Incognito: Sweet Submission

Incognito: Sweet Submission

By:  Roxann_ddreamer  Ongoing
Language: English
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Alice Caroni is the heir of her father's prized crime syndicate. Yet she lived a carefree life under her father's guardian. That was until a tragedy struck. She lost her beloved father, but bad things keeps coming, leaving her no time to cry. The remaining founders revealed their true identity. Now on the run from the family she knew her entire life, Alice had one goal in mind- make them pay. Disrupted and haunted by a CIA agent Callum Brady, Alice's plan had to change. And when the sinfully handsome lawman offers his protection, he has no idea he is connecting with the heiress of the criminal organization he took an oath to destroy. Their attraction was stratospheric- Except Alice bowed to no man. All she knew was to Prey. Seduce. Kill. But this CIA agent wanted to devour her and she wanted to let him. Will she break her bonds in the life of crime just for him or is mind blowing orgasms without strings too much to handle?

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43 Chapters
“What the hell is going on here?” Alice’s voice boomed over the small whimpers that resonated in the air, the tall raven-haired man released the maid he had pinned against the wall and jerked towards her voice. She was standing in the frame of the balcony entrance to the grand double-isle grey and white kitchen, the sunlight painted her body as a tall silhouette. The man squinted, trying to find her face against the light, his heartbeat cracked like thunder in his chest. “I’m asking again, what is going on here?” Alice’s heel clicked on the floor as she entered the kitchen, she wore an annoyed glare as she looked between the small girl still pressing against the wall from fear and one of her father’s lesser guard men. Tears soaked the front of the girl’s crumpled jade uniform; she was still in a pucker.   
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 Warning, there are a few Italian phrases/sentences and I will be using Google to translate. I don’t speak Italian so please feel free to correct me if I make a mistake :) ***It was pitchblack in the room, cold from the winter air. The only movement she heard was the wind against the window she left open in the bedroom. She was a bit annoyed that no one was home yet. It was a Saturday night, the only time she decided to play dress up and be someone else besides Lionel Caroni's heiress. Now this man was wasting her time. She had contemplated going into the depths of Chicago to take Leonardo Bianchi out just to get it over with, but that would be too messy. A man like him never stayed out too late, he loved bringing shiny pretty things home to play with so she decided to
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With a quick swig, Alice downed her vodka. A drop escaped her lips and caught the side of her mouth. He watched as she swiped her tongue across her lips, that simple action could be passed off as innocent but when she looked back at him, her lips held an almost taunting smirk. “There’s somewhere else you can go where no one can disturb you while you work.” She purred and pulled down the sunglasses she was wearing, just low enough for him to see her eyes-well the grey contacts that were in them. The inky look in his eyes was enough to tell Alice that he was interested, but there was an obvious confinement. As he was about to protest, she grabbed his arm, and pulled him from the stool, ignoring the sultry feeling of his skin on hers. She headed for the back of the club, where the real fun was. Not only did Walsh own a fight club, he also owned a strip club. It was more like a safe haven for some of the underground's most ruthless men, while some of them watched fights and bet on them t
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Alice ran her slender hand over her knee, her gaze was locked on the laptop in front of her on the bed. She had skillfully escaped through a secret door of the club that she used to get in and out. It didn't prove as hectic as the first few times she tries, just a little nudge on the door and she was home free. As soon as she was back inside the mansion she requested the footage from Walsh's club from last night and has been scanning through ever since. Walsh was among the crowd, and like everyone else, he was in a line being led towards an FBI pickup vehicle outside. The line was monitored by two agents, one on each side of the van door. Other agents were scanning the area. She slightly straightened when the man from last night appeared in the line of the camera, his jacket was replaced with a black bulletproof vest, but no FBI bib. So he wasn’t FBI, she deduced. Then he must be from the CIA. She zoomed in on his face, he was sporting a small cut over his right eye; a minor repercu
