Bound to the calloway's heir

Zane Calloway.

The first time I learned that loyalty meant nothing without power, I was twenty-five years old. It had taken my father's death to open my eyes to the cruelty of the world I lived in, and despite my years of being a tech-savvy investment guy, it didn't stick until the night that served as a turning point in my life. We were at the abandoned bunker downtown, one that reeked of intense perspiration, oozing a stench that lingered for hours, but I barely noticed. My focus was on the plump-looking man fidgeting in front of us. The subject of my lesson. His round-shaped face had been badly beaten with thick purple tones all over, his cracked bloody lip and swollen eyes with watery bags. Black blood seeped from both his nostrils, flowing down his chin to his neck. He held his groin with his hands, the spot where Damien and I had kicked him to the ground. He stood there, wheezing air through what remained of his lips, his breaths visibly labored. He wouldn't last much longer on that side of the ground. "Up!" I barked the words, and he hastily got on his knees, shivering hard with his hands tucked between his knees. A defeated pose. I squeezed the handle of the Calloway-customized chisel tightly with the tip pointed to his forehead, hoping I didn't look half as much as I was shaking inside. All I had ever done up until that night was crunch financial numbers and plot graphs, yet as a true Calloway heir, I had to put up a bold front, especially with my friends watching closely. My actions that night were a determinant of what the rest of our lives would be. I wasn't going to blow the chance. "Please.... let me go. I promise to disappear. I will be discreet, and no word of this will come out. "Please." The trembling man pleaded softly, his voice bringing me back to the task at hand. I could feel his saliva spittle on my wrist. He had closed his eyes in dread, but it had to be done. "Please..." he rasped. "I–I don't know what came over me. I never intended to be a snitch." Lies I crouched in front of him, tilting my head as I studied the pathetic excuse of a man who had helped destroy my father. Not just my father but the entire Calloway dynasty. Everything he had worked hard to acquire was on the line. "You didn't know?" My voice was controlled despite how distasteful I was feeling at that moment. "You didn't know that you sold him out? You ratted him out, the one man who has helped put food on your table for years! He had your family on his priority list." The man's throat bobbed. "I had no choice." "Oh, you fool. There is always a choice. My father had chosen loyalty. And look what it had cost him, you bastard, his fucking life. His empire." My shoulder tensed, a sharp ache radiated from my spine as I forced myself to stand tall. I had learned on my father's dying bed that emotion was weakness. That mercy was a privilege I could no longer afford. "We do not have all evening, Zane. Let's get this over with!" Damien yelled at me, his impatience clearly visible in his tone. "Zane." Ethan's voice cut through the thick silence that followed. "We need to get out of here." I barely heard him. My fingers curled around the handle of the knife in my pocket. Its weight felt light against my fury. The anger at seeing my old man, who was an enigma of strength, reduced to nothing, filled me with rage. When my father died, I promised I would burn down every man responsible. It didn't take me another twenty-five years to understand what was at stake, and the switch from being a law-abiding citizen to a criminal had taken just a few days fueled with revenge. I had to look after my father's empire. It was what he would have wanted me to do. Armed with my friends' skills, we started with our rival's downlines, cutting off their supply chains, bleeding them dry in the market, and sending warnings about their operations. But now, I was done warning the assholes. I was ending every one of them, beginning with the one before me. He started it. He had to go first. The man must have sensed the switch in my expression because he started shaking his head frantically. "No, no, please, I beg you, Mr. Calloway, have mercy." "You brought this upon yourself. You should have thought of that before becoming a rat." In one smooth motion, I withdrew my knife. The blade caught the dim light as I moved. My fingers tightened around the chisel, the cold metal biting into my palm. For a heartbeat, I hesitated, the man's plea echoing in my ears. Then, with a swift, deliberate motion, I drew the blade across his throat. It felt easier than I had imagined while training for the moment. It felt good. I grinned with his blood splashed over the gray shirt I wore, giving it a stain that would never wash off, even with the most potent bleach. A