by Nora Ash
I walked to the safe and tapped my nails against the black surface. It was a dial combination lock, and I had no idea what the hell the code could be. It wasn’t like Marcus had mentioned any lucky numbers while we’d fucked.
Lost, I pulled the folded-up piece of paper Brigs had given me from my purse and sat on Marcus’ leather office chair to study it.
It was mainly names, of family members I presumed, and only two numbers right next to each other. Dates, I realized, thirty-four years apart. I tried those first, with no luck.
Come one, Evelyn. You can do this. What kind of numbers would a man like Marcus use to secure his belongings? I chewed on a fingernail as I stared at the safe for a few minutes. There were no clues in the office—it was as devoid of personality and decorations as the rest of his flat... Hang on.
I let my gaze sweep over the list again, finding a familiar name again. Aidan. His nephew—and the only family member who had made it into a picture frame in Marcus’ home. What was that date at the bottom of that frame?
I swiveled the chair back into position and half-jogged back to the living room, doing my best not to wince for each step. The reminder of what I’d spent the night doing was impossible to ignore. Guess that’s what I got for breaking almost a year’s worth of a dry spell with a stallion-sized ride rather than something a little more beginner-friendly.
The light from the city offered enough of a glow for the quiet living room that I could easily navigate my way to the picture frame without turning on the lights. I picked it up, glancing at the cute baby before zeroing in on the date below the picture. The first of August 2015.
I hurried back to Marcus’ office, doing my best to ignore the sense I was betraying someone much too good for me, and hunched over in front of the safe. Backing out now was going to do nothing but get me into some serious trouble with Brigs.
01-08-2015.
The clink of metal pins sliding into place from the safe’s locking mechanism sent a little jolt through me and I bit the inside of my cheek as I pulled the heavy door open and looked inside.
There was a small pile of papers in the safe, a passport, and a couple of piles of fifty pound notes, along with a pen drive. I reached for the pen drive and quickly closed my hand around it, relieved that I’d managed the task I’d been set.
But just as I was about to close the safe, my eyes caught the piles of money again. There had to be nearly fifty thousand pounds in that safe.
Apart from tonight, I had never stolen in my life. Not even a pack of gum. My mother had raised me right. But of course, my mother couldn’t have predicted I’d one day be under them thumb of mafia scum, paying back a loan I should never had accepted.
If I paid Brigs back in cash, I’d never have to work for him again.
The problem was, with my waitressing job, I would be in his debt for years to come. Maybe even a decade, the way he calculated interests. And here were stacks of money, right in front of me. If I took just £10,000 I could walk away from this job and never look back.
I bit my lip as my gut clenched. But I’d be stealing them. From Marcus. And not because I’d been forced to, but for my own personal gain. There was a difference of morality, even if it probably wouldn’t technically be much worse than what I was already taking from him.
My hand hovered over one of the stacks of bills as I gnawed on the inside of my cheek with indecision—until a chilling thought struck me. If I completed this job successfully, there was nothing to stop Brigs from making me do it again to some other guy.
And I was pretty damn sure I wouldn’t be as happy about climbing into bed with whoever else he pointed at.
I grabbed a stack of bills and quickly stuffed it into my purse next to the pen drive, zipped it close, and slammed the safe shut. Better a thief once than forced to steal and whore out my body indefinitely.
After making sure the office looked exactly like I’d found it, I snuck back to the living room where my clothes still lay in a pile on the floor, but as I bent for my underwear, I paused. If I left in the middle of the night, it would seem awfully suspicious. Much better if I stayed the night and left in the morning—it wasn’t like he would think to check the safe while I was there, anyway.
I put my purse back on the counter where I’d left it the night before and tip-toed back to the bedroom, telling myself that my decision had nothing to do with wanting just a couple more hours of pretending like what I’d experienced in the arms of Marcus Steel had been real.
* * * *
Chapter 6
Marcus
How could a human being be so completely and unabashedly perfect?
And so fucking beautiful? From the light sprinkle of freckles across her nose to her flaming hair and pink lips, Evelyn’s face looked like it belonged to an angel. My own, personal angel whose voice alone made my nightmares melt away.
She sighed when I touched her cheek as gently as she touched mine last night in her attempt at comforting me.
I couldn’t remember the last time anyone saw me in the aftermath of losing control like I did last night—I didn’t know if anyone ever had, and the echo of her concern still rang inside of me, like a warm trickle from behind my ribs.
Was this what my brother felt for his wife? Was this the woman who would have been mine, had things been different?
I pressed a hand to my chest when the pleasant sensation behind my ribs turned to a sharp ache and clenched my teeth against the rush of regret.
I lost control with her. I could have hurt her.
Though, when my conscience snapped into blackness from the sting of her nails, it didn’t feel like it did all the other times. The split second I had to recognize what was happening, it wasn’t a murderous rage that encapsulated my brain. It was… euphoric.
I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing with everything I was that there was a way this wouldn’t be the last time I got to wake up with her in my arms.
