Chapter 5- A Brown Envelope

~Bruce

I set the laptop on the desk and tried to focus on my work, but I couldn't. My mind kept drifting back to Kitty.

She was your goddaughter. Her father was your best friend. She’s the exact same age as your daughter, Dalia, and she’s about to become your stepdaughter.

"For God's sake, get it together, Bruce," I muttered to myself.

But my cock twitched just from the thought of her. It was like I could still feel her small hands wrapping around me and her warm mouth swallowing me whole.

A sudden knock on the door cut through my thoughts.

I stood up, walked over, and pulled the door open. No one was there. I looked left and right down the empty hallway, then looked down. A brown envelope was sitting on the carpet.

I picked it up, stepped back into the room, and locked the door behind me. I pulled out my pocket knife, sliced the top of the envelope open, and slid the content out.

It was a photo. It was a picture of me from this morning, wearing a black hoodie as I entered the hotel. I flipped the photo over. There was a phone number scrawled across the back in black ink.

"Shit," I cursed, tossing the photo onto the bed.

I folded my arms, sat back down in my chair, and rubbed a frustrated hand across my face, letting out a deep groan. I knew exactly what would happen if I didn't call that number. I had to call it. After all, I was the one who invented this exact M.O. back in London.

I pulled out my burner phone, punched in the numbers, and held it to my ear. It didn't even ring twice before a familiar, smug voice answered.

"Ah, Bruce. Glad you could join us," the voice said.

"What do you want?" I growled.

"We want our best executor back," the man on the other end said with a chuckle. "You really thought you could just leave the gang? Relocating to the United States, starting a clean life, and leaving your family back in the UK? It doesn't work that way, Bruce. You belong to the gangs of London."

"I'm out," I said, my voice cold and hard. "I paid my dues."

"Not yet, you haven't. We have a huge job for you. Just one last hit, and after this, you're completely done. We will never contact you again."

I let out a dark, breathless laugh. "I’ve been in this business way too long to know when someone is lying to me. When you start this life, you can't just stop."

"What made the great Bruce Carter suddenly develop a conscience?" the voice mocked. "Don't worry, I think I can buy back that conscience of yours. The job pays three hundred million dollars."

"No thanks," I said, my grip tightening on the phone until my knuckles turned white. "And if you call this number again, I will trace you to the ends of the earth. When I find you, I'll rip your throat open with my bare hands."

There was a long pause on the line. Then, the man chuckled again, a chilling sound.

"You're very brave for a man with two beautiful kids," the voice whispered. "Dalia and Hudson are flying in the day after tomorrow, aren't they? It would be a shame if something happened to them on the way."

Before I could even speak, the line went dead.

"Fuck!" I screamed into the empty room.

---

~Katherine

"Mum! Mum!" I yelled, my voice echoing across the massive mansion.

After a few moments, she walked down the grand stairs, wearing her silk PJs with her satin eye mask right on her eyes.

"Yes, Kitty," she sighed, looking completely annoyed. "What is worth disturbing my sleep?"

"Did you take my car keys?"

"Yes, I did, Kitty, and so what?"

"So what!?" I sputtered, absolutely amazed by her audacity. "You can't just do whatever you want, Gwen."

"Shame," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "I lost my mum privilege just when I got it back."

When she said that, it hit me—I had actually called her mum instead of Gwen. I scoffed, trying to shake it off, and stretched my hand out. "Give me my keys back, please."

"Oh, so you can say please."

"Give them back!"

She raised her eye mask for a millisecond just to glare at me. "Katherine, Bruce is coming to pick you up. He'll be here any minute from now. If you have any concerns, don't talk to me about them. I need to rest."

"Gwendolyn!" I yelled as she turned around and sauntered right back up the stairs.

"Wow," a deep, gravelly voice said behind me.

I whipped around. Bruce was standing there, looking massive and completely put together. "What are we shouting about so early in the morning?" he asked.

"Ask your future stepdaughter," Gwen called out from the top of the stairs, arching a brow before disappearing into her room.

Bruce turned his hazel eyes to me, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. "What's the matter, Kitty-cat?"

I groaned, my chest heaving. I was still so mad at him for kissing me and then kicking me out of his hotel room yesterday. But honestly? I was way more aroused than I was upset. Just hearing his deep voice make that stupid nickname sound so dirty made me melt completely.

"I have to go to school, and Gwen took my keys," I snapped, trying to sound tough.

"She's lying!" Gwen yelled from down the hallway upstairs. "She doesn't have classes until later this evening! Please just take her away, Bruce. She's giving me a headache."

Bruce looked at me, his eyes tracking down my body for a second before he tapped his car keys against his palm. "I'll be in the car," he said simply, turning on his heel and walking out the front door.

I had no choice. I stomped out after him, completely furious that I was trapped.