Chapter One

Audry

“Ten minutes to go.” Kylie’s sultry voice in my ear was like a caress and if I didn’t know that she was happily engaged, I’d think she was flirting.

“Why do we have to talk like we’re Navy seals again?” I asked grinning like a mad woman, as I pretended to peruse the shelf of leaflets opposite the hotel reception.

“Shut up and go with it. He’s coming down the stairs.”

“No elevator?”

“Apparently not.”

“What about the underboss?”

“Our interceptor is ready to go as soon as he steps foot in the lobby. That’ll give you a window of maybe three minutes. Don’t waste it.”

“Have I ever been known to waste a single minute?”

Kylie just snorted in my ear. It was a good thing that we were such good friends aside from her being my PA, because otherwise I would be obliged to fire her on the spot. My target, Marco Cassio of the Cassio Cosa Nostra crime family stepped into the lobby. I’d seen pictures of him, of course – Kylie is very thorough in her research – but whoa the man… clean took my breath away.

I mean, those shoulders alone should be illegal, and nobody would blame me if I just walked up to him and buried my head between his pecks. Furthermore, who really had that shoulder to chest ratio in real life? Movie stars maybe, not ordinary human beings with crime families to run. It was just so unfair, why did he have to look so good?

The black hair, black eyes, black suit really add to the air of danger about him, and weirdly enough, the scar on his face just enhanced the mystique instead of being off-putting.

Oh, I am going to enjoy this job.

“Stop salivating and get in position, Audry. Interceptor making contact… now,” Kylie interrupt my musings. With a sigh I begin walking towards the bar. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Dominic accost Marco and his bodyguard, his glasses askew and looking earnest.

“Mr. Cassio, I have a proposal for you, please read it,” he said loudly, thrusting a bunch of papers at the crime lord. Marco simply glanced at his underboss and walked away. Valerio Cassio, Marco’s brother and right-hand man, grabbed Dominic and began to drag him towards the exit of the hotel.

I crossed my fingers. It was sink or swim time. If Marco didn’t go towards the bar, I would lose my window. I watched with relief as he strode across the room and into the bar. His appointment wasn’t for another hour and a half. Kylie was currently in traffic, making sure his vehicle was delayed, and Dominic was making it very difficult for Valerio to let go of him, as he tried to convince him that his proposal was the best thing that could ever happen to Marco.

“He’s really good at this,” I murmured to Kylie, impressed at the boy’s commitment. We’d hired him from an improv group, told him it was an acting gig.

“The longer you can keep the bodyguard occupied the more you’ll be paid.” I had told him. I could see he was going for gold.

Bravo, I thought as I sauntered towards the bar where I could see Marco ordering a drink. The bartender put the drink in front of him and I picked it up and drained it. “Hoo boy, I needed that.” I twirled around to face Marco with a grin, “Thanks for the drink.”

When I turned, he had been glaring but then his eyes widened and his jaw dropped, face paling as if he’d seen a ghost. “Amy?” He croaked in disbelief.

I stuck my hand out to be shaken, “Good guess, but actually, my name is Audry. Pleasure.”

He stared at my hand as if I had offered him a cancerous tumor to hold. Then he looked up at me. His face tilted to the side. Then he straightened up abruptly. “Apologies. I thought you were someone else.”

I smiled sultrily and took a step closer to him running my red polished nail down his lapel. “I’m up for a little role play if you like.” I grinned cheekily, biting my lower lip and winking.

To my surprise he recoiled, his face closing up. “No thanks,” he said coldly signaling to the waiter. My window was closing rapidly. His brother would be back at any moment.

I lean even closer to him, reaching for his chest, “Aw, you’re no fu-aaah!” I affected to trip, falling against him and letting him catch me with his body.

His strong arms closed around my waist. He picked me up – seemingly effortlessly – and put me away from him. I have to admit it made me a little breathless, the ease with which he did it. Mission accomplished though; it was time to get out of there.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” I feigned embarrassment, shuffling my feet and then hurrying off. On the way I passed his underboss headed towards Marco.

Phew, cutting it rather close.

I opened my hand, looking down at the keycard nestled in my palm. A grin spread over my face, “The eagle has landed or whatever.” I said in my ear.

I could just see Kylie rolling her eyes. “I take it you got the key card.”

“Yep.”

“Good, because Marco’s car is just drawing up at the entrance. I’ll follow him to keep an eye out.”

“Excellent. Going up.”

From my place behind the indoor plant that stood between the elevator and the stairs, I watch as Marco walked out of the hotel, his gait a graceful lope like a gazelle or some big cat. His shoulders filled the doorway, as he stepped out and I shiver, remembering how hard his body felt when I leaned against him.

He could definitely crush me with one hand tied behind his back. He could probably lift me up and break me in half on his knee, twist me around and smash me flat. All without breaking a sweat.

I didn’t know why I was breathing hard. As far as I knew I didn’t have a masochistic streak.

Chapter Two

Marco

“This meeting could have been an e-mail,” I complained to my brother as we once again hit LA traffic. It was a real pain in the ass, even in the cool air-conditioned Lexus I was traveling in.

“But how could the clans impress upon you how worried they are about the Bratva if this was an e-mail?” My brother Valerio replied. He thought he was such a comedian.

“Not helpful.”

“Wait,” he said, glancing back at me from the driver’s seat, “what’s up with you? Something’s wrong.”

I turned away from him to stare out the window, hating how perceptive he always was. I tried shaking my head but he cut me off. “Bullshit. What’s bothering you? You need a clear head for this meeting so you might as well tell me now and get it over with.”

