Chapter 7

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. “Not a chance. He has no interest in aligning their families. They hate Hampson nearly as much as I do. My guess is he’ll fuck her a few times and then send her back to her loving Da disgraced. Virginity is a high commodity when it comes to alliances. Although, I’ll never understand why a man would want to deal with an unskilled lover who’ll probably flinch and cry every time he tries to touch them.”

Jerry nods. “I assume then that this news doesn’t change your plans in any way?”

“Why would it?”

“Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. The man who doesn’t care about anyone. Not even an innocent young woman—his sister—who’s done nothing to him.” My cousin sits up and leans back into the couch.

I stare at him, bored with this conversation already. “ Ruby is not my sister, a fact of which you are well aware. You’re also aware that your continued attempts at being my conscience are pointless. Because you’re right. I don’t care about anyone.”

Nathan scot. “Not even me.”

“Not even you.”

He stands and studies me. I merely return his stare, not flinching under the disgust he can’t control in his expression. With a small shake of his head, he turns and heads for my office door. He pauses just as he reaches it and glances back at me.

“You know, I used to look up to you when we were growing up. Both Jerry and I did.” Nathan laughs harshly. “Not anymore though. I’m not sure when you changed, but this new you? I don’t even know who you are. Best of luck with your little coup. I hope it brings you some measure of happiness. Although I’m not sure you even know what that emotion feels like.”

Nathan walks out the door, not even bothering to close it behind him. I continue sitting there while his footsteps fade the farther away he gets until, finally, they—and he—are gone. His contempt stings a little. If I did care about anyone, it would be him and his brother. The three of us had been close once. But that time has passed, and the only person I care about is myself.

I unlock the top right desk drawer, open it, pick up the manila envelope lying on top, and set it in front of me. For a second, it remains unopened.

I’ve memorized its contents. Still, I reach inside and flip through each of the photographs.

The subject of them is far more vibrant in person than in this flat, two-dimensional rendering. The purple and teal streaks that add color to her shoulder-length black hair. Those bright blue eyes that sparked annoyance at my intrusion of her personal space this morning and made my cock hard. Still makes it hard. I can’t wait to sink deep inside her cunt. And I will, too. No doubt her eyes will spit more than just irritation. I’m actually looking forward to it.

Setting the pictures down, I glance at the paper with minimal details on Ella . Other than that, I haven’t been able to find anything else out about her. Nathan isn’t far off, calling her an obsession. From the first moment I laid eyes on her, she’d unknowingly drawn me in. I’ve wanted her ever since. And I always get what I want.

Ella

The ear-splitting alarm jolts me awake. I grab my phone from the nightstand and shut it off. Not ready to get up yet, I roll onto my back with my eyes closed. Dreams of Jerry plagued my sleep. Some were terrifying. The majority of them, however, incited a far different reaction. A throbbing heat low in my belly returns as I recall the vivid images of sweat-slicked bodies writhing together. Don’t forget who he is.

He isn’t classically beautiful. In fact, there’s a harshness to his features that some might find unattractive. His skin isn’t smooth and unblemished. It appears rough and rugged beneath the close-cut beard. Still, he is a striking figure with his full lips, piercing blue eyes, thick brows, and overly-long hair that sticks up just the slightest bit in front. Don’t get me started on the way he filled out his jacket. I may not have the best fashion sense, but I can pick out an expensive suit from anywhere. Which makes sense considering who he is.

What did he mean he’d see me again soon? More importantly, how did he know my name? I still can’t figure that out. My second phone rings. It’s the completely secure one I use for business. Jerry will have to wait.

“Maddox.” The built-in digitizer disguises my voice from anyone who might be using voice-detection equipment to try and identify me.

“It’s Hampson . Got a job for you.”

I sit upright on high alert. For nearly ten years I’ve been doing various jobs for Padraig Hampson. He’s one of my highest paying clients and always hires me for things that utilize some of my best skills. It’s crazy how I didn’t connect his relationship to Jack Hampson until five or six years ago. Then again, Padraig does live in Brooklyn.

“What do you need?” I rush across my bedroom and grab my laptop from where I dumped my bag when I got home from the bakery before I crashed.

My fingers fly across my keyboard as he gives me the details of the job. Adrenaline pumps through my veins and wipes away any sleep that still remains. Finally a task worth doing. Not just for the money either. “Give me a couple hours, and I’ll have something for you.”

“Payment is already on its way to your account.”

I end the call and get to work. Out of all the jobs I’ve done for him this is certainly one of the easiest, but still hard enough to let me flex my skills.

Everyone in Dublin is aware of who the Hampson are. Mostly because they run the largest crime syndicate in the city. They have the Gardaí in their pocket, so the authorities look the other way. They also run the most successful—and exclusive—casino in Dublin. Generally speaking, gambling is illegal. But they’ve gotten around the law through a couple loopholes.

My laptop pings and I sit forward to analyze the data on my screen. I enter in more code and let it run. Hopefully, it doesn’t take too long. There’s nothing I can do until my program finishes, so I hop in the shower, shave my legs since it’s been a couple days, as well as my bikini line, and throw on a thermal shirt and my favorite pair of black jeans. The hardwood floor is cold under my feet, so I grab an old pair of wool socks Mum bought me for Christmas one year and sit on the edge of my bed to put them on.

