by Jane Henry
I watched in rapt fascination as she wiggled out of the shorts she wore and stripped off the little white t-shirt. I’d taken her back to her place earlier today to pick up some clothes, and she’d slipped on the shorts and t-shirt when we’d gone to take a “nap.” Her breasts heaved as she took in breath, her voluptuous thighs wiggling as she shimmied out of the shorts.
“Good girl. Hands on the vanity.” Her gaze once more went to the belt, and she hesitated before she leaned over and grasped the sides of the white marble.
I leaned over and picked up the belt, the jingling sound of the buckle making her jump. Running a hand from her shoulder down her lower back, I let the heat of my touch brand her. I needed her to know that she’d be okay.
“Afraid, baby?”
She hesitated before she nodded. “Maybe a little.”
I lifted the belt. “Be afraid of how upset I’ll be if you hurt yourself,” I said, bringing the folded leather back in my right hand while steadying her with my left hand on her back. I snapped the belt against her ass, and she hissed out a breath, going up on her toes before she settled back again. A fiery red line lit up across her backside. Good.
I lifted the belt and laid a second stripe, and a third, grateful the thrumming of the water in the shower gave us the momentary privacy we needed. She took each lick of the belt with eagerness, returning back to her position, her legs spread wider.
“You’re mine, Haven.” I punctuated my command with another slap of the leather, leaving my mark on her.
“Yes,” she panted. “God, yes.” I gave her another lash of the belt for good measure, then laid it on the counter, pressing up close to her, my cock against her heated ass. I anchored myself on her thighs, loving the way she leaned back into me. Bending down to whisper in her ear, I ground my pelvis against her.
“Will you be a good girl?”
She nodded rapidly, turning her head so she looked over her shoulder at me. “Of course. And if I don’t behave?”
I slapped my palm against her thigh. “You know what happens.”
She grinned.
I led her into the shower, soaped her up, and ran my hands along her slick breasts, teasing her nipples. My fingers easily slid through her folds, and she was so ready after her spanking, she quickly came, her arms draped around my neck for support. Leaning her supple body against the shower wall while she grabbed the bar for support, I took her from behind, the rhythmic sound of water drowning out her moans and mine.
When we were done, I shut off the shower, stepped out and dried off, then led her out and towel-dried her myself. She was as supple as suede in my hands, and a thrill went through me, like I’d won the lottery. Hell… maybe I had.
We joined the others shortly after.
“Hungry, Haven?” Sabrina asked from her place by the stove. She turned breaded chicken breasts with a pair of tongs in a skillet, and the smell of simmering garlic and onions on the skillet beside the chicken made my stomach growl. But I wouldn’t eat until later. I needed to be alert and on my best game so I wouldn’t miss a thing during our conversation with Ms. Bianchi, and the last thing I needed was Sabrina’s chicken cutlets and pasta making me drowsy.
“Yes, please,” Haven said. “Mmm, that smells delicious.” She and Sabrina had formed an instant kinship, no doubt forged by solidarity in being the only women amidst the “frat house” masses, as Sabrina called us. I was glad, though. Haven needed a friend like Sabrina. I swallowed hard. Damn, being on the cusp of another breakthrough in bringing the Bianchi family to justice was making me all sentimental and shit. I cleared my throat.
I could see Walker sitting with his laptop, his fingers typing rapidly. “You guys ready to take off?”
“Si, hermano,” he said. “You seen Xavier yet?”
Xavier stepped into the kitchen right then. “Yup. Standing right in front of me. Smelling like his cologne cost more than the average college education.” Xavier rolled his eyes, but I was only half-teasing. If people looked “like a million bucks” when they went out, Xavier looked like a billion. I didn’t give a shit what he looked like, but Alberto Bianchi definitely would, and Stella probably would too. Xavier played his cards well. It was a smart move. Conniving, one might say.
I was reluctantly proud of him.
“Dude, I’m about ready to ask you out on a date myself,” Caelan muttered from the doorway, stroking his chin. He wore a t-shirt that clung to him and sweat pants, like he’d just finished a workout.
