Boss? What boss?
What were they talking about?
“Evie, grab the phone.” Louis’s voice came through crystal clear. “I can explain everything.”
Oh, he would explain everything, all right.
She lost her car and committed a felony by killing a man.
In fact, he jeopardized everything between them. The police wouldn’t understand the story if she tried explaining it to them. They would associate her with a gang or part of an organized crime mob, especially after killing a masked vigilante.
She pursed her lips together.
How would Louis come back from this?
“Then explain.” She wiped the blood off her knife. “What the hell—”
“I assume people chased you this entire time.”
Evelyn furrowed her eyebrows at his remorseful tone. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t mean to drag you into this.” He stumbled over his words. “We needed the money to prevent this scenario from happening. Also, you hit someone. You should—”
“I panicked.” Her voice came out shaky. “Honest. I heard gunshots and hauled ass.”
“Yeah. She’s in the hospital.”
She held her cross. “Where are you?”
“You’ll see me soon.” His voice turned cross. “Marco will take you to me. That’s the guy standing next to you.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Who did you kill?”
“I don’t know.” She glared at one of the unnamed cronies. “An asshole who shoved a gun against my head. I didn’t have time to ask him for his name. He had his heart set on shooting me.”
“Steve.” The man holding her arm spoke, then shoved her forward. “You know, the prick we hated. No one will miss him.”
“Does she have my wallet?”
“Yeah.” Marco rooted a hand through her purse. “Seems like everything’s there, too. Damn thing’s heavy enough.”
“Bring her to me.” Louis’s tone became more authoritative. “Before Eisen’s men nab her.”
“The usual place, right?”
“Yeah.”
Usual place? Eisen?
What did Louis do for a living?
“I’m sure you have questions.”
She clutched her knife—turned into a thick chopstick again—until her knuckles turned white.
Questions did not begin to cover it.
“I’ll answer whatever I can after you’re done explaining yourself. You had another reason for taking my stuff. Oh, and before I go…”
Louis cleared his throat.
“I don’t give compliments often, but hearing you knifed a guy to death is a frightening turn-on.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. “Ah, thank you?”
“Follow Marco. He’ll bring you to me. If you live through the evening, I’ll give you a better weapon…something classier for my taste. But do me a favor. Please don’t die. You’re a charming woman and I enjoy your company.”
Then the call disconnected.
Evelyn gnawed her cheek. Flattery would get him nowhere. He dug a deeper hole for himself by hiring thugs to capture her.
How did Louis know these people?
She spat on the ground, snorting at her ruined pantyhose, broken heel, and her bloody dress. This was no way to greet anyone, much less businessmen.
They wouldn’t take her seriously.
She needed another dress.
Pronto.
“Marco, right?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
“Can I grab a change of clothes real quick?”
“Nah.” He tightened his hold on her arm. “The ripped up clothes give you story creditability, Mistress.”
Evelyn raised her eyebrow. “Creditability?”
“Sure.” Marco dragged her down the walkway. “Think of it from Louis’s perspective. He’s protecting you. If you freshen up, they’ll think he’s lying.”
“Who?”
“The Underboss, of course.”
Evelyn stopped. “What are you talking about? What happened to getting Louis’s wallet for him?”
“Oh, you’ll give it to him yourself, sweetcheeks. But you didn’t steal his money.”
“Ah, yeah. I did.”
He sunk his finger into her neck. “No. You didn’t. Hector’s the Underboss, not Louis. You stole his money.”
Her voice sank. “He’s pissed, isn’t he?”
“Well, he said to bring you back by force, so that should give you some indication.” Marco jerked her forward. “But if you hurt someone else, then you gotta pay your dues. You can’t whack people by accident.”
She stopped, then dropped her phone in her purse. “You remind me of a character in The Godfather.”
Marco snatched her weapons. “Honey, we make The Godfather cry. Now, where is your car?”
“At the beginning of the tunnel.” Her manicured finger pointed to the entrance. “It exploded, though. Most of it burned up. I kept running after the gunshots, so I'm not sure—”
“We’ll put Steve’s body in your vehicle and dump it into the Chesapeake Bay. It’s a better death than knifing him with a pair of knives concealed as hair sticks and kicking him into the highway.”
“These ‘chopsticks’ worked, thank you.” She combed a hand through her messy hair while they power walked. “And how are you—”
“Mistress, with all due respect, let me handle this.” Marco’s voice lowered until it rumbled. “I’m hired for this sort of thing. You women have one job—to entertain the boss. I swear, you all rebelled the moment a woman became a donna.”
Evelyn stopped again. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You’ll find out when you meet them.”
“No.” She yanked Marco backward. “Stop calling me Mistress. He’s not married, and neither am I.”
“With all due respect—”
“Louis is divorced.” She gave him a cheeky grin. “It’s funny what secrets slip when his friend has a little too much alcohol.”
“Listen, sweetcheeks.” Marco pushed her forward again, this time holding her shoulder as they walked. “You’re the first woman he’s been serious about since Marianne divorced his ass. But quit being cute and follow me. You know… before you have another accident.”
