother. What a terrible daughter you are.”
Here we go. Asshole. Prick. At least the man was predictable.
I’d almost made it to the entrance foyer when he finally pushed a button that I wouldn’t tolerate. “Get away from me.”
“You do realize that with a single phone call I could destroy you and your mother. After what she did, it wouldn’t take much. One little phone call. That’s how much power I have in this city.”
I had no idea what he was alluding to, but I just didn’t care. That was it. I wasn’t usually prone to violence, but he’d plucked my last nerve to the point there was no holding back. “Try it, buddy, and face my wrath.”
His laugh was demonic. Pure evil.
“You will get married. Fortunately, he’s a buddy of mine and guess what? We’ve agreed to share. Much like we do with all our little lambs. You’re worth something, at least in the sack. We might even party with our friends. Would you like that?”
Oh, my God. The man was sick.
Taking long strides, I slammed him against the wall with a single hand. You bet he was shocked. He’d never even seen me lose my temper. I’d suffered in silence for long enough. Never again. “Listen, you fucking prick. You’re a tired little boy who obviously didn’t get enough attention growing up. You can play your sick games of power, but that won’t work with me. I’m not marrying anyone from this shitty town. And you’re never going to touch me. I’ll make certain of it.”
Perhaps I’d underestimated the prick and his strength. Before I realized what he’d done, he’d twisted the moment, spinning me around and shoving me into the wall. Now with his one hand wrapped around my throat, he used the other to yank up the bottom of my skirt. “You have no understanding of what I can do to you, sister of mine. Do you? There are no threats you can toss out that mean anything to me. You don’t understand who I am and what I can do. But you’re going to learn.”
“Get off me.” I jammed one hand against his chest, smacking and punching his other with my fist. I could tell by the look in his stone-cold eyes he’d been planning on using me for some twisted game. My instinct had told me all the accusations leveled at his father’s company held merit.
Zane purposely squeezed his fingers, cutting off a portion of my air supply. His eyes were lit as if he was having the time of his life. When he laughed, the stench of his breath from expensive scotch created a wave of disgusting nausea. “It’s past time we talked about your future status. Everything is falling into line. Soon, I’ll have everything I want. Including the ultimate prize. You’re nothing but a whore. So here’s what’s going to happen. I won the bet. I get a taste of you first.”
What in the hell was he talking about? I drove my fist into his chest and yanked on his hand slowly trying to crawl up my leg.
“Tsk. Tsk. A little wildcat, huh? That’s fine. I like them a little crazy. Tonight, you’re going to learn a lesson you’ll never forget.”
What the fuck? The asshole was completely out of his mind. If the understanding we were stepbrother and sister held no meaning to him, then maybe my hatred of him might jog his mind. “Not a chance in hell.”
The bastard didn’t use his words for rebuttal, squeezing my throat until I saw stars.
I was rarely shocked by anything any longer, but his horrid actions shackled my response for long enough that he slipped his hand to my leg, his fingers coming dangerously close to the thin lace covering my pussy.
His grip became too strong on both my throat and my leg. With my air supply being cut, I was already having difficulty breathing, a few stars crowding my vision. The second the son of a bitch moved his hand up my leg, a switch flipped.
If the fucker thought he was going to take advantage of me, he was dead wrong.
Using every ounce of force I had from years spent in the gym and a few martial arts classes, I maneuvered my hands just so and shoved with all I had.
The connection broken, I hauled off and cracked my hand across his face. Hissing, I was thankful the force was enough he was pitched backward, smashing into a prized vase that had precariously been positioned on a stone column. As it came crashing down, I backhanded him, finally sending him to the floor.
“You son of a bitch. If you dare touch me ever again, I will have you arrested on sexual assault. Am I being clear enough for you?” I certainly had no intention of waiting for him to resurrect himself. Spinning on my heels, I took long strides toward the front door.
Agony tore through me again as he yanked me by my hair, pitching me against the thick pillar holding some twisted piece of art.
I fell onto my hands and knees, the pain blinding. Winded, for a few seconds I was unable to move. My God. What was I going to do? There was no one here to help me.
He was suddenly behind me, ripping at my panties. When I heard his zipper, I gathered the last of my strength, maneuvering my leg until I was able to jam my foot into his chest. He went sprawling across the floor and I scrambled away, my fingers touching the sculpture.
