Betrayed (Atlanta's Finest Series Book 5)

by Sharon C. Cooper

  This wasn’t good. His mouth on her body, the fresh scent of his cologne, and the way he had her believing his words, was a sure sign that she was in way over her head. She’d have to be careful with him.

  “So, shall we get back in bed?” she asked, and smiled when one of his brows inched up. Clearly, he was surprised she understood what he’d said in Spanish. Considering she’d spent time in Mexico and Spain, and had a Spanish-speaking housekeeper, Zenobia didn’t speak the language fluently, but knew enough to get by. “Are you going to speak more Spanish to me?”

  He chuckled and started to say something, but stopped, probably thinking about the potential of listening devices being in the house.

  “You’re just going to have to wait and see,” he said, then lifted the pitcher of iced tea. “Want some?”

  “Uh, no. I’m good.”

  He turned and opened the refrigerator. The way his shirt stretched across his broad back and how his muscles rippled with each move held her attention. When he turned back to her, Zenobia couldn’t look away. Who would want to? Sexy. Dangerous. Manly. More importantly, he was hers if only for a little while.

  Mine.

  The word rattled through her mind. She could either play it safe and miss out on a little fun. Or she could do like he was doing—get into character.

  Why not enjoy her new man, take what he offered, and give as good as she got?

  *

  If only he could act on the going back to bed idea. It had been hard as hell to go for her neck instead of her sweet lips with the little stunt he’d just pulled, but it was for the best. The kiss they’d shared earlier had already shaken him. It had him imagining what it would be like to do more than kiss her. He needed to tread lightly in this farce because this woman had the ability to bring him to his knees, literally.

  “So, what do you need a date for?” he asked, watching as she tugged on the collar of her T-shirt, giving it a little shake as if needing air.

  Angelo couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his mouth. He was glad to witness that he affected her as much as she affected him. Problem was, one of them was going to have to keep their head in this situation. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure he could be that person.

  “I need to make an appearance at Tremaine Dempsi’s release party in a couple of weeks. I hope you don’t have plans.”

  He grabbed the cloth-covered ice pack that he’d put in the freezer earlier and strolled around the counter toward Zenobia. Her eye was looking a little better than it had that morning, but the bruise was still noticeable.

  “Here.” Angelo handed the cold pack to her. When she didn’t put the ice on her eye, he grabbed hold of her wrist and guided her hand upward. He ignored her grumbling and held the ice pack in place until he was sure she wouldn’t lower her arm. “My plan is to spend as much time with you as possible. I’m glad we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

  He hoped she was right and that there were no listening devices in her home. But just in case there were, he wanted whoever might be listening in to know that he was there and had no intention of going anywhere.

  “I want the world to know that you’re mine,” Angelo said, and almost burst out laughing at the suspicious look she gave him. Then, as if a shade had been lifted and sunlight burst in, her eyes widened and a grin tugged up the corners of her lips. His heart did a somersault inside his chest.

  This woman. She probably had no idea how much she turned him on. But when she slid her free hand up his chest and her arm went around his neck, Angelo had a feeling she knew exactly what she was doing to him. Torture. No doubt she was going to torture him for what he’d done while she was on the phone. Maybe he should just say to hell with faking, because at this very moment, he wanted this woman more than he’d wanted anything or anyone in a long time.

  “Yeah, I want the world to know that you’re mine, too. I hope you’re ready for the type of public attention that I usually cringe at.”

  She gave a little laugh, but he knew she was serious. What he didn’t know yet was why she got into the music industry if she didn’t like all of the attention. She had to know that with her looks and her angelic voice that she would be a star.

  The thought of the paparazzi being in his face didn’t appeal to Angelo, either. There was always a slim chance his past would come back to haunt him, meaning he’d have to stay alert and not look directly into anyone’s camera.

  He slid his arm around her narrow waist. “I’ll cook us some dinner soon, but is there anything else you wanted to do tonight?”

