Stolen Hearts: A Dark Billionaire Collection

by Elizabeth Knox

  “I didn’t know it was a secret!” I whisper-yell across the room.

  “Is anyone going to fill me in?” Christian chuckles, “Please, for the love of God, give this dog a bone.”

  “I slept with Lacey— once.”

  “I knew it!” Christian jumps up, clapping his hands together. In the process, Selena flies down onto the floor. “Shit, sorry babe. I got too excited.”

  “Yeah, I could tell.”

  “And you two haven’t?” Logan asks, stopping mid-way through his sentence as Jordan shoots him a glare.

  “No, it was one summer. I didn’t know she was staying at the lakehouse and one thing led to another.”

  “When was it?” Christian, the nosey bastard, asks.

  “The summer before she went to college.”

  “Holy shit,” Logan smirks, getting a kick out of this. “You gave me shit about dating Brook and you were practically robbing the cradle.”

  “She was eighteen at the time,” Jordan defends himself, “It was a one-time thing. I didn’t know she was a . . .” He stops suddenly, but we all know where he was going.

  “Oh damn, you cherry popping Stallion!” Christian is getting a kick out of this. The only thing I can think about is how I’m going to be on Jordan’s shit list for a very long time.

  My brothers start bantering back and forth with Reggie chiming in every now and again and I smile. I smile because no matter what type of chaos my life is, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I take another sip of eggnog, feeling the cushion to the seat lifting up as Reggie stands.

  He turns to look at me with an emotional look crossing his face, staring like I’m the most precious thing in the world. Within a second, he’s shooting down to the floor and not in the way I think.

  I only recognize what’s happening when Brook shrieks like a high schooler. Reggie is on one knee, in front of my fucking face, shaking like a Pomeranian in a thunderstorm. I blink a few dozen times in the span of a minute to make sure I’m not hallucinating, but how can I be when a red box is being shown to me with one really shiny ring and a bigger diamond than I deserve.

  “Madigan Archer-Steele, I don’t know where to begin. You came into my life like a wrecking ball. That first day I met you, I knew my life was changing, only back then, I thought it was for the worst. After seven months of having you by my side through every single minute of the day, I can’t imagine a moment without you. You wrecked my world, girl, so bad that I can’t imagine it without you. We’ve been through the best and the worst times together, Mad. It’s what makes me realize that you and I can overcome any obstacle we face because we’re stronger together. Will you marry me?”

  My heart pounds inside me so hard that I don’t even know what I’m saying but I know I said something when Reggie yanks me up into his arms and plants the biggest kiss of my life on me. Only, now, I have a diamond on my finger.

  He sets me back down onto the couch and I take a look at my hand, shaking so hard from the overall shock.

  Even feeling as shocked as this, I know I’m where I belong, and boy does it feel so good.

  Authors Note

  I’ve only recently started these author notes, but you guys have been giving me amazing feedback after reading them. So, I guess I’ll continue to write them when I’ve officially typed “The End” on whatever manuscript I’m working on.

  First of all, I want to apologize for taking a break for so long from this series. For those of you who have patiently waited the two years it took me to come back to the Steele Bros — thank you. It wasn’t an easy decision to take a step away, but it was one I needed to make. If I had kept writing, I would’ve been forcing words out and the book wouldn’t have been any good. Unless the characters are speaking to me, I can’t authentically write a book and this is why you see me jumping from series to series.

  I’m so happy to have this book finished, through my editor and in your eager hands. I promise that I won’t make you wait nearly as long for the next one. Jordan has already been blabbing away in my head, but he needs to wait because I’m working on about seven other projects.

  Now, on a more serious note, I’m sure a lot of you are wondering why Madigan went down the path she did. She was both an emotionally and physically abused woman escaping her abuser, and if that wasn’t enough she was pregnant. Surely, everyone had expected she would’ve been fine once she got to Atlanta within the safety of her brothers and Reggie’s protective grasp.

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Like everyone else on this planet, Madigan got fucked by the world. She found herself meeting her brothers who she was forbidden from connecting with while her father was alive, newly left her abuser and found some sort of bond with Reggie which quickly turned romantic.

  Like you, I had expected some sort of showdown with the Falcones and for it all to be over and done with. While we did get some conflict when it came to them, I believe the Falcones will be causing trouble down the line, especially considering what happened.

  What I didn’t expect was for Madigan’s character to come to me in a dream and tell me that she couldn’t have this baby. As an author, things come creatively in many forms. Sometimes these “voices” talk to us, sometimes we have dreams, and sometimes we’re influenced by things that happen in our day to day lives.

  While writing this story, I experienced a miscarriage.

  This is the first time I’ve written that down anywhere or have spoken about it in a “public” way. Part of me remembered that dream where I spoke to this fictional character and argued with her about having this fictional child. There was no way I’d write an abortion because it didn’t fit with the storyline, with her characteristics or the type of person she is. However, I knew after my own experience how she wasn’t able to have that child.

  I knew the pain, the grief, and the guilt all too well. I knew how no matter how much the doctor told you it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t help but feel that way. I knew thoughts running through her mind as her physician told her that science isn’t perfect, that she was but a small percentage, that the likelihood of this happening next time was very low, about how she’d probably go on to have a healthy pregnancy after this.

