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The fact I would scare her to death forces me to restrain myself. But only by a fraction. Instead, I settle for the second-best thing for now. I slip my suit jacket off and wrap it around her trembling shoulders, taking comfort my body heat is now warming her.
I’m not seeing things when I see her shoulders relax a fraction or when she buries her hands in the dark cloth and inhales my scent.
That one action makes my already hard cock twitch.
“Mo chroí,” I whisper before I can help myself. My heart. I think back to my family when I was only a small lad and what my Irish father would whisper to my mother in the old tongue before he headed out the door each morning to provide for his family. Growing up, we were poor and more often than not did without. After I looked on as my father died beaten down, overworked and still poor, I vowed to work for a better life. My brothers followed, and now we sit at the top of the food chain of the underworld. A white-collar life with a criminal infrastructure. Crime pays. Don’t ever think it doesn’t.
All that doesn’t mean I don’t value the lessons my father taught me and my brothers. My father understood love and family came above all else and no amount of time or money will change that. The legacy he instilled in his sons early on in life will carry on long after I’ve left this world through my own children. I’m positive he never intended for his boys to grow up and turn against the straight and narrow path he wanted us to walk. We’re not saints, but we are not evil either and live by a set of rules. Human trafficking, drugs, and prostitution are off limits. Most think those are the only areas to make a handsome living, but they are wrong and have a limited imagination.
That’s where her father comes in. The man loved to gamble and didn’t much care who he owed or went into debt with. Anything was on the table. Like I said. I’m no saint and having a high-powered judge in my pocket is a commodity as valuable as money in the bank. Until my rival thought it a good idea to put a bullet between his eyes when he didn’t pay up in the form of a mistrial for one of his street thugs. Donovan never will learn and eventually his own ego will be his downfall, and I plan on being the man behind the bullet that will send him on into the afterlife, whatever that may be.
It’s no surprise the judge owed more than just me. A man like that thirsts for power and reaches for what he can’t have. Only this time it earned him a bullet and a grave, leaving his daughter vulnerable in the process. What a fucking greedy, self-centered bastard.
But that’s okay. I always come out on top and do my homework. I’ve known about Katriona’s existence from the day her father walked into my office, and I plan on collecting what I’m owed. To be honest, the cool million her father is indebted to me for is nothing compared to the treasure it bought me.
I reach out and tighten my jacket around her shoulders and take comfort when the fear in her eyes lessens as she leans into me.
In that instant, it all becomes crystal clear. She’s my queen and means more to me than the air filling my lungs. How is that even fucking possible? I’m a fucking criminal by any definition of the word and here I am ready to recite God damned lines of Shakespeare for a woman I’ve only known by name and picture for a year.
My gut churns with disgust. She deserves better than a man like me, but I’m a bastard and can’t help myself. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s mine.
The world is a better fucking place without a man like Kane in a position of power but I can’t tell his only daughter that piece of information. I’m no one to talk, but with me, you know what you are getting. Kane was scum and used people’s lives like bargaining chips to win favors from people he had no business socializing with in the first place.
People like me. The boss.
On the outside, I have the perfect family of brothers and friends. Perception is what one wants to see, and I don’t do anything to persuade people to think otherwise. They see the thousand-dollar suits, the multi-million-dollar penthouses, and the opulent office. Their one thought: money. Most never stop to think how it comes to be.
What I do to maintain that wealth and protect my people is my business and mine alone. I don’t have to divulge how my money materializes, and I’m not in the practice of sharing. But with her, I have the uncontrollable desire to share everything.
Her lips part and her eyes search mine. “Who are you?”
I rule the criminal underworld of Chicago with an iron fist, and I took the time and energy to build the reputation that surrounds my rule one thread at a time. A man doesn’t ascend to my caliber without putting a few bodies in the ground. I won’t deny it but every low-life who has taken a bullet from my gun earned it.
“My name is Sylan Ward. For now, you’re safe within these walls.” I repeat.
“Sylan,” she repeats and I want to ravage her mouth with the way my name sounds on her sweet lips.
When someone says my name it’s usually with a reverent whisper while looking over their shoulder. I don’t take anyone’s shit and they know it. I don’t care who you are. But Katriona is different.
She wears her long, dark hair loose and it hangs freely down her back and over one shoulder. The ends brush against her waist, and I have an overwhelming desire to touch her.
I shove my hands in my pockets and evaluate the situation a moment longer weighing my options now that I have her in front of me.
An hour after the news broke of the judge’s death, a clock was placed on Ms. Kane and quickly ticked down to zero. The worst part, she’s unaware of the danger she’s in because if I know about her existence, so does my rival.
“Where is your family, Ms. Kane?”
She blows out a short breath. “Family?” Her head falls back with a bark of laughter. “You mean who else can you gather up off the streets at this god-awful hour of the morning and use your scare tactics on? Yeah, not likely. Why on earth would I put someone else in this position?”
I admire her courage to stick up for others. It’s a trait I don’t see often. Usually, I apply a little force, lean into someone’s weaknesses and they’ll divulge anything I want to know. I once had a man roll over on his own damn son. It was disgusting and why I have little faith in humankind.
She sounds exasperated with this whole night, but I know it’s a mask for the underlying fear. But she would never admit to the latter. She carries too much pride for that.
Her unease is obvious in the way she fidgets with the long sleeves of my jacket. The slight movement proves difficult to look away from when I should be focusing on getting the information I need from her. All I can think about is how soft her hands would be on my body.
I make a deliberate check of my watch as if to show I am losing my patience.
“So I guess it’s true.”
