by Nina Levine
And that—that is dangerous.
Because he has the power to do it again.
Shoveling a perfectly pink macaron into my mouth, I sink into my chair feeling the deflation of King leaving. The reality settles in—the heaviness of the situation I now find myself in.
My father is trying to arrange a marriage to Hunter McHale—arrogant asshole extraordinaire.
Titus King, my ex, is back on the scene, willing and ready to tear me apart—again.
I need a fucking miracle to save me.
Because Lord knows, I probably won’t be able to save myself from whatever is coming my way.
After eating as much as I could, I made my way home. Heading inside then up to my bedroom, it’s exactly as it was when I lived here as a teenager. The pale pink walls do not represent my favorite color now—the theme spreading across the entire vast space. My giant king-size bed is draped in plush pillows—the headboard lining the wall almost to the ceiling with velvet tufts. The chandelier in the middle of the room I used to think was amazing as a child, now I just think is tacky. Opposite my bed is a giant built-in desk with a bookcase. It was great for schoolwork, but honestly, it was just another place for the maids to clean. My oversized pink chair with gold studs sits on the other side of the room with my unicorn stuffed toys, which I have barely looked at, let alone played with, for years.
The bench seat under the massive bay window, however, is my fondest memory of this room. It’s where I spent most of my childhood years with Jovie, being bratty girls, talking about boys but mostly about King and how much I was crushing on him.
Then later it was spent making out with King.
Then more.
Much, much more.
Walking over to the bench seat, I fluff the cushions before sitting down, throwing my legs up like I have done countless times before, and peer out the window to the beautiful day outside. I need to call Jovie back—I hung up on her abruptly. She’s going to be wondering what’s going on. So, I pull out my cell, scrolling to my recently called numbers and hitting hers.
“Twice in one day. Anyone would assume you’re having withdrawals,” she mocks.
I can’t hold it in.
I wanted to ease into it.
But it just comes blurting out. “I saw King.”
“What? Where? When? Is that why you hung up on me?” The concern in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Yeah. At the patisserie. He saw me and came over.”
“And you told him to go to hell, then punched him in his junk, right?”
She’s serious.
I hesitate as my muscles tense. “I gave him my phone number and giggled. Goddammit! I giggled like a damn fool, Jovie.”
She’s quiet. I understand what that silence means. She’s disappointed. We made plans. We thought this day might come where I would see King again. We had this whole strategy where I would punch him and tell him how much he hurt me.
It all flew out the window the second I saw his eyes.
God, those eyes.
“You’re mad…” It’s not a question. It is an observation.
She exhales. “No. I know how much you adored him. I’m just worried you’ll fall into the same trap. You were on a penis pause when you left the clubhouse. What happened to that?”
“I’m only going to catch up with King to reminisce about old times, not fuck his brains out.”
“Mm-hmm!”
“I’m not! And anyway, even if I wanted to, he probably doesn’t. So it’s a non-issue.”
“Sav, please tread carefully. I’m not there to help you if shit backfires. You’re already fragile because of your mom.”
“Jovie, I love you, but honestly, King is nothing to worry about. I have it handled.”
“Just know… I say this shit because I love you.”
“I love you, too. I gotta go. Tell Kevlar and the kids I say hi.” I end the call feeling deflated and like maybe Jovie is right.
Maybe King is history for a reason.
Because let’s face it, the past should stay in the past.
Hunter
A Few Days Later
I’ve been working on a proposal I believe will help the families merge, but I’m not sure how it will all turn out in the end if Savanah doesn’t get on board. The merger of the businesses is a complete front. What she doesn’t know is what her father actually is, or more importantly, who.
Her father has kept his ‘other’ life hidden. She thinks their family is wealthy from François being a French mogul. In actual fact, he holds a high position in the Le Milieu, also known as the French Mob. His ties with my family go back decades.
My family moved here when I was young from Ireland to head up the San Antonio branch of the Irish Mob. But for our families to make our union official and our organizations to merge, an amalgamation must take place. Savanah is the middle child, but the first-born daughter of the Del Rey’s, and as such, she is destined to merger with the first-born son of the McHale’s. It was written into the sanctioned laws years ago, but Savanah was never told about this life her family is a part of. Her older brother, Christian, is deep into the family business. He will take the place of François when the time comes. But Savanah, she is the princess of this entire kingdom. She can’t even comprehend the power she holds.
François did the wrong thing keeping the life from her for this long. I can already tell from the fire lighting her eyes she’s a fighter, a firecracker, easily built for life at the head of an empire. She’s a princess now, but she could be my queen if only she would let herself.
Making my way to the Del Rey front door, I knock twice. Straightening out my suit, I stand back waiting for the door to open. When it swings back, François bobs his head at me. His graying hair short on top matches the color of his eyes. His hardened face shows years of a tough life in the Le Milieu from making all the difficult decisions. But that’s what happens when you’re at the top.
“Good, you’re here. I need you to spend some time with Savanah. Get to know her, make her see you’re not the asshole you portray.”