I knew there was no point wishing for it, but I did it anyway. She was too pure, too innocent. Much as I wanted to give in to every roaring instinct in my body to claim her like some primitive beast, I couldn’t. Someone so genuinely good shouldn’t be tied to my darkness. But it felt good to pretend, even if only for a few seconds.
“Evelyn.” Even the taste of her name on my tongue made me crave more of her.
“Mm?”
I opened my eyes at the sleepy grumble below me. Her eyes were open too now, if somewhat unfocused.
“Did you say something?”
Her sleep-roughened voice made me smile. She was so fucking cute. “Morning.”
“Mmhm,” she purred, and my body recognized the sultry undertone, immediately rendering me rock-hard. God, how does she do that?
I shifted, sliding the sheets down her naked body to move in between her legs, ready to fulfill the need I heard in her voice, but the sight of several finger-shaped bruises on her biceps and hips made me freeze, my heart dropping.
“I did hurt you.”
“Hmm?” She followed my stare and shrugged when she spotted the marks on one hip. “Oh. It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine at all.
Disgusted with myself, I pulled back and got out of the bed before I got too lost in the need for another release between her thighs.
“No morning sex?” Evelyn said, and when I dared a glance at the bed, I caught her disappointed pout.
“No.” Why was she so dead set on getting lost in my darkness? She knew what I was—I knew she saw what everyone sees when they meet me. Someone dangerous. Even the women who’d previously made it to my bed recognized it, but I knew they disregarded it for the draw of my body or power. I didn’t understand why it wasn’t like that with Evelyn, but I knew that wasn’t why she told me to take her home with me. Almost like she felt the draw between us as keenly as I did, like she knew it was a bad idea but couldn’t stop herself any more than I could.
“Breakfast?” I asked, because I needed to take my mi
nd off her dusky pink nipple peeking up above the sheets. I wanted to close my lips around it so bad.
“Nah, I need to leave soon anyway,” she said with a sigh. “Thanks, though.”
Hot, dark anger ripped at my insides, so unexpectedly I had to bite down on a pained grunt. Leave? She wanted to leave me?
It took me a couple of seconds to fight back the monster enough that I could muster a short nod. She was always going to leave, and it was for the best anyway. I had nothing to offer her—nothing but darkness.
Yes, she could have been my wife—in another life. But not this one.
“I’ll take you home.”
“Oh.” Her voice betrayed her surprise. “No, that’s not necessary.”
I frowned at the dismissal. “Evelyn. I’m taking you home.”
“No, you’re not.” Her tone changed abruptly, sharpness making its way into it for the first time since I met her. I could hear her get out of bed but resisted the urge to turn around and look at her. There was not enough willpower in the whole world to make me keep my hands off her if I saw her standing naked in front of me like she had last night.
“Evelyn—”
A quick kiss landed on my back, making a shiver travel up along my spine before she waltzed past me and out of the bedroom.
I followed her mindlessly, trying and failing not to look at her round arse. She stopped next to the kitchen island and bent to pick up her clothes. I finally managed to turn away, before memories of what we did on that counter made me lose the final slivers of my already flagging self-control.
“I’m not letting you get a cab. I’ll drive you.”
“Stop trying to boss me around. You’re not particularly scary with morning hair. Now shush and zip me up.” She stepped around to my front, a mischievous smile on her face before she turned her back.
I zipped up her black dress, resisting the urge to let my fingers glide along her soft skin as I did.
“I’m a big girl. I can get home on my own,” she said, turning around to look up at me. A flash of regret passed across her features, so quick I almost missed it, before she forced a smile on her face and raised up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “Thank you for a wonderful night, Marcus.”
I stared at her as she grabbed her bag, waved with her fingertips, and walked out my door. Leaving me.
The blinding pain as the monster bellowed its fury made me stumble forward, leaning heavily against the kitchen island.
God, I need her. I need her. I…
…How did she know my name?
* * *
It had been a long time since I felt so unsure of myself.
I’d been sitting in my car outside her run-down apartment block for nearly an hour, and it wasn’t going to get me the answers I wanted. But the longer I stared at the door, the less sure I was of what would happen if I went in.
I gripped the steering wheel harder, doubt blooming in my chest as it had been since I’d grabbed my car keys and followed her taxi to her apartment.
She knew my name, and I was 100% sure I hadn’t told her. I’d seen enough betrayal in this business to know never to ignore signs of things being off. But even as my innate mistrust gnawed at the back of my skull, I was still clutching the damn steering wheel.
Because if I was being honest, answers weren’t what I was here for, not really. I was here because all I could think about was her arms wrapping around my neck and her lips pressing against mine.
I groaned and threw my head back against the headrest. Fuck. There had to be a logical explanation as to why she knew my name. If there was something wrong about her, I would have known. She was way too good, too pure to be mixed up in any business crap.
But what was a girl who lived in this shitty part of town doing at a club like Eleonore?
Fuck!
The truth was staring me in the face, even if I was too lovesick to want to acknowledge it.
