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“No.” Bastian kissed her neck. “He’s welcome so long as he does nothing to hurt you.”
“If he hurts you, he’s mine,” Garrick grumbled. “Understood?”
She sighed. “Understood.”
“We love you, Ariella, and will always protect you, no matter from who,” Bastian said.
“I know.” She nodded. “Stubborn and overbearing. I wouldn’t want anything less.”
“Go get dressed.” Garrick released her and Bastian. “You’re gonna be late.”
She hurried behind the screen where she’d hung the teal sequin gown, feeling more alive than ever.
They teased her, calling her their siren, but their calls drew her in and kept her locked in their arms every night.
And she wouldn’t change it for the world.
Thankyou so much for reading Siren! I hope you enjoyed meeting Garrick, Bastian and Ariella.
Before Bastian took the job with Henry Trident, he had intended to go work for Henrik Hercules. Having been some family drama he didn’t want anything to do with, he passed. I’m sure Garrick and Ariella are grateful to Henrik for that. I know I am. If you turn the page, you’ll get a sneak peak at Finding His Strength, the story of Henrik Hercules and Megara.
FINDING HIS STRENGTH
Her neck snapped as he thrust once more, the last ripples of his orgasm fading in time with the life draining from her body.
Henrik pulled out and wiped himself clean of her with the crumbled-up bedding. Tossing the blood-stained linen onto her lifeless body, he went in search of his pants.
He twisted his torso to stretch the tight muscles of his back. It had been a long fucking day, and he still had unfinished business that would keep him away from his bed for hours.
After buckling his belt, he gave the woman on the bed another glance. Smooth skin kissed sweetly by the summer sun, round ass, and legs that could probably wrap around him twice. Such a waste.
He went about gathering his phone and his gun, tucking it at his waist before shoving himself into his jacket.
Oliver stood outside the door waiting for him in the hallway.
“Shit.” Henrik glared at him. “You didn’t need to stay right at the fucking door.” He pulled the door to the bedroom closed and began walking down the long corridor to the winding staircase.
“He’s already downstairs,” Oliver said.
“Good.” Henrik tugged the sleeve of his shirt beneath his jacket. He jogged down the staircase easily, the same as he’d done his entire life. “My father?” he asked.
“On his way. The plane took off half an hour ago.” Oliver hesitated. “Your mother is with him.”
Henrik stopped several feet from his office door where two of his men stood. “My stepmother,” he clarified as he turned around to face Oliver, his first in command. “Why is she coming with him? I thought she was spending the summer overseas.”
“I don’t know, and I wasn’t about to ask. Your stepmother goes where she wants,” Oliver said plainly. Henrik had known him since they were both young boys peeking into the girls’ locker room after gym class—not a practice either of them needed to continue as they grew older. Women required no coaxing to enter his bed.
“If they took off half an hour ago, we have maybe another hour and a half before they storm through my front doors. Best to have this situation finished before he gets here.” His father disliked dealings with the Creon family and left the matter to Henrik.
Henrik entered his office.
“Gentleman.” Henrik’s voice boomed into the room. Christian Creon may have been the head of his family, and several decades older than him, but Henrik was still the man of this house. He would not cower to their supposed power.
A firm handshake handed out to Christian, and a curt nod to his two men standing in the background. Henrik waved Christian into his chair as he rounded the large mahogany desk to his own seat. As a child, he’d used the hulking piece of furniture in his games of hide and seek. His father would always keep his silence as Henrik hid at his feet while the other children searched the house for him. None of them would dare enter Jackson Olympus’s office without being granted permission.
But this wasn’t childhood. This was no longer his father’s desk. This was Henrik’s office, his home, his business.
“Matthew McKinnly will no longer be a problem for you,” Henrik said confidently.