“It’s the weirdest thing,” I shook my head in wonder, “I met some girl at the bar, and she was the spitting image of Amy.”

Valerio remained silent for a handful of seconds while keeping his eyes on the road, clearly caught wrong footed. Whatever he’d expected me to say it wasn’t that. “What do you mean spitting image?”

“I mean copy and paste, dude. She was like a flirtier, sassier version of Amy.”

“You’re not saying you…?”

“No, fuck you. Of course I didn’t sleep with her. Since when have you known me to pick up chicks in bars?”

“Okay so… what did you do?”

“Nothing. She kind of seemed to want to hit on me, but then she tripped and fell and got embarrassed, so she left.”

“And you just let her go?”

“What else was I supposed to do? Tell her, ‘Oh hey you’re the doppelganger of my dead fiancé, crazy huh?’. Or what?” I gave him a look of disgust through the rearview mirror.

He stared back at me through the small mirror, something like pity in his eyes, long enough for it to get slightly uncomfortable. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop but he spoke before me.

“It was probably the light. Those hotel bars are so dark. All she would have needed was some brown hair and eyes, the right height, the right weight…”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I looked away not wanting to argue with him about what I saw. I knew he was just trying to comfort me but, it was coming off a bit like gaslighting.

***

Maybe the Cosa Nostra was no longer what it used to be, but it was still a force to be reckoned with. Nicolò De Luca sat at the head of the table, the head of the largest clan in LA. His specialty was girls and drugs – so there was plenty of business in Hollywood for him. To his right sat Mauro Leggieri, owner of the largest gambling ring in America. To his left, me. Our specialty was transportation – we did it all; guns, drugs, illicit goods, anything that needed transportation, we were your guys. The only thing we refused to transport were human beings.

We left that to the Russians.

Down the table were the smaller outfits, distributors mainly – essentially our main customers.

“Gentlemen welcome.” Nicolò said looking around the table. “I know you’re all busy men, so I appreciate you taking the time to come out to Malibu.”

There were various nods of acknowledgment up and down the table. I waited for him to continue, appreciating that he usually did not waste time before getting to the point.

“Today we are here to discuss the incursion of the Russians into our territories. They’re a little too entitled for our comfort.”

“Not to mention acting up and attracting too much attention.” I added.

Nicolò nodded in my direction. “Yes, thank you Marco. I know your business has been particularly affected by their activities on the docks.”

“Yeah, the authorities don’t look too kindly on human trafficking.”

“That’s why we’re all here today. To discuss solutions.”

I sighed inwardly. I was not a fan of the endless talking we’d been doing all these months while the Russians continued to disrespect us. If I couldn’t convince the other families to ride with me, my options would be very limited. I’d either have to go rogue, or else accept the inevitable.

Both those options sucked.

Chapter Three

Marco

Try as I might, I could not get that woman out of my head.

Even as Nicolò droned on about the importance of maintaining a low profile so as not to attract the wrong kind of attention, I was busy wondering who she was.

Note to self: find out if Amy had any long-lost relatives.

It somehow felt like I was being haunted. Just when I was gearing up for a meeting to discuss Aleksandr Yegorov, I was visited by the ghost of the woman I had loved and that he had killed. The Italians had strict rules about keeping family out of business matters, but the Russians had never gotten that memo. They came to my pre-wedding dinner and opened fire, killing my father and my fiancée.

All just to send a message about trade routes.

What did they think would happen? Did they think I’d just roll over and hand them those routes? It had been ten years, and we were still grappling, albeit surreptitiously. I knew Aleksandr would like to kill me just as much as I would give anything in the world to kill him. But the cowardly clans would not sanction it for fear of setting off a war. Instead, they held talks with the Russians, who conceded that we could keep the disputed trade routes.

Ironically, those routes were already ours, for fuck’s sake. They were the interlopers.

“Don Nicolò, I know we have to think strategically but we need an actual plan for dealing with the Russians once and for all.”

“All in good time, Cassio.” Nicolò said, much to my unending frustration.

The meeting ended without any real resolution, simply more platitudes and action plans I wasn’t sure would ever materialize.

I walked to the car, where Valerio was waiting. He opened the door for me, and I slid into the back, digging into my pocket to pull out my phone. I switched it on, bracing myself for whatever messages were waiting. The meeting had gone on for three hours, so I knew I’d have a bunch.

I wasn’t prepared for just how many though.

My accountant alone had sent thirty messages. I clicked on them with trepidation.

I don’t think selling Accords shares will go down well with the Lamberts. I would also have appreciated it if you had let me know of your intentions.

I frowned, wondering what he was on about. I was about to call him when I read the next message.

Colbert’s too? That deal was part of our overall agreement. Did something happen? I need instruction, Marco.

My heart sank. What the fuck was going on? I called Jade right away.

“Mr. Cassio, finally. What is happening?” she asked sounding frazzled.

“You tell me. I haven’t sold anything. I’ve been in a meeting for the last three hours.”

“What do you mean by that? All the correct authorizations were given for the transfer.”

“You didn’t think to call me first?”

“I’ve been trying to call you!” she screeched. I winced, moving the phone from my ear.

“Yeah okay, send me all the data you have on what’s been sold and when. We need to know who did it and why and we need that info fast. Before I talk to the Lamberts or Colbert, the Hellers or anyone else. Quick, Jade.”

“On it.” She said and hung up. I straightened up, my heart racing with anxiety. Of course, my first suspicions were the Russians, but I didn’t think they were bright enough to pull this off. I had to trust that Jade’s hacker would be able to find out who had done this so I could have the pleasure of killing them once I got all my money back.

