Stolen Hearts: A Dark Billionaire Collection

by Elizabeth Knox

  I spot Cal’s SUV from a few hundred feet away and pull up beside it. He must not have left for the night yet. Hmm, odd. He only comes out here twice a day to check on things, so I wonder why he’s deciding to stick it out and stay here for longer.

  I put my car into park, take the key out of the ignition and head inside. As soon as I’ve moved the barn door over to the right I lean down and grab the hatch for the trap door and walk down the steps, ensuring to close the door behind me.

  If it were possible, I’d say it seems darker than it did the last time I was here. I know it’s only my mind playing tricks on me as I continue down the narrow hallway and walk to the room at the end. Pieces of hay are scattered across the ground to pick up any moisture that comes in here from being underground and a low illumination comes out from under the doorway. I place my hand on the door and push it open, seeing Cal give me a look that tells me he thinks I should get the man some help.

  The thing, man, or monster sits on the ground, holding onto his arm as he coughs repeatedly. Based on the color of the floor I’d say he’s been coughing up blood for a good while, but it could be red because of his arm as well.

  It looks like he still hasn’t pulled off all the barbed wire I wrapped around him yesterday. “We should take him to a doctor. His breathing is becoming even shallower. Plus, look at his coloring.”

  The man is white as a sheet and I can’t help but smile, knowing the man who killed my unborn niece and mutilated my little sister will soon meet his maker. Ever since that fucking day I’ve ensured he’s only felt one thing— suffering.

  “Give me my knife,” I order Cal.

  Instead of following my instruction he simply stares, acting like he didn’t hear a damn thing, or maybe he’s acting a fool. Regardless, it isn’t a good look for him. “You can’t be serious. Show the man some mercy, Jordan. He’s dying.”

  Show Franco Falcone mercy? I don’t think so. “You mean the same mercy he showed my sister when he cut her hip to hip, ripping her child from her. That type of mercy?”

  Cal instantly shuts his trap. He knows why I won’t show Franco one bit of kindness. He shouldn’t be forgetting what happened to his boss’s wife, my little sister . . . fuck. I feel like it’s all my fault in the first place.

  I was the one who arranged a meeting with them all those years ago, blindsiding her. I can’t help but feel my actions played a role in her pain, even if I was trying to do what I thought was best for the family.

  “Cal, you should get going. I called some friends to come down and help me with this . . . trash when you told me he was ill.” Franco lifts his eyes at my words.

  “Boss, I don’t think—”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you think, Cal. Get lost.” I roar out.

  Cal must accept defeat and walks past me. I hear his boots against the concrete floor and him going up the trap door stairs from the doorway and glare down at Franco. “Are you ready for what’s coming your way old man?”

  “You bastard. Can’t even let me die in peace.” Franco huffs.

  “No, and I never will. If you’re going to die on my watch it’ll be as painful as every day has been for you. I want you to remember why you should’ve never touched a hair on my pretty little sister’s head.”

  Franco chuckles from the floor, smirking even with most of his teeth being pried out. “I will never regret what I did. If anything I did this world a favor, removing one Steele from continuing the bloodline.”

  I rush over to where Franco sits and wrap my hand around his throat, squeezing with all my might. “Hear this old man. The war will only begin with your death. I will hunt down every Falcone and watch the life disappear from their eyes. In ten years no one will even remember your pitiful family. Vinny was just the beginning, and I’m glad he died. He deserved it for what he did to Madigan. Fuck, for what you all did.”

  Franco snickers, rasping out only a mere sound. I don’t let up on my grip because I don’t care to know what he’s trying to say.

  “As you go to meet your maker remember my face, Falcone. This is the face who will watch over your sons as they sleep and slit their throats. This is the face who will take the same thing away from their wives as you did to my sister. No more Falcones will ever be born as long as I’m alive. Your entire family is dying with you.” I place my free hand on the other side of his neck and squeeze tightly, choking him with all of my might even as he struggles. Falcone flails his legs, trying to break free of the grip I have on him but it’s no use. He won’t get out. I’ve made up my mind and he will die for what he’s done.

