“Your owner…I own you now.”
A chill runs down my back recalling his words to me on our wedding night. But I’ll be free of him soon, I remind myself. Hopefully, if Amber, unlike pretty much every other lawyer I’ve tried to consult with, agrees to take my case. Outrageously beautiful Amber Ferraro, whose sneezes are probably worth more than what I can afford to pay her.
“Hello,” she says, like she’s a normal person, and not possibly an angel who fell to earth. “I’m Amber Ferraro.”
I just stare at her, wondering, not for the first time why Victor chose me, a chubby RhIDS animation student, as opposed to somebody like her. If I looked like Amber, maybe I could understand his obsession with me, but—
“Hey, Dawn, you’re really quiet. Can you give me a voice cue, so I know where you are?”
My skin heats with embarrassment, and I want to disappear into the couch. Wow, I’d been so busy staring and comparing myself to her, I’d totally forgotten to answer her question, even though, Matti had told me, like, three times she was blind before we got here.
Feeling rude, I lean forward and say, “Hi, I’m Dawn.” But then I stop—because wow, she already knows that. Ugh. Could I be any nerdier? “Thanks for meeting with me,” I finish lamely.
“No problem,” she answers, settling into the seat directly across from us on the large wraparound couch. “Now tell me about this soon-to-be ex whose got you so worried you think Matti’s not up for the job.”
“It’s not that we don’t think he’s good enough,” Byron says beside me, hitting her with his best flirtatious smile, even though she can’t see it, and, c’mon Byron, she’s the wife of a major crime boss. Could you pick a worst person to flirt with? “It’s just the more juice, the better with this guy. He’s not going to let my sister go easily—especially now that she’s pregnant.”
“You’re pregnant,” Amber says, her head tilting thoughtfully. “So you’ll need a custody agreement after the child is born. And I’m assuming this is a bad guy we’re talking about if you’re here. Not just your run-of-the-mill rich asshole.
“Exactly,” I answer. “He’s bad. Really bad.”
“Chinese Mafia out of Rhode Island,” Matti explains.
“Actually…” Byron, clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “He’s located in Rhode Island right now. But technically he operates out of Japan.”
Matt shifts to turn to the both of us, his face clouding over with new consternation. “So, this is an international case? Why didn’t you tell me that at our initial consult?”
“I’m sorry,” I answer for the both of us—even though withholding the real deets about Victor’s background had been Byron’s idea, not mine. “We were afraid we’d only have one shot, and we wanted to double our chances of representation by making sure both of you were in the room when we told you my husband is…um…Victor Zhang.”
Amber’s expression doesn’t change, but Matti’s chin drops as if I’ve sucker punched him. “You don’t mean Victor Zhang, the head of the Silent Triad?” Matti prompts with a sickly look. Like his breakfast won’t stay down if my answer is yes.
But unfortunately, I have to reply, “Yes, that’s him. I’m really sorry.” I swallow, wishing that I had a different answer for him, myself, and this baby.
“Who’s the Silent Triad?” Amber asks into the hushed silence that follows my second, even more heartfelt apology.
“Nobody,” Matti answers, jumping to his feet. “Because we’re not taking this case. Sorry to have bothered you about this, Amber. If I’d known—”
“Matti, sit down,” Amber snaps, cutting him off. Though, how she knew he was standing, I have no idea.
Nevertheless, she waits with a stern look, until Matti sits down again, crossing his arms over his chest, like a kid in time out.
“We’re not taking this case, Amber,” he tells her. “Luca isn’t going to let you. I can guarantee you that.”
Her face narrows as if Matti’s challenged her to a duel. “We’ll see about that,” she answers. Then she directs her gaze back to me and repeats her question. “Who’s the Silent Triad?”
Byron answers before I can. “The Silent Triad is an international criminal organization with branches on every continent but Antarctica. Victor Zhang is one of their three dragon heads.”
“A dragon head is like a crime boss,” Matti supplies. “And that means if you take this case, you’re not just going up against this guy, but his whole organization.”