And I would get it all back. There was no other option.

I was filled with simmering rage and was determined to find a target for it very soon. I got out of my vehicle and strode into the hotel, wanting to collect my belongings and get back to the office as quickly as possible. There wasn’t much in my hotel room, as it had just been a temporary base of operations in Santa Monica, and a much shorter drive to Malibu compared to my headquarters in Pasadena.

All I had there were some clothes, my iPad, a few burners, and some cash.

I should have just gone ahead to Pasadena and let Valerio collect all this shit.

Tapping my foot, I waited for the elevator, my brother a taller, calmer presence behind me. We walked in silence to my room, and then he held me back as he checked the door and the booby traps we usually left.

They were still intact, and I nodded as he stepped back and let me enter. He would stand outside and wait for me, probably very glad to be away from my simmering spirit for a few minutes, unless I called him in.

I was walking straight for my closet, one hand stretched out to open it when I realized the room wasn’t empty.

Giving a shout, I reached for my gun when the woman on the bed raised her hands. “Don’t shoot.”

She was lying on my clothes, my iPad next to her, cash spread all around her, wearing nothing but a black teddy and some red soled heels. It would have been comical any other time, but now it just played into my paranoia.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in here?” I growled even as the door flew open and Valerio came barging in. He saw the woman on the bed and dived, grabbing her hands, and detaining them in his. He looked up at me, “Should I kill her, boss?”

I smirked a bit, cocking an eyebrow at her, “Well?” I asked, “Should he kill you?”

She batted her lashes coyly at me, “Not if you want to know where your money went.”

Chapter Four

Audry

The strategy was risky, I’ll be the first to admit it – stealing from a trigger-happy gangster is one thing. Sticking around and confessing is truly unhinged behavior. Kylie told me so many times. However, I could see no other way to infiltrate his many layers other than to offer myself up to him.

He didn’t make it easy, but I’m not one to complain. His iPad had his passwords saved. His fingerprint, I simply lifted from his key card. Oh, and the booby traps on the door… amateur hour. Too easy to set up again for the eagle-eyed infiltrator; that is, me.

Months of study and research, including a very drunk and high night with his accountant’s assistant, had given me the correct authorizations. Transferring the money from one place to another was a matter of moments. I was really proud of myself for this one.

Brilliant work Audry.

If nobody else was going to pat me on the back, I sure was. But now this bodyguard was holding my hands way too tight, and it was a little painful I admit. Difficult to maintain a flirty mien when you’re in pain. But I did my best.

“It’s rude to keep a woman waiting. Where were you all this time?”

His eyes literally flashed at me. It was scary sexy. I might have been a little wet. “Who do you work for?” He asked me coldly.

“Hey, come on, if you’re going to interrogate me you should at least ask what my name is.” I changed to a preppy British accent, “We haven’t even been properly introduced. What would Emily Post say?”

His lips twitched the slightest bit, as if he was tempted to laugh.

Got him! I thought triumphantly.

Marco looked at his underboss. “Cover her up and bring her along. We don’t have time for this.”

He watched as his underboss manhandled me, taking off his coat and covering me with it, before gathering his belongings off the bed and stuffing them into a bag. He walked out of the room without another glance at me, the body guard following behind, his hand like a vice around my arm.

I went meekly, determined not to provoke anyone any further problems by making a fuss. Marco’s shoulders flexed, and I could feel his annoyance. He seemed to be quite volatile at the moment and I couldn’t really blame him. Still, had I made an effort to look attractive for him. The least he could do was notice.

They bundled me into a black Lexus with tinted windows and luxury leather seats. There was a drinks bar in front of us and the leg room was ridiculous. I’m tall, so I notice those little touches. Of course, Mr. Gangsta’s Paradise happened to be much taller than me, so I suppose the leg room was for his benefit, not mine. He sat across from me, glaring malevolently, his icy blue eyes boring into me like a piston.

“There’s no need for all that.” I said as softly and sultrily as I could, “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“Who are you?” he barked.

“I’m Audry.” I made to stick out my hand, “And you are…?”

He quirked an eyebrow. I have seen many people do that, but never so elegantly. “You hacked into my accounts, and you don’t know my name?”

“No of course I know it. I was just being polite.”

“Why?”

“Hmm?” I furrowed my brow in pretend puzzlement.

“Why did you rob me?” he snapped, grinding his jaw like he wanted to bite me.

I sighed dramatically, looking out of the window. “Why does anyone do anything? For the fun of it of course.”

He reached out and grabbed the lapel of the coat I was wearing. “Listen here bitch, if you don’t give me a straight answer, I’ll-”

“Okay! Okay.” I tried to placate him, “Listen, I want to answer you, I do. But I can’t.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

His mimicking of my accent was really quite good. I grinned at him. This was going to be fun.

Chapter Five

Marco

“So, you can’t tell me why you stole from me? What can you tell me?”

“I can tell you that I can get your money back.” She looked me in the eye as she said it, nothing flirtatious about her tone. Maybe she was even serious.

“I see. And why should I believe you?”

“Give me your computer and I’ll give you a demonstration.”

I threw back my head laughing cynically. This woman was really too much. “What kind of fool do you take me for?”

She looked at me batting her lashes like some Victorian lady. “I don’t think you are a fool at all Mr. Cassio. The problem is you think me a fool. However will we manage if we can’t take each other seriously?” She laid it on thick with the Victorian accent. I couldn’t help feeling it was all a game to her.