  The life dissipates and I loosen my grip, allowing his dead weight to fall to the side— quite literally.

  Out of nowhere I hear the heavy footsteps of someone and pull the Glock from my holster, pointing it down the hallway only to come face-to-face with Seamus from the Skulls Renegade MC. He’s known as Ollie to us, though. We grew up with him in Atlanta.

  “Holy fuck. Didn’t you call us down here to help you torture the bastard?”

  “Yeah, plans changed.” I reply.

  “You mean you got carried away. You always were a sick fuck, shit.” Seamus chuckles.

  “How many of your boys came with you?” I question, having a lovely idea pop in my head.

  Seamus laughs before he stops abruptly. “About that . . .”

  “What the fuck is goin’ on down here? Shit!” My eyes go wide at seeing Seamus’ wife, Daisy alongside another woman who I’ve seen with a member of his club. A few feet behind is the other fellow, he goes by Dmitri. Ah, the other woman is Dmitri’s wife, Jenna.

  “I thought you were bringing four men, not your wives down for a couples retreat.” I snap.

  “C’mon, Jordan. We have kids. We needed to see some real action and get out of our homes.” Daisy whines.

  Just as she’s whining I come up with a masterful plan. “Actually . . . you two may be useful to me.”

  Jenna takes a few steps toward me with a sinister look in her eyes. “What do you need us to do?”

  “My mother made an unexpected visit in town. I need you two lovely ladies to go pay her a visit and make sure she understands she shouldn’t step foot in Atlanta ever again.”

  “Why not just kill the bitch?” Daisy asks.

  “Because she’s my mother,” I respond.

  Logan is right. I give her a little bit of slack, but after what I heard yesterday, I know she isn’t truly mother material at all. We were only a means to an end. Now she’ll understand what it means to be on the opposing side of the Steele family, even if she is one of us.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Show me the most damaged parts of your soul, and I will show you how it shines like gold

  ~ Nikita Gill

  Lacey

  I woke up to an empty bed and wish I could say I expected different. I was so angry when I saw I was left alone, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised when I saw a text from Jordan saying he was sorry and he had to go handle something for the company but had a great time with me. It made me feel so good, instantly rectifying the punch to my gut of only a few minutes prior.

  I took a long hot shower, made some coffee and blended an organic smoothie for breakfast all before getting dressed and leaving the house. Unlike the past two days I’ll be going into the office today. There’s no doubt in my mind that it’ll be so much different than any other workdays I’ve had before. Typically my grandmother and I would always have lunch, but that won’t be happening now. Not since she was let go by Logan and scooped up by Christian and Selena to help watch over the little ones.

  I swiftly change into one of my typical ensembles, head down to where my Jeep is parked and go straight to the office. I have to admit, it’s so odd walking past my grandmother’s old desk seeing it empty. Usually I’d stop and chat with her for a good ten minutes or so before going into my office.

  My office. Man. I’m lucky that I didn’t have to move everything in here down the hall to be clo
ser to Jordan. In most cases that’s what happens when there’s some sort of transfer, you automatically move to be closer to your boss.

  Digging my hand into my purse I grab my keys and put the one for my office in the door, unlocking it and walk inside. I turn on the lights first, set my coffee cup down next to my desktop and throw my lightweight jacket on the back of my chair. I’m always one to get a chill so I never hang it up.

  I don’t know how to explain it but an eerie feeling washes over me as I press the power button on my computer. Out of instinct I glance up and see Madigan, who’s Jordan’s younger sister, come strutting down the hallway with her eyes focused on the right-hand side. Something inside me feels like I need to stop her so I do, I get up and walk into the hallway, put on a smile and try to strike up some conversation with her.