“Noted,” Amber answers, her voice tight. But then instead of wavering, she says, “Okay, Dawn, tell me how you got mixed up with this dragon head.”
I swallow. Hard, because she’s exactly what Byron promised she’d be. Fierce, unflinching, and unlike most mafiosos on the Eastern seaboard, unintimidated by Victor’s name.
She’s also going to help me escape my silent owner.
I know that. I know it even before I open my mouth and tell her the story of how I met the man who would eventually destroy my life.
Dearest Wonder Readers,
Oh my gosh, guys. As many of you know, Luca’s and Amber’s story started out as a novella that just refused to be one and done. And, little did I know when I set out to tell their tale, that their story would spawn not one, but two books. I’m still kind of mad at them for that, but I’m sincerely happy that they overcame their many, many issues to form this one-of-a-kind loving family with Daniella and Lucky.
On a personal note, this story is particularly close to my heart. You see, before I started writing romance, I was another kind of writer, with one daughter and a wonderful husband. We were struggling with infertility, but I’d hoped to have one more child to make our family complete. However, two heartbreaking miscarriages later, I found myself in a pit of depression and despair, unable to write my usual fare, or read anything more serious than a newspaper article. I started back up with my pre-college habit of reading romance novels because honestly, I couldn’t process anything without a guaranteed HEA for a while.
On a strict and steady diet of romance, I eventually found myself emotionally healed enough to try my hand at writing love stories, and that’s how I came to write my first Theodora Taylor book, THE OWNER OF HIS HEART. I can’t say this emphatically enough. I freaking LOVED writing romance. It saved my mind and gave me a new lease on life. So, if I don’t say this enough, thank you to the readers who’ve been with me since that book. You’ll never know what you did for me by responding so positively to my first story.
After writing two contemporary romance novels, I decided to try my hand at paranormal… and to undergo one last round of IVF to have a second child.
So imagine my surprise when just a few days before releasing my first paranormal novel, HER VIKING WOLF, I discovered I was pregnant with twin girls…who actually made it to a full (for twins) 37 weeks. Just like with Luca and Amber, my unexpected double blessing wasn’t a replacement for the two pregnancies I lost, but the puzzle pieces certainly fit. I’m forever thankful for the grace the universe has shown me in making my family even more complete than I imagined when my husband and I first set out on this love journey together.
And I’m beyond happy for Luca and Amber, who not only gained another child but will give brave Daniella the loving family she deserves.
So much love,
Theodora Taylor
P.S. – If you loved these Ruthless Tycoons, keep swiping for a very special preview of the first book in the Broken and Ruthless series, KEANE: Her Ruthless Ex
KEANE
Her Ruthless Ex…
I used to be a sensible, responsible good girl who kept her nose buried in textbooks and worked hard to make her father’s dreams come true. Then Keane happened. He was a crude, rude, ruthless Southie bully who only cared about his hockey career and pucking his way through a string of girls. I hated him and I thought he hated me, but then one unexpected spring break kiss changed everything.
I had no business spending one night with
him, much less that wild, intense summer. He was freedom and ruin in one ridiculously sexy package. Moving across the country to go to med school and eventually marrying Keane’s total opposite seemed like the right things to do at the time.
But now I’m divorced and back in Boston with a nine-year-old secret, I’ll do anything to protect. And as for Keane? Well, my ruthless ex is broken, bitter, and determined to punish me for walking away.
Prologue
He didn’t notice her at first.
But when he did, she became all he could see.
For seconds…minutes…eternities on end.
Keane marked him less than five minutes after stepping foot into Boston Prep’s main school building. Skinny. Short. Brown…but not the kind that fights back. He’d bet his new custom Bauer Supremes the kid signed up for band freshman year.
He studied Band Nerd stuffing books into his locker and jabbering with some girl. He could only see her profile, but he clocked that she was also brown and wore her hair in a long practical braid. She kept her face turned toward Band Nerd as she stowed her books. Like she actually gave a shit about whatever he was talking about.