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Callum Brady-3rd person With tepid fingers, Callum brought the cotton wrapped ice cubes to his jaw. His arms clenched on the desk before him at the painful contact. It had been a while since he even got a bruised ego, now he was sporting a face full of splits and scrapes as if it was trapped in a cat's litter box. And it was all because of that woman. A fragile irish temptress. Or so he thought. "You look like shit." A low, deep voice interrupted his barely formed thoughts. He snapped his head up to meet the eyes of the six feet four strawberry blonde manboy James Archers, who he has to deal with on a daily basis. They had met each other on Callum's first day inducted in the Central Intelligence Agency. It was ordained, James said that day. Callum was fresh out of a briefing from the director at the time which James should have been present and was in desperate need of a drink. It turned out that James was at the same bar, almost mind numbingly drunk. And seven years later, he was s
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A week had passed since that strange meeting with the founders, she thought the feeling she had then would have subsided but it was still there, still lingering.   There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she saw her father, each time she would tell him about it, he would smile softly and touch her cheek saying, “I can’t delay this trip Alice, it’s too important.”   So she believed his words. Lionel Caroni was the most honourable she had ever known and in her line of work, she had met a lot. He was never a man to go back on his promises. And he always had a plan for everything which he executed in perfect precision every time. So when he said something was important, it really was.   Alice never questioned his actions, she trusted him with every fiber
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Cleaner- noun Definition: An assassin who is contracted to kill other assassins; someone who “cleans up” a physical crime. ***** The house was dull ever since the men carried the Don’s lifeless body through the hall down to his bedroom. The assassins that frequented the facility that was built underneath the house had remained down below, not going out for any assignments. Light spilled into the room, revealing that a new day had broken. Lilith sat by Lionel’s side wiping his bloody body, Alice watched over her from behind. It was tradition for the wife of a Don to clean their husband’s corpse. Alice was surprised to see Lilith do it so effortlessly despite the tears in her eyes. Maybe it was because Liltith knew what fate her husband would face in this life, running an organization of trained killers had its risks and she had made peace with it long ago. There was a light knock at the door before Tiago, one of the guards assigned to Lilith, appeared in the doorway. He sent a pain
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Alice’s back was pressed against a cold marble gravestone, her chest rose and fell to the hammering rhythm of her heart. She was heaving mad. This was the main reason she hated wearing heels, those shits were unreliable in a fight, it places you at the receiving end of a reaper’s spear and she knew full well what that receiving end felt like. She hissed at the sight of the clipped heel. Her right hand held her pistol upward towards her chest and the next unbuckled the shoes from her feet and kicked them away. She kept her head hanging low from the impudent copper and lead. The gunshots stopped suddenly and she froze. The heavy silence stretched to an eternity. Nothing put her on edge more than a silent enemy. A few seconds later, low chatter resonated from opposite sides of the graveyard. There it was, the recouping move that every striker had, if only they knew she was right under their noses. Her other hand found her ankle quickly and she twisted the knife upwards, ready for battle.
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She sat rooted in place from the shock. Her limbs couldn't move even if she planned on it. What in the actual fuck?  Those were the same golden brown orbs that she almost swam off into that night, glistening black hair and the ridiculously broad shoulders. His refined suit was replaced by a black cotton coat with a white turtleneck on the inside and dark washed jeans. A dash of 6 o'clock stubble sprinkled his jawline but she had stared at him for too long to not recognize that face. For sure, a week ago, she was kicking the shit out of this man in a blonde wig and heels. She briefly forgot about their encounter because of the past few days but now she was sitting just a few meters away from him. Margaret didn't notice the look on her face, flew up from her seat and rushed over to the man and hugged
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When Alice said I'll be out of your hair soon, she meant those exact words. She had to leave this house. And It had to happen tonight, this very minute. Every second of knowing she was sitting, hiding and worse, in the presence of a CIA agent was nauseatingly painful. It betrayed everything the syndicate stood for, everything the Caroni family stood far. Lionel always said police can be pawns, never a friend. She has seen how true that was on so many occasions and this time couldn’t be any different. If that girl didn’t come to interrupt them at dinner, Callum might have gone too far with his questions and things would have gotten a little messy. She had overheard Margaret telling him how they met, how she didn’t want to go to a hospital. It was only a matter of seconds before he searched her up, if he hadn’t already done it. So every fleeting minute in this house was stressful.A thunderous silence echoed through Margaret’s palatial home. So loud, Alice's ears started to thump. The
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