by Violet Paige
“We don’t have to change the laws to help Seraphina and Crew.”
Kennedy huffed. “Easy for you to say. You were born into this. I’ve had to work and claw my way into my position. Am I supposed to damage my reputation and my word by humiliating the Castilles? That’s a big ask, Knight.”
“My sister deserves to be happy. My niece or nephew deserves to grow up outside of the organization. Someone should get the chance to escape.” I gritted my teeth. Didn’t she see it? We could give them what we never had.
“It doesn’t work like that.” She shoved off the bed and strolled to the window. Her kimono robe was open. I admired the gentle curves of her silhouette, highlighted in the sun.
There was a landscape crew somewhere on the grounds. I heard the yard equipment working on storm cleanup. A chainsaw buzzed at a high frequency.
“Kennedy.” I walked toward her. My hands landed on her shoulders. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll get them out of the country. You need to know what’s going on. I’ll keep you out of it.” I rotated her body so that we were facing each other. My chest seized when I realized her eyes were misted with tears. “What’s wrong?”
She lowered her gaze. “No one helped us.”
I tipped her chin. “No. They sure as hell didn’t.” I brushed over her lips gently at first and then quickly the kiss turned rough and hungry. My hand moved under her robe. The collar fell to her shoulder. It was easy to get off track. To let her body distract me.
She sighed, breaking away for a breath. “I’m not going to let you do this alone.”
“Let me?” I chuckled. “It was a courtesy to let you in on my plans. Plus, no reason to make Crew’s life more miserable by having you suspect he was a traitor.”
“There’s your ego again.” She pushed against my chest, making move for the bed.
“It’s not ego, babe. It’s the truth.”
She spun. “The truth is you need me to give you my blessing.”
My brow furrowed. “Not so,” I lied. Having her against the plan would make it infinitely more difficult.
“One of us controls the shipping in and out of the city. The loans. The debt.”
“I still have influence in New Orleans,” I argued. “My name carries more weight. Tradition is still respected. Generations of Corbans have held the power in this town.”
She sat casually on the bed, reclining as if she was Cleopatra into a pile of feather pillows. Was it possible she was as conniving?
“Do you want my help, or do you want to one-up me at every turn?” she asked.
I walked to her side of the bed. One knee climbed on top, followed by the other. Her eyes widened as I leaned toward her, sliding the tray of food farther away. God, she was so damn hot. I wondered how I’d lasted this long without taking her back to bed.
“I want both,” I taunted.
She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip. “This is a gamble.”
I nodded. For a second I thought she was talking about us, not my sister’s rescue.
Hadn’t we always been a roll of the dice? We had all the potential in the world, but it was never realized because of what our fathers had done to us. They were gone. We were left to pick up the pieces of what was once an incredible love story. I didn’t know if it could be glued back together. Last night, I started to believe we were building something new. A different story. One where our only downfall would be each other.
“Are you in?” I asked.
“Are you?”
I laughed. “Is this how it’s going to go?” I pressed my forehead to hers. I could feel the beat of her heart accelerate. Her arms slid to my neck.
“I can’t give up what I fought for,” she whispered. “Even if it crosses paths with your ego.”
I grinned. “My ego is fully intact.” What she didn’t realize was that powerful confident Kennedy was even sexier than the girl I had known. I could only imagine what she had gone through to rise to the top. I had some idea of the deals she had made.
Together we would make a formidable team.
I nipped at her lush edible lips. Her eyes fired like smoldering emeralds.
“Aren’t you glad I told you to take the day off?” I teased.
She growled in response. “I—” Her expression turned vixen-like. “Why are you still talking?”
I laughed. “As opposed to?”
“I’d rather you keep your promise from earlier.”
“You’re going to have to remind me which promise that was. I’ve been promising a lot since I walked through that door.” My lips hovered along her collarbone. I saw the goosebumps break out across her flesh. I grinned.
She groaned. “Bastard.”
I laughed. “Can’t even say it, can you?”
She arched into me. The robe fell from her body. Her lips grazed across mine. “Knight…”
I felt the ache in my cock. The growing need to bury myself inside her. She tasted like strawberries and sweet French pastries.
“Hmm?” She rubbed her tits against my chest. Vixen was exactly what she was.
“Fuck me,” she whispered.
I growled, taking her mouth under mine. “Bossy,” I murmured.
Her lips parted with a quiet sigh as I threaded my fingers through hers. The entire day was ahead of us and I had every intention of keeping my promise to fuck her all over this suite.
11
Kennedy
I watched Knight from across the room. Bella had delivered our third meal of the day to my rooms. We had sealed ourselves inside for the entire day. I’d never done this. Not once. Not even if I had a cold or strep throat. I at least made an effort to creep to my office and spend time behind my computer screen. I’d sneak in a few minutes by the pool, making the excuse that the vitamin D would restore my health.
