Marrying My Best Friend's Sister: A Billionaire Enemies to Lovers MC Romance (Secret Love)

by Nikki Bloom

  Even without that, I wasn’t really the person to take money to sell someone out. Not even my worst enemy, let alone my husband.

  He got hold of my wrists and held them in one hand. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “How can you say that to me?” I couldn’t stop the lone tear that rolled down my face.

  He blinked at me, then blinked again. “How could you do that to me?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “But you were thinking about it.”

  “No.”

  “Then what was that talk you were having with Chaz?”

  “It was… I just…” Words honestly failed me. My eyes fell on his watch which clearly showed that I had thirty minutes to get to work. “I can’t talk about this now. I have to go.”

  He let go of my wrists, his face closing up. “Fine. I’m going. See ya.” He pushed past me and walked out, anger in every step. I opened my mouth to call after him but closed it again. There was nothing I could say that would pacify him and I didn’t have the energy for it anyway. Quickly grabbing the bag he’d brought, I rushed to the bedroom to get changed.

  Dom had thoughtfully provided not just one of my new dresses but also underwear and a bag of toiletries. I got changed and left, trying to get my head straight. I arrived at work with ten minutes to spare since I’d skipped breakfast. I hurried over to the lab to pick up some papers for reference should anyone have any queries, then went down to the conference room where the meeting would occur. Both Danna and I would be informed of the outcome of the meeting via email, but sometimes they wanted clarifications on something or another.

  It was down to the wire, just the two of us remaining after two years of longlists and shortlists. My hands were shaking and I didn’t know if it was the adrenaline of the moment or my fight with Dom.

  My phone dinged just as the clock struck eight and I dug it out of my pocket.

  Good luck today.

  I stared at the text, blinking my eyes to get the moisture out. Despite our misunderstandings, Dom had bothered to let me know he was rooting for me. I resolved there and then to go back home and fix this; whatever this misunderstanding was.

  Hitting reply, I texted a thanks together with a smiling emoji before slipping my phone back in my pocket. I sat up straighter, feeling more optimistic about everything all of a sudden.

  Locking the door behind me, I leaned on it and closed my eyes. I breathed in and out, fighting the tears. I knew it had been a long shot, but somehow, I had thought it would work. Danna had taken the opportunity to crow of course, the things she’d said… I worked hard not to believe it, but it was hard.

  ‘I saw your hubby last night at the Red Lounge. He seemed really interested in me. Looks like I got the grant and your husband. How does it feel?’

  I tried to thrust the words away, but they seemed to burn deeper and deeper into my skin. If Dom had thought I betrayed him, could he have…? Just the thought of it was a burning stake to my heart.

  I’d begged off the rest of the day, unable to work. Everyone thought it was because I’d lost the grant and nobody tried to stop me. I went back to Brooklyn because I needed to fall apart in privacy and peace. I needed to think about what it meant if Dom had betrayed me with…that woman, and what I would do about it.

  Suddenly there was a loud banging on the door, hard enough to cause me to shudder against it. I furrowed my brow in annoyance, straightening up in anger, so I could turn around and unlatch the door.

  “What do you-” I began to say before a huge fist hurtled towards me and punched me in the jaw. I stumbled backwards in shock, for a moment lost in déjà vu. It wasn’t the first time I’d been sucker punched after all. That was one of Eugene’s favorite moves.

  I opened my mouth to scream for help, but he punched me again and I went down.

  19

  Domenic

  I buried myself in work, even avoiding Morgan as I tried to get some equilibrium. Every time I thought I’d managed, Nico’s stammering words would come back to me and I was back at square one. I’d managed to go so many years without letting anyone close enough to hurt me. It hadn’t even been a choice, just something that happened naturally.

  Nico slipped through my barriers so effortlessly that I didn’t even notice. My body did not recognize her as a threat, which was extremely stupid of me. If my own mother could betray me over and over, who was I to think that anyone else would have my back?

  Morgan stepped into my office and closed the door behind him. He leaned against it, watching me grimly.

