I pull up to Empire just before midnight, six hours after I was originally meant to meet my brother. It’s Wednesday night, so not the busiest night of the week for one of the many clubs around Chicago owned by Frost Industries, but there are still people everywhere as I push my way through the dance floor to the VIP area on the other side.
Empire is Storm’s preferred location for these kinds of discussions because the music drowns out any chance of being overheard, and even the feds’ very best bugs couldn’t make heads or tails of a conversation with the bass pumping the way it does here.
My brother’s eyes lock on mine as I pass the bouncer and fall into the seat next to him. Today didn’t go how I expected, and Storm must see that on my face as he hands me a glass of whiskey.
“Rough day?” he asks, tipping his own drink back.
“You have no idea.” I drain the glass in one go and then lean forward, refilling my glass and repeating the process.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
“What happened to your hand?” He nods toward my split knuckles. I should have known he would notice it, but I didn’t have time to go home to get cleaned up after I left Brad’s because I was already so fucking late.
“Someone’s face had a disagreement with it.” I smirk. The memory of pounding my fist into Brad’s face is one of the only good things I’ll take out of this hell of a day. Well that, and touching Emerson the way I’ve longed to since the moment I first caught sight of her. There are so many things I want to do to her, and almost all of them involve her being completely naked, but it’s a start.
Storm chuckles. “One of Russo’s men?”
I shake my head. “No, it was personal.”
He stares at me for long moments, disbelief creeping into his features. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No.” I’m hoping if I give him as little as possible, he’ll stop asking. I want to tell my family about Emerson, to tell them I’ve laid claim on her, but until she accepts it, I don’t want them to know.
A knowing smirk tugs at his lips as he refills both our glasses. “So it’s a woman? I never thought I’d see the day my big brother would find himself infatuated with a member of the fairer sex, but miracles do happen.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap.
Storm barely muffles the laugh with his glass, and I hate that the smug son of a bitch is right. I’m one of four, and I’ve always been the least likely to settle down. None of us have ever been particularly interested in marriage and kids, but at least they dated to some extent. Not me. I’ve always only been interested in getting my dick wet and getting out of there as quickly as humanly possible. I’m not going to live it down anytime soon.
“Any progress on our Russo problem?” Storm switches to work talk so easily because his entire life is work. He doesn’t take a day off, I can’t remember the last time he had a holiday, and he looks more stressed every time I see him.
I shake my head. “Nope. The shipment that went missing last week hasn’t turned up either. I thought they’d be dumb enough to start selling right away, but they haven’t. In fact, there are fewer of his men on the street than usual. Everett’s been looking into it, said the chatter on the dark web has been dead as well.”
“He have any idea what they might be up to?”
I shake my head. “He’s as clueless as the rest of us.”
“That’s rare.”
I nod. “Everett can usually track the chatter and figure out what those dumb fucks are up to, but not this time.”
“Which means it’s big.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. They’re getting bold since they set me up. Stealing an entire shipment of our weapons is ballsy, especially because they were military grade. They’re getting more and more cocky, which means they have something up their sleeve.”
“Don’t remind me.” Storm rolls his eyes and drains another glass of whiskey. “The Russian military is pissed, and they’re not being placated by any of my usual lines. They want to know where their weapons are, and I don’t have any fucking answers for them.”
I sigh. “I don’t know what else to do, bro. Our guys are looking under every rock, but they’ve gone to ground like the fucking rats they are.”
“They have to come up for air eventually.”
Iwalk into the youth center the next morning with purpose. I need to see Emerson. I need to see my woman and remind her that while she hasn’t accepted it yet, she is mine and there’s nothing she can do about it.
Normally in the mornings I go straight to the kitchen to help John, but this morning I need to see my girl. She’s been getting in earlier this week, getting the final touches organized for the gala in a few nights, so I know she’ll be at her desk already.
When I walk into the office, she doesn’t notice me immediately, she’s too busy staring at her computer screen with a scowl on her face. “Do the caterers need another stern talking to?” I chuckle.
Emerson startles, her hand flying to her chest before she quickly tugs her sweatshirt down past her wrist. The gesture would have seemed innocent if she didn’t look so fucking guilty.
Before I’ve even decided to move, I’m across the room, my hands falling to the arms of the desk chair she’s sitting in, caging her in.