His fingers dug into her arm in a vice-like grip.
She bit her lip.
Dammit. That hurt.
The next time she met her lustrous businessman, she’d have to remind him on how to handle a lady.
* * *
Evelyn was used to dealing with violent men, but nothing prepared her for dealing with this Italian stallion.
She worked with troublesome clients in the past, but Marco manhandled her until they reached his car. By that point, she had enough and tried escaping, socking him in the solar plexus.
It didn’t phase him. He bruised her shoulder and gave her a split lip.
Evelyn punched him again, connecting with his stomach.
Marco went down on his knees.
She bolted.
One of his cronies caught her, dragging her back to him. He bound her arms with fetish knots, wrapping the rope around her breasts.
What a devious shit.
He tried asking her questions during the ride, but she stayed silent, ignoring his complaints. When she didn’t answer, he tried roughing her up again.
She headbutted him.
It knocked out one of his teeth.
Damn, she did a lot of damage to him. His left eye sported a shiner from stealing her weapons. Several scratches ran along the Italian man’s cheek. She bit his hand at one point, too. She didn’t draw blood, though.
If she had tried harder, she could have put him in a headlock. He gave her enough wiggle room to break free. No, she had to try knocking him out by shoving him through the back window.
He laughed.
Damn him.
As Marco guided her into the warehouse, he restrained her b
y grabbing a fistful of her dark curly hair. His other hand held onto the ropes securing her.
Then he breathed hard into her ear.
“If you want to live until tomorrow morning, quit pissing the boss off. Thanks for the workout and my new souvenir.”
She clenched her jaw, tightening her lips at his snide attitude.
Then she slammed her forehead underneath Marco’s chin.
He released her hair and dropped to the floor, going unconscious. Her purse and knives fell out of his hand, resting a few centimeters away from him.
Souvenir her ass. No one took her fucking weapons.
She moved over to her knives, trying to push one on her broken heel. Just a little closer and—
Shit.
Who taunted her by clapping? Louis? No. He’d never resort to snide clapping with those voodoo eyes of his. He’d charm them before they made their first move.
No, the clapping came from someone else.
It reverberated through her pounding ears, triggering another adrenaline rush.
Her senses heightened.
Her chest tightened.
She leaned forward, prepared to charge whoever attacked her.
“Evelyn.” Hector’s smooth voice rang from the other side of the warehouse. “So nice to see you, dear.”
Shit. Marco told the truth.
As if she needed more bad news tonight.
“I should carry a taser when meeting untamed bitches.” His voice came closer. “Maybe it would help them learn their fucking place.”
And he wondered why he stayed single.
“Stop hiding.” She darted her head back and forth, waiting for his attack. “Quit hiding in the shadows like a coward.”
“You’re a lively bitch, aren’t you?”
Evelyn shook her knotty hair off her shoulders. “You talk big when you’re hiding, asshole.”
Hector roared, then hissed. “I’m not the one stealing people’s money.”
Stealing was such a strong word. She didn’t steal Louis’s money to spend it. She used it to lure him to her place.
Except her plan backfired.
Hard.
“I didn’t steal anything.” Her fluttering heartbeat changed to near non-existent. “Well, not his money, anyway. But you shouldn’t have sent bombers and gunmen after me. I wasn’t after his goddamn money.”
Hector’s footsteps grew closer. “Your cousin learns her double-crossing ways somewhere. In fact, I’m going to teach you a lesson.”
Well, shit.
Time to rely on her superhuman strength.
Shifters were tricky fighters and Hector’s anger amplified his shifter abilities. They relied on their senses and their primal urges. Joe served as the perfect example. Werewolves killed their prey whenever someone touched their women. A hair trigger set him into overdrive and the end results weren’t pretty.
He killed people when he got heated. Hector would do the same thing. Some species reacted to hair triggers, annihilating their enemies in seconds.
Evelyn gulped.
God always cursed her with dangerous shifters.
Judging by his footsteps, he controlled his shifter side with ease. He roared at her a moment ago, too. The bastard kept his distance, but he kept circling around her.
He toyed with her. No… stalked her.
Great.
Just fucking great.
She pivoted, lowering herself into a half crouch. Screw it.
She’d use her weight as a battering ram.
Hector came closer, touching her face.
Evelyn stepped back, tripping over her feet.
He grabbed her restraints, spun her around, and wrapped his large hand around her throat. His claws grazed her skin.
She kicked at him, gasping for air.
“You’re a fiery bitch.” The devilish shifter tightened his grip on her before lifting her off the ground. “You should have been mine. You’re strong and ferocious. Perfect traits for the lioness of my pride.”
Evelyn croaked.
He lost his ever-loving mind.
The warehouse doors slammed open. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Pittering raindrops turned into a downpour by the time the thunder stopped.
Another set of footsteps stomped against the concrete floor.
Who came after her now?
