“Is that her?” Brenna asks me, eyebrows furrowed. I nod, and Brenna starts to giggle. “That’s not Christian’s girlfriend, silly, that’s his soon to be sister-in-law. Logan Steele’s baby mama. That is Brooklyn. Now that we’ve cleared that up, how will you proceed with Christian’s advances?”
Before I knew the answer, I wouldn’t. But now…things are different. I don’t want to do anything with Christian Steele. But I do. He drives me insane with his cocky attitude, in the best way possible.
Finding out that he’s single changes things…
God dammit. So much for staying away from Christian Steele.
I wake up to an obnoxious ringing sound. I think it’s my cell phone, and then I remember that my ring does not sound as loud and horrendous as whatever horrendous thing is ringing. I throw my comforter off me, rubbing my hands against my eyes until I can focus on the direction of where it’s coming from. I walk over to my closet, and next to it sits a chair, and on the chair is my purse. It’s at that exact moment I see the name Man Candy lighting up, and suddenly it all makes sense.
Christian is calling me.
I stare at it for a second, trying to figure out if I really want to answer it or not. The only thing I know for certain is that I want it to stop ringing, so I just answer the damn thing. “It’s one in the fucking morning, Steele,” I whisper snap.
“Is it?” he breathes. I’m not used to getting a normal response from him. If anything, I’ve almost expected his cocky comebacks any time he speaks to me, to be honest – I love them. “Can I see you?” I have to blink twice before I realize what he’s just asked me. “I just need to see you.” His voice is wavering, something that has never happened before. Christian is always cocky, arrogant, he exuberates power. His voice never falters, he never sounds this…low, no…low isn’t the right word. Christian sounds weak.
“I’m at home,” I tell him, lowering my voice to a soft whisper.
“I know you are. I’m at your front door, let me in, Cinderella.” I think he’s lying until I slip out of my room and dart as quickly and silently as I can down the stairs until I’m at the front door. I put my hand over the deadbolt and turn it back, then open the door slowly. And just like he’s said, he’s at my front door.
The light from the street highlights him just enough that I can see the side of his face, purging out. I slowly rake my eyes over his features, a cut above his eye, left cheek swelling, my eyes go lower as I inspect him thoroughly, and then I see the blood. Oh, God.
“Oh my God, what on earth happened to you?” I grab his hand and urge him into my house, shutting the door and locking the deadbolt behind him. “And how the hell do you know where I live?”
Christian chuckles softly, “I know everything about you, Selena Jacobsen”
“Of course, you do,” I reply leading him into the kitchen where I keep my first aid kit. I make sure he’s sitting on the barstool as I pull out the blue plastic box from the emergency drawer. “What happened, Christian?”
“It was nothing.”
“If it was nothing you wouldn’t have come to my house at one in the morning, bloodied and bruised!” I snap, fumbling with the lid of the first aid kit. I don’t even know why I’m snapping at him. Sure, I like the guy….way more than I should, to be honest, but it’s not like I’m in love with him.
He’s an ass.
He’s cocky as fuck.
He’s a dick.
He has a smart mouth.
He looks really good in suits.
He handles my smart mouth.
Fuck, and I’m back to liking him.
“After the night I’ve had, the only thing that I wanted to do was come and see you. I needed to see your face, to make sure you were okay, cause all I want to do is make sure you are taken care of.” He leans further against the island, crossing his arms in front of him. I dig through the first aid kit and tear open an alcohol pad, approaching Christian. I don’t even warn him about the burn that will be coming. I press the little white cloth against the cut over his eye and feel him hiss, I start to pull away, but he grabs my arm, closing his fist around it, keeping my fingers against his cut. “Don’t you pussyfoot around treating me, sweetheart. I can handle it.” He gives me that million-dollar smile. I simply just roll my eyes at him. God, he is infuriating and annoying as fuck most of the time.
“If you weren’t such a baby, maybe I wouldn’t take it easy on you,” I tell him, pressing the pad harder against his cut. He hisses again, followed by a quick chuckle. With my free hand, I grab some antibiotic ointment, applying a small amount over my finger. I remove the alcohol pad and assess the damage. I’m no doctor, but it looks clean enough, so I tap the ointment over his cut.