“But I am an asshole.” I smirk.
François slaps my shoulder. “She doesn’t need to know that, Hunter. We need this to work. Our families coming together is what’s good for us both. Our countries united in the underworld… this would bring so much good. It would get deals through so much quicker. The merger of the McHale and Del Rey families will be huge news in the underground. People will fear us, Hunter, more than they already do.”
“I had the same exact speech from my father… believe me, I know what’s on the line. I understand, and I’ll make this happen, François. It would have been easier if you had fucking told Savanah about the family business long ago, though.”
François curls up his lip. “She respects me, Hunter. I didn’t want to tarnish the way my princess viewed me. You’ll understand when you have your own kids one day.”
Does he mean with Savanah?
I’m supposed to be marrying her, so I can only assume he’s already planning my children for me now, too. Sometimes being heir to a dynasty isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
“Where is Savanah?” I ask, trying to get away from this fucked-up conversation.
“In the living room with her mother.”
Bobbing my head once, I turn, making my way through the kitchen toward the living room. The muted hum of the television sounds through the room as I step in on the carpeted floor. A soap opera plays on the television. They’re heavily invested as a character is shot in a completely obscure way. I scoff, folding my arms over my chest, which gains their attention.
“It wouldn’t happen that way. Technically speaking, for the bullet to make it through so many obstacles, then hit the person square in the chest, that is near on impossible.”
Savanah snorts. “And like you’re some kind of criminal mastermind who knows the ins and outs of the trajectory of bullets better than the experts on television?”
&nbs
p; The fire in her is alluring. The way her wavy, dark brown hair sits perfectly at shoulder length. How her big doe eyes stare up at me through those long fucking lashes. Even the way her skin is a gorgeous shade mixed between the paleness of her father’s and the gorgeous chocolate of her mother’s. She’s stunning. What she lacks in manners, she well and truly makes up for in beauty and sass. This woman has fight in her. I have to admit it kind of turns me on the way she pushes me back.
Her mother, Elena, glances at me. She’s heard about my precision aim.
It’s quite the shame I can’t say shit about it to her daughter, so I can put her back in her place. “Maybe not, but these shows are farfetched.”
Savanah scoffs. “An arranged marriage to a man I don’t know for capital gain in this day and age is more farfetched… don’t you think?”
Fuck.
“Touché. Needless to say, I need to talk to you for a moment. Can we?” I gesture toward the rear door of the house.
Savanah groans in a huff. “Fine!” She stands, storms past me, her sassy attitude making my cock jerk a little in my pants.
She’s fire.
Hellfire.
And damn if she isn’t going to burn me alive.
We walk outside. Savanah moves to a porch swing, sitting down, marveling out over the vast backyard. The pristine grass and gorgeous trees make this an area where the Del Reys have hosted many parties. I move in, sitting beside her, my leg brushing hers. Heat rushes up the side of my leg as I sit back, trying to remain stoic. Any other time, any other way of meeting, this setting might be romantic. The sun sets in the distance over the blossoming peach trees, their pink flowers glowing in the radiance of the turquoise and orange descent of the day’s rays.
I’m not overly prepared for this, so I figure I’ll start with what I know. “I understand this marriage isn’t what you want—”
“You’re damn right! I don’t know you, Hunter,” she blasts me, her bright incandescent eyes meet mine.
“I want to change that. Can we get to know each other? Spend time before anyone makes any rash decisions?”
“Rash decisions? You and my father already made one by planning my wedding without my knowledge.”
“Sav, this wasn’t me. I was blindsided, too. It was our parents.” She widens her eyes. “Just come to terms with the fact there’s more at play here than business.”
“Like what?”
“It’s not my place to say. But, Sav, I do want to learn more about you. The real you. If you’ll give me a chance?”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then, I know where I stand.”
She turns away from me, staring out at the sunset. A peaceful quiet falls over us, she sighs, then turns back to me. “You were an asshole to me the other day.”
I grimace, dropping my chin to my chest. “And for that I apologize. I have this… image to uphold—”
“So, you’re not this macho-alpha-dick?”
I smirk. “I can be, when needed, but I’ll try to rein in my macho-alpha-dickness around you.”
Sav tries to hide her smile, but she fails. “Did you just say dickness?”
I sit back, relaxing my shoulders seeing her do the same. She’s finally opening up a little to this conversation. “I think I did.”
She turns to face me a little, seeming more engaged now. “Favorite sitcom?”
Okay, she is willing to try.
“The Sopranos.”
She bursts out laughing. The sound is music to my ears. “That’s not a sitcom. It’s a crime drama. No, something funny!”
“Right… okay, Dexter then.”
She widens her eyes. “Dexter as in the serial killer series? You find that funny?”
“It has some humor.”
She laughs again, seeming to relax a little now. “You have a real underworld crime vibe going on there, Hunter. You’re secretly not a psychopathic murderer, are you?”
I shrug. “Not secretly. I’m quite open about it, just your father wanted me to hide it from you.” She giggles, thinking I’m joking, which obviously I’m not.
