CASSIO

Belles & Mobsters Series Collection

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 EVA WINNERS

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To my daughters, love you always and forever. You are my
reason.

To my Happy Hour Ladies – you help me keep my sanity.

What happens at the happy hour, stays there. Right?

To all my family and friends – thank you!

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 CONTENTS

Warning
Belles & Mobsters Series Collection
Playlist

Prologue
1. Cassio
2. Áine
3. Cassio
4. Cassio
5. Cassio
6. Cassio
7. Áine
8. Cassio
9. Áine
10. Áine
11. Cassio
12. Cassio
13. Áine
14. Cassio
15. Áine
16. Áine
17. Cassio
18. Cassio
19. Áine
20. Cassio
21. Áine
22. Cassio
23. Áine
24. Áine
25. Áine
26. Cassio
27. Áine
28. Cassio
29. Áine
30. Cassio
31. Áine
32. Cassio
33. Áine
34. Cassio
35. Cassio
36. Áine
37. Cassio
38. Áine
39. Cassio
40. Áine
41. Cassio
42. Áine
43. Cassio
44. Áine
Epilogue
Preview Of Belles & Mobsters: Alexei

Acknowledgments
Connect With Me

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 WARNING

This Ebook contains disturbing scenes and adult

language and may be considered offensive to some
readers. This e-book is intended for adults ONLY.
Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be
accessed by under-aged readers.

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 BELLES & MOBSTERS SERIES COLLECTION

Each book in the Belles & Mobster series can be read as a

standalone.

If you’d like a preview to the Belles and Mobsters Alexei,

Book Four, make sure to keep reading and check out the
prologue after the ending of Cassio.

OceanofPDF.com
Belles & Mobsters Series Collection

Each book in the Belles & Mobster series can be read as a standalone.

If you’d like a preview to the Belles and Mobsters Alexei, Book Four, make sure
to keep reading andcheck out the prologue after the ending of Cassio.

COPYRIGHT

Copyright © 2022 by Winners Publishing LLC and Eva Winners

Cover Image Designer: Eve Graphic Design LLC

Photographer: Joe Penny

Model: Matty Ducker
All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or

mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems,
without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief
quotations in a book review.No part of this book may be reproduced in any form
or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and
retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the
use of brief quotations in a book review.

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 PLAYLIST

IF YOU’D LIKE to hear a soundtrack with songs that are

featured in this book, as well as songs

that inspired me, here’s the link:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/
5cxtMk8yonR8dYFRFeR16A?si=
qtdJ2IkxQHyM7aFPOXPZuw

In no particular order…
“Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish
“Gateway Drug” - Bebe Rexha
“Bad Bitch” - Bebe Rexha
“Do re mi” - Blackbear
“Scars to Your Beautiful” - Alessia Cara
“Him & I” - Halsey, G-Eazy
“Too Good To Be True” - Faith Richards
“SexyBack” - Justin Timberlake, Timbaland

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 PROLOGUE

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 Cassio - Nine years ago

“W here the fuck is she, Cassio?”

Luca, my brother, was weary. I couldn’t blame
him. We didn’t do favors for the Irish regularly. But this one
seemed important to Callahan and the fact that he came to
me begging for the favor spoke volumes. Let’s just say that
having the head of the Irish owe me would be priceless.
And my brother and I would need the favor returned any
day. We needed alliances if we were to become stronger,
and this seemed like a good place to start.
Our father, Benito King, could decide at a moment’s
notice, he no longer needed us. I was under no illusion that
he’d eliminate us without a second thought. After all, it
wouldn’t be the first time he tried.
Keep your friends close. But keep your enemies even
closer. My nonno’s favorite saying. It was only thanks to
him that Luca and I survived. Luca was still a kid the first
time my father attempted to have us killed. The greedy
bastard thought Nonno would give him a free pass to his
resources in Italy.
He didn’t count on Nico Morrelli killing his scout and
helping me kill the rest of the men he sent after me. It was
the year things started to turn for me. I forged friendships
with men that became lifelong friends. Luciano Vitale and I
grew up together, but Nico Morrelli and Alessio Russo
made us even stronger. Raphael Santos and Alexei Nikolaev
fit right in with our mission. One day, we’d burn this
motherfucking flesh trading business to the ground and my
father right along with it. In order to succeed though, we’d
have to make alliances with Bratva, Irish, Italians, cartel…
all of them. Unknowingly, Callahan opened up an
opportunity. As long as we all stood against trading women
like cattle.
“Are you sure this is not a set up?” Luca hissed. I
couldn’t blame him for being paranoid. Having Benito for a
father would do that to you.
“Yes,” I deadpanned; though truth be told, I had nothing
to base it on. Except my gut feeling. But I couldn’t say that
to Luca. He’d blow a gasket.
Luca was only five years younger than me and patience
wasn’t a virtue he held at all. And gut feeling wasn’t
something he relied on. At twenty-five, Luca was almost as
tall and strong as me. We were both hired killers, usually
sent to eliminate people. This mission, unlike most previous
ones, was to rescue, not to kill. It made him antsy.
Time was running out on us. Our helicopter wouldn’t
wait forever. This was supposed to be an in and out job. The
elevated terrain made it hard to land on the Armenian
Highlands mountain chain, Mt. Ararat being part of it. It
was the reason we couldn’t ambush these bastards and had
to come in loud and clear via helicopter.
This territory of Turkey, almost on the border of
Armenia, was pretty much lawless. It was used as a
transportation hub between Asia, Africa, and Europe for
smuggling girls. I’d know; my father participated in that
shit.
Luca’s eyes darted around, expecting an ambush. We
heard shouting outside, our guys keeping them distracted
so we could sneak in. It was mid-May and as hot as Hades
here, and the heat amplified this place’s stench tenfold.
 The sounds of crying and screaming traveled down the
tunnels; disgust and rage boiled in my blood. There was no
mistaking those were all sounds of trapped women. All of
us in the underworld were sinners, but it took a special
kind of low to delve into human trafficking. That my own
family participated in that kind of shit made me feel a
special kind of low too.
“This place makes me sick,” Luca gritted. Ditto, I
thought silently.
Luca didn’t question me when I told him I took this
assignment, but I knew he thought it was stupid to work
with the Irish. I didn’t think so. The old man, Callahan, was
too shaken up when he asked for help. I wasn’t even sure
what possessed me to agree to it. It wasn’t as if the
Callahans were our friends. There was a reluctant truce
between his family and ours, and they hated all the King
family members, regardless if we worked with or against
Benito. It was risky to do this, but the leverage it would
give us was worth it.
Truthfully, it piqued my curiosity to know why a man like
him would give a damn about some girl that was
kidnapped. He didn’t give me much. It couldn’t be a
member of his family. He had no children of his own. His
nephews didn’t have any children, and he said the girl was
around fourteen but that would mean that his niece was too
old, at sixteen, to fit the bill. The description he provided
didn’t resemble Margaret Callahan at all.
I’ll find out soon enough, I thought to myself.
Callahan was so desperate to save her, he promised me
a debt of my choosing… one to be paid whenever I decided.
Whoever this girl was, she was valuable to him.
Women’s whimpers came from the end of the tunnel,
and it took all I had not to follow it so I could handle it. But
we had a mission, rescue the girl and get her back safely.
Once that happened, Luca and I would be back. No
questions asked. We couldn’t just pretend we did our part
and move on as if there weren’t women left behind here.
“Is this the cell?” Luca asked, bringing my focus to this
situation. I scanned the area with my eyes and glanced at
the map. Yes, this was it. Our intel indicated she’d be in
this cell and there was nobody here. Leaving without her,
dead or alive, wasn’t an option. Callahan was clear… he
would pay the debt only if we brought the girl back home.
Regardless of what shape she was in.
A young boy, about fifteen, came around the corner, and
both Luca and I pointed our guns at him.
“You look for the girl? Fire in her hair?” he asked in
broken English. “English?”
Interesting description, I thought. Callahan gave a basic
description, fourteen-year-old girl, red hair, blue eyes, and
a birthmark on her upper left shoulder. A birthmark in the
shape of a butterfly.
“Where is she?” Luca spat. “You better speak, before I
blow your fucking brains out.”
“Easy, Luca,” I calmed my brother. He was just a kid,
although he had a shotgun hung over his shoulder. This
world was different from ours. “Can you show us where the
girl is… the one with fire in her hair?”
He eyed us warily and I kept my eyes firmly on him.
Danger came in all shapes and sizes. We couldn’t afford to
lower our guard, but we wouldn’t be trigger happy either.
“Follow,” he replied and turned to go down the left
corridor.
“It could be a trap,” Luca stated the obvious under his
breath.
We had two choices. Either leave empty handed or
follow the lead. Something was nudging me to follow
through, find the girl. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it
almost felt like my life depended on it. I scoffed at that. It
was more that I wanted to reap the benefits by cornering
Callahan into an open-ended debt.
 I followed, the sound of Luca’s curses behind me as he
followed along too. We walked through dark corridors. Both
of us kept our eyes and all our senses alert. It wouldn’t do
us any good to have Callahan forever in our debt if we were
dead.
Finally, the boy stopped and pointed his head towards
the door. I inched carefully and glanced through the small
iron bars on top of the wooden door.
Holy fuck!
That was the first thought as I saw a young girl
crouched into a ball in the corner of the room, rocking back
and forth. Her knees pressed against her chest, her arms
wrapped around her legs, and her face buried between
them, she rocked as if she tried to soothe herself. I couldn’t
see her face, but now I understood why the kid called her a
girl with fire in her hair. An abundance of red curls hid her
face, the colors of a burning sunset. Just like fire.
She looked fragile. Callahan said she was fourteen, but
it was hard to tell. Even from here, I could see her legs
were covered in ugly bruises.
“Can you open the door?” I asked the boy.
Luca still had his gun trained on him, in case he tried
something stupid. The boy’s eyes darted to the wall next to
the door, and I followed his gaze. There was a key hanging
there, and without question, I grabbed it and shoved the
old fashioned key into the lock. The door was a heavy wood,
probably dating back a hundred years. It was meant to
keep soldiers behind them, not women or children.
As soon as the lock sounded, the girl’s whole body
startled and her head snapped up.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Luca’s furious voice reached
behind me.
Blood was smeared all over her face, a big gash against
her temple, her lip split, and a purple bruise marred her
right cheek. What the hell did they do to her? She looked
like she had been beaten badly. Fury and rage boiled inside
me, but I controlled it, to ensure I wouldn’t scare her.
The moment her eyes connected with mine, all the
oxygen left me. She was just a kid, but her eyes… those
breathtaking, bruised, big blue eyes dominated her heart-
shaped face. There was so much pain in them, my heart
actually clenched. I had seen death, killed my fair share of
men, caused pain and destruction to a lot of them, but
nothing had ever gotten to my blackened heart. The pained
look in this girl’s eyes just about brought me to my knees.
She eyed me warily… resignation in them. She was a
fucking kid. What have they done to her?
“We are here to help you,” I spoke softly. “I’m Cassio.
This is my brother Luca.” Her eyes remained on me,
unmoving. She didn’t trust us. “Callahan sent us.”
No recognition, no movement. “We came to take you
home.”
I slowly inched closer with each word.
Her tongue swept over the cut on her bottom lip, then
she bit hard into it, causing blood to trickle down her chin.
She didn’t ease the bite, and I worried she’d bite her lip off.
“I don’t want to see anymore,” her voice was hoarse, as
if it hurt her to talk. “P-please, don’t make me.”
I had no clue what she was talking about. I swallowed
hard and emotions I had never felt before threatened to
come to the surface. That should have been my first clue.
My heart never moved. For anyone. I was a stone cold
killer, ruthless against my enemies and cold towards
everyone else.
After all, it was the reason the underworld was scared of
me and my brother. Cross me once and you were dead.
None of this bullshit with second chances. Those kinds of
sentiments got you killed.
“We are taking you home,” I said firmly, shoving my
heart that felt for this girl to the back burner. I had to
remind myself soft was not who I was.
 She didn’t move, and I took another step towards her.
“I want my mom,” she murmured, her ocean pools
tempting me to drown in them. A piece of my heart cracked
at her admission. No kid should go through something like
that. Luca and I endured beatings from our father and had
seen cruelty from an early age. We were used to it; this kid
was not.
Goddamn it, I didn’t need this now.
“She wants you too.” I kept my voice low and soft. “We’ll
take you home. Can you walk?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a lollipop. It was
a habit I’d had hard time getting rid of. When Luca and I
were kids, if our father decided to beat us, it was the only
thing that made Luca feel better, so I always kept one on
hand. I extended my hand with it, and her eyes watched my
outstretched hand and the lollipop as if she was scared that
if she reached for it, it would disappear.
“It’s okay,” I urged her on. We really had to get going,
but I didn’t want to cause her more pain or scare the shit
out of her by picking her up without her consent. God knew
what she endured here. “Take my hand.”
She reached out, her wrist at a weird angle that told me
it was broken. Her hand shook badly as she slowly,
painfully slowly, reached for mine, revealing blue and
purple bruises all up her arm too. I gritted my teeth to stop
curses from leaving my lips. The last thing she needed was
my fury. Although I tempered it, she still sensed my rage
because her reach faltered and fear flashed in her big eyes.
I closed the gap and our fingers touched. “Let’s go home
to your mom.”
She gasped softly in surprise. “You feel real,” she
whispered, her voice shaking. She took the lollipop, but I
could see the pain that crossed her features as she picked
it up.
“That’s right,” I told her. “We’ll get you out of here.”
 Rage rolled off Luca, but I was grateful he kept his
emotions at bay. This kid needed us to get her out of here,
not rain our revenge on these assholes. Though I’d be sure
to come back and burn this place down after I rescued the
rest of the women and children here.
She placed her small blood covered hand in mine, and I
wrapped my fingers around it. A slight wince crossed her
face, and I cursed myself for not being more careful.
“Can you stand up?” I asked her.
She went to move her legs pressed against her chest
and slowly she stretched them over the little corner bed. I
noted whip marks on her legs and felt myself shake with
rage. As if she felt it, those beautiful blue lagoon eyes
raised up to me.
“You are doing good,” I soothed her, forcing a smile.
Wincing, she stood up and pain crossed her face. She
was badly hurt. There would be no way she’d be able to
walk, even less run out of here.
Luca and I locked eyes, both of us having the same exact
thought.
“What’s your name?” I asked her, keeping my tone
gentle. I wasn’t sure if I succeeded. I honestly couldn’t
remember the last time I used a calming, soothing tone
towards anyone. Probably my brother when we were kids,
but that was a long time ago.
Her eyes turned wary again, and I wondered what she
was thinking. “My mum didn’t give you my name?”
It was the first time I detected a light accent in her
words. I frowned. It was British. Callahan never stepped
foot outside the U.S. Who was this girl?
“I’ve never met your mother,” I explained. It wasn’t her
mother that hired me. My sixth sense was telling me she
didn’t know Callahan. “A mutual friend of hers and mine
asked me to help.”
Although, I had no idea why. Callahan and I weren’t
exactly friends. Something about this girl seemed familiar,
but I couldn’t quite place it. It was hard to think seeing the
beaten state she was in. I wanted to punish all that had
caused her this pain, regardless that she was nothing to
me.
“Butterfly,” I started. Great, I already gave her a
nickname. “My brother, Luca, will carry you so we can get
out of here fast.” I was a better shot, so he’d have to carry
her.
“No,” she whimpered. Her whole body started shaking,
her eyes big with terror and her fingers squeezed mine
tight although I was sure that caused her pain. The lollipop
slid to the floor, but she paid it no attention.
“You can’t walk like this,” I tried to sooth her.
“You carry her,” Luca suggested in a low voice. “You
have her already; just lift her and let’s get the hell out of
here.”
He was right. I was surprised we didn’t have men
swarming this place already. Without another word, I
grabbed the lollipop off the floor, then scooted her up into
my arms effortlessly. She weighed barely anything. I knew
the movement hurt her even before the whimper left her
lips.
“I’m sorry,” I told her in a soothing voice. “I know it
hurts. When we are safe, we’ll get you a doctor.”
She shut her eyes, her breathing slightly shallow.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured softly, ensuring I had a good
grip of my gun and could maneuver my right hand with her
in my arms.
“Is there another way out?” Luca asked the kid. “Show
me a way out, and I’ll give you American dollars.”
He nodded and instead of going back the way we came,
we carried on down the cave hallway. I prayed to God this
kid delivered; otherwise, we’d all be dead. Suddenly,
getting out of here alive meant more than ever before. This
girl deserved to live.
True to the kid’s word, we found a way out.
 “Give the kid money as promised,” I told Luca. Hell, if I
had my entire bank account at disposal right now, I’d give it
to this kid.
Luca handed him a roll of hundred dollar bills. “You
shouldn’t go back there, kid,” he told him. I wasn’t sure if
he would or wouldn’t.
“Let’s go,” both of us started running.
I glanced down at a small body in my arms, covered in
blood and bruises. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, as if
she hoped everything would go away. Luca glanced her way
several times, his lips pressed in a thin line. This girl still
wore her school uniform.
How long was she here for? I recalled Callahan stating
she had been missing for a week, but this girl looked like
she’d been beaten for a month straight.
“There it is.” The helicopter was still here, thank God.
We sped up, running.
“Just in fucking time,” the co-pilot shouted. “Those
bastards were shooting at us.”
“Thank you for waiting,” I told him. He probably saved
all of our lives by waiting. “Let’s go.”
His eyes shifted to the girl in my arms, taking inventory
of her state.
“Fucking sick bastards,” he muttered with fury.
I should have put her in her own seat and buckled her
in, but she shook so bad, I didn’t have it in me. So I buckled
us together. Maybe I was going for the award for the
caretaker of the century? Fuck if I knew, but nobody had
ever brought out this protectiveness within me before. I
was protective as hell of my little brother, but that didn’t
even scratch the surface of this feeling. It was fucking
scary as shit.
The pilot glanced back and saw us violating the safety
by sitting together, but the moment his eyes traveled over
her, he remained silent about it.
 “The prime minister’s daughter?” he asked, shock
coloring his voice and disbelief in his eyes.
That’s right!
No wonder she looked familiar. She was the British
darling, a little celebrity in political and social circles. She
had been in the U.S. news a lot. Her mother was the
daughter of an old political family that had connections to
the Irish mafia. I bet it was how this rescue mission came
to be.
“Butterfly, can I check your shoulder?” I asked her in a
low voice. Callahan didn’t give me much of a description
but the butterfly birthmark was one clear designation of
our rescue target. Shame on me for not checking before
now. This was how much she rattled me.
She met my eyes and again I felt oxygen drain out of my
lungs. How was she doing this to me? Giving me a curt nod,
I unbuttoned the top button only of what used to be a white
blouse to her uniform, then peaked at the back of her
shoulder. Yes, there was a butterfly birthmark there.
“Thank you.” The fact that she let me do that spoke
volumes to me. Either she trusted me greatly or she feared
me greatly. Neither was good. I buttoned her shirt back up
and held her tight as we left the wretched place behind.
As soon as the helicopter landed twenty minutes later,
we continued towards my luxury private plane that was
waiting for us. Callahan sent a message two days ago
asking permission to wait with the girl’s mother in my
plane. We had been in the field for the past two days,
studying the ins and outs of that fucking hole and the
guards’ schedule.
Fuck, that should have been my clue this girl was
important. Callahan never left the U.S., and now he was in
the Middle East with the mother of this girl. What was the
story here?
As I climbed down the steps with the girl in my arms,
the wife of the prime minister came out meeting us halfway.
 “My baby,” she cried out, her trembling hands reaching
for her. Her mother was pale, the terror written all over her
face. I imagined the days and nights since her daughter’s
abduction were a nightmare. I recalled stories of the
several miscarriages blasted all over tabloids before they
finally had a daughter, an only child.
Her daughter looked nothing like her mother. Her
mother was in her forties, had dark hair, dark eyes, and
olive tone skin. Actually, recalling the image of the prime
minister, this girl didn’t look anything like her father either.
Callahan showed up at the door of the plane, his eyes on
the two women. His face was an unmoving mask, although
I detected anger boiling underneath it all. He met my eyes
and nodded. The acknowledgement of his debt.
No wonder he didn’t have qualms about undefined debt.
The prime minister would owe him a significant favor,
probably a lifetime of favors, for this.
“Baby,” she whispered, tears spilling down her face. Her
fingers traced her daughter’s bruised face. “It’s Mom.”
Her daughter opened her eyes, searching out for her.
My eyes traveled to Callahan, and for a fraction of a
second, his gaze shattered as he watched mother and
daughter.
“Mum,” she cried out in a low, shaking voice.
“Let’s get in and get going,” Luca told her mom,
delaying their reunion. He was right, we had to leave this
country as soon as possible.
Glancing down at this young girl, I spoke softly. “There
is a full bathroom here. Want to get cleaned up?”
“Y-yes, please.”
With her mother on my tail, I strode into the back of the
plane where the luxury bedroom was and went through the
door to a full bath with a sauna in it. To this day I never
understood why I was persuaded to buy a plane with a full
blown bathroom and sauna, but I was thankful for it now.
 I slowly sat the girl down onto the closed toilet lid and
her mother wrapped her little body into her arms.
“I am so sorry, baby,” her mother murmured against her
hair. “I am so sorry.”
“Your mom will stay here so I can talk to the pilot and
get us going,” I was careful to keep my voice soft and low.
“As soon as we are in the air, we’ll get the shower going.”
She nodded, just barely. Her face was a striking mixture
of blood and bruises against her fair skin. I wanted to go
back and bomb the place, make all those men that made
her hurt like this pay.
I stood up, ready to leave, watching in the mirror as her
mother crouched next to the girl with tears streaming down
her face.
“I got you, baby,” she murmured softly to her daughter,
wrapping her arms around her daughter.
Her mother didn’t see her daughter wince upon
receiving the hug. I wouldn’t have caught it either if I
wasn’t watching their reflection in the mirror. Despite the
pain, she leaned against her mother. Maybe it was good
that her mother came. This kid would need her now more
than ever.
Upon entering the main cabin, I saw Luca gulp a glass of
whiskey down and then pour himself another one. Seeing
me, he poured another glass and handed it to me. I needed
it; we both did.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he gulped another glass down.
Callahan sat stiffly, his eyes focused out the window. I
bet he was going down the list of items he’d make the
prime minister do for him.
I pushed the intercom. “Get us out of here,” I told the
pilot.
“Roger that,” he retorted and the engines roared to life.
“You good, brother?” I asked him. We’d both done and
seen plenty of fucked up shit, but certain things were
harder to see than others. Seeing this girl today was
definitely one of the harder things. I knew the same was
true for my brother.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I will be. But will she?”
Loud sobs broke out in the other room, and I wasn’t sure
if that was the answer. I heard Callahan’s teeth grind and
his jaw clenched, ready to snap.
There is a story there, I was sure of it. Who is this girl to
him?
“It’s okay, my baby,” we both heard the mother soothing
her daughter. “You are safe now.”
The wretched, soft sobs that followed were a hard punch
in the gut. My heart twisted for her and the pain she
undoubtedly felt. Her cries echoed through the plane, and I
could see it was hitting Luca and Callahan in the worst
ways.
“Callahan, did the prime minister give you this job?” I
questioned him. His jaw might snap at any moment.
“No, the girl’s mother did,” he answered after a
heartbeat of silence. I was surprised to hear that answer.
So where was his leverage?
“Does the prime minister know that she reached out to
the head of the Irish mafia in the U.S. to retrieve her
daughter? It is career suicide.” We all knew it was. If this
got out, regardless of the reason for it, his opponents would
bring him down.
Callahan shook his head in response.
“Why do it then?” I questioned him. “Save the girl, get
indebted to me, and get nothing out of it?”
“Her mother and I grew up together,” he replied, his
voice tired. “She should have been my wife, and that girl
should have been my daughter. That is reason enough for
me.”
Another heart wrenching sob tore through the plane and
Callahan winced. The tough fucker actually winced. People
feared him, cowered in front of him, ran from him, and he
looked like he was being torn in half now. I couldn’t blame
him though. Hearing those sobs cut deep into my heart too.
And I had barely any heart.
“I-I didn’t say anything, Mum,” the girl stuttered
through her sobs, her voice shaking with fear.
“Don’t worry about that.” Her mother’s voice was
shaking too.
“Mummy, I-”
Her sobs got harder and my hands curled into a fist. I
wanted to punch something. The pain I heard in her voice
was gutting me from the inside. Luca refilled all our drinks
without another word.
“Listen to me, my love,” her mother’s voice was like a
leaf in the wind. “Whatever happened, you shove it away.”
I heard gagging and some shuffling, the sound of glass
crashing. Instantly, all three of us ran to the back of the
plane, into the bathroom suite that was part of the
bedroom.
I got to the suite right first, on time to see the kid
getting sick into the toilet, her body convulsing and
shaking. Her mother was a mess while her daughter’s body
retched, trying to dump the contents of her stomach but
probably not having much in it.
“Baby,” her mother was rubbing her back, her voice a
whimper. The woman was trying hard to remain strong for
her daughter and failing miserably. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” The whispered, broken reply was barely
audible, her ember-flamed hair covering her face as her
forehead lay on her forearm leaning against the toilet seat.
“I didn’t say anything.” Her small body shook, and she
repeated. “I didn’t say a word.”
I wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. Not sure if I
wanted to know. I could see her mother was at a loss too.
“What do you mean, baby?” The way her mother asked
the question, I got the sense she was scared to get an
answer.
 The girl’s body retched again. In her state, I worried
how much pain she was causing herself. If a hug hurt her,
this was ten times worse. She gagged and threw up again,
nothing but acid.
“Baby, please,” her mother’s words were barely a
whisper. “Please calm down.”
“I said nothing,” she whispered through her soft sobs.
“They- the men… “ her throat was bobbing as she tried to
swallow hard. “I said nothing,” she repeated, whispering.
“I-I didn’t save them.”
Callahan came up to them, clenching his fists. Luca
stood beside me, ready to lose his shit and punch
something, and I… all I wanted to do was take this girl’s
pain away and then go back and torture every single one of
those motherfuckers.
Heavy silence fell over the room. Her mother pressed
her hand against her mouth, silencing her whimpers. She
was desperately trying to be strong for her daughter that
was falling apart in front of our eyes.
“That’s behind you now,” her mother attempted.
“I didn’t say a word to save them,” she repeated
desperately again, agony in her voice. “I should have
tried… I didn’t say a word.”
She was fourteen for Christ’s sake.
I vowed once the mother and daughter were dropped off
safely wherever they were going, I would return. Those
men would regret ever laying their eyes on the women.
Luca and I locked gazes. No words were needed, he nodded
and we knew we were coming back.
The mother cried, her own body shaking. She stood up
and buried her face into Callahan’s chest. Fuck that! She
should take care of her daughter, be strong for her. This kid
had been to hell and back; she needed her mother now.
I shot a glare in her direction. Callahan caught it and
there was warning in his eyes. Yes, this fucking man cared
for this woman still. What did he think he would get with
her? She was the prime minister’s wife, for Christ’s sake.
I took a step forward and knelt onto the floor, putting my
hand on the girl’s back. The motion felt unfamiliar, clumsy.
My hand was too big and too rough to offer comfort. I
couldn’t recall the last time I offered it to anyone.
“Listen to me,” I started softly. Hopefully, I was doing
this right. I didn’t want to cause more trauma to the poor
kid. “You have bruises and cuts, but you are going to be
okay,” I told her. “You are strong. Those men are cowards.
They will die.”
Her body stilled, and I could have sworn she held her
breath.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Slowly, she lifted herself and sat on her folded legs. My
hand was still around her. After everything she had been
through, I was scared to let her go.
Her bruised, deep blue eyes met mine, her split lip
trembling as she asked. “Will you kill them?”
I heard her mother’s sharp gasp, but right now, nobody
mattered but this hurt little girl.
“Every single one of them,” I vowed.
One heartbeat passed. “Good.”
Yes, this girl was strong.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter One

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

OceanofPDF.com
 Nine Years Later

F or nine years, it has been one shit show after

another. My friends, my brother, and I have been
focused on building alliances, instilling fear in our enemies,
establishing our territories and names. Luciano, Nico,
Raphael, Alessio, Luca, Alexei, and me.
These men have been by my side every single day for
years. They had my back, and I had theirs. This alliance we
had built was one of the strongest around, and my father
had nothing on this. But we paid a big goddamn price. Nico
lost his sister. Luciano lost his mother and sister. His wife
too. I wasn’t even sure if she was alive, though he was
certain that she was. The whole thing with his wife might
have been his last straw.
Nico, Luciano, Alexei, Luca, and I were all outside the
warehouse in New Jersey, one of Luciano’s docks. We had
seized another shipment of women. Raphael was our inside
guy to the Santos Cartel and the only reason we were able
to intercept the cargo before these women got into Benito’s
clutches. Raphael’s father was a cruel prick, participating
with my father in trafficking women and selling them like
cattle.
It was safer that Raphael was nowhere near this state
when we went after the shipment. So he was currently in
Florida, feigning ignorance, while we tried to figure out
what to do with these women now. They ranged from ages
fourteen to forty. It just fucking churned my stomach.
Our father tainted Luca’s and my last name. Good men
looked down on us when they learned who our father was,
so did the crooks. No matter though; we had good friends.
The kind that endured similar experiences and hardship.
They were our friends for life.
The women thought us heroes for saving them and
killing the men that held them prisoners since they were
captured. We weren’t heroes, just a slightly different
caliber of criminals than human traffickers. The women
didn’t want to go back to their homes, claiming the Santos
would hunt them down and find them. They’d be right back
enroute to whorehouses. There was no guarantee that
Raphael would get a heads up again.
“I could have Sasha take him out,” Alexei said. In
unison, all of us turned to look at him.
“Can you be more specific?” I asked him. “There is a list
of people we want to take out.”
He flipped his blade back and forth, his whole body stoic
besides the blade and his one hand. Alexei could be
unnerving. He wore his ruthlessness on his sleeve. Like a
badge of honor. Combine that with ink on his face and Artic
cold eyes, he gave off psychopath vibes. It didn’t bother
me, because he was loyal. To his family and to his friends.
“The old Santos,” he answered. “Raphael hates the
bastard.” He flicked his knife.
Alexei hated him too. It was his story to tell, but it was
the old Santos who failed his birth mother. It was the old
Nikolaev witch, Vasili’s and Sasha’s mother, who destroyed
Alexei’s life as a boy, and, as if that wasn’t enough, she
ensured Alexei was handed to a fucking monster.
“Won’t Vasili lose his shit?” I questioned him. I hadn’t
met Alexei’s newfound brother yet, but I heard plenty about
him. Nico had a run in with him while his sister attended
Georgetown. Vasili Nikolaev wasn’t a man I wanted as my
enemy. I’d rather form an alliance with him. He ruled New
Orleans and the surrounding area and was quite powerful.
Having him on our side would prove helpful. But he
preferred to run his own show, which was fine. At least he
ensured no smuggling of women happened on his territory.
Alexei shrugged. “Vasili won’t know.” I raised my
eyebrow. “Sasha has wanted to take him out for a while. It
won’t take much to nudge him and get it done.”
“Shouldn’t we at least give a heads up to Raphael?”
Luciano muttered. Raphael deserved that much, though I
wasn’t sure if he despised his father as much as I hated
mine.
“No, you shouldn’t,” Alexei retorted dryly. “Let’s see first
if Sasha even bites. He’s on the crazy side, so you never
know which way he’ll go.”
I shook my head. The crazy was up for debate here. We
all had some of that shit in us. But the moment we started
keeping major secrets from each other, we’d break the
alliance.
“If Vasili gets wind of this, it’ll be a strike against us,”
Nico chimed in. “We can’t have him as our enemy, and if he
gets on Benito’s side-”
“He won’t.” Alexei sounded very certain about that.
“What makes you so sure?” Alexei wasn’t the type of guy
to screw someone over.
“Because he can’t stand the bastard,” he muttered.
“He’d rather cut his dick off than ever side with Benito.” I
could tell by Alexei’s expression he was telling the truth.
With his big, tall frame and those tattoos on his face,
people feared him without even knowing what he had done
in life to survive. I didn’t give a shit about any of it. My past
crimes were right up there with his. But as long as we did it
with some kind of scruples, maybe there was a shred of a
soul left in us that wasn’t completely black.
“If we do this, we do it the right way,” I told Alexei.
 “Agreed. Let me feel out Sasha’s state of mind, and I’ll
get back to you. No need to ruffle feathers if he’ll follow
Vasili’s law.”
Nico shook his head. “How about we put a wager that
the crazy motherfucker jumps and kills him the same
week?”
“I’m game,” Luca spoke for the first time. “I also want to
make a wager that Raphael will kill Sasha and possibly
Cassio if he finds out we started this shit. That’ll be fun.
Gummy bears, popcorn, soda, and a fight to the death.”
Nico snorted immediately. “More like a gundown. Can
we add root beer floats to the snacks?”
“Fuck you two.” I flipped them both the bird. My
younger brother was a fucking pain in my ass sometimes,
and Nico was too smart for his own good.
Luca grinned, like the damn maniac he was, flipping me
the middle finger right back. “Raphael will fuck you up.”
“Okay, you two fuckers,” Luciano broke up our sibling
arguing. “We have to figure out what to do with these
women.” He was right. They were more important now.
Nico shoved his hands into his pockets. “I can have ten
of them situated with Gia’s shelter. There isn’t enough
space for more than ten.”
Nico’s housekeeper, Gia, was a victim of trafficking.
Nico saved her quite a few years back. But she endured
years of some serious shit, and the only way she was finally
able to heal was by helping other women that went through
similar experiences.
“Shit, it would be good if we could put them all with
her,” I muttered. “Keep them together.”
With a pensive look in his eyes, I could practically see
him working it out.
“Maybe we can double them in rooms for a week or so
until we can expand the building,” Nico responded.
He was typing vigorously on his phone.
 “I know you’re good,” Luca scoffed at him. “But
expansion in a week? You’re not that good.”
Nico cocked his eyebrow, a smug look in his face.
“Challenge accepted,” he deadpanned. “What are we
betting?”
“Aren’t you fucking rich enough?” Luca spat back at
him.
“I’m not talking about money,” he drawled.
“Then what do you want?” Luca questioned him. He
better watch out or he’d end up owing his life to Nico.
Nobody matched Nico’s IQ.
“A favor,” Nico responded. “Any favor, at any point of my
life that I want it.”
“Don’t do it,” Luciano warned Luca, sharing an amusing
glance with me. He knew as well as I did if you told Luca
not to do something, my reckless little brother would do it.
“You’re gonna lose.”
“He lost already,” Alexei chimed in, his tone untelling
whether he was amused or not.
“Deal,” Luca announced. Sucker!
Nico grinned like a shark. The two shook hands and
Luca was forever indebted to Nico. A cell phone beeped
and all of us glanced at our phones. It was Nico’s; he got a
reply.
“Okay, Gia will take them,” Nico announced. “I’ll have
my construction team work on building expansion, but until
then, Gia said she can accommodate them.”
“Excellent,” Luca said. “Now, let’s go and celebrate.
Shall we hit your club in the city, Cassio?”
I shook my head at my little brother who wasn’t so little
anymore. He was always up for a celebration, though there
was very little to celebrate lately.
“Temptation?” Nico questioned. “Isn’t there a Halloween
party or something?”
“In fucking August?” Luciano grumbled.
 I shrugged my shoulders. “The event manager is doing
some shit cramming all the year’s events into this month.
Next week it’s a Christmas party.”
Luciano and Nico promptly called the event manager a
moron, rolling their eyes. It didn’t matter whether they
liked it or not; the parties attracted everyone to my clubs
so the event manager was doing something right.
“No Temptation for me,” Alexei’s cold tone interrupted
Luciano’s creative names for my event manager who didn’t
even know he was on the mobster’s name calling roster.
“Yeah, Temptation is too soft for me too,” Luca replied.
“But when Cassio refuses to open something more risqué,
you just have to settle for temptation.”
Alexei calmly flipped him off and we all chuckled.
“Go open your own hard core sex club,” I told Luca. “You
kinky bastard.”
Luca grinned like a fool. “I might. And call it Cassio.”
“And I just might beat your ass,” I warned him
amusingly.
Three hours later, Luciano, Nico, and I strode through
the VIP entrance. Luca was already inside, probably
hooking up with some random chick.
“I’m too old for techno,” Nico muttered begrudgingly.
“You and I both,” Luciano muttered. “I guess Cassio
wants to get his dick wet.”
“And you don’t?” I challenged my best friend. Except for
a small obstacle. Luciano couldn’t stand to look at another
woman. His wife was his vice, though I wasn’t certain
whether it was in a good way or bad way. She had
disappeared and he’d been hunting for her ever since.
We barely made it inside the club when a small body
slammed right into the back of me.
“Oh, shit,” a soft voice murmured. “I’m so sorry.” A light
nudge, a push forward as if she wanted me to hurry up, and
I grunted my displeasure. I didn’t budge because I didn’t
come into my own club to be shoved around by a woman.
“You think you can speed it up, buddy?”
Nico choked a laugh then covered it with a fake ass
cough.
I swiveled around to put the woman in her place when
my eyes connected with deep ocean eyes. Those
unforgettable, stunning blue eyes.
My steps halted and I stopped dead in my tracks, staring
at a girl… No, not a girl. A woman. Jesus, what a woman!
Talk about a man’s wet dream. A beautiful soft body,
fucking centerfold-worthy, and eyes that could take your
breath away.
A soft groan and an eyeroll brought me back to the
situation at hand. A woman dressed in a sexy Wonder
Woman costume stood in front of us, boots and all. Not a
sight you see every day.
“Buddy, I said to speed it up, not slow it down,” she said
exasperated. Luciano chuckled next to me, though he tried
to hold it in. It has been a while since I heard him laugh.
Another soft goan. “Oh, come on,” she mumbled. “At
least move out of the way.”
The three of us, Luciano, Nico, and I, took up the entire
hallway, and she kept shifting left and right, trying to
wiggle her way between us to pass through.
“Are you in a rush, Wonder Woman?” Luciano challenged
with a smirk.
“As a matter of fact,” she snapped, glancing over her
shoulder. “I am.”
Her red mane, colors of the most magnificent sunset,
swished around as she turned. Christ, there was so much of
it. I could practically envision wrapping it around my fist. I
clenched my hands, or risked reaching out to feel whether
it’d feel as soft as it looked.
“Miss, get back over here!” One of my bouncers came
rushing down the hallway. She must have snuck in.
 Her head turned back in the direction she came from,
her hair throwing off a flaming glow each time she moved
her head, even under the dim lights of the hallway.
That hair!
I have only seen that shade of red hair once, and I’d
never forget it. I’d recognize it anywhere. Yet, it was hard
to believe that the girl I saved was here. In front of me. As
a grown woman.
And the most magnificent woman I had ever seen.
She pushed her hand through her hair, slightly tilting
her tiara adorned with a red star.
“Nice tiara,” Nico mocked, in his cold voice.
Her hands came up to it. “Thanks. It is also a weapon,”
she told him, fixing it back straight. “Kills men that annoy
me.”
My lip tugged up. She was no longer a helpless, young
girl. Just as I predicted, she turned out strong. There was
fire beneath all the exterior that matched that incredible
mane of hers. The temptation to see how hot she burned
was strong. And then, I wanted to ignite it into a full blown
inferno.
“Miss,” the bouncer called out again.
“Just go back to your post,” she yelled his way, flinging
her hand to shoo him away and at the same time trying to
get through our three big bodies. The way she was doing it
almost looked like she was trying to avoid brushing against
us.
“Miss.” The bouncer was barely ten feet away by now.
“Umm, I’m with these guys. Right?” Her eyes came up
to me, mischievousness sparkling in them. Áine Evans. She
had grown up, but I’d recognize her anywhere. “Play
along,” she whispered under her breath. “Please.”
Gosh, she could say please in that soft tone and I’d burn
cities for her.
“It’s okay, Alan,” I told my bouncer. He stopped, eyeing
her as if he didn’t believe me and he’d lose his job any
moment. “The lady is with me.”
Surprise flashed in his eyes, but he quickly masked it.
After all, I never brought women to my club. There was
only one place I took them, to my penthouse that I only
used for fucking. I never slept there, nor stayed there. Just
like my brother, relationships weren’t for me. I had a roster
of women I used for release. An honest and simple
agreement was set upfront. Nothing sweet and vanilla. No
lovemaking. Both sides knew what was expected and when
that no longer worked, we parted ways.
“Oh, okay.” He heaved a deep breath of relief. “Why
didn’t you just say so?” he mumbled under his breath,
annoyance flashing in his eyes. “Make me chase you all this
way.” Alan’s eyes came to the three of us. “And the other
girl? The Black Widow girl? She with you too?”
“Yes. Yes, she is,” she answered him, grinning wide and
nodding her head in confirmation. “No need to hunt us. Go
search for someone else.”
Alan’s eyes came to me for confirmation, anxiousness in
his gaze. Jesus, I couldn’t believe after all these years, she
was right here.
“Right?” she asked nervously, sending me a fleeting gaze
as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. I
nodded. I guess the party crashers came in duos. “See,”
she returned her attention to Alan. “No need to fuss.”
Alan grunted something under his breath and then
satisfied that he did his job, went to take his leave.
“Oh, hey Alan,” she called out after him. Alan turned
back around weariness on his face. His one hand came to
the back of his neck as he stared at her again, long and
hard. I should really find Alan a better suited position. He
was a good man but way too serious. “There will be three
guys coming soon. Good looking, Irish brothers.”
Luciano, Nico, and I shared a glance. This was going
unexpectedly.
“Yeah?”
 Even in the dark hallway, I could see her full red lips
curve into a smile. “Don’t let them in. Under any
circumstances.”
“Are they bothering you?” Alan inquired, concern lacing
his voice. He had a protective streak about him, especially
when it came to vulnerable women. It was the reason I
liked him.
She waved her hand. “No, but they are party poopers.”
His eyes came to me again. I nodded in agreement. Then
he shook his head and left us to get back to his job. I let out
a soft laugh as my gaze roamed over her body. This was the
most surprising rendezvous I’ve had in years.
My eyes locked on the woman that nine years ago made
me believe I could make a difference. And since then, with
the friends and alliances we’d forged, we all started
working towards one common goal.
Saving women. Eliminating the men that used and hurt
them.
If I ever wondered whether we made a difference, all I
had to do was remember this girl. She grew up into a
stunning woman. A Wonder Woman, I thought amusingly.
Just like the costume dress that hugged her curves and left
her toned legs on full display.
She was short, five foot five and next to my six-three she
seemed somehow small and delicate, almost fragile. But
underneath it all, there was strength. I could sense it today
even more than nine years ago.
“Thanks for that,” she spoke softly, a smile curving her
full lips.
Her eyes roamed over Luciano and Nico and something
deep within me was agitated that she was even looking at
them. So unusual. I squashed jealousy a long time ago and
found it to be a useless feeling.
Then finally her gaze settled on me. Like it should, only
on me, I thought silently.
 Our eyes locked and the depths of her ocean pools hit
me right in the chest. Just like they did all those years ago.
Her eyebrows furrowed and she tilted her head, studying
my face. There was no recognition in them, just confusion.
“You look familiar,” she uttered in a whisper, almost as if
speaking to herself. “But I never forget a face, so it can’t
be…” Her slim fingers raised and started massaging her
temple.
Did she not remember?
“What’s your name?” I asked her though I knew it. She
wasn’t someone I could ever forget. I was damn sure to
look up her family after she was safely in the hospital all
those years ago.
She shook her head, as if she was trying to clear her
head and a smile came to her lips.
“Diana Prince,” she retorted. Really? She was going all
out with her character, huh?
“Okay, Wonder Woman. Do you have a name outside
your character?”
She chuckled.
“I don’t think so, buddy,” she murmured softly. Buddy?
“My mum always warned me about talking to strangers,
especially the ones that don’t dress up for Halloween
costume parties.”
Nico and Luciano chuckled behind me. Glad they were
amused.
“Áine!” A woman’s voice traveled over and I grinned.
“Jesus, I thought they got you!”
I glanced in the voice’s direction and saw a woman
dressed in Black Widow costume. Margaret Callahan. I
recognized the niece of the head of the Irish mafia.
I guess these two young ladies were going for a
superhero theme.
“And we have your name,” I announced smugly.
Annoyance flashed in Áine’s eyes that her name just got
blasted. My lips curved into a smile. I’d have to thank my
brother Luca for insisting to celebrate nothing in particular,
though he disappeared before we arrived. Tonight had just
gotten better.
Dismissing me, Áine strode around me towards her
friend. “You are the worst accomplice,” she told her. “And
the worst party accomplice. You never leave anyone behind.
Don’t you know the saying, ‘no troll left behind’.”
The reference made no sense to me. I’d have to look it
up. Her cousin’s eyes came over to us and she threw her
head and laughed.
“Seems you managed. And we are not trolls.”
Áine smoothed her little dress, glancing down at herself.
“Let’s go join the party,” Áine announced. “More clubs
should do Halloween in August.” I gave a pointed look to
Nico and Luciano. “The best part,” she beamed. “The boys
won’t be coming into this club.”
They shared a glance then grinned, trouble written all
over their faces. I wondered if Callahan knew his niece and
Áine were crashing my nightclub. Obviously the boys, I
assumed she meant Margaret’s brothers, knew it. There
would be no mistaking that they knew the nightclub,
Temptation, belonged to me. It was the first nightclub I had
ever purchased.
Áine glanced over her shoulder, our eyes connecting.
“Thanks again, buddy!” She winked, then strode away into
my club.
Buddy! Fuck no, I would not be her buddy.
“Hey, buddy,” Nico teased. The two disappeared from
our view, and I was left with Nico’s smirking face. “Sounds
like a dog’s name.”
“Fuck you, Nico,” I muttered. My eyes darted in the
direction Áine had disappeared, and I had half a mind to go
after her.
Luciano must have read the look on my face because he
just shook his head and muttered, “You shouldn’t fuck with
redheads. Trust me, I should know.”
 I hadn’t met Grace, but from what little Luciano had
shared, she was a redhead. He couldn’t stomach them
anymore. He couldn’t stomach any woman anymore.
“I’m guessing you know the woman?” Nico questioned, a
knowing look in his eyes. “Though it doesn’t look like you
left a lasting expression on her.”
Luciano snickered with amusement.
“Fuck you both. I’m gonna get you back for this one of
these days.”
“Not likely,” Nico smirked.
The three of us headed into my office where the music
could be heard, but it wasn’t as loud and the large glass
wall gave us a view of the entire dance floor.
“Why in the fuck did we even come here?” Nico
muttered, throwing himself onto a chair and lifting his legs
onto the table. “Aren’t we a bit too old for this? And where
the fuck is Luca?”
My line of sight was out the one way window watching
the scene on the dance floor. And there was my little
brother, schmoozing on the dance floor, women buzzing
around him like he was goddamn honey.
None of them mattered. Didn’t they realize both my
brother and I were beyond repair? Maybe it was exactly
what the women were looking for. Bad boys with fucked up
pasts that they thought they could save.
I sought out the woman with the flaming hair. It didn’t
take long to spot her. She was dancing with Margaret. They
were laughing, the two acting like they were in their own
world. Having the time of their lives.
Unlike Áine, Margaret’s hair was black as coal but they
had similar color eyes, the striking colors of the Caribbean
waters. Fuck, when Áine’s eyes connected with mine those
ocean glimmers hit me straight in my chest. And I felt
something.
For the first time, in a very long time, I felt something in
my chest. Different from the responsibility for deaths and
suffering my father caused. Different from the hunger for
revenge. Except, I couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
My eyes roamed over Áine’s body, curved and soft in all
the right places. Yet, also strong. The Wonder Woman
costume was a good choice. It suited her. She had grown
up, the traces of the kid I rescued gone. The young girl
from all those years ago had become a strong, confident
woman. It was evident in her every move, her every smile,
her every look.
Something about her tugged at me, and it felt important
that I followed through.
Why doesn’t she remember me at all?
We didn’t spend days together but a traumatic
experience like that you didn’t just forget. She was old
enough to remember it all. After all, kidnapping and going
through an ordeal like that wasn’t something that was
easily forgotten. That single event left an enduring impact
on me.
It stayed with me. It drove me on the days when tearing
down my father’s empire seemed to come at a great cost.
To me, my brother, my friends.
The knowledge that there could be another little girl,
like Áine Evans, waiting for us to right the wrongs my
father had done. Just like we had with this girl nine years
ago. A beaten and bruised little girl had survived and
prevailed. It was the best incentive possible to continue our
work.
My eyes locked on her form, her movements on the
dance floor elegant and sensual. She moved with
confidence, her smile wide and free. A glimpse of her skin
between her boots and ridiculously short Wonder Woman
costume was smooth and pale. Her cherry red hair
attracted the attention of hungry men's eyes and jealousy
stirred in me.
Jealousy.
 The feeling I hadn’t felt since Luca and I were children;
my brother barely a toddler and I barely old enough to
understand how our mother died. The slithering, fickle
feeling that I always hated when seeing others with their
families. I had the urge to claw it out of my body. It made
you hurt; it made you feel all the things you wished you had
but didn’t.
“Are you just going to stare at her?” Nico questioned. I
flipped him a bird. Taunting fucking asshole! “Go ask her
for a dance,” he suggested.
“I don’t need any encouragement,” I snapped, agitated.
It was exactly what I wanted to do, except I wasn’t sure if it
was something I should do. After all, it was my own father
that kidnapped her nine years ago. It was our family’s
legacy, our family’s greed that started a chain of events
that had landed her in that dirty cell in the middle of
nowhere. Where screams and pain were a normal, everyday
occurrence.
Luca and I went back afterwards. We leveled the
compound to the ground after we freed other women and
interrogated the men. Okay, maybe a more adequate term
would be tortured. Either way, not a single soldier survived
to tell the tale. Except for the boy. The state we found
women in made me scared to even imagine what the kid
went through. Some fucked up shit happened in that
hellhole.
My eyes focused on her dancing form, moving on the
dance floor with her dark-haired cousin. The Irish and my
father had been at war for as long as I could remember. But
over the past nine years, the war escalated. My father
couldn’t have even fathomed what he started when he
kidnapped Áine Evans back then.
But after all this time, I had finally decided it was time I
collected my debt.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Two

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

T his man was beautiful; like Adonis but on a badass

level.
Time seemed to grind to a halt and my gaze was frozen
on a set of cold, dark eyes, framed with the thickest lashes
I had ever seen. The sizzling power that surged through
him, ran intense and undefinable; the darkness and
brutality in those dark eyes shaking something inside me.
A memory.
A distant and vague memory that I couldn’t quite hone
in on. It lurked in the shadows of my mind that only
haunted me in my dreams. An odd thumping began in my
chest, in sync with my head. Yet, the usual repulsion at
man’s nearness never came, which was intriguing.
His dark eyes watched me, like he was waiting for
something. As if we knew each other from a very long time
ago. I took in his face and strong jawline with chiseled
cheekbones. He seemed… familiar. Very familiar. A foggy
image flashed in my mind, an extended hand, and I
furrowed my eyebrows.
Tattooed hands. My eyes lowered to his hands. Nothing
on his right hand, but there was ink on his left hand. A
rose, just petals.
 And then the memory was gone, disintegrating into
nothing, much to my frustration. I focused my mind in
search of the memory. It was important, I knew it. Yet,
nothing came. I shook my head in a light frustration and
met his gaze. Who is he?
My temples throbbed as I stared at those intense dark
eyes. It felt like drowning in the dark, threatening waters
with no way of coming up for air. His face was memorable.
If I saw him before, there would be no chance I’d ever
forget it. He studied me as I watched his soulful brown
eyes. Like he knew something I didn’t. It intrigued me,
pulling me into a fog.
Everything faded as I watched him. Yes, there was
something familiar about him that I couldn’t place. I’d
stake my life that I’d met this man a long time ago. I
searched my memory, the puzzle nagging at me. It felt
important that I remember. But the harder I tried to recall
the memory, the worse the throbbing in my head became. I
didn’t realize my fingers were pressing against my temples
until Margaret’s voice pierced through my brain.
“Áine!” Margaret’s voice interrupted my staring and his
lips curved into a lazy smile. “Jesus, I thought they got
you!”
I glanced at Margaret and shook my head in response.
“And we have your name,” the guy covered in tattoos
murmured with satisfaction.
His deep voice sent shivers down my spine. It was most
uncharacteristic for my body to react positively to any man,
yet this one… God, this enigmatic one made me react in a
shockingly visceral way. I could practically taste the air
sizzling and feel my skin heating. It was as thrilling as it
was terrifying. I never, like ever, felt desire for anyone.
His lips curved into a knowing small smile and
annoyance flashed within me at his victorious smirk.
Whatever! I wouldn’t let him ruin my evening. Besides, I’d
be smirking last if Jack Callahan, my stepfather found his
way in here. Then this guy probably wouldn’t come near me
with a ten foot pole. Men were either repulsed by my
connection to the head of the Irish mafia in New York or
intrigued. There was no in-between. Nobody remained
unfazed by it.
I left the dark Adonis with my hand in Margaret’s to
grab some alcohol. For the first time in my life, I fought the
urge to rip a man’s clothes off and have sweaty, rough sex.
I haven’t even started drinking. Even more disturbing, I
never wanted to have sex. Never have had sex. It usually
brought out the most unflattering panic attacks, cold
sweats and an instant, painfully racing heart.
With a small shake to my head, we strode away. Yet each
step away from him caused a deep tug in my stomach. It
was pulling me back in the stranger’s direction. It made no
sense at all. Yes, he was an unusually attractive man. It
would be impossible for any woman not to feel some
fluttering in her stomach - or heart - gazing upon that fine
specimen. But unlike other women, one touch by him, and I
was certain the panic attack would make its annoying
appearance. Despite this strong pull, knowing the panic
attacks I get when touched, I ignored it.
I’ll probably die a virgin, I thought with a heavy sigh.
“You are the worst accomplice,” I told her, rolling my
eyes. Maybe I was slightly cranky because of this clawing
need for the stranger. “And the worst party accomplice. You
never leave anyone behind. Don’t you know the saying, ‘no
troll left behind’.”
Margaret chuckled unperturbed. We both knew she
always had my back, and I always had hers. We were as
close as sisters and trusted each other explicitly.
“Seems you managed,” she scoffed, her eyes traveling
behind us. “And we are not trolls.”
Incorrigible. Margaret was just incorrigible.
“Let’s go enjoy the party,” I told her with a last glimpse
over my shoulder. Just one last look at such a gorgeous
specimen. He still stood in the same spot, his eyes on me.
And there went my heart again, fluttering like a butterfly
caught in a bottle trying to get free. Turning back to
Margaret, I added in a teasing tone, “More clubs should do
Halloween in August. The best part. The boys won’t be
coming into this club.”
I couldn’t resist one last glance over my shoulder, our
eyes connecting. “Thanks again, buddy!” I winked
flirtatiously, shocking myself. I wasn’t the flirty type. More
like the killer type.
Turning my attention to Margaret, we shared a grin and
off we went. We both had responsible jobs and ran an
organization that came with heavy responsibility, but we
also liked to party. After all, we'd only be in our twenties
once.
Rushing over to the bar, we ordered our shots. Downing
one each, we headed onto the crowded dance floor.
We danced, relaxed and happy not to have Margaret’s
brothers hovering over us and pushing all men away. Not
that I wanted any men. Most of the time I hated men being
near me, never mind touching me. Though my earlier
encounter surprised me.
Maybe my body was just waiting for the right guy to
respond to. A rush of excitement shot through me thinking
back to the magnetic stranger. My eyes traveled over the
dance floor, searching him out, but he wasn’t here and
disappointment washed over me.
I had no idea who he was, but somehow, he felt
important. There was something electric about him. Those
tattoos on his neck and his hand would usually turn me
away, but on him, they just fit. Almost like a second skin.
No man had ever commanded my attention but that
one… he was like a dangerous king, capturing all my
awareness and at the same time; he felt familiar.
Comforting. Safe.
Beautiful and ruthless.
 Those were the two words that came to mind to describe
him. The reckless part of me that I never experienced
before wanted to test how far I could go with him before
my body would shut down. Eventually, it would shut down
and that old, familiar panic would claw its way to the
forefront. I had no doubt. But the curiosity in me wanted to
test those lustful waters… only with him.
I glanced next to me and noted Margaret had snuck
away. I had no doubt she’d have something wild to tell me
later. I was a tiny bit jealous of her free spirit. Sometimes I
wanted to be able to just hook up with a man and enjoy the
spur of the moment, passion. Except, with me it always
ended up with a sudden rush of terror.
Lovely! I am every man’s dream.
The music switched and I danced by myself, swaying to
the beat. The familiar tunes of Halsey “Bad At Love” played
and goosebumps crawled over my skin. It was exactly what
I was. Except I didn’t have a boy in Michigan. Or anywhere
else.
Closing my eyes, I let the music wash over me, letting go
of all other thoughts. There was plenty of time for worries,
fears, and insecurities. Right now, I just wanted to dance
and pretend there was nothing wrong with me.
I was Wonder Woman on the dance floor. The costume
wasn’t very practical, but it certainly made me feel badass.
Though nobody wore it as good as Gal Gadot. And sexy. I'd
never felt sexy before.
Hands slipped around my waist, and my heart rate
instantly sped up. It went into overdrive. The familiar smell
and fluttering feeling in my stomach told me who it was. I
didn’t have to turn around to know. Still the cautious part
of me had me glancing down to see ink on the hand
wrapped around me.
Oh my God!
And still no panic. On the contrary, I felt a rush of lust
like someone shot an injection of it into my bloodstream.
 It was wrong; I knew it. I wasn't a one night stand kind
of girl. But when you finally feel something after so many
years of hearing your girlfriends raving about sex, I
couldn’t help but to give into the temptation to be touched
by a stranger.
My body warmed and my heart drummed, feeling his
hard body at my back and his hands on me. A craving
unlike anything I’d felt before rose with powerful intensity
within me. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating.
Maybe I am normal, I thought with excitement. Just my
body was extra, extra selective.
The song switched and Faith Richard’s “Too Good To Be
True” came on. I wanted to see him again, get lost in those
eyes. With bravery I hadn’t felt in a while, I slowly turned
around and met his gaze. Holding my breath, I waited for
my body to react, protest, scream. Nothing!
Just a pleasant hum and tingling warmth all over.
Nothing resembling a panic attack. It was indeed too good
to be true. I exhaled slowly. It felt so good to feel all these
normal emotions.
“Well, well,” I said, smiling and hiding my inexperience
at this. “It’s the guy that doesn’t dress up for a costume
party.”
His beautiful mouth curved into a ghost of a smile and
my thighs clenched. Gees, did my hormones decide to kick
in tonight after years of nothing? No complaints here
though.
Just that little hint of a smile on his handsome face and
every fiber in me jolted, then ignited into something feral
and hot. My visceral reaction to this man shocked me.
“I am dressed up,” he drawled, his voice a deep timbre
that sent shivers down my spine. The woman in me cheered
and rejoiced at this novel reaction. My pussy wanted him.
Oh, my freaking God! There was something in my brain
that chanted mine, mine, mine on repeat.
 “Dressed up as what?” I asked in a slightly breathless
tone.
“As me,” he murmured softly. “Is that not good enough?”
My cheeks instantly heated. He was good enough.
“It certainly is,” I muttered, my eyes lowering down his
body. Oh gosh, I’m being too obvious. The heat of his body
just radiated right through me and into my veins.
My focus returned, seeing his lips curved into a full
blown smile. He studied me with a grin and there was
fluttering low in my stomach. Somehow, I sensed he didn’t
smile a lot, but he should. His dark, brown eyes told of a
hard past. Each time our eyes connected, I got a sense this
man wasn’t a stranger, but I couldn’t quite place him.
Maybe I had one too many shots, though I didn’t feel drunk.
Besides, I felt it earlier too when I first saw him.
His hand slid to the middle of my waist, then reached for
my hands. Our hands clasped for a few heartbeats, then he
brought them around his neck. I held my breath and then
slowly released it, my body still feeling relaxed. I felt
drunk. But not from the shots I consumed. I felt drunk off of
him, and he’d barely started dancing with me. I inhaled his
luscious scent and my insides quivered.
The warmth of his body could easily become an
addiction. I should talk, say something. Yet, I couldn’t find a
single word. Instead, I soaked up this moment like a woman
dying of thirst because I was certain it would end at any
moment. Physical closeness has always been difficult. No
idea why or how, it just didn’t work.
“You know wearing a suit is not a costume, right?” I
blurted out. Wonderful, of all the things to say, I blabbed
the most idiotic one. Even if my body, by some miracle,
didn’t go into panic mode, this man would.
“Sure it is. A businessman,” he replied. I threw my head
back and laughed.
“That is not a costume.” My eyes roamed over his three-
piece Brioni suit again. It fit him like a glove. “Maybe a
mobster?” He raised his eyebrow and gave me a weird
look. “What?” I asked defenseless. “You could go for an Al
Capone look or something.”
The slightest grin lifted the corner of his mouth and my
heart thundered under my ribs. I was wildly attracted to
this man. I didn’t even know his name, but none of it
mattered. It was as if everyone and everything
disappeared, leaving me alone with him and this electricity
that was a novelty to me.
Panic will kick in any second now. It had to; it always
did. I didn’t want it to, but it was inevitable. Maybe I could
touch him before it happened.
I threaded my fingers in the dark strands of his hair,
touching the back of his collar. His hair was softer than I
imagined. I wondered if his lips would be even softer.
A thought flickered in the back of my mind warning me
this man wasn’t soft. Yet, he was thrilling. Exciting. I
wanted to enjoy this moment for as long as I could before
the broken part of me kicked in and rejected the close
proximity of this gorgeous male specimen. I deserved that
much!
He inched his face closer and the air sizzled with
something intense. My breath hitched in my throat and
languid heat rushed through my bloodstream, making my
head feel light.
The air in the club was heavy, the music a distant noise
in my brain as I danced with a man I knew nothing about.
Not even his name. And there was something so enticing
about him, I wanted to hold on to him for as long as I could.
“It’s a good look,” I murmured softly. “You could be a
good mobster.”
Gazing into his soulful eyes, I felt like I could get lost in
them. My heartbeat fluttered and my skin burned like I was
too close to the sun. His hands on me felt good, but I
craved more. It was like my body finally woke up from
years-long slumber and demanded satisfaction.
 The sweet spot between my thighs ached, the attraction
like a drug through my veins. I imagined him slipping that
tattooed hand between my thighs and over my sweet spot.
Would his touch feel good, or would my body betray me? I
wanted to test the waters.
Oh my gosh, my panties were on fire.
I bit into my lower lip, contemplating how to ask him to
take me somewhere and touch me. Normally, I’d break a
man's hand if he tried to touch me, but nobody had ever
stirred a fraction of this sensation. Especially a stranger,
but this man… something about him unraveled me. Shook
me to my core.
His teeth grazed across his lower lip and warmth filled
my stomach. I stared at his mouth, urging him silently to
kiss me. I never kissed strangers. In fact, I rarely even
initiated or returned a kiss when I had a boyfriend. A
platonic boyfriend at best.
I just assumed I was broken and didn't like anything
related to physical closeness.
We stared at each other and everything around us faded
into background noise. He inched closer and my body
buzzed while nervousness vibrated under my skin. The
butterflies in my stomach worked in overdrive, and I held
my breath.
His lips touched mine as “Scars To Your Beautiful” by
Alessia Cara played, and somewhere far in my mind, I
acknowledged it seemed appropriate. I have been bad at
love, scarred somewhere in the depths of my mind that I
couldn’t even grasp or comprehend. Yet, right now, I felt
whole. Perfect. His!
My heart raced so fast, I worried I’d lose my breath. My
knees weakened at the sensations pouring into me, the
press of his lips against mine soft. I rubbed myself against
his hard muscles, our mouths a perfect mold together. Soft
and wet. He slid his tongue inside my mouth and I thought
I’d just turn into a puddle.
 With this stranger’s soft and warm lips on mine, his
scent overpowering me, I was lost. Every inch of my skin
was on fire. For him! His one large hand moved down to my
lower back, heat radiating through the flimsy material of
my costume. His other hand grasped my face, his thumb
under my chin, tilting my face so he could kiss me deeper.
A moan climbed up my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I
heard nothing but the wild beating of my own heart in my
ears. Felt nothing but him. The way he kissed was madness.
It felt like being devoured and savored at the same time.
He tasted of mint, fruit, and alcohol, the oddest but most
intoxicating combination.
I kept waiting for the old ghosts to kick in. Yet nothing.
No panic.
No frozen fear.
Just pure, unadulterated desire.
He captured my top lip between his, kissing me with
possession. Like he knew me; like he had been waiting for
me his entire life.
My heartbeat hammered against my ribcage. His kiss
made me feel alive; made me feel everything.
A tremor ran through me, but I refused to stop the kiss.
Instead, my hands clutched at his nape, unwilling to let go.
Like he was my life raft - difference between life and death
out in the wild storms hovering over the oceans. I pressed
my body harder against his, rubbing against him. All my
reason out the door and instinct kicked in.
His tongue tangled with mine, guiding me, tasting me.
This was new territory for me, yet there was no doubt this
man knew how to kiss. He tasted like sin and heaven. The
best kind of sin that would maybe get me kicked out of
heaven.
The kiss turned rough, a scrape of his teeth against my
bottom lip. My pulse drummed in my ears and fire rushed
through my veins, consuming me. The world felt right with
his mouth on mine, my soft body pressed against his hard
one.
I gripped his hair tighter, pulling him closer. To devour
me. A groan vibrated from deep in his chest and his hands
dug into my hips. Our tongues danced, as our bodies moved
to our own tunes.
I felt consumed. Complete. Right.
Nothing had ever felt so right. He tasted so good. My
breathing was erratic, my brain in a lust infused fog and
between my thighs pulsed the gnawing ache that I knew he
could satisfy.
My fingernails scraped against his scalp, needing him
closer. I was desperate for more of this. For everything. His
tongue tangled with mine; our kiss was starved. Maybe he
feels everything I do, I pondered. There was no other way
to explain it. He was consuming me in an unfamiliar way
that felt so right. A shiver rolled through me, the throbbing
ache between my thighs demanding to be sated.
He nipped my bottom lip and pulled back. My eyes
snapped to him, ready to beg him not to stop. I was twenty-
three and had never felt anything like this before. This kiss
was everything.
“Come with me,” he rasped. He could be Lucifer
dragging me to hell. I didn’t care; I’d follow him willingly.
His hand took mine, his palms rough against my soft
skin. He led me to a hallway where we met earlier. People
were dancing, laughing, but none of it registered as I
followed him down the hallway and up the stairs. The only
thing I was aware of was him.
We entered a room that looked like an office. It smelled
like him, scotch and his expensive cologne. My eyes
roamed over the luxurious but simple office.
His lips ran up my neck, pressing my body against the
door.
“I’m going to lock the door so nobody surprises us.” A
heartbeat of silence. “Is that okay?”
 This kind of scenario was what I preached to my cousins
and friends. Yet, here I was nodding my head in agreement.
But God, he felt so good. I had to seize this opportunity
when my body wasn’t revolting at a man’s touch.
“Yes,” I breathed out.
The lock clicked, and for a moment, we stared at each
other. As if he was giving me a chance to change my mind.
To protest.
I took a breath in and released it slowly. I wanted him,
there wasn’t an ounce of doubt about it. My body didn’t
freak out, neither did my heart. What was it about him that
made my heart drum so hard and my body hum with desire,
yet made me feel safe? His presence alone chased away the
dark shadows lurking in my mind to a dark, faraway corner
where they no longer mattered.
He studied me with an intensity that matched my own.
But he waited for me to make the final move. His eyes were
on me, the hunger in them matching my own, telling me he
felt this sizzling attraction too. Yet, he waited. For me.
Three heartbeats. And my mind was made up. I couldn’t
resist him. I reached out and thread my fingers through his
dark waves and pressed my lips to his.
A soft groan left his throat before he grabbed me by the
back of my neck and took charge. I knew he would. He
kissed me hard, taking ownership of my mouth. It is his, a
thought echoed in my mind. It has been his for a long time.
We kissed wild and rough, wet and messy. His tongue
moved hard and fast, twirling with mine, owning me. It was
perfect. I wanted him to keep kissing me, touching me.
Whatever this was… I wanted more of it. His tongue licked
every inch of my mouth, as if he wanted to taste every
corner of it. His heat was wild and hot, engulfing me. His
hands roamed my body, and at this moment, I was grateful
the Wonder Woman costume was so skimpy. It allowed me
to feel his touch on my skin, sending sparks straight to my
core.
 I melted into his embrace, his hands burning my skin in
the best way possible. I should blush at what I was doing
with a stranger, but I didn’t care. It was my proof that I
wasn’t made of ice, that I wasn’t broken.
I was starved for a man’s touch. This man’s touch. His
hands came down to my breasts and palmed them through
the flimsy material. A soft whimper escaped my lips and my
back arched into his touch.
“Please,” I breathed against his lips. Is this it? No
wonder all my girlfriends and Margaret fussed over sex so
much. I haven’t gotten to that part yet, and I was delirious.
My lower belly clenched with need and the pulse
between my thighs ached, begging for release. As if he
knew my body better than I did, his hands slipped under
my dress and pulled my panties down my legs. I stepped
out of them and then he lifted me and sat my ass against a
desk.
I placed my palms down on the desk to steady myself
and his mouth clashed against mine again. Another moan
vibrated from my throat and he swallowed it. Our tongues
danced together like we’d done this a million times before.
The fire that blazed within me was set to burn me into
ashes.
His mouth moved down, trailing kisses down my neck
and nipping at my skin. It was as if he was marking me. My
head tilted back and my eyes fluttered shut, relishing in
this foreign, yet addictive sensation.
My entire body was on the verge of exploding. Languid
heat rushed through my veins, a delightful shiver running
down my spine. He spread my thighs open and the stubble
scratched the soft skin there. My eyes shot open with the
realization of what he was about to do. I licked my lips, my
breathing labored as I watched him inch closer and closer
to my sweet spot. Yet, no panic.
Our gazes locked, his tongue trailing a path closer and
closer to my entrance. I swallowed hard and held my
breath as my heart drummed in my ears.
He pushed my thighs further apart with his rough
palms, and I watched with wide eyes. Waiting. Anticipating.
Wanting.
His eyes lowered to my exposed thighs. His burning
gaze caressed my clit without even touching it.
The ball of anticipation in my stomach coiled as I
watched his gaze flicker back to me. Something raw and
undiluted lurked in his dark eyes, spreading a thrilling rush
through me.
“Fuck. You’re mine.” That was all he said before his
mouth closed over my pussy. Am I his? The words rang
true. Maybe nothing ever worked with other men because
there was no room for anyone but him. In my heart, I’ve
been waiting for him. My body waited for him.
I shuddered under the first, hot touch of his tongue. I
couldn’t even contemplate his words further as a rush of
pleasure flooded me and my head fell back. He took a slow,
savoring lap from the entrance to my clit. It was the first
intimate touch by a man, and it was better than I could
have ever imagined it.
A loud moan slipped through my lips when he swirled
his tongue over my clit before sucking it. His tongue
worked me mercilessly, and I was so close to falling apart.
Nothing had ever felt as good as this.
His tongue pushed into my entrance and a rough,
throaty sound escaped me. He slipped one finger inside me
and pleasure shot through me, burning through my
bloodstream. On instinct, I tried to rock my hips, needing
the friction to come undone.
“Butterfly, you are tight,” he murmured in a hoarse
voice. The nickname pierced through my lust infused fog,
but then his fingers started thrusting in and out of me, and
everything faded. I could only chase this sensation he was
giving me.
“Oh my God,” I breathed hard. “P-please. Oh my God.”
 His mouth licked and sucked on my clit, while his fingers
moved in and out of me, taking his time, like I was his most
savored dessert. Every so often he made deep noises of
satisfaction that shot something hot through every fiber of
me. He fingered me faster and harder, his laps steady as his
dark eyes found mine. Our eyes locked, incoherent words
slipped through my lips as the flame within me grew hotter,
threatening to send me spiraling into an abyss.
He curled his fingers inside me, hitting the spot then
one word left his mouth.
“Come,” he ordered and pleasure exploded through my
veins, like fire fed by gasoline. A languid heat spread
through my body as I pulsed around his fingers, while he
continued to slowly move them in and out until my shivers
subsided.
His hands skimmed from my waist to my hip then to my
inner thighs, his palm rough and hot. A burning caress.
Heat curled in my lower stomach and my pulse raced as we
locked our gazes.
“That was my first orgasm with a man.” His eyes
flickered with surprise at my admission. Truthfully, I was
surprised I said it out loud. Orgasms must be truth serums.
The words slipped through my lips before I thought better
of it. Though I didn’t regret it. It was amazing, and I
wanted more.
He stood up to his full length and clashed his mouth on
mine for the briefest second, letting me taste myself on his
tongue.
He broke the kiss too quickly.
“It won’t be the last,” he promised.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Three