“Are you gonna tell me what happened tonight?” I ask, lightly pressing more ointment over his cut. I know there’s that old saying less is more, but when it comes to wound care, I say more is better.
“I didn’t intend on telling you about my night. Yet, you have this way of making me do things I wouldn’t normally do,” he mutters, meeting his eyes with my own. I stare into those icy blue orbs, and I just can’t look away. “I had a business meeting on the other side of town. When I was exiting, I saw a situation unfold much like what you experienced. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to harm the man that hurt you, Cinderella, but tonight, I was able to fuck up the bastard who hurt that poor girl. What I witnessed tonight hit close to home, all I could think about was you. It was her, but she was you. You were all I saw tonight.”
For the first time since I’ve known him, I don’t think about his arrogance or sense of entitlement. I think about every word the man sitting before me just uttered, how he witnessed something horrific happening to an innocent girl and stepped in, but more importantly…how he only saw me. There is so much more to Christian than I ever thought. “I didn’t kill the man tonight. I left him bleeding on the pavement, alive – barely. You know what I will do when I get my hands on Matteo Varca, don’t you?”
I nod, knowing that I don’t have to say anything.
“I will kill him for laying a hand on you, and I will make him suffer for hurting you.”
Christian and I stared at each other for a few minutes before I put away the first aid kit, and silence floated around us. I suppose neither of us could figure out what to say. What was there to say? “I want to stay the night.”
“No.”
“Let me, please.” His hand snakes around my neck, a move so precise, he pulls me closer to him. “Allow me to stay here tonight and hold you. Just tonight. One night is all that I’m asking for, just give me this one night.”
I don’t want to say yes, but something about the way his voice is wavering combined with his hot breath hitting my skin tells me I don’t have much choice in the matter. “Fine. One night. That’s all you get, Christian.”
“One night,” he agrees. “Plus, our date, sweetheart. Don’t forget about that, as soon as things settle down, I will let you know exactly what I have planned for us.” Christian rises from the barstool, brushing his lips against my temple. A move that normally I wouldn’t put up with, but tonight, it comforted me.
Christian follows me up to my bedroom. I make him take his shoes off so none of the kids hear him, and like a teenager sneaking around with her high school boyfriend, I shut the door to my bedroom behind him as he comes inside. I turn the light on, enough to where we both can see.
Christian begins stripping his clothes off, his suit jacket, then his dress shirt until he’s left in a blood-stained undershirt. “Whoa…what are you doing!?” I whisper yell at his sudden indecency.
“Taking off my clothes. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly a prude.” He chuckles, smirking as he unbuckles his pants, and I watch as they slide to the floor and land with a thunk.
“I’m not. We… didn’t talk about your attire,” I mumble, redirecting my eyes from the half-naked man who just tore his shirt off like he was straight out of a Magic Mike movie. Dear Lord, and I though
t I was erotic when I took my clothes off. I could take some pointers from Christian…
I’m standing here in my Jonas Brothers world tour old T-shirt and a pair of pink cotton short shorts, and he’s…. half-naked. I suddenly feel hot. Maybe I should turn a fan on. I walk towards the left side of the bed where I sleep and slide under the covers hoping that being covered and somewhat out of sight will help. Out of nowhere, I feel the other side of the bed dip, and when I look Christian is there laying down. “Uh, no. This isn’t happening, you sleep there.” I point over to the old chair in the corner of my room, it’s definitely not comfortable and I’ve deemed it my junk drawer.
“No. I sleep where you sleep,” he growls, I glance quickly over at the clock and see it’s almost two. I have absolutely no energy to be arguing with him, so I flip off the light switch to the bedside lamp and settle into my bed.
Arms encase me, and I’m being pulled backwards right against his chest. “This is not what we agreed to,” I complain, reminding him.
“I told you I wanted to hold you, and I damn well will. For once, shut your mouth and just let me do what I want,” he hisses at me, pulling me closer. I feel his lips pressing against the back of my head, his breath hot against my hair. “Why are you constantly on guard all the time?”