  “What’s happening?” he asked.

  I lifted my eyebrows at the non-sequitur. “Huh?”

  He straightened up from the doorway and walked towards me. “What is happening between you and my sister?”

  I smirked, leaning back in my seat. “Now, Morgan, marriage should be between a man and a woman. Not a man, a woman, and her brother.”

  “I haven’t been able to get a hold of her all day and apartment footage shows her leaving at 3:25 a.m. this morning. So again, I ask, what is going on?”

  I sighed, shaking my head. “You check apartment footage daily?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes. Stop avoiding the question. What’s going on?” He leaned against my desk, looming over me.

  I closed my eyes, as my shoulders slumped. “We had a fight. She went to her place in Brooklyn.”

  “I thought it was essentially empty.” I could hear the frown in his voice.

  “Yeah, well.” I shrugged. I didn’t have to say she was upset; he could deduce that on his own.

  “Okay, but why would she not answer my calls?” He sounded pensive now and I opened my eyes.

  “She had that meeting today with the grant committee.”

  “Exactly. So shouldn’t she want to like to share what happened?”

  I shook my head. “Maybe it went sideways.”

  He sighed. “Well, I’m not willing to wait around to find out. I’m gonna go over there and see if she’s okay.”

  “She’s probably at work.”

  “No, she isn’t. I talked to her office-mate. She left at noon, said she wasn’t feeling well.”

  That got my attention. “So maybe she’s at home?”

  Morgan shook his head. “Nobody’s been to the apartment all day apart from the cleaner.”

  “Damn.” I got to my feet. “Maybe we should go and look for her.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Ya think?”

  I huffed as I slipped out from behind my desk. “Let’s go.”

  We took the SUV. Morgan used his defensive driving skills to fast and furious us over to Brooklyn. By the time we got there, I’d gone from pissed to worried. I knew that Morgan and Nico were very good about keeping in touch. She wouldn’t just ignore him for no reason.

  When we got to her apartment, I raised my hand to knock on the door, but it swung open as soon as I touched it. Me and Morgan exchanged glances and then he reached into his holster and removed his gun. I let him precede me, hands out, ready for a fight.

  We walked slowly into the house, looking around carefully for clues. Nico’s bag and her laptop sat by the door as if she’d put them there when she came in. There was an overturned table in the living room and there were two red drops on the floor of the foyer.

  Morgan squatted down and scraped at it, before sniffing. “Definitely blood. And not spilled too long ago.”

  Our eyes met in mutual trepidation as he rose to his full height. “What’s the plan?”

  He got to his feet and pulled out his phone. “Let me see if I can trace her phone.”

  Suddenly the door burst open. “Oh, thank God you’re here. I did not have your number and was just getting ready to come track you down.”

  I turned to see the lawyer, Chaz, bustling into the apartment.

  “I really didn’t know what to do. Even considered calling the police, but there was really no demonstrable foul play to speak of, so what was I gonna say? My former neighbor was dr
agged away by some biker looking dudes?” He shook his head as he wrung his hands. “They’d just tell me to wait 24 hours before reporting her missing.”

  Morgan reached out and grasped the man’s arm even as I collared him. “What did you just say? Nico was dragged away?”

  “Well, not really. It looked like they were just walking her along really fast, but her feet weren’t actually dragging on the floor. Ugh, what am I saying? That doesn’t matter. Nico’s been abducted!”

  It was hard to think over the loud pounding in my ears that I felt was my heart trying to leave my body. “Can you describe these men?” Morgan said much more calmly than I was.

  “Big, ugly, long hair, tattoos.” Chaz shuddered delicately. “Unwashed.”

  “That’s not very helpful, man,” Morgan complained. I stepped in front of him.

  “Wait. You said they were dressed as bikers, which means they had patches. Did you happen to read those?”

  Chaz shook his head. “No. But their jackets were black with blue stripes and white stars.”