Anson groaned from where he sat in the living room with Walker and Sabrina and Haven giggled.
“He’s right, Xavier,” Haven said, turning to Xavier with an appreciative glance. “You look fabulous.”
I pursed my lips and rolled my eyes to her, which just made her giggle harder. Figured. Maybe I hadn’t swung that belt hard enough.
I reached for her hand, as the others joined us in the kitchen and Sabrina plated food.
“Got what you need, Walk?” Xavier asked, buttoning his cuff link.
“It’s a go.”
“You’ll be sure her phone is disabled, and she can’t call for help?” Haven asked.
Walker nodded. “Of course. You doubt me?”
“Never,” Haven grinned, and it was so fucking sexy I wanted to take her right back to our room.
I considered the merits of renting a separate apartment for the two of us and relying on conference calls with these guys.
“The rest of you be on standby in case you’re needed,” Xavier commanded, fitting a comm device in his ear that was so discreet, once his hand left his ear I couldn’t see it anymore. He gave me a nod, and I took the comm Walker offered me, fitting it in my ear, as Walker did the same.
Walker stood, rocking on the balls of his feet, dressed in a black suit coat, his dark hair combed back. His frenetic energy fueled mine, and a vibe of anticipation wove its way through my core.
“Let’s go,” Xavier said, no doubt feeling the same nervous tension but keeping any possible anxiety hidden, though the energy in the room crackled like a live wire. I squeezed Haven’s hand, though I didn’t know why, but when she squeezed back, I knew. I needed the reassurance as much as she did.
Xavier eyed us with something akin to wistfulness in his eyes, but then he pulled away, schooling his features as usual. Walker was already opening the door. Caelan clapped him on the back and Anson gave them a chin lift as they left.
Damn, these guys were my brothers every bit as much as Eli had been.
We needed them to get shit done now.
“Yes, sir, whatever I can assist you with,” Walker said, his Spanish accent thicker than usual in the comm device in my ear. Though we were in the penthouse, the sound came through so clearly, he could’ve been sitting beside me.
“Dude, what’s with the accent?” I scanned the screen we had on the outside of the limo that gave us a view to the street, while Caelan sat next to me and scanned the other cameras that gave us a view in front of Walker. The limo was outfitted with so many cameras, it was almost as if we sat right there with them.
Walker grinned. “If she thinks I don’t know English, maybe she won’t talk to me. The less she talks to me, the better.”
I shook my head. “She has to even notice you’re there,” I said.
“Then stop hitting on me,” Walker deadpanned, pulling up to the curb where the Bianchis lived. Xavier’s voice cut in from the back.
“Shut the fuck up and behave. This is arguably the most dangerous thing we’ve ever done, and I don’t want your juvenile behavior ruining it.”
I rolled my eyes heavenward. “For Christ’s sake, don’t get your panties in a wad,” I muttered, which made Walker guffaw like a teen. Xavier let out a string of curse words in the back.
“Mr. Malone has arrived,” Walker said in a barely intelligible accent, right before he stepped out of the limo and onto the sidewalk, opening the door for Xavier. He tipped his hat to him, and I wondered if I was the only one who noticed his middle
finger pushing the brim of the hat up.
I glanced at the cameras that followed Xavier. I drew in breath and let it out slowly, observing every single detail. This was where the Bianchi family lived. The words of Eugenia Carmichael came back to me.
“Their greedy tentacles reach into every branch of law enforcement, every institution meant to protect the population from evil men…”
How many people lay in shallow graves because of this family?
“Fucking disgusting,” Walker muttered, taking his seat back in the limo. “Bought with blood money.” I shuddered at the vivid imagery, but hell, he was right.
“Shut up,” Xavier ordered.
“Is he always so pleasant?” Haven purred in my ear. She’d been fitted with a comm, too. I grinned, turned, and pulled her onto my lap, happy that everyone heard her comment.
“Not always,” Walker cut in. “He can actually sometimes be a total douchebag, believe it or not.”
