Table of Contents
Prologue
Epilogue – Chloe
Asher
Chloe
Killer
Scandal
A Dirty Money Novel
Isabella Starling
Piper Hart
Contents
Prologue
1. Asher
2. Chloe
3. Asher
4. Chloe
5. Asher
6. Chloe
7. Asher
8. Chloe
9. Asher
10. Chloe
11. Asher
12. Chloe
13. Asher
14. Chloe
15. Asher
16. Chloe
17. Killer
18. Asher
19. Chloe
20. Asher
21. Killer
22. Chloe
23. Asher
24. Chloe
25. Asher
26. Chloe
27. Chloe
28. Asher
29. Killer
30. Asher
31. Chloe
32. Asher
33. Asher
Epilogue – Chloe
Copyright © 2017 by Isabella Starling & Piper Hart
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Dark Blood
Savage
Big Bad Wolf
His Brat
His Doll
His Muse
Daddy’s Girl
Prologue
June 2015
The baby was kicking. Hard. At the same time, the jarring sound of heavy footfall on the creaky old stairs echoed through the Colonial Revival house on Fontenot Avenue.
Catalina awoke with a start on the velvet-lined chaise sofa she’d fallen asleep on while reading and sipping hot chocolate. She rubbed her stomach and made soothing sounds to her little one as she peered in the direction of the stairwell. “There, there, baby boy, it’s all right. I think your daddy’s just come home,” she said, before calling out. “James, is that you?”
There was no response.
With a yawn, she stood up and stretched her weary limbs. Pregnancy could suck the energy right out of even the most hyperactive of women, and Catalina was no exception. She was five and a half months along now, and she often found herself dozing off midway through the movies and novels she occupied her days with. Sometimes even midway through dinner. James always found it so adorable when he came home to find her curled up fast asleep, and she was surprised that she hadn’t awoken to him stroking her hair just now, seeing as he loved to do that while she slept.
“James?” she called out again. “Where are you?”
Still no response.
She hadn’t actually been expecting him home tonight, because he had important family matters to attend to, but she’d definitely woken up because of a noise she heard—a noise which sounded exactly like heavy footsteps heading upstairs—and no one else knew she was here. Not a soul in the world.
It had to be James.
Perhaps he’d come to surprise her. Yes, she thought with a satisfied smile. That’s why he didn’t come to wake me yet. He was probably in the master bedroom right now, throwing crimson rose petals over the duvet and readying a bottle of scented oil so he could give her a sensual massage. He’d always been good at that.
Catalina’s smile grew wider as she slowly padded up the dark hardwood stairs. “I caught you, darling,” she called out with a giggle. “I know what you’re doing.”
When she reached the top of the stairs, she took one step forward before pausing and peering down the hall toward the left. The master bedroom door was wide open, and the light was off. James wasn’t in there. It seemed she was alone after all.
Realizing that she must’ve simply heard the house settling and sleepily mistaken that for footsteps creaking up the stairs, Catalina sighed and turned to walk back downstairs, one hand gently resting on her swollen belly in a protective gesture while the other gripped the ornately-carved wooden balustrade. One foot precariously hung over the edge of the landing, about to take a step down, and she almost stumbled with shock as a voice sounded behind her, chillingly close.
“Catalina.”
With a start, Catalina gasped and quickly regained her footing. Then she turned to see a familiar face. A face which certainly didn’t belong in this house.
“What are you doing here?” she asked with a frown.
A reply to that question was not forthcoming. At least not in the way Catalina would have expected.
“I know what you did,” the intruder said, voice disturbingly calm given the wild-eyed gaze that accompanied the words.
“I don’t under—”
In a flash of movement, the intruder’s arms stretched out to push Catalina, hard, and she screamed and fell backwards, airborne for a split-second before she hit the stairs and tumbled down, over and over. Everything was agonizing sensation as she rolled—searing pain in her limbs, a blinding ache in her skull, cramping in her belly. Her body finally came to a halt at the intermediate landing, but a swift kick from the intruder sent her flying again, all the way to the bottom of the stairwell.
Winded and broken, she lay there, gasping for air and words. “Please…don’t….my…”
She tried, but she couldn’t quite get the words out to form a proper sentence, and judging by the grim dark shadow of the intruder hovering above her, she didn’t think it mattered anyway.
They didn’t care.
They just wanted her gone.
The pounding in her head intensified, and sticky warmth coated her inner thighs as her belly cramped with stabbing twinges of pain. Her throat constricted as she struggled to get air into her lungs, and the room seemed to be getting dimmer with every second that passed. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a brief silvery glint, flashing quickly toward her.
And then everything was pitch dark.
