The Devil's Daughter

by Ophelia Bell

  “I couldn’t tell you what your father’s worth, but I do know some of the antiquities he deals in are worth ten of those houses. Chances are the sole purpose of the one he owns is just to hold some of the art in his personal collection. I have to admire the guy for making the shift to art smuggling instead of drugs and guns, though. It’s still illegal, but at least nobody’s getting hurt.

  “You know the only way he’d do business with Typhon again was if I promised I’d never follow in my father’s footsteps. In fact, I hope to do exactly the opposite. Starting this week, I’m going to start donating money to charities that combat sex trafficking. I should’ve done it long ago, but my goals for the company were all about putting that behind me. After what happened to us, though, I can’t deny that it’s still a problem, even if Typhon isn’t facilitating it. It needs to stop.”

  “That’s a great idea. What if we start our own? When I graduate, I could run it.” A zing of excitement races through me at the thought of having something of my own that could truly make a difference in the world.

  “Tell you what, we’ll work on it together over the next two years so it’s ready to go when you’re ready to take it on. Until then, I think it’s time for you to go back to school, don’t you?”

  I flop down onto my back, jostling the puppy on my lap. She rouses and crawls up my belly to start licking my face. “Fine! I’m actually looking forward to it. But who will take care of these little cutie pies, huh?” I shift into baby-talk and glance at the twins with puppy-dog eyes.

  Ben cracks one eye and snorts. “I see how it is. Now that you no longer need bodyguards, we’re getting demoted to nannies.”

  “Who could say no to this little face?” I croon, holding Scylla up with both hands and flopping her little ears at him. She twists around and licks my nose.

  Ben rolls over and crawls to me, looming close until his nose hovers inches above mine. “This is the face I can’t say no to,” he says, then proceeds to swipe his tongue from my jaw to my temple.

  I twist around with a shriek, and the puppies go wild with the excitement of a new game. The twins tackle me, and the next thing I know, I’m being assaulted with tickles and obnoxious licks to my face. When the licks turn to nibbles on decidedly more sensitive parts of me, I force myself to call a halt to the fun.

  “Enough, guys. We don’t want to traumatize the kids.” I grin like a fool, though. This might be the best day of my life, even with the itchy, sore back from the final session of our tattoos. But I turn serious when all three guys look back at me with sober expressions. “What?”

  “We haven’t exactly talked about … um … kids. For real, I mean,” Baz says.

  “Well,” I say, sitting up and gathering my thoughts, which are only half-formed anyway. “There are probably a lot of things we haven’t discussed that we need to. One thing I’m positive I want, no matter what, is to be with the three of you. As long as that’s not changing, I’m open to whatever else comes our way. You guys are open to kids, right? I don’t expect them to happen soon. Ideally not for, like, ten years, at least. And if they never happen, that’s okay with me too.”

  Both twins relax. Ben lets out a heavy breath. “That’s a relief. That you’re happy to let things happen in their own time.”

  I turn and study Drake. “You’re older than us. What are your thoughts? Do you want a big family?”

  He reaches out and pulls me to him, hugging me close. “The four of us are more family than I’ve ever had. I’m in no hurry to add to it beyond a couple pets. Just promise me you won’t hold back if you ever want more, because there is nothing I wouldn’t do for the three of you. Got it?” He shifts his gaze between me and the twins.

  Both twins hold their fists over their hearts in a small salute and vow their honesty.

  I gaze up into Drake’s eyes, tears pricking at the corners of my own. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you too.”

  48

  Marco

  “One week isn’t nearly long enough, brother,” Maddox says, shaking his head. “When this op is done, are you coming back for a proper vacation? I’ll take time off. Hell, we all will, if you want us to.”

  “I learned years ago not to commit to major plans. But yeah. When I get back, I’ll be more than ready for some downtime. Maybe take that boat trip Elle’s new boyfriend offered.”

  My older brother grins. “You mean invite ourselves on Mason’s honeymoon?”

  I peek around the corner and down the corridor of the Mad Dog Tattoo studio. From the garage in back come the loud bursts of Mason’s hydraulic torque wrench as he mounts the engine into the classic car he just finished rebuilding. He can’t hear us, so I turn back to Mad with a grin.

  “We’d give ‘em a night, of course. Then come by moonlight from the shore, sneak on board, and start the party off right.”

  “He’d fucking hate that,” Mad says, laughing. “But I bet he’d secretly love it.”

  “As long as Callie wouldn’t hate us. What’s your read on her?” I ask. I’d only met my brother’s fiancée about a week ago, and we’ve spent some time together since, but not enough to really know her—other than seeing why Mason locked her down as fast as he did.

  “Shit, if you bring her brother home after this, I think she’d let you move in. You’ll have earned so many points from her family.”

  I nod. Having a senator on speed dial would be nice, but I’m hoping after this op I can shift gears to a less strenuous, less dangerous lifestyle. At least that’s what the logical part of my brain keeps suggesting, despite the fact that I get a mild sense of panic if I sit still for too long.