My eyes raked over her frame, “You wanted to be taken seriously in that Victoria’s Secret cosplay you got going on?”

“Ouch. And here I thought you might appreciate the eye candy.”

“Hoping to lead me around by my dick?”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to be so crude about it.”

I snorted bitterly, “Well sorry, you tried it with the wrong man.”

She leaned forward, eyes wide, eyebrows raised. “Why? Are you homosexual, monsieur?”

I had to laugh at that, shaking my head as I gave her a derisive look. “What hubris. To think every man who isn’t attracted to you is gay. You must be delusional.”

The irony was that, with her strong resemblance to Amy, I couldn’t help but look twice, thrice, my body reacting to the familiar even as my mind tried to tell it to stand down. Her resemblance to Amy was really messing me up and I couldn’t help thinking that someone was deliberately fucking with me.

Only one name came to mind.

Aleksandr Yegorov, my nemesis.

***

The compound in Pasadena looked like an ordinary estate on the outside. A standard split level estate style house set in three acres, surrounded by ten-foot-high concrete fences topped with electrified barbed wire. Underground though, there was an entire warren of rooms for storage, accommodation, training, and even dungeons. It was its own little city, and I was the mayor.

Valerio dragged Audry out of the car and marched her into the house with me following behind. She was remarkably cool and calm for someone who had essentially been kidnapped.

Unless this was part of her plan.

I couldn’t imagine why she would want to be kidnapped but then again, I couldn’t imagine why anyone would be insane enough to steal from me. I had her hung up by her wrists, toes just scraping the ground, in her sexy little teddy outfit, and turned the heat all the way down. I figured by the time I made some phone calls, and had a meal, she would be ready to talk and give me some real answers.

I was so heartily sick of her quips; and much as I hated to admit it, she was fucking me up. Hearing her words coming from Amy’s face was making me feel like I was going crazy.

Aleksandr Yegorov you will pay for this.

I called my accountant.

“Bad news Marco. My hacker said he traced the transaction to the source. And the source was you.”

This did not surprise me seeing as she probably used my iPad. I have to admit that was pretty clever of her. She could have gotten away with it completely, if she hadn’t waited for me on my bed in her underwear.

Taking a deep breath, I knew it was time to call my associates – the Lamberts, Colberts, and Hellers. They had to hear from me what was going on.

I explained as best as I could that an issue had arisen, but I was sorting it out. “I’ve already found the source of our problem. I’m getting them to fix it now. All I ask for is a little patience.”

Seeing as, in ten years of working with them, I hadn’t once let them down, it was the least they could do for me.

This business doesn’t exactly operate on trust, and I knew they would be fidgety until the money was back where it belonged. That meant I had to get Audry to tell me where my money was. Now that she had marinated enough to reflect on just how bad this could go for her, it was time for me to play good cop.

I went to my sister’s room, and collected a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, as well as some vans. “Here’s hoping you’re the same size as Amy.” I murmured to myself knowing that my late fiancée and my sister had worn the same size.

I stepped into the dungeon, to find her struggling. Her nipples were peaked, their shape apparent through the thin silk of her teddy. She was twisting from side to side, her face contorted with the effort, as her feet strained to touch the floor. I knew she had to be exhausted and cold.

I walked right up to her, looking into her liquid brown eyes. They were so like Amy’s, and yet not. Amy hadn’t been a shrinking violet, but she had been shy and retiring, her eyes demure, and soft. A shy smile always peeking out through them. It’s the thing I miss about her most – the fact that she smiled with her eyes.

Audry had the very same eyes, but they weren’t smiling. They were regarding me very cynically. Even in her pain her lips were twisted in a smirk. Her eyes dared me to do my worst. They told me that I could never touch her soul, whatever I did to her body. It was such a mind fuck.

I put my hands around her neck, eyes locked with hers and squeezed. I wanted to see the fear come into her eyes, the realization that she’d lost.

“Harder daddy.” She whispered, tilting her head to give me better access.

I snatched my hands away, eyes narrowed in annoyance that she’d got to me so easily.

“That all you got?” she whispered.

I blinked, reaching up to unlock her shackles. Maybe she had a fetish for pain. If that was so, she wouldn’t get any satisfaction from me.

She dropped to her feet with a sigh of relief, rubbing the feeling back into her wrists. I thrust the clothes at her. “Get dressed. Then we can talk.”

I moved towards the door turning my back on her. I figured she would try and attack me, and then try to escape, but even if she managed to knock me out – which, frankly, doubtful – there was no way she could negotiate the maze that was our underground layer, and escape, without being caught.

To my surprise, she didn’t try anything. I heard the rustling of fabric, and then a loud sigh. “I’m decent,” she said snarkily.

I turned around to face her, and smiled. The clothes fit her perfectly. “You did as you were told. That is an excellent start. Good girl.”

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Chapter One

Kate

6 months ago

I take just a moment longer to pull my hair from the bun that I’ve had it in all day. Billy likes my hair down. Long bright blonde ringlets fall past my shoulders in waves and curl prettily around my face as I fluff up my hair just a little. I re-button the top few buttons of my blouse that I had undone and adjust things to be a touch more modest. I reapply a thin coat of lip gloss on my full lips and rub some of the blush from my cheeks before grabbing the bag of takeout food that I’ve brought home. Billy will be happy that I came home early. I’ve been busting my ass to get this case closed early. The higher ups were so thrilled with my work that they are even giving me a bonus. Billy will be thrilled! I can just see the look on his face now when I tell him that we can expect a hefty sum to be deposited into our joint accounts in the next couple weeks. Maybe I can even convince him to spend a little bit to take Liz to the zoo this weekend. I could make a picnic and we could make a whole day out of it!