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

H er first orgasm.
I owned her first orgasm. Possession and
something else shot through my veins. She had invaded the
space in my heart a long time ago. She was the reason Luca
and I kept going.
She was the reason I didn’t give up when I was tired.
She was the reason I didn’t give up when I was beaten. I’d
hear her words. Will you kill them all? And I’d keep going.
My little butterfly.
She had grown up. Matured. She had become a woman
in the flesh who tempted me. Yet, I sensed something
within her. Every so often, I could sense her tensing as if
she expected something to happen, but it was gone just as
fast. She’d relax, melt into me, and everything disappeared.
Mine.
She was mine. I had kissed her and the world would
never be the same again. I let go of that battered little girl I
saved all those years ago and kissed a woman. A warrior
queen. She was a fighter because only a strong fighter
survived the ordeal she had been through.
True, she didn’t remember me. She was old enough to
recall those memories, but somehow, she had buried them
all away. I wouldn’t make her dig them out. I’d remember
that horror for both of us. It was a small mercy for her to
have forgotten all that.
I might have saved her from that hellhole, but
unknowingly, she also saved me all those years ago.
She had made something inside me shift and restart.
She gave me purpose when I couldn’t find one. Even after
Grandfather saved us from our own father, made us strong,
both Luca and I struggled to find purpose. We didn’t belong
among normal people. And we sure as hell didn’t belong in
my father’s world.
That day, amidst the heat, blood, and terror, Áine had
given me purpose. A reason to keep fighting my father and
hit him where it hurt him the most. But most importantly, to
save women and girls like her.
That day nine years ago was a turning point in my life.
Yet again, I found myself at another turning point. Once
more, because of her.
A knock came at the door. Both Áine and I ignored it. A
second later, the knock turned into a full blown banging.
“Áine, are you in there?” A slightly slurred speech
traveled through the door. It had to be her cousin, from the
sounds of it she was drunk, and I silently cursed. I wanted
to give Áine a second and third orgasm. All her orgasms. I
wasn’t ready for this night to end.
“Friend of yours?” I asked her, though I knew. She
looked beautiful. Her cheeks flushed from desire, her ocean
blue eyes glimmering like oceans under the bright sun. She
was easily the most intoxicating woman.
Áine smoothed her dress down then slid off the desk
before pulling her panties back on. Her hair was wild and
messy. I loved seeing her like this. Relaxed, unguarded, and
pleasured. I couldn’t resist running my hands through her
fiery red hair, tangling my fingers in her strands. It was so
soft, like the softest feather.
A sheepish smile appeared on her face. I kept forgetting
how young she was. Maybe too young for me. Though there
was nothing on this planet that would make me give her up.
Mine.
“Yeah, she’s my friend.” She rolled her eyes with a soft
smile tugging at her lips. “She can be loud sometimes,” she
added playfully, her voice melodious.
“Áine, I hear your voice,” Margaret Callahan banged on
the door like a madwoman. “Jack and my brothers are
here.”
All playfulness drained from Áine’s face.
“Oh shit,” she mumbled and strode to the door. Once she
opened it, she glanced over her shoulder and our eyes met.
Each time our gazes connected, her ocean blue eyes
shattered me inside. Forget bullets, her one look hit me
harder and deeper. And you didn’t need a Caribbean
vacation, you could just get lost in her shimmering gaze
and feel like you were in a tropical heaven. “I- I can come
back if-”
She wouldn’t need to come back because I would come
after her. Nonetheless, I nodded.
“Take a right and straight to the back, there are side
stairs to the back entrance. I’ll see if I can distract them.”
A wide grin spread across her face. “Thank you. Don’t
get in trouble with them though. Okay?”
I was a killer and she worried about me with her family.
I wondered if it would be the case if she knew my identity.
Yes, Jack kept her away from the underworld but there was
no way that she remained oblivious to it. And the King
name was not a favored name in most households.
“Let’s go,” Margaret pulled her away, slightly stumbling,
and Áine disappeared from my view.
Somehow, I’d already missed her. I was far from done
with her. My self-restraint was pulled taut, and it hung by a
thread. I wanted to go after her, finish what we started. My
cock was rock hard for her.
Yet, somehow, I knew we wouldn’t have finished it
tonight even without interruption.
 Call it intuition. Whatever you will. But deep down,
although Áine might have wanted this, she wasn’t ready. I
was prepared to spend the night with a hard on from the
moment I spotted her. Though tonight turned out much
better than I’d anticipated.
I buttoned up my suit jacket and straightened my
sleeves, then pushed my hand through my hair. I could still
smell Áine’s faint perfume on me and in the air around me,
taste her on my tongue. It was best Jack didn’t come in
here.
I strode out of the office. With a quick glance to the
right, I saw the women were gone. They couldn’t have
taken a detour and gotten lost. It was the same route Nico
and Luciano took earlier in the evening. Both left shortly
after we arrived. Luciano didn’t have the stomach for these
kinds of places since his wife’s disappearance, and Nico
was chasing some leads or something. The man was always
working, but maybe it was the only thing that kept him
sane since his sister’s death.
I gave them both some bullshit excuse that I’d stay and
go through the financial books. Neither one of them bought
the story, leaving me with knowing smirks. Whatever. They
didn’t know crap.
I was almost at the end of the hallway when I spotted
them. The Irish. I’d admit, sometimes they were too loud
and too wild. It could be aggravating as fuck. But Jack
Callahan was a good man and his nephews, while young
and slightly on the wild side, were good men too. If only
they weren’t impulsive.
“Jack,” I greeted him, feigning surprise to see him. “I
didn’t think nightclubs were your scene.”
“They bloody are not,” he grunted. “But Margaret and
my step-daughter are here. And they told your bouncer at
the door not to let us in. They need guards.”
He was clearly displeased. And worried. I’d imagine he
was always worried about them. Especially Áine Evans. He
thought nobody knew his secret, though it seemed clear as
day.
“Your nephews are more than welcome to go check out
the area,” I offered. “I’m on my way out, but stay as long as
you like.”
He shared a look with his nephews, a clear order to go
get the women. The three men strode away without a word,
then split up. It would be a moot cause, but no need to give
them a heads up on that.
“Cassio, can I have a word?” Jack asked, his eyes on me.
The same ocean blue eyes as Áine’s, his daughter, except
hers were stunningly beautiful. Jack’s were just… well,
average. Those blue eyes were a trademark of the
Callahans; it amazed me that nobody saw it as clearly as I
did. Áine Evans was Jack Callahan’s biological daughter,
though he kept it a secret from the world, including his
own family.
“Sure,” I said. “Do you mind if we walk and talk?”
I certainly wouldn’t take him into my office. I’d keep that
off limits for a while. Besides, I was certain he’d get a whiff
of sex and Áine’s perfume. And Callahan’s temper was well
known.
The moment we stepped out, the cool air hit us. August
nights in New York city could be hot as hell, but today was
uncharacteristically chillier and I wondered if Áine had a
jacket. I’d hate for her to get sick; that costume of hers
wouldn’t provide any heat.
Great! I was becoming like an old aunt nagging her
ward to dress warm.
“Cassio, I have to admit, I expected you to name and
claim your debt by now,” Jack started. I knew he wouldn’t
beat around the bush. And I knew he hated being in my
debt. Truthfully, until tonight, I couldn’t have cared less if
he ever paid it. But now… there was something, rather
someone, I wanted. And I knew he was the ticket to getting
her. The debt he owed me would be paid and she was the
only one that could settle it.
“Why so eager to pay up?” I asked him casually.
He grunted and the head of the Irish actually rolled his
eyes. Áine must be rubbing off on him. I’ve seen her roll
her eyes quite a few times tonight when we first ran into
each other.
“I don’t want that debt hanging over me.”
It made sense. I wouldn’t either.
“You came to me, Callahan,” I reminded him. “You
pledged anything, as long as I did that one job for you.”
He should have been careful in offering up anything I
wanted for a rescue. But then I suspected he wasn’t in the
right frame of mind. If I had to guess, it was shortly before
he came to me that he found out about his daughter.
“And I stand by my word,” he grumbled.
“I’m curious though,” I retorted dryly. “What made you
so sure I wouldn’t betray you to Benito?”
I watched emotions flicker over his aged face. He was
the same age as Benito. While my father’s way of life took a
toll on him, it hadn’t on Callahan. Jack’s clear blue eyes
were sharp and his silver hair evidence of wisdom years of
ruling the Irish brought him. Of course, Jack didn’t torture
little girls and women either.
“The fact that you don’t think of Benito as your father,”
he replied, surprising me. “And I had a contingency plan if
you betrayed me. I gambled, but not reaching out would
have been a bigger gamble. I wasn’t willing to let my pride
cost Áine her life.”
Callahan was a much better man than Benito would ever
be.
My driver pulled in front of me. He had been waiting on
the corner, knowing I never stayed around long here. This
might have been my longest visit to my nightclub ever.
“How is Áine?” I asked him instead. I could feel him
eying me suspiciously. I opened the car door. “Want a ride
home?”
The suspicion lingered on his face, and I was almost
tempted to roll my own eyes. “If I wanted you dead, Jack,
you’d already be dead. You are no good to me dead so don’t
fret.”
“Fine,” he grumbled and typed a quick message on his
phone. Probably notifying someone he was hitching a ride
with me. In case he turned up dead and all that.
He slid into the seat and I followed suit. The driver put
the car into drive and took off. I knew Jack didn’t forget my
first question, but I wouldn’t ask him again. He might have
a bad temper, but he wasn’t stupid.
“Áine is good,” he finally answered. “Moving from
London was a bit hard on the girl, but she came through.” I
nodded. Her mother married Callahan a year after the
prime minister was murdered. By my own father. But only a
handful of people knew that, including Luca, Nico, and I.
The prime minister was murdered the same year we saved
Áine from the human traffickers. Afterwards, Áine and her
mother moved to the States and lived with Callahan in New
York under his protection. You’d think across the ocean
would have been safer. Except that aligning with a worthy
opponent, like the head of the Irish mafia, was safer in this
instance.
She had been so close, but strangely our paths never
crossed until now.
“About the debt I owe you,” he started, swiftly changing
subjects. Or maybe not so swiftly since my mind was
already made up. I slid open my phone, reading a message
from Luciano. “I am open to offering up territory, payment,
or a marriage alliance.”
Bingo!
I kept my eyes on the phone and my expression
unmoving. “To Áine Evans?” I asked casually, as if
surprised.
 There was no need for Jack’s next words. I knew the
answer before he opened his mouth. His whole body
tensed, and I could see it from the peripheral, his face
turned blood red from rage.
“Áine isn’t part of any deals,” he gritted out. I flicked my
eyes up and cocked my eyebrow. “And she never will be.
She has no connection to the mafia, with the exception of
being my step-daughter.”
Interesting. He was willing to deny their blood relation
to spare her.
Callahan kept her away from all his business associates
and events. She finished high school here in the States,
under the protection of Callahan and his men. Then she
went off to college to study architecture. In our world, he
kept her life as normal as possible.
“Maybe that’s exactly what our world needs,” I told him
casually. “More humanity that comes from people outside
the underworld. They have a better gauge for right and
wrong, you know.” I thought Callahan would get a brain
seizure; I could practically feel his anger boiling and
steaming up the car. The bastard in me couldn’t resist
taunting him a bit. “Besides, let’s not forget you
approached me and offered me any debt. Your exact words
were you’d give me anything I wanted.”
He knew his mistake. You never offer anything to sinners
like us.
“No sane man would ever let any innocent into our
world,” he gritted out. “She has suffered enough. I’d rather
have war than let her get mixed into this shit.”
And there it was. A declaration of war.
When I remained quiet, he continued, “Áine Evans will
never be on the table for anyone in our world or our
position.” We’ll see. “But you can have Margaret.” Hard
pass.
I returned my gaze to my phone and shrugged my
shoulders. “I’ll think about it.”
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Four

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

OceanofPDF.com
 Two Years Later

T wo fucking years.
It took two years to get everything lined up.
Make my father weaker. Set in motion a plan that would
ensure Áine became my wife. Not wild Margaret Callahan.
It had been two years since I’d touched that fiery red
haired woman, and it was enough to drive a saint crazy.
And I was by no means a saint, but I was a patient man.
“I’ll depend on you to coordinate the wedding,” I
announced through the speaker. I sat in my office, in
Nonno’s home in Sicily. My home. It was the only place
Luca and I considered home. The villa was wired using the
best technology, thanks to Nico. “Keep the knowledge of
the arrangement between the two of us to a minimum. Only
people that you trust. I don’t need a war with my father to
start just yet.”
Except, the war with my father had been brewing for as
long as I could remember. I was slowly crumbling his
empire, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He attacked
Luciano’s wife, but he lost. He attacked our shipments and
lost those battles too. But knowing that I aligned with the
Irish would have my dear old dad go on a damn murder
rampage. And nobody needed the New York City streets
running red.
 “You can count on my wife,” Jack Callahan announced.
“She knows how to do it.”
“Excellent,” I told him. “Nico will be our go-between for
now, to ensure this remains under the radar.”
Nico Morrelli had been one of my closest friends for a
very long time. While I’ve known Luciano since we were
kids, Luca and I often sought refuge in Luciano’s father’s
home when my father wanted to beat us black and blue,
Nico I met in college. Nico saved my life when my father
sent an assassin to end it.
It was ‘don’t ask how I get my information, and I’ll
always give you fair warning’ with Nico. I took him up on it
because I knew right away he’d be a worthy man to keep
on my side.
It was only thanks to Nico that Luca’s and my identity
had been kept out of any digital footprint. Nico had a tech
company that controlled information and images on every
possible web database. People might know our names, but
they didn’t know our faces. It allowed for easier movement
among different social circles.
Luciano and Nico were one of my first formal alliances.
Both men were brilliant and trustworthy. Nico’s father
wasn’t worth a crap, but Nico knew that already. It was the
reason he basically overthrew the old man and took charge
of all his father’s territory.
The call ended and I leaned back into the chair, my eyes
roaming the scenic tree lines of lemon and orange groves.
The mountains stretched in the distance and the scent of
the sea and citrus drifted through the air. It was the only
place I felt at peace. Right here.
It was the complete opposite of the New York City
skyline. Regardless, none of it meant a damn thing, not
without having someone by my side. Nonno’s words that
he’d uttered so many times before finally made sense.
Without a woman to share your happiness and sorrows
with, all your sacrifices will be for naught.
 I had found the woman to share it all with, except I had
to connive and cheat to get her. Seemed to be the legacy of
the King family. No matter how much I fought it, my
father’s blood was still part of me.
What was Áine Evans doing at this very moment?
Getting lost in her architectural drawings? Partying with
Margaret? Or my least favorite - hanging out with her
boyfriend? I have had her watched and stalked over the
past two years. I knew everything there was about her - her
favorite store to shop at, her favorite color, her favorite
food. Nico dug up information on her from her college
years. Imagine our surprise when we learned she actually
interned at Nico’s company for a few months. Right in D.C.!
But even if our paths crossed, she was too young back then.
She also traveled a lot, for business and personal, with
Margaret, which was perfect since it kept her away from
her boyfriend. Those two didn’t spend much time together.
Again perfect. But the idea of anyone else kissing her
fucking burned me on the inside. I had to play my cards
right or risk losing it all.
Boyfriend, I scoffed to myself. I haven’t had a woman
since our nightclub rendezvous. I finally understood
Luciano’s obsession over the last three years. Though, I’d
like to think I was a lot more rational in my obsession than
my best friend.
I often wondered whether it would have just been easier
to kidnap and marry Áine, instead of all this. But I couldn’t
risk having the Irish as my enemy. Not now, when we were
so close to ending my father and Marco.
“There you are,” Luca announced his presence, as he
strode towards me from the terrace. “Nonno is looking for
you.”
My little brother looked more at peace here too. Less
tension, no need to look over our shoulders. My
grandfather ran the mafia in Sicily. Right alongside
Luciano’s ancestors. Unlike my father, Nonno never got
greedy and he was fine staying and ruling right here.
Benito wanted the world. The greedy bastard wanted free
movement across any territory so he could traffic women
and anything else he wanted.
It wouldn’t be for much longer though. Things were
wrapping up.
I stood up and rounded the desk. Nonno insisted when I
set up this office that my chair faced the French windows.
So I could see the light, he said. Of course, he was right. It
gave me perspective, reminded me of how fickle life could
be. The sun could turn into rain in the blink of an eye; just
as life could turn to death.
“Is he in the garden?” I asked him.
“Of course. Where else?”
When I got to Nonno’s garden, I found him seated on the
stone bench. It was his favorite spot. He’d watch over his
garden and sometimes gaze out into the azure sea, thinking
of the good old days. Before he sent his only daughter to
New York. His only conflict with those thoughts were Luca
and I. If he had never sent her, we wouldn’t be here.
Though sometimes I had to wonder if that wouldn’t have
been better. For my mother. For Nonno.
“Nonno,” I greeted him in a low voice. I didn’t want to
startle him.
His head turned my way and a smile spread across his
face. You could see his soul through his dark eyes and just
like I remembered from my mother, it was a gentle one. He
might have run the mafia, but he kept his humanity.
“Ah, Cassio. Sit with me,” he offered. I took the seat next
to him, my body making him appear even more frail.
Comfortable silence filled the space between us, mixing
with the sounds of the sea in the distance and the breeze in
the trees.
“I want to see you married, Nipote.” Grandson. His voice
was firm. “Before my time on this earth is over, I want to
see you and Luca happily married.”
 I laughed. Not because it was far-fetched, but because
both of us wanted it too. Luca might not have accepted it
yet. I had the moment I saw Áine two years ago. But it was
a delicate matter.
Nonno narrowed his eyes on me. “Marriage and love are
not laughable matters, Cassio.”
I looked away, unsure if I could promise him something I
couldn’t control. I was fully aware the manipulation I had in
the works could backfire.
“I’m working on it, Nonno,” I admitted. “There is a
woman, but it is not that simple.”
He met my eyes, searching out the truth in them. I held
his gaze. In some aspects, his eyes were as dark as mine,
but I knew without a doubt I had Benito’s eye color.
“Who is she?” he asked.
“A girl I rescued a long time ago,” I told him. “Benito
had her tortured.” Nonno slammed his foot down, the
strength surprising me. I hoped we’d get at least a few
more years from him. He was approaching his late eighties,
but his health was good. Mediterranean sun and diet, he’d
say. “We crossed paths. She’s the one,” I added. I didn’t
want to waste my breath on Benito or Marco.
Suddenly, he grinned, a wrinkled smile evidence of his
long life and reaching out, patted my hand. “It took me one
second to realize your Nonna was mine too.”
His eyes traveled over to the sea again and I knew he
was thinking of her. “Bene,” he murmured as if everything
was settled to his wishes. “We will have a wedding.”
And that concluded that topic.

“C assio , are you sure you know what you are doing ?”
Nico’s question was valid, considering he knew my plans. It
had been a week since my conversation with Nonno, and
Nico just got married. It didn’t prevent him from
questioning me on his wedding day though. That man
always kept his reason. Except around Bianca. “If Callahan
gets a whiff of your deceit, he’ll go into full attack mode.”
He was right; of course he was right. I hated lying but
the options were limited. Therefore, I intended to use
Margaret Callahan as a decoy bride, set her up to fail, and
then force Callahan to give me Áine. If it didn’t work, I’d
steal her. Easy, right?
Back to my friend’s question though. Did I know what I
was doing?
Well, not exactly. It wasn’t as if I schemed to set a trap
for my future bride very often. Or ever!
My eyes traveled over the view of the vast Chesapeake
Bay. The sun reflected over the flat surface of the water,
smooth as a glass. It glittered across, the shadows of lights
dancing on the surface.
The house was a security nightmare, but the views were
amazing. No wonder Nico’s wife was in love with her
house. Though it didn’t take a genius to know she and her
twin girls wouldn’t be staying here. Nico and I were
currently in a small room that was set up as an office, but
from the looks of it, it was barely used. Nico had hacked
into Jack’s system and sent me all the wedding plans that
would be happening in the near future.
Luciano kicked off a trend three years ago when he
married. It just took a bit for the rest of us to follow. After
all, we were in our forties, hardly as young and green as we
used to be.
My attention returned to my friend. It was Nico’s
wedding day. He trapped himself a wife successfully. That
made two married men in our group now, three with Vasili.
Maybe I should ask Nico to help me out? I wouldn’t be
surprised if he had been planning this for a while. Though
he held his cards close, making me wonder what he was
hiding. Not that Nico’s love life was any of my business,
just as mine was none of his.
“Yeah, I know what I’m doing,” I finally answered him.
“Just like you know what you are doing with Bianca
Carter.”
“Morrelli,” he corrected me in an agitated voice. “Bianca
Morrelli.”
I chuckled. Nico had it bad for the dark-haired woman.
At first impression, I thought Nico got himself a meek little
woman, but it took Bianca all of fifteen minutes to dissuade
me of that impression. Yeah, she was soft, but also fierce. I
was certain she’d give Nico a run for his money. She
wouldn’t take any shit from him. And whether Nico wanted
to admit it or not, he was crazy about his new wife.
“My bad, Bianca Morrelli,” I retorted, chuckling. He
gave me a dark expression. It was kind of comical seeing
the cold, calculating Wolf being rattled by a mere woman. A
short and soft homemaker at that. Nothing against
homemakers, but you wouldn’t think Nico would be
brought to his knees by one. Made me like Bianca even
more.
“Stop being an ass, and tell me you have everything set
up for Las Vegas,” Nico grumbled. “Margaret Callahan has
already started arranging wild parties, including a visit to a
running Chippendales review, so getting that one
sidetracked shouldn’t be too difficult.”
Margaret has been known for her wild ways and wild
parties. I didn’t care for either, but her and Áine were close
so I’d accept her, as long as she didn't drag my future wife
into her clusterfucks. And my soon-to-be bride would
certainly not attend Chippendales. That party would be
canceled at the last minute, due to unforeseen events.
“Everything has been set up,” I told him. Things were
finally in motion. I had been patient for a long time, but
now that I was close to the finish line, I was eager to cross
it. I just couldn’t afford to make a mistake.
 The door to the office swung open and Lorenzo, Nico’s
right hand man, burst in.
“Benito fucking King is here.”
Nico and I shared a glance. There was no surprise in his
expression, he must have anticipated the visit. Unbuttoning
his jacket so he could have easy access to his gun, we
headed for the door.
Hopefully, this wouldn’t turn into a bloody wedding.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Five

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

OceanofPDF.com
 Five months later

C lusterfuck.
And to think I’d worried about Margaret Callahan’s
clusterfuck. I had more than plenty of my own to clean up.
The entire underworld was in havoc after Benito’s death. It
had been five months since he had kidnapped Bianca.
March was right around the corner and with it a hope for
new beginnings. Luciano had a new baby on the way. I
wouldn’t be surprised if Nico and my sister announced a
surprise soon. Though as far as those two were concerned,
the stork was bringing that little bundle of joy.
But unless we handle Marco and bury him six feet under,
the threat would always be there. That little weasel of my
half-brother was no better than our father. He was drunk
on power, and without Benito to control him, he was all
over the place. Marco had suddenly gone wild. He thought
of himself better than everyone else and ready to conquer
the world. He was too dumb to see that the power was
slipping through his hands and other mafia families already
started sideline wars, unconcerned with innocent
casualties.
Bianca, my sister, killed our father. Half-sister who I
never knew existed. I was so damn proud of her, and to
think I had thought her meek when I first met her. Not by a
long shot. She was strong in her own way, protecting the
ones she held dear.
Of course, that wasn’t the official story. My sister killed
our father, but it was Luca that claimed it. For her
protection. Nico was willing to take the blame. After all, he
had reasons of his own to want him dead, but we all
agreed. We didn’t want it touching Bianca, and for her and
the twin’s protection, we’d keep it away from her and her
family. She shouldn’t be pulled into all this shit. Luca
insisted he should claim the responsibility. His reasons
made sense, but it didn’t sit well with me. My brother was
the man I grew up protecting, not offering him as a
sacrificial lamb.
Yet, I begrudgingly agreed. For Bianca. She was a mess
when all the events of the day finally sunk in. It was gut
wrenching to watch our sister break apart at her mother’s
funeral. She just got her mother back, only to lose her all
over again.
Luca and I had fallen for our sister’s charms, the need to
protect her from this cruel world we grew up in driving us
forward. It was what drove all of us - Luciano, Nico, Luca,
Vasili, and myself… we wanted a chance to have a family. In
order to protect them though, we had to eliminate Marco
and destroy the King's legacy of trafficking.
That legacy destroyed so many families, including my
own mother.
Father’s laugh traveled through the house - loud,
obnoxious, and mocking. I was too young to understand
everything, but I already knew he was cruel. Evil. Mamma
liked to watch Disney movies, and I’d sit through it with
her. I was too old for them, but she loved them, so I’d keep
her happy.
But in those movies, I always saw my father in the
villains. The evil queen in Snow White. The evil stepmother
in Cinderella. The evil witch in The Little Mermaid. Of
course, Benito was evil on a whole new level, but it would
take me a few more years to learn that.
An eight year old’s heart certainly didn’t know any
better.
The sounds of glassware crashing and a gunshot echoed
through the large mansion. It sounded like it came from the
inside. Benito hated anyone firing off inside. He preferred
all the mess outside. He always bellowed, “Inside is for
fucking, and outside for shooting.”
But the gunshot came from the direction of Mamma’s
room. So I ran fast and hard, taking two steps at a time up
the marble foyer to get to the second floor and then down
the hallway, towards Mamma’s room.
Each step closer to her room had my heart beating
harder and faster. It felt like my chest would explode. Her
bedroom door was closed. She always told me never to go
into her room when the door was closed. Yet, an invisible
force was pushing me. Ignoring the hard rule, the only hard
rule she imposed on me, I swung the door open to find her
room empty.
Yet, I sensed that it wasn’t.
Holding my breath, my eyes frantically searched each
corner, then my eyes locked on the door to the bathroom. It
was slightly ajar. The light was on and a faint noise.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
It sounded like droplets of water. I made my way to it
and pushed the door open. So much blood was the first
thought that hit me. My mother’s lifeless body lay slumped
over in the bathtub. Her dark eyes were open, a void and
empty look in them. At that time, I thought the entire
bathtub was full of blood but it was blood that stained the
water red.
Standing still, scared that maybe I would make it worse
if I moved, I watched. Watched and waited, hoping she’d
blink her eyes and we’d just clean her up. I would help her.
My eyes roamed over her, worried that clothes she wore
and were drenched by now would make her uncomfortable.
I could still remember that empty feeling. Helpless
feeling. Her dark hair soaked wet. Red blood from her
temple mixing with her hair, barely visible but still there.
You couldn’t miss it.
Heartbeats passed.
One.
Two.
Three.
Nothing.
She still hadn’t moved. I knew it in the pit of my
stomach, she wouldn’t move.
But I still hoped.
A piece of paper caught my attention. Slowly, as if
worried I’d disturb Mamma, I reached for it on the sink
counter. There were stains on the paper. Red.
Glancing my mamma’s way, I read the words.
“Be worthy men to love, sons.” Her voice was a faint
whisper in my head, as if she was reading me those words
herself. “Your father wasn’t.”
Yes, my father was good at destroying good things and
good people. Marco inherited that gene. So we’d protect
our own at all costs. Bianca and the twins would be
protected but so would my brother. Forty years of caring
for him were hard to erase. Especially after fucking Ivan
Petrov thought he could assassinate my brother. But the
Nikolaev men would get him, I was assured of it. If they
failed, I’d go after him. Nobody fucked with my family and
got away with it.
Though I had no doubt Alexei Nikolaev would get him.
His drive to finish Ivan Petrov was unparalleled.
Needless to say, the expected blow back on Luca, when
the news of Benito’s death started circulating, had been an
added nuance and problem to deal with. I just didn’t expect
it to be so significant. The underworld found Luca’s
supposed killing of our father an offensive crime and
wanted to see him punished.
Over. My. Dead. Body.
From all the fucked up things men in our world did, they
found killing a cruel, sick, and twisted psychopath who
caused thousands of innocents’ death to be an offensive
crime. It made you question their sanity for sure. We
needed to clean the damn house. Yes, we were criminals,
but even we should have some standards. I learned that
from Nonno. People aligned with Benito, and now Marco
King had absolutely no standards, except for self-
absorption at anyone’s expense but his own.
I should have known things weren’t going to go down
easily. Nothing ever went down easily. But as Nonno
claimed, Nothing worth having is easy.
So it would seem Nonno was right. Yet again.
Standing in the middle of my warehouse on the outskirts
of New York city, I eyed packages stacked up to the ceiling.
A few days earlier, I intercepted the shipment of women
Marco, my cruel and sick-in-the-head half-brother, was
trying to smuggle into my territory and sent them back
home. In the process, I also stole his smuggled shipment of
guns, AK-47s, and I was sure he was shitting his pants right
about now. The men that expected the delivery of those
were not tolerant of delays. It would be another strike
against him.
I couldn’t deny it felt smugly satisfying to see it all here,
knowing that Marco was losing his mind. I’d rather burn it
all down than see him get his hands on it. But be that as it
may, Luciano’s men were coming to fetch it and would
move it to another location so Marco nor his minions would
ever be able to locate it.
Truthfully, watching Marco squirm under pressure,
waiting for Luca and I to come for him was priceless. I
would take pleasure in watching him crumble, piece by
fucking piece. He didn’t deserve a quick death. Marco’s
cruelty surpassed my father’s. And the little prick was
paranoid, so he surrounded himself with military grade
protection and even had a doppelganger.
He was more than happy to dish out cruelty, but the
little prick couldn’t take a punch. He was a sneaky weaselly
little prick. There were rumors Marco was trying to take
over Vegas with assistance of Ivan Petrov, the sick Siberian
prick. I wished both of those cocksuckers would freeze
their balls off in Siberia. It would be a great service to us
all.
Either way, I’d never allow my brother’s nor Ivan’s
expansion. As long as Luca, Alexei, or myself were alive,
neither Ivan nor Marco would continue gaining power.
Besides, Alexei was taking care of Ivan. Or he would - very
soon. We just had to end both of them. Once and for all.
I glanced at my watch. It was a quarter to three.
Luciano’s men should be here soon. It gave me just enough
time to ring Alexei Nikolaev.
I scrolled through my phone contacts and dialed him up.
“Cassio.” Alexei’s cold tone crept through the line. He
never bothered even with the briefest greeting.
“Marco’s working with Ivan,” I told him. First that
fucker tried to assassinate my brother and now he aligned
himself with Marco. Two strikes against him. The third one
he wouldn’t survive.
I had a suspicion Ivan was aligning himself with Marco
so he could take over. Petrov probably suspected Marco
wouldn’t survive long in this world. He might even kill
Marco himself. It didn’t matter; they were both dead men
to me. Petrov might act like he had certain scruples, but he
had none. There was nobody that could attest to that more
than Alexei.
Two heartbeats passed. I could feel the temperature
drop even over the phone. He hated Ivan Petrov, not that I
could blame him. It was his cross to bear.
 “Let’s see who dies first, shall we?” he retorted in a
frigid voice without a hint of emotion before the line went
dead.
I didn’t expect a reaction from him. I couldn’t recall a
single time I saw even a flicker of emotion on his face. If I
had to guess, it was his coping mechanism. In this fucked
up world, we all had our own way of dealing with our
crosses. I was nobody to judge.
Not long after, Luciano’s men came and loaded the
trucks with the equipment. The warehouse was empty, just
as it was this morning.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Six

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

W ith my business settled in New York, I arrived in

Las Vegas.
Callahan’s women were here too. Áine Evans, my little
butterfly. I hadn’t touched her nor spoken to her since that
night at my club. I could have gone against Callahan and
taken her, but it wasn’t the right move or the right time. It
would have put her in harm’s way back then. It wasn’t
worth risking her life like that. But now, it was time to take
what was mine. What had been mine from the moment she
took her first breath.
She was mine to protect. Mine to love. She was simply
all mine.
So, I had finished up some business, and now would
decompress and trap my future wife into my little web.
Three for one. The latter would be the sweetest conquest.
I wanted to get married quickly. I had the perfect excuse
with Nonno’s latest request, his wish to see me and Luca
married. He said it many times, over and over again, that
he would refuse to die until he saw his grandsons married.
It never had so much merit as it did now. It put extra
pressure on me since Luca made it clear he had no
intention of getting married. Ever. I would have had the
same response before my rendezvous with Áine two years
ago.
Collecting Callahan’s debt and getting married was my
sole purpose now, and with a certain red haired woman in
mind, it would be no hardship at all. The wedding would
happen, and I’d take my wife to visit my grandfather in
Sicily. His time on this earth was coming to an end. I didn’t
like to think about it; he was the only real family Luca and I
had growing up. He was our mother, father, grandparent,
and everything in between. He taught Luca and I how to be
strong, fight our father with more than just guns. It was
thanks to him that we became lethal and worthy opponents
to the unscrupulous men that worked with the King empire.
“Ready, brother?” I asked Luca.
We resembled each other, at least we were always told
that, but our personalities were nothing alike. He was laid
back, quick with his smiles and charm. Me, not so much.
Our father’s brutality, viciousness, and cunning left a mark
on my soul. A stain. I was too ruthless, too emotionless, too
harsh, like a dark threatening cloud. Maybe I was more like
him than I cared to admit. Or maybe I saw too much of my
father’s cruelty before Nonno took us away. Either way, I
was too much.
Too much of something that makes you a perfect killer,
my grandfather would say smiling.
He always hoped to live long enough to see Benito King
fall. When he heard Benito’s own daughter killed him, he
grinned like a shark. Bianca had become his adopted
granddaughter with that act alone. The bastard deserved
his death; we all knew it. For what he’d done to our mother
and numerous other women.
“Let’s rock-n-roll,” he replied. My three men stood in all-
black suits, guns tucked in under their jackets, wearing
their earpieces and ready to go. I didn’t need bodyguards
to defend myself, but it was always better to have backup
than to lack it at a time of need. Besides, we needed them
on standby.
The walk from the penthouse hotel suite to the nightclub
was short. The moment I entered the club on the top floor,
the entirety of Vegas at our feet, I headed for the private
VIP suit. The entire club had glass walls that allowed the
never sleeping Las Vegas lights to glitter, like the sins this
city was made out of.
A woman waited for us in the VIP suit. She wore a dark
red dress, accenting her black hair, her curved body more
uncovered than covered. She didn’t do anything for me.
There was only one woman for me, and soon, she’d be my
wife. If our interaction from two years ago was any
indication, the two of us would be a perfect fit.
Our hostess for tonight assured us we would have
anything we needed - from drinks and food, all the way to
drugs and women. Everything was on the menu in the city
of sin. Thankfully neither my brother nor I were into any of
that shit, only drinks would do for us. We were capable of
finding our own women. Besides, I’d already found mine.
Drinks, whiskey, scotch, champagne, and bourbon
bottles had been placed on the table, waiting for us.
“Can I pour you a glass?” the woman asked, her voice
husky, insinuating. Her eyes were hungrily roaming my
body, not even bothering to be discreet. She wanted to
ensure I knew I could have her right now and right here,
but I had no intention of taking her up on her offer. Or any
other woman.
But soon, I’d collect the debt Callahan owed me. Right
now, I’d have to use a decoy. Callahan didn’t know I knew
his secret, and once my plan played out, I was certain he
wouldn’t be happy.
“Scotch,” I answered. Dismissing her out of my mind, I
looked around the room. There was nobody around that
would catch my attention. Our area was closed off from
view of the public, but we could see them all there.
 “Bourbon.” My brother only drank bourbon when he was
celebrating or found a woman to fuck. I followed his gaze,
and once I saw what, or rather who, he was staring at, I
grinned. Margaret Callahan and Áine Evans. They just
strode in, their steps sure and in sync. Like they owned the
club.
Two years without her were too long. Way too long. Her
hair gave off flickering fire colors that changed shade each
time she moved. I watched her lean over and whisper
something in Margaret’s ear and the two shared a smile. I
knew from her background that those two spent a lot of
time together. Their personalities were very different, yet
they seemed very close.
After a few more exchanged words, they joined a crowd
of women on the dance floor who were clearly celebrating.
Margaret Callahan and Áine Evans quickly became the
center of it all. I couldn’t peel my eyes off Áine. She had
turned into the most exquisite woman I have ever seen. Her
long red hair, colors of burning embers, reflecting under
the dim lights of the nightclub caught everyone’s eyes.
Two fucking years and I could still hear her moans,
remember how soft her skin felt under my palms. I wanted
her more than anything. Nobody and nothing would keep
me away from her. I told Nonno I would marry her no
matter what. And I meant it.
I’ll cheat, steal, and kill as long as she becomes mine at
the end of it all.
Except, the readiness to go to that length reminded me
too much of Benito.
Shoving any thoughts of my resemblance to that bastard
out of my mind, I focused on the woman my heart desired.
Her hair flowed down past the swell of her breast and I
couldn’t help but remember how her silky strands felt
wrapped around my fingers. The images of gripping those
soft ember strands flashed in my mind, how her mouth
parted when she was turned on…. I remembered it all.
Every second of that night.
At that exact moment, she smiled at one of her friends
and my cock stirred. Fuck, that smile! Every goddamn time,
it lit her whole face up. Will she smile like that for me? She
smiled like that for me that night two years ago.
She twirled around, her back exposed to me, and it took
all I had not to walk over to her and drag her into an empty
room. Just like I had two years ago.
Sweet Jesus! I couldn’t remember when was the last
time my cock stirred from just looking at a woman. I guess
it was two years ago, I thought wryly. It all went back to
that night.
Her graceful back was wide open, driving my
imagination into overdrive. Two thin straps held the little
dress together, lowering to an open back that dipped to the
top of her ass. Each time she moved, the dress played a
game of peekaboo. I kept on staring, waiting for a more
revealing view, but it never came.
“It’s Áine,” Luca spoke in a low voice. “And Margaret.”
Like I could ever miss them.
Bringing my glass of scotch to my lips, I downed it. My
eyes never moved from their forms, watching them dance
wildly to a song I have never even heard of. Something
about monsters or some shit like that.
“Would you like another glass?” The hostess’ voice came
through.
“Yes.” I never removed my eyes from two women on the
dance floor.
“The song is “Monsters Come Out At Night,”” the
hostess tried to explain although I never asked. “It’s quite
popular now.”
I didn’t give a fuck. “That’s all. Thank you,” I dismissed
her.
For some reason, that I didn’t want to ponder on, the
song struck a nerve. We were two of those monsters. And
right now, I was lurking in the shadows, stalking my prey. I
had been stalking Áine for a while now. She became my
obsession.
And in order to get her, I had been prepared to do a lot
of bad, morally questionable shit. Callahan wasn’t willing to
put Áine on the table, so I’d force him. After all, debts came
in all shapes and sizes.
The song changed to a slower one. I watched Margaret
and Áine exchange a few words. There was some hassle
back and forth, then Áine headed out of the club, Margaret
right along with her, leaving the rest of their group to
continue the party.
Odd, I thought to myself. They just arrived and were
already leaving.
I stood up from my seat, my drink forgotten, and stalked
their way. My brother followed, and I quickly barked out
the order to my men to remain behind. Two of us would be
enough. We didn’t need an entourage to crowd the women.
I was on a mission, hunting them. As we exited the club,
I saw their little forms down the marble hallway, a few
straggling visitors passing them by in either direction. They
strode with intent and purpose, almost as if there was
something urgent going on.
“Let’s take the stairs.” Áine’s soft voice traveled over to
us. “You have the weapons?”
Luca and I shared a glance. Why would those two need
weapons?
“Yep!” Margaret nodded. “I’m ready to kick some ass.”
I frowned. It wasn’t often that I was confused or
surprised, though now I was both.
Áine chuckled. “You are always ready to kick ass.”
What the hell was going on?
Changing my plan, I looked over to my brother and
shifted to the shadows. I wanted to know what the women
were up to. Luca and I kept our footsteps quiet, sticking to
the shadows and corners of the hallway so we wouldn’t be
spotted. We probably appeared like full blown stalkers, but
both our interests were piqued. Good fucking thing we
always wore combat boots, no matter what suit we wore.
The two disappeared through the exit door, taking the
stairs, and I reached for the door handle when my phone
dinged. I glanced down to see who it was.
It was Alexei and I silently cursed. He wouldn’t message
just for the hell of it. He only called or messaged when it
was something important. I couldn’t ignore his message.
“Have our men follow them,” I told Luca.
No other words were needed. We had to know what
those two were up to.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seven

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

M argaret and I were pushed so hard from behind, I

fell forward onto my knees, my hands instinctively
reaching out to stop the impact. My knees burned from the
fall, but I ignored it. This was part of the plan. As were the
revealing club dresses we still wore. These men were
fooled to think we were weak, their prey.
When in fact, we preyed on them. They fell into our trap.
We were never vulnerable. John and the rest of the guys
from The Rose Rescue had eyes on us all along. In fact,
they were probably out there right now with
transportation.
“Surprised to see such a fancy place in Vegas?” The guy
that smelled like cheap cologne sneered, his eyes roaming
over both Margaret and I. As if he was deciding which one
of us he’d break first. The answer was neither.
Fucking idiots! They thought they were so smart, yet
they brought us exactly where we needed to be. In the
midst of the little King trafficking ring. In an abandoned
warehouse outside Las Vegas. The place was filthy, and the
musty scent of dirt and piss filled the air.
I glanced over at Margaret. She was on her knees too
and we shared a fleeting look. We’ve been doing this
together for years now. Benito and Marco King were
clueless that a pair of women were slowly disassembling
their corrupted little empire. Nobody knew it but a selected
few. Benito was dead and his sons would be next.
The name King would cease to exist, if it was the last
thing I did. They’d pay for killing my father and hurting so
many innocents.
Okay, so this wasn’t my normal job. I worked as an
architect at HC Architecture. This was just my side gig. We
all needed hobbies. Well, this one was mine. I fucking loved
bringing down bad guys.
A snicker came from the men behind us, focusing me on
the current situation. My eyes flickered to Margaret who
rolled her eyes annoyed. She would have preferred we just
bombed the place, but we had to ensure the women they
kept in here were taken out of the warehouse before we did
that. If they weren’t here, I’d be all on board bombing this
place to dust.
Pushing myself up, I surveyed the room. There were four
men behind us and four in front of us. We could easily take
them out. They were so stupid and conceited; they never
even thought to search us. I had a gun and knife strapped
to my upper thigh, concealed by my dress. Margaret had a
gun. She didn’t like knives.
My lips curled into a smile. I couldn’t help it. Every time
she saw a knife, she screeched like she saw a snake; it was
comical.
“What’s so funny?” one of the men asked. He seemed to
be their “leader.” I scoffed at that. He was some pathetic
loser, a low ranking criminal. “You won’t be laughing when
Marco King breaks you in,” he drawled in a way that made
my skin prickle with disgust. “I heard he loves redheads.”
A nasty grin spread across his face, but I kept my
features schooled. I wouldn’t let him see how much I hated
the thought of any member of the King family around me.
They were disgusting and cruel, true psychopaths. I
wouldn’t rest until every single one of them was dead.
Starting with Marco King, since dear old daddy was killed
by someone else. The rumor was that one of his illegitimate
sons killed him - Cassio or Luca King.
It was odd really. Benito and Marco King’s information
and pictures were easy to obtain. It was all at our
fingertips. But information on Cassio and Luca King was
elusive. Not a single picture. Not a single record. Not even
a date of birth. Nothing. Just their names. It made me
wonder why that was. It was clear that both Benito and
Marco enjoyed the spotlight. Probably something
empowering about it to those sick assholes. The knowledge
that the entire world knew those two were criminals, yet
they were so elusive.
Not so elusive anymore. Benito King was dead. Marco
would soon follow. The illegitimate sons too - if I could only
get my hands on their information. Their names alone
didn’t help me in tracking them down.
In my mind, psychopath equaled the Kings. Those two
were synonyms. I couldn’t think of one without the other.
Though I did come to a conclusion over the years.
Psychopaths had many different faces. Race, gender,
ethnicity, rich or poor - none of it mattered. Some people
would probably call me a psychopath too. I didn’t really
give a shit. I killed men that committed unimaginable
crimes. That caused suffering to innocent little girls and
women. And I fucking loved it. There was a sense of justice
to it.
It was time to kill these men.
I scoffed at the stinky, dirty little man that kept leering
at me.
“I don’t give a shit what Marco King likes.” I locked my
eyes on the lowlife who thought he could add two more
women to his collection for Marco King. He preyed on the
innocent, helpless women. “But I’ll be sure to let him know
you tried your best to deliver us,” I sneered. “Right before I
kill him.”
 And with that, both Margaret and I sprang into action.
Reaching underneath our dresses, the men were more
concerned to see a glimpse of our thighs than what we kept
underneath it all. Taking a deep breath, the scene that
unfolded was a blur. Margaret had her gun and fired shots
at the men behind us, hailing bullets on those assholes. I
aimed in front of me. Tightening my grip on the handgun, I
flicked off the safety and leaped forward. I fired rounds of
bullets in quick succession and watched as bodies flew
backwards.
A grim satisfaction swam through my veins. These men
were the rot of this earth. They deserved to die for all the
harm they caused to women and families they have broken.
The sounds of Margaret’s and my breathing was the only
thing I heard in the hollow of the empty warehouse, bodies
of men sprawled over the dirty floor.
Through the years, Margaret and I learned to be in tune.
To fight, but still be aware of each other. To keep each
other alive.
Another man came up to me, but before he could put his
hands on me, I shoved my knee between his legs with all
my strength. He hunched over, I grabbed his head with
both my hands, then snapped his neck with the loud crack
of his bones. No matter how many times I’ve heard it, it
still sent chills and creeps crawling down my spine. But
also a sense of thrill. Knowing that he’d never hurt another
woman felt incredibly good.
A whimper sounded and I followed the sound. The leader
of the group tried to crawl away, desperate to save himself.
Dropping the dead body onto the ground, I strode barefoot
to him with quick steps. Then kneeling down next to him, I
studied him. He was gurgling on his blood, his eyes frantic
and full of disbelief on me.
“Women?” One word, no need to waste my breath. He
knew what I wanted to know.
 “Locked,” he whimpered. “Back of the warehouse. Help
me.”
I’d much rather gut him and watch him suffer slowly
than help him.
“Give me the key,” I demanded. He was insane if he
thought I’d help him. He never even attempted to help the
women that were locked up. His face was a bloody mess,
blood trickling from the side of his mouth.
“Left pocket,” he gurgled.
I rifled through his left pocket and found it. Yanking the
keys out, I stood up. Raising my head, I spotted Margaret
walking towards me. She held her own against the men in
the back, and they all laid dead on the dirty warehouse
floor. I was so damn proud of her.
She flicked a glance at the man dying at my feet, his
eyes frantically darting between the two of us. The dimmed
lights throughout the warehouse made the dead bodies
seem ominous, but it would be worse with innocent
women’s deaths.
Pointing the muzzle at him, Margaret smiled mockingly.
“Any last words?”
She liked to taunt. Must be the Irish in her, I mused.
His eyes came to me, panic in them. “You said you were
going to help me,” he muttered.
I shrugged. “No, I didn’t. I asked for the keys.”
The same moment he realized his mistake, Margaret’s
gun went off, killing him on the spot. We both watched the
light extinguish in his eyes. It was better than he deserved.
The women they kidnapped would have endured months
and years of pain, abuse and agony until they were
discarded like garbage.
Sometimes I wished I had that kind of time to torture
these men and make them suffer. Give them a taste of their
own medicine and see how strong they were.
We headed towards the back of the warehouse and the
closer we got, the worse the stench became. I clenched the
key in the palm of my hand, the grits of it digging into my
skin. It was always the same; each time we saved them
something pricked in the back of my mind, a faded memory.
But I couldn’t catch it. I could never catch it.
It was frustrating as fuck.
I opened the door and the smell of urine assaulted my
nostrils. A group of about thirty women were crammed in a
small room without any windows, no bathrooms. Their
whimpers grew and crying started.
“We are here to help,” I told them softly. “We are taking
you somewhere safe.”
They were caged in worse conditions than animals and
anger boiled within me.
Fuzzy memories danced in the back of my mind. A cave
echoing, painful screams pierced through my mind,
drowning out all the noises surrounding us. As if looking
through a lens, I saw John and the rest of the men of our
The Rose Rescue rush past me, Margaret comforting the
panicked women. Images flashed through my mind, fuzzy
and distant.
He wore a menacing, gruesome smile displaying rotten
black teeth. My stomach churned, the woman screamed
underneath him as he pounded into her hard.
“Can’t touch you,” he snickered. “But I can do to her
what will be done to you.”
Her brown gaze connected with mine, her tear stained
face broken with pain as her body slid up and down the
table as he thrust into her. Her head hit the side lamp with
each thrust, but she never winced, like the pain didn’t even
register.
She was older than me, much older. But it didn’t make it
right. She was as helpless as I was. Tears streamed down
my face yet not a sound left my lips. I should scream; I
should fight. Yet all I did was stand there frozen with fear.
A loud grunt sounded through the room, the last shove
of her body against the lamp, sending it flying off the desk
and shattering across the dirty floor.
I didn’t want to look up. I really, really didn’t want to
look up. My eyes lifted, on their own will, to see him pull
himself out of her. His hand reached between her thighs
and brought it up onto her face, smearing his white gooey
substance all over it.
The memory vanished as fast as it appeared and my
body retched. Another meal gone, another disturbing
memory that caused my stomach to churn and empty its
contents. My skin was clammy and light perspiration
appeared on my forehead as I stared at my thrown up
dinner.
Migraines would follow soon, warranting a visit to the
therapist. He could cure the migraines and bad dreams or
memories, but never this hatred for the Kings.
The King family had to be stopped.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eight

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

B one splintered beneath my fist, and I watched as the

man’s head snapped back. He gurgled, choking on
his own blood. He deserved nothing better, but before he
choked to death, I wanted answers.
This fucking pussy was one of Marco’s minions. God, if
he surrounded himself with men like this, I should just
attack him and kill them all. It wouldn’t be hard at all.
The skinny bastard had been begging for his life for the
past twenty minutes, and we’d barely started. Mercy was
an unfamiliar concept in our world. He should understand
that, especially working for Marco.
“Location of the warehouse,” I told the pathetic asshole.
“And it will all be over.”
Smashing into his other cheek, his body, tied to the
chair, flew onto the ground. “P-please, he’ll kill me.”
“And what do you think I’ll do to you?” I cocked my
eyebrow. My fists were bloodied from all the punches I’d
dished his way. My mood was crimson today. My men lost
the trail of Callahan’s girls last night and now this moron
was withholding information.
Not for long though, I sneered mentally.
Luca’s and my gaze met. He leaned against the wall,
frustration clear on his face. Something had been up his
ass all damn day. He stared at me, like I stole his favorite
piece of candy. I guess neither one of us was doing great
today.
“Last chance,” I told our captive. I was ready to end this
day. “Give me the location. Or I’m going for your family.”
His eyeballs almost popped out of his skull. “Y-you
wouldn’t. Everyone knows you don’t fuck with innocents.”
I landed another punch, breaking his nose, and grinned.
It probably looked more like a shark baring his teeth than a
grin. As far as I was concerned, this guy deserved whatever
was coming his way. He should have never gotten in bed
with Marco.
“If they have information on Marco and the women he is
smuggling-,” I said, nonchalantly as I bent his index finger,
bones cracking, “...then they are not exactly innocent.”
And that did it. After that, the guy was more than happy
to share the location.
The weasel squealed like a pig. “A Siberian gave Marco
a warehouse to store the women in,” he screamed. “Boss is
waiting for clearance from his contact in New York to move
them to the city.”
I scoffed. Marco was anything but a boss, and I had a
suspicion I knew who his contact in New York was.
“What was the Siberian getting in return?” I spat out.
“Women for sex and his club, and boys for his fighting
ring. Or some shit like that,” he whimpered. That could be
only one Siberian Russian guy. Ivan Petrov.
Ivan Petrov, the head of the Siberian Russian Bratva in
Las Vegas and Eastern Europe, was of the same caliber as
Benito and Marco. But that guy didn’t stop at women, he
also kidnapped orphaned boys and had them fight in
underground tournaments. There was only one rule in
those underground fighting rings - one survivor. Alexei
Nikolaev was one of those rare survivors.
I pulled the gun out of my holster and aimed.
 “Wait!” the little shithead whimpered. My finger on the
trigger was itching to pull it. “I know something!”
Luca and I shared the briefest of glances, then I
returned my attention to the bloodied face.
“Well, don’t let me stop you from spilling your guts. I
don’t have all day.” Truth was that I wanted to see Áine
again. Even if I couldn’t touch her, just seeing her soothed
me down to my bone marrow.
“Marco is holding a tribute to his father.” I raised my
eyebrow. Did this idiot really think that would be of any
interest to me? I wouldn’t attend a tribute to my father if
my life depended on it. “He plans on collecting on all new
and old debts. All of them! Then he’ll hold the largest
auction of belles in history.”
The rage gripped my heart and molten anger rolled
through every fiber of me. It consumed my every breath,
causing my heartbeat to falter. I’d like to think it was all
due to the anger that thrummed through my veins, but it
was more. So much fucking more.
That weasel of my brother dared to threaten my sister,
my nieces, Grace and Ella, and who knew how many more.
He really had a death wish, because once word of this got
out, every husband, father, or brother would be after him.
“When?” My voice was strangely calm and unwavering
while every living cell within me shook with fury.
“Don’t know. Please,” he begged. “I just overheard it by
accident. I can try and find out more.”
To hell he will. I wouldn’t risk Marco finding out that we
knew. The risks were too high.
I pulled the trigger and his body slumped forward, blood
streaming down the side of his face.
I met Luca’s gaze. His expression was as grim as my
insides felt. This hit too close to home.
“We have to warn them,” he rasped.
I hated to dish unwarranted information their way in
case this information was all wrong. But there was no
alternative. If we said nothing and something happened, we
were just as guilty.
My hands bloodied, I headed to the sink and washed
them before pulling my phone free of my pocket and
sending a group text.
*Rumor of Marco holding final belles auction. He’ll
attempt to collect all of them, past and present, for
the final auction. Keep security tight and eyes open.*
Pressing the send button, I shoved my phone back into
my pocket. I was tired. So fucking tired of all this shit.
Years of doing this and some days it felt like we made no
difference.
“Now what?” Luca asked. He wanted to go hunt our
brother, except that wasn’t an option. Not right now, not
today.
“Now we go save the women being held in Ivan’s
warehouse.”
They needed our help today. Tomorrow we’d help the
others.

T wenty minutes later , L uca and I were on the outskirts of

Las Vegas, the seedy side that was never shown in the
movies or postcards. The neighborhood was rundown and
filthy, many families living in the underground tunnels. It
was families on this side of the town that were most
vulnerable.
“Man, this is some shit,” Luca muttered. “Millions of
dollars spent on the Las Vegas Strip and then this. Run
down shacks.”
He was right. Las Vegas for all its flashy lights, hid a lot
of rot underneath it all. Sins and poverty were plenty in this
city. Families destroyed by gambling and drugs. As if that
wasn’t enough, trafficked women and forced prostitution
had started expanding greatly.
We passed the neighborhood, knowing full well we
couldn’t save them all, and came to a clearing.
Fuck. Me. There was a recent explosion here. A rather
big one too.
“Did he double cross us?” Luca gritted.
“No,” I told him, scanning the area. Yellow tape was
everywhere and on the opposite side of the clearing was a
van. The bomb squad. “There seems to have been an
explosion.”
He followed my gaze. “Fuck. I hope those women
weren't here.”
I hoped so too.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nine

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

“M argaret,” I groaned. “Don’t you think this is a bit

too much?”
“No, I don’t,” she replied. Of course, I knew she’d say
that. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I felt
uncomfortable wearing this. She picked up a sparkly little
dress in the boutique of this luxurious hotel, claiming I had
nothing appropriate to wear.
I beg to differ, I thought wryly. My whole suitcase
contained plenty of appropriate clothing to wear. This dress
she picked out for me was inappropriate. It was so short; it
barely covered my ass. My whole back was pretty much
exposed… naked. The dress I wore last night to the
nightclub was excessively revealing, but compared to this
one, it was a nun’s outfit. The side of my breasts played
peekaboo each time I moved, revealing enough but
thankfully not all of it. If it was just us girls having a party
at home, I wouldn’t have minded. But going out dressed in
something Margaret had picked out, it was bound to attract
unwanted attention.
The haunting brown eyes of an unknown woman being
raped frequented me. The images flashed in the back of my
mind, unfocused and scrambled, causing a constant,
lingering headache. I knew the signs; I was used to them by
now. They had become a permanent part of all my broken
pieces. And I was so damn sick of being broken.
There was only once in the past eleven years when I had
felt normal. When I felt whole.
Two years ago. In the dark of a nightclub.
I could still remember how good his touch felt. His
palms on my thighs, his tanned skin marred with that rose
tattoo against my pale skin. Panic never came. Only lust -
and feeling protected. The most ridiculous notion
considering I didn’t even know his name.
The light pang of regret hit me. I should have kept my
head and at least asked for his name. Or maybe it was just
a casual hookup for him. For me, it was so much more.
A revelation. A hope. That maybe, just maybe I could be
normal with someone. Share intimacies with a man rather
than panic attacks at a simple, familiar touch.
I studied my reflection. My blue eyes stared back at me,
revealing nothing of the turmoil brewing inside my brain
and soul. A perfectly normal and sane young woman stared
back at me. On the outside, I was put together. I was whole.
Yet on the inside, I was all shattered glass with no hope of
ever being repaired. The fragments of me were irrevocably
damaged.
After all, it was the reason I kept visiting a therapist. To
keep the images that tore at my mind at bay. I couldn’t
understand where they were coming from. Maybe it was
my overactive imagination at seeing the state of the women
we saved. Though I didn’t think so. I remembered every
single woman’s face that we’d saved since I took over The
Rose Rescue. I had never seen the women that haunted my
dreams and memories.
Shoving it all into a deep, dark corner, I observed my
physical appearance. I stood at barely five foot six. My body
was strong, resilient. It was the only thing working for me.
I studied my red hair, pulled up in a high ponytail, and the
vibrant color of it was striking against the silvery sparkly
dress. I applied light makeup to my eyes and my lips, and a
tiny bit of blush. I knew blush wasn’t necessary since I’d be
blushing all damn evening. Bad side effect of being so fair-
skinned.
I felt exposed. But at least my appearance hid all the
fractured pieces. Everyone would focus on the flashy
exterior and ignore the interior. That is the goal, I thought
wryly to myself.
“Fuck, you look smoking hot,” Margaret spoke up and
instantly I blushed. See, no blush needed. “Let’s see if Chad
can resist you tonight.”
I groaned inwardly. Not Chad again. I hadn’t told her
what happened this morning. It was over between him and
me… or it would be very soon. Not that we had much of a
relationship. I could barely stand his nearness.
Chad Stewart was the state’s attorney for New York. We
met at one of the functions that my step-father had been
invited to about a year ago. My mother had a migraine so I
stepped in. I wasn’t even sure how we started dating. He
was handsome, charming enough, but it wasn’t like I was
attracted to him. In fact, I felt towards him the same as any
other man I had ever met, except one. Physically, I couldn’t
stand his touch.
Initially, I rejected his offer for coffee. Several times. But
he was very determined. After multiple attempts, I finally
agreed and surprisingly had a good time. I worked a lot,
traveled a lot, so in theory, we didn’t spend much time
together. He didn’t complain and neither did I. It kind of
worked.
Though now thinking back, it really didn’t work. I should
have known a platonic relationship wasn’t really dating. It
was naive and stupid of me.
Either way, Chad and I weren’t for each other. We were
stuck at the same spot in our relationship, if it could be
called that. He didn’t stir any emotions or cravings within
me. In fact, I froze every time he tried to kiss me. I sensed
a while back he was getting tired of waiting. After this
morning, I got my confirmation.
It didn’t hurt. There were no emotional strings attached
between the two of us. What hurt the most was that I got
another confirmation at how damaged I was. I tried so hard
to overcome the way my body reacted. To no avail.
There was only one man that ever made me crave
physical closeness.
My mysterious stranger. I didn’t even know his name.
Nobody had ever made me lose control of my body like him.
No name. No contact. Nothing after Margaret came
banging on the door, interrupting my perfect stranger’s
session with my body.
Jack, my stepfather, and Margaret’s brothers came
searching for us in the club. While the bouncer had no
issues stopping my cousins from entering the club, he
wasn’t inclined to refuse Jack Callahan. After I had to leave
abruptly, I regretted not giving the stranger my number or
asking for his. But everything happened so unexpectedly, it
never even crossed my mind.
I wanted to go to the club the next day, but things were
heated for a few days afterwards. My stepfather was rather
pissed at Margaret and me the next morning, then shortly
afterwards I moved to my own apartment. Life somehow
got in the way, but I never forgot him.
A month later, I drove by that club several times, but
much to my dismay, I never saw him again. I even
approached one of the front bouncers describing him and
asking if he knew who he was. All I got was a blank stare. I
took that as a negative response. I promised Jack I’d never
go into that club again, and since the bouncer had no clue
who I was talking about, it seemed silly to break my word
to my stepfather.
But that orgasm was…. Ugh, better stop thinking about
that.
 It was really frustrating that my body rejected anyone
else. I had no idea where it was coming from, but each time
a man tried to initiate even a touch, I froze. My body would
shut down and my mind would scream in protest. At
twenty-five, I had to be the oldest virgin in all of New York.
Much to my dismay.
It wasn’t exactly the position I competed for. My
adventures with my trusted battery operated friend weren’t
so exciting anymore. Especially after experiencing how
great the real deal could be. My stranger gave me a
glimpse and then left me high and dry.
“Do you think Chad will like it?” Maggie asked. I
shrugged. It didn’t really matter if he liked it or not.
Chad! My body definitely didn’t want him, but I guess I
kept this relationship going with hopes that it would
somehow work out. Both Mom and Jack kept encouraging
it, since Chad was following similar footsteps in politics like
my father.
I should have known better. Though I wished Chad had
enough decency to at least acknowledge and tell me it
wasn’t working anymore before he went and slept with one
of Margaret’s girlfriends. That was shitty, but men tended
to do shitty things, I guess. Maybe my instinct warned me
all along not to trust Chad, to keep him at bay.
After all, my instinct was what helped me survive all the
tense situations I had found myself in ever since my father
had left me his little side rescue business, The Rose
Rescue. Though I gave it its current name. I scoffed in my
mind. A prime minister running a side business. Somehow
you never thought you’d hear those two together. Yet, it
was true. Before his political career, Dad had seen some
shit. He thought he’d make a difference becoming the
prime minister. He did, but not as much as he wanted to. So
he reached out to some of his buddies and started a rescue
mission with the information he was able to obtain due to
his position. But diplomacy played into rescuing innocents
too often. Border crossing. Foreign territory. Foreign rules.
Days dicking around to this or that ambassador. When legal
hands were tied or slow, he’d save the women the illegal
way. And I got it all, on my eighteenth birthday.
Anyhow, back to Chad. I didn’t say anything to Margaret
about his cheating ass. She’d go after him and gut him, or
at least put a bullet in him since she hated knives. It would
be entertaining to watch, but none of us needed any drama
right now.
Geez, we’d become bloodthirsty over the last few years.
Truth was that seeing how cruel men could be and the way
they took advantage of vulnerable women made us
determined never to be vulnerable.
But my inability to feel comfortable with a man’s touch
was one thing I didn’t talk to anyone about. Including
Margaret and definitely not my mother.
“Is this your interpretation of a bachelorette weekend?”
I asked her. Her wedding wasn’t for another eight weeks or
so, but with our crammed schedules, it turned out to be the
only weekend we could celebrate.
“Yes, our wild weekend before I get hitched.” She
frowned, a crease between her brows showing her
displeasure about it. She hated the idea of an arranged
marriage. I didn’t blame her; I would have hated it too.
She called this our wild weekend. Every time we did one
of her wild weekends, we got into trouble. I loved her and
she was always there for me, but her energy levels were
dangerous at times. It was the reason I pulled her into my
little organization, to burn some of that energy and do good
at the same time.
Her secretive marriage was mind boggling. She didn’t
give me a name because she didn’t know it. When she told
me it was an arranged marriage, my mouth just about
dropped. Ever since she found out about it, her wild parties
had gotten reckless. I tried to be there with her whenever I
could. I didn’t want anything happening to her. She would
do the same for me.
Her phone rang. When she didn’t move, just kept
turning around, checking out her ass in the mirror, I asked
her with humor in my voice, “Are you going to answer that
or is your ass just so interesting?”
She looked up and our eyes met in the mirror. “It's my
uncle.”
Ah, so she was avoiding him. I shrugged. It was her
business, and when she wanted to talk about it, she would.
The next second, my phone rang. I guessed who it was,
but just to confirm my suspicion, I reached for it. It was my
stepfather. I couldn’t ignore him like Margaret did, so I slid
the answer button.
“Hi, Jack,” I greeted him.
“Áine, where is Margaret?” Jack went straight to
business, his tone sharp and hard. He was in his head of
the Irish mafia mode.
“Hello to you too,” I retorted dryly. “She is getting ready
and can’t come to the phone right now.”
Yes, I covered for her. She covered for me too. That was
what friends did for each other. And she was so much more
than that, family by my mother’s marriage to Jack.
“I bet she can’t,” he muttered, probably guessing she
was avoiding him. “Tell her I do not want to see another
hundred thousand dollar gambling debt come through.”
I cringed. I didn’t realize Margaret found time to
gamble, never mind lose a hundred grand.
“Sure, I’ll tell her,” I assured him, giving a pointed look
to Margaret who was back to checking her ass.
“How are you?” Jack switched subjects, his tone
softening. For some reason, he treated me like I was too
fragile and needed protection. I was way past that stage. I
was capable of killing, just as easily as he was.
“I’m good,” I told him. “Vegas has been fun so far.”
 If he knew fun equated to successful missions and killing
men, he’d have a cow. But no need to stress the elders.
“Good, but don’t make it too much fun,” he joked.
“Are you and Mom having your dinner date tonight?” I
asked. The two of them made dinner date nights regularly.
It was just their time. I questioned them once before and
Mom told me it was Jack that insisted on it because they
missed so many dates in their life.
“Yes, we are,” he replied. “I’d offer to bring you a
dessert home, but it’d spoil by the time we see you.” I
chuckled. “Will you come see us next week?”
Jack disliked the fact that I had my own apartment. He
was against me moving out, listing every single reason
under the sun. Even potential snow blizzards and being
stranded in that apartment building. “It has been a few
weeks and we miss you.”
People talk about step parents like they were spawns of
evil, but for me, it proved to be the opposite. Jack had been
like a real father, no worse or better than my own dad. I
loved them both, and they were the most important men in
my life. I lost my dad, but I didn’t forget him. And Jack
often listened to me reminiscing about him when we first
lost him.
“Yes, I’ll come next week,” I promised him. “Maybe we
can have dinner and watch a movie?”
“I will make a plan and pick a movie,” he agreed eagerly.
We had weekly dinner and movie plans when we first
moved in with him. We kept the tradition until I moved out.
Occasionally, we still made plans for it, but it was no longer
a weekly activity.
“Perfect,” I answered. “I have to go and get ready. Pick a
day and let me know. I’ll try to make sure I can fit it into my
schedule.”
“Your mom will be happy,” he beamed. “Talk to you later.
Keep Margaret in check. Love you.”
 “Love you too,” I answered, ignoring his comment on
keeping Margaret in check. If Margaret decided on
something, there was nobody on this planet that would hold
her back. “Bye, Jack.”
I hung up and met Margaret’s gaze on me. “Let me
guess,” she deadpanned. “He is complaining about me
spending money.”
I rolled my eyes. “When did you have time to gamble?” I
asked her instead of confirming her comment.
She chuckled. “It only took me thirty minutes,” she
crackled. Wow, I had never spent ten grand in thirty
minutes, not to mention a hundred grand. She twirled
around. “How do I look?”
Thankfully for the change of subject, I jumped on it.
“Like hotness on two legs,” I told her.
“Perfect,” she beamed. “Let’s go.” She looked gorgeous
and sexy, in her short red dress and black heels. Her dark
hair made the color of her dress even more vibrant. Red
was definitely Margaret’s color.
Her hair was coal black and her eyes were the same
shade as mine. Despite my hair, people often confused us
for sisters. We’d laugh and shrug them off. She was the
closest thing to a sister I’d ever had. The moment my
mother married my stepdad, our family suddenly became
extremely large. I had uncles and so many cousins… and
best of all Margaret and her brothers. They never made me
feel like their step-cousin, and I was grateful for the warm
way they welcomed both my mother and myself.
We exited our room and headed down the hallway. Only
the two of us got a room on the top floor. The rest of the
party had their rooms a few floors down. Some kind of mix
up, and they made it up to Margaret and me by giving us
the penthouse suite.
We started walking down the hallway, in the direction of
the elevators, our heels clicking against the marble floor.
 “These shoes are so impractical,” I complained. It was
little after seven in the evening. Knowing Margaret, we’d
be partying all night and my feet would be killing me. “My
feet are still killing me from last night.”
She laughed out loud. We lost our shoes somewhere
during our adventure last night, trying to save those
women.
“Fuck practical, Áine,” she cursed, giggling loudly.
“We’ll party like it’s our last night alive. We deserve it after
last night.”
“Shhh.” I bumped my shoulder against her, to remind
her to keep her voice down. “Honestly, practical and
comfortable is so much more enjoyable than hotter,” I
objected with a smile at her enthusiasm to party. It was a
Chippendale night.
“You can’t look smoking hot being practical or
comfortable,” she continued explaining, completely
ignoring me. “I can’t wait to see men shaking their booty in
my face. I hear they are super-hot.”
I cringed at the image of a man shaking his booty in my
face. I’d break his goddamn legs if he attempted. I will
politely reject him and find a corner away from them all.
“I wasn’t going for a smoking hot look,” I told her. “More
like surviving all night. We were smoking hot last night. We
should alternate, you know.”
A soft noise behind me had me turning when Margaret’s
words stopped me, the noise forgotten. “We are taking the
elevator.”
Ugh, here we go again. I hated the elevators. I couldn’t
even remember the last time I was in one. Push me out of a
plane, let’s go bungee jumping, anything… just don’t put
me in an elevator.
“Why can’t we take the stairs?” I objected, all
Chippendale men forgotten.
“We don’t want to walk more than we have to in these
heels.” Her reply made sense, but I avoided elevators with
a desperation. I didn’t know what drove my claustrophobia
in fucking elevators, but it wasn’t a pleasant experience.
“This nightclub is different from last night and we’ll have to
walk a bit to get there.”
“We can do it,” I tried to justify. “We could take our
shoes off and just walk the stairs barefoot.”
For Pete’s sake, we trained and kicked ass. We could
certainly survive the stairs.
“Are you nuts? If you want to burn energy, we’ll dance
with those hotties tonight, and we’ll get laid. If we are
climbing and descending twenty flights of stairs, I’ll be
worn out. So will you.”
There she went with getting laid again.
This time I groaned out loud. “Margaret, come on. Let’s
take the stairs.”
She threw me a side glance. “What is it with you and the
elevators?”
“Nothing,” I muttered defensively under my breath. How
could I explain something I didn’t understand myself? As
far as I knew, I didn’t have a problem with claustrophobia.
It never happened anywhere else, and this phobia of
elevators started specifically in my teens. No clue what
started it. Just came out of nowhere.
I guess compromise was in order. She endured dragging
our suitcases up the stairs with me, not wanting to leave
me to do it alone. We could have had the hotel porter bring
them up into our rooms but our weapons were in them. I
couldn’t afford to have the suitcases displaced. It wasn’t
like we could walk into any store and pick up a gun on a
whim.
“Fine, elevator it is,” I retorted in a resigned voice.
Even as I said those words, my heart started racing.
Damn it, sometimes I felt broken. Just fucking broken, and I
had no idea why. I started my breathing technique the
therapist taught me.
 Take a deep breath in. Exhale. Take a deep breath in.
Exhale. Take a deep breath in. Exhale.
I was so focused on it, I didn’t realize we were already
by the elevator. Margaret pushed the button as we stood
waiting.
Take a deep breath in. Exhale. Take a deep breath in.
Exhale.
“Are you doing your thing again?” Margaret’s voice
startled me.
“Doing what thing?” I never told her about my
claustrophobia in the elevators.
“Your breathing thing,” she retorted. “You did it
yesterday too, right after you puked your guts out.” Yeah,
yesterday was not good. I should have been helping to
evacuate women before we bombed the place down.
Instead, I puked my guts out. “Sometimes I wonder what
the fuck happened to you.”
I laughed, although the laugh sounded strangled to my
own ears.
“You and me both,” I muttered under my breath.
“Ladies,” a man’s voice sounded behind me, and I just
about jumped out of my skin.
“What the fuck?” I squealed, whipping around to see
who was behind us. A gasp left my lips the moment our
gazes met and familiarity washed over me.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Ten