  I felt every single thing that Madigan did, and I believe that because of my own experience, I was authentic in the feelings and emotions that come with a loss like this.

  For women like myself and Madigan, I beg you to talk to your loved ones when you go through a miscarriage. Speak to your partner, parents, or friends. Reach out to grief counselors. But no matter what, remember that you aren’t alone.

  Steele Her Heart

  The Steele Brothers Book 4

  Acknowledgments

  My Betas, Courtnay, E.C., Jai, Chas, Tania, Janet, Taneesha, Kim, Isabelle, Jojo, Michele, Cynthia, Heidi, Vikki & Lisa— Thank you ladies so much for helping me with this novel. You’re always here for me no matter what, but this time I really needed you guys. You all tell me whatever I need to hear even if I don’t really want to hear it in the first place. From the bottom of my heart I thank you all for keeping me in check, even if it means being late on a deadline to give my body the rest I needed during the flu. Love you all so much!

  My Cover Designer, Clarise— It’s a little hard to believe we’re in the last book of the series right now, or that I’m even typing this. Thank you for continuously working with me and turning my vision into a reality.

  My Blogger Team— Well, we’re here y’all. Thank you so much for supporting the Steele Bros and I hope you enjoy how the series ends!

  My Editor, Kim and Proofreader, Jackie— Thank you both so much for putting up with my hectic schedule. I know it’s insane, and please know how grateful I am to have both of you by my side to help me get through all of this. I treasure you both so much as employees and friends. Well, let’s get onto the next one!

  Rae, E.C., and Raven— Thank you ladies for always being an ear for me to vent to. Whether it’s about getting writers block mid-wa
y through a book or something entirely miniscule. Its an honor to know you ladies and I love y’all dearly.

  Rae— You keep crushing it girl. I can’t wait for the amazing things that are coming to you in 2020. This is just the beginning!

  E.C.— Your motivation to succeed is inspiring. Keep up that attitude and keep doing what you’re doing.

  Raven— Here’s to being the longest running accountability partners ever. We got this! Let’s crush these upcoming goals. I’m so ready for everything coming our way!

  To the ones who are scared of their love— don’t be. Trust in it and live the happiest life you can.

  Timing Note

  Steele her Heart takes place after Covert (The Clans #9) written by Iris Sweetwater and Elizabeth Knox. The Steele family, in particular Madigan was a heavy focus in the storyline. Please be aware Covert is extremely gruesome and has scenes with detailed violence and/or torture. If you choose to skip Covert that is okay. Elizabeth will be touching base on what happened in that book during this story.

  Trigger Warning

  This book is intended for mature audiences only. If darker books are not for you, please do not move forward. After re-adjusting my trigger warning system, I will not be giving any spoilers. Please understand that this is not your run of the mill romance and tough subjects will be spoken about in this storyline.

  PLAYLIST

  Drew Berrymore — SZA

  Bad Liar — Selena Gomez

  The Cure — Lady Gaga

  Stay Together — Noah Cyrus

  Still Got Time — ZAYN ft. PARTYNEXTDOOR

  Malibu — Miley Cyrus

  Craving You — Thomas Rhett ft. Maren Morris

  All These Years — Camila Cabello

  Moonlight — Ludwig van Beethoven

  This Love — Camila Cabello

  Cry for Me — Camila Cabello

  Yummy — Justin Bieber

  Red Wine White Couch — Danielle Bradbery

  Prologue

  They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.

  ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

  Jordan

  That One Summer . . .

  Birds fly and swoop down to the lake to pick up fish as they come to the surface. I lay on the hammock that hangs between two trees on the sand, maybe a hundred or so feet from the small pier we have out here. After just graduating with my Masters in Business Administration I’ve needed the break before I dive into the family business. I have no doubt this will be the only break I ever get from my family.

  Just finishing The Art of War for the third time I place my hardback copy on the sand below, fully taking in the combinations of pink, orange and yellow that paints the picture of the sunset before me. It’s crazy to know I’m only a mere two hours from Atlanta and yet this is an entirely different world out here.

  The sound of a screen door not being shut properly jolts my attention toward the guest house where the one and only thing I’ve ever craved more than anything is staying. Lacey; my own personal forbidden fruit. She walks toward me in a deep red sundress, her dark hair flowing as the wind blows against her face. Her typical porcelain skin has been exposed to the sun’s rays giving her a light caramel touch these days.

  She never demanded my attention with her darling good looks or persona until I was shocked with her presence this summer. As far as I knew I had the lake house to myself, but I was wrong. My father gave Lacey permission to stay in the guest house and relax before she went to college. Ironic, right? I thought so at first until I had the uncanny feeling my father was trying to play matchmaker. It’ll never happen. Lacey is far too young for me, eighteen and I’m, well, a bit older than her.