Now we can watch that streaming movie that everybody is talking about, have a family night and have a good dinner that I don’t have to cook. It’s shaping up to be a pretty damned good evening. We need a good evening. It’s been far too long since it’s just been… easy.

I balance everything carefully in my arms as I kick the car door shut with my foot and start to head inside of our ranch style three bedroom. There have been times where I felt that maybe our starter home was a touch too modest, but not today. I don’t think that there’s much that could dampen my spirits today.

At least, not until I hear the crying.

My heart drops into my ass instantly. My keys nearly fall out of my trembling hands as I hurry to open the door, already fearing the absolute worst. It’s a strange sort of adrenaline that nearly knocks me off my feet. I drop the take-out food to the ground and hear it squelch on the ground as it falls, but I can’t bring myself to care. I use my other hand to brace my trembling one. I’m only two seconds from kicking the damned door in when the lock opens and I shoulder my way inside.

“Liz?!” I scream instantly, but my voice cuts off mid-sound.

The source of the crying is abundantly obvious. For one second, just one sharp inhale of breath, I register just what it is that I’m seeing in front of me. Billy is standing up beside the dinner table. The warm yellow light of our outdated fixture creates a sort of circular spotlight on the perverse spectacle in front of me.

Billy’s hand – he always had such large hands, he played just about every sport under the sun in college – is on the back of our young daughter’s head. He’s bowed over close enough to snarl spit into her ear as he screams at her. The raspy voice of his that I had until this very moment always found so endearing is now a deadly venom that will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life.

“I don’t get what is so fucking difficult for your tiny little brain to fucking comprehend” Billy shouts as he shoves Elizabeth’s head toward the workbook. He shoves her forward and her forehead hits the workbook and table hard enough that it makes an audible thump. She’s going to have a bruise. He’s hurting her. My husband is hurting my daughter. She’s crying. My mind refuses to put those pieces of information together.

Elizabeth’s tiny hands are braced against the lip of the table so tightly that her skin is white from the pressure of forcing herself away from the table and the splayed open workbook in front of her. It looks like homework. She must have asked for help. She’s found most of her second-grade homework simple, so it must have been her math work. She’s bright, nearly two whole grade levels ahead. Yet, for some reason Billy is mad enough at her that her tears have formed a circle across the workbook that I can see all the way from across the room.

He hasn’t heard me.

He doesn’t know that I’m home yet.

“I’m sorry!” Liz yells through her tears. She doesn’t know why her Daddy is hurting her. She doesn’t understand why anybody would hurt her. I don’t understand why anybody would hurt her.

“I don’t want to hear your bullshit lies! I want you to fucking do better! Always whining! Always complaining! It’s not my fault that you’re stupid!” Billy seethes.

Something in his face chills me to my very marrow.

Something more than rage, more than anger or a fit of his alcoholic rage, there’s pleasure there. He’s enjoying scaring her.

I snap.

One breath, I’m frozen, the next I’m across the living room and tackling my husband. My six foot three, two hundred and something pound husband built like a damned linebacker while I’m only five foot three.

My body colliding into his doesn’t do much more than sway him. But at least it gets his hand off my daughter. “Go to your room!” I snarl at her. I will apologize later. Liz is up from the table a second later, and Billy reaches for her.

“Don’t you fucking leave this table, bitch!” Billy snarls at her as she dodges him and runs as far as she can, howling her whole way down the narrow hallway to her room. I hear the door slam shut and something in my chest loosens only a smidge. Billy rounds on me – something that I expected – those same large hands hitting me in the middle and knocking me back hard enough to lose my breath as I collide with the half wall separating the kitchen and the small dining room space. “Who do you think you are, interrupting me?!”

How many times did her head hit that table?

How long has he been screaming filth at her?

I start to stagger to my feet, and he hits me again – backhands me hard enough that I collapse. My whole body folds around my face as I cradle the injured skin with both hands. It feels like my eye is about to pop out of my skull. My teeth feel rattled.

“Those little shits these days, that’s the only teaching that they know! Their teachers are too soft on them, everybody is too soft on them! She needs to learn!” Billy snarls, spit falling from his mouth and landing in a glob on the carpet between us.

“She’s only six! Billy! Nothing can justify what you were just doing to her!”

“A smack is the only thing that teaches! A good dose of fear will have her acting right!” Billy reasons. I can see in his face that he believes his words. He truly doesn’t think that he’s done anything wrong.

“You want to keep talking back to me?” He sneers at me, and normally when this sort of thing happens, I know better than to get up off the ground. He will go back to his chair and calm down. I’ll bring him another beer and everything will be okay. Tomorrow he will be sober and apologize.

But tonight, instead of leaving me on the ground he starts down the hallway.

I only endure this for her. A girl needs her dad. I sure did growing up. But this? My dad would have never laid a hand on me. I never knew if that was because he wasn’t that sort of man, or if it was because my mother was in the same situation as me but just dealt with it better.

I can’t let him get to Liz.

I would rather die.

I lunge forward, my hands catching the pants leg of his jeans and holding on with everything that I have. He starts to drag me along with him, scraping my body against the carpet as the buttons on my blouse catch and rip open from the friction – I’m going to be covered in carpet burn in the worst of places, but I can’t let go. I can’t.

