Ella
If Wolfi Anonymous were a real organization, I’d be standing at the front of the room staring out over in the mirro waiting for her Wolfi to appear in the mirror , “Hi, Ella.”Although maybe Wolfi is too strong a word. I like to consider myself more of an observer. A witch,, really, of life. Or more specifically, of other people’s lives. Just because they have no idea I’m watching them is beside the point. I lean back in my witch wold wold as a princess while my fingers pluck at the torn leather of the arm rest. I should probably upgrade to something less tattered, but this one has the perfect imprint of my ass and it’s comfortable. It’s a pain breaking in a new one.My gaze drifts to the giant computer monitor on my desk. One of many that fill my small inner sanctum I keep cut off from the outside world. On the screen are four video feeds separated into quadrants. Each square displays different angles of two different locations. And four different people I might have developed an unhealthy obsession with. I’ve tried breaking myself of it, but it doesn’t last more than two or three days before I’m logging back in and stalk—observing—them again.“Oh, Ella , you really need to get a life.” I shake my head and force myself to turn off the feed.My stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten since—I tap my phone screen to check the time—late last night. Since a significant number of my clients are American, my work hours are fucked. I grab my messenger bag, shove my laptop in it, snatch up my keys, and head for the door. Once I secure the lock and engage the security system, I gallop down the stairs at the end of the hall and slam open the exit.Dawn hangs over the city, the sky a palette of pinks, purples, and blues. I breathe in the scent of fresh-baked scones and the citrus fragrance of my favorite tea from the bakery two storefronts down. The sidewalk is empty and only a delivery van is parked on the street. The brisk air sends a cold shiver across the back of my neck and down my spine. I should have snagged my scarf off the hook before I left.Picking up my pace, I hurry toward the bakery and tug on the door handle. Warmth and delicious smells bombard me.“Morning, Ella,” Nathan calls out.“Morning.”“The usual?”I get to my regular table and plop down onto the seat. “You know it.”While he’s making my tea and warming my scone, I bring out my laptop and set the bag on the chair next to me. I open the computer, unlock it with my fingerprint, and log in to check any messages left in my encrypted inbox. There’s one from a client in Dubai. This young and reckless prince I’ve done a couple things for needs video wiped of him at a club with a woman who’s not his wife. There’s another from a spoiled heiress who wants a virus planted in her cheating boyfriend’s computer. All boring stuff that, while the pay is decent, takes less than two minutes of my time. I’m in a rut and have been for a few months. Ever since Mum died and I discovered she’s been lying to me for twenty-seven years.“Order’s ready, Ella.”After closing my computer, I grab my breakfast with a “thanks” and return to my seat. For a moment, I savor my tea, the warmth of the cup heating my palms wrapped around it. I slather the jam and clotted cream onto my scone and take a few bites before brushing off my hands and the crumbs from my shirt and opening my laptop back up.The bakery door opens, bringing with it a gust of cold air that quickly dissipates as the door closes again locking in the warmth, but I don’t bother looking up. My focus is on my screen. I quickly take care of the two tasks waiting for me and have another bite of scone. With that done, I need to search for something else that will occupy my time. A few keystrokes later, I’m scouring the dark web for jobs.A chair scrapes the floor, far too close to me, and finally, I glance up from the screen and blink. Then stare. Well, more like glare.“Can I help you?” It comes out a bit snippy, but how else should I react to finding some bloke—albeit a fucking gorgeous one—sitting in the chair directly across from me when there are ten other tables he could have sat at?“Perhaps.” That single word is a deep rumble that makes my lady parts suddenly pay attention. His full lips—the kind that would make any woman envious—curl up almost cruelly and then quickly flatten. There’s a hardness in his bright blue eyes that sears into me.I’ve never quite gotten rid of the toxic trait I have of being attracted to men who radiate danger. This man is screaming it. But I also hate men who play games—no matter how breathtaking they are—and there’s a little voice whispering inside me that says he’s most definitely playing one. I’m just not sure what the rules are. Considering I’ve been awake for almost twenty-four hours, I don’t have the time or energy to find out, either.