Just as he lunged forward, his leer of lust unlike anything I’d ever seen, I twisted, issued a primal cry, and slammed the heavy piece against his head.
Very slowly, he was tossed back onto his heels, taking gasping breaths until he finally fell onto his side on the floor.
I forced myself to my feet, no longer able to feel my arms or legs, the knot in my stomach suffocating. He was still breathing, but blood had already started to pool under his head.
An ugly realization hit me.
This wasn’t my home.
All the memories I’d had with a beautiful past had been ripped away. Now they needed to be dead and buried. No one would ever believe my story. Zane Emmett was from a family of power. His father owned the police and the government.
And everything in between.
My mother had forsaken me.
I rushed to the door, tears blinding me. There was no returning to my life. No chance of finding a way through this.
My life as I knew it was over.
As of today, Daniella Dunham was dead.
[divider]Chapter One
Eight years later…
Sinclair
Very little tempered the darkness furrowing inside.
My lineage was all about power and control.
While feared by those who would dare oppose the Prince family, there were others who respected both our accomplishments and our savagery. With wealth came opposition, enemies daring to believe they could take what belonged to us.
Often in our world it was kill or be killed.
And I certainly didn’t have a death wish.
While I was no stranger to methods of brutality, reveling in the sheer joy of overpowering anyone with balls big enough to challenge me, I was often reminded I wasn’t getting any younger.
However, the power I wielded was undeniable.
After chasing the asshole down a back alley, I’d dragged him back to the comfort and privacy of a secure warehouse. “Who is this son of a bitch?” I rubbed my eyes, furious at the situation. How had three men gone unnoticed long enough to break into the warehouse and steal a crate full of party favors? Expensive party favors.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“He’s nobody from what I can tell.” My Capo was mildly amused whereas I was livid. “But maybe we should check. The other two managed to get away.”
Yeah. Tell me something I didn’t know.
“I don’t give a shit who the fucker is, Enzo. He could be the president’s son for all I care. I’m not playing a fool’s game here.” No one stole from us, especially some two-bit foot soldier for some street gang who thought he’d found an easy score. Unfortunately, it had been. Far too easy.
Someone had known exactly how much time they had before someone arrived at the facility. Three minutes. It had taken three men all of three minutes to break inside, hotwire one of our loaders, and drop the millions of dollars’ worth of product into an awaiting van. They would have been miles away had I not been close when the alarm went off. The two in the van had managed to drive away and with the afternoon traffic, finding them would be next to impossible.
By now, the van was ditched, the product safely hidden.
I was one pissed-off Underboss. The protection of the cargo had been my responsibility. Even worse, the site had been temporary, the location known by very few in our organization.
Enzo snorted as if what I’d just spouted in anger was nothing but a caustic tale of bullshit. “Yes, sir.” He grinned and took a step away, holding up his hands.
“Do you hear that, you son of a bitch? I’m in a shitty mood and if you want to know the truth, it’s all because of you. You interrupted my entire goddamn schedule.” I glared down at the bloodied and broken man. We weren’t getting anywhere and were close to the tourist trap of the French Quarter. Hissing, I raked my hands through my hair, glaring at my right hand.
My knuckles were going to swell.
I pushed him away, finally backing away while thinking about how in God’s name the bastard and his buddies had managed to infiltrate the operation. This was definitely not how I’d wanted to end my day.
When Enzo yanked the asshole’s head back several inches, the worthless piece of shit opened his eyes, the swollen tissue covering almost every inch of his face giving me a smile.
I walked closer, taking the time to study his face, leaning over in order to do so. There was no fear in the man’s eyes and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was amused by the entire situation. “You fucked with the wrong people.”
“Do you… think I give… a shit?” His gruff words were followed by a wheeze, the asshole spitting a spray of blood across my face.
I took a deep breath before smashing my Glock across his face, knocking out two of his teeth. The dinging sound as they toppled to the deck gave me a smile. I rubbed the back of my hand across my face, hissing from the sight of the bloodstained spittle. “That was your last mistake.”
Enzo cautioned me with his eyes, but he hadn’t needed to. I could hear the rousing music of Bourbon Street as if I was sitting in a bar watching a crisp, enthusiastic jazz band.
“Maybe we should do this somewhere else,” my Capo suggested so only I could hear.