Her breath quickens and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, sweet girl.”
Emerson’s eyes meet mine, and I see the tiredness behind them. The guy I have tailing her said she didn’t get in until four this morning, and she’s been here since before seven, which means she either got very little sleep or none at all.
“I’m jumpy after yesterday,” she tells me honestly. The black smudges under her eyes are deeper than yesterday, and I can’t stop myself from brushing my thumb across the darkness.
“You’re tired. Did you sleep?”
She looks to consider me as if she’s trying to decide if she should lie to me or not, but when she sighs, I know she’s going to tell me the truth. Her shoulders are hunched, and she looks defeated in a way I haven’t seen before. I’ve spent a lot of time with Emerson over the last week and a half, and she has always been strong and determined. Instead, the woman sitting in front of me looks like she’s fighting to keep herself together.
She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t sleep. I got home from the club late, and I needed to be here early this morning to get a few things for the gala done.”
“You need sleep.”
Emerson nods. “I know.”
The sass I’ve come to expect from her is nowhere to be seen, and I find myself missing it. I’ve always liked my women to know their place, to be submissive, but the more time I spend with Emerson, the less I want that. I crave her spunk, the glint in her eye when she knows she’s pushing my buttons, the way the corners of her mouth quirk up when she’s about to backtalk me.
Part of me wants to demand she go home to get some sleep, but I don’t want her to pull away. Not when she seems so fragile. “Are you working tonight?” I ask, moving to crouch in front of her. I should move to the chair across the desk, but I can’t stand to be away from her just yet. I need a few more moments with her within my reach.
Emerson nods and a defeated sigh falls from her mouth. The sound has something inside me, something I’ve never felt before, clenching almost to the point of pain.
“Can you take the night off?”
She shakes her head, her eyes staring at her hands in her lap.
It’s because of the money, the debt that idiot racked up in her name, the debt I’m trying to pay off without her knowing about it straight away. Everett is working on a way to make it look like there was an error in the system that wiped it, but he’s coming up empty. I should just do it and tell her I have, at least then the fire would be back behind her emerald irises, but I don’t want to make her mad.
“What can I do to help with the gala? Maybe you can go home for a nap before your shift tonight?”
Emerson lets out a breath and looks at the to-do list on her desk. Fuck. I hate seeing her like this. So miserable. So tired. So defeated. I can’t fucking stand it. The urge to take control, to make her get some sleep, to make her quit her two shitty jobs so she can focus on the work she loves and her studies, my entire being screams at me to do what comes naturally to me. But I don’t. There will be a time and place for me to take over, to give her rules she has to follow, to make sure I know where she is at every second of every day. But today isn’t that day.
“I don’t even know where to start.” Emerson sighs and scrubs her face with both hands, her sweatshirt rolling up slightly and showing me her wrist for the first time since I walked it. Her very bruised wrist.
Before I’m even conscious of what I’m doing, I grab her hand in mine and push the sleeve to her elbow, fresh rage erupting behind my eyes. Marks I didn’t put on my girl. “What the fuck is this?” I growl. “And don’t even think about lying to me. I know you didn’t have these when I left you last night, so where the fuck did they come from?” My eyes are glued to the dark angry marks around her wrist in the shape of a hand. I don’t give a fuck how low her iron is, there’s no fucking way this was done accidentally. Whoever put their hands on my woman did this intentionally.
The color drains from her face as she looks from me to her wrist, and then back again. “I… um…” She’s struggling to come up with a lie I’m going to believe, which means however she got these bruises is bad.
“And why the fuck didn’t you call me? I was very clear about wanting to know if you’re hurt or unwell!”
It’s not until Emerson flinches that I realize I’ve raised my voice, her breaths coming in hard and fast. I’m scaring her. That’s the last thing I ever want to do. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my raging anger.
“Why do you care?” Emerson whispers, tears filling her eyes.
“I thought I was very clear about that yesterday. You’re mine, and therefore your health and safety are my priority at all times. Now are you going to tell me what the fuck happened and why you didn’t call me the moment this happened?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not yours.” Her voice wavers, her eyes resuming their previous post staring at her hands.
A smirk quirks at the corners of my lips. “That’s where you’re wrong, sweet girl. You may not have known it, but you were mine from that very first day. The moment I locked eyes on you, I knew I was going to claim you.” The honest words slip from my mouth of their own accord.