  Madigan’s red hair has grown even longer in the past year, almost hitting the small of her back. She looks like one of those women who could be on a shampoo commercial but considering Brooklyn was speaking with Madigan last week about something at her beauty company . . . I bet that was it. That or she has some skincare regimen she wants Madigan to endorse.

  “Morning Madigan, how are you doing?” Madigan stops immediately.

  “I’m fine. I really need to see Jordan. Is he here?” She’s extremely short in her words, obviously only wanting to get to her brother.

  “Let me check his schedule and see what he’s up to. If memory serves me right, he came in early for a meeting he had with some contacts in the U.K. Hold on a second while I find out.” I turn around and head over to my computer while I hear Madigan curse from behind me.

  “Fuck his schedule,” My eyes widen at her statement and every fear any assistant has ever had when a bomb is about to implode on her boss comes rushing to the surface. It’s one of our many duties to ensure our bosses don’t have to put up with unwanted visitors, even if they are their family. I don’t know what’s going on with Madigan right now, but it obviously isn’t good. By the time I’ve turned around she’s already halfway down the hall and I’m chasing after her in my kitten heels.

  The one thing that irritates me more than anything else is how the Steeles feel like they don’t have to play by the rules. Almost as if they aren’t obligated to. Well, newsflash: they are.

  I catch up to Madigan just as she shoves open Jordan’s door and follow her inside, shutting it behind me. “I’m so sorry, she was insistent on seeing you now.” I state, not able to get the entire truth out since it looks like he’s on a business call with some of our Mandarin counterparts.

  Jordan gives me a curt nod and looks to the webcam in front of him, “I apologize but it appears I have to cut our call short. We’ve gone over everything pertinent to today’s meeting. If there’s anything you might’ve missed or need to tell me, please send me an email.” Jordan doesn’t wait for the men on the other end of the video call to acknowledge what he’s said but simply ends the meeting abruptly.

  “I . . . I can’t believe you.” In my opinion Madigan sounds angered as hell. She clenches her hands at her sides and I watch as her light skin flushes with a red pigment.

  Jordan stands there, furrowing his brows together as he does what he always does— assessing the situation. He’s the most calculating man I know and I’m not shocked with how he isn’t saying a word, instead letting her take the lead in this moment.

  “Cal told me everything, about what you did.”

  Now Jordan reacts, biting his bottom lip with a gaze that makes me feel like he’s going to hurt someone. “Of fucking course he did. Dickless piece of shit.” I don’t know what’s happening right now, what I’m sure of is Cal told Madigan something she wasn’t supposed to know. Oh crap. I wonder if this has anything to do with the other business the Steeles are involved in?

  Madigan rushes over to her brother and runs straight into his chest. Jordan appears to be shocked at the way she collided into him and even looks more confused when sounds similar to hiccups come from her. If I’m not mistaken, she’s overcome with emotion. Possibly crying. Jordan wraps his arms around his younger sister and holds her, placing his chin on the top of her head. “I’m sorry for my part in everything.”

  Madigan takes a step back and looks up to him, “What are you talking about?” I feel odd standing in here observing whatever this is but feel like going outside would just make one of the office interns privy to their private conversation.

  “With Falcone. I egged him on, Madigan. I brought him to Atlanta a couple years ago and . . . I think I stirred the pot. He ended up grabbing you and . . . I feel like you lost so much that day because of me. Not only your daughter but your ability to have any more children.”

  “Franco didn’t do that because of you, silly. He wanted to punish me as a way to get back at me for murdering Vinny. He hurt me in the one way he could, by . . . killing my child.” Madigan sucks in a deep breath and backs up a few steps. She walks over to the window while I assume she’s gathering herself.

  If anything Madigan has been through her own fair share of personal hell. From the abusive boyfriend Vinny Falcone to being ripped in half, quite literally, by his father. I knew she’d gone through one hell of a time and had been tortured, but I never realized how. The Steeles had made a press release stating their sister had lost her second child but no one ever found out how. It was made to seem like a miscarriage, but I understand the optics of wanting to keep a low profile.