gurgled gasp was the only sound he was able to make as his blood spilled out from the cut. Then silence. I exhaled, relishing the satisfying moment as I wiped off the blood stain on my chisel on his shirt, enjoying the thrill of starting the revenge act. I have always been told that the first kill was always the hardest, but this one felt good, perhaps because he deserved it. By that single act, I crossed the line from being just another investment business owner to being the head of the most powerful criminal cartel in Los Angeles. Behind me, no one spoke. Not Liam, not Ethan, not Noah or Damien. We had made our choice long before the night. We had recited the lines, and it kept echoing in my head as we cleaned up the mess of what had become of the snitch. Before that night was over, I learned another lesson, one my father would have taught me if he hadn't been killed. Power is a delicate thing. Too much of it made men reckless. Too little made them desperate, yet I preferred to be in control regardless. "Well done Zane," Liam said. I just lifted my head, nodded at him, as he said, "How about we hit Lounge to celebrate this?" "Right away?" I asked, glancing over at the spot he had dropped. I turned back to Liam. "What better way than to get this out of our memory than the liquor and the ladies?" Liam said, grinning brightly at me. I shrugged slowly as I ignited the engine. Liam was right, perhaps some bottles of whiskey would help me live with the reality of killing a man. We would drink until they ran out of bottles, burying our heads in the bosoms of random blondes. By morning, every last man responsible for my father's death would be gone. That was the order. And by the time we were done, the Atlas Group was going to be untouchable because we would seize control of their businesses, their power, their entire goddamn empire. Tapping the wheels as I eased the car into the chilly night, I knew what the news headline would be the next day, and it would be nothing related to my supposedly law-abiding billionaire investment company, the Atlas Group.

Sienna Carter

Spring in Los Angeles has always been scented like jasmine fragrance, and I loved it. The freshness filled my nostrils, yet I didn't miss the desperation in it. Maybe that last part was just me. I adjusted my aqua-blue-colored blazer, making sure my silver chain sat pretty on my chest, the locket on it dangling slowly each time I heaved a breath. I reached out to push through the massive glass doors of The Atlas Group, but the sensors picked up my presence and automatically swung open. I didn't belong here. But I needed to be for my survival. Despite how perfectly styled I looked on the outside, my chic blazer on the leather pants with red-bottom matching heels announced my presence at every calculated step I took. Everything about the Atlas Group screamed power and it weirdly unnerved me. Perhaps because gaining power was the reason I always had to switch jobs yearly and the building reeks of power. "Breath, SiSi," I whispered, taking deep breaths, which did little to ease my anxiety. I made my way to the lobby. I let my eyes wander in admiration from the marble floors that gleamed beneath me to the glass walls that reflected the city skyline. The building was a fortress designed to make timid people feel small. But I wasn't raised small. Shit had happened at some point, reshaping my pedigree and all I became was a desperate woman expecting to fit in. The brunette receptionist barely glanced at me as she raised her eyes from the desktop before her. "Name?" "Sienna Carter, Please. I have an interview with the CEO, Mr. Zane Calloway." Her gaze instantly flicked up, assessing me. Whatever she saw made her lips twitch. I didn't have the energy to care. "The PA role, right?" She asked, holding my gaze. "Yes Ma'am" I replied curtly. She paused, glanced through the laptop before her, then back at me. "The others had their interview with him yesterday," she said, more to herself than to me. I didn't respond, wondering why she was confused, since she probably booked the appointment. Her manicured fingers went swiping over the keyboard with her eyes fixed on the screen again. After what seemed like an eternity but a few seconds, she nodded toward the elevator. "Top floor." "Thank you," I said, then hurriedly turned before she could see the way my fingers tightened around the strap of my bag in anxiety. I hopped into the elevator and the doors slid shut with a soft ding. I exhaled through my mouth as the elevator climbed to the 20th floor. By the time I reached the penthouse level, my pulse was an erratic drumbeat. The doors opened to an expansive office with aesthetically pleasing lighting. The sudden switch in scenery was enough to make my pupils water up. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows design gave the city an endless stretch beneath the clouds and I almost walked to it to enjoy the view if my eyes had not caught a presence. At the heart of the wall, I saw a man standing at the window, his back to me. I knew that was him. The man whose decision would decide my fate. To be well-prepared, I read extensively about him. And my best friend, Belinda Adams, also made sure I knew the company's organogram and the major players for every role I applied for, and there was so much the internet had to tell about Zane Calloway. Zane was the kind of man who moved the stock markets with a single word.He was openly ruthless. His business strategies showed he was a calculative man. The kind of man who didn't rise to power by playing fair. And now I was about to sit across from him, praying he didn't see straight through my facade to impress him enough to get myself hired. And if the whispers were true, he was far deeper into the underground operations of Los Angeles than anyone dared admit. In fact, believing that rumor to be true was one of the reasons I was there to be interviewed as his assistant. I settled my eyes on the six-foot-tall man before me. His stance was relaxed, he had his hands in the pockets of his tailored slacks, but there was nothing casual about him. Not the precision hairstyle, enhancing the tone of his dark hair. Not the cut of his designer-customized suit that defined his physique. And definitely not the lethal stillness in his posture. He was what my hopelessly romantic Belinda would describe as the Greek demigod... Zeus. If my calculations were right, he was going to be several inches tall, a head full of dark brown hair that was perfectly styled in waves and a body so toned from years of hitting the gym. As if he was on a cue, he turned to face me and suddenly, the expansive room felt smaller and hotter, making it feel like the air conditioning system stopped working abruptly. His squared face that held those icy-blue eyes locked onto me with the kind of intensity that made it clear he may already know everything about me. I had one shot at this, and I could not afford to blow it. Knowing that I wasn't scheduled with the first set of applicants meant that Life had given me this one chance to convince Zane Calloway that I was not just another overqualified applicant looking for a job. I was not going to show him that I was one scared woman with secrets buried so deep they could kill me. I walked closer, my eyes not leaving him despite how much I wanted to stand and stare at him. Those dangerously sexy full lips, covered with a fuller mustache and well-trimmed beards, and his nose, pointy and perfect for his squared face, but it was his eyes that stopped me in my tracks. And definitely not the type to miss a thing. I couldn't afford to be timid. God help me! "You're late." His voice has an edge to it, a warning I wasn't sure I wanted to test. My heartbeat began to race. I lifted my chin, ignoring the urge to wrap my arm around my chest to calm my heart. I darted my eyes as I spoke, looking between the gold-plated digital clock on his desk and his face. "Your assistant scheduled my interview for noon. It is noon." He had one dark brow lifted, his eyes watching me intently. "I expected you earlier." I forced my shoulders back. "Then you should have scheduled it earlier." Where had the confidence come from? I winced, clutching my bag to hide my nervousness away from his prying eyes. I saw a flicker of something on his face, and then it was gone immediately, replaced with a Stoic expression. "Sit." He grunted at me as he gestured a finger to the chair across from his desk. He clearly loved to be in control and be obeyed. I was not about to test his patience, knowing how much getting the job meant to me. I forced myself to move from the spot, to ignore the way his presence made the air in the room feel heavier. It wasn't working. Zane Calloway was everything the press said, and even more. He could undress any woman just by staring and, from the look at the state of my body, I knew my butt would be naked if he asked for it. His voice echoed through my body, tugging at spots I didn't even know existed inside me. Why does this man get to have this much pull over me in a few minutes? Then, I did the little trick I had learned years ago. I mentally assured myself that I had faced men like him before. Men who thought they owned the world. Zane Calloway was just another one. Except... he wasn't. I moved carefully, sinking into the chair to steady my weak legs. He didn't speak right away. Instead, he stood rooted to the spot he had been since I stepped in, watching me. The silence stretched until it was unbearable, yet I refused to succumb to my fear of him...nor to the growing