Blackness flashed in warning from the sides of my vision and I pressed a hand to my chest to soothe the monster as I drew in deep breaths. When I finally got control of myself, I fumbled for my phone, my fingers tight. If she truly betrayed me, I wouldn’t be able to push the darkness down—and despite the monster howling in my chest, I had enough control left to know what would happen if I snapped.
Flashes of her body lying in front of me, mutilated and bloody like the people I’d murdered in my past blackout rages, made me push “call” on the twins’ phone number.
Thankfully, the line connected after only two rings.
“Marcus? Is everything all right?”
The concern in my brother’s voice was understandable. I never called any of them unless it was an emergency.
And this—this was an emergency.
“You need to come. Both of you.”
“Okay. Can you give us an address, mate?”
Right, an address—
Movement on the pavement next to my car caught my eye and I turned my head just in time to see a familiar figure walk past my Porsche and over to the the staircase leading up to Evelyn’s flat.
Leo Brigs. The nephew of Gerald Brigs, the man my brother Blaine threatened last year over a business deal gone wrong.
There was no longer any plausible deniability—if she was in with the Brigs, then she played me.
“Marcus? Come on, mate, tell me where you are.”
I flicked my thumb across my phone’s screen, hanging up. The monster growled low as I saw the door slowly close shut behind Leo.
* * * *
Chapter 7
Evelyn
When my front door finally slammed shut behind me, I let out a sigh of relief. I felt like the worst human being on the planet, and the only thing I needed was to be left alone with my own self-loathing.
I tossed my bag on my couch and stripped out of the black dress without stopping on my way to the shower. The sooner I could no longer smell Marcus on me, the sooner I could try to forget what I’d done.
Only the lukewarm spray from my semi-functioning shower couldn’t remove the delicate ache between my legs, and with every step I took while I got dressed and poured myself a bowl of cereal, I was reminded of the man who had made me feel things I didn’t even know existed.
If only things could have been different.
I sat down on my couch next to where I’d tossed my purse and put my breakfast down on the coffee table. The guilt in my gut made it difficult to eat.
Maybe if I saw what was on that stupid pen drive, I’d get some clarity?
With any luck, it would be a detailed description of how horrible a person Marcus really was. Perhaps then I could hand it over to Brigs without feeling like I’d betrayed someone who didn’t deserve it.
I got the pen drive out of my purse and plugged it in my laptop. As I waited for the machine to fire up, I contemplated the wad of cash I’d stolen from Marcus. Perhaps I should just throw away whatever was on that drive and tell Brigs I hadn’t been able to get the combination to Marcus’ safe, and then promptly pay them the money I owed them so they wouldn’t have time to get too pissed. That way I might still have stolen from Marcus, but at least I wouldn’t betray him. I didn’t know what his relationship was to the Brigses, but if they had someone try to steal information from him, I assumed they were not his friends.
Yeah, that seemed like a good backup plan, in case whatever was on the pen drive didn’t show Marcus murdering baby animals for sport.
When my ancient laptop finally managed to boot up, I quickly navigated to the pen drive’s folder. There was only a single file on there—a video.
Great. And what sort of video would a crime lord like Gerald Brigs be interested in? I clicked it, hoping against hope that I wasn’t about to watch something that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
The image that flickered into view was a little off-kilter, but clear enough. It seemed to have been shot inside a stately lounge or living room with thick carpets and mahogany furniture, but from a weirdly high angle
. It looked like someone had planted a camera on the ceiling. A surveillance camera, perhaps?
I jolted when I spotted movement on the video. An older, but handsome man with steel-gray hair and cold, gray eyes came into focus. He was pacing back and forth across the thick carpet, arms folded across his chest and his mouth pulled into a narrow line.
“You know there’s only one thing to do.” The man’s voice was a bit distorted from the audio, but the words themselves were clear enough. I couldn’t see who he was talking to, but the way he was staring across the room while he spoke it was obvious he wasn’t alone.
“He always was so goddamn cocky. I should have known that kid would be trouble. And now he thinks he can usurp me? His own father?!”
Whoever he was talking to responded, but the audio wasn’t clear enough for me to make out the words. The man in the frame shook his head, the angry slant to his mouth only becoming more pronounced. “If I give him a second chance, he’ll just see it as a weakness and pounce. I raised my boys well. Too bad Jeremy didn’t listen when I taught them the Steel motto: ‘Everything for family.’ Well, if he thinks he can bite the hand that feeds him, it’s time to cut him loose. I want him dead before the week is over.”
My stomach dropped as my brain caught up to the silver-haired man’s words. The Steel motto…? This was… was this Marcus’ dad?
And this Jeremy he wanted killed… was that Marcus’ brother?
Oh, my God. The pen drive contained proof that Marcus’ father wanted to kill his brother. Had he succeeded? Marcus had only mentioned his brother, Blaine, but then again—tragic family loss probably wasn’t what most people talked to their one-night stands about.
But why was he hiding this video? For blackmail? Insurance? Proof?
Why did Brigs want it?
I frowned. The man was giving instructions as to how the person off-camera should go about murdering his son. He seemed calm and cool through the entire exchange, if a bit annoyed. As if having to plan out his own son’s murder was a major inconvenience to his busy schedule.