Because I have to be, I think to myself.
I make my mind and body relax, knowing very well that I can somehow trust him. I sink back into his embrace, finding my own level of comfort being in his arms. “Don’t get used to this.”
Christian’s laughter was the last thing I remember before the sandman took me.
Chapter Twelve
Christian
“Where the hell have you been? I’m here, on time, with just an hour of sleep, if that!” Logan snaps the second I’m walking through his office doors, shutting them closed behind me. Okay, I get it. I’m fucking late. It’s not like these two assholes have never been late to a meeting before. It turns out sleeping at my girl’s house when I have no backup clothes is not the smartest idea. I had to rush back to the penthouse and change, it didn’t help that I woke up later than I usually do, either.
“C’mon Lo’. It’s obvious, you can tell exactly what Christian was doing last night. He looks like a hot fucking mess. Were you with the girl?” Jordan comments, smirking as he leans back in his chair.
“It’s not what you think,” I hiss at Jordan, my instincts immediately going in to protect her. I’ll be damned if my brother insinuates Selena is just some easy lay.
“Looks like you had a long night, brother.”
“That, I did, after I beat the fuck out of some lowlife who thought it was completely reasonable to do to another girl what Selena had to experience not too long ago. After that, I went to her house. I wanted to hold my girl, to make sure she’s safe. I wasn’t fucking her, not that I owe either of you any explanation anyways”
“Damn. You must really like this girl,” Logan adds, looking flabbergasted if I’ve ever seen it.
“That I do. She’s not going anywhere, not if I have anything to say about it.”
“What does she have to say about it?” Jordan laughs. I shoot him a nasty glare. “Ah. She’s a firecracker, now I understand why you’ve been so determined with this one. Your Cinderella is giving you a run for your money, Christian.”
“That she is,” I agree.
“Enough about your constantly changing love life. We’ve got business to discuss,” Logan snaps, walking out from behind his desk. He comes around the front, crossing his arms as he leans against it. “You’ve been talking with Lorenzo DiGiovanni, haven’t you?” he asks Jordan, who nods.
“Yes. Gabriele hasn’t required our services for quite a while, in saying that Lorenzo has assured me that when the time comes, and they do, that they will reach out accordingly. Now, Gabriele has asked something of us. Something that he normally wouldn’t feed into, but he’d like to know what Matteo has up his sleeve, and what it is exactly that he’s planning. Basically, we will be paid handsomely if we play along with Matteo Varca. Gabriele wants information, and then he wants him dead.”
I clench my fists, seeing them shake before my own eyes. The amount of rage that builds up inside me whenever I hear his name is shocking to me. I have never, ever, wanted to kill a man more than I want to kill Varca, and I will. I will take my time and make him suffer in the way he truly deserves. For once, I will enjoy my kill. This won’t just be for work, this will be for pleasure.
“Gabriele has cancelled his contract with The Arcane, given the events that have transpired over the past couple of weeks. In fact, Christian, he believes that it should be you and only you who ends Matteo’s life, and I happen to agree with him.”
“You’re damn right, I’m killing him.”
“After we find out the information that Gabriele wants,” Jordan reminds me.
I don’t want to wait. Ever since Selena confessed that Matteo was the one that harmed her I’ve had my men looking for him, and every single day I get a status report that he’s still in the wind. No one has any idea how angry that makes me. All I’ve wanted to do since that night is rip out his tongue and defile him in ways that would surpass any nightmare he could ever dream of.
“Fine,” I agree, clenching my teeth and holding my opinion to myself. There is always a time and a place to argue with my brothers, but this is not the time, nor the place.
“He’s agreed to pay us the full amount of the hit placed on Varca, plus a fee of twenty-five million for finding out his plans.”
“He’s willing to pay a lot for Varca,” Logan comments. “Why? We need to figure out what it is that Varca has that is so valuable to DiGiovanni. I want to know why. Knowledge is power, always remember that.” I do every single day. Our father had a knack for instilling that in us from a young age. He may not have been the best father, but he was a brilliant businessman, teaching us each exactly what we needed to know to be successful not only in life but also in this business.