Today I was perfectly healthy. Maybe even beyond healthy. I was invigorated. Yet, I didn’t want to leave the suite and chance piercing the perfect bubble Knight and I had created inside. Yes, it was a sex bubble. But, it was a fucking amazing sex bubble. Sweet, wild, fiery, consuming, beautiful, overwhelming. Was it possible this was what it felt like to fall in love with Knight again? Every time I let that idea in, the panic was as tangible as the excitement. I had to push them both away and focus on him instead.
Knight was distracting enough to drown out nagging competing emotions.
“Do you need me to call for anything else?” I asked. He joined me in the sitting area with two trays.
“No. These are great.” He sat across from me. “Your staff is well-trained and talented.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, lifting the silver lid from the platter. Bella had become invaluable.
“Except the one guy.” He lifted his knife in his right hand.
I groaned. “You mean Kimble?”
“Who else?”
I stuck my fork into a bite of avocado on top of the salad the kitchen staff had prepared.
“Why do you think you two hate each other so much?” I questioned.
“Because we both have the same target.”
I lowered my fork. “I’m not a target. And Kimble doesn’t see me the way you do. I assure you.”
“Please. I’ve seen how he looks at you. I know he’s the best in the industry. I can’t fault him for his work. But the vibe he still gives off after all these years is a little fucked up, Kennedy.”
My shoulders dropped. “We’ve had such a good day. I don’t want Kimble to ruin dinner.”
“Kimble or me?” he pressed. When I didn’t answer, he backtracked. “It has been a great day. I’m not trying to kill the mood.”
“Good.” I smiled. I couldn’t help but feel remnants of guilt start to attach themselves to the happy threads between us. The guilt was working its way in, whether I agreed with it or not. I could only postpone the truth for so long. “I should probably tell you something. Something that happened while you were away.”
Knight stopped chewing. His eyes flashed to mine. “What
happened?” The playfulness left his voice.
I reached for the wine. I had Bella comb the cellar for one of my favorite bottles. It was a Ksara Rose with a little bubbly in it. I didn’t want to drink Corban champagne with Knight after the Seraphina and Crew story. We needed a few minutes to breathe on our own without being reminded of how we were going to get them to France.
I took a sip, following his eyes. “I’m fine. I’m completely fine now.”
“Shit. What does that even mean? Were you not fine?”
That was the wrong way to start the story. I’d always wondered if he had known. If somehow Raphael or Felicia had told him what happened. Surely, he kept up with New Orleans news. Wouldn’t he have asked me by now? His silence was the answer. He had been in the dark.
My eyes cut away. How was I supposed to tell him?
“Stop looking at me like that.” I needed him to back off. He couldn’t crack before I even told him.
“Like what?” He knew exactly what he was doing. Staring at me as if I were weak or fragile. I was neither of those things. I wouldn’t break if he held me too tightly.
“I’m sorry. It’s a tough topic. I’m worried what you’re going to think.”
“Then just tell me.” He pushed his plate to the side. It was possible I had ended the nice dinner we were going to share.
“Three years ago, I was kidnapped.”
I knew his eyes well enough to know that in less than a second he had crossed a spectrum of emotions.
“But, I’m completely fine.” If I kept saying those words over and over maybe they would be true. I could downplay the kidnapping for his sake. The worst parts had faded in three years.
“No.” He shook his head. His jaw was set in formidable opposition to what I had told him. “How could that happen? Who let it happen?”
The inference about Kimble was clear. “Don’t blame him.”
Knight stood tall. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Don’t blame him? Hasn’t he always been in charge of your private security? How is it not his fault? It’s on him. Shit, Kennedy, how did I not know this?”
I hesitated to reach for him. I thought if I could touch him, draw him to me he might calm down. Couldn’t he see that whatever horrific scenes he was imagining, I had survived them? I was here with him.
“There are a lot of things we don’t know about each other. I’m trying to fill you in, but you’ve got to listen to the entire story. You can’t shut down on me before I explain. Please, Knight,” I pleaded for him to stop feeding his anger and focus on what was in this room—us.
There were reasons to tell him about the kidnapping. It had the potential to end his hatred of Kimble. I needed a break from the contempt between them, but what did broaching peace cost?
He exhaled. “I’m listening.” I could tell the effort it took for him to be still. His knuckles turned white against his sides. I felt the tension. The pain.
“Thank you. Maybe I should pour us refills.” I reached for the bottle of rose.
“I’m going to need something stronger,” he argued. He strolled to the bar and opened the lid on a crystal decanter.
“All right, so this is what happened,” I started once we had both returned to the sitting area. “It wasn’t long after my father died when things began to change quickly for me. I had already taken on the Martin organization, but inheriting it was different. As long as my father was fighting for his life, I think we believed I was safe. What family would harm an only child during that time? Even if I was an adult child, codes were supposed to be followed. The traditions of New Orleans were supposed to shield me. There were still contingencies. I had bodyguards. More cameras. More protocols. More vetting than ever for anyone at work.” I took a sip of the sparkling wine. I didn’t have to look at Knight to know his eyes were on me.
“Things were bad. My father was home from multiple hospital stays but he had a nurse twenty-four hours a day. He had days, maybe hours. He was barely breathing. My memory is a little fuzzy on the exact timeline. It was then that we all let our guard down. We expected the other families to back off. To let us let him go.” I stared at my bare feet. “It turns out that was exactly what they wanted. My father asked Kimble for a last favor.” My voice started to crack. I’d never retold the story. It was becoming more difficult.