  Morgan and I exchanged glances again. We both recognized the description. Those were the Satanists. “Why would they take her?” he asked me.

  “I suggest we go and find out.”

  Chaz drew a deep breath. “I agree. I’ll just get my jacket.”

  “Whoa, wait. Where do you think you’re going?”

  Chaz turned around looking incredulous. “I’m coming with.”

  I gaped at him incredulously. “No, you are not.”

  He actually put his hands on his hips, gazing at me with attitude. “She’s my friend too. I’m coming…with.” With that he flounced off to his apartment, presumably to get a jacket. I sighed, shaking my head at Morgan. He almost snorted at me but seemed to remember halfway that his sister was kidnapped and stopped. Instead, he got back to trying to trace Nico’s phone.

  “Come on, let’s get going.”

  We closed the door carefully behind us and locked it before we headed down back to the car. Before we were halfway, Chaz came running up to join us. We got in the SUV and drove to Queens, parking opposite the car park. Everything seemed quiet, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. They could be doing all sorts of thing to her in there.

  Chaz leaned forward, poking his head between us. “Now what?”

  “We need to get eyes in there,” Morgan said. “I’ve called some people.”

  “Can we afford to wait that long?” Chaz asked.

  At that, I opened the door and got out of the car, striding across the street before anyone could stop me.

  “Dom!” I ignored Morgan’s shout as I walked determinedly into the bar. A few probies were sweeping up and two or three members were drinking at the bar. One was tall and burly, while the other two were shorter, wiry. One had a bald head full of tattoos, while the other had curly hair and looked like a young Paul Walker.

  I walked right up to them and leaned against the bar. Wasn’t surprised to see Morgan looming in the doorway. Chaz hovering behind him was a bit more of a surprise.

  “Hey.” I gave the bikers a nod.

  They both eyeballed me, taking in my blue Armani suit, grey silk shirt, and the Rolex on my wrist. “You lost?” the burly one asked.

  I fixed my eyes on him. “No, I’m not. But I think you have something that belongs to me.”

  Burly guy got to his feet tried to loom over me. Unfortunately for him, I was slightly taller than him. “Is that right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “My wife.”

  “Whoa!” tattoo guy exclaimed, raising his hands. “We’re not that kind of club.”

  I spread my hands out, palms up. “And yet…here we are.”

  “Do you have proof of these…allegations?” the curly-haired dude asked.

  Morgan stepped forward. “Yes, we do. We traced her here.”

  I didn’t know if that was true or not and I didn’t want to look at Morgan to confirm it lest it alert them that he might be bluffing. So I just quirked my eyebrow at Curly, as I now dubbed him. He looked around exaggeratedly. “Hey, Tiny, you see any whores in here?”

  I didn’t even think about it. My fist was flying to his face even before he’d gotten the whole word out. I knew it was a mistake even as I did it, but I couldn’t stop myself. His nose erupted in a bleed and he snarled, rushing at me. I readied myself for a brawl, hoping Chaz would take advantage of the distraction to find Nico.

  But Morgan stepped between us, holding Curly back. “Whoa, alright, alright. Emotions are high and people are upset, but let’s not do this, okay? We’re all brothers in the patch. Can we talk?”

  Curly snorted. “Y’all are patches? Pull the other one.”

  “New Orleans Lost Boys,” Morgan said instantly.

  “Nooo, really?” Curly looked impressed.

  “Yeah, really.” Curly looked from Morgan’s all-black ensemble to my own designer gorgeousness and smirked.

  “If you say so.”

  “So, now that we have that established, can we begin again? Where’s the girl?”

  Curly shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean…Rooster n’em went out earlier and came back with some girl, but…”

  I stepped closer to him even as Morgan tried to keep me away. “Where is she?”

  He gave me an arrogant look. “Probably fucked six ways from Sunday by now.”

  I lunged at him and Morgan held me back, his muscles bulging with effort. Curly laughed. “Hey, you have a complaint, you know what to do. That is, if you’re really bikers.” He turned and strolled away, and I gnashed my teeth.