  Her smile grew wicked. “You know that’s a loaded question, don’t you?”

  “I do, and it’s a question I’m waiting for you to answer.” Before she could respond, movement behind him snatched Angelo’s attention.

  Without removing his arm from around Zenobia, he turned to the stairs to find Lazarus Dimas, a fellow security specialist, easing down the stairs. Laz had been a detective with Atlanta PD for years. He had also been Ashton’s partner before signing on to Supreme full-time. That was how he knew Zenobia. They’d met a couple of times over the years.

  Laz pointed to both of them, then nodded his head toward the front of the house. A bad feeling seeped into Angelo’s bones, especially when his friend led them outside to the driveway where two of their SUVs were parked.

  “So far we found three listening devices.”

  Zenobia gasped. The ice pack dangled from her fingers as shock marred her beautiful face. “How is that possible? How could someone have planted them without me knowing?”

  Angelo wrapped his arm around her shoulder and had her to put the ice back over her eye. If only she knew how easy it was to plant bugs without being detected. Now they just had to figure out who’d done it and why.

  Laz leaned against one of the vehicles, and told them that they’d found a device in her office. She was using it as a temporary studio until renovations started on the guest house out back. They had also found one in her bedroom and one in the family room.

  “While the other guys are still checking the guest house, Myles is going to check the kitchen. I’d bet my paycheck that he finds at least one in there,” Laz said.

  A short while later, Myles exited the house and walked over to where they were standing in the driveway. “Found another one. Now we just have to decide whether to leave them or remove them.”

  “What?” Zenobia’s gaze bounced to each one of them, looking at them as if they’d lost their minds. “You’re not seriously thinking about leaving them in there.”

  “It would be one way of catching whoever planted them,” Angelo said, explaining to her that it would be a good way to set someone up. They could pretend they were going to be somewhere and see who showed up.

  Zenobia pulled away from him shaking her head. “I can’t live in this house knowing someone is listening in on me. I’m sorry. I just…I just can’t. It’s too creepy. It’s bad enough knowing that someone has been spying on me, and I don’t know who. I don’t even know how long this has been going on.”

  “It’s not a problem to remove them. When the person realizes they no longer have access to you and your conversations, they’ll come out of hiding,” Myles said.

  “Yeah, we just have to be ready because we’re still not sure who or what we’re up against,” Laz explained. “This could be your ex trying to scare you back into his arms.”

  “Or it could be someone who wants to hurt her,” Angelo added, hoping it wasn’t the latter.

  Zenobia stared up at him and the worry in her eyes gutted him. He had no doubt they could protect her and eventually find the person behind this, but he wasn’t sure how to erase her fear. She folded her arms around her waist.

  “How could someone do this without me knowing?”

  “They are actually easy to install and only take seconds,” Laz explained. “It could’ve been anybody. Considering where they were located, they could’ve installed them while standing there talking to you, and you
wouldn’t have been the wiser.”

  The weariness Angelo saw in her eyes moments ago was replaced with sadness. “That means I was right. Someone close to me has it in for me.” She shook her head. “I can’t stay here.”

  “Come here, Cariño.” Angelo pulled her into his arms and placed a kiss on top of her head.

  This might’ve been a job, but she felt right in his arms. He was behaving so out of character with her, it was almost scary. He didn’t do relationships. Outside of his family and his close friends, he didn’t let people get close. Yet, there was something about Zenobia that called to him.

  Not caring that his friends were watching, he held her tight for a few minutes. At first, she was stiff in his arms, but only for a second before relaxing. With her forehead on his chest, she didn’t say anything. It didn’t sound like she was crying, and he was glad for that. He hated to see women cry.

  After a few minutes, he eased her back, keeping his hands on her upper arms.

  “Listen to me. We don’t know who we’re dealing with or why, but I promise we will find them. In the meantime, are you saying that you’re going to let some asshole run you out of your home?”