Girlfriend, Keane concluded. Probably played for the band, too. Keane had yet to encounter a lunch money mark who actually knew how to bag a girlfriend without getting band involved. Flute or clarinet, he guessed. Something delicate and useless like that.
Yeah, this kid would definitely make for perfect prey.
He thumped his suite and teammate, Con, on the shoulder. “Watch this,” he said. Then he cut left in Band Nerd’s direction.
Time to show everyone at this new school who not to fuck with….
“Just so you know, I plan to kill myself if Mr. Marchetti refuses to let us play anything from the current millennium this year,” Band Nerd was saying.
He had an accent, Keane noted. Not Puerto Rican. Indian maybe?
His girlfriend made a chiding sound in the back of her throat, half laugh, half groan. “Sweetie, don’t say that. I’d be so sad.”
“I am completely serious—”
Keane grabbed Band Nerd by his lapels and slammed him against the locker before the kid had the chance to finish his lame-ass declaration.
“Lunch Money.” Two words. Spoken calm as fuck. Keane didn’t bother with a follow-up threat.
He didn’t have to. He could tell from the about-to-piss-my-fucking-pants look on Band Nerd’s face that the kid knew what was up, and understood exactly what would happen if he didn’t fork over the cash.
Yeah, he’d snagged the right mark for sure. Hardly any effort required. So instead of growling threats in his face, Keane simply stood there, dangling Band Nerd in the air as he waited for his money.
But then somebody tugged on his arm. “You—you can’t do that! Boston Glenn has a zero tolerance policy against bullying. Put him down! Put him down right now!”
Well this was a new twist. Keane had been rocking the stronger-than-any-of-you-fucks look since the age of nine. And thanks to that implicit promise of beating the shit out of anyone who tried to come between him and his lunch money, he’d never had any guy, much less a girl attempt to stop him from taking someone else’s lunch money. Yet, here Band Nerd’s girlfriend was, running interference.
Keane looked down, only meaning to shake her off of him. But the full-on sight of her hit him harder than a T-train.
She was fucking gorgeous. Creamy brown skin, deep brown eyes, and a wide mouth that looked like it would be smiling if she weren’t here, trying to get him to let go of her boyfriend.
He dropped his gaze down to the rest of her body, and immediately regretted the impulse decision.
She was the kind of big he hadn’t known he liked until this very moment. Curves for days. Lush hips and a spectacular rack—he could tell, even though she had them way too covered up under the blue and red Boston Glenn uniform jacket. Quite a few BG girls had introduced themselves to him already, and most of them had tugged down their red uniform ties and unbuttoned their shirts to show him some skin. But this girl wore her blouse buttoned all the way up, with the knot of her tie squeezed so tight under her collar, he wondered if it was choking her.
His hands itched to reach out and tug the tie down. To let that perfect braid loose, too. Then haul her to him and kiss that disapproving frown off her mouth. Would her plump lips taste as good as they looked?
No, he hadn’t noticed her at first. But when he did, she became all he could see. For seconds…minutes…eternities on end.
A memory crashed into him. His first game at Andrews Arena. Cheering for the Boston Hawks with his mom. It was close. Less than 30 seconds left on the clock in the last period, and the game was 0-0. This had been before the NHL killed that tied game shit with the shootout, so everybody had been shifting in their seats. Restless and scared they’d paid for tickets and got ass-fucked by the arena’s parking prices for literally zero result. His mom was tapping her acrylics against the arm rest in a way Keane had come to recognize as her needing a drink real bad, even though she’d already knocked back two beers.
But then in the very last seconds of the game, the Hawk’s star right wing had Holy Fucking Mary-ed the puck into the enemy’s net. That win had stopped his mom’s jonesing. She, Keane, and just about everybody in that stadium jumped to their feet, Caw-Cawing for the Hawks, as the band Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” started playing overhead.
Gazing down at this girl…it felt like that moment. Like “More Than a Feeling” blasting after an unexpected win. And, a new arousal delivered an unexpected dick punch.