“I agree. We need to figure out what it is that Gabriele wants Varca to keep quiet about. I’m not saying that we go against Gabriele’s wishes, especially since we can’t afford a war with the entire Italian Mafia, but what I suggest is that we find out and keep that information to ourselves. Even if Varca does slip up and say something to us, we lie to Gabriele and tell him that we know nothing, and as far as he knows that’s exactly what we know, nothing.”
“You’re gambling our lives on Gabriele believing that we don’t know anything. He knows that we aren’t dumb. He’d see a move like this from a mile away,” I tell my brothers, Logan nods in agreement, and Jordan interjects before Logan has a chance to speak up.
“I think you forget how good of a relationship I have with Lorenzo. If I tell Lorenzo anything he believes me. We aren’t just business associates, we’re friends.” I see how Jordan uses the term friends loosely. Jordan is most definitely not friends with Lorenzo DiGiovanni. He only uses Lorenzo as a way to keep a good relationship with the Italians. Logan and Jordan are alike in this sense, doing whatever it takes to keep people happy – business wise and on a personal level. Me, I couldn’t give two fucks about who likes me. I doubt I ever will. At the end of the day, it’s a good thing that I’m not in charge of the family business. I’d burn everything that my father built into the ground. He’d be rolling in his grave for sure.
“I don’t like the idea, but I know that it’s necessary, so I agree. We should take whatever information we can acquire and keep it for our own advantage. All of us know how things are constantly changing between the different mobs, cartels, and mafias. If my intuition is right, this is big. Which means we need to know.”
The rest of our morning was filled with legitimate business. Logan has recently asked for Jordan and my opinions on the newer businesses he’s been investing in, stating how we all needed to make executive decisions and not just himself, how this was a family business, after all. I couldn’t disagree with him, as much as I wanted to, I
just couldn’t. Logan was trying to do right by his own morals, to legitimize what he could of Steele Enterprises. Honestly, I’m proud of everything that he’s accomplished, but he forgets one thing. Once you’re in this life, you’re in it. The only way out is by climbing the ladder or taking a bullet to the brain. I’d be damned if I got a bullet to the brain. I’d make the ladder my bitch, even if my brother couldn’t. I’d keep us all safe, even if it killed me.
Brooklyn and Logan welcomed Emmett into their lives just two short weeks ago. Each day passed faster than the next, and there are times when I forget he’s even here. Those moments pass quickly when I hear his blood curdling cries from Logan’s office. He told Brooklyn to bring Emmett in to see him as much as possible, that he wanted to spend as much time with him as he could. I could understand exactly why this was important to my brother. Our own father did spend time with us, but it was always on his terms. He never went to my soccer, Jordan’s football, or even Logan’s baseball games. No, Mr. Steele was always so focused on making business decisions, furthering the length of not only our name but our pockets too. To be honest, I don’t even know if he made it to my birth.
I’m walking down the corridor of Steele Enterprises that houses the executive offices. From the corner of my eye, I see Brooklyn come darting out of Logan’s office, shutting the door quickly behind her. The girl looks like a hot mess, and I’ve never said that about Brook. “What’s wrong, babycakes? You look like you just robbed a bank peeling outta Lo’s office that quick,” I chuckle, but Brooklyn doesn’t find it funny whatsoever. She slumps, puffs out her bottom lip and next come the water works.
“I…oh, my God,” Brooklyn mutters, hiccups passing through her lips. “It’s Mase. I don’t know what’s going on, but he was rushed to the ER, and I couldn’t take Emmett with me. I had to bring him here. I…I’m scared Chrissy.” Mase, none other than Mason – the toughest bastard in all of Atlanta. In short, Mason is like Brooklyn’s surrogate grandfather. Back in the day her mother and Mason were good friends, Brook, and her brother, Sebastian grew up with Mason being a constant factor in their life. “I gotta go.”
Stolen Hearts: A Dark Billionaire Collection Page 21