  Think about it. If word got out she was brutally harmed the authorities would’ve been notified and kept an eye on the Steele brothers for retaliation. They handled it in the smartest way possible.

  “I was a dick to you when you first came to us,” Jordan tells her.

  Madigan chuckles lowly and turns to look at him from the window, “You were cautious of me. Rightfully so, and I can say that now I’ve been part of this family for quite a bit.”

  I take this as my opportunity to cut in and not eavesdrop any longer, “You both seem to be having an extremely personal conversation. I’m going to skedaddle and leave you to chat. I’ll clear your schedule for the next two hours, Jordan. If you need longer, let me know.”

  Madigan gives me a nod of thanks while Jordan smiles lowly. “Thank you, Bun—” He starts to call me by my pet name when Madigan’s eyebrows rise and she focuses in on her brother.

  “Don’t you mean Lacey?”

  “Yeah, sorry I got distracted.” He stammers out, not playing it cool at all.

  I leave his office before I get caught up in an even more uncomfortable situation.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Owning a mistake is greater than perfection

  ~Unknown

  Jordan

  Madigan giggles the second the door to my office shuts behind Lacey. “You’ve never stumbled over your words before, but you sure did right there. Want to tell me what that’s all about?”

  I slide my hands into the pockets of my pants and lean against my desk. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Oh, don’t pull that crap with me. You just got caught red handed and we both know it.”

  “I did not.”

  “You did too!” Madigan claps her hands, proving her point. Damn, if I had to grow up with her I’m sure I would’ve strangled her for being so sassy all the time.

  “Fine. We might be a thing,”

  “You mean post-summer thing?” Jesus. I can’t help but roll my eyes at her ridiculous tone. Overly excited is a drastic understatement.

  “Yes,” I respond, a little uneasy. “But you can’t tell the others yet. I’ll do it in my own time. I mean it Madigan, don’t tell anyone. If Esme finds out before I talk to her she might skin my hide.”

  “No she wouldn’t. Esme loves you all. Why would you even say something like that?”

  “Because, Lacey is her pride and joy. She’s the last memory of her late daughter, and . . . well, we all know how Esme treated Lacey’s father.” I state, shifting my stance just a tad. In Esme’s eyes I may be a
great man but I’m not the type of man she envisions with her granddaughter and I’m sure of it. She’ll treat Lacey the same way she treated her daughter no doubt.

  “This doesn’t make any sense, Jordan.” My sister tells me, searching my eyes for answers.

  “I don’t remember much, but I remember one time Lacey’s dad came into the office for an interview here. He had just gotten his Bachelors in Business Management after getting his GED, turning his life around for the better. He had a really rough childhood and Esme was outside of dad’s office. She saw Lacey’s dad, Nolan, come in and started cursing up a storm. She didn’t want him with Francesca because he wasn’t Latino and that was after Lacey was born.”

  “And you think Esme will feel the same?” Madigan questions, completely understanding what I’m saying.

  Normally I’d contemplate something for a bit before I made a definitive answer, but I don’t require that much time right now. “Yes, I do. I don’t think her opinion will change. Francesca ended up marrying Nolan and look what happened— they died.”

  “Jordan, you aren’t Lacey’s dad. You have no idea how Esme will feel about you dating her.”

  “You’re right. I don’t, but it would be best for me to anticipate pushback. Wouldn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t think you need to stress yourself out about it.”

  “I’m not stressing myself out. I’m simply being a realist, and it’s realistic for me to assume that when Esme catches wind of our relationship it won’t be positive.” I clearly state. Even as much as I want it to, I don’t think it will. I think Esme will want to stick to her beliefs and while I accept it, I need to be prepared for it too if she decides to turn on me.