“Bitch!” Billy yells at me as the foot that I’m clinging to catches, and down he goes. He hits the ground so hard I swear that the whole house shakes. But now he’s mad enough at me that he’s going to forget about our girl, who is likely still crying in her room. That’s all that matters. He just needs to leave her alone.

He scrambles over the carpet to me and crawls on top of me. I slap, hit, and bite every inch of him that I can to at least try to be on the offensive. He grabs hold of my wrists so tightly I swear my bones bark in protest as he pins my arms down on the carpet. He bends forward and bites the first bit of exposed flesh that he can get his teeth on – the swell of my breast. Hard enough that I know he broke skin. I know it. Blinding pain sears through me as I buck and kick and scream and cry.

His fist finds my gut, then my ribs. Never the face, of course, not unless he’s really out of his mind. That’s only happened twice. The slap alone is going to be hard enough to cover up for work tomorrow.

All of my breath whooshes out of me in a wheezed rattle and the fight leaves me. How can it not? It’s not like I could actually win against him. He’s more than twice my size. Fighting for oxygen, Billy sits back, trapping me under his weight and making it just that much harder to breathe.

“You done now?” Billy smirks and grasps my jaw in his hand. There will be bruises from his fingertips. I can already feel them forming. “Sometimes I think you must like it when I get rough with you. You know how stupid it is to fight back, dirty bitch.”

I don’t talk back this time. I know it’s pointless now. Besides, Liz is safe in her room, he won’t touch her now.

“Much better. Now, be a good girl and go touch up your makeup. You look fucking revolting.” Billy smirks and lets go of me roughly. He pushes off me, rolling back through his heels until he’s standing over me.

I know better than to try to stand.

Crying silently, I roll through the pain onto my hands and knees, crawling slowly through the agony that’s building in my ribs. I hope he didn’t break anything. I don’t look back over my shoulder, but I can feel him following me.

“Leave the door open,” he commands as I finally reach the sink and to struggle to my feet. He’s right. I’m revolting. My face is swollen and my makeup is ruined. I grab my makeup wipes and clean my face as carefully as I can. Only then do I dare glance at the reflection of the man watching me so intently from the mirror.

How is this my life?

How did I let this happen? Why am I not strong enough to stop him? I can’t keep doing this.

Even as a fresh tear rolls down my face, I push it away with my hands as I start to apply more makeup to cover the damage he’s done.

“See? It’s much better when you know your place, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” I answer meekly. The adrenaline has left me and all that I’m left with now is exhaustion.

“Hurry up now. I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”

***

Everything hurts.

More than hurts.

I don’t think I’ve ever had this many bruises before. I think I might need to actually go to a hospital this time. But I don’t have time. Who knows how long he’s going to be asleep. I have to do this now. I can’t let another day like this pass. I can’t. I can’t do it. I could endure it if it meant Liz would grow up with a loving dad, but he hit her too. I can’t let him hit her ever again.

I bite on my lip so hard that it bleeds as I slip from bed to keep from crying. Again, when I pull on the softest pair of sweatpants that I own. I leave my phone. I don’t want him finding me. I take my laptop and slide it into my bag. I pull a loose hoodie over my head and tie my hair up in a messy bun. Only the heirloom jewelry that I entered this marriage with and all the cash that I have saved up. I don’t want to risk trying to take another single fucking thing. It’s going to be hard enough to lift my daughter as it is, when I’m almost positive that he’s broken at least two of my ribs.

I can’t let that stop me now.

I can do this.

In an hour, I’m going to be far, far away from this house of horrors. I can do this. I’m going to be free. Liz won’t grow up thinking that this is okay. I will change that generational curse and I will do better. I swear that I will.

I slip into her room silently, grabbing her shoes and most beloved stuffed animals and shoving them into my purse. I take only a single change of clothes for her to wear tomorrow and stuff that into my purse too. The bag is getting heavy enough that it’s cutting into my shoulders. I bend and scoop her up, still sleeping, blankets and all into my arms. I sway and rock her the best that I can as I silently move through the living room toward the front door.

I jump at shadows and every single sound until I have Liz safely asleep in her car seat in the back of my modest car and slide into the driver’s seat. Moving hurts. I can do this. I can overcome this. I have to. I lock the doors and slowly slide out of the driveway and I don’t breathe again until I’m on the interstate.

I glance at the back seat at my daughter, my whole reason for living, for fighting.

I make a silent vow to her and to myself.

Never again.

Chapter Two

Kate

Present Day

Perhaps the very best thing about divorcing a psychopathic monster is that the experience makes you feel like you can survive absolutely anything.

At the beginning of my career, I used to be scared of coming to the high security prisons like this. I was worried that one of these criminals might find me, and ruin my life. I was constantly worried that somehow, one of them was going to hurt me. Now? I dare them to try. Touch me at your own peril. I know that some of them may see it as a challenge, but I no longer care.

I’m not the meek woman that I once was.

The meeting that I’m headed to today would have made me pause before. But in the last four months at my present firm, I’ve made a reputation for myself. They call me the barracuda. I’m frightening because I’m the very best at what I do. Which is why I’ve been hired to take on the case that absolutely nobody else would touch. Nikolai Volkovich – murderer, former Bratva leader, human trafficker and drug lord. Just to name a few of his former titles. But now? He’s a leashed little cat, harmless as a kitten. Just like all the rest of the poor bastards in this particular high security prison.

My heels click softly on the concrete as I head inside with my chin held high.

I feel the vibrating of my phone in my pocket. I truly do. I recite case details to myself in my head, I try to ignore the fact that my ex-husband has apparently found my new cell phone number and presumably my location. Billy may want me to go back to him badly but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to do it.