I knew he had a point. However, his wise suggestion didn’t mean I was in the mood to take any shit. Just the opposite.
While I’d come to despise weakness on any level, I also loathed a dying man’s defiance. I pointed the barrel of the gun against his forehead, studying his face in the waning light. When he smiled, it was all I could to do keep my composure.
“You stepped into a lion’s den,” he huffed, the warning only fueling my anger. A lion’s den. The sentiment was interesting. More like a rat’s nest and I was the exterminator. Me? Was he fucking kidding me? His choice of words was interesting. I should take the time to torture the meaning out of him, but I didn’t have that much patience.
“And you obviously don’t know who you are dealing with.”
“The great Prince family,” he huffed, laughing, although the sound was strangled. “So the fuck what?”
“Perhaps you need to choose your friends more wisely. They left you all alone to take the brunt of my anger.” I could tell he was annoyed. He knew more than he was willing to share.
For now.
At least the car was close where I could dump him in the trunk and deal with his sorry ass later. Perhaps when I was in a better mood.
“What do you want to do?” Enzo lifted his eyebrows.
I was angry enough I wanted to slit the asshole’s throat. But I’d refrain. He and two of his friends had managed to steal an entire cargo container of party favors coming in from Colombia. He’d been the unlucky one, twisting his ankle while being chased. His buddies had left him in the middle of the road even though they’d seen me gaining on the douchebag.
“Help me get him to the car. I need to spend some private time with him away from all this.” I waved my hand because I could hear the jazz music even through the thick walls of the small warehouse. The sound wasn’t conducive to acts of torture. I preferred hearing every sound they made during the ordeal. The theft continued to drive me bat shit crazy, the brazenness of their action ridiculous.
The location almost never had illegal drugs stored inside. It was used as an auxiliary for the restaurant and club we owned. That meant someone from the inside had tipped off the thieves. Not only did I need to learn their identity, but flushing out the traitor was imperative.
I’d do so at my leisure.
Enzo easily grabbed the kid, tossing him over his shoulder. I grumbled the entire time, yanking out my key fob. While I used to enjoy this part of my job, the older I got, the more I loathed the break in routine.
I checked the exterior before motioning my Capo outside. You never knew where tourists ventured. “Dump him in the trunk.” I grabbed the rope I stored alongside other necessities needed for this very reason. While it wasn’t often someone betrayed or stole from us so brazenly, I’d learned a long time ago to be prepared for anything.
Still cursing and with Enzo still chuckling, I wrapped the asshole’s wrists, tying them to his ankles. Then I shoved a cloth in his mouth. If he woke up from the near coma I’d put him in, I certainly didn’t want him escaping or drawing any attention.
After all, I had the Prince reputation to uphold.
“Do you want me to meet you at the warehouse?”
Sighing, I stared up at the late afternoon sun. “You know what? We’re going to allow our guest to spend a full night at Hotel Hell. Maybe that will soften him up.”
“You’re in a rotten mood.”
I slammed the trunk lid, still glaring at him. “I was enjoying a day off until the alarm sounded. Then you called.” At least I know my Capo was paying attention. Maybe I’d need to give him a raise.
“Speaking of which. I have tickets to a game tonight.” He eyed me almost sheepishly.
He was my go-to man. Always there when I needed him.
“I mean if you need me, I’ll let the thousand-dollar Saints tickets go.” He knew how to pull at heartstrings, which was why he’d never had any trouble getting women. Drove me nuts. He had a better track record than I did.
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Go to the game. Take whatever wench you’re dating and enjoy yourself. I’ll toss him into the warehouse after driving around for an hour or so.” Only my Capo could make me feel like such a fucking Grinch as an employer. “Who’s the girl?”
He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “She’s a real hottie. A former Dallas Cowboy cheerleader.”
“I don’t how you do it, but good for you.”
Enzo lifted an eyebrow. “It’s called dating. You should try it sometime, boss.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Dating is highly overrated.”
“Maybe, but getting your dick wet once in a while makes for a happy man.”
Over the years, he’d become a friend. Speaking of which. Maybe I’d call up my good buddy Joe and see if he wanted to grab a beer. It had been a long time since I’d enjoyed myself. “I think I do just fine, but thanks for the advice.”