Her eyes grow wide. “You’re insane.”
“Not insane, baby, just telling you the truth. Now, stop avoiding my questions before you earn yourself more of a punishment than the one you already have owed.”
“Punishment?” Emerson whispers.
“Yes, punishment.”
She sighs and finally meets my eye. I hate how dejected she looks, how the fire I crave is dim. “Angelo Russo and his cousins decided they liked the look of me. They gave me a drink I knew was drugged, and the only reason I wasn’t forced to drink it is because one of the other waitresses saved me. When I was leaving, Angelo grabbed my wrist and told me he wasn’t done with me.”
If I thought I was angry before, I was fucking feral the moment his name fell from her pretty lips. How dare he touch her. How dare he taint her with his evil. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her, let alone touch her. I take a step back from her, not wanting the fury evident on my face to frighten her. If Russo hadn’t already been on my hit list, he sure as fuck is now.
“Rayne…” Emerson’s voice is quiet and has me turning to face her. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I just didn’t know… I mean, you said all that stuff yesterday, and I didn’t realize you meant it.”
“Of course, I meant it,” I growl. “I was very clear on the instructions I gave you.”
She drops her head into her hands, her shoulders deflating. “I don’t understand any of this, Rayne. My life is so fucked up, and you’re overwhelming. I have to go to work tonight, and Russo is almost definitely going to pull the same kind of thing, and this time, I won’t get so lucky.” A loud sob fills the office and a moment later I’ve gathered her in my arms and sat back in the chair she had been sitting in.
“Shh, it’s okay, sweet girl. I’ve got you.” I’ve never felt the need to comfort someone else, not even my sisters, but Emerson’s tears make me want to tear the whole fucking world apart to destroy anything that would ever make her cry. The only tears I ever want to see in her eyes are tears of pleasure as I make her come so many times she loses count.
“I’m sorry.” Emerson buries her face into my chest, her entire body shaking in my arms. I’ve never felt so powerless in my life. I’ve had the power to move mountains since Frost Industries broke into the market when I was twelve. I’ve manipulated people into doing what I wanted them to do, torn lives apart, and killed people for my own benefit. But as I hold Emerson, her tears soaking my shirt, I would give it all up to take her pain away.
“Hey, look at me.” I gently tilt her chin until our eyes meet. “What Russo did isn’t your fault. I know I threw a lot at you yesterday, and I’m not angry you didn’t call me. I’m angry that that fucker is still breathing after putting his hands on you. Russo is a bad guy, the worst of the worst, and the idea of him breathing the same air as you makes me fucking furious.”
Emerson’s bottom lip quivers as more tears cover her cheeks. “But… but… you yelled.” Another sob breaks free, her breaths coming in hard and fast.
Fuck. She’s going to start hyperventilating if she doesn’t settle soon. The tough exterior I’ve come to admire about her is gone, and all that’s left is the vulnerable woman I long to protect from the world, shield from anything that could hurt her.
I reposition her in my lap so she’s straddling my thighs before resting my palms on her cheeks, forcing her eyes to stay locked with mine. “Sweet girl, I need you to listen to me.”
Her eyes widen at our position, but I force myself to ignore it. I force myself to ignore my own heart speeding up as I imagine her riding me like this, her head thrown back as she takes her pleasure, and I ignore how my cock reacts to being so fucking close to her pussy.
“I need you to breathe with me, okay?” I brush my thumbs under her eyes, wiping the tears away before they’re quickly replaced with more.
Emerson nods, closing her eyes for a moment before they meet mine again.
“Nice and slow, breathe in.” I take a deep breath and wait for her to follow suit. She follows my lead immediately, and the dark part of me that craves her submission rejoices. I half expected that because she’s so headstrong, so independent, that she would fight me at every step, but this comes naturally to her. “And out.”
She blows out a breath and the warmth whispers across my cheek, reminding me just how close we are.
“And in… and out.”
I keep the steady rhythm up, watching as the tears start to slow, her breaths begin to even out, and her eyes never leave mine. Emerson is so fucking beautiful right now, unfiltered, real, her walls down for me to see the fragile doll she tries so hard to hide from the world, and I realize just how fucking deep the feelings I never knew I was capable of run.
