Beautifully Brutal (Southern Boy Mafia #1)

by Nicole Edwards

  Which meant he did have to relay the threat to Max.

  Regardless of whether Angelica intended to follow through, Leyton would not have that one hanging over his head.

  He just didn’t intend to tell the boss about it tonight. At least not until Max and Courtney had finished … whatever it was they were doing.

  ■«»■«»■«»■

  Angelica’s hands were shaking, her chest vibrating from the hatred that filled her. She’d been so fucking pissed at being dismissed she’d lost it, and that asshole Dane had gotten the chance to see her true nature. When he’d attempted to pull her toward the back door after she’d informed him she wouldn’t be leaving, she’d been pushed to her limit. It had only taken a second to retrieve the blade from her purse, and when he’d ushered her closer to the exit, she’d turned the tables on him, slashing back at him, not even caring what part of him she hit.

  He’d screamed like a little girl when the serrated blade had made contact with his face, and she’d dragged the damn thing down, trying to do as much damage as possible.

  She hoped he fucking died, the little prick.

  These people truly had no idea who the fuck they were dealing with, and she hated the sweet, innocent act she was forced to play while in their company.

  Once the limo started down the road, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and pressed the number for the one man who would do whatever she wanted.

  “Honey, are you all right? It’s late,” Artemis Winslow asked when he answered the phone.

  “She’s a problem, Grandpa.”

  “Who?” he inquired, sounding more awake than he had a second ago.

  “That … whore of Max’s. I want her out of the picture.”

  “What brought this on, Angel?” he questioned, using the name he’d called her since she was a child growing up in his house after her parents were tragically killed in a freak ice storm that had sent their car off the road and careening over a cliff. Angelica had been three at the time, and she didn’t remember a thing about them.

  “I went to the club to talk to him about moving up the wedding date tonight and—”

  “Why would you want to move it up?” Artemis interrupted, the sleep completely gone from his voice. “We’ve got the venue set, and the wedding planner is working with that date in mind.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I want her out of the picture.”

  Silence ensued, and Angelica forced herself to calm down.

  “I’m not sure what you want me to do, honey,” her grandfather finally said.

  “I want her eliminated. Nothing and no one will come between me and Max. Do you understand me? She’s not part of the plan. I need this to play out the way we discussed.”

  “I understand what you’re sayin’, Ang—”

  “No. You don’t understand. I’m set to marry him and that … fucking whore… She’s a threat. She’s a threat to Max; she’s a threat to me; she’s a threat to the entire plan. This wedding must take place. Neither of us can afford for it not to.” Angelica had no intention of going into the reasons why. The fact of the matter was, she needed to marry Max, and they couldn’t wait. The longer they waited, the harder it would be to…

  “Angel, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you, Grandpa. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Ending the call, Angelica tossed the phone onto the seat, wrapping her arms around her waist in an attempt to hold herself together. She was quickly losing control, and that was the last thing that needed to happen. She had to keep pushing forward. She had to marry Max, and she couldn’t let anyone get in her way. It was the only way to keep from dying at the hands of…

  Shit.

  If Max only knew what she’d done, what she was capable of doing…

  Damn it.

  If Marcus Alvarez found her, realized she’d run, ignoring the cartel’s orders … she was as good as dead. Although he was merely a distributor, a low man on the totem pole, Angelica knew he was powerful enough to take her out. The only way she could fix this, to keep from being tortured and murdered for her betrayal, was to marry Max, to use him as a safe haven. Marcus wouldn’t want to endure Max’s wrath. No one wanted to endure that.

  By marrying Max, she would be safe. In turn, she’d be able to feed some more information back to Marcus, and maybe he’d forget she ever existed.

  Then again, until it was all said and done, Marcus should’ve been the least of her worries.

  Hell, if Max ever found out what she’d done, that she’d already betrayed him in an attempt to establish her own reputation as someone formidable, he’d probably kill her himself. This was her only bargaining chip.

  Max could protect her, she knew that much.

  Which was why Angelica had to eliminate the one woman who had the power to destroy it all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  His timing… Quite frankly, it sucked.

  While Max moved across the room, Courtney was torn between keeping an eye on him and admiring the beautiful space she was in. His penthouse was … well, it was immaculately decorated, similar to Max’s house. Only this felt much more like home, as though she’d been in his thoughts when he’d talked to the designer. She couldn’t help but believe that was true, considering there were priceless pictures of Marilyn Monroe on the wall. She didn’t think he was much of a fan, but he knew she was.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she peered out into the night. The view was amazing as well. She could’ve easily spent hours sitting there, staring out at downtown Dallas. Especially at night.

  Yes, it would be quite easy to get comfortable there.

  But that wasn’t an option.

  “I should go,” Courtney said, watching as Max took a seat on the sofa.

  “Sit. Down,” he insisted.

  “But I—”

  “Just fucking sit down, Courtney,” he growled.

  Courtney moved to the opposite sofa, lowering herself as she kept a watchful eye on Max.