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

H oly shit! Was I delirious? Maybe I was running a

fever and didn’t realize it.
My mysterious stranger. My orgasm man was here.
Right here! I could lean over and touch him. Goddamn it,
he was gorgeous. He looked even better than two years
ago. The club that night was so dim, but holy Hades. My
panties just melted.
My breath sucked into my lungs on a deep inhale and
my breathing exercise went out the window. He was mere
feet away from me, but I felt him as if his body was flushed
with mine. Fuck, arousal hit me like a tsunami. If I could,
I’d push him into a dark corner and jump him, begging him
to make me feel all those things I felt two years ago when
he had taken me into his office.
The ink on his neck was intriguing and threw off vibes
that screamed dangerous.
And lickable.
So damn lickable. I swallowed hard, my heart
thundering in my chest.
Then reason sunk in. There was no recognition in his
eyes. Nothing at all. It was like staring into mysterious
darkness. Yet, I never forgot him. There were so many
nights that I touched myself, imagining his hands on me.
Even now, just the thought of it made me combust into
flames.
I narrowed my eyes at him, annoyed that the man that
I’d fantasized about for the past two years didn’t even show
an ounce of recollection of what we’d shared between us.
The man I went furthest with.
He’s not even that great looking, I told myself. Just sexy
enough to ignite my entire body into heat. But whatever!
My expression was schooled, but I couldn’t keep my
eyes from roaming over his body. I’d bet wearing a black,
three piece suit was his signature wardrobe. It was
sophisticated and expensive, but the tattoos threw it all off.
He had ink on his hands and neck, but if I had to guess, he
had it elsewhere too. It was one of my regrets from two
years ago; that I didn’t get to see that mouthwatering body
underneath his suit.
I lifted my eyes slowly over his torso back up to his face.
His whole presence was dominating, but those eyes. Dark
and full of secrets. I wanted to see the specks in his gaze.
An invisible force pulled me to him. To feel his heat. To feel
his lips on me. Would they feel as good as I remembered?
“Whoa.” Margaret’s voice came from somewhere. Yes,
exactly my thought. Her eyes roaming over the two men
appreciatively. Did she not remember him?
Probably not. Margaret hooked up with someone else
that night. She came banging on the door but never
actually saw the mystery man.
He kept his hair short although there was enough to
push your fingers through it. I curled my fingers into a fist,
fighting the urge to plunge them through the strands to his
scalp. There were light traces of silver in his black hair that
weren’t there before. Or maybe I just didn’t notice them
that night.
That same feeling of familiarity I sensed when I first met
him snaked down my back. It frustrated me that I couldn’t
get rid of the sensation that I was missing something.
There was something about him. I searched my memory,
like I had so many times before only to come out empty. But
I was certain there was something. From a long time ago. It
was right there, hidden in the thick fog. The throbbing in
my temples started, the ache piercing through my skull. I
didn’t realize my fingers were pressing against my temples
until Margaret shook my hand off my head.
“Áine, are you alright?” I broke eye contact with the
stranger, turning to Margaret.
“What?” The haze in my brain made it hard to think. And
there were things lingering in the fog that I couldn’t quite
grasp. A hand lurked in that fog, reaching out. Yet, I could
never quite grab it.
Great, I’d have to visit my therapists the moment I got
back to New York.
“The elevator is here,” Margaret muttered. She held the
door, her eyes impatient on me. “I told you like three
times.”
“Sorry.” I shook my head, as if it would clear the fog in
my brain and lust in my body. “My head is killing me,” I
offered a half-assed excuse. My pride is hurting me even
more, I added silently. Talk about a severely impacted self-
esteem - he didn’t remember me at all.
We both stepped into the elevator and the men followed
behind us. My elevator phobia was the furthest thing from
my mind right now. Instead, all my senses were zeroed in
on the man that entered behind me.
God, those lips… a cocky, arrogant, ever-knowing smile
played around those sinfully full lips. I forced my eyes away
from them and kept studying him. I didn’t know his name,
never asked him for it that night. It was just an innocent
dance, not so innocent kiss and… oh crap, those same
butterflies I felt two years ago were back.
Get your shit together, Áine! Keep your panties on and
cool off. The man didn’t even recognize me. It must not
have been as memorable to him as it was to me. Asshole!
 Going from turned on to insulted wasn’t helping my
mental state.
“Are you guys staying here?” Margaret asked them
boldly.
I glared at her, then titled my head to the side to give
her a pointed look, shaking my head. She just ignored me.
Of course, she would ignore me. When it came to men, she
chased them just as passionately as we chased the
criminals.
Only one of the men nodded a response, but said
nothing. My hookup guy didn’t even acknowledge her,
which was unusual. Men usually fell all over themselves for
Margaret. I avoided looking into his eyes again, but from
the peripheral, I could sense him watching me. Maybe I
looked familiar to him, and he was trying to remember me.
Not sure if that lifted my spirits or not, but when the
number of men that could make your body burn with
craving was as rare as endangered species, you didn’t have
the luxury of acting undignified. Or maybe my slutty pussy
just wanted an excuse to feel his fingers inside me.
Great, now I was blushing and probably looked like a
damn tomato.
Okay, forget him, I groaned silently. Not. That. Good.
Looking.
I’d tell myself that until I believed it.
“We are celebrating. Maybe you could join us?”
Margaret used her sultry voice and put her most seductive
smile on. I scowled, demanding with my eyes for her to
stop. If these two joined us, I wouldn't be responsible for
my actions. I’d attack and possibly hump my perfect
stranger.
It was the name I assigned to him and somehow it stuck.
“I’m so sorry,” I chimed in, forcing a smile onto my face.
“But our party is full.”
Margaret’s head snapped to me. ‘No, it’s-”
 “Remember, they gave us a limit,” I lied boldly, trying to
convey with my pointed look to her that we didn’t need any
trouble. “We are full.”
Besides, no man in their right mind would want to go to
a Chippendale party. Not unless there were also female
strippers there too.
She rolled her eyes. “They’d never know.”
My eyes flicked across the younger man’s face that
watched Margaret with fascination. A dark gleam in his
eyes, almost possessive. Interesting. I glanced at Margaret,
but her eyes kept darting between both men, completely
oblivious to it.
Returning my attention to the men, I noted a striking
resemblance between the two. They had to be brothers, I
went to open my mouth, but unexpectedly, the words got
stuck in my throat. I frowned. He looked familiar too. My
eyes went back and forth between two men.
I had met these men, not two years ago but a long time
ago. I’d stake my life on it. My eyebrows scrunched, yet no
memories came.
Why can’t I remember?
I had a good memory, sharp mind. At least that was what
everyone said. With these two men, I felt like I was missing
something. Something very important.
“Do I know you?” I asked the younger guy. I had no idea
where the words came from. It sounded cheesy, like a bad
pickup line. I didn’t care. This was a puzzle that felt
important to solve.
Both of them remained quiet, but I saw the briefest of
glances they shared. My temple started to throb again, the
pulsing, beating sensation a sure sign of impending
headache.
“It’s right there, I know it,” I muttered under my breath.
My fingers went to my temples, pressing against them. The
pain was killing me. This was different from my previous
episodes. “I can almost-”
 “Áine, what the fuck is going on?” Margaret’s voice held
a note of alarm.
I blinked my eyes; each throb through a sharp piercing
pain through my skull. It was so intense I thought my brain
would explode. I focused my eyes on my cousin, taking
measured breaths to help calm down the throbbing
headache. I saw the panic on Margaret’s face and regret
hit me. This was her bachelorette weekend. It wasn’t her
fault I was a bit mental.
I took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and then forced a
smile. “I’m sorry. It was nothing. All good,” I told her in a
forced light voice. I probably just remembered two years
ago and was putting too much value into it all. Besides,
yesterday’s events had an impact and shook me to my core.
The whole elevator jerked and came to a stop, causing
my heart to skid to a halt and my stomach to drop.
“What- what was that?” My eyes darted around, a
memory blinked in my head and vanished the same second.
God, I felt like I was losing my mind. Why was all this shit
happening this weekend? My whole body tensed while my
heart pounded in my chest. My phobia of elevators came
back tenfold.
Breathe, I told myself.
Another loud thump of the elevator, then the lights went
out and the elevator jerked again. Margaret screeched, the
sound almost deafening.
“W-what… “ I couldn’t finish the sentence. There were
distorted images playing in my mind, yet I couldn’t place
them. The building shaking. The elevator stopping. Men
bursting through the ceiling of the lift.
My eyes raised to the ceiling, but there was nothing
there. It was like watching glimpses of events through a
thick fog and trying hard to make sense. I couldn’t connect
any of them in my mind.
“Power probably went out.” My head snapped to both
men. They were both calm, unperturbed by what was
happening. Not me! I’d lose consciousness any second, my
breathing becoming rapid. But somehow not enough
oxygen entered my lungs.
Let me be stuck anywhere, just not in the elevator.
Anywhere… desert, war zone, just not the damn elevator.
My breathing was labored and getting worse with each
second.
Then self-preservation kicked in. Without a second
thought, I shoved both of them out of the way. They were
strong guys, much taller and bigger than me, but I guess
adrenaline kicked in. My frantic fingers started pushing on
all the buttons.
“Hello? Oh God,” I chanted, my lips trembling. “Hello?”
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Damn,
it’s not helping.
I pressed my forehead against the panel of the elevator,
desperate to calm my racing heart while my ears buzzed.
“Stairs. Should have taken the stairs,” I muttered
breathlessly to myself. If we had, we wouldn’t be in this
predicament.
“Calm down,” Margaret tried to soothe me. “It will
probably be a minute or two, five tops.”
With shaking hands, I started pushing all the buttons
again. I glanced up towards the ceiling, almost expecting
someone to barge in.
“Five? I can’t hold my breath for five minutes.” My
breathing got erratic. “Oh my God. I can’t breathe.”
It felt suffocating. I put my hand on my chest, heart
pounding under my palm. I tried to use all my training to
ease out the panic, the fear gripping at my chest right now.
It wasn’t helping. The buzzing in my ears became louder
and louder. My panic kept increasing with each breath as if
fed by the oxygen, my eyes darting between three of them.
“Can you breathe?”
“Áine, calm down.” My eyes snapped to the man. There
was a note of command in his voice, piercing through my
panicked brain.
The elevator jerked with a loud bang again and the train
of my thoughts evaporated. I broke eye contact with him,
frantically searching out Margaret. It was hard to see her
and sweat beaded on my forehead. Jesus Christ, I’d have a
heart attack like this. The past mind blowing orgasm and
craving for his expert hands were completely forgotten.
We were still not moving.
The emergency lights came on in the lift. “Oh, this is
kind of romantic,” Margaret announced.
I swallowed hard, again and again. The chokehold of this
panic made it hard to swallow. I didn’t find it romantic at
all. If anything, deadly was what came to mind. Threats
lurked in elevators. It was stupid to think that but the
irrational fear kicked in each time I even thought about an
elevator.
“Should have taken the stairs,” I repeated, while black
spots swamp in my vision. In. Out. In. Out. I slid down the
wall to the floor, pulled my knees up and buried my head
between my knees. My lungs contracted and refused to
release.
The fact that I was probably giving them a full view of
my exposed legs, thighs, and underwear was irrelevant. My
hands wrapped around my knees, pulling them closer to my
chest.
My body rocked back and forth, trying to soothe myself.
“It will be fine.” I felt big hands take hold of my cold
fingers. My head snapped up to those dark eyes. Suddenly,
nothing mattered but his gaze. The comfort in them felt like
a lifejacket while drowning. He crouched down, too, taking
the empty spot next to me.
His lips curved into a smile and the tightness in my
chest loosened a bit.
“I’m Hunter,” he said. “Didn’t think you’d see me again,
huh?”
 He remembers me, my heart rejoiced but it was short-
lived.
The elevator jerked again. My eyes widened and my
breathing hitched. I stared at the door of the elevator,
praying someone would come for us. But the door remained
closed.
“H-Hunter, that’s a pretty name.” I called him my
perfect stranger for the last two years. My hottie. It will be
an adjustment to think of him as Hunter. Breathe in.
Breathe out. “I don’t know if it suits you though,” I
mumbled, my voice breathless like I ran a marathon. And
not in a good way either.
I tasted panic on my tongue. “I can’t breathe. You think
the elevator will snap? Maybe we are too heavy?”
I could kill men, fight them, slice and dice them, but
stick me in an elevator and all my training dissipated. I
became a scared little girl.
“Calm down.” His voice was commanding, but my panic
refused to recede.
I was hyperventilating. “Oh my God.” I squeezed his
hand, my fingernails digging into his skin. “I should have
taken the stairs.”
“Butterfly, breathe,” Hunter demanded, his voice
smooth, like rain on the quiet, spring evening. Like on one
of those days when you could smell the fresh rain and taste
it on your tongue. It was soothing.
Butterfly. Only one person called me that. That
nickname, Butterfly. It only came in dreams. Yet, now this
man called me by that nickname. I haven’t dreamt it in
such a long time. A man and his voice lingered in the fog.
How would Hunter know that nickname that I only dreamt
about?
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
“I- I really hate elevators,” I muttered, my words shaky
and my chest tied up into a constricting knot. “It’s okay,
though. Right? We are all scared of something. I’m scared
of snakes too,” I babbled like a mad person. “Maybe I hate
elevators more than snakes.” A hiccup escaped me while I
stared at his hand marked with the rose tattoo. The hand
reaching out to me in my dreams had a tattoo too.
Rose petals. It was the reason I selected The Rose
Rescue for the name of our company. The hand marked
with the rose petals kept reaching out to me in my dreams,
pulling me out of my nightmares.
“I can’t remember. I don’t know why I can’t remember,”
I mumbled, my gaze on the floor of the elevator. “I saw you
somewhere.” All my comments and thoughts were
incoherent. “Not in the club. Somewhere else.”
“You know him?” Margaret’s voice didn’t pull my gaze
away from Hunter. I finally knew his name.
“It’s okay,” Hunter soothed me. I raised my head to stare
at those brown eyes. His voice was soothing but his lips…
there it was again, that sinful smile. Absent-mindedly, I
noted he was rubbing my back and I still liked his touch.
“Keep talking.”
I took a deep breath in and exhaled. Oxygen was
working its way into my lungs, the knot slowly loosening,
but fear kept the words flowing through my lips, without
any reservation I usually held. Every ounce of bravery was
gone, probably fled through the tiniest crack of this fucking
elevator.
It felt good not to be repulsed by a man’s touch. He
made me feel normal, though he might be the only man on
this planet that could touch me without causing my body’s
retaliation.
“Everyone keeps talking about it, being great and all.” I
raised my head again and met his dark gaze. “But for me, it
makes me sick to even think about it. I freeze every time; I
literally feel sick to my stomach. I pretend it’s okay, that it’s
normal, but it’s not.”
The tiny sane piece of my brain ordered me to stop my
rambling because I wasn’t making any sense.
 “What are you talking about, Áine?” Margaret
questioned me again, confusion in her voice.
My throat was closed in, hurting to breathe and talk.
Part of my brain understood how stupid I was being, but
the rest of it was just reacting.
“It’s okay,” his voice comforted. “Keep breathing.”
He sat on the floor, his back against the wall, right next
to me. He was way too big to be sitting on the floor, in his
custom fitted, expensive suit but having him next to me
made me feel safe. I could feel his warmth seeping into my
bloodstream, calming me.
“Did we meet a long time ago?” I asked, the question
slipping through my lips without a thought.
“You are the prime minister’s daughter,” he replied. It
wasn’t an answer, but maybe he knew Dad and I met him in
passing.
“He’s dead,” I muttered. “Killed.”
“I know.”
“You worked for him?”
“Not exactly.” None of this made any sense.
“Your suit will get dirty,” I remarked for no good reason.
“It looks expensive.” My eyes lowered to my outfit. “This
dress should be five bucks considering how little material it
has.”
His full lips tugged upward and another string in my
chest loosened, allowing me to breathe.
My eyes dropped to his lips that curved into that
confident, sinful smile I remembered from two years ago. I
knew how good those felt on me, so did he. There was no
fooling him. I wanted them on me again. It didn’t matter
that he was a mere stranger. For some reason, he felt
familiar and safe. Besides, it would be a good distraction,
unless I suffocated kissing him. Though it wasn’t a bad way
to go.
His face loomed in front of mine, so close I could smell
his woodsy cologne.
He was sanity and safety wrapped in one.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eleven

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

Á ine Evans was even more breathtaking today than she

was two years ago. Her shimmering blue eyes could
shatter a man with just a glance. Her extraordinary hair
color made her stand out from any other woman I had ever
known. But even more, it was the fighter in her that I loved.
I saw it in that young girl I rescued. I still saw it in the
grown up woman.
Two years ago after she walked out of my club, Callahan
almost lost his sanity when my bouncer kept the Irish out of
the club. Áine’s safety was his top priority and he always
worried she’d run into either my father or half-brother in
my club. Of course, I’d never allow either one of them into
my clubs nor around her. Or any woman for that matter.
Once Jack Callahan cooled off after our initial
conversation, he became slightly suspicious. He demanded
to see surveillance of what Áine and Margaret did in my
club. I refused him. He wasn’t happy about it, but I wasn’t
ready to reveal my cards. Truthfully, when I strode onto the
dance floor, the surveillance cameras were the furthest
thing from my mind. That was what you got when you made
moves with your smaller brain that zeroed in on a woman.
And without a doubt, Áine was mine. The only reason I
didn’t insist Callahan deliver Áine two years ago was for
her protection and to avoid the war. I had to ensure Benito
wouldn’t become a threat to her. Not that Callahan would
ever let me have her. He was clear that Áine would never
be for the taking - by any man in the underworld.
Her parents wanted to keep her outside this world,
despite the fact her mother married the head of the Irish
mafia. Not that I could blame them. They wanted the best
for their daughter.
Well, so did I.
Since the day we saved her, I’d check on her every once
in a while. I usually used Nico and his resources. Not to
stalk her but just to ensure she was safe. Until that night
she ran into me at the club, I never thought our paths
would cross again.
The moment our lips connected I knew she was the one.
If I had to burn down this world, kill, and cheat… I'd do it.
Gladly.
She was mine. Just like Nonno said - it took him a
second to realize my grandmother was his.
My life over the past eleven years consisted of building
my empire and taking down my father’s. I went from being
a hired killer to owning a multitude of thriving businesses. I
did it all for one purpose. To be the top dog in the food
chain. But there was also an underlying reason why not
succeeding wasn’t an option. This woman gave me that
purpose and two years ago she became the main reason.
I knew Margaret would be here this weekend with her
girlfriends. This hotel was mine, and I made sure to
arrange for her and Áine’s room to be on the penthouse
level. My intentions hadn’t unfolded yet, but nonetheless, I
wanted them as close to me as possible. Margaret Callahan
was my insurance. I learned later that Margaret invited
Áine’s boyfriend to join them. I couldn’t stand the weaselly
motherfucker who worked with Marco. I had to ensure Áine
was as far away from him as possible. Destroying him
would be an added bonus.
 “Your suit will get dirty,” she mumbled, her face pale
from fear. I purposely gave her my middle name that barely
anyone used. I didn’t want to chance either her or
Margaret recognizing me or connecting me to the Kings. “It
looks expensive.” Her bleary eyes full of panic lowered to
her own dress. “This dress should be five bucks considering
how little material it has.”
She looked amazing in it. A total knockout. Once she sat
on the floor, panic closing in around her, her dress hiked up
to her thighs, revealing a lot and not enough. Luca kept his
gaze averted, offering his respect. But the jackass that I
was, I kept catching glimpses of her smooth, pale skin.
She would be mine soon anyhow. She had been mine
from the moment her hand reached out to me in that
wretched cell where we rescued her from.
Fuck, just thinking about it sent rage through my veins.
Her black and blue body from the beatings she endured,
her school uniform spattered with blood. I was surprised
she couldn’t remember us. Yes, it was eleven years ago, but
something like that you’d never forget.
“I hate when people touch me,” she admitted. I raised
my eyebrow. She let me touch her two years ago. Even now,
I was rubbing her back. She was so distressed, she didn’t
even realize what she was saying.
Áine closed her eyes, and I got the sense she was
focusing on her breathing.
The elevator jerked again and I cursed silently. Áine’s
eyes snapped to me, as if she was seeking comfort.
“It’s okay,” I assured her.
“Breathe in,” she muttered low to herself. “Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.”
Margaret lowered herself and ended up sitting on the
floor too. “It would have been more comfortable if we went
with your wardrobe choice, huh?”
She was trying to make her cousin comfortable. A
wobbly smile came to Áine’s lips. “Yes, I think so.”
 Her voice was soft and melodious, different from the
little girl’s I remembered. Even different from two years
ago.
Last time we didn’t spend much time talking, I thought
wryly to myself. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her
short dress, but at least she wasn’t freaking out anymore.
“Do you- do you think we’ll run out of oxygen?” She
seemed brave, tough even. This fear was irrational, and I
wondered what drove it. There had to be something behind
it.
“No, we are fine,” I told her firmly. “Lifts are not
airtight.”
Her blue eyes, color of the clearest Caribbean seas,
locked with mine as if she sought truth in them. Then she
nodded, almost as if she trusted me.
“Maybe we should go back to our room after we get
out,” Margaret offered. “We can take the stairs.”
Áine’s face was very expressive, at least to me. She
wanted to say yes, but shook her head instead. “No, that’s
okay. It’s your night.”
I stood up and noted Áine’s eyes following me. I offered
her a smile and hoped it was a passable one. I rarely
smiled, the muscles on my face for it long unused. Though
with Bianca, my newfound sister, and my nieces in my life,
it was slowly becoming something normal.
It must have worked because she smiled back. Whether
she knew it or not, she was strong. I knew it eleven years
ago, and it was more evident today. Maybe she made
herself forget what she endured, but she was here…
strong, beautiful, and prevailing. Just like her namesake.
I looked up her name once since it was so unusual. In
Irish mythology, Áine was a goddess who took revenge on a
king that deceived her. And the few drawn portraits of the
goddess all portrayed her as a red-haired beauty. Ironic
really! Since our family’s last name was King, and I was
about to deceive this beautiful red-haired woman, the name
fit her perfectly.
The elevator shook and her eyes widened. But then the
lift started descending, slowly and smoothly.
I offered her my hand. Her eyes watched it warily,
reminding me of our first meeting and something in my
chest squeezed.
Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba bum.
It took three heartbeats before she took it hesitantly. I
watched her pale skin against my tan complexion and
somehow we fit. Her hand was cold against my warmth,
petite against my large palm. Truthfully, Áine Evans was my
opposite in every way, but in all the right ways.
Mine. The words resonated in my chest and nothing
would extinguish it but my death.
I helped her up and she quickly pulled her dress down
with her free hand.
She took several breaths in and out before she spoke up,
offering an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for freaking out,”
she muttered embarrassment all over her face.
“Don’t mention it,” I told her, offering her another smile.
“Bet your ass, I won’t,” she retorted with a small smile.
“It’s bad enough that four of us know it.”
Her hand was still in mine. I kept waiting for her to slide
her palm out of my grip, but she hadn’t pulled away. Those
mesmerizing eyes watched me, as if she was searching for
answers.
The elevator door beeped open and a group of people
were in front of it. It was Margaret’s bachelorette party
ready for their Chippendale performance, which
unbeknownst to them, was canceled. A loud cheer exploded
as soon as we were spotted.
“Finally,” one of the girls exclaimed. “Are we going to
the Chippendale show? I can’t wait to see some ass
shaking.”
Margaret nodded enthusiastically.
 “Are you guys okay?” Another girlfriend inquired. “We
heard the elevator got stuck.”
“We are great,” Margaret announced. “Who’s ready to
get lit?”
Another loud explosion of cheers. Margaret was always
eager for a wild party and well known for behaving even
wilder. Sometimes even borderline reckless.
“Áine, who’s that?” A man’s voice sounded almost too
high-pitched. I recognized Chad Stewart. I hated the
fucker. He and Áine had dated for the past year with the
support of her mother and reluctant support of Callahan.
Nobody would be good enough for Callahan's little girl, but
his instincts were spot on.
Chad eyed me and Luca, then returned his gaze to her. I
wondered if he was her type. Unlike me, he was slim
although fit. More of a clean cut politician face than I’d
beat your ass into the ground face. Yeah, the latter was
more me. There wasn’t anything clean cut about me.
Except maybe my wardrobe on the night I hadn’t killed
anyone.
“Oh, this is Hunter.” Áine kept her voice light. Watching
her like this, you’d never guess she had a panic attack ten
minutes ago.
“Why are you holding hands with him?” He tried to
sound calm, but I sensed a prissy tone under his fake, civil
smile. “I thought you didn't hold hands.”
I kept my expression tight, fighting the urge to break his
perfect, little nose and smear his blood all over it. We’d see
who’s the pretty politician then.
His eyes shot glares at both of us. Protectiveness swam
through my veins, and I had to hold back the urge not to
wrap my hand around his throat. Jesus, if only his glare at
her made me want to kill him, there would be a lot of dead
people.
Chad Stewart was known in my father’s circles very
well. The New York state’s attorney had no scruples and
was a dirty politician. These days he worked with Marco a
lot, getting rich from kickbacks, turning a blind eye to
Marco’s smuggling of women.
This weasel just earned himself more attention by me.
I’d have to ensure he didn’t do something stupid. Especially
towards this woman. I wanted to keep Áine away from this
creepy rat. He gave me all the wrong vibes. I didn’t trust
him before he got involved with Áine, but since he started
dating her, I knew he was up to no good.
Áine’s gaze lowered to where our hands were still
connected and her brows furrowed. She must have been so
distracted, she didn’t realize we still held hands. Does she
really feel that comfortable with my touch, I wondered.
She quickly pulled her hand out of mine. “He helped me
stand up. We were sitting on the floor while waiting.”
She stepped away from me and towards Chad.
Resentment at her taking a step away from me washed
over me like bitterness. I didn’t like it. She belonged by my
side, not his.
Throwing me a glance over her shoulder, her big striking
eyes met mine and she offered a soft smile.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly, tilting her head at me
and Luca, then turned her attention to Chad.
As they walked ahead, I noted he wasn’t touching her.
They walked close to each other but not like lovers. Each
time his sleeve brushed accidentally against her, she put a
bit more space between them.
Interesting.
Luca and I exited the elevator, keeping a small distance.
We went in the same general direction as the group but
none of them mattered to me except for Áine.
“Why doesn’t she remember us?” Luca asked in Italian,
under his breath, so nobody else could hear our
conversation.
“I don’t know,” I responded in the same language.
 “Are you sure your plan will work?” There was a hint of
displeasure in his tone. “It seems cruel to set her up like
that.”
Maybe my little brother was right, but the alternative
was unacceptable. Giving up Áine would never be an
option.
I glanced at Margaret at the other end of the lobby,
already drowning shots. “It will work,” I told him firmly. I
caught Luca’s lingering gaze on her, a glint of something
akin to dry amusement in them. It would seem my own
brother had some kind of fascination with Margaret.
Chad and Áine were just a few feet away from us,
walking towards the party.
“What the fuck?” I heard Chad hiss in a low voice. “You
were holding his hand!”
“I told you,” Áine’s voice was calm, unwavering. So
unlike what happened in the elevator. “He helped me stand
up.”
Together those two made a good looking couple. He was
closer to her in age. He just turned thirty-two, his ruffled
blonde hair against her fiery red hair. He wasn’t overly big
compared to her small frame. Her background being the
prime minister's daughter gave her a perfect political
upbringing. It would certainly help his career.
Over. My. Dead. Body. Actually better yet; over his dead
body.
“We were supposed to be working on this relationship,
not you touching other men.” He sounded like an insecure,
jealous prick. The need to smash his face grew by the
second and my hands fisted, ready to punch the fucker
right here in the lobby of my hotel.
“Don’t,” Luca murmured in Italian. My brother knew me
too well.
I saw more than heard her take a deep breath and then
exhale. “Please don’t start this now. This is Margaret’s
party.”
 “Fuck her,” he spat. “I don’t even like her. She is bad for
the press.”
Áine didn’t even miss a beat. “But I like her, and I don’t
give a crap about the press. If you are worried, leave.”
Atta girl. Okay, so I knew eavesdropping was rude, but I
didn’t give a shit. I’ve done worse shit and this was for a
good cause.
“I thought we would work this out.” He must have not
expected such a quick dismissal.
There was a heartbeat of silence and then Áine spoke in
a soft voice.
“Chad, I didn’t invite you here. Margaret did.” She let
the unspoken meaning of it linger in the air. Then she
continued, “I went to the gym this morning.” I could see
Chad’s profile as he turned to look at her. He seemed
annoyed. “I stopped by your floor to ask if you wanted to
join me.” I could only see his profile, but it definitely paled
a few shades. He would have to work on his poker face.
There was guilt written all over it. “I saw Bridget coming
out of your room.”
I disliked this dirty politician beforehand. Now I just
detested him. If he even thinks to touch her, he dies. After I
spend days torturing him and bleeding him dry.
“Áine, let me explain-”
She cut him right off. “There is nothing to explain, Chad.
Let’s just both move on and at least we can remain
friends.”
“I don’t want to be friends.”
I saw her shoulder slump, but she quickly got herself
together
“I guess then we won’t be friends,” she retorted softly. It
rubbed me the wrong way that she would even bother to be
friends with a weasel like that.
Chad grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, her body
flushed to his. Her free hand pushed against his chest. His
hand snaked to her ass and she froze, terror and disgust
clear on her face.
Fury shot through me like burning oil. Without a second
thought, I stepped forward and pushed him away from her.
He tumbled backwards, almost falling onto his ass. That
would have been a sight, seeing the state’s attorney on his
ass at my feet in the middle of the hotel lobby. I wasn’t a
saint, but he didn’t deserve to even wipe dirt off my shoes.
“The lady doesn’t want your advances,” I gritted, furious
he thought he had a right to touch her. “Give her space.”
Áine lost her balance. I quickly wrapped my arm around
her, steadying her, and once I was sure she was balanced, I
reluctantly let go. I really wanted to keep her in my arms,
protect her.
I glared at him, and he was smart enough to have seen
something in my eyes because he instantly retreated.
“You good?” I questioned her.
Her gaze connected with mine and my heart thundered.
Those deep blues took my breath away every fucking time.
She was the only person on this planet that managed to do
that to me with a single glance.
“Yes, thank you.”
She turned her gaze to Chad, causing a little streak of
jealousy through me. Why the hell am I jealous?
I knew facts about her. I had known what she studied,
where she lived and worked, places she visited with her
friends. She wasn’t overly outgoing, her personality
reserved. She seemed composed and tightly reined in, with
the exception of her fear of elevators. Her personality
wasn’t exactly the one I usually enjoyed in women. The
women I took to bed were loose and wild. Nonetheless,
nobody and nothing ever affected me like her. Our
encounter two years ago set something in motion and
ignited the need only she could sate. I wanted to know
every inch of her body and soul.
 “Goodbye, Chad.” Her farewell to her boyfriend was firm
and final, making it clear she would not be seeing him
again.
“Áine-” he started to say, but she’d already turned
around and started walking away without a backward
glance.
“You will stay away from her,” I growled at Chad, anger
simmering my words.
His eyes flashed in anger. “Who in the hell do you think
you are?”
I took a threatening step forward and he leaned
backwards. “I’m a man that will tear off every one of your
limbs, one by fucking one. And I won’t rest until you are six
feet underground.”
“W-what?” he stuttered, glancing around. Probably
looking for his bodyguard, but he was long gone. We paid
him off to get lost after obtaining information on why Chad
was here. It turned out, Margaret’s invitation was just a
convenient cover up. “This is none of your business.”
Chad’s primary reason for the visit was to come and
hand select the kidnapped women with Marco, my half-
brother. Except, the whole fucking warehouse vanished and
the women with it.
“It is now.” He wasn’t scared enough. Yet. “Get within a
mile of her ever again, I will ensure your career is
destroyed. Then I’ll hunt you down and thrive on listening
to your screams as I torture you for days.” Then to ensure
he understood what I meant, I added, “I know you enjoy
torturing women and rest assured, you’ll get it back
tenfold. I can’t wait to show the world what a worthless
little weasel you are.”
It wasn’t the right time to reveal all my cards. Not yet.
But damn if I’d let him anywhere near my woman.
I watched him open his mouth, then close it and open
again but nothing came out of his mouth. He looked like a
gulping fish out of water.
 “O-okay.” His voice trembled and finally he understood I
meant business. He scurried away in the opposite direction
of Margaret’s bachelorette party.
“Have one of our guys keep an eye on him until he
leaves town,” I told my brother in Italian.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twelve

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

I t was almost midnight, and from my office on the

upper floor, I watched the greed on people’s faces as
they gambled their life savings away. The plan was
unfolding, but now that we were close to the goal, I was
getting too restless. Too eager.
I couldn’t wait to walk down the aisle and lock the final
piece of the puzzle in its place. With the Irish on our side,
the last bit of power Marco held onto would disintegrate.
Yes, he had some kind of alliance with Petrov but the latter
was never on my alliance list. It didn’t matter, they’d both
meet their untimely death soon.
My father had been causing disarray among all the
crime families - Italians, Bratva, Irish, cartel - for years.
The uneasy, short lived truce with the Irish went up in
smoke the second Callahan learned that Benito King
kidnapped and tortured Áine, the daughter he didn’t know
he had. All the years of bloodshed, just for my father’s sick
tendencies and hunger for power.
And while I despised him for it, the point that it brought
Áine into my world wasn’t missed on me. Either way, the
man was dead. Good riddance. I detested any similarities to
that man. Even one as innocent as my hair color. Deep
down, I always reluctantly admitted that Luca and I looked
more like our father than our mother. Just as Bianca knew
it. Though I had to admit, my little sister handled her
parentage better than I have.
Our brother, Marco, was no luckier. He looked like a
skinny, freaky version of our father. He had always been
better suited to be Benito’s right hand man, though he was
younger than Luca and I. It wasn’t his skillset that made
him better for it; it was his flavor of cruelty.
Both Benito and Marco had the same kind of thirst for
blood and cruelty. Thankfully, neither Luca nor I inherited
that. I was the oldest, then Luca came about, but we were
illegitimate so he considered us a commodity, his personal
killers for hire. Except, he never paid up.
While Benito never spared Luca nor I of his torturous,
cruel lessons, he never bothered dishing them onto Marco.
Fucking prick was pampered. Maybe Benito saw himself in
the kid and thought that was good enough. When my
mother was alive, she tried to shelter me from our father.
Once she had Luca, something just died in her. Benito had
broken her irrevocably. A few years later, she had left us in
favor of ending her life. It left me to care for Luca and
shelter him as she had done with me.
If Benito’s wife wouldn’t have gotten pregnant shortly
after my own mother, he would have dumped his wife and
married my mother. I wasn’t sure if it was a strike of good
luck or bad luck. It certainly wasn’t good luck for my
mother. It ended up costing her years of misery and
ultimately her life, which made me hate Benito even more.
Hate in a little boy’s body was a dangerous thing - it
simmered until it erupted if not handled.
Benito strung her along, knowing that my mother’s ties
to the powerful mafia family in Italy could prove useful one
day. Fool! Nonno would have never supported him. He
wasn’t family, never would have been. Even if he put a ring
on Mamma’s finger.
 My poor mother. Her beauty was her weakness. It got
her noticed everywhere she went. It didn’t take long once
she arrived in New York for Benito to spot her and sweet
talk her into his bed. She was too young, too naive. She
gave him years before giving up.
Now, we had to end it. Once and for all. Bianca took care
of Benito. It was our turn to take care of Marco. End these
auctions for good. Clear the entire East Coast of trafficking.
And then finally live our life. Enjoy our hard earned family
and friendships.
The alliances we’d made would ensure that peace and
rules remained in place.
I played my cards and waited. Now I’d make Callahan
pay up his debt. Patience was a virtue, I was told, and I
intended to have it pay out hefty dividends.
My office door swung open and my brother strode in
towards my desk. The large see through glass behind me
gave me the entire view of the casino and the dance floor. I
owned both the hotel and casino where Margaret held her
parties. She and her bachelorette party were moved here
after their sudden cancellation of the evening performance.
The group was wild and loud, switching between dancing
and gambling. Chad had left the hotel and town. It didn’t
take him long. Coward!
I watched Áine on the dance floor with Margaret. She
moved gracefully, just like last night. Margaret was
hammered. And despite the latter’s stumbling and helping
her remain on her feet, Áine moved smoothly and with
finesse. A picture of grace. Her little dress drew in
everyone’s eyes. Her red hair was a stark contrast against
the sparkly material. She danced with a soft, amused smile
listening to Margaret’s rambling from the looks of it. The
panicked woman from the elevator was completely gone.
How many walls did she hide behind?
Margaret was intoxicated. And that was putting it mildly.
She gambled away a hefty sum, and I knew Callahan would
probably give me a call at any moment. Just like he had the
previous night or night before. If he couldn’t control his
niece, what made him think I could. But in his mind, she
was my intended bride, so I had to feign interest and
endure his rant. She needed a firm hand, except it wouldn’t
be mine.
The only one in the group that wasn’t drunk and didn’t
gamble was Áine. She kept herself together, avoiding men
and their attention at all cost as she glided around the
dance floor. I watched as yet another man tried to cut in
between her and Margaret to dance with her, but she
turned her back to him and pulled Margaret off the dance
floor. She behaved like a true queen.
My queen.
“You sure you want to do this?” Luca asked. My brother
never questioned me. Ever! Yet here we were - twice in two
days.
“Yes.” I was positively, absolutely fucking sure. We
would bring peace to New York and beat down Benito
King’s legacy and our pathetic brother once and for all.
Best part was Áine.
Both our gazes darted to the window, watching
Margaret throw her head back and laugh.
“We have a man lined up to seduce her?” I questioned
Luca.
Luca’s jaw tightened and his hands clenched into fists by
his side. “Yes.”
He didn’t want to admit it, but he had a thing for
Margaret Callahan. It was unlike Luca not to go after a
woman. It made me wonder why he kept his distance from
her. It couldn’t be because she was a Callahan. It wouldn’t
have mattered if she was the president's daughter. If he
wanted her, he would have gone after her.
“Luca, stai bene?” I questioned my brother. Are you
good?
His jaw ticked, but he kept his eyes locked on the ladies.
 “Sì.” Yes. Clipped answer.
He wasn’t good. Something was bothering him, but I
couldn’t resolve it if he said nothing.
“What is bothering you?” I tried again. When you’d
taken care of someone for so long, it was hard to stop.
Muscles in his neck strained as he clenched his jaw
hard. I waited patiently for him to find words. Luca was
free with his charms, but when he was pissed off, words
disappeared. I failed to teach him how to express his
feelings, probably because I wasn’t that good at it myself.
“Having a man in place for the Callahan girl,” he finally
started talking. “There has to be another way.”
My little brother was right. There were other ways, but
none of them would be as efficient as this one. This one
would break the contract and require immediate
ramification.
“There are other ways,” I agreed. “But we don’t have
time for those.”
As many women as he had, I was surprised that one
woman even concerned him. Luca had a habit of changing
women frequently. I guess his self-imposed rule of one
night max would require you to go through an unhealthy
number of women.
“You sure you won’t start a war with Callahan?” Luca
challenged. It was a risk, but a necessary one. Callahan
would never give up his secret daughter to me. He owed
me a debt, and he opted for Margaret to settle it in the
form of my bride. The question was whether he’d rather
default on it than pay me in the form of his love child.
Áine and Callahan were close. From the moment he
found out about her, she was under his protection. When
her mother and Callahan got back together, he protected
Áine with everything he had. It surprised many crime
families, but they knew if they attempted something with
her, there would be a hefty price to pay. Likely with their
lives.
 The marriage arrangement between Margaret Callahan
and myself was kept a secret and only a handful of people
knew. It was necessary in order to keep anyone from
targeting the women.
“It will work out,” I told him. “It has to. Can you go
chase down the man and make sure he’s in place?”
Callahan was tired, he wanted out, but he worried about
his nephew taking over. He was still too young. I was
willing to back him up, let Callahan enjoy his old age with
the woman he loved. Connecting the Callahan family and
ours would mean security and safety on the East Coast. I
fully intended to carry through to the end. Luca and I had
sacrificed a lot over our lifetime - our youth, dreams, our
innocence. Our hands were tainted with blood.
Our father meant us to be his killers, his dirty errand
boys, his leverage… nothing more, nothing less. But we
rose above it. We were still killers, but now we killed for
ourselves and our own made family. Our family, our friends,
our allies. Our half-brother could never understand that
sentiment. He was just as selfish as our father was and
power hungry above all else. He would continue
destroying, torturing until his dying breath.
He’d never see this one coming. Stupid bastard never
saw anything coming. Luca and I built a unique empire
with the alliances we’d established. Our territories
stretched far and wide. If you weren’t with us, you were
against us and none of us… not Luciano, not Nico, nor
Alessio, Raphael, Alexei, Sasha, or Vasili would stand for
someone doing human trafficking in our territories. The
entire East Coast, and some, was practically ours.
The last chess piece was being played. New York would
be Luca’s and mine. Unfortunately for our brother, he
fucked us over, along with Benito, one too many times. It
was time to bring him down. Marco, his corrupted state’s
attorney, and any other associate of theirs would be
destroyed.
 They sealed their fate with this latest auction. Nico was
using all his resources to chase down information. Poor
Bianca. It meant he quadrupled the security on her and the
twins. She was probably suffocating, but to her credit, she
didn’t complain. She just joked around with us that she
might need a vacation back at Nonno’s. She liked him as
much as Nonno liked her.
But it wasn’t the right time for vacation. Nico wouldn’t
risk anything happening to them. Despite the way he went
about forcing our sister to marry him, Bianca and Nico
worked well together. She was good for him and he
worshiped her. If he didn’t, Luca and I would kill him.
Luckily no need for that extravagance.
My eyes roamed the floor and I spotted Áine sitting at
the bar. Margaret was nowhere to be found. Even from
here, I could see men throwing glances her way, hoping to
get closer to her.
Don’t. Fucking. Think. So.
Glancing at my brother who was ready to depart, I asked
him one more time, “Will you be okay, Luca?”
He nodded, a gleam of determination in his eyes, and I
pondered what it was for. “Perfect,” he drawled, his lips
curving into a smile that spoke of stupid decisions.
But my mind was too focused on a certain flamed-haired
woman to think it through. Without another word, I left the
room and took the stairs. I had to force myself not to jump
them like goddamn Tarzan going for his Jane. That would
be one way to freak people out.
Just as I neared the bar, I watched the man’s hand reach
for her ass; Áine unaware what was happening behind her.
Blind red rage shot through me. I grabbed his hand before
it could land on Áine’s fine ass, and I gripped it tightly.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I snarled into his ear.
Then to make sure he understood I was serious, in one easy
motion, I broke his wrist. His scream could be heard even
through the loud music.
 Áine’s head snapped my way, and she watched the entire
scene with wide eyes. For a second, I cursed myself since
she probably didn’t like to see violence. But she didn’t even
flinch and no words slipped through her lips to defend the
guy.
“Consider yourself lucky I didn’t break every bone in
your body,” I growled at the fucker who thought he could
touch what was mine. Over his head, I signaled the
bouncers to come over. I pushed the idiot off the barstool
and he fell onto the ground. “My men will see you out.”
The same second, one of them grabbed him by his collar,
then lifted him and carried him out like trash. The man
forgotten, I turned to face Áine.
“Why are you here alone?” I asked, aware my voice
sounded too harsh. She cocked her eyebrow but remained
silent. “Where is Margaret?”
Fuck. I wasn’t supposed to know her name. Thankfully,
Áine didn’t pick up on it. Jesus, if others saw me slip like
this, I’d never hear the end of it.
She shrugged, reaching for her drink. “Dancing.”
My eyes darted around the dance floor. Margaret wasn’t
there.
“You can’t be sitting at the bar alone,” I grunted. “Men
will get the wrong idea.”
Great. I sounded like a nagging husband.
“I can take care of myself,” she retorted, not losing her
cool. Then her lips curved into a sheepish smile. “Except in
elevators. Then I lose my shit.”
She tried to joke but the anguish in her tone wasn’t
missed on me.
“Is this seat available?” I asked her, though it was a
moot point. I knew it was available; I had just thrown the
man that sat next to her out.
She chuckled. “It is now.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” I offered, sitting down next to
her and my leg brushing against hers. She didn’t pull away.
 Lifting her drink up in the air, she answered. “I already
have one.”
I signaled the barista who immediately approached. “I’ll
have a scotch and another drink for the lady.”
“Another pineapple juice?” she asked, his voice
incredulous.
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop a grin from spreading
across my face. “Yes, and fresh pineapples.”
Without another word, she went to grab our drinks.
Though she might have rolled her eyes, I wasn’t sure. I was
too focused on the beautiful red haired woman in front of
me.
“Go ahead and laugh,” she mumbled next to me, once
the barista was out of earshot.
“I wouldn’t dare,” I told her. “Besides, you know what
they say about pineapples, right?”
She blushed, the bright color evident even under the
dimmed lights and I got my answer.
“Mmmm.”
I chuckled.
“Áine!” Someone called out from the dance floor and I
followed Áine’s gaze. “Come dance with us, maid of honor.”
Throwing a glance my way, Áine downed the rest of her
drink and stood up.
“Duty calls,” she said, smiling. “See you around.”
Before she could leave me like dust in the wind, I took
her hand. She paused, her eyes lowering to my hand
wrapped around her tiny wrist. I didn’t bother removing it,
and she didn’t attempt to tug it away.
“Dance with me then.” I should have asked, but my
words sounded more like a demand. I didn’t want to chance
a refusal though something told me she wouldn’t hesitate
to refuse me if she didn’t want to dance with me.
I stood up, towering over her small frame. Her posture
was relaxed, unlike the tension in her shoulders when Chad
brushed against her accidentally. I didn’t want to appear
threatening to her, but I refused to put distance between
us. If she didn’t like it, she’d step back or push me away.
Though to my delight, she didn’t seem to mind.
Her eyes slowly lifted until our gazes met.
“I went back,” she murmured softly. I raised my eyebrow
in question, not understanding what she was talking about.
“To the club,” she clarified, clearing her throat. “I went
back several times,” she admitted.
I closed the small distance between us and bent my head
so our lips were inches apart. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
So fucking sorry. Otherwise, I would have kept her. War
or not.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Thirteen

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

I could see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his

voice. Maybe I was a fool, but I believed him. And I
wanted him. I was twenty-five years old, and he was the
only man that made me crave physical closeness. A touch.
Our gazes locked, the entire room faded into the
background. I couldn’t hear anything but the thunder of my
own heart. My skin burned all over, the heat from his gaze
flushed across my skin.
“Your drinks, sir.” The barista’s voice interrupted the
moment. “And fresh pineapples.”
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
The woman’s eyes traveled over me and then back to
Hunter, coming to her own conclusion. Then a wide grin hit
her face and she gave me two thumbs up before she turned
around, and left us to it. This time I actually rolled my eyes.
It was hard to resist. Though it was nice to have her
support, I mused.
I drowned my first drink, then reached for my new one,
ignoring the tray of pineapples.
“So, you are familiar with the pineapple theory?” Hunter
wasn’t letting go of the stupid pineapple discussion. I’d
rather he took me to his room and see how far we could go
before I broke down. Or maybe this man could make me
forget the world and we’d go all the way.
“What theory?” I gave him a wary look as I tipped my
drink onto my lips. He wouldn’t dare say it out loud. Right?
I mean, it is just bad etiquette. Everyone knows that myth,
though whether it is true or not… Well, how in the hell
should I know!
“About the pineapple,” he added nonchalantly, still
standing super close to me. He could melt me into a puddle
with his heat. “It makes for a tasty pussy.”
I choked, almost spitting my drink out. So unflattering,
Áine, I scolded myself silently. My cheeks singed, and I was
sure they turned crimson. I could practically feel fire flush
through every inch of my skin. There might even be steam
coming off some parts.
He just smirked at me, knowingly, and I narrowed my
eyes on him, though I couldn’t keep a straight face. My lips
curved into a smile; because for some crazy reason, I found
it to be such a turn-on. Me!
Not a hint of panic. Nothing! Nada. Just fluttering
feelings and slight embarrassment.
I cleared my throat slightly uncomfortable at the
questions swarming my mind. After all, I was born British.
Americans were less embarrassed about these things than
the British. Or maybe it was just me that was too uptight.
Whatever! I might as well find out as much as I could.
“Does it work the other way too?” I asked curiously, while
every inch of my skin warmed.
Surprise flashed in his eyes, then he threw his head
back and laughed, the sound hearty and deep. His dark
eyes danced with amusement, and I decided right there
and then I liked seeing him laugh; though if I was to bet, I’d
say he didn’t laugh a lot.
“Only one way to find out,” he said, traces of laughter
still in his voice. The words were suggestive, but coming
from him, it didn’t sound creepy or cheesy. I raised my
eyebrow, doing an internal check for the upcoming panic.
Nothing.
I shrugged, appearing nonchalant. It wasn’t like I would
give him a hint that I was new at this. “I’m game,” I
announced in a soft voice.
My heart raced with adrenaline. I couldn’t believe I was
doing this. I wasn’t a timid or shy person by any means.
And I knew my worth. But I also knew I had issues that for
some reason just refused to ease over the years. But with
this man, Hunter, those issues didn’t seem to exist.
“Ladies first then.” He pointed to the tray of pineapples.
I grabbed a forkful and put it into my mouth. I loved
pineapple so it wasn’t a hardship at all. It was kind of silly,
and I had to wonder which one of the two of us was crazier.
Both of us stood there with a tray full of pineapples on
the bar in front of us, like we were starting some kind of
pineapple competition.
“Your turn,” I told him. “Grab your own fork. I hate
sharing silverware.”
His lips tugged upwards. “I’m making a note of that,” he
remarked and followed suit, grabbing his own fork. My
heart fluttered at his words, but I refused to put too much
value into the meaning of them.
Instead, I watched him raise forkful to his mouth. I
never thought watching a man chew would be so sexy. Yet,
as I watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed,
wetness pooled between my thighs. This man's neck was
beyond attractive. Even without the ink. Add all those
tattoos and he was irresistible. I fought the urge to taste
him, but it hung heavy and thick in the air.
His gaze was firm and unwavering. All I had to do was
drown in his dark eyes and everything faded, but him. I
wanted him. For me. It might have been selfish of me but at
this moment, I didn’t care. He was offering a glimpse of
normalcy, and I’d give him my soul to taste it. The passion,
his touch, his hot lips.
 Maybe I shouldn’t be flirting with him, considering what
had happened earlier with Chad. Pineapples and
insinuation aside, I had never felt any of this with Chad.
Besides, Chad had his fun, and I was sure he had plenty of
women to console him.
The only one that seemed to work for me was this guy.
So I was all in. I put another forkful into my mouth.
With each heartbeat, I grew more turned on and he
wasn’t even touching me. Maybe pineapples were good for
women’s hormones, I scoffed in my head.
“How long do you think it takes?” I asked him boldly.
Yes, I was a virgin, but it didn’t mean I was innocent.
“Should I google it?” he suggested, his lips curved into
that attractive smile.
I shook my head.
“Agencies track searches,” I told him, teasing him. “Can
you imagine how embarrassing it would be if it got out?”
His smile spread across his face, his white teeth flashing
briefly. After feeling crippled by advances and flirting for
years, suddenly it felt freeing, thrilling, and exhilarating to
flirt with Hunter. It felt empowering.
My eyes traveled over the room to check for my cousin,
but she was still nowhere to be seen. Feeling strangely
bold, I returned my gaze to Hunter.
“Are you here alone?”
He nodded, while my heart raced at my boldness.
Unlike other men, Hunter seemed to let me dictate the
next steps. Not that I was overly experienced, but I was
certain from everything I’ve seen that men tended to push
women into their beds. And I didn’t mistake Hunter for a
weakling. Everything about him screamed power, ruthless,
and a leader. The way he sat, spoke, towered above most of
the men in the room.
“I am.”
Hopefully, I wasn’t reading him wrong. I was ready to
just go to his room or mine. It didn’t matter to me, as long
as he touched me.
“You want more pineapples?” I questioned. Come on,
make this just a little bit easier on me!
“I’m done with the pineapples. I’m ready for dessert.”
His voice was low and deep, the insinuation of dessert
making me combust into flames. God, I liked his voice. It
was low, gruff, and so sexy, washing over me like waves of
the sea.
“Me too,” I said, my eyes lowering to his hands. They
were big and strong, the ink of the rose ironically
reminding me of my side gig with The Rose Rescue. I
barely knew him, but I craved those hands already. They
felt safe.
John, my right hand man, helped me during the takeover
of Dad’s organization, eliminating the old company and re-
starting a new one. Basically, the same organization with
the new name. He said the old name was too known. When
he asked me to come up with the name… The Rose Rescue
came up effortlessly.
The rose on the hand that kept reaching out to me in my
dreams.
“Áine,” Hunter said, and I raised my eyes to him.
“Pineapples… we can just leave it at sharing pineapples.”
Did he think I was nervous? Backpedaling?
“Your room or mine?” I asked, without hesitation.
Hunter’s eyes never moved from my face, like he was
studying me, learning every single thing about me just from
my expressions. It could be unnerving… except that it
wasn’t. And the reasons behind it intrigued me. I felt they
were important, buried deep somewhere in my brain yet so
far out of my grasp.
He stared at me for an intense five seconds or minutes, I
didn’t know. It felt like the longest stretch of time.
I held my breath in anticipation of his answer. I’d be a
liar if I said I didn’t want this. This connection with him
was real, raw, and I wanted to grab it. Explore it. Go all the
way. For me, this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity,
and I certainly didn’t intend to waste it.
He nodded, as if he was satisfied with whatever he read
on my face. “Mine.”
Thank God, I sighed mentally.
His hand came around my waist, and I realized we
remained standing the entire time, eating pineapples.
Usually I was aware of my surroundings, the necessity of
my extracurricular activities. But around Hunter, I tended
to just drown in his presence, in the best way possible.
“Let’s go,” he said softly, his eyes burning with
something feral. But I wasn’t scared. Far from it.
I followed his lead and we made our way out of the bar
and across the hallway. My step faltered seeing the
elevator, but before I could open my mouth, he stirred me
to emergency exit stairs and relief washed over me.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
“Little exercise won’t hurt us,” he justified with that
smirk, and I exhaled a breath of relief. He just earned
himself another point with his thoughtfulness.
“Hold on,” I stopped. “Let me take my shoes off.” He
took my elbow and held me as I slipped off my heels. “Okay,
I’m ready.”
We were taking two stairs at a time, like both of us
couldn’t wait to get to his room. I knew I couldn’t. Damn
fear of elevators. We could have been there already. Hunter
was in great shape, at least it looked like it. His breathing
never changed even five flights in. Mine didn’t either, but I
couldn’t help but be impressed.
I couldn’t resist adding some humor to it. “It won’t
deplete all our energy?” I teased. “Ummm, for other stuff?”
A deep chuckle echoed in the hallway. “I could be on my
deathbed and my energy for the other stuff wouldn’t be
depleted.” He took my hand into his and pulled me to the
right. “This is our floor.”
 The hallway to our floor was empty and the door closed
behind us with a thud. Adrenaline rushed through my
veins; my skin was taut with anticipation. My breasts felt
tight and heavy, excitement buzzed through my veins. The
steps to his hotel room seemed to take forever.
“Áine, are you alright?” Hunter’s voice startled me out of
my anticipation haze.
My head snapped sideways, watching him. He better not
back out of this one.
“Yes, why?” I breathed out, while the most delicious
pulsing thrummed to life between my thighs.
His eyes lowered and I followed his gaze. I was
squeezing his hand so hard, my nails dug into his skin.
Instantly I relaxed my grip. “I’m sorry,” I murmured,
rubbing the nail marks with my other hand. Great, now I
feel like an idiot.
His fingers took my chin, his grip firm yet gentle, forcing
me to meet his dark eyes. “We don’t have to do this. We can
just watch a movie.”
I scoffed with a shaky smile. Fuck movie, I wanted to say
but swallowed the words.
“I want to,” I said quickly, then immediately clarified.
“Do this. No to the movie. Yes to sex.” His gaze told me he
wasn’t quick to believe me. Any other man would have
ravished me on the steps, the moment we got to the first
landing. Yet, this one… Hunter must have been better than
most because he seemed keen on considering what was
best for me. I had to make him understand. “It’s just…” I
cleared my throat uncomfortably. “It is not something I do,”
I added in a soft voice. “First and last time was with you
two years ago. I don’t do hookups.”
Gosh, I hope I didn’t sound like a total moron. All
Margaret did was hookups and men didn’t think any less of
it. But for some reason, it was important to me that Hunter
understood it wasn’t something I did.
 He nodded with a serious expression on his face, and
strangely, I felt like he really got it. He understood me.
We stood by the end of the hallway, the double door of
his hotel room opened to reveal two guards standing there.
My brows arched in surprise. Usually Jack had guards, but
he was head of the Irish mafia.
Who was this guy?
“Thank you, Nelson, Fabrizio.” It must have been their
dismissal because the two nodded and as we walked in,
those two left, the doors firmly shutting behind us and with
it, my thoughts on Hunter’s identity.
We watched each other, and something thick and heavy
flowed between us. The man hadn’t even taken a step
towards me yet, and my breathing hitched. The anticipation
drummed in the rhythm of my heartbeat. I was way
overdue for this and years of inexperience came crashing
down along with eagerness to get caught up. Be like other
women my age. And Hunter could give me all that. And
more. Oh, so much more. I knew it as well as I knew my
name.
His gaze dropped to my lips then returned to his eyes
and something sinful flashed in those dark depths. My
heartbeat sped up into turbo mode.
“I thought about you.” His words, a rough admission,
filled the air between us, and I swore my heart burst into
flames. Jesus, was this what love songs and love stories
were all about? I saw the love Mom and Jack shared, but I
couldn’t quite grasp it. Until now. Such simple words, but
they ignited fluttering feelings. Beginnings of something
fragile, yet powerful. Was it really as simple as that?
“I thought about you too,” I admitted softly, taking a
step closer. “A lot.”
One, two, three breaths and he took my wrists, raising
them to place them around his neck. His face was close to
mine, his lips a single warm breath away. I breathed him in,
the masculine scent of him, what I remembered from two
years ago. His scent was soothing and exciting, invading
my lungs and becoming forever ingrained in my soul as
him.
My chest heaved up and down, my breasts brushing
against his suit. The friction felt good and that ache, the
starvation for a lover’s touch, came back tenfold. Two years
ago, when he gave me my first taste of the sensation, he
left me starving. For so much more.
I craved him more with every single day that passed by. I
learned to suppress it, but now that he was here, it was a
desperate need that demanded to be sated.
Lowering my eyelids, I watched his mouth with an
aching need pulsing between my thighs. His lips were a
breath away. So close but not close enough. The heat and
scent of him made me shiver with need.
Healing.
The thought was sudden and irrelevant, yet somehow
important. He was key to my healing, to the broken pieces
of me I couldn’t understand or remember.
He pressed against me, so much bigger and stronger
than me. He radiated power, his face hard lines and his
inked hands that could easily snap me in half. Yet, I had
never felt safer.
I pushed myself against him, following my instinct. He
wanted me to be sure, so I would show him. He lowered his
head, his nose skimming my neck and I tilted my head to
allow him full access. My body never surrendered to
anyone with ease like this.
Closing my eyes, I let go of everything and just felt. His
body so close to mine. His strength. His warmth. His scent.
His hips pressed against my belly, his hard cock
evidence of his desire. He wants me too, I thought
victoriously. His lips skimmed my neck as he breathed me
in, inhaling my skin like it was his oxygen and every part of
me shuddered with the intensity of it.
 Hunter’s hand snaked around my lower back and
lowered further, his large palm spread across my ass,
gripping it tighter before hauling me up. Our bodies were
flushed together.
His lips were a whisper away, grazing against mine.
“You want this?”
Fire burned in his eyes. He could read my body even
better than me. He understood it and played it like a
fiddler. And I trusted him, so much that it should scare me.
It didn’t.
“Yes,” I breathed.
One word. It was all it took for Hunter’s control to
unleash. He clashed his mouth against mine, plunging his
tongue past my lips. Our mouths fought for dominance, our
breathing heavy. My back pressed against the wall, my
hand wound itself into his hair, tugging at the strands as I
pressed myself harder against him, grinding against him.
I needed more of him.
With this man, I was normal. My body never froze or
fought his touch. No matter what. Our groans mixed, both
of us gasping for air as he shoved himself inward, and I felt
his hard erection pressing against my stomach.
His lips slid down my jaw and trailed a path of kisses to
my throat. He licked the hollow between my neck and
lower jaw. Every inch of my skin burned for more of his
touch. My whimpers became moans and I arched my back,
desperate to be closer to him. This need for him was
clawing at me, eager to be satisfied. The way he kissed me,
hard and possessive, told me he felt the same kind of
urgency.
His hand trailed down my body, over my chest, the touch
feather light. Lingering over my breasts, I arched myself
into his touch, encouraging him. He pinched my nipples
through my ridiculously revealing dress and a loud moan
echoed through the room. Encouraged, he lowered his head
and sucked my nipple into his mouth. I groaned at the
sensation, leaning my head back against the wall and my
eyelids pressed tightly together as I relished in the
moment. My fingers gripped his dark hair hard, scared he’d
stop. Or even worse, my body would shut down and panic
would overtake.
The second his teeth gently bit my nipple through the
material a lusty whimper left my lips. This has to be just
lust, a boiled down lust that exploded after years of non-
functioning. Then why did it feel like something so much
more? So much stronger than just raw desire.
His hands skimmed down my body, his palms warm
against my skin.
“Áine…” His voice was raspy, hoarse and the woman in
me that I thought was broken was glad that he was just as
impacted by this as I was. “You are so beautiful.”
Peeling my heavy lids open, I found his darkened gaze
almost reverent on me. His mouth latched onto my lips and
my legs wrapped around his waist as he carried me into
another room. A bedroom, I realized.
The moment he put me down on the mattress, he shed
his clothes. My own dress hiked up and scrunched around
my waist. I went to take it off when his words halted me.
“No, I'll take it off,” he rasped, his eyes on fire. “I want
the privilege of stripping you naked. Baring every inch of
your skin to me.” My skin went cold, then flaming hot. No
complaints here. “Yes?”
I liked that he asked, rather than assumed. It pulled at
some invisible strings inside me, I couldn’t understand it
myself. But each second around him made me fall deeper
and deeper into his safety web.
I nodded and raised my hands, allowing him to swiftly
take the material off me and land soundlessly on the
ground.
My eyes traveled over his strong, naked body, the ink
marking his upper chest, neck, forearms, and hands.
 He was beautiful. All man, hard and strong. A toned
magnificent chest, six pack abs, muscular thighs and his
cock… good God. I hadn’t seen many, but I was fairly
certain that Hunter was very well equipped. A sweet,
throbbing ache pulsed between my thighs.
Scooting closer to him, I trailed my hands down his
body. I almost expected my body to freeze at any moment
but it never came. This unconditional physical trust was a
novelty. I intended to take advantage of it. After all, I was
way overdue.
His abs were like marble under my fingertips. My hand
traveled lower and lower until I took his hard shaft into my
hand. The moment my fingers wrapped around his smooth
cock, it jolted in my hand as if it was straining for more of
my touch. My heart raced, pumping blood through my veins
and my ears buzzed from the adrenaline.
I licked my lips, locking eyes on it as I tentatively
stroked his erection, from base to tip in slow movements. I
wished I had more experience so I could ensure his
pleasure, though he seemed to like what I was doing.
He watched my every move through half-lidded eyes. I
slid off the bed and lowered myself onto my knees. Am I
really doing this? I never thought I’d willingly kneel in front
of anyone, and here I was eager in front of this man.
Practically a stranger.
I braced my hand on each hard ass cheek of his and
parted my lips, taking him into my mouth. The moment the
head of his cock slid between my lips, pushing deeper, I felt
him shudder.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes darkening into black pools.
His reaction sent a surge of power rushing through my
veins, and I let the instinct lead me. His hands reached to
my scalp, pulling the rubber band out of my hair, letting it
cascade down my back. Then his fingers slid into my hair
and gripped a fistful. The move possessive and hot. Holding
my mane in his grip, he pushed it aside and I realized he
moved it off my face, so he could watch.
The thought of it soaked my panties and a small moan
vibrated through my throat. The throbbing ache between
my thighs was the sweetest pain. At this rate, I’d orgasm
while I was giving him a blowjob.
He pushed himself deeper, hitting the back of my throat
and my eyes watered. This man was so in tune with me that
he instantly paused, concern on his face. I dug my fingers
into his flesh, urging him on. I was unwilling to give up this
power trip. This sensation.
He remained still, giving me a moment to get used to his
size. Once I adjusted, I slowly started licking and sucking,
then built up to a rhythm, my head bobbing up and down.
“That’s it,” he grunted. “Fuck!”
I moaned, my mouth full of his cock and the throbbing
ache between my thighs intensifying with each second. He
started moving his hips, thrusting into my mouth faster and
harder. His ragged breaths and my noises were the only
sounds filling the room, as I watched him lose control. And
there wasn’t a better sight on this planet.
He came hard, spilling into my mouth and I swallowed
his cum. It tasted salty, musky and… tangy? Considering I
had never done that, I had no idea whether the pineapples
worked. But I loved the taste of him, and I had the
inclination to say it had nothing to do with pineapples.
His cock slipped off my lips with a soft pop sound. His
scent was all around me - in my nostrils, my lungs, even my
bloodstreams. Who in the hell needed drugs when you
could get so high on this man?
“I think pineapples were a great idea,” I murmured, my
eyes raising while I still sat on my knees. It was almost a
worshiping position, but the look in his eyes worshiped me.
Pulling me up by my shoulders, he laid me onto the bed,
my back hitting soft pillows.
 “My turn,” he growled and a shudder rolled down my
spine.
I was so aroused, my panties were soaked. He hooked
his fingers in them and slowly pulled them down my legs
then discarded them. His head was so close to that
throbbing ache that I was tempted to lift my hips to close
the distance. He inhaled deeply, his eyes closing for a
moment.
“You’re aroused,” he murmured the statement.
“Yes.”
“Did you like me fucking your mouth?”
Another shudder, ache between my thighs. “Yes,” I
breathed out, parting my legs wider. “I loved it.”