“Okay, okay! I’ll give you my lunch money.”
Band Nerd’s voice ripped Keane out of the eternity stare, reminding him of his original intention. Not to gape at some weirdly alluring band nerd’s girlfriend, but to complete his important first day of school ritual of establishing himself as the resident alpha. Plus, after spending all his summer funds on his new Bauers, he was broke as fuck.
This one act was supposed to kill two birds with one nerd. So good thing Band Nerd had brought him back around to the main point.
But get this, Band Nerd’s girlfriend had something to say about that, too. “No, Vihaan. You don’t have to give him anything. I’m going to get a teacher.”
“Con, back me up here,” Keane said without turning his attention from his real target this time. He couldn’t risk letting himself look at her again. Popping a tent in his slacks while dangling a guy in the air just wasn’t a good look.
But Keane knew his roommate had it covered when he heard Band Nerd’s girlfriend start rattling off her Boston Prep school zero tolerance rule to him, too. Like it actually applied to hockey players.
“Lunch money,” Keane said again, this time letting some pissed off seep into the demand.
“It’s in my front pocket! Just take it!”
Keane gave him an aggrieved look. “You a fag?”
The little brown nerd blinked. “N-no.”
“Then why the fuck do you think I’m going to reach into your pocket. I’ve already got all my school supplies. Not looking to pick up any pencils.”
Con snickered behind him, along with everyone else in the large group of students who’d gathered to watch the show.
Well, everyone else except for Band Nerd and his girlfriend. But at least the kid seemed to get it now.
No more hesitation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a five.
Keane snatched it from him and let him go at the same time.
“Vihaan! Are you all right?” Band Nerd’s girlfriend called out.
He wanted to look at her. Fuck, did he want to look at her. Devour her with his eyes and try to figure out how to get her to spread her legs. But winners don’t look back. They keep it going, dusting all the losers in their wake.
Keane forced himself to continue strolling down the hallway. Smooth, like shaking Band Nerd down for his lunch money was all in a day’s work.
But his heart pounded as he walked
away, and it had nothing to do with the very tiny bit of exertion it took to pick up that skinny nerd.
No….
Keane, didn’t let himself look, but he could imagine her rushing over to her boyfriend and helping him up. Like she was the man and he was the damsel in distress.
It made him sick to his fucking stomach. Seriously, what was a girl like that doing with an ass tool like Band Nerd?
“Who was that?” Keane asked, when Con fell in beside him.
“The Paki or the fat girl?” Con asked. Technically his name was Chris, but he was one of three guys on the team from Wisconsin, so they all called him Con, and the other two Wis and Sin.
“The fat girl,” Keane answered.
“That’s Lena Kumar. She’s black, but her dad’s a Paki, too…or an Indian—I can never tell which is which. But they’re not rich like the other Indian kids. Both of them are here on scholarships.”
“They fucking?”
Con shrugged. “Truth be told, I thought he was a fag up until today. But I guess maybe he isn’t the way she tried to get in between you two.” He waved his hands hysterically and put on a high-falsetto as he mocked Lena. “Put him down! Put him down! Boston Glenn has a zero tolerance policy against bullying!”
Keane forced a laugh, but his heart… “More Than a Feeling” wouldn’t stop blasting.
“Lena, just drop it, okay? I gave him the money,” Vihaan said, squeezing her hand as they headed back to Vihaan’s place in Dorchester on the T. “I don’t think he’s going to come after me again.”
“Yes, you gave him the money. That’s exactly why he’ll come after you again,” Lena argued, anger still churning in her belly at that new student who threatened her friend…and made her heart beat wildly in her chest when he hit her with his hard green stare. “That’s bully psychology 101. You’re an easy mark, so he’ll keep coming after you, not just for the money, but for the rush of adrenaline he gets from dominating you. Bullies are like jungle animals—they live for this stuff.”
Ruthless Tycoons: The Complete Series (Ruthless Billionaires Book 3) Page 78