“It was back in Philadelphia…and Kimble left.” My voice quieted.
The way Knight’s lips pressed together told me how desperate he was to bark out something nasty about Kimble.
I closed my eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my gaze on Knight. Let him ground me to the present. Hold me in the now. Once I was in my head, I was right back in the nightmare I’d spent years trying to forget.
Four Years Ago
I was exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that seeped into my pores and made every muscle ache. I felt the fatigue crawling along my neck and reaching into the base of my skull. I had another headache, one that was quickly turning into a migraine. I needed to lie down in a room with the blinds drawn or I’d be plagued with it for two days. I didn’t have two days to spend in the dark. A few hours at most.
The weeks had blurred together. Endless appointments with specialists. Arguments. Discussions. Tears that were spawned out of frustration and anger more than grief. Followed by tears of guilt for not caring more than I did. The emotion was topped with trying to run the entire organization on my own. It wasn’t unexpected that it was time to take the reins. Only, it wasn’t supposed to be horrible timing. There were measures my father had in place.
There were still loose ends. One of them Kimble had been sent to tie up. I didn’t know what it was and that made me nervous. When Kimble returned from Philadelphia tomorrow, I was going to insist he tell me what last errand he had run.
I neared my father’s room. I paused outside his door. I hated walking inside, now more than usual.
It didn’t seem long ago when it smelled like cologne and cedar. Now I could only smell antiseptic and meals that were left out too long. He had stopped eating the day he was discharged from the hospital. The cook had given up on him touching the chicken or steamed vegetables. She had resorted to breakfast foods and eggs smelled horrible when left out.
I tapped the door open with a quiet push. He was sleeping, propped up on five or six pillows. The nurse seemed to be able to make him more comfortable than I could. If I even tried to adjust a quilt he sputtered, struggling to swat my hand away. I didn’t bother to venture any closer. I turned the handle and closed the door. I should have stood next to his bed, if only to say something inside my head, but I missed my chance that day.
I gripped the side of my head. The migraine was working its way from one temple to the other. I closed my eyes and the pain made me dizzy. I clutched the balcony railing. I didn’t know how I was going to make it to my room. Suddenly, there was an arm around my waist.
“Here, I’ll help you.”
I winced, trying to remember which one of the employees was offering their help. I couldn’t distinguish the voice, but everything was muddled. The gray was mixed with black. It felt as if my muscles were being sucked into quicksand. I’d never felt so heavy.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I leaned into a sturdy shoulder. I wasn’t sure, but it felt like I had been pivoted in the hall. The world swayed out from under me. I couldn’t open my eyes. His arm moved around me, holding me upright. That was the last coherent memory I had before I woke up.
When I finally came to, I didn’t have any way to tell what time or even what day it was. My head no longer throbbed, but I couldn’t say the same for the rest of my body. Where in the hell was I? The room wasn’t my bedroom. It wasn’t even a room in the mansion. There wasn’t a shred of familiarity in this place.
My body reacted before my brain caught up. The chill prickled across my skin.
“Oh, shit,” I groaned. The room was dimly lit and damp. I heard a constant drip of water. Someone had left the faucet running in a s
ink attached to the wall. Was I in a basement or an attic? I heard footsteps walking above me. This had to be a lower level of some sort.
I pushed off the couch. I grimaced when something sticky adhered to my palm. I felt shaky on my feet, but there was no way I was lying down on the green vinyl again. I wiped my hand on my pants.
I had to think. I had to try to figure out how I ended up in this room, and more importantly who put me in it. There had to be an answer somewhere. I walked with careful steps following the perimeter. The walls were bare. I stopped when I heard something clatter overhead.
I waited for a door to open. For some sign that whoever had taken me wanted money, a payout, a price for my father to pay. But the activity continued without anyone bothering to see me.
I wondered if the negotiations were going straight to my father. What good would that do? He was nearly unresponsive. The man wasn’t in any shape to negotiate for my release. I doubt he could remember an access code to his accounts.
I wanted to scream through the ceiling. This wasn’t going to work. My father was dying. My kidnappers had botched their entire crime. I was about to open my mouth and shout. I wanted to beat on the only door in the room to get their attention. They should let me go now before they were humiliated, but I stopped before my fist made contact.
What if this wasn’t botched? What if it was carefully planned out? Kimble was gone. My father was unconscious. Who was going to look for me? Without me in the game, my father’s properties and fortune became fair game to the other families. Holy shit.
My knees began to buckle. I reached for the wall. I had to hold on. I had to keep from my falling.
I wasn’t sure how many hours passed before I had the first sign of life from the outside world. There were no windows, so I couldn’t judge time. All I knew was that the door opened and before I could run to it, a tray of food slid across the floor along with a cloth sack.
“Wait,” I called out, but the door slammed shut and I heard a loud lock. I wondered what kind of deadbolt it was. The door was metal, that was all the information I had about it.