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Chapter Fourteen

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

I raised myself onto my elbows, shifting my weight and

meeting her gaze. Her eyes turned a darker shade of
blue, the color of the deepest oceans, and I swore they
glimmered like sapphires. She was magnificent, and I could
feel my cock starting to harden again at seeing her naked,
sprawled on the bed.
For me.
“Spread your legs wider for me.”
She immediately obeyed and my mouth watered seeing
the evidence of her desire. She was dripping wet, totally
soaked for me. I parted her lips with my thumb and exhaled
against her clit.
I nuzzled my face further between her thighs, pushing
my tongue into her entrance. I held her gaze as I circled
her clit with the tip of my tongue and her body shuddered
with need, the attractive flush coloring her pale skin. I
gently nipped at her sensitive bud and her hips raised off
the bed. A loud moan vibrated through the room. She was
so fucking responsive to me, it was addictive. And she
tasted just as I remembered. Sweet and mine.
I lapped over her clit and her hips jerked upwards. Her
fingers scraped over my scalp, holding me hostage between
her thighs. Like I would go anywhere. For the past two
years, this was all I craved for. This was all I worked for.
My mouth latched onto her clit and her hands gripped
my hair tighter. She enjoyed this, her hips lifting off the bed
and pressing her pussy into my face.
She thrashed underneath me, her body tensed as I
continued circling my tongue over her clit, inhaling her
sweet scent.
It didn’t take long before she was grinding against my
mouth, chasing her own orgasm as I lost myself in the
delicious taste of her. There was no letting her go; no
matter what. She was mine and I was hers. I knew two
years ago that a fleeting moment with her would never be
enough. I needed her forever, to always have her with me.
It was my one selfish act, and I refused to let her go.
My name slipped through her lips on a moan and
nothing had ever sounded better. She came apart hard,
bucking against my face, and I held her ass up to my face
so I could continue lapping her up. Her body shuddered
against my tongue as she kept grinding against my tongue.
And suddenly I realized. My whole life, all the shitty
years, they were all worth it because they led me to her.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Fifteen

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

G oosebumps scattered up my spine and through every

inch of my skin. I saw stars behind my eyelids as my
pleasure reached higher and higher. Finally! I wanted this
man. Forever! This feeling forever. As my orgasm subsided,
I slowly peeled my eyelids open and met his gaze. And holy
hell.
Our eyes locked, my fingers still in his black hair, his
face glistening with the evidence of my orgasm. It was the
most erotic sight I had ever had the fortune of glimpsing.
My orgasms belonged to him. From my first one to my
last one. No questions asked.
The intensity in his eyes blazed, matching the inferno in
my veins. He crawled up my body, leaned in and brought
his mouth to mine, pausing close enough where his lips
were barely brushed against mine. He remained still,
waiting for me. For my permission. I closed the gap
between us and as I took a sweet pull on his lower lip, I
tasted myself on him. Heat that still pulsed through my
veins ignited and spread like fire.
A pure, unadulterated need that only he could sate.
He just gave me the best orgasm of my life, and I was
ready for another. It would never be enough with him. Our
kiss turned deeper, and I melted into him as his tongue
danced against mine.
My pulse drummed between my legs as he lazily
explored my mouth, sucked on my tongue. He savored me
like a delicacy. His arms braced on the bed on each side of
me, but his weight on me was delicious. My hips arched up,
rubbing against his hard body, feeling his hard erection
pressing against my stomach. The air pulsed in sync with
our heartbeats; two hearts beat as one.
I ran my nails down his back, holding on to him, urging
him on. My breathing grew ragged as I writhed underneath
him, panting and moaning his name against his lips. I
whimpered, moving my hips up, my body telling him what I
wanted. His hand slid down my body, caressing my nipples.
“Hunter, please,” I breathed against his lips. “Don’t
make me wait.” I waited so damn long.
I opened my legs wider, the message that I needed him
inside me loud and clear. He positioned himself at my slick
entrance, his shaft hard and hot. Anticipation coiled within
me like hot metal and the ache between my legs demanded
to be eased. I could feel the tip of him pressed against my
throbbing sex. He pushed the tip of it inside me, and for the
briefest second, my body tensed.
He immediately stilled. No, no, no. Don’t stop! I wanted
to scream.
My eyes raised to his dark pools, to find him watching
my face.
“Hunter?” I breathed out softly.
He shifted up slightly, taking in my naked body, then
returning back to my face. “Just say the word,” he
murmured. “And I’ll stop.”
It was ridiculous that I needed his assurance at my age.
And his words meant more than the whole world. I didn’t
want him to stop, though I felt I should probably give him a
fair warning.
 I swallowed hard, worried what reaction my next words
would bring.
“This will be my first time,” I murmured, slightly
embarrassed. If he started questioning me, I worried the
moment would just vanish into smoke.
He watched me for two heartbeats that seemed to go on
forever. Then understanding passed his expression and his
forehead lowered against mine.
“It will hurt a bit,” he warned. It would be comical if it
was happening to anyone else but me. I fought and killed,
dreamed of bloody screams and scenes that nightmares
were made out of. And this wonderful man was warning me
that my first time might hurt.
It will be worth it, I wanted to say, but instead I pulled
him closer, urging him on. My nails dug into his back as he
entered me slowly, his size stretching me. There was so
much pain. A slight burning.
“Relax, Butterfly.” His voice was strangled as he moved
in deeper, slightly harder. I just wanted him to push in all
the way, instead of doing it slowly, letting me adjust. I
watched as his forehead creased and his eyes turned
darker than midnight. I forced myself to relax, focused on
his face.
He moved in even deeper, the pain subsiding and being
replaced with the pleasure. He pushed beyond my barrier
and hit that sweet spot and it was unlike anything I’d ever
felt before.
“That’s it, Vita Mia.” He called me his life. I didn’t speak
Italian, but I understood that endearment. So many feelings
hit me at that moment, it almost choked me. I wasn’t even
an emotional person. Yet, at this very moment, I felt so
much it was almost overwhelming.
He started to move faster, pumping in and out of me.
Each time he pulled out and then thrust back in, my breath
left me on a whimper. He was overwhelming me in the most
delicious way, the feelings in my heart growing stronger
with each heartbeat.
I lowered my gaze and watched our bodies move as one.
There was no room for shyness, no room for escape, just to
give into him. This man that finally brought me a lover’s
touch, I hungered for. He gave me the world and he didn’t
even know it.
Intensity grew with each pump, his stomach muscles
tightened with each thrust and the power in his eyes
burned right through me. I burned right along with him.
My nails dug into his flesh as pleasure surged inside me.
It was right there, building and building. It would erupt like
a volcano any second. Another thrust, the grind of his
pelvis against me, and I burst into a million stars.
Shuddering violently, I let go, giving into the sensation and
counting on him to catch me. His thick cock moved at a
piston pace and though I had never been fucked before, I
knew nobody would have ever fucked me so thoroughly. So
completely.
I cried out in pleasure and my entire body trembled,
shudders rolling through my body as my insides clenched
around his cock. He moved faster and harder, going in even
deeper. The next second, he slammed into me hard and
held himself deep inside me.
“Fuck. My Áine.” Yes, his. His eyes shut tight and all of
his muscles seized as he spilled himself inside me. His head
tilted back as my name slipped through his lips on a
guttural moan and he continued to slide slowly in and out,
releasing his body of every single drop of cum. Inside me.
The stillness followed, the silence broken by our labored
breathing and my body still shuddering with waves of
pleasure. This was wow. Better than I could have ever
imagined! Hunter was still buried deep inside me, his
weight on me an odd comfort. I didn’t realize my eyes were
closed until I felt his lips on my forehead.
 I had never felt closer to someone like this before. My
eyelids felt heavy as I opened them.
“How are you feeling?” he rasped, his eyes firmly on me.
He studied me for any hints of distress but there were
none. I was in orgasm heaven.
I met his gaze and smiled. “Like I just had the most
amazing sex.”
He lowered his head and kissed my lips softly, the
tenderness piercing through my soul and straight to my
heart.
“Ah, Vita Mia,” he murmured. “This is just the
beginning.”

H unter was fast asleep , his face tense even in his sleep .
The bedside lamp was on, throwing the glow over his
tanned skin. I listened to his even breathing, finding
comfort in it. My racing heart eased up with each breath he
took.
Another dream. Another nightmare. I learned a long
time ago to stop screaming through my dreams. If only I
could control my heartbeat that frantically pounded with
fear.
I focused my eyes on the man next to me. A complete
stranger, but he didn’t feel like one. He smelled wonderful,
the perfect mixture of the ocean and deep forest. Like
freedom and safety. It calmed me unlike anything else. It
was better therapy than seeing my therapist.
The sheet came up to his lower torso, covering the
bottom half of his body. My eyes roamed over his golden
chest full of tattoos and scars. I had to fight the urge to
reach out and touch his skin, feel the scars under my
fingertips. Hunter was beautiful despite the scars scattered
across his chest. Somehow those made him harder and
rougher but not in a bad way.
He must have had a hard life, yet he offered softness.
There was something to be said about a man like that and
made me love him even more. My heart skipped a beat.
Was it possible to fall this fast for someone? Maybe I was
just biased because he was the only man that could touch
me without my body and mind crumbling into panic.
I shifted out of bed, keeping my movements silent and
slow. There would be no sleep tonight. Once the nightmare
appeared, sleep became impossible. I found my panties and
dress hanging off the coffee table. Throwing a glance over
my shoulder, I found Hunter still sleeping soundly. I quickly
put my panties on then followed up with my dress.
I had no idea what time it was, but I worried Margaret
would lose her shit if she came back to the room and found
it empty. Grabbing my shoes, I tiptoed out of the room and
the suite with shoes in my hands.
It was a walk of shame, but I didn’t feel ashamed at all.
It was the best night of my life. Hands down. I’d repeat it in
a heartbeat.
As I opened the door to the suite, I found two men
standing there and instantly my cheeks burned red. Okay,
okay. Maybe the walk of shame was more about people
seeing you rather than you walking.
Though I’d give it to these two men. They kept their
expression neutral, not a single emotion on it.
I cleared my throat and offered a smile. “Ummm, good
night.” I wanted to ask them to relay a message to Hunter,
but suddenly, it felt kind of awkward. Say what? The guard
waited as if he expected me to give him a message, which
in turn made me wonder how many times they took a
message from a one night stand.
“More like good morning, Miss,” he replied when I said
nothing else, and with a quick nod, I strode away.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Sixteen

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

I entered the room I shared with Margaret to find her

frantic on the phone. The second she spotted me, she
barked into the phone.
“She just came in. We’ll be there in forty minutes.”
I cocked my eyebrow, striding to my phone, which I left
in our room last night. To my horror, I found twenty miss
calls from Margaret and John, as well as way too many
texts.
“Where in the hell were you?” she screamed. Okay, this
was what happened to teenagers, not twenty-five year old
women that just lost their virginity. “I was going out of my
mind. Worried sick.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why? You do this all the time.”
“Yeah, but you never do. The girls said they saw you
walk away with some scary looking dude.”
I scoffed. Hunter was a gorgeous looking dude. Scary,
yes, but also a gorgeous looking scary dude. Why did they
let out the most important adjective?
“I hung out with someone,” I told her, but I couldn’t
keep the grin from spreading across my face. We did so
much more than hang out, but I’d keep that piece of
information for myself.
 “You what?” Margaret’s expression was comical. She
was right, I never did this, and I couldn’t wait to see
Hunter again. I just left him for Pete’s sake and butterflies
fluttered in my stomach in anticipation of seeing him again.
“Anyhow, tell me what is going on?” I questioned her.
“And where do we need to be in forty minutes?”
“At the airport,” she muttered, an incredulous
expression still on her face. “John and the crew are picking
us up on the way to the Mexican border. There is a
shipment coming through Arizona and we are right here.”
Tension crept up my spine and into my shoulders. Would
the shipments of women ever cease? It would be nice if it
could all end, and the world was rid of men that thought
they could profit off the pain of others. The dark part of me
made me want to collect all those men and dish out pain
they bestowed on others. Days, weeks, months of torture
until they succumbed to feeling nothing but void and a dark
hole where only pain existed. See how the motherfuckers
liked that.
Forty minutes later, both Margaret and I climbed up the
stairs to the private jet, showered and geared up. Most
importantly, caffeinated.
“Why won’t you tell me?” she whined as we entered the
cabin. The private jet was owned by The Rose Rescue and
had no markings. It was the way I preferred it. Blending in.
When my father ran the organization, he had his logo
blasted all over the place. I wouldn’t repeat the same
mistake. As far as anyone was concerned, we were some
thrill seeking idiots traveling incognito. “I tell you
everything,” she grumbled.
“Where did you disappear to last night?” I asked her.
An attractive blush crept up her neck and into her
cheeks. When I blushed, I looked like a blotched tomato.
Margaret looked just cute.
“I asked first,” she objected, avoiding my eyes.
Gotcha ya! I thought smugly.
 “I’ll tell you when you tell me,” I told her as I sat down
in my seat.
A small protest came through her lips and her eye roll
followed. “Any other time I would,” she grunted.
I shrugged. I never usually asked with whom she hooked
up. She spilled it before I could even think to ask the
question. But today, she was tight lipped. Whoever it was,
she did not want him known.
“Okay you two,” John grumbled. “Are we going to talk
about wild nights and boyfriend bullshit or will we talk
business?”
Margaret and I shared a glance, rolling our eyes.
“Business,” we answered in unison.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Seventeen

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

“D o you ever sleep, brother?” Luca grumbled as I

woke him up. I charged into his bedroom a minute
ago and gave him five minutes to get ready. I sat on the
couch, giving him time to get his training gear on.
“We slept plenty,” I told him, slightly agitated. Okay,
maybe more than just slightly. The frustration burned
beneath my skin. Nico would have a field day if he saw me.
Or even worse Luciano. They’d laugh their asses off. Until I
beat them senseless.
Áine had snuck out of my room after our night together
and disappeared. Fucking disappeared! Nobody had seen
her all day yesterday. And last night was agonizing without
her. One night! It was all it took for me to get hooked. I
couldn’t get enough of her. The empty space in my chest
would forever be filled with her.
The memories from eleven years ago flashed in my
mind. The girl had grown into a woman. She was mine; she
just didn’t know it yet. I sensed the invisible scars she
carried around. I wasn’t even sure whether she knew
herself how deep they ran.
Fuck!
I was a light sleeper. Years of attempts on my life forced
me to sleep with one eye open. How in the hell did she
leave my room without me ever stirring? I worried about
her, whether she was okay after everything we did. I sensed
her tense at certain moments and I ensured to give her a
chance to stop me. What if I missed a sign?
Be a man worth loving, my mother’s words echoed in my
brain.
Not like Benito! I fucking hated any resemblance to my
father. I took a deep breath in, reining in my emotions.
Instinctively, I knew Áine trusted me. She melted into my
embrace, and as we kissed, my entire world faded out. All
the blood on my hands, past sins of my father… all gone,
leaving me alone with the woman I was born to be with.
“What is up your ass?” Luca muttered.
I shook my head, pausing my train of thoughts. “Let’s
put in our miles before we catch the plane,” I grunted as I
scanned through all the reports from our European
businesses and routes, waiting for him.
I’d much rather dedicate myself to a different kind of
exercise but this would have to do since my woman
vanished on me.
It was important we stayed in shape. Yes, we had men to
fight for us, but it didn’t mean I’d let myself get weak. Or
that they would fight all our battles. When it came down to
it, Luca and I could defend ourselves and not depend on
someone else. We were nothing like Marco who hid behind
his guards, 24/7. They even kept watch while he slept or
tortured innocent women. It made me sick to my stomach.
Ten minutes later, I pressed the button waiting for the
elevator. Each time I stepped into the lift now, it reminded
me of Áine from two nights ago and her panic attacks.
According to the receptionist, they would be leaving today.
So would we. With the warehouse leveled and kidnapped
women nowhere to be found, we had to get back to New
York and to our businesses. I had a team of men looking for
any trace of those women, yet they came up empty. Like
they vanished without a trace, and I worried they were
inside that building when it exploded.
More death on my hands, I thought wryly.
The elevator door slid open and both of us stepped
through, then the lift started its descent into the private
gym. I ensured every one of my hotels had a private gym
for us. Only my brother and I had access to those, along
with selected special guests. There was another gym for
general guests.
We walked in silence and I swiped my finger print across
the pad, the door immediately opening. That’s when I saw
her.
“Seems you have something in common with that girl,”
Luca mocked me.
My eyes locked on the woman on the treadmill. Áine was
jogging, wearing nothing but tight, sports shorts that
hugged her butt and a sports bra. She must have been at it
for a while, because sweat glistened off her light skin, her
red hair up in a high ponytail. She had wireless
headphones, watching a show on the screen.
Even from here, I spotted her butterfly birthmark.
Against her pale skin it was impossible to miss it. Somehow
it fit; she had gone through some struggles and prevailed.
Strong! The word that came to my mind each time I
thought of her.
Soft humming traveled over, her whole posture relaxing
despite her physical activity. She looked even younger than
her twenty-five years. I watched her maintaining her
running speed, her breathing even, and I wondered how
long she had been in the gym. It was barely five in the
morning.
My eyes roamed down her body. She wasn’t skinny but
had a strong slim body with curves exactly where you’d
want them on a woman. And now that I knew how those
curves felt under me, I was hooked for life and never
letting go. Being around her made me forget my blood
stained hands, my black marred soul, and bask in her
presence.
Áine was able to stir things in my chest that no other
woman ever had. She was all I needed in my life - my
redemption and my salvation. And over the last two years,
she has been my obsession. I longed to trace her curves,
touch every single inch of her body, and take my time
knowing her likes and dislikes.
Two nights ago, our touch was hungry and greedy. Next
time… and by God, there would be a next time even if it
killed me… I’d take my time with her.
Soft words stopped my train of thought, realizing she
was singing along to whatever she was listening to on her
headphones as she watched the show on the screen. The
tunes sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place them.
Is it too good to be true;
I want this so much…
I’m stuck in the blue
The words struck and the scene from two years ago
flashed in my mind. Same song, different place. The night I
realized why we ever crossed paths. I saved her and she
saved me.
Two years ago, I finally knew what I wanted from
Callahan. I should feel guilty about what I was about to do,
but I didn’t. Áine stirred something deep inside me that I
long thought dead. I wanted to preserve it; I needed to
preserve it. Otherwise, I feared I’d become just like my
father.
I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice she stopped
her treadmill and stepped off of it.
“Holy shit,” she exclaimed, stumbling back upon
spotting both Luca and me. “Where in the fuck did you
come from?”
I felt my lips curve into a smile at her not so delicate
words. “Through the door,” I told her. “Good morning.”
 Her hand was still on her chest, trying to calm her heart.
“You scared the daylights out of me.”
“Sorry.” Truthfully, I didn’t expect to see her so early.
This made it obvious that I only knew facts about Áine, but
not her habits and likes. Soon!
“Did you have a good workout?” Luca asked her. “I
thought this dude was the only lunatic that got up at the
crack of dawn to work out, but apparently there was
another lunatic around.”
She smiled, despite her hand still being on her chest and
slightly labored breathing.
“Well, you are up as well,” she retorted dryly. “So you
must be a lunatic too.”
Her eyes flickered my way, and honest to God, I wanted
to knock my brother out cold so I could stalk towards my
woman and claim her all over again. Right here and right
now! So much for taking it slow.
“He woke me up, so I’m not in the same bin as you two
looneys,” Luca muttered, bumping his shoulder against
mine. I was too tense though so he didn’t get the desired
effect. He stumbled instead of me.
Áine’s eyes twinkled as her gaze traveled to me. “I think
you should make him run an extra ten miles for calling us
looneys.”
I grinned. “I intend to.”
“I would totally watch,” she teased. “But I have to
shower and catch a plane.”
The image of her in the shower was totally what I didn’t
need. Yet, here I was imagining it anyhow. Goddamn it, I
had to talk to her first. I needed another kiss to carry me
over the next few weeks.
“I guess you are going to miss my torture session,” Luca
chuckled.
She strode towards us, pulling on a sweatshirt over her
head. “Unfortunately. Enjoy it though.”
 Her step faltered next to me, and I took her wrist into
mine. “You have a second?”
She tilted her head and nodded. I wished she swooned a
bit more. Typically, when I didn’t want it, I got it over the
top. Now when I wanted it, my woman was acting all
reasonable and cool.
“Can I come too?” Luca interjected and I shot him a
glare.
“Just get started with your miles,” I said. “I’ll catch up.”
“Sure you will, old man,” he spat back, flipping me the
bird.
Áine chuckled. “Let me guess. Brothers?”
I grinned, pulling her along through the door. “I’m the
better brother.”
“I’m sure,” she teased.
The second we were out of Luca’s sight and earshot, I
turned her around and pressed her back against the wall. A
soft gasp escaped her but the next second her hands
wrapped around my neck, pulling me closer.
“You disappeared on me,” I said, searching her eyes for
any hint of regret, worry of what we had done. There was
none.
“Sorry I snuck out,” she apologized, her face inching
closer to mine. “I was going to search you out but then
some stuff came up for work. I flew out just for the day and
came back well past midnight.”
Pressing my body against her, her breathing hitched
slightly and her eyes darkened into deep blue oceans. It
was addictive to watch desire linger in her eyes. The
irritation that burned hot over the last day finally
dissipated.
I pressed my hips against her belly, giving her a taste of
what she did to me. She slightly parted her legs, a soft
moan slipping through her lips. I inhaled her scent deep
into my lungs. I’d need it until she was mine. I grazed my
lips over her soft neck, trailing kisses along it.
 “I’m all sweaty from the workout,” she rasped, tilting
her neck to the side to allow me better access. So
responsive.
I trailed my tongue from the sensitive spot on her neck
and up to her chin, stopping close to her mouth. “You taste
and smell delicious.”
Grazing my lips against hers, she parted her mouth. Her
lips were so soft and warm, they’d melt the ice. I wanted to
keep her. To hell with all my plans and schemes.
“Hunter?” she murmured against my lips, her voice soft.
“Hmmm.”
“Do you live in New York?” I watched her for a few
intense seconds before nodding. She chewed on her bottom
lip, as if she was nervous.
“Say what’s on your mind, Áine,” I said.
“I live in New York too,” she murmured. “If you want to
get together or-”
One thing was certain. Áine Evans wasn’t the sit and
wait type of girl. I loved it.
“Give me your cell number.” She recited it, and I
immediately put it into my phone. “I’m sending you a text
so you have my number.”
She leaned into me, pressing a kiss against my cheek. “I
have something going on with my Mom and stepdad next
week, but other than that, my calendar is open. Unless
something urgent comes up with work. I’ll text you in a few
days,” she suggested with hope.
“You better.” Her soft lips fit perfectly against mine. Her
tongue hot and wet, her small sighs feeding my lungs.
She didn’t know it, but I would be seeing her a lot
sooner than she thought.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Eighteen

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

OceanofPDF.com
 Four Weeks Later

L uca and I pulled up in front of Nico’s large manor in

Maryland where my sister and nieces now lived
permanently. Bianca tried her best to convince Nico they
should all live in her Gibson Island house, but he refused. I
completely agreed. That place was a security nightmare
and after she was kidnapped late last year, he was even
more diligent on the security. He tightened the security on
every single property and around his family.
“How is my favorite sister?” I strode into the kitchen. It
was usually where Bianca spent most of her time. It was
amazing how easily she missed visitors when she was
engrossed in her cooking and baking. It was good Nico had
this entire place surrounded by guards.
I looked her over. She looked happy, practically glowing.
She and Nico had been married for barely six months. It
felt good to see them happy together. Slowly, the families
that we all always craved became reality. Nico had gotten
my sister who he had wanted for years. Luciano and Grace
worked out their years of troubles and were now expecting
another child.
Bianca came up to me, wiping her hands on a dishtowel,
and placing a kiss onto my cheek.
“Hello Cassio,” she greeted me. Her gesture reminded
me of my Sicilian aunts. “And Luca. My two favorite
brothers.”
She kissed Luca next. After everything that has
happened, Bianca let Luca and I be part of her and the
twins' lives. It meant more than she’d ever comprehend. We
became closer and somehow life became better. I hoped
with Áine it would get even better.
“You know, we are your only brothers,” Luca retorted
dryly.
“Do you know I’m your only sister?” She shook her head,
smiling.
“Touché,” I said. Regardless, she was our favorite family
relative. The twins and Bianca became important to all of
us.
She stepped back, observing both of us. “Is everything
okay?”
“Why do you ask that every time you see us?” Luca
rolled his eyes. He picked up that habit from our sister. She
was a worrier. I knew she couldn’t help it; not after the
shitstorm she went through since being thrown into our
world.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she murmured. “Maybe because
wherever you go, trouble follows. What is going on?”
Bianca might not have any relations to my mother’s side,
but she behaved like them through and through. Always
worrying about the people she loved; always feeding them;
always ensuring they were taken care of during the
holidays.
During her honeymoon to Italy, Nico and she stopped to
visit my family in Sicily. Luca and I had the pleasure of
babysitting our nieces, and it was one of the best weeks of
our lives. It worked out for the best. Nico and Bianca
needed time alone after her kidnapping; Luca and I needed
time to get our nieces used to us. Our family in Sicily was
enamored with my sister while my brother and I were
wrapped around our nieces’ middle fingers. Bianca had
been adopted and the fact she killed that bastard of our
father earned her extra points. Not that she was going for
them considering what her mother went through.
“Where are the twins?” I asked her instead.
I wasn’t about to tell her that I’d asked Nico to retrieve
every detailed piece of information on Áine. I checked my
soon-to-be-wife’s travel schedule over the last few years
and her business trips were frequent and not only for HC
Architecture. She spent a lot of time in unlikely
destinations, and I wanted to know why.
I had learned a few extra things about Áine since Las
Vegas. She was a workaholic, smart as a whip, and wasn’t
afraid of anything. Except elevators, as she liked to remind
me. We’d been texting frequently over the last four weeks.
Some days more than the others. And then she tended to go
radio silent. The first time she did it, I was ready to fly out
to Europe and tear Croatia apart, stone by fucking stone. I
thought something happened to her.
She was overseeing a project in Croatia, and then on her
second day there, she turned off her phone and put me
through hell. She had to do a quick day trip. At least it was
the excuse she gave me. Except, it didn’t add up. I owned
HC Architecture and there was no record of needed trips
during the project in Croatia. My gut was warning me Áine
was hiding something,
“In school.” She glanced at the clock, absentmindedly
rubbing her belly. I suspected I knew what it meant but
waited for her and Nico to finally say it. “Nico is picking
them up, so they’ll be home soon.”
She tilted her head at both Luca and I. “Why don’t you
sit down? I’ll get you something to eat.”
I rest my case, I thought wryly. Always tries to feed us.
But it meant she cared about us, so I’d take her infinite
feedings. My lips curved into a smile. Bianca had a way of
making us all feel at home. Always.
“No complaints here,” Luca muttered, flopping down. “I
love your cooking.”
 She chuckled, bringing both of us a lemonade and water.
“What the hell is this?” Luca muttered, eyeing the
lemonade like it was poison. I had to bite the inside of my
cheek. Nico told me Bianca became obsessed with Nonno’s
lemonade recipe and kept trying to replicate it. Needless to
say, everyone was sick and tired of lemonade.
Our sister completely missed Luca’s horrific tone and
smiled. “It’s lemonade. I think I’m pretty close to your
grandfather’s recipe. Try it.”
Luca groaned. “Isn’t there alcohol in it?”
“Haha,” she retorted dryly. “Just drink it or I’ll starve
you.”
She turned to fix our plates. Truthfully, I wasn’t much
into eating, but I knew Bianca would fidget until I ate
something. Ever since she moved into Nico’s place, it
always smelled like cookies on this side of the house. She
took it upon herself to bake cookies for all of Nico’s men.
Luca and I sat down at the little table in the kitchen. No
sense in having Bianca run back and forth to the dining
room. Besides, once Nico was here, I needed him and if my
sister was in the kitchen, less likely she would hear our
conversation.
As she fussed around, I noticed her glancing Luca’s way
several times. A question was coming his way.
“So how is everything in…” she trailed off, chewing her
bottom lip nervously. “-mmm, you know, in the mafia?”
She worried about the repercussions after what had
happened with Benito. Nico gave both Luca and me a heads
up that she was scared they’d come after Luca. Only one
person tried but he’d be dead soon.
“Nothing to worry about,” Luca told her with a wide
grin. “And certainly nothing your awesome cooking cannot
make better.”
It didn’t appease her. She had come to know Luca too
well and how he hid everything with his easy manner.
 “Well, I don’t believe you,” she retorted, a stubborn tilt
to her chin. “I swear Luca, if I find out there is some
backlash going on, I will blast a Facebook post stating I did
it.”
Both Luca and I choked on our drinks.
“Don’t even think about it, Sister,” I warned her, my
throat still raw.
“Just because you call me sister, Cassio,” she growled,
“doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do. I think with
my own head, thank you very much!”
I knew she did; she was fiercely independent.
“You are joking, right?” Luca asked her in a hesitant
voice. “You wouldn’t actually put an admission in writing.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe Facebook is not the
best place. But I’ll find a mafia blog or some shit like that.”
She narrowed her eyes on Luca. “You will tell me. Right,
Luca? I appreciate what you are doing, but if it means
doing it at the risk of your life, it is not right. We can figure
something else out.”
I cocked my eyebrow. “Like what?”
She shrugged. “Well, we could kill all the bad guys.”
My sister was on a roll today.
“Don’t worry, Sorella,” Luca told her with his charming
smile. He loved calling her sister in Italian. “If it comes to
that, we can team up and kill all the bad guys together.”
“I know you are dodging,” she muttered under her
breath as she carried on with preparing a plate of food. “A
blind man can see it.”
She was too perceptive. Maybe it was the gene we
shared. Perception, temper, her dark hair and dark eyes -
something we inherited from our father. Though temper
might be just the Italian in us. The hate for him, on the
other hand, we grew and nurtured on our own. Bianca was
the kindest and the best of the three of us and even she
hated him. There was something to be said about that.
 Bianca lowered the plates full of cookies and mini-
sandwiches in front of us. I raised my eyebrow. She went all
out. They were shaped in bowties. Luca immediately
shoved one into his mouth.
“This is good, Bianca,” he commended. “What’s the deal
with bowties?”
She shrugged, lowering herself on the empty chair. “Just
experimenting with different things. For Grace’s baby
shower.”
“I thought she was having a girl?” Luca blurted.
Bianca just rolled her eyes. Leaning backwards and her
hands back on her stomach, her eyes came to me. She had
a keen way of picking up on emotions.
I was always happy to visit my sister, but today, I really
needed Nico. I needed answers and Nico was the only one
with vast enough resources to be able to get those answers
for me.
“Is everything okay, Cassio?” she questioned.
For a second, I considered lying to her. I knew she’d grill
me to death once I told her I was about to get married.
“I’ll be getting married soon,” I ended up saying.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but before I could
say anything else, Luca chimed in. “Assuming she doesn’t
run away.”
I frowned. Luca could sometimes have such a big mouth.
Though right now, it didn’t escape me he did it on purpose.
Bianca’s eyes turned a few shades darker. “Am I to guess
that you are forcing her?”
“Not exactly,” I muttered.
“Yes,” Luca answered when it wasn’t exactly necessary.
She leaned back and disappointment flashed on her
face.
“What is it with you guys and forcing women to marry
you?” she muttered.
“I don’t fucking know,” Luca answered with a grin. “But
you can bet your ass I am not doing it. Doesn’t that make
me your favorite brother?”
Bianca chuckled softly. “We shall see.” She turned her
eyes my way and tilted her head. “Did it ever occur to any
of you that maybe you could wine and dine the woman you
want to marry? Take her on romantic dates, get on one
knee, and propose. You know, give her a choice.”
Nico saved me from answering. “That takes too long,
Cara Mia.” Her head whipped around and her smile turned
soft, seeing her husband and twins come through the door.
“Uncle Cassio, Uncle Luca.” Our nieces both screamed
in unison and ran to us.
I lifted them both into my arms. “What have you been
eating?” I joked. “You grew another few inches. You’ll be
taller than Luca and me.”
They both giggled and left me for Luca. They knew he
always came prepared with toys. Freaking dude kept toys
in the car since he found out we had nieces. Just in case, he
would say.
Nico lifted his wife’s small body, sat down and placed
Bianca on his lap, wrapping his arms around her and his
hands on her thighs. That guy just couldn’t stop touching
my sister!
“Hello, wife.”
She nuzzled into him, and the brotherly part of me
wanted to punch Nico and demand he kept his hands to
himself. But I knew it wouldn't work. Besides, Bianca was
crazy about Nico and couldn’t keep her hands to herself
either.
“Girls, how about I get some of your kisses?” Bianca
complained through a smile on her face. “After all, I am
your mother.” Both girls ran to her, gave her peck on the
cheek and rushed back to Luca.
“Do you have something for us, Uncle?” Hannah
questioned. It was hard to tell them apart though I was
getting better at it.
 “What?” Luca acted hurt. “I’m not a good enough
present?” But he couldn’t keep his face straight with all
their giggles. “Fine, I have something for you. It is in the
car.”
Before Luca could get up, they took off. “We got it,
Uncle Luca.”
And they left us like dust in the wind.
“You have to stop bringing presents every time you see
them,” she scolded him. “They’ll expect it, and it is not
right.”
Luca shrugged. “They can expect it, and they will get it.”
Bianca rolled her eyes. “Wait and see how expensive
that gets.”
My lip twitched. Nico was one of the richest men in the
States and she worried about money.
Bianca’s eyes returned my way. “Try asking her out,
Cassio,” she tried again, reverting to our original topic.
“Instead of forcing marriage like some other people I
know.”
She gave her husband a pointed look.
“Once they’re married, Cassio can take her out on dates
for the rest of his life,” Nico retorted. His hand came up to
my sister’s belly and it confirmed my suspicion. “And charm
her for the rest of her life. That was my plan.”
A giggle escaped her. “You guys are incorrigible,” she
scolded. “I mean, look how horribly it went for Luciano. I
hate to tell you, Nico, but it didn’t go that great for you
either.” Bianca’s hands snaked inside her husband’s blazer.
“Though I am happy now, it caused a lot of anguish and
unnecessary doubt.” Bianca’s eyes came to me. “Does that
make sense?”
“She wouldn’t marry me if she had a choice,” I admitted
reluctantly. “The idea of being Mrs. King will sicken her.”
Bianca watched me curiously. “Why?”
“She hates all Kings,” I muttered. “Thanks to our dear
father. And to make things even better, she was kidnapped
and tortured when she was fourteen. It was orchestrated
by Benito. Her memory has been wiped, but I’m positive it
will come back.”
Bianca gasped and understanding passed her
expression.
“Yes, maybe not the best scenario,” she admitted
reluctantly. “I still don’t agree with forcing her to marry
you.” She shook her head. “Who is it anyhow?”
“Áine Callahan.”
She gave me an odd look.
“Do you mean Áine Evans?” Her question surprised me.
“That name is very unusual and I only ever heard it once.”
“You know her?” If she did, maybe she could put in a
good word for me. I groaned silently. Good word or not,
Áine would be my wife.
“She interned for a real estate company for a few
months. It was during our college years.” She turned her
eyes to Nico. “Yours, actually.” Nico nodded; we both knew
it. Though her connection to my sister was a novelty to
both of us. “Anyhow, she also did a few weeks for John’s
construction company. It was how we met. We hung out
while she was in town, but then she went back to New
York. We stayed in touch but things got busy. For both of
us.”
“Well, well, well,” Luca grinned. “It’s a small world.”
“Did she date anyone while you guys hung out?” From
all the questions, no idea why that one came out?
Bianca shook her head. “No, nothing serious.” For a
moment she hesitated, like she struggled. “Cassio, please,
think about what you are doing. She’s a really good
person.”
“So I shouldn’t marry her?” I challenged her, slightly
agitated.
She sighed. “I am not saying that. Áine spent the night
once at our dorm, my last year of college, and the
nightmare she had was-” She searched for words, her eyes
full of emotion. It was what made Bianca so much better
than us. She cared about others more than herself. “I don’t
know. By how shaken up she was, it was bad. Now that you
told me that Benito kidnapped her, it explains it. Don’t
make things worse for her.”
I could feel Luca’s eyes on me. Until recently, the two of
us were the only ones that knew what happened to her. Not
including Áine’s parents. It would seem not even Áine
herself remembered. Well, except in her nightmares.
“Cassio will do the right thing, Cara Mia,” Nico
comforted her. “How about we tell them the good news?”
A crimson blush crept up Bianca’s neck and her cheeks.
“Don’t think I don’t know you are trying to distract me,”
Bianca narrowed her eyes on him, but then a soft smile
curved her lips. “But I’ll allow it this time because I already
know we won’t see eye-to-eye on this marriage method
matter.”
“It’s the reason you are better than us,” Luca muttered
affectionately. My brother was, of course, right. Bianca’s
mother, despite all that happened, did right by her
daughter.
“Umm, okay,” Bianca took a deep breath. “Luca, you’ll
have to buy a bigger car if you're going to continue with
gifts every time you come to visit.” Luca’s eyebrow lifted in
question. “We are expecting.”
My lip quirked.
“Expecting what?” Luca asked, his expression truly
quizzical. Our brother was adamant to remain ignorant in
regards to Bianca's physical aspect of her marriage. It was
probably his coping mechanism, so he wouldn’t kill Nico for
sleeping with our sister.
“We’re pregnant,” Nico added, grinning. His hand went
protectively over her lower abdomen. “We are expecting
twins.”
Bianca’s small hand covered Nico’s.
 “A stork is bringing those babies, right?” Luca’s eyes
crinkled and his lip corners raised up.
“How did you know?” Bianca played along, amusement
shining in her eyes. “We just booked them yesterday.”
Luca just couldn’t stomach anyone banging our sister. I
couldn’t go there either. It made my finger itch for my gun.
“I’m happy for you,” I told them both. “I can’t wait to
meet them. Do the girls know?”
Bianca smiled dreamily. “We are going to tell them
tonight. You know they can’t keep a secret. But we’ve been
talking about possibilities for a brother or a sister and both
are thrilled. Especially after learning that Matteo will have
a little sister.”

“Y ou have to consider the possibility , Á ine E vans will

fight you,” Luca commented as we entered Nico’s office.
While Nico sat down behind the desk, Luca and I took seats
opposite of him. “She doesn’t seem ready to settle nor does
she seem the type to be told who to marry. She grew up
independent. You might want to reconsider your plan,
Cassio.”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” My brother was grating on my
nerves. Why in the fuck did he suddenly want to be the
knight? Bianca was rubbing off on him.
“Of course she isn’t the type to be told who to marry.”
Nico rocked back in his chair. “Neither was Bianca. Or
Grace. So you make it happen and then make it up to her
for the rest of her life. That was my plan.”
It was the wrong thing to say because Luca glared at
Nico. “Don’t remind me how you forced my sister to marry
you. I should take her to my island.”
Nico flipped him off. “Try to take my wife and you’ll see
how fast your empire crumbles,” he threatened Luca. You
could threaten Nico with chopping his cock off and he
wouldn’t flinch. Give a hint of threat about taking Bianca
and he was already digging your grave.
A look on my brother’s face told me he was debating
whether to push Nico some more, but then he changed his
mind. Unfortunately, he decided to push my buttons.
“You should listen to Bianca,” he recommended. “Maybe
wait and date her for a few years. I mean, look at our sister.
Do you want to do to Áine what Nico did to our sister?”
I clenched my teeth. I waited a few years already. Fuck.
Everyone. Else. Áine was mine now. Her life intertwined
with mine from the moment I saved her. I just never knew
she’d become the woman for me. Maybe it was the whole
reason I was meant to save her.
This whole discussion was pointless so I cut it short.
Otherwise, Luca would lose his shit and Nico would beat
him into the ground if my brother even hinted that she’d be
better off without him. The only thing that mattered to me
was that Bianca was happy and my nieces were safe. They
loved Nico; he loved them.
“Were you able to get any information?” I asked Nico,
steering the topic away from our sister.
He reached for a folder and handed it to me. I scanned
through the folder with information.
“Cigar?” Nico offered. “Scotch?”
“No, I’m good.” I was more interested in reading the
information on Áine he was able to dig up. No amount of
scotch would satisfy me right now.
“I’ll take one of each,” Luca accepted. Nico poured them
both a glass of scotch, then the two leaned back into the
chairs. As they talked, I tuned it all out, reading
information on my future wife.
“Why is she traveling to the Middle East, Asia, and
Africa so frequently?” I asked nobody in particular. The
company she worked for, which happened to be my
company, didn’t take contracts for those geographical
areas.
“I found it odd too,” Nico chimed in, his feet up on the
table. “Did you know her father… well, the prime minister
had a secret side gig?”
I raised my head and studied Nico’s expression. He
wasn’t the joking type and this was a big piece of
information.
“Go on,” I urged. “What kind of side gig?”
“It was called Eve’s Garden.” I cocked an eyebrow. The
prime minister didn’t strike me as a save the planet type.
“It is an organization that rescues victims of human
trafficking. It must have been the reason Benito targeted
the prime minister and kidnapped Áine.”
Nico had vast resources when it came to finding out
things about people. When Luca and I went back after
rescuing Áine, we leveled the entire place and left no
witnesses.
Except the boy. He took Luca’s warning and
disappeared. We found him again a few years later, but he
didn’t know who Áine and her family were.
“The kidnapping happened in her father’s office
building. Her guards walked her to the elevator and she
took the lift alone, since her father was waiting for her on
his floor. The elevator was stopped between the floors and
Áine kidnapped.”
No wonder she had issues with elevators. And because
of her memory wipe, she didn’t even know why.
“Is the organization still going?” Luca asked the
question that mulled over in my mind.
“When the prime minister died, the organization
seemingly ceased to exist.” There was a but coming. I knew
it. “But I think his daughter continued it, under a different
name.” A heartbeat of silence. “There is an organization
called The Rose Rescue,” he continued. “Gia has had a run
in with a woman that The Rose Rescue saved. They have
their own set up going - save the women, place them in
secured shelters, help them get established, and when the
women are ready to move on, they help them with that
too.”
Nico’s proclamation sent shockwaves through me. She
seemed too gentle to lead a secret organization rescuing
women. On one hand, I just couldn’t see her doing
something so dangerous. But on the other hand, it didn’t
seem as far-fetched as it should. She was fit; obviously
trained vigorously, she had too many unexplainable trips.
We talked almost every day, except when she disappeared.
As if she heard me, my phone buzzed. I glanced at it and
immediately grinned like a damn fool, despite the
information I just learned.
Áine: *How about some sexting? I hear it’s a thing.*
I could practically picture the mischievous glint in her
eyes as she typed that text and pressed the send button.
Glancing up I caught Nico and Luca eying me. “I have to
take care of this. It’s urgent.”
Luca scoffed. “It looks very urgent.”
Ignoring him, I focused on typing my message back
while keeping my face expressionless.
Me: *Next time I see you, I’m going to lick your
pussy until you beg me to stop.* She wanted sexting, I
would deliver.
The reply came almost instantly.
Áine: *Oh, we are doing this now?* More bubbles as
she typed. *What if I don’t beg you to stop?*
Me: *You will have mind blowing, explosive
orgasms. Over and over again, until you are limp in
my arms.*
Áine: *I won’t beg you. But I’ll return the favor.”
Then the phone buzzed again. Three emojis.
* Eggplant. Tongue. Water drops.*
Okay, maybe I was too old for emojis but I was pretty
certain I knew what that meant.
 Me: *You won’t have energy left after I make you
ride my face.*
Bubbles appeared. Then stopped. Then reappeared.
Áine: *Okay, this backfired.* I grinned smugly. *Now
I’m hot. Are you hard?*
Me: *Butterfly, all I have to do is think about you
and I get hard.* It was true. My dick thickened in my
slacks after her first text, which considering I was with
Nico and Luca, it wasn’t the best thing. If they spot it,
they’d never let me live it down. *When are you back in
NYC?*
She had been on the road for the past four weeks. The
two days she was actually in the city, I had to travel. You’d
think living in the same city, even the same building, we’d
run into each other. We never did. Of course, she didn’t
know I owned her building.
Áine: *Late next week. Will I see you?*
Me: *Nothing will stop me.*
Áine: *I’ll hold you to it. Okay, I got to go. Pilot is
giving me a murderous look.*
Now that I knew she led an organization, it made sense
that she was always traveling. I put the phone back into my
pocket and returned my attention to Luca and my brother-
in-law.
“Sorry about that.” I offered an apology.
“No, you’re not,” Luca muttered. “If I guess who that
was, can I beat your ass?”
“How about I beat your ass whether you guess or not?”
“Okay you two, stop bickering like old ladies.” Nico
reprimanded us. “Back to business. There is something
else,” Nico continued. Luca and I waited. “Once you sent us
a warning about Marco’s final grand belles auction, I
hacked into his system. Marco has an agreement with the
state attorney for New York, an exclusive offer received by
Mr. Chad Stewart. To buy Áine Evans at a reduced price.
After Marco breaks her in for him.”
 A volatile anger stretched in my chest and red swam in
my vision. I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw hurt. I’d kill
Chad Stewart and Marco. When the time came, I’d
especially enjoy torturing those two. I’d break those two
motherfuckers, so they could never break another woman
again.
“Jesus Christ,” Luca muttered. “Will this shit ever end?”
“Not as long as Marco is alive,” I gritted.
“Cassio, I have no doubt that Áine is running The Rose
Rescue business.” I hated to admit it, but I was certain
Nico was right. My instinct was confirming it.
“Are you sure?” Luca questioned. “I’m not saying she is
a frail woman. I just couldn’t see someone that has been
through what she has been through willingly go into the
battle.”
“It’s a secret organization so it isn’t like there are paper
trails, but her travels outside her job coincidentally sync up
with a member of the organization that worked for her
father.”
“Maybe they are having a fling,” Luca offered.
Sometimes I really had to fight the urge to beat him. The
thought of Áine having a fling with any man made my blood
burn like Hades. The reasonable part of me knew it made
no sense. She was a virgin, melted under my touch, and
wasn’t shy about telling me she wanted me. It was
refreshing and captivating.
“Maybe he’s a dead man,” I retorted dryly.
Luca rolled his eyes, reminding me of our sister.
“By the way, Nico,” I changed the subject. He gave me
all the information I needed for the moment. “How did
Bianca take the news of the birth control swap?”
Nico growled. “How in the fuck do you know?”
“Bianca told Grace, Grace told Luciano and guess
what… the bastard told me and almost pissed himself
laughing. He had a bet going among everyone whether
Bianca would kill you first or Luca.”
 “Fucker,” Nico muttered. “Well, he lost.”
“There is still time,” Luca chimed in. “I might give her a
tempting offer and we’ll do it together.”
Nico flipped his middle finger. Luca loved to taunt the
man.
“Our sister took the news about birth control pills well,
huh?” I returned to the topic.
Nico poured himself another drink. “Not exactly,” he
said. “She threw a bit of glassware my way. And threatened
to cut my balls off. Oh, and let’s not forget she locked me
out of our bedroom too. It took me seven days of groveling
for her to say two words to me.” I chuckled. I could see
Bianca do it all. She had a temper. “And want to guess what
they were?” he asked in a dry tone.
“Fuck off?” Luca guessed.
“You are enjoying this too much, fucker,” Nico
snickered. “I’ll enjoy the show when it’s your turn.”
I glanced at Luca. My gut feeling was telling me it might
be sooner rather than later.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Nineteen

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

I woke up with the jolt, my heart thundering hard in

my chest. My eyes frantically drifted through the
dark space, over unfamiliar furniture. The heavy silence
stretched, making the darkness feel ominous. I swallowed
hard, staring ahead with the stillness that carried on for a
heartbeat or hundreds of those, I didn’t know. My rapid
breathing and pulse beating in my ears were the only
sounds I could make out.
My skin felt clammy, the beat of my heart painful in my
chest. The darkness slowly receded and realization set.
Hotel.
I was in a hotel in Russia. We completed a mission but
the plane couldn’t get us out until tomorrow. We rescued a
group of young boys and got them out of a hellhole. Before
we could get them on the plane that would take them to
safety, the winds picked up and the flights were grounded.
So we’d booked twenty hotel rooms in the middle of
nowhere. We paid the receptionist a hefty amount to
disappear for twenty minutes and got them all in. God,
those boys! Most of them were skinny as a rail, ranging in
ages from eight to seventeen. They were all in bad shape,
beaten black and blue. It would seem innocents came in all
shapes, sizes, and genders.
 My heart slowed down to a reasonable pace by now, and
I laid back down against the soft mattress. Usually when
we rescued the victims, it was either me or Margaret
staying with them. But then they were, more often than
not, women we were saving. This time, the boys felt more
comfortable with the men, so John and another one of our
guys remained watching them. Tomorrow, we would get
them out of here and place them in a safe house in the U.K.
It was April but the weather in this country was colder.
Or maybe it wasn’t in the normal parts of Russia. All I knew
was that Siberia was fucking too cold for April. And those
boys barely had any clothes on, their skin cracked, almost
raw looking. William, one of our other men from The Rose
Rescue, and I went to buy clothes, while John and Pilot,
who also had medical training, remained to guard the kids
and help them get cleaned up.
I pulled the covers over my body tighter, trying to
preserve the heat, while I stared at the ceiling. There was a
single spot on it darker than the rest of the ceiling, but it
was too dark to distinguish what it was. And I was too
exhausted to get up and turn the lights on.
Get some rest, my mind whispered.
I tried to shut my mind off, force myself to clear it of any
thoughts and images. I’ve had too many nightmares lately
and exhaustion has settled deep in my bones. If things kept
going like this, I’d be no good to the team. And in a
disturbing way, I needed this. This revenge against every
man that scarred innocent women and men for life. The
nightmares had me in the center of it all and though I
didn’t understand them, they pushed me forward. To make
things right.
I wished Margaret was here. It usually took her a solid
week to adjust to a time zone change. She’d be awake right
now and I could ramble to her. She’d listen to my disjointed
nonsense. She might even scoff and call me a martyr or
crazy. That’d be okay - as long as I could talk. But she
wasn’t feeling well so she stayed behind. Wanting to check
the time, I shifted my head to the right, the crinkly noise of
the pillow fabric loud in the dark room. Too loud. Too dark.
Too lonely.
It was 3:57 A.M.
My lungs tightened. It would be another long night.
Another long day. God, I wished the dreams would just
stop. Let me rest. Just one night.
Screams were so damn loud in the dreams, they’d wake
up the dead. I wonder if I’ll hear them when I die, I thought
darkly, because at this rate it wouldn't be long. Each time I
dreamt, the pain swelled in my chest and my heart froze in
cold fear. Maybe the latter piece would be gone when I
finally go to that final resting place.
“Say one word.” The words were always the same. “You
can save them. Just say a word.”
I never uttered a single word. I screamed in my head,
begged in my head. But I never said it. Why does it hurt to
breathe? I pressed my palm against my chest, rubbing the
dull pain away. Those were some fucked up dreams. I
should be dreaming about rainbows, ponies, designing the
most magnificent building. Not this fucked up shit.
I turned to my side, the shuffling duvet making a
rustling noise. My eyes glanced at the clock again.
Damn it. It was only 4:30 A.M.
I could work on my building drawings, but I’d be
straining my eyes too much and I’d end up with a
headache. I didn’t have a proper table nor lighting and my
eyes already burned from exhaustion.
I reached out for my phone, sitting on the nightstand. It
was afternoon back in New York, maybe Hunter messaged.
We’ve texted a lot over the last few weeks. Each time I got
a message from him, my stomach would do somersaults
and my heart would flutter with excitement. Yes, it was
stupid I got all giddy at the notion of a man’s message.
Sliding it open, an unread message waited for me. It was
from Hunter and my heart skipped a beat.
I read it and my lips curved into a smile. *What is my
beautiful Butterfly doing?*
Eager for a distraction from my own thoughts, I quickly
replied.
*Waiting for your message.* Fuck it, text messaging
wasn’t enough today. *Are you in the mood for a phone
call?*
One heartbeat and my phone rang. A smile spread on my
face and I answered, suddenly feeling lighter. He was what
I needed. “Áine, are you alright?”
Each time I thought about Hunter, there was a lightness
in my chest. No matter what was happening; no matter how
bad the nightmares got.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I assured him. “I couldn’t sleep and I’m
tired as hell.”
“Sleep?” That’s right, he didn’t know I was in another
time zone, a different country. There were many times in
the last few weeks when I really wanted to tell him what I
did. I never felt the need to tell Jack, nor my mother. Yet, I
wanted to tell Hunter, make him understand. But I had just
met him, and I couldn’t risk The Rose Rescue on my need
to tell him.
“Yeah, I’m overseas,” I explained, keeping it vague.
“Time difference is killing me. What are you doing?”
“Besides talking to you?” he chuckled. “Going through
some boring paperwork.”
“Work stuff?”
“Yes.” He never told me what his profession was.
Somehow, he didn’t strike me as a nine to five
businessman.
“What is it that you do?” I asked him.
“Run a business.” Hmm, the answer seemed vague just
as my answer on where I was.
“What kind of business?”
 “I own several nightclubs, casinos, and hotels.” There
was a tone to his voice that led me to believe there were
other things he ran as well, but when he left it at that, I let
it go. I didn’t want to pry too much. After all, I had my own
things that were not for discussion. “Do you often have
issues sleeping?”
His perception surprised me. We’ve spent little time
together in Vegas, but other than that, we haven’t had a
chance to see each other again. We texted a lot over the
weeks, but I didn’t think he’d pick up on my sleep issues
over the text messages.
“Sometimes nightmares plague me,” I admitted
uncomfortably. “I know, I know,” I added in an exasperated
tone, trying to lighten it with joking. “I’m too old for those.”
“Nobody is too old for nightmares. Have you talked to
someone about it?”
“Yeah, I see someone occasionally.” I wasn’t ready to
admit to him that I went through a treatment every so often
to ease the migraines and nightmares.
“Does it help?” He sounded sincerely concerned and
somehow it felt good to talk about it.
“It did, in the beginning. Now, I just don’t know.” I
shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable. “It’s hard to
explain.”
“Try it,” he urged. “Even if it doesn’t make sense.”
I exhaled deeply. Truthfully, none of it made sense. “I
keep having dreams of something that never happened,” I
murmured into the phone. “The images are bad…
disturbing. And I’m in the middle of it.”
Two heartbeats of silence seemed like two hours. “What
are the images about?’
Sick, twisted images, I wanted to say. “Women being
tortured,” I answered instead vaguely, my voice slightly
strained. “And though I want to say something, help… I
never do.” And their screams pierce my brain and bleed my
ears. But there was no need to go that deep into it.
 “Do you think it’s a memory?” he asked softly. God, was
this man for real? I fully expected uncomfortable silence
and changing subjects.
A choked laugh escaped me. “I think I’d remember it
when I’m awake if it was,” I told him. Though in my dreams
it felt like a memory. “Sometimes-”
My voice trailed off, unsure about my next words. “Tell
me,” he said, his voice a soft demand.
“Sometimes, the images come to me when I’m awake,” I
muttered. “They slam into my brain out of nowhere. No
idea what triggers it.” God, this was stupid but I couldn’t
stop. “Ummm, like your hand.”
“My hand?”
“Your hand tattoo,” I murmured. I loved the ink of his
skin and his rose tattoo was my favorite. But somehow it
connected to my images. “There is one image that never
leaves me. It is a hand reaching out. I can’t make out
anything else about that hand, except for the rose tattoo.”
Ba bum. Ba bum. Ba bum.
A strangled laugh escaped me. “Weird, huh? I swear, I’m
not crazy.” I tried to lighten the conversation. “Anyhow, tell
me how is your week so far?”
“First, you are not crazy.” His voice was strong and sure,
convincing. “Trust me on this one.” When I didn’t make a
sound, he continued, “Áine, do you trust me?”
The question surprised me; my answer surprised me
even more.
“Yes.” No idea how I knew that, but deep down I did.
“Then trust me when I say, you are not crazy. We all deal
with our issues differently,” he started to explain. “Your
way is through the dreams.”
God, he almost made it sound like I had lived those
images. Yet, I didn’t remember them ever happening in my
life.
“Do you have issues?” I asked him, trying hard to move
away from me.
 “We all have issues, Butterfly,” he answered, sincerity in
his voice. “So yes, I have some too.” I wanted to ask him
what they were, and help him through talking. Kind of like
he was helping me right now. But before I could open my
mouth, he continued, “My father, who wasn’t much of one,
wasn’t a good man. He destroyed a lot of families.” A soft
gasp slipped through my lips. It never dawned on me to
look up Hunter’s family. Shit, I didn’t even know his last
name. Who was his father? “He even hurt the families of
some of my best friends. I know it wasn’t me that did it.
Yet, I can’t shake off the responsibility or guilt associated
with it.”
His admission surprised me. Though somehow the fact
that he took responsibility for his father’s sins didn’t
surprise me. I had absolutely nothing to base it on, except
that Hunter somehow struck me as the type that took his
family's responsibilities seriously. Kind of like Jack, my
stepfather. If anyone in his extended family did something
stupid or wrong, Jack felt it as a direct reflection of himself
and his own failure.
“You are not your father,” I comforted him. “I’m sorry he
hurt your friends’ families. You can’t choose family, but you
can choose your friends. Friends are more often a
reflection of us than our families. We picked them, while
family blood ties were forced upon us. Hope that makes
sense.”
“It does,” he answered, his deep voice strong. This
might have been too heavy of a topic. So far, our texting
has been mostly casual. Yet, it felt so right to talk to him.
“Now, tell me how can we get you to get some rest?”
I chuckled. “I’m wide awake now,” I retorted. “I don’t
think there will be any more sleeping. Maybe phone sex?” I
asked hopefully.
His booming laugh came through the line and I swore
my insides melted. I loved hearing his laugh.
“Too forward?” I asked, grinning like a fool.
 “Never,” he assured me right away. “I love your
forwardness.” Oh my goodness. Something deep down in
my chest beamed like the brightest light at his words.
“Now tell me what you’re wearing, Vita Mia?”
I fucking loved his endearment names for me. Butterfly
was cute. Vita Mia just turned me into mush.
“Not much,” I answered in a sultry tone, hoping my
seduction voice was somewhat decent. “Just panties.”
A soft groan came over the line. “No top?’
I quickly shuffled my phone between my hands and
discarded my top. “Not anymore,” I answered, my voice
slightly breathless. I couldn’t believe we were doing this
but my heart thundered in anticipation like I was a
teenager doing something naughty for the first time.
Like French kissing, I thought grinning.
“Touch your breasts,” he ordered. I immediately brought
my hand to my breasts, tracing my fingers over the nipple.
“Are you touching yourself?”
“Yes,” I rasped.
“Pinch your nipple,” he ordered. The same moment I
followed through, a moan slipped through my lips and my
back arched off the mattress.
“Hunter,” I breathed out. My body was on fire. “Are- are
you touching yourself?”
“You want me to?” Did I ever?
“Yes,” I panted, my hand snaking down my stomach.
The zipper noise came through the phone, followed by a
grunt and the sound just about sent me over the edge. This
was what happened when you remained a virgin until you
were twenty-five.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “I’m fisting my cock imagining it’s
you, but there is nothing better than your tight pussy.” I’d
combust any moment. My pants were getting louder, my
breathing heavy and matching Hunter’s. “Are you touching
your pussy?”
My hand slipped into my panties. “Yes,” I moaned.
 “Rub your clit,” he urged, his voice rough. I followed his
instructions, rubbing the wetness over my nub faster and
faster. My pulse raced, my heart drummed against my ribs,
the coiled pleasure like a hot lava in my stomach.
“Oh, Hunter,” I panted. “I’m so wet. I ache for you.”
“That’s right, Vita Mia,” he murmured, the sound of his
own pumping coming over the phone. It was fucking hot.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned, my heart thundering. My mouth
parted, my breathing erratic. “So good. Your hard cock is in
my pussy. Stretching me. It feels so good.” I licked my lips,
remembering how his cum felt on my lips. “I want to taste
your cum on my tongue.”
A guttural sound echoed through the phone, the
rhythmic sound in sync with my own fingers thrusting in
and out of my pussy.
“You feel me,” he breathed hard. “I’m pushing my
fingers into your wet pussy. Stretching you.”
“Ahhh, yes.” I was losing my mind, my fingers thrusting
in and out. In and out. “Please. Oh fuck!”
His groans were only turning me on more. Heat shot
straight to my core, a blazing pleasure spreading through
my body.
“Hunter, please,” I begged. “I want your cock inside
me.”
“Fuck, Vita Mia. I want that too.” My grunting matched
his, my moans pitched higher and higher. I thrashed
against the sheet, every inch of my body hypersensitive. I
was right at the edge of a cliff, ready to jump off and lose
myself into white-hot pleasure.
“Hunter, I’m coming,” I moaned, my core throbbing.
God, my fingers would never be enough now that I had his
cock inside me. “Hunter, please. Oh, God. Yes, yes. Yes.”
“Fuck, yes,” his grunt echoed through the phone, rough
and loud. “Come for me, Vita Mia.”
 My body exploded, a million stars shot behind my
eyelids as languid heat spread to my toes, and my head
buzzed with intense pleasure. My body shuddered as an
orgasm rolled through me like waves over the ocean while I
chanted Hunter’s name. Over and over again.
Through the lust infused fog, I heard my name on
Hunter’s lips and it made the pleasure even better.
As my breathing slowed, the room came back into focus
along with the man on the other end of the line.
“Fuck, Butterfly,” he murmured. “I wish I could have
seen your face as you finished.”
My cheeks heated. “FaceTime sex next time,” I
murmured softly, feeling sated.
His soft chuckle had me melting. “Definitely,” he agreed.
“I haven’t done phone sex nor FaceTime sex before, but I
could get used to this.”
It was my turn to chuckle. “I haven’t either,” I admitted.
“But I like it. Although not as much as the real thing.”
“Soon,” he promised.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Twenty

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

P oker night.
It was usually entertaining, but today, I found it to
be slightly agitating. It had been a whole week since Nico
gave me an information dump on Áine and The Rose
Rescue. After speaking with her three nights ago, I knew it
to be true. She must have been on one of her missions,
somewhere in fucking Russia. I knew where she was thanks
to Nico.
The possibility of Áine running a search and rescue type
of mission in all corners of the world didn’t sit well with
me. The irrational fear that something could happen to her
at any moment was sending an icy rush of panic through
my veins.
Of course, it did nothing to help me win the poker game.
I sat around the table with Nico, Alessio, Luca, Luciano,
Sasha, and Alexei. It was our regular monthly boys’ poker
night. Sasha was a recent addition to our card table, but
nonetheless fierce and loyal. Though reckless as fuck. It
was these men around this table who I trusted with my life.
Luca was my brother by blood and the others were by
choice. My loyalty to my friends wasn’t any less than to my
brother. I knew the same to be true for them.
 Most of us went years back. Luciano to my childhood.
Nico and Alessio to college years. Alexei right after.
Raphael right around that time. We all just clicked.
Whether we shared similar tragedies or the same cause, we
stood by each other.
Less than a decade ago, Nico, Luciano, Luca, and I
found ourselves in Moscow. To get one of our own out of
that fucking country- Alexei Nikolaev. Of course, back then
he was just Alexei. The scars that man endured still fucking
gutted me. Whether it was the fact that it happened shortly
after Luca and I saved the young girl with shattered blue
eyes or whether we reached a tipping point, I didn’t know.
But that night, as we drank cheap liquor, revealed scars we
all carried, and wished for a better life, we formed a pact.
We would end this fucking suffering. We’d fight together.
Always.
“I hear you might be dating?” Alessio teased. “Text
dating or some shit like that. I never knew that was a
thing.”
Luca had a big goddamn mouth. Texting with Áine was
not dating, though I’d lie if I said I didn’t enjoy our little
conversations. But I itched to have my ring on her finger.
“My dating life is none of your business.” My answer
was curt, but fuck… what do you say? I have worked on my
trap for almost two years so better not fuck it up? And my
soon-to-be wife, I hope, has so many damn secrets, I wasn’t
sure if I was coming or going. Though after our phone
conversation, I really hoped I was coming.
That woman had snuck into my heart, and when it came
to her, my rational mind went out the window.
Luca snickered and I glared at him.
Nico laughed, but he remained quiet since he knew most
of the information on Áine. Fuck, I was sure if he wanted
to, he could somehow dig up all my texts with her. Good
thing he was on my side and my sister kept him busy.
 “I sense a story,” Luciano taunted. Ever since he and
Grace got back together, he was way too fucking happy.
“Oh, there is one,” Luca smirked.
“Shut the fuck up, brother.”
Now, everyone's eyes looked up from their cards and
interest was no longer on the game.
“Now, now,” Sasha grinned. “I kind of feel left out. Tell
us more about Áine Evans. Won’t you bring us up to speed,
Cassio?”
“No,” I growled in response. “She is not up for
discussion.”
Everyone knew what that meant.
“But she’s good to you, right?” Luciano questioned.
“Yes.” God, was she good! That was an understatement.
She made me dream, fly high. Fuck, just thinking about
Áine made me hard. Usually women ride high when they
meet someone. In my case, it was me. I have been riding
high from that first night in Temptation.
The image of Áine on her back, thrashing underneath
me while moaning in pleasure flashed in my mind. Even the
phone sex. Yeah, not a good thing to think about right now.
My cell rang and I glanced at it.
Instantly, I tensed and picked up the line. “Amir.”
Amir was the protection guy to my soon-to-be wife. The
boy that led us to her cell and helped us get out of that
cluster when we rescued Áine. Who better to protect her
than the boy that blended into shadows? He had been part
of Luca and my team for years now.
Of course, Áine didn’t know I had someone assigned to
her already. Except, the woman was good at slipping in and
out of shadows herself. Amir never lost a trail on anyone.
Except Áine.
“She is leaving the country.”
“What? Again?” I growled. “She just got back!” Every
single one of the looks of my friends and my brother was on
me. There was only one she. And it wasn’t like Amir could
control her travel itinerary.
I paused for a second and barked at Nico. “Can you
track Áine’s phone?”
He was already on it. Nico was starting to learn that the
only thing that got me riled up lately was Áine’s safety.
“She’s going to Turkey,” Nico announced. A bad feeling
hit me right in the chest. Eleven years ago, I found her in
Turkey beaten and bruised.
“Can you get to her before she gets on the plane?” I
asked Amir. The image of her amidst danger, in a war zone,
or even worse, among men like Marco kept playing in my
mind.
“Only if I kidnap her,” he spat dryly. “She’s at
LaGuardia, private gate.”
“Grab her and take her to Callahan or to her
apartment,” I retorted dryly. Both of us knew it wouldn’t be
easy, but fuck if I would let her endanger herself. Fucking
Turkey! Marco’s smuggling operation always seemed to go
back to Turkey. “Lock her up if you have to. Don’t let her
leave until I get back.”
Alessio’s one eyebrow shot up while Nico tried hard not
to smile. He better not; otherwise, I wouldn’t be
responsible for what followed. Like a punch in the face.
“And what do you want me to do with the men?”
“What fucking men?” Blind red-hot jealousy shot
through me.
“There are five men in the group that she is traveling
with. I’m not sure if I can take them all down alone.” Shit,
she had a crew of men. That woman rattled me so much
that I was acting like a prick with no brain.
“I don’t care how you do it! Don’t let her get on the
plane,” I barked, worry clawing at my chest.
I hung up and dialed Áine. Each ring cost me years of
my life. She just got back into the U.S. When did the woman
have time to work on her drawings and run rescue
missions? Probably all the lack of sleep, I thought wryly.
No answer. Redial.
“Cassio calm the fuck down.” Luca tried to reason with
me, but the irrational worry was already igniting and
burning like an inferno.
“Why isn’t she fucking answering?” I bellowed. I
scanned through my messages and the moment I saw the
email from my fucking half-brother Marco I knew the exact
coordinates of where she was going. Marco didn’t know we
hacked his emails and got blind copies of all his shit.
Courtesy of my brother-in-law, Nico Morrelli.
I stood up, the chair falling backwards onto the floor
with a loud thump. “Border of Armenia,” I gritted. It wasn’t
the same exact place where I found her beaten eleven
years ago, but it was fifty miles north of it. “That’s where
she is going.”
Luciano just grinned. “Now you know what the fuck I
went through.”
I dialed her again, while sharing a glance with Luca and
Nico.
After my jerky nod, Luca started explaining in a calm
tone. “It would seem my soon-to-be sister-in-law, who is
unaware of her impending engagement, has a team of her
own and has been intercepting trafficking shipments that
Marco and his associates are running.”
Sasha’s mouth was almost on the ground and Alexei
whistled impressively.
“Well, I got to say, Cassio,” Luciano chuckled. “That
trumps my wife’s money laundering.”
“I thought Áine Evans was an architect,” Alessio
questioned. Of course, my brother probably gave them her
damn history.
“Among other things,” Luca answered, chuckling,
though I found nothing amusing.
 “Why isn’t she fucking answering?” I gritted. “Yes, she’s
an architect. Apparently, she has a side gig going on.”
I wished she’d trust me enough and tell me what the hell
she was doing before she got herself killed.
“That’s some gig.” Alessio got his composure back and
downed his scotch.
Luciano on the other hand didn’t seem too concerned.
Not too long ago he bellowed like a madman after his wife.
He had experienced headaches with a strong willed wife
firsthand, so I guess he understood and took a bit more to
ruffle his feathers.
“It’s as if she’s aiming to get herself killed.” And I had
no intention of being a widower even before I got married.
My phone buzzed.
Message from Amir. *Couldn’t get her.*
Goddamn it! I dialed up my pilot and had him ready the
plane for takeoff within the next sixty minutes.
“I’m coming too.” I knew nothing would stop Luca. He
was as stubborn as I was.
“I’m coming too.” Alessio chimed in.
“Fuck it,” Luciano muttered. “I guess I am coming too.”
“Sign me the fuck up,” Nico added.
“No, you guys stay and cover the territory.” I turned to
Luciano. “Your wife needs you.” My eyes traveled to Nico,
and he was already opening his mouth to object, knowing
where I was going. He wanted to come along. “Nico, my
dear sister would kill me. So that would be a hard no. She’d
kick my ass and send me to hell. Then drag me back, just so
she could kick my ass again.”
“Just to see Bianca do that, I want to come even more,”
Nico retorted dryly.
“Besides, Callahan can cover the territory,” Luciano
retorted dryly. Nobody told Luciano what to do. “Or the
Russian Sinners,” he offered up.
“I prefer you guys,” I told him. “We are close to ending
human trafficking on the East Coast. I need you all to stay
and cover our business here. I will handle Áine Evans.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Twenty-One