  It doesn’t mean being here with her hasn’t been difficult though. Neither of us have really been communicating with the neighbors since they’re a good distance away. We barely go into town except for groceries and when we’ve gone together everyone mistakes us for a couple. I didn’t even correct them the first time it happened. Not sure why I didn’t. Hell, maybe I want people to think Lacey is mine. There’s this one kid in the store who is the epitome of trouble, always staring at her whenever we’re there. I’d break his fucking hands for so much as touching her. I’m sure a part of me says I’m not telling people the truth when they make their assumptions because I want to protect Lacey, but it’s far more than that. Or, maybe it isn’t.

  The girl has been through a hell of a lot in her life. She lost both of her parents in a freak car accident when she was barely a teenager. The one time in life where she needed them the most. Since then she’s been living with her grandmother, Esme, who has worked for my family for years. Esme is an extension of the Steeles in a way.

  “Jordy!” I cringe at hearing the god-awful nickname she’s given me since spending time together. Even though she’s a good distance away from me I can see the devious smile that spreads across her face as she extends her arm and shows me a bottle. Ah, she must’ve found my father’s stash.

  Barefoot and carefree she comes running up to me, hopping on the hammock like some relaxed hippy. I raise a brow, looking to her and the bottle. “A responsible adult would rip that from your hands.”

  “Good thing you’re not responsible.” Lacey chuckles, unscrewing the cap. She brings the nose of the bottle to her lips and takes a gulp, squints her eyes and shakes her head. I want to laugh, but she brought it on herself. My father enjoys strong, bitter alcohol.

  I roll my eyes at the cocky young woman, watching that devious smirk grow wider. Her deep chocolate brown hair now has bits of a lighter tone coming through it. My guess is the sun has done her some good. Her dark eyes stare intently at me as she offers me the bottle, “You can have a drink too as long as you don’t go pouring it out. Our relaxing summer is ending really soon.”

  It’s the end of July . . . so I don’t know why she says it’s ending. I don’t have to go anywhere for another month. “Way to be a Debbie Downer. We have all the time in the world.” I state, taking the bottle from her hands I take back a swig. Fuck, this is some strong shit.

  Lacey’s expression falters, “I’m only here through the weekend.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, we can move into our dorms on Monday, so I’m packing up Monday morning and heading off to college.”

  To say I’m shocked is an understatement. I thought we had more time together. I take another swig of the liquor, wanting the burning feeling to replace the one in my chest. “Jordy, you okay? You look sad.” Lacey asks, placing her hand on my forearm.

  I take a deep breath, feeling her light touch on me and internally curse myself. Every decent part of me is telling me I need to walk away, but the damn devil on my shoulder is telling me to do what I want, to give into this.

  This would be one night of passion, pleasure and need. She and I are going our separate ways and I’ll get it out of my fucking system.

  Fuck it.

  I pull my hand back, making it so I’m holding hers in my own and freeze. Every positive and negative thought is running to the forefront of my mind at the same time. If I do this . . . if I cross this line with her and shit goes south it could cause so much tension between our families.

  The question is: is it worth it?

  Here’s the thing, though. The devil on my shoulder doesn’t care about anyone else. I know what I’m going to do, but I’ll have to treat her like the delicate flower she is. Lacey isn’t ready to see the depths of my inner darkness. Hell, I don’t think she’ll ever be ready. No woman ever has been.

  Chapter One

  Beneath every behavior there’s a feeling. And beneath every feeling there is a need

  ~ Unknown

  Lacey

  Present Day . . .

  Moonlight by Beethoven plays in the background as I stare at the notes I’ve taken from my session with today’s client, Mumbe. She’s a recently immigrated Kenyan-American woman who started sessions with me last week. We’re meeting once a week for the foreseeab
le future, but today she revealed something I wasn’t quite prepared for.

  At first, I sensed some anxiety when it came to her sexual needs. She didn’t want to answer certain questions I had the last time we met and it made me believe there was some aspect of trauma she hadn’t yet revealed. I was right, and I hate it when I’m right.

  She expressed some discomfort when stating she’d been going out on dates with men as of late. Although, when the relationship starts to veer towards the sexual realm she always sabotages herself. Mumbe identified the issue and went online to find someone like myself who could help her with her problem.

  Today Mumbe revealed to me that at age sixteen her father mutilated her vaginally. Female circumcision is something that’s commonly done in countries like Kenya and so many more. While there are activist groups calling for the immediate halting of this practice, I believe it will be years before it’s completely eradicated. These are cultural differences after all. They didn’t happen overnight and they won’t stop overnight either. She belongs to the Kamba people, or did before she came here to the United States. While female genital cutting has been banned since 2011, it’s primarily done underground in an illegal form. Mumbe was cut before it was outlawed, however she expressed her personal distress in our session today because it’s primarily done in the homes of where these girls live now. I can only empathize with the pain she feels. I am not a Kenyan woman, nor have I ever had firsthand experience with the trauma so many Kenyan women go through.

  I stare down at my notes contemplating how I’m going to help Mumbe. She’s the first client I’ve had in this particular scenario. My self-doubt comes screaming into my mind but I quickly gather myself. There are reasons sex therapists are certified, it’s another resource we can use to chat with our colleagues and see the successes they’ve had in treating women in similar situations.