  “Now what?” Chaz appeared suddenly on my flank and I jerked with surprise.

  “We need Tank,” Morgan said and met my eyes. He knew what calling in Tank would mean for both of us and judging by the doubt in his eyes, he was wondering if I was willing to pay that price.

  “Call him,” I said quietly.

  Three men walked into the bar, and Morgan nodded to them. They came over and I recognized them as members of Morgan’s security team. They nodded to me with respect but immediately turned to Morgan. “Building’s surrounded; no one will get in or out without our knowledge. We traced Mrs. Cliff’s phone to this street.” He held out something in his hand. “Found it in a dumpster two buildings over.”

  Morgan and I exchanged glances.

  “We’re setting up surveillance equipment. We should know how many bodies are in the building in an hour or two.”

  “Anything could be happening to her in the meantime,” I whispered.

  “We’ll get Tank to open negotiations and guarantee her safety.” Morgan had already dialed the number. I nodded.

  “Do it.”

  I sat back, closing my eyes, and tried not to freak out too obviously. I wanted to level the building, take out everyone who had ever hurt her. I didn’t want to think about how she must be feeling. What she must be enduring. I couldn’t go crazy – Nico needed me.

  20

  Nicolette

  I came to my senses, to find myself lying on a strange bed in a tiny windowless room. I blinked a few times, putting a hand to my throbbing head and tried to figure out what was going on. Slowly, the details came back to me.

  It had been Rooster, the biker I’d met that fateful night, who’d punched me out and then dragged me out of my apartment like this was Russia or some shit. I opened my mouth to scream, to shout for help, but he put a switchblade to my ribs and told me I’d be dead before anyone even noticed. This is New York after all. People mind their business.

  They bundled me in the back seat of a black SUV, forcing me to lie on the floor before taking off. It was all so surreal, like a movie. I wondered if maybe I’d fallen asleep on the couch and was dreaming.

  But waking up in a strange room I’d never seen before pretty much let me know that it was all real. I didn’t even know how much time had passed since I’d been taken.

  Did I pass out?

  I could
n’t remember and that was concerning. I closed my eyes, listening to my body, trying to determine whether I’d been…interfered with in any way. I had no unfamiliar aches and pains, and my clothes were all in the right place, so I had to believe that whatever they used to subdue me wasn’t in order to rape me.

  At least…not yet.

  The door opened and I tensed, relaxing only when I saw that it was a woman holding a plate of sandwiches. She put it down on the table, together with a bottle of water, before walking out without saying a word to me.

  Wait…am I a hostage? I’ve seen this movie.

  Maybe I’d misjudged things. After all, I was now Mrs. Domenic Cliff. Maybe they wanted a ransom.

  Which means they’ll get in touch with Dom. But can I just sit here and wait for that?

  I began to look around, for some kind of weapon, maybe an escape route. The room was pretty basic: a single bed covered with a striped red and white duvet, and a single pillow. There was a single table, a wardrobe, and a picture on the wall of some has-been rock star with a guitar. The floor was dusty as if it wasn’t swept much and there was a pair of boots in the corner and a bunch of clothes on a chair near the corner.

  I crossed over to the chair, examining its legs to see if I could break them off, maybe use them for a weapon even as my anxiety threw up extreme doubt about my ability to escape. I pushed the clothes to the floor and turned the chair over, kicking one of its legs as hard as I could.

  It was a sturdy chair, didn’t even crack, although my foot certainly felt the impact. Then I sat back, feeling like an idiot. I didn’t have to break off a chair leg when I could just use the whole chair. I picked it up, crossing over to the table, and put it down. I sat down, picking up my sandwich and ate it slowly, hoping like hell that it wasn’t drugged.

  I examined the bottle of water for any holes, but it seemed legit, so I unscrewed the top and took a cautious sip. Feeling much better afterwards, I decided that as soon as the lady came back to get the plate, I was gonna kick her ass and escape. I could hear the faint beat of music pounding the walls.