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

T ears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I was

so fucking scared. How did I get here? I was a
frightened, snot-nosed, red-eyed spoiled teenager who
found myself in a nightmare, and I feared it would be my
end.
I watched with wide eyes as they tortured the poor
woman, my entire body shivering with cold and fear. My
teeth actually chattered, the loud noise of it mixing with
the painful cries of the young woman. Her face was so
swollen and her skin had a blue tint to it.
“This is waterboarding,” the guy that gripped her hair
explained. He wasn’t old or dirty like some of the other
men. But his eyes… they were worse. The scariest thing I
had ever seen. A menace and maniacal expression lingered
in them as he watched me.
I wrapped my arms around me, my teeth making an
unnatural sound as they clattered against each other. A
combination of cold and terror. The mixing of my chattering
teeth and the whimpers from the woman made for an eerie
loud sound as they echoed through the bare room. I could
hear more cries in the distance but they seemed so far
away. As if we were in a separate nightmare, different
twilight zone.
 There were no windows in this room. Just dirty walls,
three men, and three women. Three girls actually. I was
fourteen and the other girls couldn’t be older than
eighteen. But it was hard to tell from the terrified
expressions, the blood all over their bodies, and their
beaten faces.
The one he was torturing now… Her right eye was
swollen shut, her lip split, and I… I remained quiet for fear
he’d do the same thing to me.
I deserved to die; the thought played on repeat in my
mind. I was no better, because I didn’t utter a single word
to save her. I was a snot-nosed teenager that only worried
about self-preservation. All I could do was cry and cry,
shiver with fear I had never felt before.
We would die here. I was certain.
“Still not a single word?” His taunting voice startled me,
and I peeled my gaze from the poor girl. “One word and
we’ll stop this. Any word. Or it could just be a simple
‘stop’.”
Except, if I’d say it, he said he’d touch me. Make me
scream, he said. He said I’d like it but I was certain I
wouldn’t.
The hard, rough dirt floors and rugged rocky walls of
our prison were all I'd seen. I shifted uncomfortably as a
rock on the dirt packed floor dug into my knee.
I wasn't even sure how long I'd been here... days, weeks.
Months maybe. Definitely not long enough to be a year, but
then again, I guess I couldn't be sure. Time blurred
together here. The musty smell of the wooden cell doors,
mixed with the overwhelming scents of body odor and
other bodily fluids. I still wore the school uniform I had on
when they took me. When they kidnapped me.
My eyes found those of the terrified girl next to me. Her
face was bloodied too; her body discolored because of the
bruises, cuts, and other wounds. My eyes flashed back to
the other woman, spitting and sputtering water from her
mouth. I deserved to die... I'd watched them torture both of
the women, yet, I didn't utter a single word to save them...
to help them. All I could do was cry and tremble with a fear
I'd never felt before.
I didn’t stand a chance against anyone, never mind this
cruel and twisted man. He was enjoying this. Even without
the bulge in his pants, I could see it all over his face. Bile
rose in my throat, and with each second, it threatened to
empty my stomach contents.
My eyes returned to the poor girl. Her eyes were blue,
though right now it was hard to tell.
“Do you know who I am?” he shouted and my eyes
snapped back to him. Why was he doing this?
My brain was in a fog. He asked the question as if I
should know who he was. But I didn’t; I was certain I had
never seen him before. I shook my head, gritting my teeth,
desperate to end my teeth from chattering against each
other. I stood up, hoping some resemblance of my strength
would appear.
“You will,” he snarled. “You’ll never forget it.” He
shoved the other girl onto the dirty ground and stalked
over to me. With each step he took closer to me, the bile in
my throat rushed further and further up.
It was a bitter acid on my tongue, and it burned as I
swallowed it down. I couldn’t let it come up my throat. I
had to show at least some strength. I watched in slow
motion as he balled his hand into a fist and swung through
the air, hitting my jaw. My head flew backwards and I
stumbled. My skull hit the wall so hard spots danced in my
vision, different shades of black, red, and white.
I barely blinked my eyes before his other hand wrapped
around my throat and lifted me up into the air. My hands
wrapped around his hand, my fingernails clawing into his
wrists.
“Say the word,” he taunted. But I refused. If I said it,
he’d rape me. He said so, and God help me, I still hoped for
a rescue. My father was the prime minister. Someone was
coming for me. For us. Right?
Desperate for air, I kicked at him, gasping. Just a tiny
breath.
“I’m Marco King, you bitch,” he spat out. “You’ll never
forget my name.”
He threw me through the air, and I flew further down
into the dark abyss, nothing there to stop my fall…
“Áine wake the fuck up!” The voice came from a
distance, breaking my fall. Another shake of my body and I
peeled my eyes open. I was exhausted and nausea lingered
in my system. Goddamn it! I should have seen Dr. Taylor
before I left for this assignment. My dreams were getting
worse.
“Stop shaking me, John,” I muttered in a raspy voice. I
didn’t need to puke right now, I was already somewhere in
the dark pit of the fucking nightmare that I didn’t
understand. I had never met Marco King, yet I knew his
face. I knew his voice. I even knew his scent.
Benito King killed my father. I would kill his legacy. His
offspring. The only reason I could conjure that I knew so
much about Marco King was that I researched him so
thoroughly. I knew of Cassio and Luca King but finding
something on them was next to impossible. I only knew
their names. But Marco… I knew a lot more, and if I was
honest with myself, I’d enjoy killing that man. The
psychotic part of me even anticipated it with delight. I
would enjoy torturing him.
“You alright?” John’s eyes bore into me, studying me. He
was in his forties, worked with my dad, and I trusted him.
When Dad died, I was grateful he stayed along to guide me
through it. I wouldn’t have made it without him. Though he
worried too much about me.
“Just peachy,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. My
headaches were getting worse by the day. I hated seeing
Dr. Taylor. Each time I had my session, I came out of it
feeling physically better but mentally, it felt like the black
hole in my brain just became bigger. Talk about a fucked up
mental state.
I wonder if Hunter will run when he figures out all my
baggage, I thought wryly to myself. I hoped he wouldn’t,
but I couldn’t say that I would blame him if he did.
“Landing in five minutes.” The captain’s voice echoed
through the cabin. Damn it, I felt exhausted. The last
month has been non-stop hunting, along with some large
projects going on at my day job. I was thrilled when the
newest assignment to build a housing shelter for victims of
human trafficking was assigned to me. Though if I was
being honest with myself, I was juggling too many things.
“You know, you could sit this one out,” John suggested,
buckling his seatbelt for landing. This might be a private
plane but John was as straight-laced as they came. Had to
be his military upbringing.
“No, thank you,” I told him, grabbing my phone. I turned
it back on to check for any messages. Margaret was sick,
throwing your guts up kind of sick, so she couldn’t join us.
Again, it left me all alone with the men - John, Edward,
William, Harry, and Pilot. He refused to give his name so
we all just called him Pilot.
I liked it better when Margaret was with me. It made the
men split the fuss. When it was just me, they acted like my
human shields. I mean, I appreciated it and all, but they
just went overboard.
No message from Margaret. Odd, I thought silently. She
must be seriously sick. I shot her a quick message telling
her we missed her and wished her a fast recovery, then
scrolled down. My lips curved into a smile.
Hunter!
*After your business trip to Turkey, I’m taking you
to my favorite restaurant. We’ll set some ground
rules.*
 It has been weeks since I’ve seen him. I missed him, his
touch, his smile, his scent. Everything. It was the craziest
feeling, and I loved it because it made me feel somewhat
normal. For the first time in my adult life, I felt like I had
some kind of relationship.
*I’m counting on it.” I typed back, then pressed the
send button.
Just as I turned off the phone and shoved it into my bag,
it dawned on me.
I never told him I was going to Turkey.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Twenty-Two

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

I n a crouched position, Luca next to me, I watched the

woman I was going to marry in less than a week run
towards the young girl while bullets showered the entire
area. The men on her team shouted at her, screaming for
her to get back, but she paid them no attention. Her entire
focus was on the girl that fell to the ground as men came
after her while others shot at her team.
I stood up, ready to run and kill all the men that were
shooting in Áine’s direction. Luca almost tackled me down
and the rage in my veins burned.
“We’ll blow our cover,” he hissed the warning. I didn’t
care about our cover right now. I didn’t save Áine eleven
years ago to watch her die today. I shoved him away, my
eyes immediately searching for the familiar form. If we
started running towards her now, we’d make her an even
bigger target.
When my local guys lost Áine, I was furious. But I knew
Marco was smuggling another shipment of women through
Turkey, and I suspected I might find her here. I almost
hoped she wasn’t.
Of course, Marco was too good to leave his safety net
and handle the dirty work himself. Instead, he was hiding
and handling business through video transactions,
examining women like cattle virtually.
“Aim and shoot each one of the gunmen,” I ordered
Luca. “Do not miss,” I hissed. Luca had a good aim,
however the scales changed when it came to the safety of
my woman. “Once they are at a safe distance, we’ll blow up
the place.”
Luca and I were here for the same reason as Áine. It
would seem we had a common cause, and I knew our
marriage would be good. She’d be my strength and I’d be
hers. She was a worthy fighter and my chest swelled with
pride.
“Two on her right,” I muttered to my brother. I shot the
ones on the left that dared to raise their weapon at my
woman. Nobody was allowed to touch or hurt the ones I
loved. And this woman… she was mine, under my
protection. She had been from the moment I saved her
from that hellhole eleven years ago.
Áine ran from the compound that was used as the
transfer point to get women to their final destination. She
kept a young girl next to her, holding her hand to ensure
she wouldn't fall behind. They both wore bullet proof vests,
but that wouldn’t save them if they were shot in the head.
I steadied my arm, aimed, and shot. Another man down.
Luca did the same.
The fear hit me as I watched men get closer and closer
to Áine. She raised her hand, pointed her gun and shot.
Damn, she was a good shot, handled the gun better than
most men I’d seen. They both stopped suddenly. Áine’s
hands wrapped around the girl who looked terrified,
burying her head in Áine’s chest. The latter kept her cool.
Good thing. Because in moments like this, losing her cool
could cost her life.
I kept shooting at men that surrounded the walls of the
compound. Luca and I were on higher ground. If we were
down there, among Áine and her men, we’d be sitting
ducks. Up here, we had a clear shot, and none of the men
saw it coming.
We took them down, one by one. A bullet straight into
their chest. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t wear
bulletproof vests.
“We have to leave,” one of the men shouted. He was part
of Áine’s team. “Get the girl and let’s go.”
I saw horror cross Áine’s expression, her eyes locked to
the left side of the compound. I followed her gaze, and the
same second iced terror seeped through my heart.
“Machine gun. Ten o’clock,” I spat. It was too late
though. The bullets started flying all over the sand, hitting
all around Áine and the little girl. She sheltered the girl
with her body, bullets inching their way closer and closer to
them. Áine’s hair reflected all shades of a burning sun
against the rays of the sun high up in the sky. There was no
way for her to blend into the desert tan landscape.
Despite the terror in my heart, the calm washed over me
as I zeroed in on the threat. I steadied my hand, aimed, and
pulled the trigger. I held my breath as it flew through the
air and it hit the target. He fell onto his knees, his aim
uncontrolled.
A terrified scream and I watched with horror as Áine fell
to her knees. My lungs no longer worked, my breath stuck
in my throat.
“Áine,” the screams echoed through the desert, but they
weren’t mine. Mine screamed in my head as I watched her
men run towards her. I shoved to my feet but my brother's
arms held me back from behind me.
“We can’t blow our cover,” he hissed. I didn’t give a shit
about the cover anymore. The woman I loved… that I
fucking loved laid in someone else’s arms. The young girl
that Áine saved held her up, tears streaming down her face,
but all of it was drowned out by my own thundering heart,
sorrow and rage.
I shoved him.
 “Wait, Cassio,” Luca gritted, struggling to keep me back.
“Our position is better up here. There are more men
coming. Keep shooting or they’ll all be dead.”
I knew he was right, but the pull was tearing me up on
the inside.
The man she called John earlier pulled out the knife and
my heart stopped beating. He cut into her. I bellowed in
rage, ready to kill. Kill them all. There were few of her crew
that kept watch around them. They heard me, their eyes
darting around, but they couldn’t see us.
“I will kill them all,” I raged.
“Hunter, look.” My brother’s voice barely registered. He
used my middle name, which he rarely did. “Look.”
I stared, but all I saw was Áine’s pale face, her eyes
closed. And then her eyes snapped open, her breathing
heavy and her hands clawing at her chest.
“She’s fine.” Luca’s voice got to my brain. “Look. The
bullet hit her vest. She’s fine.”
I watched her discard her vest and gasp for air. And with
each breath she took in, life was breathed back into my
lungs. Relief that washed over me was stronger than a
hurricane over oceans. The thundering in my ears slowly
receded. The enemy was still a threat, one of them pointing
a gun at the little group.
Aiming my sniper rifle, I shot him. One silent bullet.
There was another on top of the building. Aim. Shoot.
Dead.
“What the fuck, Evans?” The man’s angry voice drifted
over the breeze as he yelled at my woman. The fact that we
could hear them from our distance told me he was
bellowing at her. “You could have gotten killed.”
That fucking asshole better stop yelling at my woman.
From here, I could see her take a breath in, rubbing her
chest. I knew firsthand it hurt like a motherfucker to get
shot, even through the vest. Áine’s head turned to him.
Even from here, I could see her glares and anger.
 “Don’t ever try to take off leaving someone behind, you
ass,” she shouted back. He offered her his hand but she
slapped it away and stood up on her own. “Next time you
try to leave too soon, Harry, I’ll kill you myself.”
“Who in the fuck is this woman?” Luca murmured under
his breath. It would seem Nico’s intelligence was spot on.
This was our confirmation that Áine was running missions,
saving trafficked women. Though in my gut I knew Nico’s
information was right the moment he uttered those words.
My eyes scanned her frame, ensuring she didn’t have
any injuries. She reached her hand to the little girl and
smiled. Her mouth spoke something softly to the girl, her
soft smile never leaving her lips. The girl didn’t move, her
face stained with tears and fear. My heart clenched at the
memory from ten years ago, a similar scene with a red-
haired girl.
It was the next move that made me wonder if
subconsciously Áine maybe didn’t remember what
happened to her all those years ago.
She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a
lollipop, handing it to the young girl. It was what I had
offered Áine all those years ago. Áine helped her unwrap
the lollipop and smiled encouragingly.
“Can’t those fuckers just disappear?” Luca muttered and
I followed his gaze.
More of Marco’s men.
“Start eliminating them from the right,” I told Luca.
Shouting in Russian could be heard from the oncoming
group.
“They are Russians,” Luca grumbled next to me.
It would seem Marco had indeed teamed up with Ivan
Petrov. Son of a bitch! Luca shot the first bullet their way,
diverting their attention away from the group at the bottom
and back on us. Immediately, they started shooting at us.
Both of us ducked down and lay flat on our stomach.
 Gunfire echoed all throughout, but unlike when I
thought Áine died, my heartrate never even sped up. One
by one, we eliminated the Russians. For all their numbers,
they were like a flock of chicks. Disorganized and barely a
threat. Unless you were out in the open like Áine and her
group. This would give them a chance to get out of there.
The sound of the helicopter was loud as it took off,
taking my woman to safety was the best comfort I could
have been given at that moment. The second they were out
of everyone’s range, Luca and I went to work full force.
Blowing the motherfucking place into dust.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Twenty-Three

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

I reread Hunter’s message again. *After your

business trip to Turkey, I’m taking you to my
favorite restaurant. We’ll set some ground rules.*
I have been back for two days and haven't had a text. I
sent him a note the moment I landed. I never claimed to be
a patient person. But Hunter still hadn’t replied. It was
slightly uncharacteristic of him. After weeks of texting back
and forth, I came to pick up on some things.
Hunter was incredibly patient. Unlike me. He had an
eerily innate way of picking up my moods. Even over texts.
When I asked him how he always knew, he said my texts
were my tell. Usually the shorter the text, the worse my
mood.
So, he’d have flowers delivered. Or a basket of
chocolates. Or my favorite, Irish apple cake. Hunter found
a way to send deliveries to me, no matter where I was.
Croatia, UK, Spain, or New York.
When I told him about my favorite dessert, he laughed.
His favorite was cannoli. He blamed it on his Italian
grandfather. I blamed it on my Irish stepfather.
All through the weeks we talked, he’d never, ever, not
responded. And now… It seemed uncharacteristic of him
not to respond. I had a bad feeling about it. Besides, what
in the hell did he mean by setting up some ground rules?
And how did he know I was going to Turkey? First, I
thought it was something kinky but that didn’t explain his
comment about my location. Either way, I was at a loss.
“Hello, Miss Áine.” Jack’s guard, Connor, greeted me as
I walked through the entrance.
“Hello, Connor,” I greeted him back. “Get rid of that
Miss. We agreed that you would just call me by my first
name.”
“Ah, nay.” He shook his head. “You agreed. I just kept
quiet.”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the grin from
spreading across my face. He got me there.
“Mom and Jack home?” I asked, rather than admit
defeat.
It was one thing Hunter and I had in common. Neither
one of us ever admitted defeat. Not sure if it was a good
quality, or not, to share.
Remains to be seen, I thought wryly.
Connor nodded and I continued on through the vast
foyer. Usually, Jack was in the study at this time of day. I
wasn’t in the mood to hang around here tonight, but I came
to offer Margaret my support. She would have done the
same for me. It was the night the engagement would be
announced. But only to the family and friends. Obviously, I
was curious to meet her mystery soon-to-be husband. So
was she. It wasn’t every day that you got engaged to
someone you never met or knew his name.
I hated to admit it, but I was fucking glad not to be in
her shoes. I’d spit fire if I was cornered into marrying
someone. Might even employ some of the torturing
techniques I learned about but rarely got to exercise - sleep
deprivation, diet manipulation, sensory deprivation, false
friendship.
Margaret’s sobs stopped my thoughts dead in their
tracks. The sounds traveled through my stepfather’s office
door and my steps faltered. Callahan could be intimidating,
but he would never upset a woman. I stilled, alarms going
off all throughout my body. In all my years that I’ve known
Margaret, she never cried. Not even a hint of a tear.
So why is she crying now?
This arrangement wasn’t of her choosing, but she
seemed resigned to accept it. She said it wasn’t uncommon
to see it happen in families like hers. She had known about
her engagement for the past three months although she
didn’t know to whom exactly. All she knew was that it was a
business partner, and it would allow for a strong alliance.
It had been over a month since we partied in Las Vegas.
While I’ve thrown myself into work and the new project
that started, among other things, she reluctantly started
the wedding preparations. The whole ordeal was weird to
me, but the whole Callahan business wasn’t exactly what I
was accustomed to. Jack Callahan made my mother happy
and made her feel safe. That was all that mattered to me.
Another sob and I had enough. Whoever it was, I
wouldn’t let them upset her. I swung the door to Jack’s
office open.
“Jack?” I called out to my stepfather and took the
situation in. Jack was pacing back and forth while Margaret
sat in the chair, her eyes red from tears. “Margaret, are you
okay?”
She gave me a jerky nod, but she wasn’t okay.
My eyes traveled to the guests. Shock and recognition
sank in. My heart sprinted in my chest but then
bewilderment followed.
“Hunter?” I called out in confusion. What is going on
here?
Hunter titled his head, but there was no emotion on his
face. It was like watching a stoic mask. So unlike the man I
met in Las Vegas and the club two years ago. Unlike the
man I have been texting with for the past six weeks. My
forehead scrunched as I took them all in. Both wore a
formal, three piece suit.
Is he-? No, it couldn’t be.
“Áine, I didn’t realize you were here.” Jack walked over
to me and took my hands in his.
“Mom said you guys wanted me over earlier.” My eyes
darted to the mantel where I knew he kept a clock and then
as if Hunter was my magnet, my eyes flicked his way again.
“Am I too early?”
It was almost six in the evening.
“No, no.” He tried to force a smile onto his face. He was
trying not to alarm me but something was definitely wrong.
“Say no one more time,” I joked, though it felt forced to
my own ears, “and I will know for sure everything is
wrong.” My eyes darted past his shoulder to Margaret.
“What’s going on?”
Flickering a gaze back to Hunter, I had a bad feeling
about this. A really, really bad feeling. A tight knot formed
in my stomach but my mind kept ignoring it.
“Áine, go find your mom,” Jack replied with a fake
nonchalant. He was trying hard to maintain his control.
“It’s just business here.”
“Then why is Margaret crying?” I said, locking my eyes
with him. This is bad, something whispered in my ear. So,
so bad.
“Please, kiddo.” Dread pooled in my stomach. Something
was definitely wrong. Jack only called me kiddo when he
was worried about me.
“Okay,” I said and saw relief wash over his face.
“Margaret can come with me though. It’s clear you guys
are upsetting her.” And I had to get the scoop on what the
fuck was going on here. And why was Hunter here talking
to Jack?
Jack closed his eyes but not for long. Just long enough
for him to take a deep breath in and exhale. I couldn’t help
but compare him using breathing techniques to rein in
control the same way I used it to rein in my fear. Jack had a
bad temper. So did I. Thankfully, my mother was the reason
in this family.
“It’s just some business stuff I’m handling,” Jack
grunted. “Now off you go.”
I cocked my eyebrow. He must be out of his mind if he
thought I’d scatter now.
“Well, your business stuff is upsetting her. She can come
with me and you guys can figure out your business stuff. Or
you can tell me what the fuck is going on.”
I could feel Hunter’s eyes on me, lingering, burning me.
As if he was commanding my eyes to be on him. It has been
over six weeks since I’d last seen him. Through our text
and phone conversations, I thought I got to know him, but
now I wasn’t so sure. I wasn’t sure of anything at this very
moment.
A magnetic pull and something unexplainable had my
eyes searching Hunter out again. His heavy gaze met mine.
My eyes dropped to his lips, though at this moment my
sixth sense was warning me that I had no right to his lips,
his hands, his body.
“Umm, Áine,” Maggie’s voice pulled my attention back
to my cousin. “This is the guy,” she tilted her head at
Hunter, “I’m supposed to marry.”
I turned my gaze back to Hunter, feeling slightly
nauseous. My hands were clammy, my nails digging into
the palms, and I realized they curled into fists. I struggled
with the revelation that my chance at a normal relationship
flew out the window before it even had a chance. Even
worse revelation was that I was jealous.
The frustration at the useless feeling snaked beneath my
skin, spreading the ugly green monster through every inch
of my body, until it felt like jealousy would eat at me alive.
No, no, no. He’s mine! The voice inside my head was
vehement. The intensity of my feelings should scare the
shit out of me. It didn’t. The alternative scared me more,
the possibility of reverting back to never feel a man’s
touch. Hunter’s touch.
My eyes traveled back to Hunter’s dark brown eyes and
thick, dark lashes that gave him an intense, brooding
expression. My heart skipped a beat and then resumed its
rhythm, but it kind of felt different. Like it started all over,
to beat just for him.
Jesus. What. The. Hell?
He was Margaret’s fiancé. It was the worst kind of
betrayal. On my part. On Hunter’s. I swallowed hard. That
would be a hard pill to swallow. And the fact that I’d slept
with him… Yeah, that would be an even harder pill to
swallow. For Margaret.
God help me! It would seem I was fooled. For Christ’s
sake, I didn’t even know his last name! I had no fucking
clue who Hunter was. Did he know? How could he not; he
certainly didn’t seem the type to allow someone else to
make arrangements for him.
Oh, sweet Jesus! I felt a horrible headache coming on.
“Áine, Margaret has done something to jeopardize the
business arrangement I had.” Jack’s voice held the tension
and the slightest clench of his teeth. My spine rigid, I
forced my eyes away from Hunter.
Jack’s words sunk in and I frowned. It made no sense.
My step-father was adamant about not pulling women into
his business. So how could she have jeopardized the
business?
“Care to elaborate a bit? Because I’m either leaving with
her or not at all.”
I could be just as stubborn as Jack was. When Mom
married him, she worried we’d butt heads. Surprisingly, we
got along very well. Although there was no shortage of
disagreements.
He took a deep breath in and exhaled again.
“Kiddo, it is not regular business stuff. Now is not the
time to explain my business arrangements.”
 He searched for words, and I couldn’t help but compare
him to my biological dad. My father was never at loss for
words and deceit came off his lips as smoothly as the truth.
It was hard to tell when he was lying and when he wasn’t. I
guess it was a necessary trait of a politician.
Being a head of the Irish mafia, I saw similar traits in
Jack. Except, he was unable to lie to me.
“Not exactly normal?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.
“Jack, I know exactly about the type of business you run.” I
kept it short. I didn’t know if the guests knew the type of
business he was into, and I wasn’t going to put him in a
peculiar position. There was only one business I didn’t
tolerate. Trading flesh.
Jack’s eyes went wide by the revelation, and for a
moment his mouth actually hung open. Despite the tense
situation, I chuckled softly.
I looked over his shoulder again and saw three pairs of
eyes watching us. “I have some money saved up if you
need-”
“No, I don’t need money,” he quickly cut me off.
“Let’s have Ms. Evans join our discussion, Callahan.”
Hunter’s voice pulled my attention back to him. Over the
last month, he has been in my dreams… a lot. But it was
always the same thing. The entire dream was distorted, and
I could only see glimpses of it through the fog. I could
never see his face, but I definitely heard him. There was
crying and screaming, blood, and then his hand reaching
out.
We are here to help you, he murmured softly through
the fog, but each time I extended my hand, he’d disappear
and I’d wake up covered in sweat, with a throbbing
headache. By now, the throbbing headache was just as
normal as breathing. The weird part was that my admission
to him a week ago… or was it two now… it didn’t seem to
surprise him.
 Hunter and I talked about a lot of things over the last six
weeks, including my dreams and nightmares. Now, I prayed
that my gut feeling wasn’t wrong in trusting him.
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Jack objected.
“Considering Margaret’s condition,” Hunter replied
calmly, his whole demeanor commanding, “I believe it is
necessary.”
“What condition?” I blurted out, my eyes on Margaret.
“I’m pregnant,” she muttered low, shame written all
over her.
“Oh.” It wasn’t what I expected. Although to be honest, I
didn’t know what to expect. The only thing I knew for
certain was that I did not like how my stomach tied into a
knot. I felt sick with the notion that Margaret had slept
with Hunter and was now pregnant with his child.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I muttered, though jealousy
slithered through my veins like poison. “You’ll get married
soon anyhow.” I felt flustered. I, Áine Evans, who killed
criminals without a second thought.
My eyes flickered to Hunter. God, he was the only man
to make my body burn. Couldn’t she marry anyone else?
Margaret’s mouth thinned, and for a moment I worried I
said my thoughts out loud.
“It’s not his,” she gritted.
“His?” I asked in confusion.
She tilted her head towards Hunter and spluttered, “It is
not his.”
It was stupid but the first thought in my mind that
resonated was… Thank God. She wouldn’t marry Hunter.
And a twinge of regret hit me instantly for being so selfish.
I walked over to the closest chair and flopped down. “It’s
been a long day.” And Hunter has been invading my
dreams, along with some disturbing nightmares. “Can
someone summarize it for me?”
Jack sat down too and pushed his hand through his hair.
“Your mother won’t be happy about this.”
 “I’m sure she’ll forgive you,” I retorted dryly. She pretty
much forgave him everything. My mother was crazy about
Jack and vice versa. I learned that they were childhood
sweethearts, but then my mother married my dad. She
never explained why, and I didn’t ask. I figured she’d tell
me if she wanted me to know. Although I suspected it had
something to do with Jack’s business. But Jack made her
happy, and although I saw deep affection between my own
parents, I never saw love. With my mother and Jack, I saw
love in each glance and touch they shared, no matter how
small.
“Margaret’s marriage to Cassio King would tie our two
families together and make the alliance strong,” Jack
explained exasperatedly. It was clear he didn’t want to pull
me in.
Wait, what? She wasn’t marrying Hunter? Then the
name pierced through my brain. Cassio King. I shot up to
my feet and leaned over the desk that Jack sat behind,
everyone else forgotten.
“King?” I growled. “Please tell me you did not arrange to
have Margaret marry a fucking King,” I hissed, pissed off.
“Áine-” Margaret started but fury burned through my
bloodstream. I didn’t even bother glancing behind me and
kept my eyes on Jack.
“Might as well send her to the slaughter house,” I said,
glaring at my stepfather. “How could you? Of all the damn
men in this world! Fucking Kings!”
“Kiddo, Cassio-”
My hands fisted into balls. “Don’t kiddo me,” I warned.
“You tell the Kings they can’t have her and cancel today’s
engagement party. Or I swear Jack, I’ll make you regret
ever making that arrangement.”
Jack’s eyes flashed with surprise. This side of me I rarely
showed to anyone. They wanted to think of me as a fragile
flower. That was fine by me. I used it to my advantage, but
I’d be damned if I’d sit and agree to have Margaret given to
any of the King family members.
“I promise you, Áine, this is different.” Jack tried to
explain but my anger at him burned. The disappointment
that he would be so careless tasted bitter.
I turned my head to Hunter, narrowing my eyes at him.
“What is your connection to the Kings? His messengers?”
Yes, when my temper flared, the reason was out the
window.
Silence ticked for several heartbeats before Margaret
cleared her throat, shifting her crisscrossed legs
uncomfortably. “This is Cassio King. And his brother Luca.”
What the fuck? She must be confused. This guy’s name
was Hunter.
“They are Benito King’s illegitimate sons,” Jack added
helpfully. Or not.
I blinked, confused. “What?”
Whispers in my mind. Ice in my veins. Hate in my heart.
You are not your father, my comforting words to him rang
in my ears, and somehow it felt like a slap in my face. Or
maybe his, I didn’t fucking know.
“Áine, meet Cassio and Luca King,” Jack repeated. He
probably thought I was daft, my reason having a hard time
catching up. My head whipped to Jack and then back to the
two.
Cassio and Luca King. In Jack’s house!
Jack hated the Kings as much as I did. So why was he
doing this?
Betrayal and another feeling inched into my heart.
Jealousy was replaced with disgust. Self-disgust. I slept
with Cassio King. My enemy. The only man that didn’t make
my body repulse and protest at his touch; the only man that
could give me earth shattering orgasms was my enemy.
How could a single name change everything? I went
from hope to desperation with a single name. Resentment
wrapped around my throat, choking the damn life out of
me. A single goddamn name!
“You’ll remember my name.” The back of my skull hurt,
and though the fall already happened, it felt like I hit it
again and again. Warm liquid trickled down the back of my
head, but I was scared to move, staring into the cruel eyes
of the man that was thrusting into a crying woman, tearing
her in half. “Marco motherfucking King.”
Bile tasted like acid in my throat, burning. My throat
was raw at this point, but I refused to say a single word.
Instead, I bit into my split lip hard enough to draw blood,
the metallic taste on my tongue.
I blinked, forcing my mind to now. A haze swam in front
of my eyes and a headache throbbing behind my temples.
Goddamn it, I needed to see Dr. Taylor.
Ignoring my headache, I snapped my head to Cassio.
Cassio fucking King. He and his brother were barely a few
feet away from me. All I had to do was take a few steps,
aim, shoot, and they’d be dead. Except, I didn’t have my
handgun. I should start using my thigh holster all the damn
time. This was such a perfect opportunity to take them out,
but I couldn’t do hand-to-hand combat. Not with those two.
Cassio and Luca looked too strong to fight them physically.
I narrowed my eyes at both of them in warning and
noted Cassio’s surprised look. The next instance, Cassio’s
gaze hardened a flicker, showing me his displeasure. Well,
too fucking bad. Lying son of a bitch. He had to know who
Margaret and I were the moment he saw us in the hallway
in Vegas. Or even in Temptation, the nightclub. And he
seduced me! Me!
“You hate us,” Luca stated, then chuckled softly. “Well,
this is perfect.”
“Who doesn’t hate the Kings?” I retorted dryly, my voice
dipping with anger. “I imagine you’d need a very small
piece of paper to list those names.”
 Jack chuckled. I was surprised he wasn’t attacking them
full force, instead of having them sit here like they owned
the world. What in the bloody hell was my stepfather
thinking when he allowed this arrangement to happen?
“Okay, kiddo. I would regularly agree with you but Luca
and Cassio King haven’t worked with Benito nor Marco.”
My thoughts and hatred tripped.
“And you believe them?” I eyed them suspiciously. I
didn’t trust them. None of them. “Maybe they just want the
power for themselves.”
I haven’t heard a single good thing about the King
family for as long as I could remember.
“Which is the reason we are connecting the Callahan
line with the King’s.”
I shook my head. “That’s the dumbest plan ever.”
“Agreed,” Margaret muttered and we shared a glance.
“Now that Benito is dead, Marco King’s havoc is uniting
the worst type of criminals. This will strengthen us and
protect our people.”
I rolled my eyes. “Again, a stupid plan,” I argued. “If he
is causing such havoc, why don’t you just kill Marco? He’s a
little weasel anyhow.”
Laughter boomed through the office and my head
snapped in its direction. It was Hunter’s. I shook my head.
Not Hunter, the fucking liar. Cassio’s.
“It is not that simple,” Jack added, and I inwardly
frowned. “Otherwise, he would have been dead a long time
ago.”
“He should have been dead a long time ago,” I muttered.
“Both Benito and Marco.” I tilted my head towards Luca
and Cassio King. “All of them. It would have spared this
world a lot of trouble.”
Something passed Cassio’s face, and for some reason,
regret hit me at my harsh words.
“And it would have caused a full blown war in the
underworld,” Cassio added. I had a feeling he was hiding
behind a cold mask.
“It sounds to me like you two are not up to the task,” I
challenged him.
Cassio kept his cool, but annoyance crossed Luca’s
expression. I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t trust them.
Hunter, no Cassio, may have succeeded in causing my body
to bend to his will, but now that I knew the truth, I wouldn't
bend for him any longer.
Damn it! I was looking forward to having a date with
him and now… well, needless to say, it was out the fucking
window.
“Despite Marco’s dwindling forces, he still has support
and the alliances that were faithful to my father. Until we
destroy his leftover businesses, we risk a lot of innocent
people getting hurt if we attack openly.”
I glared at him. He certainly had an answer for
everything. “Well, get to work.” Asshole. However, my
parents taught me well, so I swallowed the insult.
“Well, this is awkward,” Margaret muttered. “Áine wants
to kill them both.”
“Like I said,” I deadpanned. “There is a long list of
people that want the members of the King family dead. If
we killed you two now, people wouldn’t bat an eye.”
“Áine!” Jack’s voice warned but I ignored him. I didn’t
need his babysitting. I could hold my own.
“You can try,” Luca chimed in lightly, his eyes shining
with amusement. “Trust me, we are not that easy to kill.”
Smug asshole. “And if it was that easy to kill off Marco, we
would have done it a long time ago.”
Though I wholeheartedly agreed with killing Marco, the
way he said those words sent chills through my heart. They
had no scruples in killing their family. It sounded like these
two men only had allegiances to themselves. Marco King
had no qualms about anything. He killed women, children,
anyone that got in his way. If these two grew up the same
then I had no doubt they had similar values.
 Was I being slightly hypocritical after the words I spoke
to him over the phone? Undoubtedly.
“Kiddo, Cassio King is our ticket to getting rid of Marco
and pushing him out of our territory.” Jack’s words had me
turning back to my stepfather. “I kept you out of all this,
and I know you don’t know much about what he’s doing,
but trust me when I tell you he has to be eliminated.”
Jack had no idea.
I narrowed my eyes on him. “So what? Use Margaret as
a pawn in some agreement to fix things that people in both
of your worlds fucked up?” I took a deep breath in and then
slowly exhaled. I never lectured Jack or anyone on their
way of life. If they trafficked women, I just killed them.
Other things… well, it was their business. “Please don’t tell
me you trust him. He lied about his own name for Pete’s
sake.”
Jack Callahan was a smart man. He couldn’t just blindly
trust him. Could he? The moment I saw a stormy
expression pass Jack’s eyes, I knew I said the wrong thing.
“What do you mean?” Jack growled. “You two know each
other?”
Shit, I said too much. There was no way I’d tell Jack
about my little rendezvous with Hunter two years ago or six
weeks ago. That probably wouldn’t go over well. Besides,
what happens in Vegas and nightclubs, stays in Vegas and
nightclubs.
Margaret answered before I had a chance to come up
with a neutral response. “We got stuck in the elevator in
Vegas with these two,” she muttered. “That’s all.”
Jack studied my face, but I kept silent. It was better not
to say too much. I bit into my lip to stop any words or
excuses from slipping through my lips. It was a habit to
start blabbing when nervous.
“It’s my middle name,” Cassio chimed in, breaking the
tense silence. “Cassio Hunter King.”
 My head whipped in his direction. Okay, so he omitted a
bit of his name. An omission was still a lie. Right?
I wished I could read this stranger better. I thought I
had come to know him over the last six weeks. Now, I
wasn’t so sure. His expression betrayed none of his
thoughts, and I was desperate to know what he was
thinking. Jack seemed to trust him, and they had a common
goal to take Marco King down. But what if it was a trap; we
couldn’t afford to trust any King.
My eyes studied his face. He was beautiful, high
cheekbones, angular nose, full lips, and jet-black hair. I’d
lie if I said he didn’t impact me. My eyes lowered to his full
lips and my belly clenched. I could remember so well how
those lips felt on me. The only time I ever enjoyed a man’s
touch was him. Only him. And he did so much more. Why
couldn’t I feel that with anyone else? Or even better, why
couldn’t he be anyone, fucking anyone, just not a King.
Pushing all my quivering desire for this man aside, I
focused on the topic at hand.
“Either way, Jack. Marrying Margaret to Cassio King or
any family member of the King family is nuts. And wrong on
so many levels! Those bastards are-”
“Áine, that’s enough!” Jack’s voice held a warning and
his blue eyes darkened. His anger had never been directed
at me. I went to open my mouth to say something but
immediately shut it. There was only so far I could push my
stepfather. But he was crazy if he thought Margaret would
be a sacrificial lamb. I wouldn’t let it happen.
My eyes fleeted back to Hunter… No, not Hunter.
Cassio. Goddamn it! Why did I hate the idea of him being
an enemy so much?

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Twenty-Four

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

C assio Hunter King.

I heard of his ruthlessness, and I wasn’t even an
active part of the mafia world. The stories of men he killed
and his brutality were whispered all over the world. Benito
King was a crazed, bloodthirsty lunatic. But Cassio King, he
was rumored to be a cold killer. Dispassionate. Harsh.
Intense.
Except, his eyes were kind of warm. Mentally, I shook
my head. It was deceiving. Everything about him was
deceiving. Yet, counterintuitive to everything I had just
learned about him, something deep inside of me retaliated
at the knowledge that he was a man I should hate.
I watched him, trying to reconcile that knowledge with
the man that comforted me in the elevator during my panic
attack. The man that ensured my pleasure first and
foremost. With the man that talked to me over the phone.
Yes, there was a hardness about him, but for some reason,
protectiveness and fairness screamed underneath it all.
Maybe my instincts were failing me. I wasn’t great at
reading people, but usually my instinct warned me of bad
people. I called it my self-preservation radar. But my
instinct wasn’t screaming at me to keep away from him.
Instead, even now as we watched each other intensely,
something about him nagged at my memory and the need
to remember was like oxygen.
Maybe it was my imagination. After all, our worlds were
vastly different.
Well, they were until my mother married Jack. Then why
did something stir deep inside my memories every time I
looked at him.
Truthfully, this whole world that Jack belonged to was
such a different world from the one I grew up in. I knew
Jack and his men were involved in shady businesses and
illegal dealings. I also knew some of the families arranged
their daughter’s marriage to gain power or money. It was
mind blowing and wrong on so many levels. Almost like
trafficking but with the parents’ approval. It made me want
to fucking kill them all for even contemplating it.
Either way, it would seem Cassio King was the man
Margaret was supposed to marry, and she was pregnant.
Well, good for her and I fully intended to support her and
defend her against this ridiculous arrangement Jack has
made.
Though I couldn’t deny the bite of jealousy at the idea of
Margaret with Hunter sent through me. Even worse was
the knowledge that the bastard slept with me, knowing he
was engaged to my cousin. Bastard. Goddamn bastard!
“Margaret carrying another man’s child creates a
problem in this plan,” Jack finally concluded. “I gave my
word.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have made plans without running it
by Margaret first,” I snapped. Truthfully, I was agitated at
myself as much as him. “You know, it takes two to make
marriage work.” I turned my head towards Cassio and
Luca. “This bullshit idea of arranged marriages should be
torched to the ground and banned.”
“No arguments from me,” Margaret drawled. “Or maybe
we can force them to marry someone they don’t want. See
how they like it.”
 My lip quirked. “I kind of like that idea. Let’s start with
your brother. Or maybe these two here.”
“Both of you stop it,” Jack warned us with a groan.
We shrugged, sharing a glance. Jack could be tough, but
he’d never hurt us.
“You could still go through with the marriage and just
raise the baby as your own,” Jack suggested to Cassio. I
had to swallow a bite of protests forming on my tongue.
Why did the line ‘I volunteer as tribute’ keep coming to
my mind? Damn Hunger Games. I only wanted to volunteer
so I could get closer to Marco and kill the bastard that
tortured me in my nightmares. Eventually, I’d kill Cassio
too. Maybe. I don’t fucking know.
“That’s just cruel,” I protested. “To let a baby go around
any King member. It’s not the baby's fault you made some
stupid arrangement with him.” I tilted my head in Cassio’s
direction.
“I don’t want to do it.” Margaret’s voice was that of a
wounded animal.
My head snapped to Margaret. There was a trace of an
emotion lurking in her eyes, which I had never seen before.
She is scared, I realized. We both held back our fears, it
would seem.
“I guess that’s that,” I announced. “Can’t force her to do
it.”
“Actually, I could,” Cassio stated calmly. He didn’t seem
upset that Margaret was pregnant. But there was a beast
lurking in that expensive suit, ready to strike. I could
practically taste it. Cassio King had an agenda, I just had to
figure out what it was. “Breaking an arrangement like this
causes wars. In the name of honor, I can demand her death
as retribution. Or Callahan’s.”
“What?” My mouth dropped to the floor. There went the
protectiveness and fairness I attributed to Cassio out the
window. “You would do that?”
 My eyes darted to Jack and I saw the truth in his eyes.
He would let him do that? What kind of stupid honor was
that?
Ruthless. The rumors about Cassio King were true.
He wore a dark suit with a silver watch and diamond
cufflinks, dressing up for the engagement announcement.
The suit accented his broad shoulders and strong body, it fit
him like a glove. If it wasn’t for those tattoos on his hands
that I knew covered his whole arm, and that harshness in
his eyes, he could pass for just another good looking guy. A
totally hot man with a strong body that could smash you to
pieces… but hey, who was worried about that? Not when he
could dish out orgasms to keep you going for years.
“This is a major obstacle in the plan to connect the
Callahan and King line,” Cassio’s voice was sending shivers
down my spine. “Lives are being lost because of my half-
brother and his forceful grip on New York.”
“Well, why don’t you handle your brother?” I snapped.
“After all, he is your brother. Why should Margaret have to
pay the price for your fucked up family relations?”
God, I wished this man was easier to read. I couldn’t tell
whether I pissed him off or he just didn’t give a shit about
what I was saying.
“It is your problem as much as mine,” Cassio drawled.
“Since Marco has his eyes set on Callahan territory and its
women.”
I glanced at Jack for confirmation. Nobody has said
anything about Marco King coming for Callahan territory.
Not that I or Margaret would have known. Jack spoke about
his business only to his men and my mother.
Wait! He said its women.
The meaning of it lingered in the silence while we all sat
watching each other. Jack got up and poured himself a stiff
one. Scotch from the looks of it.
“Drink anyone?” he offered, but everyone shook their
heads in refusal except Margaret.
 “I’ll have one,” Margaret said.
My head snapped to her. “You can’t have alcohol,” I
scolded her.
“Shit,” she muttered. “I forgot.”
There was anguish in her eyes. I’d recognize it
anywhere. She was scared, whether it was about her
pregnancy or what would happen, I wasn’t sure. I wanted
to assure her I’d be on her side, and I wouldn’t let anything
happen. Arrangement or no arrangement. But with Cassio
and Luca King in the room, as well as Jack, I couldn’t say
anything. I just hoped she could read it in my eyes.
The clinking of ice cubes had me returning my attention
to my stepfather. Jack’s hand tightened around his glass,
his knuckles turning white. This was bad, really bad.
“Áine, I didn’t want to do this,” Callahan muttered under
his breath. “I didn’t want to pull you into this, and I
promised your mother I’d keep you out of all of it at all
cost.”
I frowned at his words. It seemed he was going for
cryptic announcements today. From the moment Jack and
Mom got together, he had protected me, but his comment
about keeping me out of all of it made no sense.
“What do you mean?” I questioned him.
Ignoring me, he picked up the phone.
“Tell my wife I need her in my office,” he gritted out into
the headset. The look in his eyes once he hung up was the
one I never saw before. Anxiousness. In all the years, it was
the first time I saw him nervous.
He turned his hardened gaze to Margaret. “You will
leave us now. Stay in the house. I expect you to remain
here for dinner… for Áine.”
Resentment hit me that he’d talk to her like that. “Don’t
speak to her like that,” I warned in a soft voice. “Shit
happens. It’s not her fault.”
“Maybe,” he spoke in a low voice. “But she knew about
the engagement. Getting knocked up was not the way to
respect the agreement. And now you’ll have to pay for it.”
I frowned and confusion hit me. Sharing a look with
Margaret, I saw she wasn’t following either, but his words
upset her. Tears glistened in her eyes. And she never cried.
“It’s okay,” I mouthed low to her. Jack didn’t know crap.
He should blame himself or Cassio King for that matter. My
eyes shifted to the two King members again but their faces
were masks, their expressions unreadable.
After all these years, I never dreamt this would be how
I’d learn the identity of Cassio and Luca King. How did they
keep themselves in the shadows? Not a single picture or
piece of information on them on the net.
“I should go too,” I muttered and was half way sitting up
from my chair. I needed to get away from here and get my
head together.
“No. Stay.” Cassio gave the order, and I froze at his cold
tone. I met Jack’s eyes and he nodded. My sixth sense was
sending warning flares throughout my body. The world was
going to hell in a handbasket if I was taking orders from
Cassio King.
I watched Margaret walk out of the room, throwing me a
worried backward glance.
I smiled at her, although I was sure it was a shaky smile
at best, and again, I mouthed to her I’m good. It took a lot
to get to me. Okay, maybe I feigned being braver than I
really was but it was no use to stress her out too.
Lifting my right brow and faking the bravado, I turned
my attention to all three men. Their eyes on me, I studied
them. Cassio’s expression was unreadable, Luca had
amusement in his, and my stepfather, he seemed agitated
and nervous.
“Okay, will someone start talking? This is grating my
nerves and I still have a drawing to work on for the new
building. I don’t have all night for whatever the hell is
going on.”
 Mentally, I high fived myself. Hopefully, it was
convincing enough. Though probably not, considering these
two men saw me fall apart a month ago in a broken down
elevator.
Cassio’s lips tugged upwards into a half-smile and
confirmed my suspicion. He totally didn’t buy my bravado.
But it gave me a glimpse of the man I met in the club two
years ago and then again in Vegas.
“Should I tell her, or will you, Callahan?” Cassio’s and
Jack’s eyes locked. There was a challenge in his, while
Jack’s gaze held resignation and regret.
“We’ll wait until her mother comes, Cassio,” Jack replied
in a firm tone. Why did I have a hard time thinking of him
as Cassio? He’d forever be Hunter in my mind.
“You know, Jack,” I muttered, “I’m well past the age
where I need Mom’s permission to do anything or hear any
news with her holding my hand.”
“I know, kiddo.” His voice was affectionate, and I had a
feeling whatever I was about to hear would change my
world forever. The room was so quiet that I could hear
seconds ticking off from the clock on the mantel.
The silence was broken when my mother came through
the door, her eyes roaming the room. She nodded at Cassio
and Luca, recognition flickering in her eyes. She knows
them. I didn’t know how I knew, but I was certain she had
met them before. Maybe when Jack arranged this whole
shenanigan and circus of marriage arrangements.
Jack immediately went to her and wrapped his arms
around Mom. “Thank you for coming, love.”
The love I saw in Jack’s eyes every time he gazed upon
my mother made him a good man in my book. I would
forgive him a lot, just on the account he always took care of
my mom. Yes, he was the head of an Irish criminal
organization, but he loved his family and protected it. At all
costs.
 I was happy those two found each other. Happy endings
were what made it all worth it. They both sacrificed years
without each other and finally found a way to each other
again.
“Of course. What’s going on?” They shared a look and I
wondered if it told Mom everything. Sometimes those two
seemed to be on the same wave link or frequency. “Áine,
when did you get here?” she asked, surprised.
“I just got here,” I muttered. My mother came over and
gave me a hug. She always did it. No matter when she saw
me, whether two hours ago or two months ago, she always
gave me a hug like she hadn’t seen me in months. I
returned the hug and pressed a kiss onto her cheek. “You
look nice, Mom.”
She was already dressed for tonight's event wearing an
elegant red gown that came down to her ankles. Her hair
was up in a bun and the only jewelry she wore was a
diamond necklace that Jack gifted her for their wedding.
And her wedding ring. Truthfully, the damn thing was
worth a fortune, so she didn’t need anything else to make a
statement. She might have been in her fifties, but my
mother still looked amazing.
“Working late again?” she asked me with a smile. I
threw a glance down at my outfit. I wore an off-white
business dress and a matching blazer. Nothing fancy, but it
hid the nasty bruise from the bullet I took through the
Kevlar vest. Thank God for the bulletproof vests. The bruise
was well worth it.
I shrugged. “You didn’t give me much notice, so I didn’t
have time to stop at my place to change.”
Her fingers brushed against my cheek, then she looked
back at Jack. “What’s going on?” she asked him again.
Jack took a deep breath in, then exhaled slowly.
“Margaret’s engagement fell through,” Jack started, not
wasting time. He was never the one for beating around the
bush. Mom’s eyes darted to Cassio, and it confirmed my
suspicion that Mom knew who Margaret’s intended was.
“She’s pregnant. Refused to say who the father is.”
“Oh.” That was exactly my response, I thought wryly.
Then something flashed in her eyes and her eyes snapped
to Jack’s. “No, Jack. No, no, no.” She kept shaking her head
in panic, and I wondered what she was saying no to. I
watched the scene unfold, trying to pick up any clues from
their expression and failing. “Please don’t tell me you are
considering what I think.”
The guilt was written all over Jack’s face. It would seem
my stepfather was considering whatever my mother
objected to.
“Jack, you can’t,” she begged. “It’s not fair.”
“I’m sorry, love.” I wasn’t quite sure what he was
apologizing for. “I never expected Margaret to do this.”
“The engagement has to be announced tonight,” Cassio
stated. “The guests are already arriving, and this cannot be
delayed.”
I must have been the only clueless one, as my gaze ping-
ponged between everyone.
My mom gasped on a whimper and my eyes turned back
to her, watching her.
“Emily, my dear... he knows,” Jack’s voice was drenched
with regret. Who knows what? My eyes kept darting
between all of them, waiting for someone to start
explaining. At this rate, my eyeballs would get a whiplash.
Mom’s eyes sought out Cassio. “Please, you can’t,” she
choked out. “S-she… she can’t. Please.”
I frowned. My mother never begged, so it had to be
something big. Watching all four of them, it started to feel
like it was something critical I was missing here. I chewed
on my lower lip, waiting for someone to start explaining
before I exploded with tension. My head kept turning back
and forth between Jack and my mother, then to Cassio and
Luca, in anticipation for someone to start talking. If I didn’t
stop, I’d give myself a serious case of whiplash or dizziness.
My eyes darted to Cassio and Luca, but they seemed to
know exactly what was going on. There was no curiosity
nor surprise on their faces. Although maybe they were just
good actors.
“Can someone clue me in?” I finally chimed in. I couldn’t
take the tension any longer.
“C’mon, guys,” I choked half-jokingly. “Y’all are starting
to freak me out.”
Jack finally took pity on me.
“Kiddo, the only way not to break this arrangement with
the King family is for you to marry in place of Margaret.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Twenty-Five

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

M y lips parted as I watched my stepfather, waiting

for him to start laughing at his bad joke, but his
expression remained grim. A strangled laugh escaped me,
my stomach dropped, and I almost choked on my next
breath.
“Right,” I scoffed. “You almost got me. You said the
Callahan and King line had to come together. You seem to
forget I’m not a Callahan.”
The room was eerily quiet and Mom shared a fleeting
glance with Jack. Something big was about to happen. I
didn’t know how I knew it, but I felt it in my gut. I could
hear my heartbeat pulsing in my ears… or was it someone
else’s. Or maybe it was just thundering in my ears as I
watched my stepfather and mother, waiting… not sure for
what.
“Áine, baby,” it was my mother that finally broke the
silence. “Jack is your father.”
Boom!
“Stepfather,” I corrected, my tone hoarse.
“No, baby.” I could see my mother teetering on the edge,
her hands scrunched into fists; the material of her gown
trapped between her fingers. “Jack is your biological
father.”
 Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
“What the fuck?” I exploded, blood rushing in my ears.
“This is not even funny.”
“Áine! Language, please.” My mother was worried about
the language after she just dropped this bombshell.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I hissed
furiously. “We are going to worry about my language after
you drop a bomb like that? You two are grasping at straws
right now… this is just some temporary way to delay you
finding another cousin to marry this guy.” I pointed with my
head towards Cassio, his good looks completely wiped out
of my mind. He no longer counted in my book at all. I think.
“When in fact, you shouldn’t have made the arrangement in
the first place!”
My anger simmered that Mom would throw a bomb on
me, just like that. In front of strangers at that.
“No, it is the truth. Jack is your father. Honey, you were
never supposed to know.” The strain in my mother’s voice
was clear but what the fuck! “It’s a complicated story.”
“You don’t say!” Anger welled in the pit of my stomach.
“It didn’t occur to you to share that piece of information
with me for the past twenty-five years.” I rose off my chair
and glared at Cassio and Luca. There was no doubt in my
mind they knew, the question was how. “They knew! So
how in the fuck didn’t I know?”
“Kiddo, it wasn’t your mother’s fault.” Jack jumped to
my mother’s defense. He always defended her, and until
today, I loved that about him. But right now, I resented it.
“Oh, I am pretty sure it is,” I argued in a slightly
elevated voice, not caring who heard us, locking my eyes
on Mom and Jack. “Because we all know how babies are
made.” Jack’s hand reached up to pull at his hair while my
mother’s knuckles were so white now from her hard
clenching. “Did Dad know?”
I knew my voice sounded accusatory but damn it.
Everything I had ever known, just went up in smoke. No,
not smoke. Fucking flames! My mom’s lips thinned and her
shoulders slumped.
“Well, did he?” I asked again, my own voice sounding
high-pitched to my ears.
“Baby, we should have this conversation in private.”
My gut reaction was to start screaming, throwing stuff,
but instead, I took a calming breath. And another. Breathe
in. Breathe out. Again.
It was the first time I had used my breathing exercise for
anger rather than claustrophobic fear and panic.
“Why bother?” I uttered, disgusted. “It would seem they
already know. I’m the only one clueless here.”
“Don’t be sassy, Áine,” Mom spat angrily. “I’m still your
mother.”
Her anger only fueled my rage further.
“Did. Dad. Know?” I gritted through my teeth.
My mother and I locked gazes, the battle of wills we
never had finally happening.
Then she took a deep breath in and exhaled in
resignation.
“Yes.” Taken aback, I stared at her in shock. It wasn’t
what I expected. “Thomas knew you weren’t biologically
his. We struggled getting pregnant and years of fertility
treatments and miscarriages took a toll. Years of trying
wore us down. Your Grandma Gladys passed away, and I
came back home alone for the funeral. I ran into Jack. One
thing led to another and we-”
I waved my hand in dismissal and to stop her from
detailing their sexual encounter. Because ewww.
“Okay, I don’t need the gruesome details.” I stood up
from my spot and started pacing back and forth. All these
years, I was completely clueless. No wonder Jack welcomed
me into his family with open arms. “Jesus, this is so fucked
up.”
“Honey, please try to understand.”
I stopped my pacing and glared at her.
 “Understand what?” I uttered back angrily. “That you
decided to have someone else’s kid.” My eyes went to Jack.
“And you were fine with it? Having someone else raise your
kid? I honestly don’t remember ever seeing you until you
started dating Mom.”
Jack remained numb, refusing to answer.
“He didn’t know,” my mom whispered. “Until you were
about fourteen.”
I frowned. Fourteen. That year was a blur. I could barely
remember any of it. The pain in my temple increased, and I
pinched the top of my nose to ease it. It wasn’t time for a
headache.
I walked over to the window of Jack’s office that looked
out onto the entrance of the house. I could see a line of
cars with people pulling up. Jack’s hand selected
associates. For the engagement party. It was supposed to
be Margaret and Cassio’s announcement. I wondered if it
even mattered to him who he married. And how in the hell
did he know I was Jack’s biological daughter? Did everyone
know except for me? I wished Margaret would have told me
about her pregnancy, maybe we could have done
something. I would have been more prepared.
“Hell will freeze over before I’ll marry any member of
the King family,” I finally said, turning around to face my
audience. “And this damn love triangle with Dad…” Shit,
which Dad? “Jack and Dad,” I corrected myself, “...is
beyond messed up.” I glared at Jack and my mom, then
shook my head again. “So fucking messed up.”
“Baby, it wasn’t like we planned to get pregnant.”
“Honestly, Mom, I don’t think I can stomach this right
now. I haven’t eaten lunch and this revelation just kind of
soured my mood.”
I went to leave when Jack’s voice stopped me.
“Unless you agree to take Margaret’s place,” Jack said
in a strained voice, “we’ll be forced to break the agreement
and me go back on my word. It will be the first time I have
done that in my life, but for you, I will.”
His words made me stop and my hand faltered before
reaching for the doorknob.
I raised my eyes to the ceiling. Way to make me feel
shitty.
I knew enough to understand breaking your word in
Jack’s world could mean death. Jesus, he was my father.
Even before I knew that, I’d never want him dead and
would do anything to save him. Of course, I wouldn’t want
him in trouble for me. Though theoretically he managed to
make this mess.
Today was not a good day.
I slowly turned around and met four sets of eyes. I could
see anguish in Mom’s and worry in Jack’s. I just wished I
could read Cassio better. Strangely, Luca seemed amused
but Cassio… I just couldn’t get a single emotion out of his
dark eyes.
Careful what you wish for, right? Just seconds before I
found out this man was Cassio King, I almost volunteered
to take Margaret’s spot. And now… well, now everything
went to fucking hell.
“Now what?” I bit out, facing my parents and the Kings.
The Kings, I scoffed to myself. How appropriate? They sat
there and even though they were in Jack’s home, they
portrayed power and dominance.
I weighed my options, but there weren’t that many. If I
said no, Jack would be in trouble. Mom too. Marriage never
crossed my mind. I was still too young and had previously
had issues in the physical department. The thought of
marriage and any physical closeness that came along with
it had sent terror down my spine.
But with this man, my body just responded. In the best
way possible and butterflies worked overtime. So okay…
from that aspect, I was on board with marital activities.
There was no doubt he’d expect me to sleep with him. Men
like that just didn’t take no for an answer. Not that a fiber
of my body wanted to say no to him. Even now, a tingling
sensation inched all over my skin.
I peered Cassio’s way under my lashes. He was still my
enemy. The secret business I inherited from my father…
crap, I guess he wasn’t my biological father. I couldn’t think
about that right now! But I could get useful information if I
was connected to the Kings. It was one way to bring them
down. For the past five years, all we managed was
intercepting some of their shipments and almost killing
ourselves in the process.
Maybe I’d just play along until I brought them all down.
And what better way than to do it from the inside. There
was no way in hell I’d sit back and do nothing while the
Kings profited from smuggling women and forcing them
into sex slaves. Besides, they had to pay for killing my
father.
And at the same time get laid, my pussy screamed. I
shook my head with disbelief. Something was seriously
wrong with my priorities.
But then Hunter’s words from our phone call pierced
through my brain.
“My father, who wasn’t much of one, wasn’t a good man.
He destroyed a lot of families.” Wasn’t that what he said?
Maybe he was working against Benito and Marco King all
along. All this was just too much information thrown my
way.
“Baby, if you-” my mother started speaking, but I quickly
stopped her.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I blurted out quickly, scared I’d change
my mind. At the minimum, this agreement would buy me
some time. I had some time before we sealed it, and I
walked down the aisle.
I turned my gaze to Cassio. Something flashed in his
eyes, but he masked it so quickly, I couldn’t hone in on it.
Why did I get a sense this man had his own agenda and
dangerous secrets? And without a doubt, I felt like we were
all playing into his scheme.
“Áine, are you sure?” Jack questioned me. I was
surprised he would even give me a chance to refuse. I
expected relief from him and immediate acceptance.
Instead, there was worry etched on his face. My mother
wasn’t much better. She was always a worrier so it was no
surprise this latest development set her on edge.
“If you’d rather I don’t do it,” I muttered, “I’m perfectly
fine with that too.”
We watched each other and now that Mom said Jack was
my biological dad, it kind of made sense. I must have been
blind not to notice it before. From the moment I met him,
he made me feel at ease. Even as the truth unfolded about
the business dealings he was in, I still felt safe under his
protection. I coughed it up to Jack’s charm.
The color of his eyes is the exact shade of mine, the
thought stuck me. In fact, Margaret and her brothers… we
all shared the same color eyes. Neither one of my parents
had blue eyes. When I questioned my mother, she said the
color came from my dad’s side of the family. I guess she
didn’t lie.
When you lie, Áine, stick to the truth as much as
possible. Those were the words of my dad, well turns out
not the real dad, the prime minister. He must have given
the same tip to my mother.
“Can I have a moment with Áine?” Cassio’s question had
me darting my eyes his way. What could he possibly want to
talk about alone?
Maybe he wants to give me another orgasm, I thought
wryly. I mentally rolled my eyes and slapped myself.
Orgasms were not the priority here.
Jack’s eyes came to me, questioning me silently whether
I was okay with it. I nodded.
“Okay, then,” Jack agreed, concluding the conversation.
“We’ll give you two some privacy. We have to go welcome
our guests. You two come out when you are ready.”
Jesus, I wasn’t ready for this. I nodded without a word
and noted Cassio did the same. Luca and Jack headed out
of the office, my mother lingering hesitantly back.
“It’s ok, Mom,” I assured her.
She came to me and wrapped me into a hug. “I’m sorry,
baby. I never wanted you to find out... this way.”
I had a sense she meant to say she never meant for me
to find out at all, but I kept the words back. I hugged her
back. She was a good mother and she loved me, always
there for me. Who was I to judge her? Though telling me
the truth would have been nice.
She took a step back and I nodded. Then she tilted her
head in Cassio’s direction and headed out of the office,
leaving the two of us alone.
I sat back in the chair. Cassio sat composed, opposite of
me, barely a few feet away from me while I just went
through several lifetime shocks. It took less than thirty
minutes for my entire world to turn upside down.
We locked gazes and heat rushed through my body,
going dangerously south. Jesus, this wasn’t healthy. I
drowned in those brown eyes, a flicker of something
familiar in them pulling me in deeper and deeper.
My temple throbbed and an image flashed in my mind.
Dark tunnel, sounds of bullets in the distance, a man
running with me in his arms. His crisp scent with
something dark and woody. Cedar scent.
I blinked my eyes and stared at Cassio. That scent! It
was familiar; I could smell it now. It wasn’t Jack’s cologne.
A sharp, piercing pain shot through my skull, making my
eyes tear from the intensity of it. I pinched my nose, then
followed by rubbing my temple.
Each time I looked into Cassio’s eyes, I felt sucker
punched straight into my lungs and my memory revolted. It
demanded to know why he caused my mind to fumble.
 I frowned. How appropriate! He made my mind and my
body fumble while he seemed completely unaffected.
Cassio was unaffected but I thought the man I came to
know as Hunter would have been. Maybe? So damn
confusing.
He sat back casually, his suit jacket unbuttoned,
revealing he had a gun holster underneath it. Not that I
was surprised, since he was part of the mafia. Most of the
men that worked for Jack, including Jack, wore those on a
daily basis. I would start wearing one around my thigh
starting tomorrow. Hell if I’d be caught unaware and
vulnerable.
Geez, my father was probably rolling in his grave seeing
that I had agreed to marry someone in the mafia. Not just
someone! A member of the family that killed him.
I studied Cassio’s face. He was extremely handsome
with that jet-black hair and golden skin. But his eyes I liked
the most. Even with the knowledge of who he was and that
I shouldn’t like anything about him, I loved his eyes.
I bet with that face and that body, he had women
throwing themselves at him around each corner. Benito
King wasn’t a bad looking guy, though he looked a lot
better dead in my book. It would seem Cassio, just like his
father, was into power and building an empire. Or did he
build it already and this was his last claim to the throne? I
wasn’t part of Jack’s world nor dealings, but I knew enough
that connecting Callahan’s name to the King’s would make
Cassio King live up to his last name.
Somehow the knowledge that connecting his empire
with Callahan’s was Cassio’s main objective irked me. And
that he was going to marry Margaret left a slightly bitter
taste in my mouth, especially after the night we shared in
Vegas and things we shared over the last six weeks via
texts.
I was envious. And I hated it! I have never been the
envious type, and I certainly shouldn’t give a damn about
any member of the King family. The only objective was to
destroy them all. Yet now, I hesitated.
“Nice to see you again, Áine,” he purred in his deep
voice and it felt like a gentle caress by the wind. A tremor
went through my body at the thought of him touching me.
Shit!
Now that everyone cleared out of the office, his face
wasn’t a cold, unmoving mask. He seemed more
approachable, relaxed. I found that I liked him relaxed,
despite everything, which was insane.
He studied me just as curiously as I studied him. And
there was that sinfully arrogant smile. Like he knew
something I didn’t. All my bravado melted away as we
stared at each other, this chemistry between us burning it
all to ash. Truth was, I wanted to explore this attraction
further. Enemy or not. It was what had kept me going for
the past six weeks, and I thought he wanted to explore it
too. The question was who would be the victor in the end.
“So,” I started, my voice raspier than I’d like.
“So,” he repeated with a small quirk of his lip. I had a
sense this man rarely smiled.
“What should I call you?” I questioned him. We might as
well start with easy questions. “Hunter or Cassio? Or
King?” I added the last bit sarcastically.
“Only my mother called me Hunter,” he replied. “You
can call me whatever you’d like.”
Oh, I could come up with a few creative words.
I chuckled despite myself. “That’s leaving the door wide
open for interpretation. You know that, right?” He didn’t
seem concerned. “I could start with... douchebag,” I added.
I had to stop myself from saying hottie. Good God, I had to
exercise some self-control.
But then his words hit me. He said only his mother
called him Hunter. While the information on Cassio King
was scarce, or nonexistent, there was one article that stood
out. It was about his mother, the beautiful Penelope
DiMauro.
It clicked then. His mother; I bet he was going against
his brother Marco because of his mother. I recalled a
picture of a beautiful woman that accompanied the article.
She had a sad smile on her face, an infant in her arm and
holding a little boy’s hand. He couldn’t be older than six or
so. It had to be Cassio. The column said she killed herself,
driven to madness.
“How old are you anyhow?” I asked him when in fact,
there were more important questions I wanted to ask.
“Forty.”
My lips parted in shock. He surprised me. He didn’t look
forty. Not at all!
“Hmmm,” I muttered. “That’s a significant age gap.”
But then he wasn’t expecting to marry me, was he? I’m
not his first choice. There it was again, the little green
monster in my heart. Maybe the problem was that I got a
taste of him and how delicious sinning would be with my
perfect stranger. And since that day, I had been dying for
another taste of him.
If I had known who he was, would I have ever let him
touch me? Maybe he preferred women like my cousin and
now he was stuck with me?
Margaret was twenty-eight. Even that was quite an age
gap. But between me and him, fifteen years… yeah, that
was quite significant.
Regardless, my body liked Cassio’s touch. The incident
in the elevator from Las Vegas flashed in my mind. I was in
such a panic that his touch actually calmed me, which in
itself was bizarre. Usually when panic hit, it was hard to
pull me back. My mother had never been able to do it. But
this man did it almost effortlessly.
“Your father killed my dad,” I blurted out.
“I’m sorry.” He seemed sincere. Our phone conversation
flashed in my mind - when he spoke of his father hurting
the families of his best friends. “Thomas Evans was a good
man.” I nodded. He was a good man. He sacrificed a lot to
fight crime on flesh trading. “He intercepted quite a few of
Benito’s shipments. So Benito retaliated, in more than one
way.”
How many ways? I wanted to know everything. I knew
Benito had been after Dad for years until he finally got him.
A bullet in the skull and my dad perished forever. I heard
Benito got a bullet too, and I couldn’t help but think of the
irony. He got what he deserved, and the only regret was
that I wasn’t the one that put a bullet into his skull.
“When is the wedding supposed to happen?” I rasped
the question.
“This weekend.”
“Isn’t that kind of pushy?” I retorted dryly. “You two
were going to get engaged only today.”
“This has been planned out for a while.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course.” Well, this was going swell.
“What if I had plans for the weekend?” And every other for
the rest of my life!
“I guess they have changed now,” he retorted with dark
amusement in his tone.
Easy for him to say. I had a secret life I led and nobody
besides Margaret knew about it. It was the main reason I
insisted on my own apartment. It allowed me to go in and
out as needed without additional explanations.
“Considering this was kind of thrown on me last minute,
the date should be changed.”
“No.”
Just no! No explanation. Nothing. Just you do as I say.
Yeah, he was crazy if he thought that was how it would go.
I stood up from my chair, smoothing my palms over my
dress, then strode to the door with my back stiff, but before
I exited, I threw Cassio a glance over my shoulder.
“You might have won the battle, Cassio King,” I warned
him. “But I’ll win the war.”
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Twenty-Six