“You’re funny. I wouldn’t have picked you to have a humorous side. You look serious… from what I’ve seen.”
“The job I’m in, you have to be serious most of the time.”
She turns back to the almost fading sunset. “Okay… favorite food?”
“Easy, cheese.”
She turns to face me, shock all over her face. “No, shit? I love cheese. The French have the best Brie.”
“No, you can’t go past Irish Cashel Blue—”
“Blue? You like blue cheese? I figured that would be far too mature for a man like you?”
“Oh, Savanah, you don’t know me at all.”
“All right, Mr. Blue, let’s take this up a notch. Quickfire round. Twenty questions, I’ll ask one, then you ask one.”
Maybe she’s warming up to me.
All I know is the fire she ignited in me earlier is smoldering damn hot right now.
I never expected to be attracted to her.
This was a merger—plain and simple.
But what if it could be more?
What if I can rule the underworld with a willing queen by my side?
Savanah
Hunter and I have been outside on the porch swing for what seems like hours. The thing is, I try like hell to be annoyed at him, but the more we talk, the easier our conversation flows. He is making it damn hard for me to hate him.
He glances down at his watch, letting out a groan. “It’s late. I should let you get to bed.”
Regret swarms through me, I don’t want him to go, and that thought shocks me. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’m enjoying this.”
His soft lips light up his gorgeous face when he smiles. He moves his hand to my knee, giving it a tender squeeze. Sparks tingle, making my breath catch as his amber-colored eyes meet mine. He exhales with regret. “I really should go. I have a little more work to finish tonight before I hit the hay.”
“Shit, of course. Sorry for keeping you.”
He scowls. “Don’t ever apologize for keeping me company, Sav. This was my honor. I hope we get to do it again sometime.”
“Me, too,”
“Night, Sav.”
“Night, Mr. Blue.”
He walks around the side of the house, I’m assuming, so he doesn’t wake anyone inside. A slow smile creeps up my face—I judged Hunter all wrong.
Suddenly my cell beeps. I shift my eyes down, seeing a text from King.
My heart flutters, and I open it hastily.
King: I’m in the area. You at your parents’ place still?
I furrow my brows but reply.
Me: Yeah, same place, same room. Why?
King: I’m coming. Be there soon ;)
My eyes widen as I furiously type back.
Me: King, it’s late. Maybe we can catch up tomorrow?
Nothing comes back. So, I stand and rush inside, making sure my bedroom is clean because I’m going to have to sneak King in here like I did when we were teenagers. I sit on my bed, tapping my foot anxiously for King to arrive. The roar of his Harley pulls up outside, and I smile. After being at the clubhouse for so long, I now see the appeal in bikes, and the attraction of King on one certainly is rewarding.
I fuss about with my clothing, making sure I appear okay before I make my way to the bedroom door to head to the front entry, but before I step out of my room, there’s a tapping on my window. I jump in fright but turn back to a shadow hovering at the glass. I giggle at how many times we’ve done this before—I should’ve known.
Quickly, I rush over to the window, push it open, and King is standing there—leather jacket, motorcycle helmet, smirk, and sexy as all fuck.
He winks. “It’s been a few years since we’ve done this.”
“You still manage to get past Dad’s security, even all these years later.”
He chuckles. “They have the same flaws in t
heir system as they did back then, Savvy. I always knew how to sneak into your room. There’s about a thirty-second window as they walk past the front door, where they can’t see the side, and I creep down…” He pauses. “So, you gonna let me in or make such a fuss that I get busted?”
“Just be quiet when you come in. Everyone’s asleep.”
He laughs. “I’m pretty sure that’s the exact same thing you used to say, too.”
I lean through the window, grabbing his leather jacket, and yank on it. “Shut up and get in here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He climbs through the window, not as smoothly as he once used to when he was a teen. He’s a lot bigger now, and also has a helmet in his hand as he pulls his second leg through, but it gets stuck on the ledge, and he collapses, rolling onto the bench seat then down onto the floor.
I burst out laughing as his helmet rolls along the floor while he sprawls out on his back, spread-eagle, staring up at me with nothing but a big grin on his face.
“Smooth, King, reeeal smooth.”
He grabs both my arms, yanking me down onto the floor with him. I let out a little squeal, but he catches me, supporting my fall as I roll in next to him.
“Falling for me again, Savvy?” he asks.
I snort out a huff. “You wish, cowboy. We have a perfectly good front door, you know?”
His lips turn up, so freaking cockily. “Yeah… I know.”
I stare up at the ceiling, trying to fight back my smile. “Jackass… so a motorbike, huh?”
“My Harley is my baby.”
My eyes droop, as a lump gets caught in my throat. “I was your baby once.”
King grabs my hand, linking our fingers together. “I’m sorry I left, Savvy.”
My lips fall as I let out a heavy exhale. “Why are you back?”
“Sometimes, you don’t understand what you lost until it’s right in front of you again.”