  He saw the moment some of the stubbornness he’d witnessed earlier seep back into her. She lifted her chin and pulled her shoulders back, fisting the ice pack in her hand and shaking it at him.

  “You’re right. I’m not letting someone scare me away from my own home. I’ve worked my butt off to finally have a place where Sofia and I feel safe. There is no way I’m letting someone take that from us!”

  Angelo stiffened at her words. What the hell? That sounded as if she’d had other times when she was in danger. Times that she hadn’t told them about.

  A quick glance at his friends and he knew right away that they were thinking the same thing. Myles’s left brow was cocked, and Laz’s hazel-eyed gaze connected with Angelo’s.

  Instead of trying to get it out of her now, he’d wait. As they dug into her life more, the truth would eventually come out. He just hoped her secrets didn’t get anyone of them killed.

  “Take out the listening devices,” Angelo instructed. “Whoever is behind this shit will reveal themselves soon enough, and we’ll be ready for them.”

  Chapter Eight

  Holding the phone between his shoulder and ear, Monty ‘Rock’ Rockwell reached for the pack of cigarettes on his desk and shook one out. He listened as his lawyer explained why it wasn’t a good idea to move forward with the strip mall Rock wanted to purchase.

  “I highlighted a few areas of concern on the paperwork that I’ll send back to you. I know you want property in that area, but that mall has been in a decline for years, losing stores and in turn, losing customers. Rock, I think you should pass on this one. It’s too deep in a hole.”

  Since he was twenty, Rock had worked his ass off and built a multimillion-dollar drug empire in Miami, pushing the purest cocaine and heroin money could buy. Fifteen years in the drug game, he had never planned to go straight until a few years ago when he almost lost everything. He had gotten sloppy. He had trusted the wrong people. The DEA’s sting operation nearly cost him his life and the life he had built for himself. In the end, he’d come out on top. In the process, he had taken out DEA roaches who meant him no good.

  After blowing their plans to hell at the last minute, Rock had decided it was time to go legit. Time and time again, the government had tried building a case against him. Each time they failed, but their last attempt had come too close. Never again. Never would he risk them getting close enough to rip his organization apart. He’d seen them do it too many times with some of his competitors, and do it successfully.

  For the last few years, Rock had been putting his life in order and buying up businesses around the country like beauty salons, strip joints, and had recently purchased another liquor store. He was finally getting out of the drug game, despite it making him millions. Now he had enough legal businesses to set him up for life.

  He rocked back in his leather desk chair and took a long drag from his cigarette. “You don’t have to send the paperwork back to me,” he finally said to his lawyer. “You haven’t steered me wrong yet, and I trust your judgment. Do whatever necessary to take the deal off the table.”

  They talked for a few minutes longer before Rock disconnected the call. His LLC already owned a few strip malls in Miami Beach and Coral Gables, but he wanted one in Coconut Grove. This particular property was a foreclosure, but Rock was confident that he could bring it back to life. However, if his real estate attorney suggested passing, that’s exactly what he planned to do.

  Hearing a lawn mower, Rock swiveled his office chair around and faced the patio door that led out to a side yard of his massive Miami estate. He had a view of his pool as well as his own private beach just beyond it. He had fallen in love with the property after touring it once and put in an offer that would ensure he got the house. He had also wanted the properties on each side of him, not wanting any nearby neighbors. The owners hadn’t been planning to sell, but he’d made an offer they couldn’t resist.

  After a quick knock, the door to his office burst open and Rock didn’t have to turn around to see that it was his second-in-command. Gavin was the only person brave enough to walk in without being invited. They’d been best friends since they used to skip classes in high school, and were tighter than brothers. They would kill for each other and they had.

  Rock turned toward the door and snuffed out the cigarette butt in the ashtray on the corner of his desk. He tossed the remaining pack of smokes into the top desk drawer.

  “You might want to pull those back out. We have a situation.”