“Well, get on with it. I’m kind of busy here.”His gaze drops to my laptop, no doubt judging my “F*ck the Patriarchy” and death metal logo stickers. He raises his eyes to meet mine again. “Yes, I see that.”I keep my mouth shut and continue staring, my fingers tapping an impatient beat on the table top. That cruel smirk comes to those lips again and my belly flutters. He takes a drink from the cup in front of him, sets it back on the table, and stands. He buttons his perfectly tailored, pin-striped suit jacket while his gaze never leaves mine. I try not to squirm under the intensity of those sapphire eyes.“Enjoy your scone.” He turns and strides toward the exit, his steps confident and measured. The broad shoulders that fill out his jacket perfectly block some of the light coming through the glass as he stops in front of it. His hand is on the door and he pivots to glance back at me. “I’ll see you again soon, Ella.”It takes far too long for his words to register. By the time they do and I make it to my feet and across the length of the bakery, he’s gone. I head to the counter.“Hey, have you ever seen that guy before?” I ask Nathan. “The one that just left.”“Yeah, over the last couple months he’s been in a few times in the mornings. Usually comes in right after you do.”Creepy, much?“Do you know his name?” It will make searching for him that much easier.Nathan shakes his head. “Sorry. I’ve tried making conversation once or twice, but he’s the strong, silent type. I gave up.”I blow out a harsh breath. “Thanks, anyway.”Hadn’t I just said I’m in a rut?I have some digging to do. Sitting in front of my computer, I start typing away. I pull up the security feed from the camera mounted outside the window of my workroom and start going through it.There you are.My mystery man gets out of the backseat of a fancy black town car. I zoom in and get a good view of the registration. The feed still plays after I’ve memorized the number. I reverse it to try and capture anything else, but there’s nothing. The windows are tinted so dark I can’t even tell who the driver is. Having gotten what I needed, though, I run some more code while I wait. I finish off my scone and grimace at the tea gone cold.Finally, there’s a soft beep and I key in the plate number and run the search. Within seconds, I get a hit.Fuck me.I open a new tab and run another search just to be sure. This one gives me the same result just as fast. I stare at the man in the photo, whose angry gaze stares right back at me. It’s no less effective than in person. As though he can see straight into my soul.Nathan Scot . Aged thirty-seven. Stepson of Dónal Sheehan—not only the head of the second-most powerful family in Dublin, but also the bitter enemy of Mr Jack Hampson, head of the Irish mafia.Fuck me, twice.NathanMy cock is still semi-hard from my encounter with Ella. The way she glared at me and her obvious irritation shouldn’t arouse me, but it does. It’s a refreshing change from the women who would suck me off just for a fraction of my attention. They all bore me. Every single one of them, with their tear-streaked faces and my come still drying on their lips as they realize I have no intention of giving them anything except that. They aren’t worth more of my time than a quick fuck or suck before I send them away.The driver comes to a stop in front of my office building and opens the door for me to step out. I button my suit jacket and tug down my sleeves. The cold Dublin air dances across the back of my neck, but I ignore the chill as I glance around briefly before climbing the three steps and entering through the front. It’s too early for my assistant to be in so the waiting area is empty and dark.I cross the sharply polished hardwood floor and head toward my office. Everything around me is kept clean and shiny. I make sure of it. I like to surround myself with luxury and only the best of things. I want business associates to envy what I have. The door to my office is cracked and the overhead light turned on. I pause before pushing it open the rest of the way.