One
Asher
“Fuck you, St Clair.” My friend Liam smirked at me, throwing down his deck of cards.
I grinned back, pocketing the money that was lying on the table between our seats. I’d known the game was mine since the start. Liam Prescott had the worst poker face I’d ever seen, but that was a secret I’d rather keep to myself.
It was always good to have a few aces up your sleeve.
Especially when you were Asher St Clair.
Promising law student. Bright future. Money coming out of my damn mouth. Women hanging off my arm.
The girl in my lap slid lower, her pussy bare under the skintight dress she wore. I stroked her thigh absentmindedly, rubbing the soft skin until she moaned with pleasure.
“Asher,” she said, leaning down to whisper in my ear. Her thick hair enveloped us like a curtain, hiding us from the rest of the players. I could smell the booze on her breath, which she’d probably mixed with some heavier shit. “Fuck me, please.”
I balanced her on my knee as she began to grind her pussy against my pants, moaning with n
eed. Giving a pointed look to Liam, I lifted the cigar in my free hand to my lips.
Liam got up right away, always ready to play my right hand man. He led the rest of the players away, leaving me and my brunette Barbie doll all alone.
“Wait just a minute, baby,” I said once the guys had all left. “Learn to be patient.”
“But—”
“Did I say you were allowed to speak?”
She shook her head, then threw it back, a low sound escaping her throat. “Maybe I’ll do you a favor,” I said against her neck. “Maybe I’ll slide my fingers inside, just for a moment… just so you can see what you’re missing.”
The girl—whose name I hadn’t bothered to remember—moaned, her whole body shaking as my fingers toyed with the hem of her dress. I caressed her skin softly, but Asher St Clair didn’t usually do gentle. I dug in with my fingertips, the brunette gasping as my nails left marks on her inner thigh.
“Please, Asher,” she said in a raspy voice as my index finger touched her swollen lips.
“Beg for it,” I said.
“Please. Please fuck me.” Her voice was low, deep and lustful.
“Fuck you where?” I asked.
“Right here,” she rasped. “On this table. In front of everyone…”
I was going to do exactly that when I saw my cell phone light up with a call on the table. With a sigh, I pushed the lusty brunette off my lap and discarded my cigar in an ashtray. I pushed away the countless bottles of booze and grabbed my phone.
“Yeah?”
“Asher. My partners won their latest case. Verdict was handed down today,” a firm masculine voice told me. “The man they were charging will be going away for a long time.”
“So?” My voice was stiff. “Don’t bother me with this shit, it’s my night off.”
“I’m not calling you as a fucking intern,” the voice told me. “I’m calling as your damn father. Can you please show some support?”
“No,” I replied, the brunette following me, the scent of her pussy heavy in my nostrils. “I can’t. Your associates won a damn case, la-di-fucking-da. It wasn’t even your case, from the sounds of it.”
Silence. So predictable, old man.
“Again, why did you call me with this?” I asked with an exasperated sigh.
“If I must remind you,” my father started icily. “You’re going down the same path as me. When you finish school, you’ll be prosecuting and defending criminals just like your father. A life you chose, Asher, and—”
“No.” I cut him off. “A life you chose for me.”
“Leave it,” he said, and I could hear how tired he was. “I don’t know why I called anyway. Stupid decision to think you might care about anything other than yourself for once.”
I sighed, knowing we were just going to keep going around in circles until he told me the real reason he called. “Whose case did your firm win, then?” I asked, pushing the brunette off me.
A silence followed, and finally my father spoke up. “The case against James Carlyle.”
James Carlyle.
The millionaire property mogul who killed his mistress.
My mother.
I felt no remorse for the man. He was where he belonged, no matter the kind of person my mother had been. If you could really call her a mother. It wasn’t like she’d ever been around after what she did when I was just a baby. Still, despite any resentments I held toward her, I suppose she was still my biological mother. That meant something, no matter how small, and she hadn’t deserved to die.
Not like that.
“I gotta go, Dad,” I said, pushing the thoughts aside. It’d never done me any good to think about this sort of shit in the past, and it wouldn’t now, either. “Congratulations to your associates, but everyone knew he did it, anyway.”
I cut the line and pocketed my phone. No one was going to mess my night up, not even the almighty Robert St Clair by reminding me of what had happened a year ago. He’d never acted like a father, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to play the good son now just because his partners put away the guy who did my estranged mother in.
I’d rather push away all the negativity and have some fun before my last year of college in the fall. And this summer was going to be unforgettable.
The brunette was waiting for me, perched on the arm of the chair I’d been sitting in moments earlier. I approached her, ready to make her day, when she leaned over the side and puked up her dinner.
Great.