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

L eaning against the wall, I watched Áine handle the

guests throughout our engagement dinner. She
refused to change. Whatever. Fine with me. I’d choose my
battles wisely with her.
With my hands in my pockets, I observed her smile and
how she gave the same amount of attention to each guest.
Diplomacy was ingrained into her from an early age. She
grew up in the spotlight, thanks to Thomas Evans’ rapidly
growing political career until his untimely death.
She would be a perfect wife. From the look on her face,
nobody would have ever guessed this arrangement
happened with a last minute change in the bride.
Fake bride for a real bride, I thought smugly to myself.
Nobody knew it except Luca, Nico, and myself. And
Luciano, of course. I wished Nico and Bianca could have
made it. She wasn’t feeling well, and I imagined thinking
about being surrounded by mobsters didn't sit well with my
sister nor my brother-in-law.
My sister.
I would have never dreamt I had one. Yet here I was and
couldn’t be happier. She was family and with her
upbringing outside the underworld, she could help me with
Áine. Both my sister and my little nieces. Nobody could
resist them. Even Alexei cracked a smile with Hannah and
Arianna around.
Áine kept a diplomatic smile on her face, thanking
everyone graciously as they came forward and
congratulated her. Jack announced earlier to the audience
of close friends and family, mainly consisting of the Irish,
that Áine was his biological daughter, and he couldn’t be
prouder of her. All things considered, she took the news
well.
Though I wasn’t fooled by her easy acceptance. My
instinct was telling me she’d fight me every step of the way.
Besides, her parting words when we left Jack’s office left no
room for interpretation. She certainly had my attention.
“Why are you so gloomy?” Luciano stood next to me,
sipping his favorite poison. Cognac. Jack ensured he had a
special one just for Luciano.
“I’m not gloomy.” I watched Áine shake hands with yet
another man, with Jack by her side. It fucking burned me to
see any man touching her. It was platonic, but I didn’t give
a shit. It made me want to cut off the hands of every man
that dared touch that soft skin.
Maybe I’d start with Chad Stewart. Yeah, that would lift
my spirits for sure. I disliked the prick. A burn radiated in
my chest at the thought of him with my woman. I’d smash
his pretty face and break every bone in his body if he ever
looked her way again.
Sick motherfucker.
It was better if I didn’t think about him right now.
Otherwise, I might scare my future bride.
“How is Grace?” I asked Luciano to change the subject.
I could instantly sense Luciano’s don’t fuck with me
posture ease.
“She’s good. Another few months and the baby will be
here.” To say Luciano and Grace had a rough beginning
was an understatement. I didn’t expect him to bring her
nor their son. If he could, he’d keep them all locked up. Just
like my brother-in-law. Luckily neither my sister nor Grace
took any shit from their husbands. “I should probably give
you a heads up.”
I cocked my eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
“Grace wants you to be the baby's godfather. You know I do
too, but I was going to let her choose and she brought you
up.”
That was unexpected, especially knowing what Benito
put her through. A strong emotion swirled in my chest. My
best friend’s wife trusted me with their unborn child. Fuck,
was I turning into a softy?
I cleared my throat to ensure my voice wouldn’t reflect
any emotions that currently invaded my heart. “I would be
honored. Is she sure though?” I questioned him.
“She should pick me,” Luca chimed in, gulping his drink.
“I’m better with children. Just ask my nieces. And soon, I’ll
have more to spoil too.”
“Luca,” I groaned. “Fuck, brother. They wanted to tell
everyone themselves.”
“Grace already knows,” Luciano chimed in. “Those two
are doing research on nurseries and baby safe paint
colors.”
“It will be a baby fest for the next few years,” Luca
muttered. “I’ll go broke.”
All three of us chuckled. With Luca’s latest venture into
the oil business, it would take him a hundred lifetimes of
extravagant living to go broke.
I sensed Áine’s gaze on me. It burned through me,
pulling my eyes in her direction.
“Cassio,” she greeted us with a light tilt to her gaze, like
a queen greeting her subjects. Her voice was soft, and it
soaked through my skin and straight to my groin. Jesus, I
couldn’t wait to take her to bed again and have her as my
own. But there was something else too.
A flicker of fear deep in my chest.
 We all knew it wasn’t good to love something too much
in our world. And the fear of losing something you wanted
so much was ingrained into me from an early age. After all,
I had a perfect tormentor.
My father.
He liked to take it all away, starting with my mother. He
was gone now but certain things weren’t rational. When it
came to Áine, the visceral need to protect her, keep her
with me at all costs, overwhelmed me. A hunger to tie her
to me forever roared in my chest and bled into my veins. I
have waited for this for the past two years and now that the
time was nearing, the need to make her mine fueled my
obsession. Not to mention that her side gig was making me
extra paranoid.
“Luciano,” Jack greeted my best friend. “Áine, I’ll let
your husband introduce you.”
Áine’s head snapped his way and the words flew out.
“He’s not my husband,” she gritted annoyedly.
I couldn’t help but think back to Bianca’s wedding day
when my sister spat out those same words to Nico.
Callahan patted her hand affectionately. “I know. You did
good, kiddo.”
“Well, you know me,” Luca tried to ease the situation.
“You don’t have to smile for me. I know you want to gouge
my eyes out.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” she replied in a dry tone. “At least
I don’t have to pretend then.”
Her eyes darted to Luciano and recognition flickered in
them. She remembered him from the nightclub two years
ago. It wasn’t as if Luciano was an easily forgettable guy.
“Áine, this is Luciano Vitale. A close friend.”
She extended her hand. “Mr. Vitale, nice to see you
again.” Her tone said otherwise.
He chuckled. “Please call me Luciano. Mr. Vitale is my
father.”
 Áine acknowledged him with a slight nod, but she kept
her reserved posture.
“Wait. You’ve met him before?” Jack questioned.
Áine shrugged. “No, I didn’t meet him. I saw him a few
years back in passing.”
The pointed look she shot our way told us all to keep our
mouths shut. Lovely, another woman to boss us all around.
Though, this one I’d keep and have by my side until death
do us part.
Luciano must have gotten the message, because he
replied, “Yeah, I can’t remember where exactly. A club
maybe.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Not surprising. Margaret and Áine
liked to party.” His daughter shot him an annoyed
expression but said nothing. “How is your wife, Luciano?”
Jack asked. “I hear you are expecting another child?”
I spotted Chad Stewart the moment he entered the
room. I gritted my teeth and the entire room faded out
except for him. The prick actually dared to show up here
and the blood in my veins burned hotter. I itched to pull out
my gun and shoot him, right here and now. Especially,
considering the information I found out from Nico.
“She is doing well. Accusing me of feeding her too
much.” I noted absentmindedly that Luciano answered
Jack.
“Speaking about eating, I’m starving,” Áine muttered
under her breath.
“Let’s eat then,” Luca announced. “After all, you are a
guest of honor.”
Áine glared at him and opened her mouth to say
something when she froze. I didn’t have to wonder who was
the cause of it. Jack, Luciano, and my brother followed her
gaze.
“Oh, the state’s attorney is here,” Luca announced the
obvious. “I wonder if he’ll get shot tonight,” he muttered
under his breath.
 Chad spotted Áine and walked towards us. His eyes
never wavered from my fiancée, his sleazy blonde hair
heavy with gel and a fake smile across his face. If he
thought I’d allow him anywhere near my woman, he was a
bigger idiot than I thought.
“Mr. Callahan,” Chad greeted him. “I must admit, I was
surprised I wasn’t invited. Friend of a friend mentioned
there was an engagement party, and I couldn’t resist
coming. I hope you don’t mind.”
Yeah, I fucking minded.
“So why are you here?” I asked him. I signaled my men
that stood right outside the ballroom. “I believe I told you
once to stay away from her.”
He reached for Áine’s hand but before he could take it, I
grabbed him by his wrist and twisted it so he couldn’t
move. “Don’t touch my wife,” I snarled.
I realized too late that I’d called her my wife. She wasn’t
yet. I waited for the correction to come, never moving my
eyes away from the weasel. To my surprise, Áine didn’t say
a word.
Instead, the air stilled and everyone’s eyes were on us,
watching the scene.
“I can greet an old friend,” the sleazebag tried to say,
but his voice was too squeaky.
“No, you can’t,” I deadpanned. “Not unless you are
ready to have your tongue cut out.”
The blood in my veins burned me to think of what this
fucker had worked up with Marco. I should just shoot him
now and end him for good.
“Too many people,” Luca muttered. He must have read
my bloodthirsty thoughts.
So I’d have to be satisfied with throwing him out. My
men came up, and when he tried to reach out for Áine’s
hand, I shoved him away.
“Take him out,” I ordered my men. Chad’s eyes fleeted
towards Áine, as if expecting her to save him. “I can gouge
your eyeballs out too,” I added in a menacing voice. “It
would make my fucking day.”
“Áine-” Chad attempted but didn’t get to finish.
My men ushered him out in a not so gentle manner. I’d
have to put security on Áine. I didn’t trust Chad not to get
his filthy paws on her. At least Marco didn’t pretend to be a
good guy. This one went around pretending he was better
when in fact he was even worse.
Once he was gone, I turned to my future wife and found
her face pale as death. She swallowed hard, then met my
gaze.
“Are you crazy?” she rasped in a low voice.
“Maybe,” I admitted. “But I don’t tolerate men that use
force on women and children.”
“What do you mean by that, Cassio?” Jack inquired.
After all, he preferred Chad Steward for his daughter, but it
was only because he didn’t know that weasel was as good
as I did.
Her gaze flickered to her father then back to me. “He’s
the state’s attorney. He helps victims,” Áine defended him
and the ugly jealousy slithered through my veins. “The King
family uses force on women and children.”
“Not all,” Luca growled, taking a step towards her, but I
held him back.
There were a few words I wanted to say myself but I
pressed my lips tightly. This was neither the time nor place.
“Cassio?” Jack asked again.
“I’ll send you information,” I told him curtly. “I’ll assign
a guard for Áine.” It was a moot point since she had one
already. He didn’t need to know that. “I know you have
your own. I don’t want Chad Stewart getting close to her.”
Jack nodded and that was settled. A strangled laugh
escaped Áine, her eyes darting between her father,
Luciano, Luca, and myself.
“What? I don’t get a say?” she challenged. “Would you
like to decide when my bathroom breaks are?”
 “You can decide on your own bathroom breaks,” I
drawled. “But in the matter of Chad Stewart, no. You don’t
have any say.” Her safety was non-negotiable to me.
She bit into her lip and narrowed her eyes on me.
“Whatever you send in terms of information, Cassio King, I
want it too.”
She strode away from me without a backward glance
and her back stiff.
“Man, this marriage is going to be awesome,” Luciano
shattered the silence. “Didn’t I tell you redheads are
trouble, Cassio?”
I flipped him the bird. Callahan remained in his spot, his
brow furrowed.
“What is this information, Cassio?” he inquired. “I don’t
want Áine mixed up in anything dangerous.”
Callahan didn’t even realize she already was. Between
the belles auction and running The Rose Rescue, she was in
danger all the time. I would have to discuss The Rose
Rescue with her, and if she needed help, I’d help her. But
she wouldn’t be putting her life at risk like that.
“Our prestigious state’s attorney is working with
Marco,” I told him. There was no need for elaboration. His
expression darkened. “Callahan, he’s mine,” I growled in
warning.
“You make it fucking fast, Cassio,” Jack gritted.
“Otherwise, I’m finishing him.”
He walked away from us and headed straight for his
wife. The word on the street was that he shared everything
with her. I believed it, although it was slightly ironic that a
woman who once supported a prime minister now
supported the head of the Irish mafia.
I couldn’t blame him. Those images of the beaten girl
were seared in my mind. I couldn’t even imagine the
impact it had on her.
Ten minutes later, we finally sat down for a late formal
dinner, being almost nine at night.
 A little groan left her lips as her eyes searched out the
waiter, realizing he was nowhere in sight. She sat straight,
her lower lip between her teeth. It was as if she debated
how to go about getting her food faster.
She looked beautiful, despite the fact that she still wore
her business dress. The cream dress was elegant, but it
showed off her figure perfectly. Strong and lean. And her
hair. Jesus, even pulled up into a ponytail it reflected the
lights, and it was like watching embers of fire dance around
in her hair. Her slim arms and shoulders were at full
display after she ditched her blazer that matched her dress.
It wasn’t exactly an engagement dinner dress, but how was
she to know she’d be getting engaged?
I wouldn’t have cared less if she wore jeans. I just
wanted her.
The ring on her finger fit just right. When I took her cold
fingers into mine and slid the engagement ring onto it, she
uttered with sarcasm that it was a good thing her and
Margaret wore the same ring size. They didn’t, but she
didn’t need to know that.
I flagged a waiter from the other side of the room.
“My fiancée is hungry,” I told him. Áine stiffened at the
title. “Ensure she gets her dinner first.” Her ocean blue
eyes snapped to me and a blush colored her cheeks. Before
she had a chance to say anything else, I asked her, “What
are you in the mood for?”
For a heartbeat of a second, I thought she’d argue with
me but she must have been more hungry than eager to
argue.
“Food,” she muttered. “Anything. Just not liver. Yuck, not
liver. But please don’t take forever. I’m ready to chew on
my arm.”
Luca chuckled, hearing her words. “Hungry much?”
Only the three of us were seated at our round table.
Luciano headed back home. Missing his wife, no doubt.
Margaret was supposed to be seated at our table too, but
she disappeared, which was fine by me; though I was
surprised she didn’t stick around for her cousin. Those two
were close.
I watched my soon to be wife as she placed her order.
Could this woman and I have a decent, happy marriage?
My sister and Nico were finally at the point of happiness
despite the rough beginning. At least that was how it
looked. Bianca made it clear she appreciated Luca and my
offer to eliminate her husband if he gave her grief, but she
was keeping him. She loved him, and I was happy for both
of them. Luciano and Grace found their middle ground and
worked out their shit.
Fuck, I wanted the same. And Bianca’s words of forcing
my bride down the aisle rang in my ears. Truth was I didn’t
want to force Áine down the aisle, but I also didn’t want to
wait years.
“I didn’t have much for lunch,” Áine admitted
reluctantly, once the waiter left our table.
“You should never skip a meal,” Luca told her. “Never
know when the next one is coming.”
Irritation flashed across her face but she quickly hid it.
“Hmmm-mm.”
“So, you are an architect?” Luca inquired, trying to get
her to talk. “Your father mentioned you are working on a
big project.”
She shrugged her one shoulder. “He thinks every project
I work on is a big project.” Then realizing she referred to
Jack Callahan as her father, she continued, “And it’s Jack.
Just Jack.”
“He’s proud,” I told her. It was true. The pride in Jack’s
eyes was hard to miss when he watched his daughter.
The day I carried her into the plane from the rescue
mission seemed centuries ago; there was so much that
happened since then. I had a suspicion about Jack being
Áine’s father from the moment I realized he wasn’t using
her to garner a favor with the prime minister. But it was his
actions that confirmed it. The way he watched Áine was his
tell. There was pride, unconditional love, and devotion in
his eyes each time he spoke to Áine. She and her mother
were the most precious things in this world and he would
give up everything for them. I was surprised nobody else
could see the connection between father and daughter. It
was so obvious, but everyone seemed oblivious to it for
years.
That was fine by me. Their blindness was my gain. I
stored that information along with the debt he owed me for
the right time. The night Áine ran into me at my nightclub
two years ago, I knew how I wanted Jack’s repayment. In
the form of his daughter.
“How is the designing project coming along?” I asked
her, although I knew. I owned the company and she got that
project by design. I trusted her to do the job, and I knew
she loved that project from the little we talked about over
text messages.
She was working on a skyrise project that would become
a secured shelter for women that fell victim to sexual
trafficking. It was befitting that she was working on a
resolution that my father and brother Marco caused. The
majority of human trafficking over last thirty years was
initiated by the King family. Obviously, she knew that
considering how much she hated them… us.
“It’s going well,” she replied without elaborating. It
would seem Áine wouldn’t be the type of woman to reveal it
all or even volunteer information. At least not until we
reached some middle ground. She might hold the grudge
for a while because I omitted the full truth from her. “So
what business are you two in? Export and import? On top of
nightclubs, hotels, and casinos? That must be strenuous.”
Ah, so she remembered all our conversations. Her last
words held an undertone of sarcasm, her smile on her face
revealing none of it. But the mocking was unmistakably
there. It was obvious Callahan didn’t apprise her of his own
business, so he certainly wouldn’t educate his daughter on
my businesses. But Áine was smart. If she figured out her
father’s business, she knew stuff about ours too. Besides,
there was obviously dislike there. Her disgust and anger
was unmistakable once she learned who I was.
“Something like that,” I answered her, in a similar
mocking tone.
The food arrived and she didn’t bother waiting for us.
Placing a napkin onto her lap, she dug right in.
Upon first bite, she closed her eyes and her expression
was one of pure bliss. The moan that left Áine’s lips went
straight to my groin. Her little noises were what wet
teenage dreams were made out of. I have waited too long
for this, to make her mine. There was no reason to wait. I
wanted Áine as my wife. Today!
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, the moment she chewed up
her food and swallowed. Just as she swallowed my cum
when she sucked me off in Vegas. Yeah, I had to get a grip.
I firmly pushed inappropriate thoughts of my fiancée out of
my mind. While my mind succeeded, my cock didn’t quite
cooperate. “This is so freaking good. And I’m so hungry.”
My brother laughed. It was strange to hear him laugh
twice now in a matter of minutes. He usually didn’t laugh
around strangers although she technically wasn’t a
stranger. “Don’t apologize. It is nice to see a woman enjoy
her food.”
She just nodded and kept on eating. It was a good thing
I kept a personal chef on my staff. He’d ensure she was fed
her favorite dishes. Despite her slim build, she could eat.
Then just as quickly she started, she was done.
“If I take one more bite,” she grinned, “I’ll explode. I’m
done.”
“No, you’re not,” I told her. “Didn’t your mom teach you
to finish your dinner?”
She rolled her eyes. “First, you won’t be dictating any
area of my life. So you better stop that before it goes too
far. And second, yes Mother tried unsuccessfully to force
me to finish my dinner numerous times. And I spent many
dinners sitting for hours bored out of my mind, because I
couldn’t stuff another bite into my mouth.” She exhaled,
her sigh content. “When I’m done, I’m done. It pretty much
applies to every aspect of my life. Take note, Cassio King.
So yes, no more food for me tonight.”
Her little, or big, hint didn’t escape me. It was another
thing we had in common. Early rising to workout and
giving people only one chance in life. I just hope I haven’t
blown my chance with her.
The buzzing of the phone sounded and all three of us
glanced at our phones. Áine’s eyebrows scrunched into a
frown. She silenced her phone, but barely a second went by
and her phone started buzzing again.
“Don’t worry about us. If it’s urgent, answer it,” I
offered.
With a nod, she quickly stood up and strode away from
us and out into the hallway.
“She’s stubborn,” Luca muttered when she disappeared
from our sight. “And probably used to getting her way.”
Yes, probably.
“And so are you,” he continued with sarcasm. “This
should end well.”
I took my glass of whiskey and downed it. Luca and his
mouth would be the death of me.
“I mean look at Nico with our sister,” he continued. Áine
came back at that time and her head snapped to Luca.
Inwardly, I groaned. I wished sometimes Luca would just
keep his mouth shut.
“You have a sister?” she questioned, her delicate
eyebrow furrowed and gaze darting between Luca and I. “I
never saw any information on her.”
I wasn’t surprised to hear she looked us up. Thank fuck
she didn’t have someone with Nico’s skills on her team.
Otherwise, she’d be lethal.
 “We just recently found out,” I told her. “Her mother
kept her protected. I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention it
yet. I don’t want anyone to get any ideas. She is married
and her husband won’t take kindly to anyone threatening
her and their children. And neither will we. I care a great
deal about my family.”
Surprisingly, Áine nodded without hesitation. “I won’t
say anything,” she promised while watching me pensively,
as if she was cataloging every single thing she learned
about me.
“Thank you,” I told her. I glanced at my watch and noted
the time. “I have to get going. I’ll swing by your work
tomorrow and we will have lunch.”
She raised her eyebrow. “Is that an order?”
My lip quirked up. “No.”
“Good. I’ll think about it.” Her eyes roamed the room
and she spotted Margaret. “Well, have a good night you
two.”
She stood up and walked away from us without a
backward glance. It would seem all that was needed was
my name and I got dismissed by Áine. How appropriate!
“Well, you two look like perfect love birds,” Luca
muttered under his breath. “I bet she can’t live without you
already.”
I stood up and pulled the sleeves of my suit jacket.
“Luca?”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Twenty-Seven

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

T he tension eased as the evening went on. My mind

slowly started to reconcile Hunter and Cassio. The
man I had been talking to over the last six weeks would
surface every so often. In his attentiveness to my hunger. In
his request to keep information about his sister private.
Holy shit. Benito King had a daughter. I was starting to
see layers and layers of Cassio and Luca King. And I hated
to admit it, but it made me question whether those brothers
were anything like their father and brother Marco. I had to
tread carefully.
As I made my way through the large ballroom, a few of
the ladies stopped me and asked to see my engagement
ring. I’d smile, my cheeks were hurting by now from all the
smiling, and offer my hand with the ring.
I knew Cassio was still around; I could feel his eyes on
me as I moved around the room, burning a hole into my
back. It almost felt like he was guarding me. He seemed to
be fiercely protective of what was his, and I had no doubt
he now considered me his. The most disturbing part was
that my body didn’t mind it, though my mind was still
debating. The earlier incident with Chad flashed in my
mind when I practically tasted Cassio’s fury in the air.
 I spotted Margaret by the door, leading to the terrace
and snuck up on her. “Are you avoiding me?” I whispered.
She whirled around. Our eyes met and the expression on
her face confirmed my suspicion. I haven’t had a chance to
talk to her the entire evening because she had been
actively avoiding me.
“I’m sorry,” she spoke in a low voice so nobody could
hear us.
“Don’t be,” I whispered. “I’m going to go home. Want a
sleepover?”
“You still want to have sleepovers with me, even after
what I’ve done?” Her eyes so similar to mine glimmered
with regret.
“Of course,” I told her, taking her hand. “You are my
best friend. No member of the King family will ever get
between us.”
A tear trickled down her face, and I pulled her into my
arms. “Stupid hormones,” she murmured, sniffling.
“I think it’s awesome I get to be an aunt,” I admitted
softly.
“And we are blood related!” She pulled back, disbelief in
her eyes. “I still can’t believe it; though I shouldn’t be
surprised.”
I shrugged. This evening had gone unexpectedly, and I
needed time to process it all. And learning that Jack
Callahan was my father… Well, I’d need a while to process
that revelation.
Margaret’s eyes traveled behind me, and I didn’t need to
turn around to know who stood there. The back of my neck
prickled and a burning sensation traveled down my spine.
My body’s reaction to Cassio was the most peculiar thing I
had ever experienced. Usually I felt repulsed with the need
to put distance around men that weren’t family. But with
him, there was none of it. From the moment I first ran into
him in Temptation nightclub and then in Vegas, I felt
comfortable around him. In fact, deep down, I trusted him,
which directly conflicted with my brain.
I wasn’t quite sure if that was normal. Or good!
Slowly I turned around and my stomach tightened. He
was too close. There was a foot of space between us, but I
could almost feel his heat and the way I remembered his
hard body pressing against mine. My heartbeat fluttered,
and I almost put my hand over my heart at such a strong
reaction.
“Cassio.” I forced a smile onto my lips. “I thought you
were leaving to take care of your business.”
He gave me a knowing look and one side of his mouth
tugged up into a half-smile. “I am leaving but not without a
proper goodbye.”
He took my hand into his and my heart fluttered. I
stared in fascination as I watched in slow motion his
tattooed hand bring mine to his lips. I shouldn’t allow him
to touch me, knowing he was Benito King’s son. Yet, I did
nothing to stop him. In fact, I craved his touch.
I stared at his mouth and warmth filled my stomach. His
cool, dark expression locked on me, waiting for me to say
something, but all I could do was stare in anticipation. Why
wasn’t my body kicking into freak-out mode with him? Now
that I knew he was part of the King family, I should be
repulsed. Yet, I wasn’t.
His full lips were barely an inch from my knuckles and
the tiniest flicker passed through his gaze. Was it a
challenge? Or desire? His lips touched my skin and heat
spread through my veins like an inferno.
It was even better than I remembered, and it was barely
a touch. Soft, warm, and mind numbing. Every inch of my
skin was on fire and the urge to pull my hand back with
disgust never came. Even knowing his name. I craved to
feel his lips again, to refresh my memory of their touch. I
wanted him.
He feels safe, I realized.
 He released my hand, and it almost felt like losing an
anchor. His gaze sent a burning sensation through my
bloodstream, and I wondered if he could see the strong
impact he had on me.
I had so many questions, yet if he demanded to take me
into a room right now, I feared I’d go. More than willingly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Áine,” Cassio said, telling me
without words he wouldn’t easily be dissuaded from the
lunch date he set. It wasn’t hard to guess that Cassio King
got whatever he set his mind on and his mind was set to
having lunch with me.
“Good night,” I muttered.
Only fight the battles worth winning, Jack’s voice echoed
in my brain. I guess it was good that my stepfather… no,
my father was a mobster and I had learned quite a number
of things from him since my mother married him. He might
not have involved me in any of his business but I learned a
thing or two.
Each move I made and the words I uttered would be
used wisely. With the purpose of sending the King empire
crumbling to ashes. If Cassio and Luca were part of that
empire, they would crumble.
If they weren’t… Well, then I’d be married to Cassio
King until death do us part. And somehow the thought
didn’t repulse me at all.
I watched his back as he walked away from me and I
had to admit, it was as nice as his front. Sexy back shouted
in my brain, along with the notes of the song of the same
name, and I mentally facepalmed my forehead. At this rate,
I would need Dr. Taylor for more than my nightmares.
Turning my attention back to my cousin, I found her
looking at me. “What?” I asked a bit annoyed.
Her lips curved into a smile. “Nothing. I’m game for a
sleepover.”
T hirty minutes later , M argaret and I walked into the
lobby of my glass building in the heart of New York City.
The entire building was made of windows. Two years ago,
when I first walked by this building, I was impressed.
The second I walked into the lobby, I was awed, but once
I entered the apartment, I decided I wanted to stay here
forever. I loved my apartment and though I had no idea who
owned the building, there were only a few tenants living
here. We all knew each other, and though everyone was
nice, we all kept to ourselves.
I had argued with Mom and Jack since my last year of
college about moving out and living alone. No city, no
neighborhood, no building was ever too safe.
Well, this one was. It was as if someone designed it just
for me. The building security was tight, every glass window
was bulletproof and visitors were screened. And when I say
screened, I meant background check, go through a metal
detector and all that crazy stuff. But it worked. Jack and
Mom finally, although reluctantly, agreed to let me move
out of their mansion.
“Hello Mr. Maurizio,” I greeted the doorman once in the
lobby. As long as I lived here, there wasn’t a day that he
didn’t work. He was older, about fifty, and very pleasant.
His warm brown eyes and always ready smile made him
appear very friendly although I was certain that he could
be deadly too. He always wore a suit and a gun holster. In
the beginning, I found it odd and slightly off putting, but I
got used to it. Considering all the crime that happens in the
city, it made sense that he would be armed.
“Miss Evans.” He tilted his head. “How are you this
evening?”
I loved hearing his Italian accent. It was smooth and
pleasant to the ear. I recalled the first time Jack and Mom
came to visit. Jack wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me
moving to start with, but once he heard Mr. Maurizio’s
accent, he was downright against it. It took my mother to
calm him down.
“Good, thank you.”
The owner of the building was private, and we never
saw him, but he occupied the entire top floor of this
building. My apartment was right below it. Ignoring the
elevator, I strode to the staircase.
“Stairs again, I see,” Margaret muttered behind me.
“Always,” Mr. Maurizio and I answered at the same time,
then shared a glance.
Climbing the stairs, two at the time, we got to my floor.
“You know,” Margaret breathed heavily behind me. “I
won’t be able to climb the stairs when I’m round as a
pumpkin.”
I chuckled. She was right of course. I’d have to think of
something. Or she’d take the elevator with the baby while I
took the stairs. Whatever works. Once on my floor, I
punched in the code and entered my little slice of heaven.
It was always the same. The beauty of it was spellbinding.
It felt like home, cozy and mine. Just mine. It was my
sanctuary.
I crossed the hardwood floors towards the kitchen. On
the opposite side of the living room stretched a glass wall
with the views of the city. The views stunned me every
single time, and I couldn’t help flick a glance its way. The
rush of the city was evident, and I knew it was loud but
none of the city buzz could be heard here.
I strode to the kitchen with its granite countertops and
professional grade appliances. Truthfully, with my work
schedule and my little side business to eliminate
trafficking, I barely had time for a domestic life. Though I
enjoyed cooking very much.
The hardwood floor went through the entire apartment,
including the three guest bedrooms and bathrooms. The
living room had a brick fireplace, giving it a cozy feeling.
My furniture was mostly white with the exception of my
bedroom that had mahogany wood that matched the
hardwood but all the linen was white.
“Want some juice?” I asked Margaret as I poured myself
a glass of white wine.
She groaned. “This is the first juice offering instead of
wine.”
“But it’s for a good reason,” I offered with a smile. She
took the glass of her juice as I sat next to her onto the
couch. “What a night, huh?”
I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the family secret. It
was one that should have never been kept from me. And
why would my father… hmmm, Thomas, been alright with
raising someone else’s child. It was unsettling, this latest
discovery, and I wasn’t quite sure how to process it.
I took a sip of wine and finally felt myself starting to
relax. This place was my zen, one of the only places I could
actually relax and feel safe. Though not even my apartment
kept nightmares at bay.
Margaret sipped on her juice, her look distant. The news
of her pregnancy was a surprise. She always claimed
children were not her thing. Yet, here we were.
“It’s all my fault,” Margaret muttered out of nowhere. “I
got knocked up and now you have to pay the price.”
I tucked my legs underneath me, pulling two throw
blankets from the armrest and offering one to her. It was
mid-April and the nights were still chilly. I looked forward
to the warmer weather, though the humidity in this city was
nothing to crave.
“I’m so sorry,” Margaret added in a small voice.
“Don’t apologize.” It wasn’t right for either one of us to
be forced to do this. Jack was crazy if he thought any of this
was the right thing to do. Besides, I had a history with
Hunter… ummm, Cassio. Damn it, not sure what I should
call him!
 “I was stupid and reckless. I got pregnant and now you-”
“Actually, it is their fault,” I retorted dryly. “Your
uncle’s-” I winced at the title because it would take some
time to get used to the fact that Callahan was my father.
“Callahan’s and Cassio King’s. For making plans they had
no right to make.”
Marrying Cassio should feel like a mistake. A grave
mistake. People should marry for love, not forming
alliances. And I’d be a fool not to admit that it bothered me
that Cassio had an arrangement to marry Margaret. Yet he
took me to bed. It bothered me a lot. Though somewhere
deep down, a part of me didn’t mind marrying him.
Did it make sense? Fuck no. Did it make sense I was a
virgin until recently? Again, fuck no. But there it was and
we’d deal with it. We could overcome anything and
everything, except one thing. Marco King.
My phone beeped, startling me, and I quickly reached
for it. My heart tripped seeing it was from Hunter and then
leapt into my throat. All the years of terror and revulsion
wiped just from a single text. It was scary how easily that
guy impacted me.
I slid the message open and read it.
*I want to talk to you.*
My heart danced in my chest. Wonderful, this would be
cute if I was still a teenager. But a grown-ass woman! Yeah,
not so much.
I typed back. *About???*
Despite myself, the corner of my lip tugged up. He’d
know this was my moody response. After all, we’ve been
texting long enough and he picked up on my little traits.
The shorter the text, the worse my mood.
*Two years ago, Vegas, marriage, us. Take a pick.*
Okay, so he was right. We should talk. Go into this
arrangement clear headed. After all, the wedding was
barely three days away. I couldn’t understand the rush. The
engagement announcement and the wedding - both in the
same week.
Despite this crazy way that my body reacted to him, I
knew I needed my reason and common sense back. You just
didn’t marry the son of the man that killed your father. Yes,
Benito was dead, but the trafficking business didn’t end
with his death. Regardless of how handsome Cassio was or
how good he could make me feel. But… yes, there was
always a but. The phone conversation kept jumping to the
forefront of my mind. If his words were any indication, he
didn’t care for his father and carried a guilt for the hurt he
caused.
And we couldn’t discount that the sex with Hunter was
amazing. No, I didn’t have any other experience to compare
it to, but even that aside, the way he ensured my pleasure,
the way he read my body even before I knew what it was
saying. Hunter was perfect for me in that regard.
Hunter. Cassio. Cassio Hunter King.
Somehow the name suited him.
“Is everything okay?” Margaret’s voice startled me. I got
so lost in my thoughts that I forgot she was here. That was
how much that man rattled me.
“Yeah, everything is good,” I told her quickly and typed
up a message back.
*Tomorrow. You demanded lunch. Make the best of
it.*
I would go along with the charade of marriage, bring
down the King trafficking business, and have a shit ton of
sex. I’d have no issues in that department with Cassio King.
Great, it was set then.
Two for one. Look at me multitasking, I thought wryly. I
just needed cheerleaders behind me. Give me an A… the
rhyming chant played in my mind.
With my decision made, I returned attention to my
cousin.
 “You can’t help out with the agency anymore,” I told her.
“You have to take care of yourself and the baby.”
Her shoulders squared and she sat up abruptly, agitation
written all over her face. “I’m not an invalid.”
“I know. But we both know you can’t be fighting in your
condition. It’s not safe for you nor the baby.” I smiled to
lighten the blow. “I can’t wait to spoil my niece or nephew.”
She rubbed her hand over her flat belly, then her eyes
came to mine. Margaret knew it wasn’t possible. She just
didn’t like being told what to do. Her gaze came up to
mine.
“You are not going to ask me?” Our eyes locked. I knew
what she was asking. She expected me to ask who the
father of the baby was. I didn’t want her to feel obligated to
tell me. Certain things were personal and baby daddy was
certainly personal. Otherwise, she would have told me.
“No,” I answered.
“You don’t want to know?”
I raised my eyebrow. “Do you want to tell?”
A heavy sigh left her lips. “I want to tell you because I
feel guilty.”
I shrugged. “Don’t tell me who the father is. Probably
better you keep it a secret for now, so Jack doesn’t kill the
poor guy.” I knew the same thought crossed her mind. She
was not only protecting her baby but also the baby’s father.
Besides, maybe I was easing my own conscience too. I slept
with Margaret’s fiancé. Although unknowingly. It didn’t do
anything to ease the guilt.
“Áine, the truth is,” she started in a small voice, “I don’t
know who the father is.”
I scrunched my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
She pushed both her hands through her thick dark
mane. “I went to a masked party I heard about while we
were in Vegas. I hooked up with a guy there. He was
wearing a mask the entire time.” My mouth parted in
shock. It wasn’t what I expected. I thought she was
protecting the father. “I have no clue who the father is.”
“Oh.”
Well, fuck! Though I wouldn’t judge her. The baby would
be loved by everyone. Margaret’s brothers, myself, my
parents. We’d all spoil the baby.
She covered her face in shame and I immediately leaned
forward. “Hey,” I murmured, peeling them off.
“I’m so ashamed,” she grumbled.
“Don’t you dare,” I told her. “There is nothing to be
ashamed of. Did you hurt anyone? No, you didn’t.” I hugged
her. “You’ll be a wonderful mother. And we’ll spoil that
baby in the best way possible. Father or no father. You and
that baby will be happy. You have every right to be happy!”
“And you don’t?” she challenged me, sniffling. “You
should be marrying for love and happiness too.”
I thought back to Cassio King. Two years ago, I was
fascinated with the fact that a man’s touch didn’t send me
into a spiraling panic. The moment our eyes connected, he
appealed to me. But then when we connected in Vegas and
over the last six weeks, I actually felt happy. Hopeful.
Connected to him. While the rational part of me told me it
was barely a relationship, the irrational one, that usually
didn’t make an appearance, told me to be all in.
Just the memory of his lips against my skin sent my
heart into overdrive. The panic that I’d grown accustomed
to was nowhere to be found when I was around that man. I
craved his touch like the air I breathed. Just an innocent
brush of his warm lips against my knuckles and I lost sense
of place and time. Somehow it felt critical that I keep this
feeling. Keep Hunter close to me for that feeling of
normalcy.
The long, celibate slumber my body had been in for a
long time has finally ended. Thanks to Cassio Hunter King.
So I owed it to him to at least hear him out.
 “I was thinking,” I said, changing the subject, “... if I
marry Cassio, I could take down their empire from the
inside.” Her eyes widened and before she could say
anything else, I continued, “What better way to get
information and stop all the trafficking by them?”
“But you’ll be shackled to him,” she whispered in a low
voice. “You’ll have to sleep with him.”
My fingers twisted around my wrist, a dull pain
throbbing in it. A memory of my broken wrist with a
tattooed hand wrapped around it flashed in my mind, but it
disappeared as fast as it came. These scrambled images
increased over the last month and were killing me.
I never broke my wrist, I thought back. I never broke
any bones. None of the flashbacks of images that kept
appearing made sense.
“Áine?” Margaret called out and our eyes met. “Will you
be okay sleeping with him?”
More than okay, I thought wryly.
Jesus, I practically had to hold myself back from
shouting Yeehaw, sign me up. Guilt hit me almost
immediately. She was worrying about me. She knew I didn’t
do casual sex. What she didn’t know was that I didn’t do
sex at all. Until six week ago in Vegas. With our very own
Cassio Hunter King.
“Maggie, I have a confession to make as well,” I
muttered softly. I couldn’t keep lying to her while she
worried about me. Besides, she made her confession. It
made me a coward to keep lying to her.
Our eyes connected. “Remember Vegas?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do I ever! Did you not hear my
admission?”
I smiled.
“That evening you disappeared on me,” I started
hesitantly, unsure how she’d take the news. “I ran into
Hunter.” She waited, her eyes wide. She suspected what
was coming. “I- I… ummm…”
 “Just spit it out, Áine!”
“I slept with him,” I admitted guiltily. “I didn’t know he
was yours. I wouldn’t have-”
I cut myself off because for the first time in my life, I
wasn’t certain if those words were true. From the moment
we met, the attraction to that man kindled, like a blaze
bright and strong. He felt right; like he should be mine. His
last name aside, his family aside… I felt connected to him. I
felt like an indecisive teenager with her first love.
“Áine, he was never mine,” Maggie’s protest came out
firm and strong. “And the way he looked at you in the
elevator. I was shocked to hear he arranged to marry me. I
wouldn’t be surprised if you were his end game all along.”
I frowned. His end game. I just hoped it was in the good
sense, and we wouldn’t kill each other in the process.
“You liked sleeping with him?” she questioned
mischievously and instantly the tension was out the
window. “Is he good in bed? And does he have tattoos all
over?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the grin from
spreading and instead rolled my eyes, as if I was annoyed.
But she knew me too well. Playfully she pushed me gently
against my shoulder and we both burst into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, okay, all seriousness aside,” Maggie said,
straightening up. “What if he and his brother are working
with Marco? Or tries to hurt you?”
I shrugged. My instinct told me Cassio wasn’t the type
to hurt women. Or to force himself on one. My experience
from Vegas was proof of that, though there were many
unanswered questions. Besides, I could protect myself just
fine, thanks to combat training I had been receiving since I
took over The Rose Rescue. “If we bring all King trafficking
to a halt, it’d be worth it.”
And I was up for the challenge.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Twenty-Eight

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

T he headquarters of HC Architecture was a plain,

steel building, and it was exactly that which made it
stand out from other buildings in downtown New York. I
have owned it for the past two years. Thanks to Nico’s
magic, not too many people, outside my closest friends and
my brother, knew I owned it. I intended to keep it that way.
Some people would consider my obsession with Áine
going overboard, but I didn’t give a shit. I kept a close eye
on Áine ever since our paths crossed two years ago. I
bought the company she worked at, and when she searched
for an apartment in the city, I ensured she heard about the
availability in my building. It offered the most protection.
“Mr. DiMauro,” I was greeted by the receptionist. She
offered me a big smile, smiling seductively. It was the name
I used when transacting any meetings here. “I heard you’d
be here. I hope you will stay a while.” Her brown eyes were
bright with unspoken invitation as she swiped her tongue
over her lower lip.
My lips curved, though it wasn’t a smile.
“Miss Evan’s office,” I told her.
The glass wall with HC Architecture logo stretched over
the back wall with water cascading down both sides. It
flowed down in waves and ripped over the logo causing a
beautiful effect.
“I can take you-” she offered, but I immediately stopped
her.
“Which floor?” I ignored her attempts.
She came around the reception desk and got too close.
“I can walk you to her office.”
She smiled wide and leaned closer. I was half tempted to
bark an order at her to get back to her position, but she
wasn’t really worth me getting riled up. I was here to talk
to Áine. I wouldn’t be playing games with my soon-to-be
wife and have us tiptoe around each other.
As for this receptionist, I’d have someone get rid of her.
It was bad form to have our front desk flirt with guests.
“No, thank you,” I told her. “But I would like my
personal space back.”
Her brows creased in confusion. It couldn’t possibly be
the first time she was rejected. Thankfully, she took a step
back.
“Cassio?” A familiar soft voice came behind me.
I turned in its direction and Áine stood there, watching
me in surprise. I told her we’d have lunch; I guess she
didn’t expect me to follow up. She wore a white, sleeveless
blouse with light pink neckline, navy skirt that came to her
knees and nude heels. She looked sexy and professional. A
navy blazer and a large folder were both in her hands along
with a laptop.
“Hello, Áine.” I leaned over and pressed a kiss on her
cheek.
“What are you doing here?” she questioned, glancing
around. Who else was she expecting?
“We are having lunch,” I told her. “Or did my fiancée
forget already?”
I noticed her hand free of the engagement ring and
something about it irked me. I wanted to brand her so the
whole world knew she was mine. After all, I’d waited long
enough.
She put her folder that looked to contain drawings and
her laptop on the receptionist counter. The latter observed
our interaction with interest, probably eager for gossip.
“Of course not.” Áine pasted on a fake smile, and I took
the navy blazer from her, then helped her put it on. Plus it
allowed me to put my hands on her and get closer to her.
“That’s why I’m here,” she added.
I knew without a doubt it was not. Once her blazer was
on, she grabbed her stuff, then glanced my way.
“So where to, my dear fiancé?” she asked, her tone full
of sarcasm.
I slid my hand to her lower back and urged her forward.
Her back slightly stiffened for a faction of a second, but she
didn’t pull away. We walked out of the building and fresh,
cool air hit us.
Leaning over, I whispered in her ear, “Where is your
engagement ring?”
Her eyes darted down to her finger, and then back to
me.
“Crap,” she muttered. “I don’t sleep with jewelry and I
just… Well, I forgot the ring.”
My lips tugged up into a smile. I believed her. Put a
quarter million dollar ring on another woman, she’d claw
your eyes out if you attempted to take it.
“Maybe we should tattoo the wedding ring on your
finger when we get married.”
She rolled her eyes. “Tattoos are very permanent,” she
replied, then glanced at my free hand, studying it. Her step
halted and we stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Her
brows drawn tight, she kept staring at my tattoo. “I’d swear
it is the same exact tattoo,” she muttered under her breath.
I knew she was referring to her dream. Well, a memory that
plagued her in her dreams. “I saw it a long time ago,” she
whispered, her gaze locked on them. “I swear it is right
there and-”
But whatever she was going to say remain unsaid. She
shook her head, a quick, small movement like she
remembered something she didn’t understand. Was her
memory coming back?
“Anyhow, no tattoos for me,” she finally said, her deep
ocean pools meeting my eyes.
“Then a ring is a must,” I told her. “I don’t want any
misunderstandings by others that you are available.”
“Don’t trust me, huh?” she challenged me.
Instead of answering her, I turned it back to her. “Do you
trust me?”
She chose not to answer but held my gaze. I didn’t have
to worry about Áine cowering before me, or bending to my
will. She was strong to stand her ground.
“This is my car,” I finally told her, nudging her towards
my McLaren.
“Where are we having lunch?”
“My favorite place,” I told her, opening the door for her.
“Well, that tells me everything.” Rolling her eyes, she
slid into the seat.
It took us five minutes to get there. We spent the drive
in silence, and once there, I parked the car in the gated
parking area, then headed down the street. The sounds of
the cars honking in the distance filled the air.
“I hope you like Italian food.” I glanced over and her lips
curved into a soft smile.
“I do.”
We walked into a small corner restaurant, and I watched
Áine looking around in surprise. This place wasn’t a luxury
restaurant. The walls were decorated with the old, faded
paper with images of ancient Italy. There were only ten
tables and they were close together.
“Don’t like it?” I asked her.
 She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I just expected-”
She cut herself off.
“Something fancy?”
She chuckled softly. “Yes, I guess.”
“Do you want us to go somewhere fancier?” I asked her.
It didn’t matter to me, but this place was one of the rare
places in New York City I had memories tied to. Happy
memories.
“No,” she answered quickly. “This is perfectly fine.”
I smiled. “This place has the best brick oven pizza in the
city. A real Italian pizza.”
“Good, because I’m starving,” she admitted.
“Follow me then.”
I led her to the far wall with a table for two. Pulling out
the chair for her, she murmured her thanks. I sat myself
down and our eyes met. Each time her deep blue eyes met
mine, I got that familiar squeezing feeling in my chest. I
started to associate it only with her.
“You come here often?” she asked curiously.
“It’s been a while,” I told her. “When my brother and I
were little, and while my mother was still alive, she’d bring
us here all the time. It was her sanctuary away from my
father. Over the last ten years or so, occasionally, Luca and
I would swing by.”
Áine tilted her head pensively, listening attentively.
“Do you miss her?”
“Yes.” It felt good sitting with her here. Comforting.
“Certain things are harder to get over than others.”
She nodded in understanding. I knew she understood it,
though her memory was fractured. Deep down she knew
what I meant. “Dad has been gone a while and there are
still certain things I miss about him. His belly laugh; or his
snarky remarks.”
I nodded. Yes, she understood it well.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” she murmured, compassion
in her ocean blue eyes.
 “It was a long time ago.” This lunch wasn’t supposed to
be about gloomy memories but for the two of us to get to
know each other. And come clean about certain things.
“I’m sure it still hurts,” she spoke softly. The look in her
eyes was cautious, tentative. “Like you said, certain things
are hard to overcome.”
She spoke about her own experiences. With Nico’s help,
I got a look into Áine’s medical history. She underwent
hypnotherapy therapy after her kidnapping. According to
the reports, it helped her suppress the bad memories
associated with what happened. It only dampened her
memories, causing her to have regular sessions to keep
them from returning. It was the reason for her frequent
visits to Dr. Taylor.
I could just kill Callahan and her mother for subjecting
Áine to it. Her mother should have known suppressing her
memories was risky. It made her more vulnerable.
“Yes, they are.”
“Cassio, is that really you?” A voice stopped our
discussion and I stood up. Maria, my mother’s oldest
friend, approached us from the kitchen area. “It is so good
to see you.”
“Hello, Maria,” I greeted her and pulled the older
woman into a hug. She had a big smile on her face, as she
always did when she’d see my brother and me. She pulled
back and her eyes darted to Áine.
“Maria, this is my fiancée,” I introduced the two. “Áine
Callahan.”
Her hand came to her mouth, her eyes widening. “You
are getting married?” she exclaimed.
“I am.”
Maria looked like she got the news of the century. She
beamed, her eyes shining with excitement.
“So nice to meet you.” Áine stood up and extended her
hand to Maria and the latter pulled her into a tight hug.
 “And you! You are so beautiful,” Maria exclaimed. “You’ll
be good for our Cassio.”
Áine awkwardly patted Maria’s back, her eyes darting to
me like she was begging me to help her with the
awkwardness. It was almost comical. Maria just liked to
hug. “Umm, thank you,” she murmured.
Maria’s eyes warmed and she let poor Áine go, then
hugged me again with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Cassio. Your
mamma would be so happy and proud. And your nonno!”
A little pang hit my chest at the mention of my mother,
but I quickly shoved it somewhere deep. It would seem only
my mother and Áine were capable of hitting me right deep
into my chest.
“I hope you’ll come,” I told Maria, and the second the
words left my lips, her hands came to her chest.
“You want me to come?”
“Of course,” I said. “You and Angelo. I’ll have one of my
men pick you up if you agree to come.”
“Sì, sì.” She clapped her hands. “Is that ok, Áine? We’ve
known Cassio since he was born.”
“Of course,” Áine answered and she actually sounded
sincere. Maybe she came to terms with this marriage after
getting some sleep.
After a few more words were exchanged, Maria
disappeared into the kitchen and I sat back down.
“She’s very nice,” Áine commented once she was gone.
I leaned back in my chair, extending my legs. “She was
my mother’s best friend.” My eyes darted to the kitchen
where Maria disappeared to. “My grandfather in Sicily
wanted my mother to get her education in the States. So he
sent her to New York. She was homesick and luckily Maria
was from Sicily too so the two connected. The rest is
history.”
“Somehow I have a feeling there is a lot more to that
story.” Áine’s clear eyes watched me. She was right, there
was more to that story. My mother met my father, fell in
love, and had two children out of wedlock. Much to
Nonno’s dismay.
Our father was cruel to our mother and eventually she
broke. Instead of reaching out to my grandfather, seeking
help, she sought her escape in suicide, leaving Luca and I
in Benito’s clutches.
Our father used savagery to prepare me to rule his
kingdom. To torture and mold us into his killers until he no
longer needed us or wanted us. At least that was the
fucking excuse he used. The truth was, he was scared of
our blood ties to the DiMauro family in Sicily. He fucked
with our mind, trying to make us weaker. He didn’t want us
to become bigger and better than him, and he was willing
to sacrifice his own sons if it meant more power.
He never counted on a daughter though. He never saw
her coming, misjudged her hate. He misjudged all of our
hate. Her mother committed suicide, but he handed her the
rope. My mother committed suicide, but it was Benito that
pushed her into it.
The bottom line was that motherfucker left a stain on all
of our souls. Bianca’s, Luca’s, mine. Even Marco’s, though
that fucker was beyond saving. He had gone off the deep
end a long time ago.
Not a moment too soon, a large pizza was delivered to
our table. The topic of my father wasn’t a welcomed one.
“Hope this is enough.” I changed the subject to food at
hand.
Áine’s eyes bulged. “Jesus, all this?”
“You said you are hungry.”
“Yes, but for two slices tops. I hope you brought your
appetite,” she joked, glancing my way.
“I have. Luca eats one of these all by himself.”
She chuckled. “Why am I not surprised?”
I had to admit, this lunch date was going even better
than I hoped for. Áine was easy to talk to, and I learned
from Nonno that it was a key to making a marriage work. It
was only thanks to him that Luca and I didn’t turn into total
detached sociopaths, like Marco.
My phone buzzed and I checked the message. It was
from Nico. He and Bianca were coming tomorrow. I wanted
to introduce them all to Áine before the wedding. After all,
they were family.
“Everything okay?” she asked and I set my phone aside.
“Yes, my sister and her family are coming to New York
tomorrow,” I told her. For a fraction of a second, I debated
whether I should tell her who my sister was but decided
against it. I didn’t want Áine to think Bianca was any
different from when she knew her before. “I want you to
meet them over dinner. Your parents too, of course. Her
girls will like you.”
“The girls?”
“Her twin daughters. They are quite something.”
“Hmmm.”
“Hannah will try to get your jewelry out of you,” I
warned her. “Better keep your engagement ring glued to
your finger. And Arianna will cover for her while her sister
is robbing you.”
Áine’s warm laughter rang through the little restaurant
and the sound of it warmed my chest.
“Little thieves, huh?”
I smiled at her accurate description. “They like shiny
stuff and unfortunately have very expensive taste. Luca is
not helping the matter since he keeps indulging them.”
“Well, I look forward to meeting them too.”
Our lunch turned out very pleasant. Áine had an easy,
calm personality and underneath it all, she was warm with
a great sense of humor. She kept her guard up, but I didn’t
blame her. It was probably her instinct warning her,
assigning my father’s attributes on me.
Except, I was nothing like my father. She couldn’t
remember that Luca and I came to save her from that
hellhole my father and brother kept her caged in. But
despite her brain warning her, she trusted me. And there
was no denying the attraction that sizzled between us.
I watched her with other men or people in general. She
didn’t like physical closeness and something recoiled her
from men’s touches. But not from mine. No matter how
much she’d deny it, she trusted me.
And I’d never break that trust.
Which led me to the topic we had to discuss. “I want to
be honest with you,” I started, her eyes studying me
curiously. “I never had any intention of marrying your
cousin.”
Her soft gasp told me she believed I schemed her into
my bed while knowing all along I’d marry her cousin. Not
the best kind of confidence.
“Then why the pretense?” she inquired. She was careful
to trust my word.
“First, Callahan would have never agreed to marriage
with you,” I told her honestly. “Not unless his hand was
forced. Trust me on that.”
She cocked her eyebrow. “Well, maybe neither one of
you two should be arranging marriages without discussing
it with the intended target first.”
Good, she wasn’t screaming. Not that I expected her to.
Áine was a reasonable woman and had a good head on her
shoulders.
“Point taken,” I admitted, though it wasn’t that simple in
the underworld. “With Benito alive and all the havoc he
was causing, I couldn’t afford to go against Jack and start a
war with him while fighting Benito and Marco.”
“Two years ago?”
I took her hand into mine and despite our obvious
disparities, we fit. Her eyes lowered and she watched the
ink on my hand. She seemed fascinated with the rose
tattoo, the crease between her brows deepening each time
she glanced at it. The rose was my mother’s favorite flower.
It reminded her of home and Nonno, but she was too
ashamed to go back to him, to ask for protection, and it
cost her everything.
“Yes, two years ago,” I said softly. “I wanted to keep you
two years ago. The Wonder Woman that slammed into my
life, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Her mouth parted and light blush colored her cheeks.
“Well, that’s…”
She searched for a word and failed to come up with one.
She was right; it was slightly overboard. I wanted Áine as
my wife and no replacement would do. It was her or nobody
else.
Did I scheme to get her? Yes. Was I sorry? Fuck, no.
“Did you plan Vegas?” Her question didn’t surprise me.
“No,” I told her. “I planned on running into you, to see if
you still remembered me. That was it.”
Well, there was one other thing, but it wasn’t time to
admit to that one. She probably wouldn’t take kindly to me
setting her cousin up to get seduced by another man.
“That’s a bit intense, Hunter,” she murmured. I noted
she reverted back to the name I gave her in Vegas.
Somehow it felt right on her lips, to use the name that was
rarely used by anyone else. “Your family deals with human
trafficking.”
“Luca and I are not my father,” I told her firmly,
reminding her of her own words. “Neither is our sister. We
fight human trafficking, alongside friends and our own
family, which doesn’t include Marco. Nor did it include
Benito when he was still alive.”
She tilted her head as if deciding to believe me or not. It
was time I admitted I knew about her extra-curricular
activities. Very soon.
“And I should just believe your word?”
“Yes, because I will never lie to you,” I told her. “I might
not tell you everything, but I won’t lie to you.”
Silence washed over both of us, filling the space
between us along with my vow. I meant it when I said I
wouldn’t lie to her. She’d be my equal in this marriage. I
wouldn’t pull her into the illegal side of my business, but
she’d be my partner in everything else.
“Did you have a tail on me? Is that how you knew I was
in Turkey?” The statement she blurted came out of
nowhere.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your safety is my top priority.”
“You said Benito retaliated in more than one way. What
does that mean exactly?” I wondered how much was told to
her, considering her memories.
“Why do you see Dr. Taylor?” It would seem we’d have
this conversation sooner versus later.
Surprise flashed in her eyes, combined with a suspicion.
“How do you know about that?”
“I looked you up,” I told her. “I needed to know why you
couldn’t remember me.”
When Luca and I went back to that hellhole after saving
Áine, we’d taken special care to learn every man that dared
lay a finger on her during her captivity. Luca and I had a
long list of sins to pay for. A few more didn’t make a
difference. And those men didn’t deserve anything better -
for what they did to Áine and the rest of the women there.
Áine kept those memories closed in a box and refused to
set them free, but I sensed her mind revolting. She’d have
to face those memories sooner or later and we’d deal with
it together. She was strong. Nobody and nothing would
hold her down.
Least of all my brother Marco. He was the last man still
breathing who dared to torture Áine. But his time was
coming too.

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

“I looked you up,” he told me. “I needed to know why

you couldn’t remember me.”
There it was! Admission that I had met him before.
My eyes immediately darted to his hand that still
covered mine. The images of the hand reaching through the
fog flashed through my mind. With the same tattoo.
The throbbing in my temple increased, but I ignored it. I
had to remember it. It was important; I knew it was. The
harder I tried the worse the headache became. My eyes
misted from intense pain, but I was unwilling to let go until
firm fingers took my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“Don’t force it,” he instructed softly.
I blinked, drowning in his dark gaze and through the fog
a clear memory surfaced.
“We are here to help you.” The voice was Hunter’s. “I’m
Cassio. This is my brother Luca.” There were dirty walls
everywhere, screams in the distance. All I felt was fear in
the pit of my stomach. And hope, staring into this man’s
dark eyes full of compassion. “Callahan sent us.”
I blinked again and swallowed hard, while my heart
thundered under my rib cage.
“Holy shit,” I muttered. “You and Luca. I met you both.
Jack sent you to get me.” I shook my head, memories
incoherent. “Where was I?”
“Turkey.” I opened my mouth to ask the next question,
when he stopped me. “You have to remember on your own.
I’ll help you along.”
This was unreal. I thought him my enemy less than
twenty-four hours ago, and now he was unraveling the
images that lurked in my mind. Something settled deep
inside my chest and it would remain. I knew it as well as
my own heartbeat.
“Thank you,” I told him softly.
He’d never know how much that piece of memory meant
to me. I had questions, now more than ever, but I also felt
like a tiny piece of me was put back where it belonged all
along.
“No more Dr. Taylor,” he said, his voice unnegotiable.
“But she helps with my headaches,” I retorted. Those
migraines could get very bad, and I was already overdue
for a visit.
“You need to remember,” he stated firmly. “Once you
remember it all, it will all make sense.”
I had a feeling there was a lot to remember. And
truthfully, part of me was scared.

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 Chapter Thirty

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

A flicker of fear passed over her expression and the pale

blue vein in her neck beat quickly. But then she
steeled herself and nodded. She’d deal with it. My little
butterfly was strong.
It was her strength that hit me in the chest when we
found her eleven years ago. A little bruised girl with
haunted ghosts lurking in her eyes still had her strength in
her soul. She might have not seen it but I did. And just like
a butterfly, she emerged from the young girl into the most
beautiful woman I had ever seen. A woman that had my
heart and my soul.
Our encounter two years ago sealed the deal. I craved to
learn every single inch of her, every freckle on her creamy
skin. I longed to run my finger down every curve of her
body and mold her into me. The way she fit against me, the
sweet scent of her. It had all been tattooed into my flesh
and my brain.
This woman was mine. Anyone who threatened her,
threatened me. Anyone who touched her, touched me. And I
didn’t take kindly to people touching what was mine.
“Okay, no more Dr. Taylor,” she answered. “Though Mom
and Jack won’t be happy.”
“I’ll deal with them.”
 Her lips curved into a smile. “I bet you’d like that.”
I grinned. I actually liked her mother and Jack. They did
what they thought best for Áine, but she’d be my wife in a
few days. She was my responsibility now. And this woman
was strong. It was time she remembered what happened,
so she couldn’t be blindsided.
The hour with Áine passed way too quickly.
She glanced at her watch and squealed in a small voice,
jumping up.
“Crap,” she exclaimed. “Look at the time. I have to drop
off my drawings across the city. Otherwise, I’m going to
lose my job.”
There was no chance in hell she’d ever lose her job.
She’d run that company eventually. Unless she wanted to
raise our children. Damn it, something about the idea of
having children with this woman had me rattled in the best
possible way.
I stood up, helping her put on the jacket. “Just give me
the address and I’ll take you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is,” I insisted. “I’ll take you.”
Her shoulders tensed and she glared at me. “I said that
is not necessary, Cassio. I’m doing this one alone.”
Annoyance burned through me. There weren’t too many
people that stood up to me, but somehow it didn’t surprise
me that Áine would be one of them. Besides, now that she
was within my reach, I didn’t want anything happening that
would jeopardize our wedding.
My men were still out there looking for Chad Steward,
the fucking weasel disappeared. Just like the rat that he
was, he went into hiding.
“Which side of town?”
Our gazes locked and we stared at each other in battle
of our wills. Her lips pressed into a thin line and I knew she
gave in.
“Brooklyn,” she gritted out. “I’m taking a cab. Alone.”
 Stubborn woman.
“I’ll make sure you get into a cab safely.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t object. If she knew I had
men tailing her, she’d be even more pissed off. There was
no chance in hell that I’d risk her safety.
We walked out of the restaurant together, strode to my
car to get her bag of drawings and then I flagged a cab.
The moment it stopped, she took a step to get into it, but
I wrapped my hand around her upper arm.
“Wait,” I warned her.
She gave me a look like I was crazy but she did as I
ordered. Good, we are kicking this off to a great start, I
thought wryly.
I opened the door to the cab, but before I’d let Áine get
inside, I read the cab driver's credentials and took a photo
of it.
“What are you doing?” he protested.
“The lady needs a ride to Brooklyn,” I told him.
“Anything happens to her and I’ll find you. There is no
corner on this Earth you can hide from me. Understood?”
He paled a few shades but nodded. “Good.”
She must have heard what I told the driver because she
glared at me and shook her head. I was quite sure she
murmured psycho under her breath.
I took her wrist and pulled her closer to me. Instantly
her body melted against mine and satisfaction washed over
me. Our mouths locked, the taste of her warm and inviting.
I’d never get enough of her. Our tongues moved in rhythm
and a low moan vibrated from her. I knew this was neither
the time nor place and pulling away was the hardest thing I
had to do in a while.
Her lashes fluttered open to reveal her lustful eyes. She
leaned in as if pulled by a magnetic force. Good, maybe she
felt this thing between us as intensely as I did.
Pressing another kiss onto her soft cheek, I stepped
aside and demonstrated with my hand for Áine to get in.
 Frustrated, her cheeks burned. “I want more.”
I fucking loved her unreserved way when it came to sex.
I pressed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I’ll see you.”
Instead of answering me, she slammed the cab door in
my face.

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Chapter Thirty-One

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

I t has been a whole day since I had my lunch with

Cassio. Surprisingly, it was pleasant and arousing.
That kiss before he sent me off just about melted me from
the inside. Then as I sat in the cab, I remembered he went
all mobster on the poor cab driver. The guy was scared to
even look at me after Cassio’s threat. Freaking psychopath!
But an incredibly gorgeous one.
I seemed to like everything about him. His soulful eyes,
his demeanor, his honesty, his protectiveness, his kisses.
Geez, it would seem I totally swooned. And I looked
forward to seeing him again. To smell his scent. Feel his
heat.
My mind refused to settle last night. I played the
conversation with Cassio over and over in my mind. The
shock of his revelation. The nightmares. The terrifying
images. They were all memories. The meaning of the
flashbacks terrified me, but I couldn’t feign ignorance.
Cassio was right; I had to remember it on my own.
“Hello, Connor,” I greeted Jack’s man as I entered the
house. It has been a while since I came to dinner twice in
the same week.
Jack and Cassio thought it was a great idea to have an
early family dinner tonight, so we could all get to know
each other. Of course, Luca would be there. Cassio’s sister
and her family were coming too. I couldn’t help but think it
would be an interesting, uncomfortable dinner.
I kind of wished I’d asked Cassio if the two of us could
have dinner alone. I had so many questions. Now I was
positive the hand in my dreams, reaching out to me, was
his.
“Miss,” Connor greeted me back. “You look nice.”
I smiled at his compliment. I wore a light blue dress with
white polka dots and quarter sleeves. Cassio said it would
be a casual dinner so I combined the dress with white flats.
I opted to leave my hair down.
“Thank you but-” I have tried to keep him from calling
me Miss for years.
“I know, I know. No titles.” He grinned, amusement in
his eyes. “Everyone is in the dining room.”
Shaking my head, I rushed through the hallway. I
arrived late, since it was already four and I should have
been here by three-thirty, and as I turned a corner, I ran
right into Margaret.
“Thank God! You are finally here,” she whispered,
wrapping her arms around me.
“Did something happen?” I questioned her, my eyes
darting over her. It seemed quiet, nobody arguing.
“No, but it is so damn uncomfortable,” she muttered.
“The tension. Uncle Jack keeps glaring at me. Your mom is
trying to be a perfect hostess, eyeing Morrelli like he will
kill us any minute.”
I scoffed. “Nobody is killing anyone.”
She glanced around before she continued in a hushed
voice. “Nico Morrelli is ruthless. A few years ago, he
hunted men that were rumored to have been connected to
an attack on his sister.” I listened intently. I hadn’t heard
anything about that. Not that I would have since I didn’t
keep up with underworld activities. Jack did a good job
keeping me out of all of it. “He tortured them and then cut
them up and spread their parts to ensure their families
couldn’t bury them.”
I tilted my head. “Well, if they hurt his sister, they kind
of deserved it.”
Margaret’s mouth parted in shock. “You condone it?”
I shrugged. “If they had hurt his sister, I certainly agree
with his methods.” I glanced around. “I mean, isn’t that
what we are doing too?”
“I guess so.” She pushed her hand through her hair.
“Though it seems brutal. We just kill them.”
I shrugged. Maybe part of me was as psychotic as Nico
Morrelli, because the rare times I had to torture men to get
information, I felt an odd satisfaction to give them taste of
their own medicine.
“I feel like the culprit in your situation,” Margaret
interrupted my thoughts. “I know your mother is blaming
me. And I can’t even get drunk to ease the tension.”
“Don’t worry about my mother or Jack,” I told her.
“They’ll get over it, and I’m a big girl. Besides, this allows
me to get closer to the King trafficking business and get
laid, so maybe I should thank you.”
She rolled her eyes. “You get killed and I’ll hunt you
down. But… you should enjoy the spoils of war and take
advantage of Cassio King. In and out of the bedroom…
everywhere.” I cocked my eyebrow but couldn’t keep my
lips from curving into a smile. Especially after that kiss
yesterday.
I shook my head but felt my cheeks heat up. Yes, I
couldn’t wait to feel him inside me and relive that night
from Vegas. But there was a worry that I’d get hooked on it.
Crave it like the air I breathed. My imagination wasn’t
short of scenarios after getting a taste of it with Cassio and
how good a man’s touch could feel. Not just any man’s
touch… his specifically. He was all I could think about
lately.
 “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” She winked. “But take
my suggestion and get that fine piece of ass. Like tonight!”
“Now there is a grand idea,” I murmured.
We both chuckled softly. It was what I loved about her
the most. She wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted
and she was not ashamed of enjoying carnal pleasures.
“Do you have the next location for The Rose Rescue?”
Margaret asked in a low voice, changing the subject.
Now that she was pregnant, I didn’t want her to get
wrapped up in any of our activities. Her baby was a priority.
So, I had given the team instructions to remove Margaret
from all correspondence. I knew she didn’t like it, but it
was for her own safety.
It was the reason I was late. Reading a report on
another shipment of women that Marco King was
transporting through Turkey. John was chasing leads right
at this moment. Then as if that wasn’t enough, I read the
email Cassio sent to Jack about Chad Stewart. The
motherfucker worked with Marco King. I’d wring his neck
next time I saw him myself, though I suspected Cassio
might get him before me.
Maybe if Cassio’s half-brother showed up to this
intimate, family dinner I could kill him today, I thought
wryly to myself. Dinner and murder show, just strike the
mystery.
Though I knew Jack would never allow Marco King to
step foot on the compound. He’d kill him first. And it
seemed Cassio and Luca shared that hatred with us.
“So I’m out?” Margaret asked in a whiny voice.
I gave her a pointed look. She knew that I couldn’t have
her involved with that stuff, putting her at risk nor our
team.
“It is too dangerous,” I told her.
“Jesus, I’m barely pregnant,” she complained.
“There is no such thing as barely pregnant,” I comforted
her. “You have to think about you and the baby’s safety.”
 She groaned out loud. “I know; I know.”
We walked into the dining room where everyone was
already waiting for me and our conversation immediately
ceased.
“Sorry, I’m late,” I apologized with a smile as I turned to
everyone. I went to my mother and hugged her lightly,
pressing a kiss on her offered cheek. Then I hugged Jack.
The tension was still high among the three of us since the
parentage revelation. I’d been avoiding their calls.
Avoidance never did anyone any good, but I needed time to
come to terms with all of it.
“No matter,” Jack said. “You are here now and that is all
that matters.”
With a quick nod, my eyes traveled over the crowd.
Cassio stood with his family and a woman. It had to be the
sister he mentioned. As she turned around, I frowned and
recognition immediately set in.
“Bianca?” I called out, confusion clear in my voice.
“Hey there,” she left her brothers and the man I
assumed was her husband and strode over to me.
“Surprise!”
Holy shit, this was an unexpected surprise.
“I didn’t realize-” I started, glancing around. “You two
are related,” I finished my sentence.
We hugged each other. It seemed it was centuries ago
that we spent those few short months partying together in
Maryland.
“You look great,” I told her.
Her hand fluttered to her stomach and I knew instantly
she was pregnant.
“Thanks. You look great too.” She glanced over her
shoulders, smiling then grabbed my hand and pulled me
towards her group. “Meet my husband. Nico Morrelli.”
Ah, the Morrelli. I smiled and extended my hand. “Nice
to meet you.”
 “You too,” he replied, his voice deep. “Bianca tells me
you interned at Cassidy Enterprise. Sorry I missed you.” I
tilted my head wondering at his odd comment. What did
Cassidy Enterprise have to do with him? Then seeing my
confusion, he added, “My family owns it.”
“Oh.” Indeed a small world. I nodded. “It was a long
time ago,” I told him, observing him. Bianca got herself a
hottie, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t tattooed up like
my future husband. But somehow I preferred Cassio.
“Besides, we did our best to ditch work and party, more
often than not.”
Bianca chuckled. “Don’t tell them everything we did,”
she winked. God, she looked happy. Over the top happy.
“You met Cassio, of course. And Luca.” She turned her
head to me. “Holy shit, we are going to be sisters-in-law.
Who in the hell thought, huh?”
“Crazy,” I muttered. Not that I minded being her sister-
in-law. How was it that I didn’t know she was part of the
underworld?
“And these are our girls, Hannah and Arianna,” Bianca
continued oblivious to my internal evaluations. Two
identical blonde girls turned to face us and one of them
rolled her eyes. She actually rolled her eyes! “Hannah, be
nice!” Bianca scolded her.
“You lied, Mommy,” Hannah complained. “You said we
will go see Matteo.”
The twin sister added. “You know he wants to marry her.
If he doesn’t see her for a long time, he might forget her.”
Surprised by their sassiness, I couldn’t help but grin.
“God help me,” Bianca groaned under her breath and
everyone laughed, including my mother and Jack.
“You are going to have your hands full with your girls,”
my mother added softly.
“Ugh, I know,” Bianca said, then turned her eyes to the
girls. “I didn’t lie, but if the two of you don’t behave, we
won’t visit Matteo when we leave here.”
 They eyed her suspiciously. “Who’s Matteo?” I asked
curiously.
“I’m going to marry him,” announced Hannah.
Oh, determined little girl. Already had her sights on her
future husband. I kind of envied her confidence.
“Mom and I haven’t agreed,” Nico told her, smiling.
“Neither have Uncle Cassio and I,” Luca chimed in, “It is
bad enough our sister is married. We won’t stand for our
nieces getting married.”
Cassio walked up to me, his stride powerful and his eyes
scanning my body. His gaze on me felt like a breeze, but my
body instantly heated up a few degrees. It was
incomprehensible that my body never reacted like this.
Ever! Yet, this man managed so effortlessly to turn me on
with a simple, innocent look.
Well, not that innocent. It felt like he was stripping me
naked with his eyes.
“That’s right, girls. You two will be nuns,” Cassio
announced, then leaned over pressing his lips to my cheek.
“Hello, Vita Mia,” he rasped softly against my cheek, so
only I could hear him. His voice did things to me, melting
my insides and mending the broken pieces within me. I
really loved his endearment and the intimacy of it.
Now that I had a glimpse at the memory from long ago,
maybe it made sense that I felt safe around him. I just
wished I remembered it all.
“Cassio,” I greeted him, my tone slightly breathless. My
heart fluttered in my chest, his scent, mixture of ocean and
woodsy cologne, invading my senses. That scent would
forever be his.
“Pffft.” Arianna broke the moment and we both turned
to look at her. She rolled her eyes and waved her hand
dismissing her uncles’ statement. “Whatever, dude.”
The room burst into laughter and somehow the
atmosphere for the night had been set.
 Jack, Cassio, and the men ended up talking among each
other, while I hung back with Mom, Margaret, and Bianca.
The twins were in their own world.
“Dinner is ready,” Mom announced.
“You should sit with us,” Margaret told Bianca. “So we
can interrogate you.” Bianca gave her an odd look and I
groaned inwardly. Margaret must have seen my expression
so she quickly added, “What? Tell me you don’t have any
questions, Áine. Like why didn’t we know you were related
to Cassio?”
I looked at Bianca apologetically. “You don’t have to
answer that.”
“It’s okay,” Bianca assured me then sighed deeply. “I
learned when my dad-” she winced, “... ummm, when the
man that raised me died.” Wow, this kind of felt like dé-jà
vu. “It was a shock. And the whole thing with the belles
arrangement.” My head snapped to her and she rolled her
eyes. “Yeah, it was a lot to take in. Nico saved me from all
that, otherwise Benito was going to sell me.”
The same terminology was in Cassio’s email to Jack. I
was too focused on the fact that Marco and Chad were
working together that the belles arrangement didn’t really
seem important.
“Any chance you could expand on that whole
arrangement?” I asked her. “Is it like a dating site?”
Bianca’s eyes flashed with anger. “No, it’s an auction,”
she hissed. “They get women of important, rich, or
influential families, and sell them like cattle to the highest
bidder. Grace Vitale, Matteo’s mom, barely escaped. It’s
horrific to think people could do that.” I nodded at a loss
for words. There wasn’t a single thing I could possibly think
to say. “My grandfather was one of those that signed that
agreement with the Kings, and the women of our family
were dragged into that clusterfuck.”
My eyes flickered to the men to ensure they couldn’t
hear us. “And your brothers were okay with that?”
 “Of course not!” Bianca almost sounded insulted on
their behalf. “They had been fighting him for a long time.”
There was another confirmation.
“Sorry, I was just wondering-”
“Cassio and Luca suffered a lot under their father… our
father,” she answered. “I don’t know the whole story, but
they don’t agree with what their brother is doing, or when
their father was responsible for it. Of course, Benito is dead
now.”
A shadow crossed her face and I remembered the
rumors. “Who killed him?” I couldn’t resist asking her.
Guilt passed her expression and lingered in her eyes.
“Luca took the blame.”
I frowned at the odd answer. Margaret and I shared a
quick glance. Before I could ask another question, Bianca’s
husband came up to her and wrapped his arms around her.
“Ready to eat, Cara Mia?” I raised my eyebrow.
“Remember, you are eating for three.”
She chuckled and I stared at her in disbelief. “You are
pregnant with twins again?” I mean what were the odds!
And honestly, seeing her ruthless husband that tortured
and killed men acting like a big teddy bear… yeah,
somehow it struck a nerve. In a good way. Was Cassio like
that too?
“Yes,” she beamed. She was obviously happy about it.
“Wow.” Jesus, she’d have four kids and I was barely out
of virginhood. What. The. Hell.
“I’m pregnant too,” Margaret chimed in. “Thank fuck
not twins. I’m not sure what I’ll do with one kid.”
The room got uncomfortably silent. Margaret
unintentionally reminded everyone that the Callahan family
gypped Cassio and violated the agreement. Though after
our conversation yesterday, I knew Cassio never intended
to marry her. So he kind of set them up.
“I’m starving,” I broke the silence. “What’s for dinner,
Mom?”
 “Your favorite,” she said.
I turned to Bianca. “By the way, how is John?”
Her husband grumbled and my eyes snapped to him.
Bianca took his hand, chuckling lightly. He is jealous, I
realized. The big, bad mobster was jealous of good time
John.
“He’s good,” Bianca answered, patting her husband’s
hand. “Nico helped him kickstart his company back up.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Huh? I thought his company was
doing great.”
Bianca rolled her eyes. “Umm, Nico bought his vendors
out.”
“Oh.” Uncomfortable silence followed. “How is Angie?
Those two dating again?”
Bianca shook her head. “Um, no. She hooked up with a
guy that works for Nico. They just broke up, so she’s on the
mend.”
“Oh.” I was certain Angie and John would have ended up
together somehow, though I kind of wanted someone better
for him. He was too good for Angie, but unfortunately the
guy didn’t have eyes for anyone else.
“Áine, you sit next to me and Bianca will sit next to you.”
My mother started directing our seating arrangement at
the table.
The air between my mother and I was so tense, you
could slice it with the knife.
“How about if Margaret sits next to you?” I suggested. It
would be a good way for the two to talk out their issues and
be done with it.
“You’ll have to talk to me eventually, Áine,” Mom
reprimanded. I just couldn’t believe she would do it in this
setting. We still haven’t talked about the whole change of
paternity and lies that apparently loomed over our family. It
was important, but it freaking hurt that she couldn’t have
somehow eased me into it when those two got married.
After all, I was old enough.
 I avoided looking her way. “Of course,” I muttered. “I
was just going to sit next to Cassio. Getting to know my
future husband and all that. Since the wedding is this
weekend. This is like speed dating to the altar.”
Someone choked out a laugh but quickly stifled it. Yes, I
was using Cassio as an excuse. A chair dragging over the
dining room hardwood floor echoed through the silence,
and I took a seat next to Cassio with a smile on my face.
His eyes twinkled while amusement played on his face.
“I think your mother is trying to butter you up,”
Margaret blurted out as she sat herself down. “The whole
wrong daddy thing. But don’t worry, your favorite dinner
plate will fix it.” My head snapped to Margaret. She was
unusually cranky. She shrugged. “Hormones.”
My lips tugged up. I had a feeling she’d use that excuse
a lot. Though something was up; she usually wasn’t snappy
nor the type to attack verbally.
“If you would have been responsible, Margaret Callahan,
there wouldn’t have been any need to butter up.” Oh, shit!
My mother was in the attack mode too.
“Well, excuse me for being the reason you finally had to
divulge the truth,” Margaret snapped.
“Lovely,” I muttered, sneaking a view our guests’ way.
They didn’t seem uncomfortable, almost as if they were
used to family bickering. Sharing a glance with Bianca, I
mumbled, “Just ignore them.”
I smiled sweetly to Luca and Cassio. “Welcome to the
family,” I announced.
Bianca chuckled. “Oh, we’ll have to visit a lot. You live
here?”
“No, in the city.” I glanced at Mom. She and Margaret
were bickering sotto voce.
“Oh, that’s right,” Luca chimed in. “Cassio owns that
building.”
My head snapped to him, everyone else forgotten.
“What?”
 “Luca,” Cassio growled.
“Oops.” Though I was certain Luca didn’t slip. He
wanted me to know Cassio owned the building.
“So Áine, are you all ready for the wedding?” Bianca
asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the
bomb.
I shook my head. “Not sure,” I muttered. “I think so.” I
hadn’t done a single thing to prepare for it. I figured Mum
had it all going. I locked eyes with Cassio. “So you own that
building?”
He nodded in confirmation.
“I guess it makes sense now why it’s so secure.”
Because what else could I possibly say. “You live there
too?”
“Yeah, sometimes I stay there.”
“You knew I lived there?”
“Yes.” Well, at least he didn’t lie.
“Anything else I should know?” I questioned him.
“I own HC.”
“Hmmm.” Wow, he has been so close all this time and I
never ran into him. Not once! “I guess we could carpool
next time.”
I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It felt a bit stalkerish.
Strike a bit. It was all the way stalkerish.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Bianca muttered. “It is
Cassio’s way of protecting you. Trust me, Nico was no
better.”
“What?” Nico growled, feigning discontent on his face
though his half-smile kind of ruined it.
She rolled her eyes. “Birth control,” she scolded him.
“Do I need to say more? Because there is more.”
Nico offered her the most bedazzling smile and would
have made me fall for the man if I wasn’t already so
wrapped up into Cassio.
“But that’s what you love about me, Cara,” he drawled.
 I shook my head in disbelief. Bianca had that man
wrapped around her little finger.
My eyes darted to Margaret and Mom. They were still
bickering back and forth in hushed tones. Maybe placing
Margaret next to Mom wasn’t such a grand idea after all.
“Well, if you didn’t-” My mother’s voice rose an octave
too loud, attracting everyone’s eyes back to the two of
them.
“What the fuck is going on?” Jack gritted. Yeah, wouldn’t
we all like to know. My guess was that my mother went all
protective over me and now was blaming Margaret for the
situation I found myself in. Though, somehow it all worked
out for the best, and Margaret wasn’t to blame. Cassio
lived in my apartment building. Maybe I could get him to
tell me another thing tonight, over dinner. Well, we are
having dinner now. Over drinks?
I turned to ask Cassio when Margaret’s voice stopped
me.
“Tell your wife to get off my case,” Margaret hissed at
my mother. “Yes, we know I fucked up. And Áine wouldn’t
be in this situation if I hadn’t fucked up. But here we are.
What do you want me to do about it?”
The twins stopped playing, their eyes darting around
each adult in the room.
“Margaret Callahan,” Jack’s voice held a note of
warning. But knowing that Cassio would have never
married her lifted all the blame off my cousin. A thought
snuck into my mind. Cassio said he never would have
married Margaret, but he didn’t clarify how he was going
to ensure he didn’t. What if-
No! That would be a step too far.
“Áine, you-” My mother tried to explain, but I cut her off.
“Mum, whatever it is,” I spoke in a low voice, “... this
really isn’t the time. And let Margaret be,” I warned. “You
can’t blame her for your damn decisions over twenty-five
years ago.” Nor the possible set up by my future husband, I
added silently.
My mother could be quite protective and overbearing
sometimes, but I wouldn’t let her attack my cousin. If she
needed someone to blame for this arrangement gone
wrong, she just had to look at her husband.
“Fucking fantastic that your family is just as messy as
ours,” Luca announced with a wide grin.
I narrowed my eyes on Luca. “I wouldn’t bet on it,
Luca,” I said, bringing the glass of wine to my lips. “After
all, my family doesn’t deal in human trafficking.”
“Kiddo, what has gotten into you?” Jack growled, but I
just shrugged unperturbed.
“Not much,” I answered. “In fact, I’m having a grand
time.”
I smiled sweetly and he shook his head. “Stubborn
woman. It must be the Irish in you, I guess.”
My eyes snapped to him. It wasn’t the first time he’d
said that. Except, it was the first time that it held the truth.
Before I’d take it as his adoption, but now, it meant more.
Damn it! He’d been giving me signs all along, and I just
never read into them.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Thirty-Two