Tears come to my eyes as I stroke the slightly scratchy material. Grief is weird. I’m still angry at her for keeping secrets from me, but I miss her so much. She’d been all I had, my best friend. Swiping away the tears, I put the socks on and head back into the bathroom to comb through my hair. I stare at myself in the mirror picking apart my features. Annoyed that I still look like myself, I go out to the kitchenette and boil some water for tea. Just as the timer goes off on my electric kettle, my computer pings.

I pour myself a cup, grab a couple biscuits off the counter, and head over to my small table and computer. Taking a seat, I start typing, and within seconds, I’ve got bank accounts loaded onto the screen. I scan the transactions, trying to locate the ones of interest. I run a search, but nothing comes up. Still, I keep searching. Fifteen minutes later, I’ve got nothing. I key in a couple more queries. It takes me far longer than it should, but finally, I get a hit.

Grabbing my work phone, I call Ruby back.

“Your friend has an off-shore account where there is a long list of transfers from a bank in Poland. Each deposit is for the same amount and arrives in regular intervals. I’m still waiting on confirmation of the owner of the Polish account, but the money is definitely being transferred in.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Let me know when you have an identity.”

Another ping comes from my laptop. “Looks like it’s all coming from a corporation called Ricardo.”

Not very imaginative of them.

“Got it, thanks.”

“I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.” I end the call and set the phone on the table beside my cup of tea that has, no doubt, gone cold. Damn it.

I snatch up one of the biscuits and shove it in my mouth while I go and reheat my drink. Once it’s hot again, I waste no time drinking it down, savoring the slight citrus flavor. There are only two things I splurge on when it comes to purchases. Tech and tea. Probably because they’re the two things I can’t live without.

After I finish off another cup and the second biscuit, I throw my sweatshirt on over my thermal, shove my laptop back in my bag as well as my cell phones, and walk out the door. Once the security alarm is set, I head downstairs. I spend more time out of my flat than I do in it. Probably because I want that space to be my sanctuary away from work. That call from Ruby wasn’t usual. It’s still barely dawn in the States. I’ve usually made it to my workroom before any calls come in.

The cold wind hits me the second I step outside. I pull my hood up over my head and tuck my hands inside my sleeves and front pocket as I make my way down the walkway toward the internet cafe I start my day at before spending the rest of it at my main base. Mum was always disappointed that I don’t have some fancy corporate job, but instead choose to do freelance work. The pay is less, sure, but I more than make up for it with my hacking skills and off the books jobs I’m hired for by people who aren’t always stand-up citizens. I’m choosy about who I work for, though, even if half of them are criminals. I do my research before accepting a job from just anyone. The nice thing is, most of my new clients come my way through a referral from an existing one. Being my own boss is a definite perk. Granted, the hours suck, but it’s something I can live with.

I cut through the narrow passageway between two buildings. The scent of cooked meat wafts around me as well as rubbish as I pass a few bins. It’s usually pretty empty this time of day and it’s the quickest route to the cafe. I hop over a puddle of water gathered beneath a rainspout. The wind is still blistering cold and blowing straight into me. I keep my head tucked down to try and ward some of it off. I’m so focused on the ground, I miss the massive barrier in front of me and collide with it.

“Shit, sorry.” I tip my head up and freeze.

A suit-clad man with a large, mottled scar across one whole side of his face stands there. Trying to bluff my way passed, I apologize again and force my feet to move and walk around him, but he sidesteps and blocks my path. “Mr. Jack would like you to come with us.”

Mr. Jack what? And who’s us? Walking the streets alone at crazy hours of the night, I’ve learned not to act intimidated, so I stand as tall as I can, which isn’t much considering I barely come up to his chest. “You can tell Mr. Jack to go fuck himself. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Is this what he meant this morning by seeing me again? That he was going to send one of his goons after me? The question is, why?

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He takes a step forward—closer—and I turn to run.

Except I don’t make it far. I slam into another brick wall. On instinct, I open my mouth to scream, but a hand claps over it, muffling the sound, and an arm wraps around my waist lifting me off my feet. I’m held against a hard chest. I kick and flail, reaching back to try and punch the guy holding me. His hand is so big, not only is my mouth covered, but so is my nose. I can’t breathe. Still, I try everything to get away until my strength flags and my vision turns black.

Nathan

My phone buzzes and I check the message. I’ve waited impatiently for the last hour while Diana and Cray went to retrieve my package. Finally, they’re back. I make my way through my estate until I reach the front door and open it for the new arrivals. First Cray steps past carrying a black messenger bag, his expression blank. Next is Diana. Slung over his shoulder is a body. I’m guessing she gave them some trouble. Why am I not surprised?

“I’m going to assume she’s merely drugged and not dead?” I ask drily.

“Yes, sir.”

“Place her in the bedroom attached to mine and lock the door on your way out.” He walks away. “And Diana, I’d take care with her if I were you.”

He nods and disappears down the hallway. I hold my hand out to Cray who passes the bag to me. “Anything of interest?”

He follows me to the kitchen. “Just a laptop, keys, and a couple phones.”

Why does my lovely guest need two phones? I reach inside for the laptop first, set it on the counter, and open it. Without a fingerprint, this is as far as I’m getting it would appear. I shut the top and bring out the cell phones. Both locked with facial recognition. Clearly someone has trust issues. Not that I blame her. I don’t trust anyone either. Something we have in common. Diana returns as I place the items back in the bag.