  Case in point: One week home, and I’m already itching to start the next mission, even though I know how dangerous our target is. This is the longest I’ve been without a mission in years. Visiting my older brother’s tattoo shop for some ink is the last step before Jake and I ship out tomorrow.

  Jake appears from across the hall then, wiping his hands on a paper towel before tossing it into the small trashcan by the door. “So, are we doing this?”

  “I’m ready for whoever wants to go first,” Mad says. He settles on his little rolling stool and pats the fancy tattoo chair in front of him. “You two are happy with the designs, right?”

  He points at the digital tablet he has anchored in a gooseneck clamp. The screen displays two similar designs, each featuring a fierce, toothy little raccoon standing on its hind legs, holding a gun that’s as big as he is. He’s more or less the same in both, just in different poses.

  “Those are fucking on point,” Jake says, settling in the chair when I gesture for him to go first.

  I’ve never watched my brother work before, so it’s a treat to see him in his element as he gets started. He’s quiet for a few minutes while Jake and I banter about our recent change of scenery. We’re excited to be a part of a new team, but also a little sad to be leaving behind the team of men who’ve had our backs for the past four years. None of that is said out loud, though. We just talk around it… as we do.

  Mad pauses for a beat after completing the outline of Jake’s version of Rocket Raccoon on his bicep. He glances at me, then at Jake.

  “Okay, I hear what you two aren’t saying loud and clear, and I’ve gotta know—why the hell did you both retire from the SEALs? I get why Marco did it, though I still think you were fucking nuts, brother. But Jake… Man, why are you following my brother’s idiotic ass? You have no stake in it.

  “And secondly…” He looks at me, pointing at his tablet. “What the fuck is up with these tattoos? I usually don’t ask, but it’s killing me not to know. You’re my goddamn brother, so this is your chance to change your mind. You know I’d understand.”

  Jake and I share a look, and Jake lets out a heavy sigh, putting on a mask of mock seriousness. “Truth be told, Mad Dog, the answer to both questions is the same—it’s about a girl.”

  Mad narrows his eyes and nods. “I’m listening. Tell me about this girl.”<
br />
  Jake smirks at me and tilts his chin. “I think Saint Marco can field this one. You were always closer to her than I was anyway. I’m still convinced she was a little in love with you.”

  My stomach twists into a knot, and for a moment I wish I had a beer, but Mad doesn’t allow alcohol—or drunks—in his shop. I hate Jake a little for putting me on the spot like this, but he’s right. For whatever reason, the girl in question seemed to gravitate to me more than him, even if her attention was mostly to give me shit.

  “She wasn’t in love with me. She was gay.”

  My brother’s eyebrows shoot up. “You sure? Because looks can be deceiving when it comes to sexuality. Us bisexuals are part chameleon.”

  “See?” Jake says. “You know I’m right.”

  “I know no such thing. You’re forgetting the stripper in Destin. Her girlfriend?”

  “That proves nothing,” Jake says. My brother eyes me the way he does when I’m failing to get the point.

  “Tell me more and I’ll tell you what I think. Maybe start with the story here,” Mad says, pointing at the second design—the one destined to be inked onto my arm next.

  “Rocket was her nickname,” I say. “Mostly because she possessed every quality this little fucker has. She had a tenacity of spirit we both cherished and hope to channel on this op.”

  Mad frowns as he stops tattooing again and spears me with a pointed look. He doesn’t say anything for several seconds, but I sense he’s trying to read me.

  “She’s not dead,” he finally concludes, and I realize how it must’ve sounded.

  “Ah, no. At least I don’t think so,” I say.

  “And you were probably a little in love with her too, but you weren’t together.”

  “Wait,” Jake jumps in. “You got all that from just looking at him?”

  “He’s my brother,” Mad says, as if that’s explanation enough. I just shrug.

  “She wasn’t anyone’s girlfriend the last time I saw her,” I say.

  “Then what was she to you?”

  That’s the kicker, and one of many reasons Jake and I admire her so damn much. If only we knew why she ghosted us.

  “She was almost the first female Navy SEAL.”

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  Already reviewed and ready to keep going with the series? Shop for more books in the series:

  Mad Dog (Maddox Santos)

  Mile High (Mason Santos)

  Valentine’s Day (Sam Santos)

  The Devil’s Daughter (Elle Santos)

  Marked Man (Marco Santos)

  About Ophelia Bell

  Ophelia Bell loves a good bad-boy and especially strong women in her stories. Women who aren’t apologetic about enjoying sex and bad boys who don’t mind being with a woman who’s in charge, at least on the surface, because pretty much anything goes in the bedroom.

  Ophelia grew up on a rural farm in North Carolina and now lives in Los Angeles with her own tattooed bad-boy husband and six attention-whoring cats.

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  Also by Ophelia Bell

  While Ophelia primarily writes about horny dragon shifters, she also has several contemporary stories to enjoy, with more on the way. You can find a complete list of Ophelia’s books by visiting opheliabell.com.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

  The Devil’s Daughter

  Copyright © 2021 by Ophelia Bell

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  Published by Ophelia Bell

  UNITED STATES

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