“Just trying to help you with your grouchy syndrome.” He took a purposeful step away. If he hadn’t worked for me for so long, I’d likely punch him the face for such disrespect.
That’s what my brother, the ruthless Don of the Prince family would do.
He waved me off and headed away from the warehouse while I climbed into my Charger. What I needed at this point was a distraction, something soothing to calm the irritation. Maybe he was right in that I needed a night of passion.
That’s all it ever was. I’d learned my lesson about women the hard way. Caring was a weakness. Their presence was weakness, not only in body and spirit, but also as a target to every enemy.
Before heading out, I turned on the satellite radio, flipping to my favorite heavy metal station and turning up the volume. Maybe I’d take the slow ride home. Or I should say the rough roads. I yanked out my sunglasses, donning the shades and pressing down on the accelerator.
Windows down. Music loud. A certain cure to the burdensome fury.
As I drove through the city streets, I thought about the last few months. They’d been grueling. Enough that I hadn’t taken a day off since the shit with the Russo family had occurred. An Italian family who’d dared cross us. They’d learned the hard way just how powerful we were. Now we owned them.
Managing their territory had become my full-time job. The Italian Don was experiencing his last days on Earth, still acting as if he didn’t owe us for rescuing his ass from the Bratva.
The Italians had only recently become our allies.
Not by choice.
Now, by marriage, my brother to the Don’s illegitimate daughter. The poor girl hadn’t known what she’d gotten herself into when agreeing to love and cherish Alexander.
I picked up speed as I tapped my fingers across the steering wheel, the sounds of the band Disturbed exactly what was needed.
Their brutal beat and unforgiving lyrics had a calming effect.
What the hell. It was a nice day, certainly less humid than usual. Why not drive with the windows down?
Making a turn, I headed toward Woldenberg Park, a location I used to frequent from time to time, the waterfront views relaxing. It was a shortcut to our main warehouse, which would allow me to rid myself of my companion much sooner. Damn it. He’d likely gotten blood all over the trunk’s interior. I’d just had the car cleaned the day before.
Still grousing, I made another turn, now parallel to the park’s sixteen acres.
With the overhanging trees, the light level was low, but a flash and a wild blur of activity caught my attention. My reactions were instantaneous, slamming on the brakes, the tires skidding as the powerful engine slowed to a crawl.
But not slowly enough, an unmistakable thud and loud yelp overpowering the music.
Then a high-pitched feminine scream the second the car rolled to a stop. Yanking off my sunglasses, it took me a few seconds to realize I’d hit an animal.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Without hesitation, I threw open the door and jumped onto the pavement. A woman was crouched on the street with her back to me, gasping for breath. I could barely see what I’d run into.
Only when she lifted her head did I realize a dog was lying on the street. Her face was scrunched, her chest heaving. And I certainly didn’t expect what she’d do.
She flew at me with such intense fury I was completely shocked. Her tiny fists pounded on my chest.
“How fucking dare you. You hurt my baby! You hurt my son.”
I was so aghast I looked over her shoulder toward the creature. A dog. A huge, beautiful dog. At least I could tell he was alive from the ragged but constant rise and fall of the massive beast’s chest.
“Are you listening to me?” Now she was shaking me, intense venom in her eyes and the kind of powerful rage that clouded her features.
“Whoa. Hold on,” I managed.
She tried punching me again, prompting an automatic reaction. I pulled her tightly against me to prevent her fist from connecting with my face. She wiggled and gyrated, pitting our pelvises together.
Fuck me. Did the wildcat have any idea the level of friction and heat she’d created? Didn’t she feel the hardness of my cock pressing between her legs? For a few seconds, I debated keeping her in a firm hold. I liked the way she felt against me, the weight of her in my arms.
But she was having none of it, continuing to punch me as if I was threatening her life.
She went way beyond being a wildcat. She was an entire pride of female lions eager and willing to devour their prey.
Oh, the thought tightened my balls.
Did she have any idea how cute she was in her neon purple jogging pants and the brightest lime green shirt I’d ever seen?
“Hold on?” she hissed. “You hit my beautiful baby boy on purpose. You tried to kill Indiana.”
Was she kidding me? I’d never had anyone accuse me of murdering an animal and plenty of people over the years had accused me of some heinous acts.
My response and my reaction couldn’t have been worse.