I know what the texts are bound to say anyway.

He wants me back. He can’t live without me. How dare I steal his daughter from him and break up our family. If he’s feeling particularly sad, he might be on a rant about how selfish I am. The messages can be anywhere from sweet and adoring to downright menacing. Very on brand for my ex-husband. Good to know that the six months that we have been apart have resulted in no personal growth for him.

It was the opposite for me.

I didn’t realize how desperately I needed freedom for Liz and myself until I had it.

I won’t let that go for anybody.

Never again.

“Ms. Thorne?” The guard beside the gate addresses me with a polite wave and a bow. I smile kindly at him, although I rarely manifest warmth these days. I think I left that behind in my marriage as well. Billy took all the parts of me that were good and light, and he beat them out of me. What’s left? A cruel, business-minded bitch unless I’m dealing with my daughter. I like it that way. I wear my reputation like armor.

I hold up my badge, identifying me and the firm that I work for instead of answering.

The guard’s smile falters and he ushers me inside of the gate quickly. He leads me through the prison slowly, stopping at various security checkpoints. I pointedly ignore all the cat calls and jeers from the inmates that we pass along the way, savoring the fact that they know I’m free and that they will rot behind these bars. Normally, once one enters this particular prison, there is no parole, there is no leaving.

If it weren’t for a very specific addendum in my own contract with Alek, I wouldn’t be here either.

But my new employer has offered me something that I covet, something that I cannot obtain on my own and I know for a fact that he can provide. In addition to generous financial compensation, he’s promised protection for me and Liz. Lifetime protection. Nobody will ever lay a finger on us again.

The guard stops in front of a small square room. No observation windows. Just a table that’s been welded to the floor and two chairs. One of which is also welded into place, for my protection of course. The prisoner inside will have their hands cuffed to the table and their feet chained to the floor. Their waist will be secured to the chair that they sit in. The man will not be able to so much as stand without permission, and he certainly will not be able to touch me. I don’t think that I would have taken this meeting in person otherwise.

“The room is equipped with no microphones, for client and attorney privilege, in accordance with all laws. But there is a live camera feed for your protection. That’s just protocol.” The guard explains. “You will have fifteen minutes with the prisoner, and after that time the light above the exit door will sound an alarm and blink red. Thirty seconds after that and I will enter the room and escort you back out again. Any questions?”

I don’t bother answering. I already knew all of that.

Besides, Alek assured me that the camera feeds would be turned off, thanks to one of his more technologically savvy men. Mr. Volkovich and I will have utter privacy for the next fifteen minutes.

Alek also warned me at great length of all the violent things that Mr. Volkovich is capable of. If it weren’t for that deal I made with Alek, the man who hired me, I would put Nikolai into the dirt myself for the things that he’s done. Heinous, despicable things. I understand better than almost anyone why a woman would need to get divorced from a monster like him at all costs. I know what I’m walking into. I’m prepared.

I certainly did not come unarmed.

The guards missed my ceramic pocketknife and taser – just like Alek promised they would – in case Nikolai pulls anything stupid. I had considered the pepper spray, but that might have caused more harm to him than I could explain away easily. I can’t afford to have any negative reports about this meeting. Not if I’m going to get what I want.

“Ready?” The guard asks.

I nod, holding my attaché case in front of my body as he opens the door and waves me inside. I keep my head held high as I saunter into the room, heels clicking. However, the man at the table isn’t at all what I had thought he was going to be.

The Nikolai Volkovich that had been described to me was supposed to be larger than life. He was supposed to be akin to the boogeyman who haunted children’s nightmares. The man in front of me might have been that once, but the life appears to have been sucked out of him.

I can tell from his frame that he’s in incredible shape. He hasn’t lost any muscle tone, but he’s certainly sicklier and paler than described. His hair isn’t as short as it was in the mug shot that I was given, and the stubble across his chiseled jaw doesn’t look natural on his face. He looks… haggard. A dangerous sort of devilishly handsome. Given the nature of this prison, I’m not wholly surprised. I’m sure that there’s a great deal of people in here that would love nothing more than to have his guts for garters. No wonder he’s been so willing to cooperate with everything that I’ve requested of him thus far. He must want out of here something fierce.

Even still, I don’t want to come within five feet of him.

But I don’t have a choice.

His soulless black eyes track my every movement as I cross the room and delicately slide into the metal chair provided for me. His posture is nearly relaxed. There are no lines of tension in his shoulders and his bound hands are uncurled. Like a lion in wait. He’s taking my measure, I’m certain of it. I cross my legs at the ankles, ignoring the way that I can feel his eyes raking over my body. I’m dressed fairly modestly today, despite the tailored cut of my outfit. Pencil skirt and blazer, emerald green silk blouse tucked into my skirt. Modest, natural makeup suits me best when I have to bother with it at all. I don’t like what a lot of makeup on my face tends to trigger within me, so If I can avoid it now, I do.

“Are you my birthday present?” Nikolai asks, his thick Russian accent curling around the words to make such a simple statement sound utterly filthy.

Chauvinistic pig.

“I am your attorney.” I answer flatly as I pull out a legal pad and a pen. I click it pointedly and train my hand in a writing position before I deign to grace him with a look. “I was under the impression that you were the one who requested this meeting.”

Nikolai’s tongue presses into the top of his mouth. I see the exact moment that his attention dips to my breasts. I am tempted to throw my pen at his damned head, but he would likely use it as a weapon somehow. A man like him? With his reputation? You never can be too careful.