“Wouldn’t have to be if I worked with fucking adults,” Xavier hissed.
“Behave now, Mr. Malone,” Walker chided, shaking his head. “You approach his Majesty, Alberto Bianchi. Ignore the voices in your ear, dude.”
I turned my head to the side and watched as the massive, elaborate door to the apartment building swung open, a man in a suit ushered Xavier in, and the door shut behind him. Xavier could be an asshole, but even I had to admire his bravery. He was sticking his neck out for all of us, and the guy had cast-iron balls. The comms fell silent, listening in on Xavier. Our cameras wouldn’t follow him.
I cased the street through the camera feed but saw no signs of anything amiss. Xavier would do his job. Then the rest of us would do ours.
“She sounded scared,” Haven whispered. “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”
By the time Stella Bianchi had discovered her date with Xavier was just a front, and Walker was driving with speed to an entirely different location than the restaurant where Xavier was supposed to have been taking her, our counter-surveillance systems were in place. She couldn’t use her phone, our limo was no longer traceable, and we were confident we were no longer under the Bianchi’s watchful eyes. Walker had pulled into an unmarked lot, parked the limo, and the three of them had gotten into a smaller car, like a getaway.
“She ought to be scared,” I said without remorse. “Think about what she’s done, Haven.”
“Still…” Haven’s voice trailed off, and she bit her lip, an adorable habit I was beginning to find fucking arousing.
“They’re three minutes out,” Caelan called. “Places, everyone.” Anson sat on the couch, and Sabrina prepared drinks, as she’d said she’d try to make this inquisition as pleasant as possible. Caelan left his spot in front of the monitors, making his way to the elevator to block Stella’s exit should she try to leave after Walker and Xavier got her up here, and Haven and I took seats right near the door to the library. I remembered the first time I’d set foot in this place. I’d been filled with trepidation then, and I wondered if Stella Bianchi felt the same. I hoped she did.
When the doors to the elevator slid open, the first person off was Stella, her face a picture of utter fury. She attempted to pull her arm out of Xavier’s firm grip, but it was useless. He held her elbow like a principal leading a student to detention for smoking on school grounds. Though she stomped her feet and screamed, he merely rose his eyes heavenward. “Don’t waste your time, sweetheart,” he drawled, not letting her go, but leading her in to the library.
Walker followed behind them, his face a mask of controlled fury. This was the woman who could tell him whether his friend LC had been another of the Bianchi’s victims, so I couldn’t blame him for his anger.
“I’m going to let you go, only if you promise to behave yourself,” Xavier said in a voice laced with boredom. “If you do anything but sit down where I bid you to do so, I’ll have to restrain you. If that’s what you need, Ms. Bianchi, say the word.”
I had to hand it to the guy. He was playing this perfectly.
“No,” she sputtered, her voice louder and more abrasive than I expected. “Get your fucking hands off me, or I’ll scream!”
Xavier sighed, brushing an imaginary speck of lint off his lapel. “You’ve already demonstrated what a fine pair of lungs you have. It would do you no good to try it again. As abysmal as the soundproofing within this place is, our exterior soundproofing is the best that money can buy. Your cell phone has been jammed, and there’s no way out without getting through Caelan.” Xavier gestured toward the towering giant who, for once, managed to act as intimidating as a man his size ought to be, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Stella. “At the risk of sounding like the villain in a horror film, Ms. Bianchi, no one can hear you scream. And there’s no need for dramatics, at any rate. As long as you cooperate, we’re not going to hurt you.”
“Unless we have to,” Walker growled, but Xavier silenced him with a curt shake of his head.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Xavier repeated, louder this time.
She looked around the room with wild eyes, as if suddenly realizing just how many people surrounded her. Though Sabrina and Haven looked at her with sympathy, I suspected my own reaction mirrored the other Masters’: implacable. She had a story to tell, and we’d get it from her.
She had wide brown eyes framed with thick, dark lashes and delicate brows. Her long, dark hair nearly reached her waist. She wore a sequined evening gown that clung to her shapely figure, and silver platform heels, but even so, was a good foot shorter than Xavier.