“Wait a minute. He ran out into the road and into me. I’d say he was purposely trying to wreck my car.” Wow. She’d certainly managed to push buttons I didn’t know existed. Shock tore through me as she managed to push herself away, hauling off and slamming her fist into my jaw.
What the fuck?
For a small woman, she packed a mean punch, the force pitching me back against the Charger’s grille.
With another hiss and her nose wrinkling, she flopped back to Indiana’s side.
I rubbed my jaw, admiring her conviction and her ability to catch me off guard. A small crowd had appeared, the gawkers just another irritation.
“Nothing to see here,” I snapped.
That resulted in another glare from the wildcat. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy is right here. We’re going to get you to the vet. Everything is going to be okay.”
When the dog whapped his tail against the pavement, I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d done a lot of horrible shit in my life, but killing an animal under any circumstances wasn’t one of them. Risking life and limb, I knelt beside her, studying the pup’s condition.
“There’s no blood.” As if I knew what the fuck I was talking about.
“Are you a goddamn veterinarian?” she snarled. “There could be internal injuries. Broken bones. Look at him.”
He was still wagging his tail, even managing to lift his head, but I wasn’t going to argue with her. She was right. There could be hidden injuries. “Let me help you take him to your car.”
“Does it look like I have a car? Look at the way I’m dressed.” She pointed to the attached leash. “This is a fucking park. We walk here almost every day from where I live. Two miles from here.”
Every word out of her mouth was accusatory. Wow. But I did take the time to study the way she was dressed. Sexy as hell in an eclectic way that kept my cock twitching.
“You were driving too fast,” she continued then issued a growl easily rivaling one of mine. “Fucker.”
Every word out of her mouth pushed my irritation to a new level.
“Hold on. You didn’t have control over your dog?” The leash was still attached to his collar. Yes, she had a point. At least I’d been able to react quickly.
My God, the woman was beautiful in a fiery kill-him-if-you-can way that floored me. With the last rays of sun highlighting rich, copper hair, eyes the color of the Aegean Sea, and freckles scattered across smooth, porcelain skin, her appearance was a wicked combination of faery and goddess. But one with a lightning bolt in her hand.
I had a sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to fist a handful of her hair, yanking until I was able to expose the long line of her neck, which was begging for my fingers to wrap around it. I envisioned her naked and suddenly my dick was hard. Not a good look for a man who’d just injured a dog by accident.
And she was already eager and ready to crucify me.
The brief few seconds we glared at each other, she dared drag the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip. Not in any way to indicate interest. The slight action was solely based on her continued agitation.
“You fucking son of a bitch. Indy pulled away from me because some asshole had music blaring from his car.” She threw the Charger another nasty look. “He adores Disturbed. His favorite music. He always reacts even though I’ve tried to keep him from bolting. Goddamn it. This can’t be happening.”
Her rage was slowly being eaten by anxiety and concern.
“I am sorry. Maybe you’re right in that I wasn’t paying close enough attention.”
“You’re damn right. You’re going to take me to the vet.” The flash of her gorgeous eyes could cut a man to ribbons.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” I wasn’t going to take the risk of her realizing I had a body in the back of my trunk so I could do my good deed for the day.
“You can and you will. I can’t carry him. He weighs almost a hundred pounds. This is your fault and you’re going to fix it.”
Exhaling, I knew there was no other choice. I had a feeling if I tried to leave, she’d successfully chase me down.
There were worse things than to be hunted by a beautiful vixen.
As I looked at the pup, I could swear with our eyes locking he was reading me, connecting with me.
“What do I do?”
“Do you have a backseat in that… thing?”
“That thing is a two thousand twenty-five Scat Pack Charger. You have no idea the horsepower.”
“Then you’re going to use your muscle car and testosterone booster to get me to the vet quickly. Now, pick him up in your arms. Gently.”
I’d never had a single person in my life, other than my father, who’d barked orders like I was some wet behind the ears private. Especially a woman. Fuck. I commanded a room when I walked in, including garnering unconditional respect. What in the hell did she think she was doing?
Even with the irritation, I found myself scooping the heavy dog in my arms, doing what I could to be very gentle. He whimpered and I froze, peering down into his soulful eyes and saying a small and very silent prayer that nothing happened to him.
Even in death she’d haunt me.
This was the last thing I needed.
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