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

I watched as Bianca and Áine hugged each other for

the third time, promising they’d see each other more
frequently. Each time I thought of Áine back in Turkey, that
scene playing out in my mind, the punch in my gut was
abrupt. I’d lose my goddamn mind to lose her now.
Another hug and the two women that meant everything
to me chuckled. “We act like two old ladies,” Bianca
remarked with humor in her voice.
Margaret disappeared after dinner, excusing herself
with a headache. Luca wasn’t far behind her. I didn’t have a
good feeling about those two. Margaret was a wild thing.
Luca didn’t need wild; it would send him off the rails.
Áine gave me the idea of a carpool, so I convinced her
I’d drive her home. After all, we were neighbors.
“Cassio, I have to warn you,” Jack grumbled, muttering
a few curses under his breath. He hid it well but he wasn’t
pleased to see his daughter married to me. I couldn’t blame
him, except that she was mine. Even though I was talking
to Nico and Jack, my eyes were on Áine the entire time. “I
see my daughter cry once, you’ll be dead before you know
it. I see her distressed, I’ll torture you before I kill you.”
Nico grinned. “Oh, payback is a bitch,” he rumbled. “Add
a few more threats, Callahan,” Nico encouraged him.
Fucker!
I couldn’t well flip him a middle finger in front of my
future father-in-law.
“Got it,” I told Callahan in a cold voice. If he was
threatening me about anything else, he’d be dead. Since it
was for the well-being of his daughter, I’d give him a pass.
“Heads up though,” I warned him. “Áine won’t be seeing Dr.
Taylor anymore.”
Jack stiffened, his eyes flickering to the women. “Áine
told you about it?”
“We both agreed it was for the best,” I told him, keeping
it brief. “Please make sure your wife understands that too.”
Jack shoved his hand through his silver hair. “It was
bound to happen,” he muttered. “It was one of the reasons
she insisted on moving out.” I cocked my eyebrow in
surprise. When I didn’t say anything, Jack continued, “Áine
remembers the events through nightmares and disjointed
images. They give her headaches, bad migraines. Emily
could spot it and would take her to Dr. Taylor before the
headaches got too bad. Áine liked to push her timeline.
Extend the length of the visits further and further apart,
grasping for those wretched memories. To understand
them. Those two got into it and Áine insisted on moving
out. Emily frets over her, and our daughter hates it not
understanding what it all derived from-”
We all knew what it was derived from. Áine’s mother
blamed herself. It didn’t make any sense but there it was.
Just as I blamed myself for my mother’s death and Benito’s
wrongdoings against my friends.
I nodded in understanding. Jack put his one hand on my
shoulder, the move fatherly. “You just make sure you take
care of her. And keep her from that filthy half-brother of
yours.”
He walked away without another word, joining the
women.
 “Do you have a time and location for that final belle
auction yet?” I asked Nico once Jack was out of earshot.
He shook his head. “I’m working on it. I have a list of
women they intend to use for this auction. I gave a heads
up to Luciano and Vasili. Isabella and Grace are on that
auction list too.”
“Does Bianca know?” I asked him.
Nico’s eyes sought out Bianca. He was worried too.
Despite all his security and guards, he couldn’t help but
worry. He finally found something good and just like the
rest of us, he was scared of losing it. The rage he went
through after his sister’s death would be doubled if
something would ever happen to Bianca or their kids.
“No,” he finally answered. “I told her there are some
bad things going on and we had to be on high alert. She
kept the twins home this week, which suited me fine.”
Except he knew keeping them in the compound indefinitely
wouldn’t work.
“All good with pregnancy?” I asked him.
Nico’s face actually softened. “Yeah, all good. Strong
heartbeats. Got sonogram pictures. Bianca didn’t want to
share them with you and overshadow the engagement.”
“Nonsense.” Just as I said that Áine and Bianca joined
us.
“What’s nonsense?” Bianca inquired.
“I want to see the sonogram pictures,” I told her. “After
all, I am the favorite uncle. The other one disappeared on
us.”
She chuckled. “Just you wait until Luca hears that.” She
glanced behind her. “Girls, leave Mrs. Callahan alone. We
have to go.”
Jack’s wife was giving them treats for the road. They’d
be hyper and it wasn’t like they needed more energy.
Áine rolled her eyes. “Just so you know, she never let me
have sweets at that age.”
 Bianca chuckled. “Just you wait until you have your kids.
It will make you even more resentful.”
Áine’s cheeks reddened. “Let’s see those sonogram
pictures,” she changed the subject. “I hope you have boys
and they look like your husband.”
Twenty minutes later, I had Áine in my car, driving
home.
“Fancy car,” she commented as I left Jack’s compound.
She twirled the engagement ring around her finger. I was
happy to see her wearing it.
“It’s just a car,” I answered. “Áine?”
“Hmmm.”
“Do you like the ring?”
She glanced down to it, as if she wasn’t aware she was
fidgeting with it.
“I do,” she replied. “Though to be honest, I’m not much
for rings.”
It didn’t surprise me to hear it. Especially since she did
field work. Jewelry hindered fighting. The five-carat
diamond was set in antique settings that belonged to my
nonna.
“You’ll have to wear the wedding ring,” I told her.
“Tattoo offer still stands.”
Her soft chuckle filled the car. “I will.” Silence filled the
car and before she even opened her mouth, I knew she had
a question. “Hunter?”
“Hmmm.”
“Did you set up Margaret to get pregnant?”
Fuck!
“I set her up to be invited to a masquerade party she
had been wanting to attend,” I finally told her. “Of course, I
couldn’t guarantee the pregnancy. But I was going to use
her inappropriate behavior to corner Jack.”
She didn’t like it. “That’s fucked up.”
“I never said I was an honorable man.”
 Her delicate eyebrows creased. “Yet, somehow you
saved me.”
I remained silent for a while, and I wondered if this was
her pissed off mood.
“Don’t do it again,” she finally broke the silence. I
nodded. “And you should apologize to her.”
“You do know she did worse things than just that?”
“I don’t care, Cassio,” she said, her teeth slightly
clenched. I also noted she switched from Hunter to Cassio.
She was mad. “Her life, her choices. It is different when
she is set up. And she’s family.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Thirty-Three

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

I narrowed my eyes on him, waiting for an answer. Yet,

he seemed untroubled by his admission. I refused to
let anyone, man or woman, take advantage, hurt or
manipulate people I cared about. No matter how damn hot
they were.
“Cassio?” I said through clenched teeth. Each second
that he didn’t answer added another notch to my anger.
Yeah, this gene I got from Jack Callahan alright.
“I like it better when you call me Hunter.”
I blinked confused. Wait. What?
I didn’t realize I switched from Hunter to Cassio, but
that hardly seemed to be the point right now. After a tense
stretch of time, he gave me a fleeting glance.
“I won’t do it again to your family and friends,” he
agreed.
With a small exhale, the tightness in my chest eased. It
wasn’t a big argument, but it gave me a glimpse of how we
would work. We had chemistry, but marriage was a lot
more than chemistry and this conversation gave me hope.
Hope for us.
“Why do you want to rush the wedding?” I asked him out
of nowhere.
 He swiftly switched lanes before throwing me another
look. “I thought it was clear. Two years is a long time to
wait for someone.”
“We could date,” I proposed. Though, waiting wasn’t
really thrilling for me either. But something about spending
your wedding day that was prepared with someone else in
mind didn’t sit well with me.
“You don’t want to marry me?” His voice was relaxed,
his posture never changed, except for the grip on his
steering wheel. It was barely noticeable but it tightened,
giving me a glimpse of his white knuckles.
“I just never imagined it would go like this,” I told him.
“A day that has been prepared for someone else for such a
long time and suddenly it is my day.”
“Butterfly, do you want to marry me?” The question was
simple. Surprisingly the answer was simple too. The man I
have been talking to for the past six weeks, that I kissed
two years ago and again in Vegas. But it was so much more
than just a lover’s touch. He made me feel safe. Despite
being the son of the very person that killed my father and
brother of the man that featured in my nightmares.
Cassio Hunter King made me feel safe.
“I do.” A little sigh echoed in the closed space, and I
wasn’t sure whether it was mine or his.
His car came to a stop and I glanced around, realizing
we were back at my apartment building. His building. He
parked and turned to face me, his big palms on both of my
cheeks.
“Tell me what you want, Áine,” he demanded. “I want
you to get what you always dreamed of. Big wedding, small
wedding. Anything.”
The look he gave me burned right through my soul. The
maddening desire in his dark depths made me feel wanted,
protected, cherished. It was all it took.
Our eyes held and my breath hitched, while my heart
fluttered lightly. He pressed his lips against mine and I
sucked in my breath. His kisses were so incredibly hot,
sending fire right down to my toes. The term curling toes
finally made sense. A groan resounded in his chest, his
hand pushed into my hair at the nape and held me firm. He
slipped his tongue into my mouth, pulling on my bottom lip
between his teeth and a hazy rush of lust pooled in my
lower stomach.
“Hunter?” I murmured softly against his lips.
“Hmmm.”
“Your apartment or mine?” Suddenly we were back in
Vegas, and I knew the answer before he opened his mouth.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “Mine.”
It took us five minutes to get to his floor. We busted
through his apartment door entangled in each other, our
mouths colliding and our hands hungry. I have no idea how
we found ourselves in the bedroom, Hunter seated on the
edge of the bed, me grinding my hot core against his thigh,
while our tongues danced to the tune only the two of us
could hear.
My nipples tightened, tingling in expectation. Heat
pulsated between my thighs, wanting to feel his cock deep
inside me.
“Hunter, I-” What do I say? I needed him. Like the sun
needed the moon to balance the night against the day. His
touch ignited me and calmed me. Now that I was so close
to him, breathing in his scent, feeling his eyes consume me
so effortlessly, my heart was stuck in my throat. I wanted
him so much. He would light the match to my body, and I’d
disintegrate to dust without him. I brushed a hand across
his neck and into his thick dark hair. “I really want to marry
you,” was all I ended up saying in a breathless voice.
I would be his wife in every sense of the word. At least,
I’d try to.
His calloused hands came to my thighs in a light touch
and skimmed up my flesh, under my dress, leaving a trail of
sparks in its path. His fingers grew firm, gripping the flesh
sending the unbearable ache between my legs. His palms
slid under my panties, gripping my ass. My fingers curled
in his hair, the hot and slick need for him making me lose
all my senses.
“Hunter-” his name escaped my lips on a sigh. He pulled
my dress over my head, discarding it onto the floor. My
eyes remained locked on him, basking in the look in his
eyes that whispered soundless promises that I was sure
he’d keep.
My bra followed the dress, all the while my chest rose
up and down with anticipation. I haven’t felt him since
Vegas. I lifted up onto my feet, standing between his wide
open knees, my legs slightly shaky.
He tugged the panties down my legs, and I already
craved his touch. Both my mind and my body whispered
that I had been waiting for him. He was mine and I was his.
My eyes closed with the intensity of how right that felt.
To be his and claim him for mine. His hands came back
between my thighs and without a warning, his one finger
pushed inside me.
“Fuck,” he rasped in a rough voice. His voice ran down
my spine. This man was everything. Love, lust, and
happiness. The thought rang in the furthest corner of my
mind, but it drowned out as his mouth latched onto my
breast and he dragged his teeth across my nipple. All the
while his finger fucked me slowly, in and out. My head fell
back and my hands came up to his neck, holding on to him
like my own rock. He kept moving his finger, the pressure
building between my legs until it was too much, and I was
scared I’d disintegrate into ashes.
I swayed into him, uncaring if I burned out. It wouldn’t
be such a bad way to go, with his mouth on me and his
touch branding my skin.
“So fucking wet,” he growled. Two fingers slid deep
inside me, and my head fell back with a moan.
 “Hunter-” I panted. The pressure built; I was so close as
he fingered me hard and fast. Over and over. My skin was
so hot and fire burned in my lower belly, creating a blaze
that only he could feed.
His mouth worshiped my breast, his tongue and teeth
alternating between nipping and kissing. His fingers
slipped in and out of me, brushing against my clit, building
the pressure. Until it burst into flame, shooting white lights
behind my eyelids. A shudder fluttered through my body, as
languid heat spread through every inch of my blood.
His lips nibbled on my earlobe and his deep, raspy voice
rumbled through me. “Mine. Forever.”
His claim should have brought me back to earth, but
instead I floated higher into space. My heart beat hard
against my ribcage. I opened my eyes and met burning
flames in the depths of his dark eyes.
“I want more,” I breathed, reaching for the zipper of his
pants. My fingers fumbled with it, eager for more of that
height he gave me a glimpse of in Vegas. We were two
opposites - me naked, him in his three-piece suit. Yet, we fit
perfectly together. Like two teenagers, we both worked on
discarding every single piece of his clothing. Then finally,
my eyes took him in, his glorious chest on display, his tan
skin and abs on full display. I loved his tattoos. Every single
one of them, starting from his hand to his forearm, neck
and down his chest.
I waited for you too long and now I want it all.
“Stand up,” he rasped, a hard demand in his voice. He
was jerking me upwards, spread my legs and pulled me
close. My pussy was next to his face. I braced myself with a
hand on his shoulder, his hands dug into my butt and his
face buried into my pussy. Fire ignited like a volcano, his
mouth sucked and licked, nipping at my clit. My skin
seared with need. My nails dug into his shoulder and I
rolled my hips against his mouth. He was killing me,
stealing my breath and sanity. And I couldn’t have been
happier about it.
Before the release shot through me, he grabbed my hips,
slid me onto his lap and slammed inside of me.
A choked cry escaped me. He stilled, his eyes darkening
and burning hot. I was still tender and sore.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured silky. His hands gentled on
me. He leaned forward and took my lips with reverence,
kissing me. Capturing my top lip between his, my body
relaxed with each gentle kiss and touch he gave me. He
leaned and ran his lips down the length of my throat,
trailing kisses that would brand me as his for the rest of my
life. No matter how short it turned out to be.
“I’ll give you everything,” he rasped a promise I knew he
would keep. His scruff brushed my soft skin, his teeth
nipping at my collarbone. I sighed, my hands roamed his
body. I wanted to feel every muscle, know every inch of
him. His touch on me was hungry, urgent and it fed the
flames within me. I never wanted them extinguished.
I rolled my hips, slow and easy at first. The soreness was
there but the fire and need for him was greater. I wrapped
my arms around his shoulders and buried my face into his
neck, inhaling deeply. He smelled like a perfect mixture of
oceans and woodsy cologne. Like safety, desire and love.
A shiver ran through me, the heat sparkling as I ground
my clit against his pelvis. His hands roamed down my back,
his hard palms scraping against my soft skin. They paused
at my ass and his fingers dug into it, pulling me harder
against him. He was deep inside me and with each roll of
my hips against him, my moans became breathier, louder. I
rose an inch and then slid back down, moving up and down
against his shaft.
His hands took control and started moving me up and
down. He took my mouth into his and captured my next
moan. He fucked me, guiding my body up and down over
him and hot pressure began to build. My breaths were
heavy, my chest ready to explode.
“Fuck, Áine,” he groaned. He lowered his head and
sucked a nipple into his mouth, and with each thrust inside
me, his teeth pulled on the sensitive buds.
“Oh, God,” I moaned. “Hunter, please.“
His fingers dug into my hips and he thrusted again.
Hard. And again. He took my lips into a hard kiss, bit into
my lower lip and my body shuddered, the pressure burst
into a million stars. His body tensed, pressed his face
against my throat, let out a groan and bit my neck as he
found his release.
This. This was what it was all about.
Love. Passion.
It was what made people lose all sense - wage wars,
burn cities, pledge loyalty, kill. I’d kill anyone that hurt this
man. Just as I knew deep down, he’d kill anyone that hurt
me.
We remained still, both of our breathings frantic, my
skin hot against his. Chest to chest. Heartbeat to heartbeat.
Together.
Hours later, both of us laid in bed, sweat glistening on
our skin and the only sound was our heavy breathing. We
just finished round three. Or was it four? I didn’t have a
clue; I was in a pleasure induced coma.
Holy shit!
My heart still raced from what we had done. I felt this
intense connection to him; it was raw and all-consuming.
He dozed off, but I was too wound up to sleep. Besides,
subconsciously I worried about dreams that would certainly
follow. So I’d bask in this amazing feeling for as long as I
could, as I listened to his even breathing. His strong
heartbeat against mine.
He was exceptionally good in bed. It made me jealous of
all the women that were lucky to have felt his hands and
his mouth before me. A possessive feeling swelled in my
chest at the thought of any other woman touching him. Or
even worse, Hunter wanting another woman.
Then a thought hit me and I jolted up.
“Hunter?”
His eyes snapped open and he reached for his gun, his
gaze darting around the room.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.
I chuckled. Okay, maybe I should have just given him a
light nudge.
“Put the gun away,” I told him. “Nobody is attacking.”
“Fuck!” He shoved it back into his nightstand and
turned my way. “What’s the matter?”
I realized too late that it might not be the best time to
discuss this, but too late now. He was wide awake. I kept
chewing on my bottom lip, trying to figure out a delicate
way to discuss the terms of our marriage.
He took my face between his hands, both of our naked
bodies brushing against each other and just like that I was
turned on again.
“Butterfly, just spill it,” he murmured, brushing his nose
against mine.
“Our marriage will be exclusive, right?” I blurted out.
“Because you’re mine and I’ll-” Kill anyone that touches
you.
Okay, it would seem I was slightly possessive.
This passion we shared was mine, and I refused to share
it. I wasn’t the tame, good wife that would put up with her
husband’s demands and wishes, but I’d be there for him
and he’d be there for me. Nobody else. And truth be told, if
I found him to be unfaithful, I didn’t think I’d be able to
keep my temper in check.
“I will be only yours and you will be only mine.” His
voice was serious. “You’ll be the only woman I’ll be
fucking.”
Relief washed over me, like cool water against heated
skin. This uncertainty was foreign to me, and I didn’t like
the feeling. For years I’d heard Margaret and other
girlfriends talk about insecurities, suffering over men that
didn’t call or didn’t care, and could never relate. And now,
it was all slamming into me like a freight train.
“Cassio, I think we should probably talk about-” I
searched for words. There was so much that we didn’t
know about each other. Actually, we knew nothing about
each other. “I guess everything,” I finally muttered.
It wasn’t just the question of the arranged marriage.
There was so much more - images that now I knew were
connected to him, his family that was one of the most
feared ones on this planet, my determination to bring the
King’s human trafficking to an end and our future together.
I was smart enough to know that divorce in the underworld
wasn’t a possibility and living for the rest of my life just
settling wouldn’t work for me.
He nodded his agreement, pulling me into his embrace,
my ear pressed to his heartbeat.
“We are going to do this in the middle of the night,
huh?” he teased. “You want to go first?” he asked. He didn’t
seem frazzled nor nervous. Truthfully, I was a bit of both.
Usually, I kept my shit together, but around him, parts of
me that I thought were broken just came to life and
confused the crap out of me.
I shrugged. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” he said. “Let’s hear it.”
I took a shaky breath in and then slowly let it out. In a
strange way, his scent and warmth comforted me. “I know
you've had someone following me so I assume you know
about my side business of saving trafficked women,” I
blurted out.
“I know.” I didn’t expect that answer so I raised my
head, searching out his eyes.
The moon was full, throwing off shadows on both of us
through his large floor to ceiling window overlooking the
city.
 “How do you know?”
“Just a few days ago, you were in Turkey,” he said in a
soft voice, pulling me close. “You scared the living daylights
out of me, rescuing those women, being in harm’s way.” We
watched each other, his eyebrows furrowed as if it pained
him to remember the whole event. “You won’t be reckless
with your life like that again.”
“You were there?” I questioned him with a furrowed
brow.
He nodded. “Luca and I. We were shooting at the men
that were shooting at you.”
“At the compound?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No.” There wasn’t a second of
hesitation before he responded. “Luca and I got a tip that
Marco had a shipment of women delivered there,” he
answered, holding my gaze. “We were going to get them
out and level that place to the ground. But you beat me to
it. And I had Nico dig up everything on you.” He smiled,
unapologetically. “I want to take care of you, keep you
safe.”
I tilted my head watching for any deceit but my sixth
sense was telling me he was truthful.
“You weren’t there for the women?” I asked in a quiet
tone.
“I don’t agree with human trafficking,” he said in a hard
tone. “It’s non-negotiable.” He took my chin between his
fingers. “How long until you trust me?”
Leaning closer to him, I pressed my mouth to his. I was
falling for him, fast and hard.
“I do trust you, Hunter,” I murmured against his lips.
“Not understanding why my body and mind trust you is
what is scaring the shit out of me.”
It was the truth. I was operating on my instinct, but
things that lingered in the shadows were scaring me.
“You just need time,” he said in a raspy, hushed tone.
“Don’t force it, Butterfly.”
 “You said we’ve met before,” I said, determined to get a
hint. A nudge in the right direction. Anything. “I need a
clue.” Anything would be better than these distorted
images of his hand reaching for me. Carrying me. “Where
have I seen you? When?” His lips curved, and I knew what
he was thinking about. “I’m not talking about two years
ago,” I added quickly, my cheeks warming. He was trying to
distract me.
“We met eleven years ago,” he finally said. “I can’t tell
you the details. You will have to remember those on your
terms.” I frowned. Everything always went back to when I
was fourteen. That year was such a fuzzy year, and I could
barely recall it. I remembered every single thing that
happened when I was ten, eleven, twelve. Any year, but
that one. Somehow that year seemed important. A key to
something that I couldn’t quite distinguish. He took my
hand and squeezed. “When you remember, I’ll answer all
your questions. But it wouldn’t be fair for me to give you
my version of our encounter. You lived through it, and you
need to remember how you saw it.”
Absent-mindedly, I traced the rose tattoo on his hand
with a featherlight touch. A quick flash of an image. A
man’s hand with a rose tattoo reaching for me. The image
was clear as day. My eyes lowered to the tattoo on his
hand. Now I knew it was Cassio’s tattoo, but I needed
more. Patience was a virtue, I was told. But to me it wasn’t.
Remembering it all was life or death to me.
Then a memory came. Out of nowhere, clear as day.
“The prime minister’s daughter?” The pilot I had never
seen shouted, watching the man behind me. The pilot
seemed shocked, but I focused on the hands keeping me
safe. Tattooed hands keeping me secured.
“Butterfly, can I check your shoulder?” A low voice
asked tentatively. I met the familiar dark gaze, waiting for
my permission. I didn’t understand why he wanted to check
it, but I trusted him. He saved me. I gave him a small nod
and his inked hand unbuttoned top button of my dirty
blouse and checked the back of my shoulder. It only took a
second before he buttoned my shirt back.
“Thank you.”
My eyes locked on Cassio’s one hand that rested around
me. My brows furrowed. These images were so disjointed,
it was hard to understand them. It almost felt like a
memory, but then it didn’t.
“Why can’t I remember?” I asked him, raising my eyes
to his. “It’s like a disjointed, broken up movie with bits and
pieces.”
“Probably a combination of a coping mechanism and
other stuff,” he answered. He wouldn’t tell me anything
else, I knew it.
“Two years ago, did you know who I was?” I was all over
the place, the topics incoherent but somehow connected in
my mind.
“Yes.” When I arched my brow, he continued. “There
aren’t two of you, Butterfly. I recognized you the second
you bumped into me.”
My heart acted weird around him. My whole body
hummed with anticipation.
“The arranged marriage with Margaret-” The words
trailed off. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say.
“Callahan wouldn’t let me have you,” he finally said as if
he could read my thoughts. “It has always been you, Áine.”
My heart raced, unlike ever before. He was the only man
that managed to stir this reaction. “There hasn’t been
another woman for me since we crossed paths two years
ago.”
Bum. Bum.
Bum. Bum.
Bum. Bum.
If there was a part of me I held back, it just became
Hunter’s. He owned every ounce of me. If he dragged me to
hell, I’d follow. Because Cassio Hunter King was safety,
craving and love, all wrapped in one.
“I don’t want to marry you for a wedding that was
arranged for Margaret,” I admitted in a low voice. It was
petty, but I wanted something just his and just mine. He
was mine. To hell with anyone else.
He sat up, pulling me up with him. “What are you
saying?”
“Can’t it just be you and me?” I asked. “We could do the
big wedding some other time.”
He watched me pensively, but it was hard to tell what
thoughts crossed his mind.
“Your parents won’t be happy.”
“Okay, so we tell them to meet us at City Hall,” I
suggested. “Your family too.”
He chuckled softly, pressing his mouth against mine. “I
like that idea. Let’s do a big wedding in Italy with Nonno.
He pretty much raised Luca and I.” I nodded eagerly, loving
this idea with every second. “Tomorrow, you’ll be my wife.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Thirty-Four

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

C ity Hall was empty, and it smelled of old paper, years

of wedding vows and promises made in front of
officiants.
For the hundredth time today, my eyes darted Áine’s
way. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, her steps
keeping up with me and my eyes sought out her ocean
blues again. Her presence calmed me, settled me in the
best way possible. Her hands clutched the dress, lifting it
off the floor. The dress was simple, accenting her slim
waist. The neckline was accentuated but not too much and
her hair framed her face, the color stark against the pearl
white of the silky dress. And those lips!
She carried herself like a queen. My queen.
The last few days went unexpectedly. After our midnight
pillow talk, I sent a message to Luca, Bianca and Nico
asking them to meet us at City Hall. Áine did the same with
her parents and Margaret.
This new plan suited me just fine. I’d rather she was
mine sooner rather than later. And marrying her in church
with Nonno present felt right.
Her hand squeezed mine and my gaze traveled over her
again. It was impossible to keep my eyes off her. She was
the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. The fiercest too.
 When we got up this morning, we showered together. I
washed her hair, running shampoo through her flaming red
locks, then rinsing it off. Then she insisted on washing me,
her slender fingers roaming my body. I couldn’t resist her; I
pressed her up against the wall and she wrapped her legs
around my waist as I slid inside her. She was ready for me,
wet and hot, and as I thrust in and out of her, nothing felt
as good. We fit right, like two pieces of the same puzzle.
After our shower together, I took her down the private
staircase from my apartment to hers that nobody in the
building had access to but us. She entered her apartment
and before she slid inside it, I asked her to leave her hair
down. She wanted to surprise me with her wardrobe choice
and she certainly did.
Now as I watched her glorious, long mane reflecting red
flames under the rays of sun and the lights, I couldn't help
but marvel at it. She left her hair down for me. For me.
A simple request and she granted it without fishing for
more compliments or asking the reasons. Luca narrowed
his eyes on me, studying me. He disagreed with rushing
this. He thought I was too eager.
Damn straight I am.
We’d get married in the church and appease our
families, but she’d be mine already. Fuck delays and fuck
anyone that attempted to steal my woman from me. There
was no reason to wait and tempt fate.
Besides, her yes for this meant more than anything else.
I asked her to marry me and she agreed. I wasn’t forcing
her down the aisle to marry me. She asked for this, and I
was more than happy to appease her. No pressure from her
father or the possibility of a broken agreement. Áine said
yes; she took a chance on me.
Her gaze lifted to mine and a soft smile played around
her mouth. “Since this was a last minute decision,” she
said, barreling right through the fact that I couldn’t peel
my eyes off of her, “I didn’t have time to get you a ring.”
 “That’s okay.” I didn’t give a shit about a ring. I just
wanted her to be mine. Mrs. Áine King, my wife.
She eyed me up and down, almost appreciatively. “But I
care. So I hope you don’t mind wearing my grandfather’s. It
is one of my family heirlooms. He only had Mom so it
passed to me, instead of a male heir.”
I stopped and faced her. “If you’d rather hold on to it.”
She shook her head, grinning wide, and her eyes
shimmering happily. “I want you to have it.”
Fuck, she made me so happy. “Thank you.”
She couldn’t even imagine how much her gesture meant
to me. Her faith in me. It was priceless.
Another shared look and we stepped into the room with
the officiant waiting for us.
Our family was here already - Jack and his wife,
Margaret, Luca, Bianca and Nico with their girls.
Áine’s mother rushed to us. “Why are we changing
plans?” she questioned, her eyes narrowing on me.
“I asked H-... umm, Cassio if we could just do this,” Áine
explained, her hand squeezing mine. She was already
falling into a habit calling me Hunter, but she reserved it
for when we were alone. I liked it. “I prefer this to a circus.
Besides, Cassio’s Nonno should be present for the big
wedding, so we’ll do that there.”
It was already in the works. I sent a note last night
informing Nonno we’d be married in his church. To say he
was all ecstatic was an understatement. The arrangements
were in progress already.
“But why rush?” Callahan inquired.
“Why wait?” I retorted.
Luca grinned with a cat-that-ate-the-canary look on his
face. “I’d say, let’s get this over with,” he added, winking at
my soon-to-be bride. “Maybe she is knocked up.”
“I’m not,” Áine objected, glaring at Luca. “But you will
be knocked out if you don’t watch it.”
 Luca just grinned, unconcerned. He should be, because
I’d help my wife and he’d never be able to overpower both
of us.
Nico and Bianca came up, the two women hugging each
other. “Oh my gosh, we are going to be sisters,” Bianca
beamed. “And wait until you meet Nonno. You will love him.
This is definitely a much better plan for a wedding. Thanks
to your wedding in Sicily, Nico and I will have a second
honeymoon.”
Nico chuckled. “We barely got back from our first one.”
But that would not deter my sister.
The officiant cleared his throat and everyone rushed
back to their seats.
The two of us, hand-in-hand, stepped forward. It took all
of a few minutes to listen to his words, then we repeated
the vows, and I slipped the ring I’d gotten for her onto her
finger. Next it was her turn to do the same and she slid a
heavy, yellow gold ring onto my finger with a square black
diamond in the center.
“I pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant
announced and a heavy weight lifted off my chest.
She was my wife. My life.

A fter C ity H all , we all went to M aria ’ s pizzeria . I t was

Áine’s idea and I loved her even more for it. Maria and her
husband closed down the shop and dedicated it all to us.
Luciano, Grace, their boy, and Mr. Vitale joined us too. All
in all, the afternoon ended up being full of laughter, music,
and reminiscing. Just as a wedding day should be. It was
simple but Áine looked happy and that was all that
mattered to me.
There was a quiet confidence about her and that
reserved smile I saw on her during our engagement dinner
disappeared around people that mattered.
“Welcome to the family, Áine,” Mr. Vitale hugged my
wife, his fragile frame almost matching my wife’s. He was
getting up in his years, but I hadn’t seen him so excited in a
long time. He finally had his daughter-in-law and a
grandchild back. He was beaming.
She grinned widely, looking just as happy as Mr. Vitale.
“Thank you.” Her eyes fleeted to his family for a moment,
then returned back to him. “Thanks for coming on such
short notice.”
Grace joined in with Bianca, smiling wide and rubbing
her belly at the same time.
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Grace
announced softly. “Give it to Cassio to be the first man in
the group not to drag the woman down the aisle. It was a
true cause for celebration.”
Áine’s laugh rang through the small restaurant, her eyes
shining with excitement. Luciano and Nico gave their wives
a warning look, but both men looked too happy to be
efficient.
My wife fit in.
Callahan was wrong when he said Áine didn’t belong in
this life. She was everything the underworld needed. Her
strength, intelligence, and her loyalty had the potential to
tear down men in the underworld that meant harm. And
she wouldn’t need any man for it. Áine, Grace, and Bianca
were exactly the type of queens we needed.
A powerful king needed a strong queen at his side. Áine
King was all that, and so much more.
I watched her excuse herself with a smile and walk over
to her parents. I knew she’d hug it out with them. She
mentioned on our way to City Hall that she didn’t like to
hold grudges and while she was upset that they kept her
parentage to Jack a secret, she just wanted to move on
from it all.
 Hours of laughter and stories, and I had to admit our
little reception was better than anything else I could have
imagined. Luca grabbed a passerby out on the street and
asked her to snap a photo of us. With the Sicily landscape
themed wall painted behind us and scent of Italian
ingredients in the air, the moment was forever captured in
the late April afternoon.
On our way out of the restaurant, I told Maria our
wedding would be in Italy. She said she wouldn’t miss it for
the world, so we would be seeing her again. Soon.
I pulled up in my designated spot, in the private section
of the garage of our building in the city.
“We are home, Butterfly.”
I turned to look at her. Her eyes took my breath away
every goddamn time. The blue depths of the oceans that
could pull you in deeper and deeper. Her lips curved into a
soft smile, as she fidgeted with her wedding band. She
didn’t know it, but I had a tracker embedded into it. Her
location would always be sent to my phone. I’d take no
chances with her life.
My eyes locked on her finger, branded with my wedding
ring.
Mine.
It would tell the world she was mine. But more
importantly, she told me she was mine. In her soft voice she
pledged herself to me. Until death do us part. Willingly. It
was priceless.
During the small dinner, we came to our first married
compromise. She asked to wear her band but not
engagement ring. It interfered when she drew and she
wasn’t accustomed to wearing jewelry. Though she would
wear it for special occasions, and she’d never take the
wedding band off.
“I think you called me Butterfly when we first met,” she
said pensively.
 I nodded. It was the only word that mattered when it
came to her. Vita Mia because she was my life. Butterfly
because she had the strength to survive.
Last night I saw firsthand what Jack was talking about.
The terror on her face gutted me. The nightmare plagued
her, but the most terrifying thing was that she didn’t
scream or whimper. She thrashed, her lips pressed tightly,
refusing a sound to pass through her lips.
And I couldn’t do anything to help her. To chase them all
away. To kill the ghosts as I killed those men.
“I did,” I admitted, brushing my finger over her soft lips.
“Callahan said you had a birthmark, a butterfly, and
somehow it stuck.”
“It is the reason I avoid wearing open back dresses,” she
admitted with a smile.
“Don’t hide it,” I told her. “I love it. Every inch of you.”
The birthmark was the most peculiar one I had ever seen.
I opened the door to my car and walked around to open
the door for her. I took my hand to help her out and headed
for the stairs. As we walked up the stairs, we held hands,
neither one of us willing to let go.
“Hunter?” I squeezed her hand in comfort, feeling a
slight tremble.
“Yes?”
“I remembered something last night.” I glanced at her
as we climbed stairs to our floor. “Were we ever in a
helicopter together?” She tucked a long strand of her red
hair behind her ear with her free hand, her eyes searching
my face.
I never paused my step. “Yes, when I got you, we left via
helicopter.”
“And you asked me to see my birthmark?”
Her memory was slowly but surely coming back. “Yes.”
“Why?”
We kept climbing the stairs. I wasn’t worried about
running into anyone, since nobody but the two of us had
access to this staircase.
“Callahan told me about it, to make sure I checked for
it,” I told her. “He wasn’t sure what state you’d be in. When
I found you, I was-” I paused, unsure how much to say
without revealing too much. “I got sidetracked. I was
furious to see you so hurt and forgot to check for the
birthmark.” It was the only time it had ever happened to
me.
“Where was I?” I knew she was eager to just put it all
together and start her healing process.
“Don’t force it, Vita Mia,” I told her. “Trust me on this.”
We were on my floor now and I led her to the door. “I’m
going to program your fingerprints to the door so you can
go in and out as you want.”
I quickly programmed her fingerprints in and the door
clicked open.
“I’ll show you around.” Last night and this morning, we
pretty much saw the bedroom, bathroom, and the hallway. I
gave her a tour of the place, her eyes soaking it all in.
“I thought I loved my apartment, but this is even better,”
she breathed out. “Like a whole house in a building.”
“If you want to change anything, feel free.” She nodded
but didn’t say anything. She was uncharacteristically quiet.
“No regrets, I hope.”
Her head whipped my way. “No, none.”
“What’s the matter?” Something was bothering her, and
I wanted to know what. I wanted it to come naturally to
both of us - to confide in each other.
She exhaled deeply, her hands wrapping around my
waist. She was much shorter than my six foot three, but she
fit me perfectly.
“Promise you won’t laugh,” she muttered.
“I promise.”
“These memories, I worry they’ll break me.” Her voice
was low and soft, her face buried in my chest, and fuck, my
heart hurt. Because she hurt. “Maybe I am not supposed to
remember.” She cleared her throat uncomfortably.
I took her chin between my fingers and made her look at
me. I suspected she didn’t do physical touch because of the
trauma she underwent. Except she couldn’t remember it.
“Tell me,” I demanded in a soft voice.
“Before I ran into you, I couldn’t stand a man’s touch. I
felt broken. Just broken, and now, I-” She wanted to look
away but I wouldn’t let her. No hiding from each other. “I
finally feel normal, and I worry if those memories come
back, my mind would go to hell in a handbasket.”
I lowered my head and pressed my lips to her forehead.
I wished I could take it all away and make her see herself
the way I did. Strong, beautiful, and kind.
“You are not broken,” I told her with conviction. “You
are strong. You were strong when I met you eleven years
ago and you still are.” Her breath came out in a rush, as if
she was holding it. “When Callahan came to me, I was lost.
I fought my father, hated him, but I hated myself even
more. Because I deemed myself worthless.” She blinked
her eyes in confusion, and I forced myself to explain. “My
mother’s last words were left on a blood stained piece of
paper. She told me to be a worthy man. Worthy of a
woman’s love. But with each year, I saw more and more of
my father in me. I hated him for it, but I hated myself even
more.”
Her palm came up to my cheek. Would she do it once
she remembered it all?
“You are a good man, Hunter,” she murmured softly.
“I am a killer, Butterfly. I have been for a long time. It
leaves a mark on the soul. I fought my father before the
mission I took for Callahan, but it was you that gave me
purpose.” Her eyes reflected confusion. “When I found you,
something in me shifted. I found a purpose… my purpose…
to stop all men that used vulnerable women, girls, boys,
anyone. And it was you that kicked it all off.”
 She was mine and I was hers. Eleven years ago, I might
have saved her, but she also saved me. She set the course
that my friends and I have been on for the past decade,
rescuing women from the vicious trafficking business.
I never thought we’d see each other again, that she’d be
my catalyst for a new life I desperately wanted. Two years
ago, she made something inside of me restart. A dance and
tentative kiss made my entire world fade and leave her in
the center of my universe.
She was my woman. I’d have a family with her. Children.
Happy life. All. I simply wanted it all with her.
“You know what you asked me eleven years ago before
Luca and I left?”
Our eyes locked and she shook her head.
“You asked me to kill them all. And I fucking did.” Her
mouth parted. “All except one,” I added.
Realization flashed on her face.
“Except for Marco,” she whispered in a low voice.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Thirty-Five

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

I t wasn’t exactly the subject for our wedding night.

But here we were, and it seemed to help to settle her
worry. She wasn’t broken, far from it. She was strong and
resilient.
“I’m going to take a quick shower. Is that okay?”
I nodded. “I’m going to get some work done. I’ll be in my
office.”
An hour later, I heard her clunking around the kitchen,
but I remained at my desk. She knew where I was, and I
wanted her to get used to the space here. She brought a
few of her things up but all her stuff was still downstairs.
There was no need to rush her. All that mattered was that
she was here, with me.
A knock came at the door and I raised my eyes to find
her head poking through the open door.
Her hair was wet, the unique smell that I associated only
with her drifting through the air. She wore a bathrobe, one
of mine, that pretty much swallowed her small frame. Yet, it
felt right seeing her in it.
She cleared her throat and her cheeks turned light red.
“Are you hungry for dinner?”
I grinned. “You are joking, right?”
 She chuckled. “Yeah. That pizza was too much. Ummm, I
made a fruit platter.” She flushed deep red, spreading down
her neck, chest and disappearing into the robe. I eyed her,
curious why she was blushing. “Want to do a movie and
fruit?”
“Sure.” I stood up and reached her in three big strides.
The moment we entered the living room, I realized why
she was blushing. The fruit platter was full of pineapples,
strawberries, blackberries, and more pineapples.
Pineapples. Our encounter in Vegas.
Both of us sat down on the couch, I reached for the fresh
pineapple with my fork and raised it to her soft mouth.
“Open,” I ordered. Her ocean blue eyes met mine and
without hesitation, she obeyed. Her lips closed over the
fork and my cock hardened. Jesus, even a simple innocent
act like this had me losing my mind with this woman.
She chewed the fruit and swallowed. “I remember you
don’t like sharing silverware,” I drawled. “This can be your
fork.”
She chuckled. “Do you remember everything?”
“Only when it comes to you.”
“More pineapple?” I asked her, hunger in my eyes.
She nodded and I offered another forkful. After she was
done chewing, she gave me a side glance, and I knew the
next thing out of her mouth would be a smartass comment
even before it came. “You haven’t had any pineapple,” she
murmured teasingly.
Desire flared in her eyes and she gulped softly.
I didn’t miss a beat. I raised a forkful of pineapple and
bit into it. Truthfully, I didn’t care for pineapple, but if she
wanted me to eat them in truck loads, I would.
She reached for another forkful of pineapple, but I
stopped her. Instead, I fed it to her and she obediently took
it. It was sexy as fuck. She was independent and strong, yet
she obeyed me without question.
 We lasted three minutes before we rushed into the
bedroom. My hand fisted into her hair and my mouth
crashed down on her soft, ruby lips. She tasted just as
sweet as always. As I devoured her, I knew this woman
would be the death of my self-control.
But none of it mattered because she would be worth a
thousand pains. Her curves fit my palms, like God created
her just for me. Two years of watching her, craving her and
it had all come down to this.
It was all worth it. For her, I’d wait lifetimes.
Áine’s arms wrapped around my neck, her soft curves
pliant against me. I pushed her against the wall and
tightened my grip on her hair, angling her head so I could
penetrate her mouth deeper. I needed all of her, to taste
every inch of her sweet mouth.
Our kiss wasn’t sweet. It was hard, demanding,
possessive, and desperate. Years of pent-up need caught up
to both of us. My brain warned me to go slow, but I was too
far gone. Her little moans vibrated through me and straight
to my cock.
I pinched her nipple through her robe and her back
arched into me. “That’s right baby,” I rasped against my
mouth. “Show me what you want.”
“More.” One word. A demand that I would definitely
satisfy.
I hooked her legs around my waist and carried her to
our bed.
Our bed. It sounded so damn right.
Placing her on it, her red hair spread across my pillow, I
wanted nothing more than to bury myself inside her so
deep. Her face was flushed with arousal and her ocean
gaze hungry on me.
“Take off the robe,” I ordered, taking a small step back. I
didn’t trust myself not to pounce on her.
She sat back up, then knelt on the bed, and in an
agonizingly slow move discarded the robe. I hungrily
watched her body, and it took all my self-control not to
reach out and touch her. Feel her soft skin under my rough
palms.
Jesus fucking Christ. She was Aphrodite in the flesh. My
grandfather insisted on taking me to church whenever I
stayed with him. I obliged but couldn’t quite find the
religion. Yet now, looking at her, I found it.
“Panties.”
Without a question, she got rid of her panties and
resumed her kneeling position. I grabbed a chair and sat
myself on it. Every time I touched her before, it was
rushed; the lights dimmed. Our bodies hungry for each
other. This time, I intended to savor it. Nice and long.
“Be a good girl and spread your thighs for me,” I
ordered. “Let me see what is mine.”
She gasped, but I could smell her arousal. So fucking
sweet. So fucking mine.
Her mouth parted, our gazes connected and her eyes
glimmered with desire as she obeyed. Áine was fiercely
independent, but as I watched her follow my command, she
brought me to my knees. She was my heart. My everything.
“You are soaked,” I groaned. My eyes feasted on her
naked body like I was starved. I’d never get enough of her.
A small shiver rippled through her body. “Y-yes,” she
panted.
My eyes traveled over her slim legs, over her narrow
waist, and caressed every inch of her with my eyes. My
gaze dragged from her full breasts to her face. A deep
blush bloomed on her face and across her body.
Fuck, I gritted my teeth, I am rock hard.
“Touch yourself,” I rasped my demand. “Like you did
when we talked on the phone.”
A soft moan slipped past her lips but she didn’t hesitate.
Áine’s one hand caressed her breasts, squeezing and
pinching her nipple, while her other hand slid between her
legs. Her eyes remained locked on me as she rubbed her
clit.
I couldn’t take my gaze off her, devouring every move,
every whimper she made as she fingered her pussy. I
wanted to know exactly what she liked, make her crave me
as I craved her. Her breaths turned shallow, her mouth
open and her eyes hazed with lust.
Mine.
The word seared into my brain, my heart and my soul.
My fists clenched at the thought of anyone seeing her or
touching her.
“Who are you thinking of?” I asked in a smooth tone.
“You.” Fucking right!
Her arousal fragranced the air and I was getting high on
it. The slick sounds of her fingers sliding in and out of her
pussy echoed through the room. She was close. I could tell
by her deepened flush, her hazed look, and her mouth
slightly agape.
“Are you thinking about my hard cock inside your tight
cunt? Or are you thinking about me tongue fucking that
tasty little pussy until you come all over my face?”
Still on her knees, her thighs trembled, a soft whimper
left her lips and her fingers worked faster at my filthy
questions. Her eyes fluttered, an expression of bliss on her
face.
I couldn’t stay away anymore. I stalked to the bed and
grasped her chin in my hand, forcing her to look at me.
“Answer. Me.”
“Both,” she gasped. “I want your mouth on me and then
I want you filling me with your cock.”
Fuck.
I gripped her wrist and forced her to stop fingering
herself.
“Hunter,” she protested on a soft whine. “Please.”
“Have you thought about me since Vegas?” I growled,
her eyes hazed with lust. She whimpered in protest. “Tell
me,” I demanded.
“Yes,” she panted. “All the time.”
I pushed her down on the bed, pulling my tie off in one
swift move, then pinning her wrists above her head and
tying them together.
“W-what are you doing?” A flash of fear entered her eyes
and something clenched inside my chest.
I lowered my head and stopped an inch from her mouth.
My lips brushed against hers as I said, “I want to pleasure
you until you beg me to stop.” Pressing a soft kiss on her
lips. “Want me to untie you?”
A mixture of trepidation and anticipation filled her face.
She shook her head in answer, and I captured her mouth in
another deep kiss. Then I trailed my mouth across her
cheek.
“My brave woman,” I murmured against her soft skin.
Her strength made me want to pound my chest in pride. “If
you want me to stop at any time,” I rasped against her ear.
“Just tell me and I will.”
I moved my way down her neck, tasting her skin,
nipping and leaving marks. I wanted to mark her so the
entire world knew she was mine. When I reached her
breasts, I sucked on her nipples, then gently bit it and a
loud moan slipped past her lips.
“Hunter,” she begged. “I need… I need…”
Her back arched off the bed, her wrists tugging on the
binding.
“Tell me,” I groaned. “Tell me what you need and it’s
yours.”
I tugged on her nipple with my teeth while I pushed one
finger inside her. Sweet Jesus, she is tight. Tight and
drenched.
I kissed my way down her soft stomach, tasting her skin
as I pushed my finger deeper inside her before pulling it
out, then thrust again.
“Butterfly, tell me what you need.”
 “Please,” she moaned. “I need to come.”
I lifted my head and those gorgeous blue eyes shone
with unadulterated desire. It was the most beautiful thing I
had ever seen.
“You will,” I promised, lowering my head and inhaling
deeply. Her sweet smell was addictive. I gently scraped my
teeth over her clit, then sucked on it and Áine bucked. I
lapped at her juices as she ground against my face, her
movements jerky and frantic.
“Please, please,” she chanted. “Oh my fucking God.
Yes!”
Her pleading whines grew louder and her movements
desperate as I continued fingering her. I pressed my thumb
against her clit and curled my finger inside her hitting her
spot.
“Come for me,” I demanded in a hoarse voice.
A sharp cry left her mouth and her body arched off the
bed, trembling underneath me. The sight of her orgasming
was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
The bulge in my pants was so hard, it fucking hurt. I
untied her and rubbed her wrists softly with my rough
palms. She lay sated and relaxed on the bed. I wanted to
bury myself inside her and fuck her into oblivion. Turned
out, my grandfather’s preaching stuck deeper than I
thought. Our wedding night made this lovemaking, not
fucking.
“Hunter,” she called out softly. “I-I want you to-”
Her voice wavered. God, she couldn’t know how bad I
wanted her. My cock was marble hard.
My hand gripped her nape and I pulled her closer to me.
“I want to bury myself into your tight cunt,” I groaned. An
attractive blush colored her cheeks. “But first I’m going to
worship you.”
I took her mouth harshly, losing all my senses in her
sweetness. This woman robbed me of everything - my
control, my reason, my harshness.
 Her lips trailed against my cheek, her nails sunk into my
skin. I sucked in a breath, teetering on the edge of self-
control. Her hunger for me fed my own.
I needed her desperately.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Thirty-Six

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

I fell asleep with my head against his chest, listening

to his heartbeat and his fingers caressing my back.
With each strong heartbeat, I fell deeper and deeper into
dreams where I felt nothing but him.
And the memories buried in the fog.
“Just say a word and her torture ends.” I’ve come to
hate his taunting voice. His menacing grimace. His
menacing cruelty. I had never hated, yet what I felt since
these men had taken me was pure hate. Fire burned in my
lungs, wrath choked me. “Just.” Thrust. “One.” Thrust.
“Word.”
My body shook. The school uniform I wore when I was
kidnapped was filthy. Blood stains. Dirt. Fluids. This sick
man liked to smear his cum all over my clothes after he was
done with them.
Them. The women. The poor souls. If only I wasn’t such
a coward. I should save them. Say the word.
Bile in my throat mixed with rage, and rubbed my throat
raw. So raw that I tasted blood.
I hated men. They were filthy, disgusting animals. My
whole body ached, my eyes burned, but I couldn’t feel the
tears anymore.
 Only blood. In my nostrils. In my mouth. On my tongue.
Pulsing in my brain.
“D-don’t c-cry.” The woman’s whimpered, broken up
whisper pierced through the fog of hate. Her body jerked
with each grunt and thrust, as my body shook like a leaf in
the wind. I didn't realize I was crying. There had been so
much of it; it became natural, like breathing. Her black hair
dragged over the dirty floor, her one cheek I could see was
swollen, a purple bruise and an ugly gash. “I-it’s,” her body
jerked with each rough pound, “... okay.”
It wasn’t okay. None of this was. It wasn’t okay he was
punishing them to get a word out of me. This sick bastard,
Marco motherfucking King, wanted a single word to slip
through my lips so he could bypass the older guy. I
assumed it was his father who ordered him not to touch
me.
'You can't break her in,' were the old man's exact words.
‘Not unless she gives you a word. That one is a hard
headed mule.’
Suddenly the movements stopped and my eyes snapped
up just in time to see his hand fly through the air and slap
the woman. Hard. No, not slap. Punch her. He punched her
so hard I thought I heard a bone crack.
“Did I give you permission to talk?” he bellowed like a
lunatic. Another punch followed and I flinched. I didn’t
want to see more of this. Of the despicable torture these
man put those weaker than them through. It wasn't fair; it
wasn’t right. They should suffer.
I opened my mouth to stop him from landing another
punch when pounding on the door stopped him. And me
from saying the word.
“I said nobody is to bother us,” he screamed like a
lunatic.
“Amir says your helicopter is here,” a deep man’s voice
sounded. “With your father.”
 I barely blinked and Marco was pulling up his pants and
striding towards the door. But not before he slapped me
hard across the face.
“Stupid bitch,” he hissed. “I wonder if maybe you are
mute and stupid.”
He disappeared through the door, and I rushed towards
the woman. I didn’t know what I was doing, how to help
her. I lifted her upper body up, my eyes darting to her
open, exposed thighs.
A shuddered breath escaped me as I saw blood there.
Blood and mixture of disgusting fluid by those men. Her
thighs were bruised too. There were four before Marco
King. I had to watch them all.
A wretched sob escaped me, and I buried my head into
the woman’s hair. It smelled awful, but it was better than
everything else here. I should help her, take care of her,
and yet all I felt were sobs shaking my body.
We’d never get out of here.
“It’s okay,” a firm voice came through the fog.
“He’ll be back,” I rasped. My lips felt dry and cracked,
just like they were all those years ago and each beat of my
heart hurt my chest. I inhaled deeply, expecting the stench
of blood and dirt in my lungs. Instead, the scent of the
ocean and deep woods invaded my lungs.
“And I’ll be here.” The deep, calming voice assured me.
“We’ll get him.” Sleep pulled me deeper, my breathing
slowing down. “Together.” The last word was whispered so
low, I wasn’t sure whether I dreamt it or not.

I heard the voices in the distance . F amiliar voices . S mell

of coffee. Shuffling of paper. Warmth on my face. Scent of
the man that made my chest glow.
 My eyes slowly came open and my hand sprawled to the
right of me. Empty bed. Turning my head to the right, it
was as if I didn’t trust my senses. But yes, the bed was
empty. My eyes darted to the clock on the nightstand. It
was past eight o’clock. I couldn’t remember the last time I
slept in so late.
I yawned and stretched, mentally going through my
work schedule. I had my first meeting at ten. It gave me
enough time to get showered and ready. But first… coffee.
Walking over to the dresser, I searched for something to
wear and found Hunter’s button down shirt. All my clothes
were still in my apartment downstairs so I’d just have to
make do with this for now. After I brushed my teeth and
washed my face, I went in search of coffee. I would need it
today for sure. My bare feet were silent against the plush
rug.
I peeked from room to room, unsure where I’d find
Hunter. I was certain someone else was here. The question
was who. My eyes glanced at my left hand and my heart
fluttered. My wedding band was still there.
Mrs. Áine King.
It came with complications. The biggest one being his
half-brother and his human trafficking. The longer I went
without Dr. Taylor, the more I remembered. And
surprisingly, it didn’t shatter me.
We’ll get him. Together.
I was certain under the light of a new, bright day that I
heard Hunter say that. I believed him. I couldn’t remember
everything but just broken pieces of his rescue. His hand, a
few words. He saved me from Marco King, and now we’d
kill him. Together.
I peeked into another room, which I knew Hunter used
for his office. It was empty. I really loved this room. It faced
the south side and one whole one wall was floor to ceiling
windows that overlooked the city skyline. I couldn’t resist
walking in, nearing the window. As I stood there, the sun
warmed me through the windows.
Spring was here. The season always made me feel
hopeful. More time outdoors, more sunshine, more of
something that felt good. And this time around with Hunter,
the feeling was even stronger.
A beep had me turning towards the desk. It was neat,
nothing on it but a single laptop. Curious to know what
caused the beep, I sat in his chair and glanced at the open
screen, surprised to see it unlocked.
But then, Hunter probably wasn’t expecting anyone in
his office.
My eyes skimmed over the words, and with each word
read, my heart sped up another notch. The email was from
Nico Morrelli, Bianca’s husband. I swallowed the knot in
my throat, the words dancing across the screen.

M arco is on the move . T hey tried to get B ianca when she

was on her way to the women’s shelter with Gia. Everyone
is good, except for the fuckers that tried to take my family.
Belles auction is set to happen in the next few days
according to the one we captured. No information on the
place or exact time. Though all the hints lead me to believe
it will happen within the next week, in Turkey. One piece of
information has been confirmed over and over again.
Marco will host the auction personally.
Keep a close eye on Áine. Marco has offered a special
prize for anyone that brings her in. Chad Stewart is funding
it. The sick bastard prefers his women compliant and limp,
his exact words.
Luciano moved his family to the shelter.
M y eyes darted across the screen again , my stomach
roiling at the images with Marco and Chad. I knew from
Cassio’s initial report that Marco worked with Chad. Yet, it
was so hard for me to believe that I missed it. He even
fooled Callahan. Fucking Chad, the state’s attorney who
was supposed to stand up for innocent and seek justice. No
wonder Hunter fucking hated his guts. Hunter must have
known all along.
As if I was watching a movie in slow motion, my mind
formed a plan.
I stood up, ensuring the chair was left in the exact same
position I found it in. I wouldn’t put it past my husband to
notice every little discrepancy. I snuck out of the room and
headed for the large kitchen next. Low voices drifted from
it and it was exactly where I found my husband.
The second I stepped into the kitchen, the talk stopped.
My husband and Luca sat at the table, looking fresh and
ready for another day. Both their eyes were glued to
Hunter’s phone. It looked like they were studying a map.
“Morning.” Hunter’s deep voice warmed me from the
inside.
“Morning,” I mumbled, my voice still a bit morning
raspy. He reached out for my hand and pulled me over to
him. I landed on his lap. “Is that my coffee?” I asked,
eyeing the third cup next to Hunter’s.
“It is, and still warm. I heard you walking around so I
just got it ready.”
Yep, I was a total mush for my husband.
I took the mug with both of my hands. “Thank you,” I
murmured against the mug as I took a sip, the warm liquid
sneaking down my throat. “I have to go to work.”
“You can work from home.” Hunter’s immediate reply
didn’t surprise me.
“I haven’t been in the office for the past three days.”
“Don’t worry, sister-in-law,” Luca chimed in, completely
at ease with me. “You’re the boss now.”
 I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m not. But I guess it is good to
have friends in high places,” I added dryly. “However,
regardless that Cassio owns the company, I cannot just
ditch going into my office,” I resolved.
“Yes, you can.” Hunter’s voice was low in my ear, his
hand squeezing my thigh. “It’s our honeymoon.”
He got me there. “I have a meeting I cannot miss,” I told
him. “Just because I’m sleeping with the boss doesn’t give
me a break from my responsibilities.”
He gently squeezed my thigh. “It’s your company. I only
bought it because you worked there. And Nico will be
happy if you are running it.” He pretended to be distressed
while his eyes twinkled with amusement. “He says my
questions are stupid and not even worth his time to bill
me.”
I feigned an insult on his behalf. “I will have to deal with
him. Can’t he appreciate your mobster skills?”
His booming laugh, low and raspy, had my lips curving
into a grin. God, I loved hearing him laugh. I snuggled
closer to him, his hand warming my inner thigh.
“Work from home today.” Hunter didn’t get sidetracked
easily. I had no doubt it was because of the suspicious
attack on Bianca. It made me wonder exactly what she
went through for her husband. He must have anticipated
the attack and luckily had tight security on his family. And
the belles arrangement, what kind of bullshit was that?
“Well, at least you don’t mind the mobster skills,” Luca
grumbled, stirring my thoughts back to the present,
unaware of Hunter’s hand on my thigh, inching closer and
closer to my sweet spot.
I glared at my husband, warning him not to start that
now. Not with his brother at the kitchen table and he
chuckled, deep and soft. His laugh did something to my
insides, made me melt or glow. Something.
“Why would I mind?” I questioned Luca. “It would be
hypocritical considering who Callahan is.”
 Luca grumbled something about family minding it and
then got back to his phone and the world map.
“You guys checking out the world map?” I asked, swiftly
switching the subject. “Or do you have information on the
next event your half-brother is conjuring?”
Both their eyes, so similar in color and shape, snapped
to me.
“Do you have information?” Luca questioned me.
“On who?” I asked innocently.
“Who are you talking about, wife?” Hunter asked.
I raised my eyebrow. “And who are you talking about,
Cassio?”
A crease showed up between his eyebrows. He really
didn’t like me calling him Cassio. I sort of decided I would
call him Cassio in public and Hunter when we were alone.
Though, my husband didn’t seem thrilled with it.
When he didn’t answer, I blew lightly into my coffee, the
steam coming off of it swirling in the air. There was one
thing my husband would have to learn. He couldn’t protect
me by not sharing information with me.
“Did you know Chad had a place in upstate New York?” I
murmured seemingly offhand. “Under his stepsister’s
name.”
“He does?” Luca bit right away.
“Yeah. Everyone thinks it belongs to her but it is his.” I
blew another air into my coffee. “She owed him a favor, so
she allowed him to use her name to get it. There are only
three people that know about it. Well, five now.”
“How do you know?” Hunter’s voice was slightly
suspicious.
I shrugged. “He invited me up there once, so I looked
into it. He didn’t say he owned it, but he is the only one
that goes there.” Chad let it slip a while back that he paid
for it. I found it odd that it was in his sister’s name, but if
he needed a place to hide, it made sense. “Chad’s money
was used to purchase it.”
 I pretended not to see the glance those two shared.
They’d hunt the crooked attorney. I’d hunt their half-
brother.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Thirty-Seven

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

I felt slightly guilty at asking Áine to remain at home

while I intended to go to upstate New York. But not
enough to tell her why. The nightmares she had didn’t need
to continue during the daytime. We had Chad's location and
soon we'd have the location to Marco. After all, if Chad was
participating in the agreement, he would have received the
invitation.
“I need to swing by my place to get my clothes, and I
have some work to do.” With a coffee mug in her hands, she
walked towards the window, watching the city. The sunlight
coming through the windows hit just right, highlighting the
different shades of dark merlot, bright scarlet, and those
tones in her hair that glowed between the two. She seemed
too accepting of staying and working from home and
something nagged at me, but I didn’t want to question her.
There would have to be trust between us and starting it by
being suspicious at her easy surrender wasn’t the way to
kickstart our marriage.
I watched her slim fingers with the wedding band
wrapped around the mug.
“Good thing it is only downstairs,” Luca commented.
She smiled. “Totally convenient.” Her eyes shifted back
to me. “I’m going to have Margaret come and keep me
company if that’s okay.” I cocked my eyebrow. Áine wasn’t
the type to ask permission. She must have realized the
same because she quickly added, “I’m sure you have
security all around. I just don’t want them to give her a
hard time.”
I nodded. “I’ll tell my men.”
“Where are they anyhow?” she asked, blowing the steam
off her coffee, gazing out the window. She looked at home
in my place, with my shirt on her.
“You’re safe here,” I told her. “I have men in the garage,
our private entrance, and on the roof.”
Her blue eyes glanced my way, a smile on her face. Why
did I just feel tricked? “That’s good. Just tell them to make
sure Margaret can come and go safely.”
An hour later, I left Áine in her apartment.
“Stay here until I’m back,” I instructed.
She arched her perfect eyebrow. “Where else would I
be, Cassio?”
I should have known better.

W e found the house .