He slowly eases back into his chair and shrugs a shoulder. “Can’t blame a man for hoping.”

I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed a man be quite so comfortable in his damned skin. Even now that he’s a shadow of his former glory, I can easily see why so many women fall for him. Visually, he’s damned attractive. He’s got every bad boy aesthetic in the world going for him. Tall, muscled, jawline that you want to ride, perfect hands and tattoos covering most of his exposed skin. I have absolutely no doubt that if I were to crawl over this table and straddle him, that he would give me the most mind-blowing orgasms that I’ve ever had. Sometimes you can just see it in a man.

But unfortunately for him, I’m not like the other women whose lives he’s ruined.

He’s not going to benefit from the fact that my own trauma has ensured that I need that sort of man to get off. I have plenty of other options for that.

“I assure you, Mr. Volkovich, that this will be an entirely professional exchange between us. I will not allow a conflict of interest to jeopardize my case, or my perfect track records.” I say plainly, but I can’t help but smirk at the end. “I’m sure it is surprising to you, that a woman could keep from dropping her panties at the mere sight of you, but I’m sure you will live.”

The corner of Nikolai’s lip quirks up. I can see the exact moment that he takes the challenge that I’ve presented for him.

Maybe I’m a bit of a sadist. Maybe I do like the violence his gaze promises.

Nikolai leans forward in his metal chair, the chains around his body clinking softly as he narrows his focus down on me. “I know the cameras are off, are you sure that that you don’t want to give me a little present?”

My nose wrinkles in distaste. The only thing that I’m likely to give him is a swift kick in the balls if he doesn’t stop coming on to me. I keep my face stern and disinterested despite the hungry look he’s giving me. I’ve handled myself against worse. “Mr. Volkovich, if you aren’t going to take my counsel seriously, then why am I even here?”

Nikolai grins and it transforms his whole expression into something that nearly takes my breath away. I have to cross and re-cross my legs under the table under the intensity of his expression. It’s not joy, not at all. It’s something sinister, but alluring. He was testing me. I can see it. He notices the moment that I catch on, too.

“Can’t be represented by somebody so easily swayed, now can I?” Nikolai shrugs.

“And if I had said yes?”

Nikolai shrugs a shoulder away and feigns an innocent expression. “Win win for me then.”

“How about we stick to business, Mr. Volkovich?” I pull the paperwork that I have come here to have him sign from my bag. I pointedly ignore the way my phone vibrates in my bag, the screen illuminating every few moments from the barrage of texts and calls that I’m getting. I don’t know how that bastard Billy keeps calling despite me blocking his number every time. I have changed my number three times already and he just keeps finding me. I take a calming breath and place the neatly organized paperwork on the table in front of Nikolai. “As I was saying–”

He cuts me off and looks at my bag. “Something the matter?”

“No, nothing. Thank you for asking.”

“That’s twice today that you’ve lied to me, and I’m supposed to trust you to represent me?”

He wants me to ask him what it is that I’ve lied about. I’m not going to play into his little games. “I don’t think you have much of a choice, do you? Seeing as I’m the only lawyer on this continent willing to represent you, let alone woman.”

The muscle in his sharp jawline ticks. He knows that I’m right.

Now it’s my turn to smirk.

I tilt my head to the side and bat my long lashes at him pointedly. “You do know that it’s greatly beneficial for a woman to have been assigned your case, don’t you? I would think that instead of sitting here testing me when I’ve more than earned my reputation, you should be attempting to convince me that you’re a man worth saving. I am the last thing between you and the death penalty. Your smart mouth won’t stop that poison from being injected into your veins. Will it, Mr. Volkovich?”

Sitting before me is a man that has been in control of every single aspect and person in his life for a very long time. Nothing happened in his Bratva without his permission. Nobody moved an inch without his say so. Being helpless here and at the mercy of a petite blonde woman? It’s got to be driving him absolutely mad.

I tuck my ankles under the chair and lean forward. I make sure that the angle of my arms pushes my cleavage up for his perusal and lean into the airheaded bimbo act that so many men like to think that I am. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You can sit there and think of all of the ways that you would handle a woman like me. You can imagine bending me over this table and hate-fucking me all you want. Whatever you need to do in order to sleep at night, Mr. Vokovich. But it will do nothing to change the facts here. I have you by the balls in all of the ways that you don’t want. If you don’t start doing exactly as I say, when I say it, then it’s not going to work very well for you. Understand, pumpkin?” I wink at him for good measure before sliding the papers toward him with the ballpoint pen. “Be a good boy and sign these papers for me so that I can do my job. Then, when you’re breathing free air again, we can see whose dick is really bigger. Mine or yours.”

I’ve got him. We both know it.

I ease back into my chair as he stews in his anger. He has to let me talk to him however I want. He’s helpless. I don’t think he’s ever had to sit with that particular emotion before in his life. I’m happy to be the one to cause the feeling. Nikolai takes the pen, clicking it angrily while he scowls. I won’t even try to deny the thrill of feeling powerful over a man like Nikolai as he signs page after marked page. When he’s finished, he flicks the papers toward me and I take them with a saccharine sweet smile. “Good boy.”

Nikolai’s grin widens into something bordering on feral. The lack of emotion shining back at me through those black eyes almost makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Somewhere deep in me awakens a very real and primal urge to run from him. Nobody with a soul can look like that.

Dammit if it isn’t fucking sexy though.

I stand on my side of the table, frozen, as his tongue wets his lips before he speaks.

“For the record, mine’s going to be bigger.”

I sure hope it is.

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