  “Now just sit there.”

  She didn’t understand what he wanted, but she could feel the heat of his gaze. He didn’t move as he watched her, the intensity nearly enough to make her squirm.

  God, she’d missed him so damn much. Her chest ached from the lingering pain of knowing he was going to marry another woman, that their time together was officially over. Then again, he’d informed her of that when he’d come to her house the last time. He’d told her things were going to change. She couldn’t help but wonder whether she would’ve made a different choice if she had only known what he’d really meant.

  Her gaze drifted to the pictures. Had his future wife been there? Had she seen those pictures? Did she know about Courtney?

  Not that any of it mattered now.

  “How’d your assignment go?” Max questioned, interrupting the silence that had become nearly unbearable and causing Courtney to turn her attention back to him.

  “What assignment?” she countered.

  “The rich brat in California. That’s where you were, right? Keeping tabs on daddy’s little girl. Making sure she didn’t do anything stupid.”

  Courtney hated that Max knew so much about her. He shouldn’t have access to that sort of information, but somehow, Max always knew. During all the time they were together, she’d learned so little about his life, but he seemed to have every intimate detail of hers.

  “But she did do something stupid, didn’t she?” Max asked, drawing Courtney’s attention back to his face.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Or was that you, Courtney? Did you set that up? Get her behind the wheel and tip off the cops so they’d take her into custody? Freeing you from the bullshit babysitting job your daddy sent you on?”

  The inflection of his voice never changed, not an ounce of emotion in his tone, but every word slammed into her. He knew her too well.

  “That’s what it was. You were angry. Pissed that he’d given you another bullshit job. You shouldn’t have been
there, Courtney. But your father sent you away. Making sure that you weren’t close enough to keep tabs on what was going on here.”

  Courtney’s eyes widened as she processed his words. Max wasn’t just replaying the events of her life for the past couple of months. He was telling her something… That was the way he operated.

  “What?” Was he saying…?

  Max didn’t respond.

  Courtney slammed her glass down on the table and launched to her feet.

  Max followed suit.

  They circled one another briefly.

  “Did you…?” She came to stand directly in front of him, staring up into those mesmerizing liquid-gold eyes.

  “Did I what?”

  “Did you have me shipped off? Did you set that up?”

  Max didn’t respond, and the fury ignited in her bloodstream. Before she knew what she was doing, her hand reared back, and she aimed for his face, but Max stopped her. He grabbed her wrist before her open palm made contact with his cheek. In the next breath, she was flush against him, her arms braced against his chest, his face so close she could smell the whiskey on his breath, see the golden flecks in his eyes.

  Instead of letting him have the upper hand, she shifted, her knee coming up to take him out, aiming right for the family jewels.

  He was faster than she was, moving at the last second, and then she was on her back on the sofa, Max’s big body hovering above her, his knee pressed between her legs, his hand encircling her wrists, holding her arms above her head as he stared down at her.

  “Why?” she asked, fighting the anger and the hatred. Ignoring the desire that made it difficult to breathe.

  “Why what? What is it that you want to know, Courtney?” he growled softly. “Why I showed my hand and called in a favor? Or why I’m gettin’ married? Which do you want to know more?”

  Courtney swallowed hard, her eyes traveling over his face, taking in every inch of him, reliving every moment they’d ever spent together as it flashed through her mind. It’d always been like this… Their interactions were heated, passionate, and innately sexual underneath it all.

  Beautifully brutal, that was how she’d come to think of this thing between them.

  And now, as she stared up at him, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to leave her alone. She wanted…

  She simply wanted.

  And she hated herself for it.

  “Why would you do it? Why would you have me sent away?” she asked, trying to remember what they’d been talking about.

  “Your father sent you away,” he responded smoothly.

  “Why did you set it up?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Courtney squirmed, wanting to get closer, needing to get farther away. “Yes! It matters. Okay? It fucking matters.”

  “Why? Why does it matter?”

  Courtney’s lungs refused to fill with oxygen as she battled the anger, the hurt. The pain. Max had sent her away so that he could get engaged to another woman.

  “You made him do it.” Her words came out strangled.

  It wasn’t a question; she already knew.

  Nothing. Max didn’t say anything in response, and the emotion that bubbled into her throat embarrassed her, made her tear her eyes off his as she stared toward the window overlooking the city. She wasn’t going to shed a single tear for him. She couldn’t. Not once since the night he’d walked out had she completely given in to the devastating realization that she would never be able to have the only man she’d ever loved. Never had she cried for him.

  “Courtney.”

  She didn’t look at him. She didn’t want him to see what she knew he’d see in her eyes.

  “It’s a business arrangement.”

  Courtney’s head snapped back, her eyes slamming into his as rage filled her. “A business arrangement? No, Max,” she ground out. “Marriage is not a business arrangement. A contract is a business arrangement. A handshake. Hell, access to a front-row parking spot is a business arrangement. Not. Fucking. Marriage. Why? Why would you do that? Why would you marry someone you don’t love?”