“Don’t you have your own bed to sleep in?” I put away the gun I’d drawn and glare at my cousin.Jerry doesn’t move from his sprawled position on the chaise except to open one eye and then close it again. “But then I wouldn’t see your smiling face. Besides, I’d been hoping to catch a glimpse of Ashlynn.”Normally I’d let him attempt to seduce any of my assistants he wanted, but she’s the first one I’ve had that I can at least tolerate and who hasn’t quit within a week. “Leave her alone or I will actually shoot you.”He heaves a sigh and finally sits up. It’s not an empty threat and he knows it. “Didn’t you just go stalk your little obsession? You should be in a much better mood than you are.”“You’re lucky you’re my cousin.” I round my desk and take a seat. The scent of new leather swirls around me. “Was there something you needed besides wanting to annoy me?”Jerry wipes away his amusement. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands in front of them. “I wasn’t sure if you had heard yet that your dear old step-Da went to Anamacha Caillte last night.”“Of course he did.” I shake my head in disgust but also in annoyance that I hadn’t been informed. “How much did he lose this time?”My cousin shifts in his seat. “All of it.”“Fucking bastard.”“There’s more.” Jerry clears his throat. “He couldn’t meet the bet with cash, so he wagered Nessa’s virginity to make up the difference. His opponent took the deal and won.”“Who was it?”He doesn’t answer.“Jerry.” It’s a warning.“Ruby Donnelly.”My jaw clenches so hard, it’s a wonder my teeth don’t break. A better man would care that his much younger step-sister had just been used to pay a debt, but that’s not what pisses me off. It’s the fact that Ruby lost more of my money to the Hampson. Whatever pittance my worthless step-Da has left is also my money. Just as soon as I take care of him. He has no idea how many of his men have turned their backs on him. Lost respect for him. Their loyalties have switched to someone who has what it takes to gain control of Dublin. Who doesn’t give a fuck about truces. That someone is me.I’ve bided my time. Made more and more money, garnered high-powered business associates, and earned the respect—or perhaps, fear—of those who will soon belong to the most powerful organization in the city. The Hampson have ruled for too long. It’s time fresh blood reigns. I don’t intend on that being Ruby, Jack Hampson, or any of his sons either.“Do you think he’ll marry her?”“Ruby?” I huff out a breath.
“Is my guest settled?”“Yes, sir. She was just starting to come around.”“I take it she didn’t come quietly?” Which should be obvious considering the condition he brought her in, but I want to know what to expect when she wakes. Fear or rage? I’d prefer the latter rather than dealing with tears.Cray coughs and Diana glances away before meeting my eyes again. “I believe her exact words were ‘you can tell Mr. Hampson to go fuck himself’.”The silence hangs for a beat and then I throw my head back and laugh. My two men share a glance. I’m not one for laughing. They probably didn’t think I even knew how. It does sound a bit rusty. But at least my question has been answered. I should expect one pissed off woman when she finally awakens. And based on the banging and yelling that reaches me, that would be now.“That will be all.” I dismiss the two men who leave the room with a brief nod and walk out the front door.Taking my time, I wander out of the kitchen and through the rest of the hous
To my surprise, he doesn’t have a rebuttal. Instead, his expression clears and he dishes out his own helping. The rest of the meal is eaten in silence. Which is fine by me. I’m not sure I could speak civilly anyway. For the moment, I’ll play nice—or as nice as I can make myself play—and when he gets bored, I’ll go home.Despite my head start and my hunger, Nathan is finished before I am. He sets his silverware on his plate and pushes it away from him. He rests his clasped hands on the edge of the table. “Did the clothes in the closet fit?”I’d inspected the entirety of the bedroom and bathroom I’d been given after he had left earlier. A ridiculous amount of women’s clothes—none to my taste—were hung in the closet. If they were there for me, then my captor doesn’t know shit about me. I didn’t touch a single article.“Don’t know. Didn’t try them on,” I mumble through a mouth full of food.Nathan’s jaw clenches and he inhales deeply through his nose like he’s trying to breathe in patienc