Sure as shit, it looked like someone was staying here.
Hiding was more likely. Alessio met us ten miles out. He
was closer to Upstate New York since he lived in Canada.
He ruled the Canadian East Coast. Though sometimes I
wondered if he’d stay in the business. The only reason he’d
ever get out was for a woman. A very specific woman that
happened to fight everything we did - drug smuggling,
arms dealing, and of course, human trafficking which we
didn’t do.
The three of us took our spots in the thick coverage of
pines, at the edge of the woods about twenty feet from the
home. A picturesque, white farmhouse sat in the middle of
the lawn, overlooking a lake.
“Charming little place,” Alessio muttered. “His
retirement home?”
“The fucked up state’s attorney continues his ‘I’m
normal’ ruse,” Luca snickered.
I spotted a barn in the back that looked connected to the
house.
“Luca, do a scan and see if there is a way to enter the
house from that barn,” I told him in a hushed tone.
Luca was on it before I finished the statement. Going
through the front door would leave us too open. Barn
seemed a much more viable option.
“There is a doorway from the barn into the house,” Luca
finally announced, his eyes scanning his phone screen.
Without another word or delay, we quietly moved towards
it. We stuck to the shadows of the trees. Once we were by
it, I pressed gently against the door, and with a low squeal,
it opened.
The barn was being used as a garage. Bingo! One car.
Registered to the one and only New York City State’s
Attorney, Chad Stewart.
Boo, motherfucker!
We slipped through the side door into the barn and
entered a hallway. It was midday but this side of the house
had no windows so daylight didn’t come through. We had to
let our eyes adjust.
The creak of a floorboard upstairs drew my attention.
Sharing a glance with Luca and Alessio, we decided to split
up. Luca and Alessio downstairs, while I made my way to
the side staircase. I kept my steps light and silent. You
never knew with old homes which damn floorboard would
make a sound.
Squeak. Like fucking now.
I paused my step, waiting for any signs that I was
discovered. More shuffling upstairs, the movement
unperturbed, which told me I wasn’t heard. Knowing Chad
Steward, the fucker thought he was untouchable here.
The sound of the water filled the silence and the old
pipes in the house clanked as it was forced through them.
He must be getting in the shower. How lovely, I get to see
him butt-ass naked. I waited another second, then
continued making my way up. He wouldn’t be able to hear
a thing with the shower on.
I reached the top of the stairs and waited. Patience was,
after all, my virtue. I waited a long time for Áine, five
minutes for this sick fucker wouldn’t make a difference. As
his shower ended, I waited silently against the wall outside
the room. In my position, he wouldn’t see me when he
came out, and I could slice his neck in one swift move.
But I had other plans. Questions that needed answers.
Just as he walked through the door with a towel around
his waist, my hand reached out swiftly, the blade of my
knife pressed against his throat.
“Don’t move, motherfucker,” I hissed in a low voice. His
head jerked backwards, and I shoved my elbow into his
back, making him fall onto his knees. The thump of his
knees against the wood flooring echoed through the old
house. “Which part of don’t move don’t you understand?”
He instantly stilled. Slow learner that one. Not sure how
in the hell he became the distinguished state’s attorney. I
could hear Luca’s and Alessio’s boots behind me, rushing
up the stairs. They’d probably fall through the damn wood
with their big frames.
“P-please, don’t hurt me.” His voice was full of terror. I
felt no pity for him, only rage knowing what his plans for
Áine were. My wife.
“Don’t worry,” I said quietly, eerily. “We won’t give you
the same fate you planned for my wife.”
His head whipped back and he paled when he saw me,
his eyes wide with terror. A flicker of recognition flashed in
his dilated pupils. His nostrils flared but he quickly got
himself together.
Luca and Alessio joined us.
“Tie him up, Luca,” I ordered my little brother.
“Fucking bullshit,” Luca spat out. “Why couldn’t you
wait until the fucker at least put some clothes on?”
I could see it in Chad’s eyes before he even moved. He
launched at me, probably hoping to tackle me to the floor.
My knife slammed into his shoulder and a bloodcurdling
scream erupted from him, as the towel slid off his hips,
leaving him naked as the day he was born. How convenient,
he would die naked too!
“Try something stupid one more time,” I hissed, twisting
the blade buried in his shoulder, “and I’ll listen to your
screams all night.”
I ripped the knife out and he planted into the wall
behind me, his face hitting the picture frame.
“Okay, barefoot princess,” Luca grabbed him by his hair.
“Let’s tie you up. Touch me with that dick, and it will be the
first thing I slice off you.”
Luca sat him in the wooden chair. The fear wafting from
him was almost tangible. His body was rigid as Alessio held
him at gunpoint. Pulling the wire from his back pocket,
Luca tied-twisted it around his feet, before moving up to his
wrist and then mid-torso. The wire cut into his skin as he
whimpered each time Luca pulled it a bit tighter. I reveled
in the sounds he made. I'd make sure he'd never hurt
another woman. I could only imagine the number of women
Marco had gifted him since their agreement had been
made. The number of women he'd hurt, fucked, used and
abused before discarding them like trash. This wasn't just
for Áine, it was for all of them.
“You can dish it but can’t take it, huh?” I taunted
menacingly. This was what our father raised us to do,
torture to extract information and then dispose of the body,
never to be found again.
I was putting my skills to good use.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Thirty-Eight

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

T he doorbell had me running to answer it. The

second I opened it, I noted two of Cassio’s men, one
on the left side and other on the right guarding the exits of
the public hallway. Margaret stood there in her loud pink
raincoat, though the skies were clear. Who in the hell knew
why she wore a raincoat! Maybe the weather called for rain
later.
I quickly pulled Margaret inside and shut the door.
“That happy to see me, huh?” she teased.
“Thrilled,” I retorted, hugging her tightly. “I need your
help.”
No sense in wasting time. The more headway I got, the
better I was.
Her gaze met mine. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need you to stay here,” I told her. “Make a little noise,
move around, pretend we are talking.”
She eyed me like I was crazy. “We are talking.”
“I have to leave,” I retorted dryly in a hushed tone. “I
read Cassio’s email from Nico. Marco’s men are looking for
me. Remember the belles arrangement that Bianca
mentioned?” She nodded. “Nico thinks the auction will
happen within the next week. In Turkey. So no more
hunting. I’ll let him catch me.”
 One breath. Two breaths.
“Are you fucking nuts?” she hissed, her eyes darting
around like there was someone lurking in the corner.
“No, I’m not. But I know Cassio has a tracker on my
wedding band,” I told her, showing her my wedding band.
“How do you know?” She eyed my wedding band. There
was nothing unusual about it, not even a diamond. Hunter
knew I wanted a plain wedding band and he delivered,
though he omitted the information on the tracker. But in his
defense, all the plans kind of spiraled.
I slid it off my finger and pointed to the inner band. “It’s
right in there.”
“Aren’t you pissed off at him?” she questioned me, her
eyes eyeing the band. “I’d fucking kill him.”
I shrugged. “No, I’m not mad at him. He just wants to
keep me safe.” Like he always had. “Anyhow, he can track
me. He and Luca will probably be back soon. If he notices I
am on the move, he’ll come after me even sooner. Until
then, I won’t be alone. John and the crew will be with me.
John has an approximate location for Marco.”
“I don’t like this plan,” she muttered begrudgingly. “If
something happens, it will be my head. And I’m already on
the shit list.”
“Nothing will happen,” I assured her, something I had no
business promising. “But I can’t be a sitting duck.”
I strode into my spare bedroom, Maggie behind me. I
had no time to waste. In a rush, I changed into my combat
clothes. Black tight pants, black shirt, knife holster, gun
holster, combat boots.
“I don’t know, Áine,” Margaret tried again. “This sounds
reckless.”
“They tried to get Bianca,” I told her in a low voice.
“Other women too, I am sure. If they want me, let them
come and get me. They won’t expect me. I’m stronger than
I was before.”
 Her eyebrow scrunched and I silently cursed myself. I
slipped. “What do you mean?” she inquired. “You make it
sound like you have been captured before.”
Fuck. I didn’t need this slip up now. “I’ll explain later,” I
promised. “I have no time to waste right now.”
She pushed her hand through her hair. “I know I won’t
be able to dissuade you. When you get like this, you just
plow through.”
I smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you.”
“Well, I owe you since you married Cassio King because
of me,” she grunted, rolling her eyes.
I chuckled. “I like him,” I admitted with a smile. “A lot.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Like in love like him?”
In love. Yes, I loved him. It has been a whirlwind, and I
never truly thought that deep into it. If this wasn’t love, it
felt peculiarly close to it. Something about the way he
cared, how my heart and body felt safe and at ease around
him. Maybe I loved him for a long time, I just never
recognized it. Either way, I was Hunter’s. Always and
forever.
“Yeah,” I grinned. “Like in love with him.”
I just had to survive this shitstorm and then we’d focus
on each other.
“Whoa, I didn’t see that one coming,” she murmured.
“How do you know?”
I shrugged. “He makes me feel safe, protected. I feel
more at ease with him than anyone else. And I feel like he
understands me. Like really understands me.”
“He isn’t pierced, right?” The question came out of
nowhere and I blinked in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Ummm, down there,” she mumbled. “Is he pierced
down there?” When I just continued staring, she continued.
“Is his dick pierced, Áine? Why do you make me spell it
out?”
A strangled laugh escaped me. “No, it’s not. Why?”
 “Oh, no matter.”
I shook my head in disbelief. I’d question her about it,
but I didn’t have time for it now. “We’ll talk about it when I
get back,” I told her, my curiosity peaked. Who wouldn’t be
curious about a pierced dick?
“Okay, so how will you sneak out?” she asked.
Cassio didn’t have anyone watching those stairs, not
until the garage. I pulled up my phone and sent a short
message to John, asking for his status.
“I’ll take the private staircase,” I told her. “Then instead
of going through the garage, I’ll go through the lobby,
straight out the door, and into the car. John will be waiting
for me.”
She slipped her raincoat off and offered it. “Here, wear
this in case you run into any of the guards.”
I eyed it suspiciously. “I don’t have time to color my hair
black right now.”
Rolling her eyes, she chuckled. “Put the hood on. Your
hair is pulled up into a ponytail anyhow, so as long as you
keep it over your forehead, they’ll never know it is you.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. As I put it on, I couldn’t resist.
“Why did you wear a raincoat?” My eyes darted to the
windows still reflecting a bright sunny day.
“My mood was kind of rainy,” she muttered, her
shoulders slumping. “I don’t know. Somehow it felt like my
life as I knew it was over, and I needed something to cheer
me up.”
I frowned. “So you wore a raincoat?”
She shrugged. “The bright color makes me happy.”
“Oh.” Yeah, Margaret would be a moody pregnant
woman. I’d buy all the brightest cupcakes, clothes and
umbrellas in the city to keep her happy.
“Okay, enough about me,” she grinned, though it didn’t
quite reach her eyes. “You better be safe and watch your
back.” I nodded, pressing a kiss on her cheek.
“I will. I promise.” Another hug and I had to get going.
 As I slipped through the back door, I rushed down the
stairs, my heart thundering with every step, almost
expecting to run into Hunter at any moment. When I
reached the last landing, I took a deep breath, my hand
lingering on the doorknob. The main building lobby was
where I could run into someone. I pulled the hood further
over my forehead, just in case. I opened the door and
almost plowed straight into one of Cassio's guards.
Keeping my hood on, I diverted my eyes to the ground
and sidestepped him, rushing through the lobby and out
the door into the fresh air. John was already there waiting
in the car. Without delay, I strode towards it, opened the
door, and threw myself into the passenger seat.
“Go,” I breathed out.
Without a question, he shifted into a drive and sped
down the road. “Thanks for getting the crew together on
such short notice,” I broke the silence.
He flicked his eyes my way, then returned them onto the
road. “You’re the boss.”
If he looked at me, he would have caught me rolling my
eyes. “This is a team effort,” I muttered. “I don’t think of
The Rose Rescue as just mine. It is all of ours. We are all
doing it for one reason or another.”
I learned through the years that John lost his daughter
to human traffickers. One day, they snatched her on her
way home from school, never to be seen again. In every
rescue mission, he searched for her. He didn’t say it, but he
didn’t have to.
“Then I should warn you,” he said, his tone revealing
none of his thoughts. “The boys are not happy about your
plan.”
I wasn’t surprised to hear that, but they’d have to deal
with it. “The main thing is that you guys are not far behind.
We have been going after him for years and never got close
to him. This way, he can believe he got me.”
 Coming to a screeching halt, John pulled up into a
parking spot. Both of us got out of the car and ran through
the private gates of the airport. With a private jet there
were less security protocols and we were able to reach the
plane within ten minutes.
Pilot, a nickname for one of my crew members, was
waiting for us at the bottom of the plane, leaned against
the rails, looking every bit like an arrogant asshole.
Margaret and he hooked up a few years back and both
immediately realized their mistake. Working together and
sleeping together caused complications that neither one of
them wanted.
“Áine,” he greeted me. “Next time give us more notice. I
was in the middle of getting laid.”
“TMI,” I retorted dryly, and when he raised an eyebrow
in question, not understanding the reference, I added, “Too
much information.”
He just rolled his eyes. “Okay, let’s not waste a good day.
Off into the plane.”
“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath. The moment we
were inside, the hustling started. Pilot went straight into
his cabin, the rest of us taking our seats.
As I buckled myself into the seat before the takeoff, my
thoughts wandered to my husband. My guess would be that
he found Chad and would probably kill him. Maybe
something was wrong with me, but I hoped he’d make him
scream. Make him suffer, give him exactly what he planned
for me. I was sick and tired of men that thought they could
do whatever they wanted to women, to those weaker than
them.
I pushed the button on the table next to me that rang
directly into the pilot’s cabin.
“We are ready,” I announced.
“What do we have, John?” I asked him as the plane took
off.
 Turkey. My nightmare started in Turkey, and it would
seem my nightmare would end there too. Bits and pieces of
tapped memory kept trickling in, and I knew without a
doubt it was in Turkey where it all started. It was in Turkey
where I ran into Marco King.
“The information you gave helped me narrow it down to
Turkey,” he started. He was referring to the information I
got from Nico’s email. “There is a specific area in Turkey
that seems to have a lot of traffic. It is right by the
Armenian border.”
John was able to find a vague geographical area where
another one of Marco’s compounds were. We’d spend the
night in the nearest city and tomorrow head for the remote
part of this country, where people like Marco King flew
under the radar and shipped women like animals. Treated
them even worse.
The Armenia-Turkey border ran from Georgia in the
north to the tripoint with Azerbaijan in the south. Almost
two hundred miles of the border had been closed since
1993. But that didn’t stop smugglers and people like Marco
King.
The flight was long, or maybe it just seemed long
because it felt like a trip back to the past. The past that I
couldn’t quite remember in full but knew would hurt. I kept
glancing at my phone, almost expecting to see a message
from Hunter.
It never came.
When we landed in the private airport in Kars, it was
almost eight at night. The city situated by Kars River was
near the border with Armenia. Even as the dusk covered
the city, the charm of it couldn't be denied. Though the
dread of being so close to our final destination was
terrifying.
And it didn’t help that I missed Hunter. We’ve been
married barely a day and here I was on the other side of
the world. With an ocean between us, it felt like I hadn’t
seen my husband in way too long. Hours felt like days.
“I booked us a hotel,” John said. “It is late, and you look
like you’ll fall off your feet at any moment. Married life
must suit you.”
“Funny,” I grumbled. This wasn’t a normal kickstart to a
marriage. But this was important, and if I was right, I
believed Hunter would come after me. Maybe we could get
rid of Marco once and for all.
We arrived at a small, charming hotel with bright pink
colors at the outskirts of the city. The façade was charming
and the second we stepped out of the car, I soaked in the
view. The hotel overlooked the entire city, the view
mesmerizing. The city dated back to the ninth century and
there was something captivating to think someone stood at
this very spot, watching over this land, for over a thousand
years.
It would actually be a charming spot for a romantic
weekend getaway. Maybe a honeymoon.
How was it possible to miss him so much already?

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Thirty-Nine

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

T he moment I opened the door to Áine’s apartment, I

knew something was wrong. The scent was off.
Then I saw Margaret, seated on the couch, her feet
propped up on the coffee table, watching soaps.
Fucking soaps! She was so engrossed into it, she didn’t
hear us enter. Alessio, Luca, and I stood watching her laugh
at some dumb joke.
“Where is my wife?” I barked out and she startled,
jumping up to her feet.
“What the fuck?” she muttered. “This is not your
apartment, you know.”
“Where. Is. My. Wife?” I gritted.
Chad sang like a canary.
By the time I was done with him, his face was black and
blue, his eyes swollen shut. There wasn’t a single brave
bone in that motherfucker. Not like my butterfly.
“Enough,” he begged, crocodile tears pouring down his
ugly face. “I told you everything.”
He cried like a baby. The image of Áine, the day I saved
her, flashed in my mind. She didn’t cry like a baby when
she saw me. Though her shattered blue gaze hurt like a
sonofabitch.
 The pictures in the prick’s nightstand told a story of
many girls, just like Áine. Beaten. Bruised faces. Shattered
eyes. The prick got off on their pain.
The anger inside me boiled but I wanted to make him
suffer. Days, months, years of his suffering wouldn’t make
up for everything he’d done. So I settled for pulling his nail
clean off, relishing in his screams. His scream did nothing
to settle my anger. So I pulled another. And another. There
was something satisfying in seeing his fingers bleeding, the
raw flesh where his nails used to be.
Maybe I could peel his skin off too, I mused. That would
make him suffer a bit more. Unless he passed out. Fuck, I
should have brought smelling salts.
“I wonder if I should do the toes too,” I muttered, as if
thinking out loud. Not that I would ever get that close to
him. Filthy sicko.
The fucker actual pissed himself. The sound of running
piss all over the floor and the stench of urine filling the air.
The state's attorney was still naked, much to Luca’s dismay.
“Fuck,” Alessio grunted, his voice cold and hard. “I
really don’t want to be smelling like piss. Kill him already.”
“I really don’t want to be seeing his sorry ass dick,”
Luca complained. “My eyes are hurting at this sight.”
I shrugged. “We could cut it off.”
Chad started screaming, his voice so high-pitched, it
competed with bad opera singers.
“You shit yourself,” Alessio warned, “And I’m slicing your
throat.”
“No, no,” he begged. “I told you everything.”
“Turkey is a big, fucking country,” I said. “I’m afraid that
I need more specifics. Not to worry, I have time.” He didn’t
need to know otherwise. “We can get acquainted really
well.”
I grinned, probably looking like a fucking maniac. Not
that I cared. I pressed the blade of my knife against his
eyelid, then slowly pressed into it. The skin broke and
blood trickled out. My knife found itself pressing against
his eyeball and his piercing scream threatened to deafen
me.
Fuck, I didn’t need that side effect right now. Pushing
harder against it, his mouth finally spit out what I wanted
to know.
“Kars,” he wailed. “Kars in Turkey. Tomorrow.”
Half a breath and my blade sliced his throat in one swift
move. I watched him gurgle and choke on his blood, his
eyes frantic as he realized death was coming for him.
It was better than he deserved.
So the auction was tomorrow. In Turkey. Kars! Too damn
close to the place where we rescued Áine from all those
years ago. My only comfort during the past few hours was
knowing she was here, protected. I never thought to check
on her using the tracking on my phone.
Margaret’s eyes darted to Luca, then to Alessio, before
returning to me. I clenched my fists, anger boiling inside
me. If something happened to Áine, I’d lose my shit. Rage
flickered through my skin, mixing with the fear of losing
something I had only found. I waited for her my whole life.
My blood ran hot from the torture we just dished out
and adrenaline pumped through my veins.
“Cassio, calm down.” It was Luca’s voice. I ignored him.
The pressure in my chest, images of Áine’s expression full
of fear from eleven years ago played on repeat in my mind.
“Margaret, where is my wife?” I gritted, fury amplifying
with each breath.
It didn’t escape me that Luca stepped in front of me,
using his body to shield her.
“I knew this was going to end badly,” Margaret
muttered.
“Tell us what you know,” Luca demanded, before I could
bellow at her for allowing any stupidity that could harm my
wife. I knew well that Áine was stubborn and independent.
It wasn’t Margaret’s fault, but whoever maintained reason
when worried for their wife’s life.
“She said you have a tracker on her wedding band,” she
breathed out, worry etched on her face. “She’s gone to
Turkey, with her team. To kill Marco.”
Fuck. Me.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Forty

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

O kay, in the grand scheme of things, this plan was

stupid.
I woke up to a rough hand clamping over my mouth.
Through the nightmare hazed brain, I couldn’t distinguish
between dream and reality. I started fighting back too late.
Whoever it was already overpowered me by that point. I
didn’t stand a chance. He hurled me from the bed and
forced me down onto the carpeted floor. My head hit the
ground, taking the brunt of the fall. A cloudy haze of pain
pierced through my body and my brain, but the physical
pain wasn’t the worst part.
It took a mere second and a strong hit to my head for all
of it to come back. All of it. The screaming. Torture. Stench
of urine, blood, dirt, and sex. The degradation of women in
the worst way possible.
As all the memories rushed into my brain, I found myself
wheezing and gasping, incapable of a single word. I never
spoke a word during the tortures either.
Then the world turned pitch black.
I woke up to silence and the sensation of being watched .
Scratch that. Being leered at. Remaining still and keeping
my breathing even, I bid for time while my heart raced
under my chest.
As the fog in my brain slowly cleared, I realized it wasn’t
quiet.
Cries. Screams. Shouting.
Terror in each sound I heard, mirroring the one in my
heart.
I could hear them somewhere in the distance, but still
close enough to know I was in the same hell as those
people.
Trying hard to calm down my racing heart and stop
myself from freaking out, I waited and listened. I had to
focus on the current room, the immediate threat.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
I could smell the stale moisture in the air and something
else. A scent, a cologne. The smell was familiar, nauseating.
It brought a rush of unwanted images in my mind.
Marco King!
I kept my eyes closed, resisting the urge to open them.
Refusing to meet the darkness and menacing in the gaze
that haunted me in my nightmares. He was here: I’d stake
my life on it. A deep breath that wasn’t mine sounded too
close for comfort.
He is here.
“I know you are awake.” The voice sounded the same,
cruel and arrogant.
Each thud of my heart was a physical punch to my chest.
It hurt. I’m not that little girl anymore, I kept whispering in
my mind. I’m stronger.
The frames of the bed protested in effort as I moved,
forcing myself to sit up. My eyes traveled over the filthy
bed, the walls were in no better shape, a cracked dirty sink
in the corner with a bucket. I guessed the bucket was to
relieve myself.
 Breathe, I told myself silently. This four, stone wall cell
was every woman’s nightmare. It was creepy, hopeless,
leaving you with a taste of terror on your lips.
Not this time. I refused. I’d never cower or hide from
this man.
Slowly, as if preparing myself for the final scene of a
nightmare, my eyes connected with the black combat
boots. They were the cleanest and shiniest combat boots I
have ever seen, which told me he wore them as a fashion
statement. My own combat boots were scuffed up and
messy as shit. I wished I had them on right now. Instead of
wearing my pajama bottoms and a tank top. It made me
feel exposed, vulnerable. I should have slept in my clothes
with a knife sheathed in my boots, prepared.
Hindsight is a bitch.
Steeling myself for what I knew was coming, there was
nothing that could prepare me for this very moment. Not
years of training; not years of killing; not years of torture.
My heart hammered against my ribs, making each breath I
took painful. Just like those memories that assaulted my
mind.
Ever so slowly, my eyes went over his chest and
connected with his face. I had to work hard to keep from
freaking out. To prevent a whimper from leaving my mouth.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
I could see the resemblance. Between Cassio, Luca, and
Marco. They were Benito’s sons. Nobody could deny that;
one look at them and you saw the resemblance. Except,
Luca and Cassio lacked the menacing cruelty that Marco
breathed. He relished in it.
The same menacing, dark eyes met my gaze. If there
was ever blackness to reflect in someone’s soul, this was it.
His eyes were windows to his tar-black soul. I wasn’t
particularly bloodthirsty, but I wanted to gouge his eyes
out. Cut up his lips so he couldn’t smile anymore.
 A terrifying grin spread across his face. “Welcome,” he
greeted me, his voice sending disgusting shivers down my
spine. “You have turned into a beauty,” he commented. “I
knew you would.”
He stood up and took two short steps to me then bent
over, his fingers gripping my chin roughly.
“And those eyes,” he purred, his breath too close to me.
His scent made me want to gag, the bile stuck in my throat.
“Glimmering like oceans on a bright day with the flames of
the sun dancing in your hair.”
Fucking poet this one.
Without thinking of repercussions, I spit in his face.
I offered him a sweet smile, but I refused to utter a
single word. My gut feeling was telling me Marco got off on
women’s terror and pain. I’d be damned if I offer that up
willingly. If it was the last fucking thing I did, I’d die with a
fake smile on my face, and not a single whimper from my
mouth.
Before I could even take a breath, Marco charged me,
slamming my head against the wall, his body on top of
mine. My neck twisted at a weird angle, my head pushed
against the wall, Marco’s body on top of mine, and I
realized there was no usual panic from a man’s touch. My
skin didn’t break out in hives, my breathing didn’t turn
erratic. It was as if I was outside my body, watching the
whole scene unfold without a care.
I relaxed my whole body, letting the fucker get all
excited. He thought he overpowered me. It was exactly
where I wanted him. He found me vulnerable; that was a
big mistake on his part.
“Say a word,” he rasped. “One word.”
For a fraction of a second, my heart tripped, but I
quickly willed it to stop. Panic had no room here right now.
It would go south from there, and we were pretty fucking
close to it already. I pressed my lips tight, exercising
control.
 “You know you like it.” He breathed into my neck, his
mouth on my skin. I would need to shower in bleach to
wash him off. Fucker! “One word,” he said, making my skin
crawl with disgust.
His head was buried in the crook of my twisted neck, his
stinky cologne way too close for comfort, but I ignored it
all. I focused on my next step, kept my fear faded
somewhere in the back of my mind.
His grunts of pleasure and hands on me made my
stomach roil. He was hard, his hips pushing against me. As
if he was humping me. The picture of a dog humping came
to mind and a hysterical laugh bubbled in my throat. I had
to be on the verge of insanity. The memories that rushed
into my mind right before I was knocked out, this situation
and events of the past week finally caught up to me.
He reached his hand between our bodies, fumbling with
his belt and I found my window of opportunity. He was so
far gone in his excitement, he never noticed my body
shifted.
His head lifted, our eyes connected. There was a sick
glimmer of excitement shining in his dark depths. It hit me
right then. Luca and Cassio… my Hunter… my husband…
those two were nothing like this sick fucker. Nothing!
The striking resemblance between Hunter, Luca, Marco,
and their father started and ended in the physical
appearance. The latter two were cruel, evil and sick. They
actually enjoyed inflicting pain on women. Thrived in it
even.
Hunter and Luca saved them. Respected them. Cared
for them.
“Say a word.” He pulled his dick out and I scrunched my
nose. Must be the ugliest dick on this planet. In one swift
move, I shoved my knee with all my strength into his pitiful
jewels.
His bellowed wail almost deafened me, his entire body
hunching over. I pushed him off of me, watching him fall
like a stiff, wooden board onto the ground. It was almost
comical.
I jumped to my feet, my bare feet against the dirty floor.
Lowering my gaze, I watched him impassively. It was where
this asshole belonged. His face smashed against the filthy,
piss stained floor.
The rumors are true, I mused. It would seem hitting a
man in his groin was extremely painful.
“Fucker.” I let the word come out loud and clear, but he
couldn’t even register it from the pain in his groin. So I
flung my bare foot against his face. “Here is your one
word.”
I squatted down, his gaze barely tracking my movement.
His eyes were unfocused. I grinned coldly.
“You wanted me to talk, motherfucker. Well, here I am.
Talking.” The look on his face said it all. Realization that
maybe, just maybe, I was crazy.
The screams of the women he tortured, cut, and fucked
were louder than ever in my brain. Those images would be
ingrained in me for the rest of my life. Those women would
be scarred, physically and mentally, for the rest of theirs. If
they were even lucky enough to have survived.
My fist curled and I couldn't resist. I itched to see pain
on his face, feel it from his every breath.
So I reached out and put my right hand over both of his
that hovered over his crotch. Though it disgusted me to
touch him, there was nothing that would stop me from my
next move. I squeezed with all my strength.
Another wail as he tried to fight me but I was stronger.
“What’s the matter, Marco motherfucking King?” I
taunted in a low, eerily voice as I cocked my head. I
removed my hands off his crotch, letting him tend to the
disgusting dick. “You can dish the pain, but you're too weak
to take it?”
I smiled darkly as I patted down his pant legs. Bingo!
 Knife holster. “I know how much you love your knives,” I
purred with a dark smile. “Shall we start?” He grumbled
something intelligible, still holding on to his family jewels.
It was pointless, because he wouldn’t need them.
“I know; I know,” I drawled in a low voice, taking the
knife out of his holster. “I can’t seem to shut up.”
My hand held the knife as my eyes traveled over his
pathetic form. He was so sure of himself, he came here
alone. No guard at the door. Just him and I. If I died today,
at least I made the fucker pay. There would be no mercy for
him. He never offered it to anyone else.
My hand darted out in a quick move and sliced the skin
on his throat. The look of confusion on his face was
priceless. It was just a surface cut, but enough to make him
bleed like a pig that he was. Suddenly his groin was
forgotten and his hands lifted to his neck, gripping his
bleeding wound. A pained wheeze escaped him, and I
couldn’t help but relish in his pain.
Maybe I was fucked up, but I actually enjoyed his
groans, painful wheezing. I shifted my body, to ensure
nobody could surprise me from behind. Though if I was a
betting woman, I’d bet that nobody would come. There
were way too many screams echoing down this
godforsaken hallway.
“It’s good you already unbuckled your pants,” I
continued in a dark tone as I pulled his pants and boxers
further down his legs in one swift move.
I shoved a knife into his shoulder and another scream
pierced the air. He stared up at me in surprised horror. It
was the first time I’d done this. Usually I pulled the trigger,
from a safe distance. From the far corner of my mind, I
noticed his blood trickling down the handle of the knife and
onto my hands, staining them red.
His blood will forever be on my hands.
The thought didn’t bother me. Not one bit. This earth
would be a safer, better place without him.
 “Okay, time to get to work,” I announced with a dark
smile curving my lips. Maybe having my memories back
flipped a switch in my brain. Or maybe I was just fucked up
all along. I enjoyed this, seeing Marco motherfucking King
in his vulnerable state.
He was a dead man and he knew it.
I took his dick into my one hand. “I bet you didn’t think
I'd touch your dick like this,” I deadpanned in a cold voice.
Truthfully, I didn’t want to touch him, but fuck if I’d let him
get off easy. This was for every fucking woman he tortured,
raped, killed or let walk this earth in her broken state.
He tried to scramble, shift backwards but I had a tight
grip on his dick. “Don’t worry, Marco motherfucking King. I
won’t let go of your dick.”
His hand reached out, his nail scraping against my
cheek. I knew he got me, the sting instant. It was actually
pathetic. He fought worse than a girl. At least women
scratched better than that.
I yanked on his dick hard, forcing him to stop moving.
He instantly yelped and cried out.
“Now, now, don’t cry,” I said as I placed the blade
against the limp skin of his dick. “We are only getting
started.”
Realization of what I was about to do sunk into his eyes
and he attempted to kick me, saving his pathetic jewel. If
you could even call that shriveled, disgusting thing a jewel.
His leg connected with my rib, but I didn’t flinch.
Truthfully, he could break my ribs and I’d never let go of
that dick of his. Instead I squeezed his dick so hard, he
wheezed, then threw up. He attempted to turn to his side,
but I forced him to remain still, my one hand on his dick.
With my hand that clutched the knife, I brought it to his
face and shoved it against his jaw, forcing him to swallow
his bile.
“Now that’s a good boy,” I spat out.
 Fuck, I could do this for hours and days to him. Degrade
him. Punish him. Make him cry. Plead for mercy.
Of course, he’d never get any.
I twisted my hand and punched him against his
cheekbone with the handle of my knife. I grinned watching
the bruise form almost instantly. I wished I could record
this and send it to all the women he hurt.
Bringing back my focus to his little member, limp
between his legs, I grinned viciously.
“This little guy will never work again,” I purred, meeting
his gaze, relishing in the terror in his eyes. “You will never
forget my name,” I taunted. “For however short your life
will be, you’ll scream my name.”
Then I sliced, the flesh of his cock splitting. I took my
time, his screams shattering against the walls. I might end
up deaf after this, but fuck it. It was so goddamn worth it.
His member was cut off too soon. Much to my dismay.
He made women hurt for hours, taking turns with his men
over and over, until they were raw and bleeding.
“Yeah, this was too quick,” I murmured more to myself,
discarding his cock into a corner. It landed with barely a
thud.
He wailed but none of his pleading, screams or cries got
to me. In my mind, I was in a dark room, lost to hate and
brutality. It was time to dish it out.
“Stop it,” he wailed, his bottom half of the torso gushing
with blood. Interesting how much blood was in that little
body member. “What do you want?”
I locked eyes with him. “One word,” I said, digging my
blade into his thigh. “To hear your screams.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Forty-One

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

T he tracker led me to the hotel room in Kars. It was

still dark outside, the city and everyone in this
goddamn hotel sleeping. But my hunch had me dreading
each step I took towards the tracker.
I knew something was wrong as I walked towards the
room that supposedly held my wife even before I stormed
into it. It took a fraction of a second to register what I was
seeing. Luca and Alessio were behind me, but all my focus
was on the empty room, tumbled sheets, and the bedside
lamp knocked from the table. Evidence of struggle
everywhere.
Red haze blurred my vision, the pressure in my chest
tightened tenfold and detonated throughout every inch of
my body, leaving a hole where my heart should be.
They took her.
The edges of my vision switched from red to black fury.
In slow motion, I went through the room. Her little bag left
open. Her phone on the floor. Her toiletries still in the
bathroom. As I approached the bed, I picked up the lamp
off the ground and that was when I saw it.
My wife’s wedding band.
I picked it up and tucked it into my pocket. Luca and
Alessio both had their guns drawn but it was pointless. She
was gone.
“Put your guns away,” I told them. The last thing we
needed was to waste time with the Turkish police.
They both tucked their guns back into the back of their
jeans. We all dressed for combat. Out here, we were killers,
hunters, whatever we needed to be. Not the head of our
family. Those usually ruled from behind a desk.
Like Nonno. Like Vasili.
God damn it, I was fucking tired. I just wanted my wife,
safe and sound with me. In our home. Was that too much to
ask?
“Luca, see where her team is,” I ordered.
Chad gave us a location, but if we had to go into the
compound to retrieve her, we’d need all the backup we
could get. Whether those idiots liked it or not, they would
help. Even if I had to point a gun to their heads as they
helped.
“They are all here too,” Luca muttered.
“We should start with her right-hand man,” Alessio
suggested. “Do you know which one is her go-to man?”
I growled and he instantly realized how it sounded. I
knew what he meant. No, I fucking didn’t know who her
right-hand man was. I should know; she should have
fucking told me her reckless plan.
I dialed up Margaret. I didn't give a shit that it was the
middle of the night in the States. She answered on the first
ring. Good! She should be fucking worried about her
cousin, for letting her go through with her reckless plan.
“Yes?” her voice came through the headset.
“Margaret, who is Áine’s right hand man?” I gritted out.
Images of the young red-haired girl, beaten black and
blue, with shattering, broken blue eyes kept playing in my
mind. It was like pouring salt over an open cut. It fucking
hurt my chest to think of a single hair being hurt on her.
“John McAllister. He should be with her.”
 I ended the call without another word. Otherwise, I
could lose my shit and take it out on her. She was family by
marriage, after all and starting shit with her now wouldn't
do me any good.
“Check if there is anyone here by John McAllister,” I told
Luca.
It took him a short moment to dig it up. “It’s the room
two doors down.”
I grabbed Áine’s bag, stuffed her phone in it and we left
the room, heading for John’s.
“Let me handle this,” Alessio suggested. “You are
worked-up and this time, honey will work better.”
“And faster,” Luca chimed in, unhelpfully.
I looked at both of them and narrowed my eyes. Alessio
was very much like Nico in aesthetic regards. He had a
more clean cut look, though he was no less lethal. Just like
my dear brother-in-law. Fuck with the ones he loved, and
the psycho came out swiftly. I saw it firsthand.
I gave him a jerky nod. Sure, I’d stand in the
background. Let fucker John say one wrong word and I’d
give him my psychotic version.
Alessio knocked on the door. Waiting.
Quiet. No response. No movement. Nothing.
He knocked again and then followed up. “The Rose
Rescue,” he shouted through the door.
Then we heard it. Grumbling. Feet against the door. The
door swung open with an older man still in his boxers and
gun in his hand.
His eyes roamed over us and locked on me. “Let me
guess. Cassio King.”

“A re you sure this is it ?” J ohn asked for the hundredth

time, grating my nerves. “It looks deserted.”
 I chose to ignore him or risk just telling him off. The
building was old, a fort with three corner towers built out
of clay with certain sections crumbling. The place blended
with the vast desert landscape around it. The temperature
was rising as the hour advanced, and I knew eventually it
would be scorching hot.
God, I hoped she was dressed warm when they took her.
It clawed at me to think of her shivering at night, in the
cold, in this rotten place. I couldn’t even fathom anything
else happening to her, otherwise I’d lose my shit.
This whole place reminded me of the building I found
Áine in years ago. It probably dated back to the tenth
century. When we were done with it, it would be part of the
history, blown up to pieces.
“All these damn places look deserted,” Luca muttered.
“It is what makes them unnoticeable.”
“Okay, you got a point,” John admitted reluctantly. He
pulled out a device out of his backpack and I watched him
turn it on. I recognized it. It was a heat sensor to check for
bodies in the compound. Not sure why he just didn't do that
from the get go instead of blabbing away.
It took him a minute to set it up. Then I saw it, infrared
bodies moving through the structure. Bingo!
If only there was a way to distinguish women from men
and where Áine was.
“Shit,” one of Áine’s men muttered. Harry, if I
remembered right. Or was it Pilot? What the fuck ever, it
didn’t matter. “We are seriously outnumbered.”
Alessio, Luca, and I shared a glance. We knew it too. But
waiting wasn’t an option. An hour could make a big
difference in a single life. Áine’s life!
“We need to split up,” I told them. “Three groups, three
wings of the compound. Save women and children, kill the
guards and their soldiers, bring everyone back here.”
My eyes traveled over all the men to ensure they
understood. Each one of them nodded.
 “Sync up the watches,” I said. “Forty minutes. Our ride
will be here, waiting for us.”
My only worry was whether the transportation would be
big enough to accommodate enough victims. It was hard to
tell whether there would be ten or fifty women. Split up
three ways we proceeded into the compound; John and I
ended up together heading towards the furthest part of the
compound. We stuck to the shadows, taking advantage of
the sun that wasn’t up yet.
Though it was close. The glimpses of the rising sun
touched the sky far in the horizon.
We didn’t share any words, both of us on high alert. If I
knew Marco, he’d keep Áine away from the other women.
Cries echoed through the hallways, hitting me straight in
the gut. It made my stomach churn.
A piercing man’s wail echoed along with them. I
recognized it immediately. My heart twisted, like someone
stabbed a knife into it, and I took off running without
waiting for John.
As we ran down the rock corridor, a woman’s scream
pierced through from the left and both of our steps
faltered. It wasn’t Áine’s, but it was definitely a woman in
distress.
“You go on,” John said, turning towards the door from
which the scream came. “Get Áine and collect others on the
way. We’ll meet outside as planned.”
I nodded and continued on. There was no time to waste.
The stone walls were rough-cut and the chill seemed to
linger in the air permanently. With each step, the cries
became louder, and the only thing that kept my sanity was
that the sounds belonged to a man. They weren’t Áine’s.
I got to the last door and looked through the small bar
window. The scene that hit me was some gory stuff. A
murder scene from a horror movie. And I’ve seen some
shit.
 Marco was sprawled on the dirt floor, his pants around
his ankles, his dick discarded in the corner. There wasn’t a
single part of him clean. Blood covered every inch of his
skin and soaking his clothes.
His ears were missing too. A few of his fingers scattered
around the dirt floor. Some other body parts that looked
like flesh.
My eyes went to my wife. Her bloodied hands matched
her red mane, clutching a knife soaked in blood. Marco’s
blood! There was so much blood; I wasn’t sure how he was
still alive.
“One word, Marco motherfucking King,” I heard her say,
her voice cold and dark. And her smile, it was one I knew
well. It was the same one I felt as I killed Chad. Or any
other motherfucker that hurt people I loved. My wife stood
there like a goddess of vengeance, in all her glory. “Just say
one word,” she taunted.
“Áine,” I called out as I grabbed a key from the side and
unlocked the door.
She whipped around, knife still clutched in her hand and
her eyes wild. I knew the feeling. I lived through it. Seen it
on my friends’ faces. But somehow it never quite hit me
like this. Seeing it on the woman I loved.
Marco whimpered on the floor, a pool of blood all around
him. I didn't give a shit. He got better than he deserved. All
I cared about was about my woman right here.
“It’s okay, Butterfly,” I told her in a hushed tone. “It’s
me. I came for you.”
The wild look in her eyes slowly faded, bringing back
her shimmering blues of the deepest oceans.
“Hunter?”
I smiled. “Yes, it’s me.” I extended my hand, asking
silently for the knife. Her eyes flickered to my hand, then to
the knife and back to Marco.
“He won’t survive,” I cooed. “You did good. But let me
deal the final blow.”
 “Why?” Her voice was coarse, as if she just woke up
from a nightmare.
“You are too good to deal with his death,” I said. “He
doesn’t deserve your hands to give him that final blow.”
In an agonizingly slow move, she handed me the knife
with shaky hands. “I made him scream,” she rasped, her
voice trembling.
“You did good,” I told her. “Now, let’s save the other
women.”
There was nothing more I wanted to do but to pull her to
me into a hug. Fuck, I was scared whether she’d welcome
it, unsure what she endured.
“Psycho bitch,” Marco grunted, his whole body a bloody
mess. There were patches of skin missing off of him.
I pulled out my gun and pointed at my brother’s skull.
“Nobody talks to my wife like that,” I hissed. He wasn’t
worth any more of my time or Áine’s suffering.
He wasn’t worth it. Period.
Pulling the trigger, the bullet flew straight into his skull,
killing him on the spot. And then for the safe measure, I put
another two bullets into his skull and one straight into his
black heart.
There would be no reincarnations of that weasel.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter Forty-Two

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

H e was dead.
I watched Marco’s mutilated body with cold
detachment. Maybe it was my coping mechanism. I didn’t
think so. I felt no regret for what I’d done to him. In a
strange way, it felt satisfactory. To make him pay for the
sins I’d known he’d done.
Shots and gunfire sounded in the distance, waking me
up from my hazed vengeance state of mind. I met Cassio’s
gaze. My husband. What will he think?
Lowering my eyes, I noted what a state of a mess I was.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I looked up again and our gazes
collided. I let myself drown in that dark gaze that in a
strange way offered light and security. The memories and
pain that hid in the fog. He was right, I needed them.
Maybe now, I’d start healing. Except, I didn’t want to do
it without him. I needed him for me. My heart thumped in
my chest for him. It has ever since he rescued me. Amidst
the pain and screams that my mind couldn’t let go, it was
always him reaching out to offer help. His hand in the fog
offering the rose inked hand to pull me out.
“I love you,” I rasped out. Amidst the blood and death,
screams and pain, the words slipped out. It was the wrong
time and the wrong place. I didn’t care. “For years, I
couldn’t remember,” I muttered, twisting my bloodied hand
over my wrist. “In my dreams, I’d hear shit but none of it
made sense. But I’d remember your hand, reaching out.
And when I thought I’d drown in the fog,” I uttered, my
own voice choked with feelings that were suppressed for
years, “... it was your hand pulling me out.”
“Áine-” he started but I cut him off.
“I know, I’m broken,” I muttered, sniffling, “and this…
all of this is fucked up.” I extended my hands. We were
surrounded by smeared blood and evidence of me going all
Jack The Ripper on his half-brother. “But I-I can’t get my
shit together without you.”
Hunter’s hand took my face into his palms and he
pressed his lips on mine. “I love you too, Butterfly.” My
eyes stung and I blinked hard. “You are not broken. And if
we had time, I would have helped you skin Marco alive.
Made him suffer for days.”
My lips curved into a smile. “That’s the nicest thing
anyone has ever said to me.”
“Do you know how many people I’ve killed?” he asked
me. I shook my head. “Neither do I. Do you still love me?”
“I do,” I vowed.
“As I love you.” He pressed a kiss on the tip of my nose.
“But from now on, we will do everything together.”
I nodded. “Are you okay to walk?”
His eyes roamed my body, the worry in them. But I was
more than fine. “Yes, he didn’t do anything to me,” I told
him. “He laid on top of me and I kicked him, then I-” There
was no need to explain what I did after that. The picture
was painted perfectly around us with his body parts
scattered around us and blood pooling all around.
“Let’s go save other women and get the fuck out of
here.” My husband’s suggestion sounded like heaven to
me.
It took about ten steps out of the cell and the explosion
shook the ground, making both of us fall to our knees. The
ground was hard against my knees but I ignored the pain.
Sharing a glance, we stood up and continued running, my
feet bare against the dirt floors. None of it mattered
though. I knew without a doubt we would get out of here.
Because my husband was here.
We rushed towards the cell, closest to us and fumbled
with the door lock. The second we opened the door, cries
and whimpers echoed. There were four women, cuddled
together. The fear on their face hit me right in the gut.
I looked like shit, blood on my hands, all over me,
including my pajamas. But it was better I approached them
than Hunter, considering what they probably went through.
I rushed to them. “It’s okay. We are here to help.” They
eyed me warily but we had no time. “Please, we have to
hurry.”
I nudged them all towards the door while Hunter kept
watch with a handgun in his hand. Rounded up, we
continued to the next cell. And the next. There were twenty
of us at the end of the section of the compound when
Hunter nudged us outside.
“Hold on,” I stopped him. “There are probably more
women on the other two sides.”
“Others are taking care of it,” he assured me.
“Others?”
“Your men, Luca, and Alessio.”
“They won’t leave anyone behind?” I questioned him.
The way the sun hit his dark eyes and they glistened as
they watched me like I was the most important thing in this
world.
“I promise, Butterfly,” he murmured softly. “No troll left
behind.”
My heart tripped. Those were the same words I told
Margaret the night I ran into him. The night that kick-
started this journey to him. The love I had for him swelled,
and I was sure it glowed right through me. It fucking shone
bright, and it felt right.
 “I love you so fucking much,” I told him, pressing my
lips to his.
“Love you more,” he murmured against my lips.
Without another word, we continued out of the
compound. I could see in the distance a group of women. It
must be where we were going. Twenty minutes later, we
loaded the last girl from the compound into the large van,
and all the while Cassio, John, Alessio, and Luca stood
behind us, watching our backs.
“Five minutes before this place blows to shit,” Alessio
warned and we all loaded into the van.
Right on the dot, five minutes later the ground shook
with the loud explosion and I watched in the passenger
mirror as flames engulfed high up into the sky and over the
desert.
The past burned right alongside it.

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Chapter Forty-Three

OceanofPDF.com
 CASSIO

S eeing my wife endanger herself took years off my life.

I meant what I said though. From now on, we would
do everything together. The best way to protect her was to
keep her informed. I should have offered her the
information I had and she wouldn’t have made the decision
to go after Marco alone.
I would give her my all, and I’d demand her all.
“Do we know where we’re going?” she asked me,
leaning her head against my shoulder. She looked tired,
exhausted in fact. Luca and Alessio kept throwing glances
my way wondering if she was alright. The blood on her
made it seem she was injured but she wasn’t. It was all
Marco’s.
I nodded, assuring them she was fine.
Otherwise, I’d be staying behind on that compound,
making every single one of those men scream for days.
Áine’s torture method to Marco would be nothing
compared to mine.
She was all that mattered to me.
“So which way is somewhere safe?” Her soft voice was
like a velvet, caressing my skin and pulling me out of my
dark thoughts.
 “I have a house an hour or so from here,” I told her.
“We’ll be safe there. And we can get the women to a shelter
from there.”
She darted her eyes to Alessio and Luca. “Thank you for
helping.”
“Always,” they both uttered in unison. “You are family.”
My hand was wrapped around her shoulder and I pulled
her tighter into me.
She was home.

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Chapter Forty-Four

OceanofPDF.com
 ÁINE

OceanofPDF.com
 Three months later

T he Cathedral of Cefalù was the oldest church in

Sicily. The church was beautiful; the town even
more so. We’ve been here for a week, and I could see
myself staying forever. Much to Nonno’s happiness. He’d
already hinted for grandchildren and built us a villa on his
vast property.
So Cassio and I can have privacy, he said.
Privacy and Italian people did not go hand-in-hand. I
didn’t mind. I loved their wholehearted laughter, their wine
and many siestas. Beautiful red roses were everywhere on
this island, the warm breeze mixing their scent with the
sea. It made me feel at home. Terracotta-capped,
whitewashed houses of this town down the cobbled streets
and white sandy beaches made it a perfect place to raise a
family. And it didn’t hurt that DiMauro mafiosos were part
of my family. It made it even safer.
Nonno DiMauro sat in front of the church, his eyes on
me as I walked down the aisle covered in red rose petals
towards my husband.
My husband.
We’ve been married for three months now and each day
brought more happiness. More memories to replace the old
ones. As far as I was concerned, there wasn’t a single man
on this planet worth more than Cassio Hunter King. He was
his mother’s son, Nonno’s grandson.
I glanced down at my wedding gown that moved with my
body. It was perfect, form-fitting to my slim body, sleeveless
and with a low-cut back. My hair was pulled up in a bun,
leaving my neck and birthmark open.
For him.
My hands trembled with all the emotions. It felt
overwhelmingly scary to have so much to lose. Life without
him would be just empty living. We lived together, fought
the enemies hard, and loved each other even harder.
His closest friends helped with The Rose Rescue. In
truth, they have been saving the victims right alongside us
for years. We just didn’t know it. We welcomed the help.
After all, we were stronger together. With Benito and
Marco gone, the threats to the innocents weren’t gone.
Different day; different villain.
The one thing we all agreed on was we keep The Rose
Rescue a secret. Nobody would know; not even my own
parents.
Mom sat in the front too, smiling with watery eyes.
Everyone was here. Everyone we loved and cared about.
My family and friends.
His family and friends.
Our family and friends.
It felt like a long and winding road, but it was all worth
it. Something perfect and wonderful came from something
ugly and evil, and I thanked God and all the Saints for him
every day.
Everyone watched me take my steps towards the future
head of DiMauro mafia. None of their eyes mattered to me.
Only his.
The sunlight came through the stained glass windows,
throwing a multitude of colors against the thousand year
old stone and throwing lights against the tiny crystals
weaved into my dress.
 “I’m happy you found this,” Dad murmured right before
we made it to the altar.
“Love you, Dad,” I whispered. Emotions flickered across
his face and his eyes shimmered. It was the first time I
called him Dad. It was long overdue. He lifted my veil and
placed a soft kiss on my cheek before handing me to my
future.
Two of us together.
Whatever the future brought.

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 EPILOGUE

OceanofPDF.com
 Cassio

T he Vitales’ backyard was draped in silence, the only

thing breaking it were the words of the priest and
soft cooing of babies. Luciano’s baby girl. Nico’s baby twin
boys.
Every so often the little mischievous sounds traveled
over the soft breeze. It belonged to my twin nieces and
Matteo. No doubt scheming to rob a jewelry store or plan a
wedding. We’d have our hands full when our children grow
up.
Our children.
My eyes sought out the familiar ember flamed mane.
Áine held Margaret’s little one in her arms, cooing and
whispering soft words. The little one was literally fresh out
of the oven, a tad bit too early. But nothing could hold
Margaret back from attending a party - even an innocent
party like the christening. Margaret hovered over her
newborn too. Luca eyed all three of them.
My wife was a lioness when it came to protecting those
she loved. My friends and I were vicious in protecting our
family, but Áine, my sister, and Grace weren’t any less
brutal when it came to protecting it too. All of us, together,
made a good team.
My wife’s gaze met mine and the entire world faded into
the background, leaving me alone with the woman I loved.
She wore a light blue dress that made her eyes even more
stunning. Each time the breeze swept over the backyard,
her dress hugged her body, displaying her little bump.
We were barely into the second trimester. We’d be
starting our own family very soon now. The thought of
anything happening to her or our unborn child terrified me.
I’d already started re-evaluating security and protection.
My lovely wife chuckled and warned me I was going
overboard. Maybe, though it didn’t stop me. I wanted to
preserve this… this family we all worked so hard for.
The fear of losing any of it was real.
Nonno and Mr. Vitale assured me that was a good
feeling. It meant we all had a lot to lose and would remain
vigilant in protecting it.
“Godfather, may you please approach,” the priest’s voice
echoed through the backyard of Luciano’s house and pulled
me back to the task at hand.
Grace smiled as she handed me her daughter, the little,
three-month-old bundle of joy too small in my arms. Little
Francesca never even opened her eyes. Fuck, I hoped she
remained sleeping. Probably safest so I wouldn’t risk
breaking her if she wiggled. Luciano would beat the shit
out of me.
“Protect my baby,” Grace teased softly.
Goddamn it. My wife’s hormones skipped her and went
to me. I swallowed hard.
“With my life,” I promised.
Minutes ticked and the baby remained sleeping as the
priest recited the final verses of the blessing. Grace’s eyes
remained on her baby girl, while Luciano watched his wife.
“May almighty God, the Father, The Son, and the Holy
Spirit bless you Francesca Aria Vitale.”
The cheers followed, but I couldn’t peel my eyes from
little Francesca’s tiny body, cuddled into my chest.
Whoever thought all those years ago, we’d all end up here.
With the women we loved. Our children. The future smiling
at us, finally promising light and happiness.
A snap of the camera had me lifting my head. “Don’t
wake up the baby,” I whispered the warning in a hushed
tone. It was Luciano’s father who grinned, making him look
younger than I remembered seeing him in a very long time.
“You’ll be a good father, Cassio,” he patted me gently on
the shoulder and carried on. It was the only downfall of
having a big family - nothing ever remained a secret. We
tried to keep it to ourselves for another few weeks.
Luca must have blabbed his big mouth and told
everyone, I mused but a smile still played on my lips.
“How is pappa bear?” My wife’s voice reached me. I
pulled her with my free hand over and pressed a kiss onto
her forehead. She must have given the baby back to
Margaret.
“More important question is how is mamma bear?” I
asked her back.
Áine’s fingers brushed over Francesca’s cheek, her
touch featherlight. “I can’t wait until our baby comes,” she
murmured softly. “We have the best family waiting for
him.”
“Him, huh?” I teased. My wife was certain we were
having a boy.
“Yep, him.” Her shining ocean pools met my gaze.
Nothing measured to seeing her happy. It was the best
drug a husband could get. “And then we’ll have a girl.
Maybe a few more boys.”
I grinned. “How many kids are we planning on?”
“I was thinking like four, maybe five,” she mused,
teasing. “We’ll have to beat Bianca’s score.”
I followed her eyes to see Nico and Bianca sneaking
away, my brother-in-law's hand already on my sister’s ass. I
didn’t even want to guess where they were heading or what
they planned to do.
 I chuckled. “I’m up for a challenge. Though, we’ll have
to ask her to play fair and stop producing twins.”
My wife’s soft laugh rang out and I couldn’t resist
leaning towards her, nipping her earlobe.
“I love you so goddamn much, Vita Mia.” I never tired of
saying those words. “My butterfly. Until the day I take my
last breath and red roses cover my grave, I’ll be yours.”
“And I love you, Cassio Hunter King,” she whispered
softly. “Not a single day goes by without me thanking all
the saints for bringing you to me and making you mine. We
will have each other in life and death. Because there is
nowhere you will go that I won’t follow. You are a man
worth loving, and I am the lucky one here.”
Fuck! The words my wife could speak could bring me to
my knees.
“Together,” we both whispered, our foreheads
connected. “Forever.”

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PREVIEW OF BELLES & MOBSTERS: ALEXEI

OceanofPDF.com
 Aurora

T here has to be another way, I thought for the

millionth time.
My heels clicked against the pavement of the dark
alleyway. It was creepy, and I’d feel uncomfortable walking
down it without my gun or Alexei. Though I’d never admit
that to the cold, stoic asshole next to me.
An unassuming location and a plain building. You’d
never guess there was a kinky sex club off this quiet, dark
street. A large, brick house two stories tall, the place dark
and quiet. There were no cars around and no traffic. It
reminded me of a dead end, the dingy alley street in horror
movies, where serial killers took their victims to torture,
rape, or kill.
A cold shiver ran down my spine; the eerie quiet of the
night broken up only by the barely coordinated clacking of
my heels. I was still unclear what the expectation would be
once we entered through the club door.
“We didn’t even practice,” I muttered under my breath,
my heart thundering nervously. I’d felt better going into
combat, not to a fucking sex club. “Are you sure there isn’t
a better way?” I hissed sotto voce.
I was losing my shit and freaking out while Alexei
Nikolaev acted like we were going for ice cream. Icicles
more like it, I thought wryly. The man never showed any
damn emotions.
“Yes.” His answer was short, curt. No surprise there.
Man barely spoke and was cold as ice. Stoic as a damn
statue.
I didn’t feel comfortable with this plan. There was talk of
possibly performing to fool them. Performing! I wasn’t a
performer for fucking sake. I was an FBI agent. I never
dreamt going to sex club to be part of my job. But here we
were, on our way to it.
But I couldn’t let the chance at capturing Ivan Petrov
slip through my fingers. He was my case. And supposedly
there was a man that ran this joint who would be our ticket
to get to him. We had to gain Igor’s attention! Some fucker
who was in Ivan’s favor.
Wrapping my arms around my waist, I gripped at the
silky material of my short, red minidress. The top of the
dress fit me like a corset and was by far the tightest thing I
had ever worn. Each time I took a breath in and released it,
I was sure my boobs would burst out of it. The dress was
short, too short for my liking, and clung to every curve of
my body. I combined it with a pair of red pumps.
I didn’t pick any of it; it came with the assignment.
Courtesy of Alexei bloody Nikolaev. I’d rather take the
fucking heels and throw them at his pretty face.
How a man so bleak, so cold, could pick something so
bold was beyond me! But then, it wasn’t him wearing this
shit. It was me.
We walked side by side, his steps slower to allow me to
keep tempo in my heels. It was the first time I’ve seen him
in a suit. Usually, he wore his black cargo pants, plain black
shirts, and combat boots. I didn't like the man and his
physical appearance wasn't something I’d take notice of...
usually. Yet, today, it was harder than normal.
Fuck. This. Shit.
 My ankle quivered as I took a wrong step, and I almost
lost my balance. But before I could stumble, his inked hand
wrapped around my upper arm and caught me. My eyes
shot to where his touch seared my skin, sending hot waves
through my blood.
My eyes snapped to his face. The same stoic, unmoving
expression. Same frigid, pale blue eyes. It was the first time
he’d touched me. I focused on his body disturbingly close to
mine; so close that I could smell his cologne. An odd
mixture of citrus and pine. It actually smelled very nice.
I swallowed hard. “Thanks,” I murmured softly, my voice
slightly breathless. How was it possible that such a searing,
suffocating heat could come off such a frigid person?
No response. Barely a nod.
We continued, our steps slightly slower. Clack. Clack.
Clack
It took another ten steps before we stopped in front of
the discrete black door. A fleeting glance my way by those
pale blue eyes, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. If it
didn’t bother him; it didn’t bother me either.
A jerky nod by me and he knocked on the door. One.
Two. Three.
“One more,” I rasped. He cocked his eyebrow. “Three is
bad luck,” I explained.
He knocked one more time and the door swung open the
next instance.
In front of us was a woman dressed in an extravagant,
black cocktail gown. Everything on her was exactly right -
from her form-fitting dress, her jewelry, make-up, down to
her shoes. It was all perfect.
Her brown eyes locked on Alexei. Desire flickered in
them. And recognition!
I threw a side glance in his direction, wondering how
often this man actually came here. Returning my eyes to
the woman, I found her eyes on me, assessing me. She
nodded and stepped back to let us in.
 Alexei’s hand came to my lower back, his touch burning
through the material of my dress as he nudged me. I don’t
like this, my mind kept repeating over and over again. My
steps were hesitant as I moved forward, but there was no
going back now. The door shut behind us with a thud and
my heart raced faster.
I scanned the room with each step. The walls were
painted black, yet the reception area was marble white,
making the contrast stark.
“Welcome to the Eve’s Apple,” the woman purred, her
eyes hungry on Alexei. And her smile! It was so bright, it
might power the entire club.
A strangled laugh bubbled in my throat, but I quickly
swallowed it. That fucking name is so goddamn stupid!
Alexei’s big hand on the small of my back nudged me
forward. I took a step, heading toward a hallway with
burgundy walls and a mirror ceiling. The dim lights gave it
some serious porn set vibes.
We kept on walking until we made it to the end of the
hallway, which opened up to a large room with a bar to the
right. The room was painted black and had dark crimson
accents, from thick oriental rugs hanging off the walls to
the red marble floors to the crystal chandelier hanging off
the ceiling.
My eyes traveled over the people in the room. They were
mingling, men’s eyes hungry on women, as if they were
shopping.
“Drink?” Alexei’s frigid voice brought my attention back
to him. I nodded, when in fact I just wanted to shout, “FBI
motherfuckers, where is this goddamn Igor?”
We walked through the crowds, and it was impossible
not to notice the leers from women and men alike. Despite
my dislike of Alexei, I found myself stepping closer to him. I
didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, and he better not
get a bright idea and leave me alone for a bloody second.
As we sat down on the barstools, he signaled the barista.
 “Vodka spritz for the lady and Cognac for me.” Alexei’s
voice was disinterested and cold, with a hint of timbre. My
eyes fleeted to his, that little scar on his lip somehow
fascinating. I often wondered how he got it.
The moment the drinks were brought, I reached for
mine like a lifeline and took a gulp of it. I’d need it tonight.
I glanced around the room and suddenly felt Alexei’s lips
against my earlobe.
“No eye contact.” His breath was hot against my skin.
“Otherwise, it’s an invitation.”
My eyes widened, and I immediately returned my gaze
to him. We were here as a supposed couple. That was bad
enough; I wasn’t interested in inviting any additional
attention from other men.
Another drink was placed in front of me.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I muttered under my breath. I
gulped down my second drink. Before I could even open my
mouth, a third drink was placed in front of me. I didn’t grab
it; otherwise, I’d be on my way to getting drunk.
“Alexei Nikolaev.” A heavily accented voice came from
behind us, a big hand landing on my shoulder. I flinched at
the unfamiliar touch.
Alexei uttered something in Russian, his voice unmoving
and the cold tenor in his voice unmistakable. A shiver
ghosted down my spine. Before I could blink, the man’s
hand fell from my shoulder.
“Are you enjoying the club?” The man asked us both, but
his eyes never wavered from me. He was leering at me and
not even trying to hide it.
I cleared my throat. “It’s great,” I answered, forcing a
smile.
Alexei stood unmoving, his eyes locked on the man with
professional disinterest.
“Introduce us, Alexei.”
“Aurora. Igor.” The way my name rolled off Alexei’s lips
did something to me.
 His look gave me the creeps. Igor the Peeper was pretty
much undressing me with his eyes. Alexei must have seen
the same because his hand came to rest on my thigh, and
his heat made me shiver with excitement.
Wait. What?
“Would you like a tour, Aurora?” Igor offered, his eyes
never leaving me.
My hand covered Alexei’s and I patted it awkwardly. “Ah,
thank you. Alexei already offered.” I smiled sweetly. At least
I hoped it was a passable, sweet smile.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Who was this
Igor? Something about him rubbed me the wrong way. I
went through Ivan Petrov’s file in my head and I didn’t
recall the name Igor nor his face in the records.
According to the Nikolaev men, Igor was our ticket to
get to Ivan Petrov. Supposedly part of Ivan Petrov’s inner
circle. The part that concerned me was that I didn’t know
the connection between the Nikolaev men and this guy. The
FBI had never even heard of him.
Granted, I had only recently got this case and I
suspected it was because I was the only woman under the
age of thirty that wasn’t married. My tender age of twenty-
five usually worked against me, until they needed someone
for a sex club. Fuckers!
I scanned over Igor memorizing his features. I’d go
through the FBI database later and see if I could get any
kind of match. His hair was dark, cut short and military
style. He wasn’t bad looking, until you locked eyes with
him. His eyes were dark, almost black and something
unnerving in his gaze that didn’t quite sit well with me.
Then I remembered what Alexei said. Do not make eye
contact, otherwise it was an invitation.
I immediately turned my head and focused on Alexei’s
hard face. Those cold eyes could freeze back our melting
polar ice caps.
 “I have a VIP room ready for you,” Igor added, breaking
a slightly tense, uncomfortable silence. Alexei Nikolaev was
more than okay with the silence. Me, not so much. It drove
me fucking nuts. Growing up in a big home, with four
brothers, it was never quiet. You could hide in the
bathroom and you’d still not get privacy.
“Do svidaniya.” Alexei dismissed Igor with one word. Or
was it two in Russian?
With a final flicker of his eyes my way, Igor scurried
along. I watched him disappear among the people through
the dance floor in the center. On each corner of the dance
floor, there was a small elevated platform with a naked
dancer shaking her body like her life depended on it.
Several couples sat in lounges on the edge of the dance
floor, watching women and men dance. I followed their
gaze and my eyeballs just about popped out of my head.
She lifted her dress up to her waist, flashing everyone with
her bare ass.
I turned to Alexei to see if he’d noticed it too, but there
was no reaction on his face. His inked face with that
unusual blonde hair and those pale blue eyes was an
unmoving mask. Just like his brother, Vasili Nikolaev, Alexei
had this darkness ooze from every pore of his body.
“Who’s that guy?” I asked Alexei.
“Nobody good.”
I nodded slightly, keeping our talk to a minimum.
Awareness trickled down my spine and the atmosphere
thickened. A group of men came to the bar, their tones
hushed and their eyes on me. I felt like prey, open for their
hunting.
“VIP room. Now.” Okay, maybe Alexei wouldn’t allow an
open season on my ass. His voice was cold, dark; a tone
that made me wonder what his true story was. All I knew
was what his file said, but somehow I had a feeling there
was so much more.
 Though, it wasn’t something I should concern myself
with.
He stood up, offering me his hand. I took it, without a
remark and we strolled past all the gawking men and
women. It didn’t escape me that there were men swooning
after my date.
No, not my date, I quickly corrected myself.
Alexei led me down the short hallway and then through
the doorway. To our VIP suite. The room had glossy, black
marble floors, three red velvet walls, and one entire wall
with two-way glass.
There was the St. Andrew’s cross mounted to one wall
and I swallowed a breath, my eyes flickering to the stoic
man behind me.
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” I warned, my voice
trembling.
“Relax.” His one word answers were driving me fucking
nuts. I was falling apart here and this guy… nothing. Nada.
Zip.
My gaze shifted to the rest of the room, hoping to settle
my nerves. There was one black chair with a golden
wooden frame, facing the window that overlooked the
stage. I watched him unbutton his jacket, then take it off,
tossing it carelessly onto the side table.
He sat in the chair, looking like a king. Nervously, I
shifted from one foot to the other. Where was I supposed to
be sitting? The dimmed lights gave this whole situation a
bow-chick-a-wow-wow vibe.
“Sit.” One word command, in his indifferent voice and
yet, it sent shivers down my spine.
“Where?” I choked out.
No answer. He probably thought me stupid. This was a
couple’s club, as it was explained to me. Closeness was
expected.
I took a step towards him. And another one. I turned
around, slowly like in the haze, and sat down onto his lap.
With my back stiff, my eyes flickered out the window and
locked with a dark, piercing gaze. Igor!
“He’s watching,” I muttered under my breath.
“Da.” Fuck, his Russian voice was sexier than English
voice.
Two heartbeats, and his hands came to my waist. He
squeezed just tight enough, tempting me to turn around to
see his face. Though I knew I wouldn’t find anything there.
This man was too good at hiding behind his mask.
His hands slid down my waist and my thighs.
Goosebumps broke over my skin, and I clamped my teeth to
hold in my moan. Alexei was the coldest man I had ever
met, a criminal. Then why did my body burn? I felt like I
was on fire, the feel of Alexei’s hard body behind me made
the ache pulse between my thighs.
This is just for show, I reminded myself. We had to give
the impression of being a real couple. But his touch was
real, too real. I focused my eyes outside the window, where
two men and a woman gave us a front row show.
I watched the two men touch the blonde woman like
their lives depended on her, my eyes fixated on the three of
them. Her skirt was bunched around her waist, her one
shoulder strap off, exposing her one breast. The men’s
hands were all over her, hungry and rough. The expression
on her face was that of pure bliss. Blood in my veins burned
like an inferno; my skin buzzed with an unfamiliar
sensation. I couldn’t breathe, the air too thick, my lungs too
tight.
In one thrust, one of the men entered her and the
woman's moan vibrated through the glass. My soft gasp
echoed through the dark space. Electricity crackled in the
room and my mouth went dry as I watched her.
Her palms flattened against the glass. Jesus, they should
get a room, not do it out in the open, I thought to myself.
Though the purpose of the sex club was to do it in the open.
God help me out of this mess!
 Her moans became piercing, I heard them loud and
clear from here. One of the men wrapped his hand around
her, his fingers pinching her nipple and her breathy
whimper traveled over. I swore I had felt the pinch myself.
I shifted, trying to get comfortable, feeling too hot for
my own good. Then I shifted again, my ass grinding slightly
against Alexei and I froze.
Alexei was hard.
My head snapped back to his face. Nothing but the same
expression met mine. My heart pounded against my
ribcage, my breathing labored and this man showed
nothing. No emotion. No flicker of desire.
Except he is hard. The thought pierced through my
desire infused brain.
All thoughts evaporated from my brain, leaving me only
with this flame of lust that licked at my skin. I shifted on his
lap and a flicker of depraved hunger flashed in his eyes.
Flames in his pale blue gaze that threatened to swallow me.
Then he snapped. One second I was sitting on his lap,
the next my palms against the window, bent over with my
ass up in the air.

Alexei

I was so fucking hard, my cock strained against her ass.

The moment she ground against it, my control snapped. My
blood roared in my brain and rushed straight to my groin. I
fucking snapped.
Bending her over, her palms braced against the glass,
my hands pushed her red dress up, baring her ass to my
view. The woman wore the tiniest string I had ever seen. I
pressed my body against hers so she could feel my cock
against the soft curve of her ass.
Pressing my lips to her fragile neck, I enjoyed her soft
skin, the racing pulse beneath my mouth. Licking the skin
over her collarbone, I brought my palms to her round ass.
“Ready?” I asked. A small whimper escaped her mouth,
her breathing labored.
She glanced over her shoulder, our eyes connecting.
Those deep, warm brown eyes. The color of chocolate. She
smelled like chocolate too.
“Ready, kroshka?” It was her last chance to stop me.
“Y-yes.” Her voice was breathy, her lips red pouty, and
her eyes hazed with lust. Fuck if I knew whether it was for
me or what she saw that threesome couple do.
The petite, dark-haired FBI agent was full of surprises. I
shouldn’t take it too far. Everything that touched me ended
up broken. Everything I touched ended up ruined. Filthy.
But unless we played this right, Igor would rat us out
and our ticket to Ivan would go to fucking hell. The way he
leered at her pissed me off. It sent cold fury down my spine
and made me want to murder him.
Aurora was mine. Her mouth, though, wouldn’t be. I
didn’t kiss. Her breasts. Her ass. Her pussy. All fucking
mine.
I reached around and parted her thighs, pushing the
flimsy material aside and sliding my finger past her folds.
She was soaked. So fucking wet that my fingers were
drenched within seconds.
God help me, but she was intoxicating and maddening at
the same fucking time. Unlike anyone I had ever met
before.
Even her arousal smelled like chocolate, like a drug you
inhaled and forever remained in your system. I pushed my
fingers deeper in and her pussy clenched around my
fingers. Her head fell backwards, her eyes watching me
over her shoulder, through her heavy eyelids and her
cheeks flushed.
With my free hand, I fisted her hair and tugged it
backwards, aware others from the club were watching.
Except they could barely see, only the outline of us because
I dimmed the lights just right to ensure they couldn’t see us
clearly.
Her pussy kept clenching around my fingers, eager for
more as I thrust my fingers in and out. Her moans grew
louder, her ass pushing against me. Then without warning,
I retreated my fingers and brought them to her mouth.
Without my asking, her lips parted and she sucked them
clean.
Fucking beautiful!
Still gripping her hair with one hand, I unbuckled my
pants, pushed her thong aside, then slid my rock-hard cock
along her hot folds, then slammed into her. She was tight,
her pussy clenching around my cock like a stronghold. Her
moans vibrated straight to my chest as I fucked her hard.
For the past two weeks, ever since she opened her sassy,
smart mouth, this was all I wanted, and it was better than I
envisioned.
She felt like heaven. My own personal heaven that I had
no right to, but I stole a taste of it anyhow. All my control
disintegrated as I fucked her hard and relentless. She
matched each one of my thrusts with a whimper.
I worried I’d break her, forcing myself to ease up when
her low warning growl had me spurring on.
“More.” I was more than happy to oblige, picking up my
pace and pounding into her mercilessly. Her soft moans
turned into gasping, urgent cries. She was close. I felt it as
if it was my own orgasm. I turned her head so I could see
her face as she shattered with pleasure. For me.
Her dark eyes glazed with desire, her mouth parted, and
I fucked her faster and deeper until I felt her fall apart, her
pussy milking me for all I had. She was fucking gorgeous.
A shudder rippled down my spine and I blew my load
right into her tight, hot pussy, and the most powerful
orgasm of my life cut through me.
Fuck. Me.
 Her body slumped back into me, as if she sought out
comfort from me. Little did she know, I only brought havoc.
Never comfort.
I used my hand to turn her head towards me, and for the
first time in my life, I was tempted to kiss a woman. Not a
woman; this woman.
She must have felt the same urge, because her eyes
lingered on my mouth.
I was fucked. So fucked!

*** To Be Continued ***

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 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I want to thank my friends and family for their continued

support. To my alpha and beta readers - you are all
amazing.
To the best alpha reader a girl could wish for. Susan
C.H. You always have my back and your humorous
comments are priceless. One of these days, they are getting
published. You are amazing and I don’t know how I’d get
through some of these drafts without you!
To Jessica F. and Christine S. - you ladies rock! And to
my gang, Nicole H. and Emma J. - where would I be
without you. Then there is Mia O. and Jill H., and a
countless number of others - THANK YOU!
My books wouldn’t be what they are without each one of
you.
To my editor, Rachael at MW Editing. You are MY lady!
You catch my weird phases and “ingredients” I decided to
add on a fly. Without you, my attention strays away. Thanks
for keeping me on track.
To my rockstar cover designer Eve Graphics Designs,
LLC. My dear V - you make my stuff shine!
To the bloggers and reviewers who helped spread the
word about this book. I appreciate you so much and
hearing you love my work, makes it that much more
enjoyable!
And last but not least, to all my readers! This wouldn’t
be possible without you. THANK YOU!
Thank you all! I couldn’t have done any of this without
you! It is a dream come true for me.
Eva Winners
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