I turned around, clicking my fingers to make sure someone took care of the inebriated brunette. In seconds, one of the girls at the party appeared next to her and I left. I had no time for bullshit, and I wasn’t going to waste my night by babysitting her. She should learn to handle her damn self.
As I walked through the room, I could feel every pair of eyes in there on me. I wasn’t just influential because of my last name, I fucking ruled the campus. Asher St Clair was a name everyone knew, and I didn’t ever let them forget it.
My eyes scanned the crowd in search of someone worth my attention. Plenty of girls there, but none of them caught my eye. That is, until my gaze landed on a gaggle of them, looking way too young to drink.
“Liam,” I said, and my man appeared next to me in a second. “Those girls don’t look old enough to be here. Escort them out. I don’t need any trouble.”
Liam nodded and left to do my bidding just as the group separated, showing me what they’d been hiding in the center. And fuck, was it a sweet center.
Long-legged, hair to her ass and a delicious body. Big blue eyes and brown locks, dressed conservatively in a dress that would look better on the floor of my bedroom.
“Wait,” I called after Liam, and he stopped in his tracks. “Not that one. She can stay.”
My eyes followed the pretty brunette across the room. She was stunning, tall and willowy, with a sexiness she probably had no idea she exuded.
I watched her answer her phone next, and I saw her brows furrow with anger and sadness. I kept watching while I poured myself a drink. She was on the verge of tears, her pouty mouth trembling with sobs threatening to escape those full lips. It was time for me to talk to her.
The one thing I liked better than a damsel in distress? Said damsel on her knees, sucking my cock like a pro.
I started walking toward her, a purpose in my step. Slowly, the brunette’s eyes floated from the floor upwards until she met my gaze. I smirked at her, already imagining the way she’d taste as she came, bucking her pussy against my lips.
“Hello, darling,” I said once I approached. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and I would bet anything she was going to cry if I hadn’t come closer. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?”
She looked at me, her eyes full of surprise. “Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first before you use the word ‘panties’ in a sentence when you talk to me?” she asked. She sounded as if she was trying to be confident, but her voice was shaky.
I chuckled and quirked an eyebrow up. “You don’t know who I am?” Obviously a freshman, then, if she was even old enough to go here, anyway. “Why are you at my party if you don’t know me?”
She had the decency to blush. “I’m sorry. I can leave right now if you want.”
“Nonsense.” I shook my head. “Tell me why you’re so upset. I’ll make it all better.”
She averted her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. I wanted to bite her, pull her against my body and make her shake harder. One thing at a time, though.
“I just got a phone call,” she said.
“I saw.” I nodded, and a silence lay upon us. Not feeling the tension, I stepped closer, only a few inches separating us. I looked down at her, tipping her chin back with my fingers until she was forced to look at me again.
“What’s your name, pretty girl?”
“Chloe,” she managed to get out.
“Chloe,” I repeated. “And what was the phone call about, Chloe?”
“My…um…my dad.” She
seemed to be struggling to get the words out. “He’s…he’s in trouble.”
“What did he do?” I smirked at her. “You look like a good girl, Chloe. Bet your daddy didn’t do anything wrong. Bet you he’s just checking up on you, making sure you get home safe and stay away from bastards like me.”
She tore herself out of my hands, surprising me with her spunk. I was going to have fun breaking this one.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Sure.” I grinned at her, stopping myself in time before I made another remark that would get me in trouble.
Chloe was a real stunner. She had a great ass and a pair of tits I wanted to bury my face in. I bet her pussy hadn’t even been touched yet. I bet even more I’d be the first one to taste her sweetness.
“Come on, darling, I’ll make you feel better,” I told her with a smile. “I know you’re sad. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
“No,” she replied. Her voice was stiff, but her eyes had a vague hint of lust as she looked at me. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.”
“Can you at least tell me your last name, then?” I asked. Fucking asked. Asher St Clair asked for nothing, and here I was, making an exception for this angel-face.
She looked up at me like a doe in the headlights. She was so damn innocent, but I would bet you anything she’d love it dirty. I wanted to find out first-hand.
“Carlyle,” she said. “It’s Chloe Carlyle.”
I gave her a blank look. Fuck me, it couldn’t be true.
“Chloe Carlyle?” I repeated. “As in…”
“Yeah.” She cut me off bitterly. “As in, my famous daddy killed his mistress and was sentenced to life imprisonment. Today.”
As in Chloe, the daughter of my dad’s client. The daughter of the man who killed my estranged mother. As in trouble, stay the fuck away.
As if.
“Chloe,” I said with a saccharine smile. “I don’t give two shits about your father. All I care about is you, darling. You look upset. How about I walk you home?”
Scandal (A Dirty Money Novel) Page 1