“Fine!” she screamed. “You overgrown… oaf!” She practically sputtered it like an oath. Caelan coughed into his hand, and I bit back a smirk. Walker, however, was not amused. He pulled a footstool over, shoved it toward her and hit her at the back of the knees, not hard, but enough that she fell to sitting with an “Ooomph.”
She fixed him with a glare, which he returned, as he pulled out his tablet and a stool for himself. Caelan stood guard by the exit.
Positioning himself so close to her their knees nearly touched, Walker’s accent was thick when he spoke, and not in the affected way he’d practiced on the way to the Bianchi’s, but in a way that showed he was on the verge of losing control and angrier than I’d ever seen him. His eyes were like glowing coals, his voice as sharp as a whip. He glared as he fired up his tablet.
“Enough,” he said. “You can protest all you want, señorita, but you’re here because an innocent man is in jail because of you.”
At that, she stilled.
“You’re here because you and a man, whose only crime was getting involved with you, witnessed an execution in the back of a bar. You corroborated your cousin Carmen’s testimony that Luis had raped her, knowing full well Luis Rivera was innocent and that her goal was to discredit him after he attempted to go to the police. Is this true?”
She paled, as her eyes swung around the room to look at us. “Is… is what true?” she whispered.
“I just got out of jail, Ms. Bianchi, and met your boyfriend myself,” I said.
She swung her nervous gaze to me, and her eyes narrowed, no doubt taking in the red hair I’d dyed back the day after Bonneville. She pointed a finger in my direction, her voice wavering when she spoke. “Wait. You… I know you. You were at Robby Fletcher’s house party. You… you stole my necklace! You’re a thief. Are all of you criminals?” She paled, as her eyes swung around the room to look at us.
I shrugged a lazy shoulder but didn’t reply.
She looked then at Caelan, and Anson, then back to Walker, who was seriously in her space.
Xavier rolled his eyes. “Answer the questions, Ms. Bianchi. Is what he said about Luis Rivera true?”
She frowned at him, ignoring his command. “So you’re not going to hurt me, but you’re all a bunch of liars?”
From where I sat I could see Walker tap a button on his screen, and Stella’s furious face showed on the screen, a little red button flashing on
the bottom. He was recording her.
“Tell us what you know,” he bit out.
She flinched. “I’m not telling you anything.” Closing her mouth, she rolled her eyes, and looked away.
Haven looked at me, her brows rising, and God, it was then that I remembered my girl was an attorney. This was her deal. If Walker’s half-assed intimidation tactics weren’t working, maybe Haven’s would. She didn’t want to wade in where she wasn’t wanted, and she’d let us run things until now, but the look she gave me begged for permission
I nodded slightly. She took a breath, pushed herself to standing, and walked toward Walker and Stella.
“Allow me?” she asked.
Walker’s eyes came to mine for a brief second before he looked away and nodded to Haven.
“Ms. Bianchi, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Haven said, ignoring Stella’s glare and acting as if they were meeting for coffee. “We have it on good authority that you and your former boyfriend Luis Rivera, witnessed an execution in the back room of a bar your family owns. A bar called Silver.” She smiled sweetly, though her voice cut like a knife. “Is this true?”
Stella set her jaw and didn’t speak. Haven pressed on. “Ms. Bianchi, the time for games has come to an end. We know that Luis was framed, and that he was no guiltier of raping your cousin than I am. Isn’t this true?”
Stella looked away, her jaw clenched.
“The name of the bar was Silver,” Haven pressed on. “And you were held and threatened that night. You somehow managed to cajole your brother into allowing Luis to live, rather than watching him slit Luis’ throat, didn’t you?”
Stella swallowed, looking up at Haven in surprise. She probably correctly assumed that very few people alive knew that truth. I could practically see the calculations going on behind those wide brown eyes.
“Ms. Bianchi,” Haven said, firmer this time, and everyone in the room held their breath as she continued. “There is no hiding from this anymore.”