  At six-four and tipping the scale at two-hundred-and-fifty pounds, most people assumed Rock played professional football. Unlike him, though, Gavin—barely six feet tall and maybe a hundred and eighty pounds—looked like a harmless businessman. As one of Rock’s top enforcers, those who hadn’t heard of Gavin underestimated him at first sight, but they soon learned. He could take down a man twice his size with a perfectly placed punch in the throat or a bullet to the head without flinching. What Gavin lacked in bulk, he made up for in ruthlessness.

  “Don’t bring me any bad news,” Rock said, as he pulled the dreadlocks that hung down his back away from his face and bound them with a thick rubber band. “You or someone else should be able to handle whatever has come up. Hell, that’s why I pay yo’ ass the big bucks.”

  “Someone shot up the beauty shop in Liberty City.”

  Rock slowly sat forward in his seat as unease settled around him like a thunderous cloud. In that neighborhood, the craziest shit happened, but who would dare shoot up a place he owned? No one who wanted to live. Rock might be taking his empire straight, but he wouldn’t hesitate to snuff out anyone who destroyed what belonged to him.

  “Anyone hurt?” he asked, standing to his full height and bracing himself as dread seeped into his veins. He already knew there was more. Otherwise, Gavin would’ve handled this and brought him up to speed after everything was cleaned up.

  “Nah, Cassandra hadn’t opened yet,” he said, referring to the head stylist and manager of that location. “She was in the back office working on the books. When she heard the explosion of gunfire, she took cover under her desk and called the cops. Then she called me.”

  Rock nodded, a little of the anxiety easing from him. “All right. Get the place cleaned up ASAP so that they don’t lose—”

  “That property is the least of your problems.”

  “Why? What else has happened?”

  “The Cameeso Cartel is coming for you. They’re out for revenge and I’m pretty sure they’re the ones behind this.”

  Almost a decade ago, Rock had destroyed their organization from the drug lord down to most of their street soldiers. He heard they were rebuilding, but he wasn’t worried. They didn’t have the manpower or the balls to come after him.

  “Don’t underestimate them,” Gavin said, reading Roc
k’s mind. “Word on the street is that they’ve reorganized and they’re coming hard. Meaning they will go after everything you have and anyone who’s important to you.”

  Rock’s nostrils flared as he stared at his long-time friend, already knowing who he was referring to. Rock had made a promise years ago that he’d stay out of Zenobia’s life and forget she ever existed. He rarely broke a promise and went to great lengths to keep his word. But if what Gavin proclaimed was true and Rock found out Zen might be in danger, all bets were off. He wouldn’t let harm come to her again, and he would kill anyone who got in his way.

  Chapter Nine

  Enamored by her sweet and sultry voice, Angelo stood against the back wall of the recording studio, unable to take his gaze off of Zenobia. Hearing her music countless times on the radio was one thing, but watching her now, experiencing her perfectionism as she worked with the producer and an engineer, was a unique experience.

  They had arrived a couple of hours ago. After going over Zenobia’s schedule, Angelo had insisted on mixing up her routine in hopes of drawing out her enemy. Not only was she at the studio on a different day than planned, but they were at a new location. The first couple of hours were spent laying down tracks for two songs. Now Zenobia was singing a piece that she had finished writing the night before.

  So talented. She wrote all but one of the songs on the new album, and no doubt the compilation would be a hit. Her tone, passionate and soulful with a slight rasp, seeped into Angelo’s soul and left him in awe. Just when he thought she’d gone as far as she could go with a high note, she’d belt out another that sent chills down his spine. Except for maybe Mariah Carey, there weren’t any other artists who could hit those notes so powerfully.

  Zenobia suddenly stopped singing. Angelo stood straighter, not missing the frustration marring her lovely face. She was in a small sound booth on the other side of the glass, standing in front of a microphone with headphones over her ears. This was the third time in a matter of minutes that she’d stopped. Each time was at the same spot in the song. It wasn’t that she was forgetting the words. Her notebook was on a stand in front of her. Something else was going on.