“Hector.” Louis’s cold voice echoed through the building. “Put her down. I said I’d handle her.”
Evelyn shivered.
“This isn’t about your wallet anymore.” Hector tightened his grip. “She’s stolen a lot from us, you know. I found out some insightful information before I called you this evening.”
“I don’t care.” The emotion left Louis’s voice. “It was my money. Now, let her go.”
“Whatever.” He lowered Evelyn to the ground, pulling her head upward until her neck cracked. “This bitch stole ten grand, you dunderhead. Ten fucking grand.”
“Yes, she did.” Louis’s voice lowered in embarrassment. “She did a remarkable job, too. However, she stole nothing else, so ease up on her. Otherwise, I’ll have to discipline you for being a bad kitty.”
Wow.
This couldn’t get any weirder.
Men—normal men—protected their women from dangerous, man-eating shifters. They didn’t joke about discipling them. They beat them and used shock collars to keep them in line. If those didn’t work, they resorted to drastic measures, such as fighting to the death.
Her vampy had powers. Serious powers.
Why wouldn’t he use them on Hector?
“Why do you care about a harlot?” The shifter’s fingers edged toward her jugular vein. “All those blasted escorts are the same. Besides, I don’t know her well. She could be another whore on Baltimore Street.”
Sometimes, she wished Jemina never took part in prostitution because people assumed she taught her cousin those behaviors. No one ever called her a whore before, though.
Evelyn bit her lip.
What a self-righteous prick.
“How dare you.” She held her head high, imitating her assailant’s withering glare. “Those whores on Baltimore Street would have killed you and spent the money in one night. Knowing them, they would have bought drugs.”
They would have, too.
People in Charm City stole everything after mugging or beating a man to death. They were cutthroat as hell. They had no shame proclaiming it to anyone who would listen. They even wore their stolen goods as trophy prizes. A couple of kids made city headlines by wearing a dead pair of Nikes.
The whores would have had a field day with Louis’s money and bought enough crack to forget why they lived on the street. They would’ve overdosed, but the temporary high would have worth it. If they wanted to hallucinate before meeting God, that was their business.
They could do as they pleased.
“All right.” Hector lowered his hand to her chest. “I’ll admit, the whores would’ve killed for a chance to hold ten thousand dollars. Not the point, though. You’ve stolen money from me at other times.”
Evelyn leaned forward. “What?”
“You heard me.” He grabbed her sore shoulder, sinking his claws into her skin. “Your building hasn’t paid its protection fee in months. I should give you an ass-whooping.”
She licked the blood off her lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Louis, frisk her and get the goddamn money.” Hector held her in place. “Make it quick. Eisen wants her, remember?”
“Excuse me.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, but her voice stayed raspy. “Who the hell is Eisen?”
Her captor squeezed her injured shoulder harder. “You’re fucking with me.”
She shook away the black dots dancing behind her eyes. “Ease up. You’re hurting me.”
“I don’t believe this.” His voice rose with every word. “You hit her with your BMW earlier. Now, you’re pret
ending you’ve never heard of her. Unbelievable.”
“Hector, stop it.” Louis’s footsteps came closer. “I’m not sure if Evie has dealt with shifters before tonight.”
How sweet. He cared.
Too little too late, though.
“I have.” She closed her eyes, fighting off the beginning of a tension headache. “I’ll negotiate with you when someone cuts these ropes loose. You should treat a lady properly, you know.”
Hector tsked. “Proper ladies don’t sell themselves to the highest bidder. Now, there’s the matter of your unpaid protection fee. My accountant says you’ve skipped out for the last six months. And before you feign ignorance, you’ve paid it before.”
Oh boy.
Who paid for something that ridiculous? Humans never paid a protection fee. Well, except in cities with the mafia, but Charm City didn’t have gangsters. Never did.
This had to be a bad dream.
A few lights flickered above her and the light shined upon Hector. The slick black suit fit his no-nonsense personality. His eyes sparkled, matching the cunning smirk spreading across his lips. The black and white stripped fedora mirrored the ones found in mafiaesque movies, contacting with his golden blond beard.
Evelyn hid a chuckle.
Her life turned into a mafia romance movie.
“Answer me honestly, Evelyn.” He trailed a finger along her jawline, scraping his claw across her skin. “How much money do you think you and your yell-raising cousin stole from me?”
She lowered her head. “Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb, woman.” His claw rested underneath her ear. “You’ve been stealing money like the world owes you something.”
“I’m being honest.” Evelyn kept her voice calm. “I can give you the name of my accountant. He takes care of my taxes and other expenditures. I’m not a numbers girl.”
His claw scratched underneath her earlobe. “You expect me to believe that bullshit story?”
“It’s not bullshit.” She narrowed her eyes. “My account handles everything.”
“Don’t lie to me, woman.”
For once, she told the truth. Her accountant handled all her taxes for the last three years. Well, him and Jem. She couldn’t leave the office during tax season. However, Jem’s secretive behavior spiraled out of control.
