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“Go,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. “The agreement starts today. Michael will take you home to pack your things. He will bring you back here and we’ll go to my home.”
After thinking about it, the Beast is a horrible name to call him, even in my head. It’s not because of his scars, but because he’s an imposing, scary man. But it’s still fucked up. Standing, I look at him and ask the burning question, “What’s your name?”
Smiling at me coldly, he says one word. “Savage.”
A shiver runs down my spine, and I quickly turn away. Before I head out, I toss over my shoulder, “I’m Abel.” Michael, who I called Driver, steps in front of me and opens the door. Weird how we came to an agreement of me giving him head on demand and didn’t exchange names.
Walking a few steps, I peek over my shoulder as the door is closing and see Savage’s eyes glued to my ass. Yep, the jeans definitely make my ass look good.
Chapter Three
Savage
WhydidIjustagree to take that beautiful boy in exchange for his brother? He doesn’t want me and he never will, judging by the way he recoiled when I looked at him. A reaction I’m used to, though I wish I didn’t get it from him because he’s perfect. I would give just about anything to have him look at me with love. Hell, lust would do better than him being afraid.
As if reading my mind, Quin, my best friend, right-hand man, trusted advisor, and bodyguard extraordinaire of over ten years, says, “He’s not afraid of you.”
I glare at him, and he looks back at me evenly—one of the few people alive that does. He knew what I looked like before the accident and my status doesn’t intimidate him. “Sure, he is. You saw how he looked at me. Who wouldn’t be afraid of these?” I gesture to the scars, and Quin looks at me like I’m an idiot. “What now?” I ask irritably.
“He’s not afraid of you,” he repeats, like I’m going to believe him just because he said it twice. “He’s not one of your employees or men. He has no reason to be afraid of you and I don’t think he’ll ever be.” Quin chuckles lowly, rubbing a thumb over his eyebrow. “He’s feisty. Has some bite to him. You’ll see.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn back to the computer, finishing the email I was in the middle of before my new beauty barged into my office, making my dick take notice. Something that hasn’t happened in years. Not as fast as it responded to him.Abel. “I don’t really give a fuck if he’s afraid of me or not,” I tell him roughly. “He gave me his body for a year. As long as I have his consent, I will use it.” My fingers fly across the keyboard—stabbing at them, more like. Sighing because I feel Quin’s eyes on me, I add, “I’ll make sure he’s not afraid of me when he’s under me. Any other time, that’s his fucking problem.”
Quin snorts but doesn’t say anything further. He knows me well. He knows I won’t cause any undue harm to Abel and knows when to shut the fuck up about him.
Abel is a stunner. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as flawlessly beautiful as him. The hint of eyeliner around those eyes almost drew me in and brought me to my knees—I barely held off. His light brown skin is flawless—unblemished, and radiant. And those curls, how they hung over his forehead had me dying to run my fingers through them, tugging them to get him closer to me. Kind of how I grabbed his throat—tight and rough, to let him know who’s in charge.
I shelve those thoughts. He’s to be mine, not the other way around. I will use him and enjoy him for the year, then he will go back to his normal life, just as I will.
After sending my email, I look at my watch and see that I have just enough time to make it across town to finish my deal with the Irish to sell several crates of AKs, AR-15s and Glocks, and a few crates of coke. Standing, I put on my jacket to go make another deal.
Usually, deals are held at various locations around the city—I tell the contact where to meet and they arrive to get their product. Paddy is the only one I meet personally. There are a few warehouses and hangars at the docks that I own only he knows about, and we only meet every six months, making it fairly safe.
As frowned upon as it is, I trust Paddy. It’s not wise in this business, but I know he won’t cross me. My deals with him are always fair, the price only increasing with the market. Even then, I keep Paddy’s lower than others. Paddy and I grew up together, so to speak. His father did business with my father, and we’ve both taken up the mantle—seems fitting that I keep our relationship intact.
While gunrunning and drugs aren’t my favorite ways to make money, it’s what I know. I have the same connection my father had and his father before him. The family business of guns and drugs is lucrative, but I’m honestly getting weary of the life. I should have been tired of it after I got the scars, but as my father’s only child, I took over when he was murdered.
Quin walks out first, making sure the hallways are clear. We both know they are, as I have cameras planted everywhere and the feeds are connected to one of the screens my desk. I discreetly placed my security team around the lobby and in the garage, where they’re waiting for me to let them know I’m on the move. Only Quin and Michael come to my office and I only sent them away today and was without guards for an hour so they could help my security team reconfigure the motion sensors at my home. It was just our luck that Abel showed up when he did.
Abel’s brother is why we have to reconfigure the system. I have motion sensors set up on all of my doors, every set of windows, and on the bottom floor of my home, since I don’t leave my wing when I retire for bed. They are all subtly hidden and have a second source of power. I’m sure after his brother cut the first power source, he assumed that was it and he was in. I got the alert just as he dropped on the other side of my ten-foot retaining wall.
Quin gives me shit all the time, saying I need to have my other guards walking a patrol, but I don’t want to give my snobby neighbors any reason to call the cops. This side of my business isn’t legal and I want to stay as low key as possible. Quin constantly tells me it’s not smart, but my life has been threatened more than once. I’d rather be comfortable in my home. Besides, none of that shit saved my father.
My father, Joe B as he liked to be called, was murdered while he slept—shot twice in the chest and once in the head—in a home that was patrolled by almost a dozen men. After I asked the men who were on duty that night—all of them saying they didn’t see or hear anything that would warrant them checking on my father for hours—I killed them all myself. There were no clues on who did it and I didn’t want any men who may have crossed my father guarding me. The Russians didn’t brag about taking out their largest competitor, which led me to believe it was an inside job from his own men.
So, no extra guards walking around my estate. Quin and Michael are enough. I can take care of myself, and my reputation precedes me—they don’t call me Savage for nothing.
The motion sensors also trigger an alarm in the pool house the two of them share and they were alerted when I was. Making sure Quin didn’t come to drag Abel’s brother out was more difficult than it should have been. The whispered conversation could have given away the fact that I knew he was in my office.
It’s Quin’s job to guard me and I know he’s as protective of me as I am of him, but I would have used the gun under my pillow had the brother gotten to my room.
I’ll give it to Abel’s brother; he was silent and extremely thorough. Had I not had my security system in place, he would have gotten away with my home office safe’s contents.
Childish as it was, I let him feel as if he was going to get away with the theft. It was the first time anyone had broken into my home. No one knows much about me—I like it that way—but everyone knows about the Benavelli family. No one would be stupid enough to break in—except this guy, apparently.
It wasn’t until he got back outside, thinking he succeeded, that Quin and Michael took him down. He’s being held at one of the offices we own at the docks until I figure out what to do with him. And since I have Abel, it’s figured out. We questioned him, but he apparently knows nothing of my dealings.
We make it to the hangar, and the guards that stand sentry pull the doors open. Quin drives to the back while the car full of guards that came with us drives around the corner to wait until the deal is done. While we wait for the Irish to arrive, I feel a sense of unease, but not because of the deal that’s about to go down. It has to do with being in the life in general when I really don’t have to. I got lucky to have gotten into the online payment portal boom when it started, so going legit and leaving the business is always an option—one I want to take more and more every day. My illegal business is successful, but something is telling me it won’t last.
