FIVE

Reneigh

Bastard.

The word had flowed off my tongue more than once, maybe far too many times.

Entitled prick.

There. Another sentiment regarding the rich jerk who thought he ruled the world.

"I take my infractions seriously..." The asshole's words lingered in my mind as they had the entire afternoon.

I'd lost my sanity.

Absolutely I knew his reputation. The Storm family was known as the West Coast mafia, although they'd never presented themselves in that manner. At least some of the glorified stories didn't lie. They had no issue eliminating their enemies.

And I'd just topped that list.

From what I'd heard, Elijah was a brutal man.

Cold.

Calculating.

Insanely gorgeous.

I found it difficult to swallow as images of him rushed into my mind. His face. His shaggy hair. His perfect... body. Damn, the man had to be carved from stone, his angular features far too enticing. He was the perfect catch, or so the office fodder had mentioned on several occasions, women gushing like stupid high-school girls. While I'd never participated in their quips or gossip regarding his sex life, I'd secretly fantasized about him on more than one occasion.

Not any longer. Hell, no.

I had no doubt he'd attempted to scare me, making certain I'd seen his big, fat weapon. What kind of business trip required a sidearm? I knew the answer.

I was furious with myself for several reasons. One—I'd gotten caught. Two—I'd been stupid enough to think I could get away with it in the first place. Three—I'd been wet and hot, almost climaxing the moment he'd thrust his fingers deep inside my aching pussy. I could still feel them buried deep. I shuddered from the memory of him sucking on his fingers, the horrible bastard. And finally four—I'd been lured into the deal. No rational person would enter into some kind of contract with a man like Elijah Storm.

I stood at my kitchen window, staring out at the once beautiful garden, my grip on the dingy kitchen counter tight. I grimaced the second I moved, the raw feeling on my bottom as it sliced against my skirt a reminder of the wretched late morning occurrence. I had no idea what to call the impromptu meeting and round of discipline.

At the hands of a monster.

A beast in a suit that cost more than I made in two or three months wanted me. I hissed, reaching for my glass of wine. I'd left work early, feigning illness. While I'd had no way of knowing for certain who'd turned me in to Elijah Storm, my instincts screamed the nasty blonde who sat two cubicles over from me. She'd had her sights set on moving up to supervisor row, as the employees called the window offices, for some time. I'd realized someone had been in my computer two minutes too late.

What I hadn't anticipated was anything else that had happened afterwards, the rough hands dragging me toward his office and the hour wait or the direct confrontation. The bastards had even managed to lock me inside. During that grueling hour, I'd had enough time to think of an excuse. In the end, I'd failed myself once again.

I had to be insane entering into any kind of a deal with the man, especially one of a carnal nature. However, I couldn't afford to be arrested. Granted, he was the kind of handsome guy that made your mouth water; shaggy dirty blond hair with light blue eyes, a killer body with abs of steel.

But he was dangerous, no matter his charm and good looks.

I couldn't handle another damning situation. I was finally digging my way out of the kind of nightmare that would toss anyone into mental incapacity for life. I'd survived. I was succeeding.

Until now.

As a survivor, I would find a way to get through this. I knew the Storm family history, had read various newspaper articles. I'd heard enough stories to make me sick to my stomach. Death surrounded them, although as far as I could tell, not a single member of the organization had ever been arrested. I'd worked at the firm long enough to have learned there was an inner core of people, some I knew were nothing more than muscle.

I'd gambled and lost—big time.

I shuddered, rubbing my arm as I continued staring at the ugly weeds and the dirt where lush green grass had once been lovingly taken care of. Sadness gripped my mind and my heart, my job likely stripped away, the unknown aspects of the deal weighing heavily on me. What did the asshole want from me? Why had he resisted calling the police, other than the fact he was ten times the criminal I was?

Actually, he was a murderer, only no one had ever been able to prove it.

I'd made a deal with the devil himself.

What the hell had I been thinking, breaking the law?

After taking a gulp of wine, I closed my eyes, still humiliated by the fact I'd been completely naked in front of him. Whew. All I could remember thinking about during the horrific incident was thank God I'd worn matching underwear. I laughed bitterly, trying to keep from tossing my cookies. I had no idea where he was taking me tonight and there was no way I could trust him. Maybe I'd end up disappearing off the face of the earth, buried under yards of concrete at one of the latest projects. The fear became suffocating, constricting my throat muscles.

No. God, no. What the hell was I going to do?

Of course I'd made a huge mistake, but in truth, I never thought the money would be missed. I'd taken small increments at a time, never from one of the clients. I'd covered my tracks almost perfectly. Almost. The Storm family was richer than God, only their money was stained with blood. I also had another reason I'd broken free of my good girl status.

Revenge.

While the family wasn't the only reason for my dark and obviously dangerous needs, the company had been the easiest to infiltrate in order to enact my plan.

What plan?

I was rethinking everything. My reasons. My actions. My courage.

No matter if I succeeded, it would never stop the pain.

Or the danger surrounding my family.