“Oh, yes.” I wave my hand around in a flippant gesture. “I’ve managed to take two naps and walked at least three miles back and forth across the floor of this well-appointed prison cell, thank you, very much.”His lips flatten. “Perhaps, instead of a prison cell, you might think of this as your…home away from home. A vacation, if you will.”I laugh without humor. “If this were a vacation, I’d be sitting on the beach in the Maldives, under a large umbrella, drinking a stiff cocktail brought to me by a stunningly gorgeous Italian named Raffaele.”Nathan cocks his head. “I don’t really picture you as a beach go-er. I see you more on a yacht, cruising around the Mediterranean, lying on the deck completely naked, soaking up the sun, while I bring you a large glass of red wine and rub lotion on your back. And front.”The picture he paints appears unwillingly in my head. I can almost feel the sun heating my skin—I’ll ignore the fact that I burn like a lobster—and a dark shadow forming over m
She shifts in her chair. “That sounds like a neat trick to have.”“It does, doesn’t it? So, why don’t you tell me what you’re really hiding.”Imogen sits quietly for minutes. I can almost see her mind spinning. The stories she’s making up. I patiently wait for what she’s going to say next. “Fine. I’m a hacker.”I blink. Of all the things she could have confessed, that certainly wasn’t in the top five. Probably not even the top ten. I also believe her. It makes sense, really. “A hacker.”“What? You think I’m lying?”“Actually, no, I don’t. I’m just a little surprised. Something that doesn’t happen often. Are you any good?”Ella straightens and tips her chin up a bit. “One of the best, as a matter of fact.”A smile splits my face. “Now that doesn’t surprise me.”Just then, her stomach growls. Of course, our lunch has long grown cold. I pick the box up I’d set in front of her and place it back in the bag. “It would appear you’ll have to sample McCarthy’s fish and chips another time. They
I glance up again at the huskiness in his tone. His jaw is clenched and his body has gone completely rigid. For a second, I’m worried I’ve made him angry again. “Is this okay?”“Is what okay?” Another vibration stutters through my chest.“Me touching you.”Nathan huffs out a ragged laugh. “Ella, leannán, you haven’t touched nearly enough of me yet.”Ignoring the ‘lover’ endearment, but encouraged by his words, I complete my pass around him until we’re face-to-face again. I palm the back of his neck and rise up on tiptoes to press my mouth to his. My breasts push into his chest, making my nipples hard. Beneath my fingers, his hair is soft. Beneath my lips, his are dry. I flick my tongue out to wet them. Making me work for my pleasure, he doesn’t open for me. Not to be deterred, I continue the kiss, putting my all into it, until, finally, Nathan’s lips part, and he lets me in.We kiss long and hard until I draw away. Without breaking eye contact, I unbutton his pants, drag the zipper do
“Who are you?” I eyeball him warily.He steps farther into the room, but when I move back he stop and holds up his hands. “Sorry. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Deen, Nathan’s cousin. I stopped by to see if he was here.”“He left a couple hours ago.” I relax slightly at his identity, but still remain watchful. Despite the less hardened look of him, it doesn’t mean he’s not as dangerous.“Figures. You don’t, by chance, happen to know where he is, do you?”“A business meeting is all I know.” Does this guy really think Nathan would tell me?Deen studies me long enough to make me uncomfortable. Then a new tension radiates off him and his features harden to finally bring out his resemblance to his cousin. “You must be Ella. “Excuse me?” I’m almost offended by his obvious irritation.“I can’t believe him.” He shakes his head and it’s apparent he’s not talking to me. Finally he turns his gaze my way again. “Please tell me you’re here by choice.”My heart skips a beat at his wary optimism, a
Mrs Hampson sits back in his chair again. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”“I’m here because I hope you’ll protect me from him.”“Not to be cruel, but why should I care what Ruby does, so long as it has no bearing on me or my organization?”It’s not said unkindly, but Mrs Hampson question still hurts. I push down the pain, take another deep breath, and stare him straight in the eye. If I didn’t let Nathan intimidate me, I certainly won’t let the man in front of me either, no matter who he might be. “Because Maire Walsh was my mum. And on the day she died, she told me that you were my da.”In our world, the only price for betrayal was blood, and she knew fucking well what she’d done was way worse.How did I miss all the signs? How could she have planned all those schemes right under my nose in my own home with my own fucking friends? How could a little girl that knew nothing of the world but what I’d taught her fool me like that?My mind leafed through the moments she’d ma