  Max locked his gaze with hers, and the silence made her ears ring.

  She was breathing hard, waiting for his answer, needing him to tell her. But she never would’ve expected what he said next.

  “Because the woman I do love won’t marry me.”

  Courtney’s mouth fell open as she glared up at him. She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Couldn’t believe that he had waited until he was engaged to another fucking woman to tell her that he loved her.

  “Get. Off. Of. Me,” she growled, pushing against him until he rose to his feet.

  She sat up, holding her stomach for fear she might throw up, the pain and anger coalescing into a potent mixture of grief that closed off her airway, choking her.

  Thankfully, Max retreated to another room, giving her a minute to regain her composure.

  Not that she thought it was possible to put all the pieces of her shattered heart back together, but at least he’d had the decency to give her a moment to pretend.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Letting go… Not easy, no matter how many times he did it.

  Max paced the bedroom of his penthouse, trying to erase the image of the pain in Courtney’s eyes from his memory. He hated hurting her, but this arrangement—or whatever the hell she wanted to call it—was necessary. And ultimately, she’d pushed him into it. She’d pushed him away, which gave him the right to do whatever he needed to do.

  Marrying Angelica wasn’t something he looked forward to, but business was business. He had an organization to run, lives that depended on him. And this was merely a means to an end. It wouldn’t be forever, or so he continued to remind himself.

  Regardless, she had no right to be angry because she’d pushed him this far.

  She wouldn’t have him.

  No matter how much he wished it were possible, Courtney Kogan would never give herself to him completely. And if he couldn’t have all of her … well, then he couldn’t have any of her.

  “I need to go home.”

  Max stopped pacing, pausing to look at her as she stood in the doorway to the bedroom he’d had furnished for her. The king-sized bed, the antique dressers, the black silk comforter… It’d all been for her because he’d held out hope, something he’d never done before.

  He wanted nothing more than for her to reach out to him, to let him take her in his arms and love her, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  Not tonight.

  Not ever.

  He nodded, turning away from her again. “I’ll have my driver take you home.” Max retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Leyton, turning his back on Courtney as he moved to the window.

  “I need a car for Courtney,” he informed the man, ignoring the pain in his chest at the thought of her walking out the door. Again.

  “Yes, sir. Uh … we’ve got a small problem.”

  “What is it?” Max questioned, recognizing the concern in Leyton’s tone.

  “I just had a conversation with Angelica. It wasn’t pretty, sir.”

  That wasn’t surprising. “What did she say?”

  “She saw you with Courtney.”

  “And?” Max didn’t give a shit who Angelica saw him with. It wasn’t her fucking business who he talked to.

  “Well, when I escorted her out, sir, she made a threat. I didn’t think much of it until…”

  “Until what?”

  Max’s body went rigid as he listened to Leyton relay how he’d found Dane slashed from his forehead to his jaw, followed by exactly what Angelica had said to him. “Thank you. Let me know when the car arrives. Make sure there’s a detail on the car as well.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The call disconnected, and Max tucked his phone into his pocket. He turned to face Courtney once again. Knowing this would likely be the last time he saw her, he wanted some answers first. And he’d start with the question that h
ad haunted him for so long.

  “Why…?” He swallowed hard. “Why couldn’t it work with us, Courtney?” Her eyebrows rose, as though he’d surprised her with his question. “Explain it to me. Why did you always run?”

  “It never would’ve worked,” she said sadly, moving to the bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress.

  Max looked away, returning to the window. “Why? And don’t tell me it’s because we come from two different worlds. That never stopped you from hopping in my bed.”

  “If I recall correctly, you coerced me there many times.”

  Unable to help it, he smiled. She was right. He had. But she’d also come willingly.

  “But it wasn’t enough, huh?” he inquired.

  “It was more than enough,” she replied softly. “It just wasn’t right.”

  He knew that arguing with her would get him nowhere. The answer would still be the same, regardless of how he phrased the question. So he went in a different direction. “Why did you come here tonight?” he asked, repeating his initial question that had gotten them to this point as he peered over at her.

  “What?” She looked surprised, but he knew her better than that. She was a damn good actress, but he was better at seeing through bullshit than most people.

  “Why? Why are you fucking here, Courtney?” he asked, his voice rising, the anger and hurt flooding him.

  “Because…”

  “Because your client wants information on my upcoming marriage to the senator’s granddaughter?” he asked, allowing his frustration to reflect in his tone.

  “Yes,” she answered bitterly, getting to her feet. “Are you happy now? I came to get dirt on you. Did you actually expect anything else?”

  No. Yes. Dammit. He hadn’t expected anything, but he’d hoped. Clearly he’d lost his fucking mind.

  “Why did your father send you?” he asked. “You didn’t succeed last time. Why not send someone else?”

  “Because I’m the only one you’ll…”

  “The only one I’ll what?” he asked, moving closer to her until he was standing mere inches away.

  Courtney looked up at him, her expression neutral. “Because I’m the only person you’ll trust.”