moisture between my legs. Finally, he walked to his desk, lowering himself into the seat across from me with the kind of deliberate ease that made it clear he owned every inch of this place. I sighed, sucking in enough air to brace myself for the conversation that would determine my fate in Atlas Group. He didn't reach for my résumé, he didn't even glance at the portfolio marked with applicants in front of him. He just studied me. Say something, Zane Calloway, say something. I crossed my legs at the ankle, tucking my palm between my thighs as I waited for the man to speak. Then he placed a hand on his cheek, tilting his head to the side, "Tell me, Ms. Carter. Why do you want this job?" The trap question His tone suggested he was not merely asking a question, it didn't even sound like a question. He was baiting me intentionally. I knew better than to answer with the truth. I could tell him I needed a fresh start and that I was drowning under bills. That I had spent years running from a past, I barely survived. Instead, I smiled softly at him. He didn't smile back. "I'm good at what I do. And I think you're a man who only hires the best," I replied. "You think you can handle working here." He sneered, challenging me with that sentence. I tilted my head. "That depends. Are you as impossible to work for as they say?" His lips curled slightly as if he almost appreciated the answer. Almost. "I don't like liars. They repulse me," he said casually. The words sent a chill down my spine. Who was I fooling? He knows Instead of breaking, I kept my expression neutral, my hands steady in my lap. "That's convenient. Neither do I." A beat of silence passed between us and for a second I almost said something to distract the awkwardness. Then his eyes darkened, a slow, deliberate shift that sent a warning through my blood. He flipped the button on his laptop and nodded, staring at the screen. It didn't take me a second longer to realize what he was looking at. "You claimed to have worked with Baxters for three years," he said. It was a statement, not a question. But I knew what he was looking for. The gap in my records. The trail didn't quite add up. I kept my expression neutral. "That's correct." His piercing gaze pinned me to my seat. "Yet, they have no record of you. HR couldn't get any recommendation from them and all the others you claim to have worked with." My blood dried up instantly, yet I didn't flinch. Didn't break eye contact. "I left on bad terms," I said. "Not every job ends with a glowing recommendation. It is as if no one had heard of Sienna Carter ever." His stare sharpened, for a second, just one I swore he could see straight through me. Through my forged credentials. Through the carefully constructed past. Through the lies I needed to tell in order for me to keep breathing. I met his gaze, willing my heartbeat to slow. "I can get good references if that's what you're asking, but try me, I am good at my job." "I see," he said. He was deliberately pushing me and I couldn't afford to break. Because if Zane Calloway saw a single crack, he would tear me apart. Then, just as suddenly as it came, he let it go. He reached into his desk, pulling out a wad of papers. "The job pays well, as clearly stated in this contract. You will handle my schedule, work with me on operations and follow instructions without question. Understood?" Relief curled through me as I reached for the contract. The moment my fingers brushed against his, it unleashed the control I had over my insides. The burning sensation that felt slightly random set off chaos in my body. I felt my nipples taut, and the moisture dropped between my thighs. Lifting my eyes to meet his, I noticed that he stilled momentarily, holding the papers. He must have felt it, too. For a fraction of a second, his gaze dropped to where our hands touched. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. He let go of the papers at once. I cleared my throat. "Understood." His lips quirked in a smirk. A predator's satisfaction. "Welcome to The Atlas Group, Ms. Carter." And just like that, I was employed again. I exhaled, relief curling through me. But as I rose, holding his gaze, I noticed how something dark flickered behind his eyes. Suddenly, I had the chilling sensation that this wasn't just a random interview. And if there was one thing I had come to trust in my years of running around, it was my guts. What my guts were telling me at that moment was that I had no idea if Zane Calloway knew who I was and if I had just walked willingly into the lion's den. I shrugged off the feeling, replacing it with the excitement that I had at last gotten another job. It wasn't just another job. I was the personal assistant to the sexy-looking Zane Calloway of the Atlas Groups. Belinda would want to hear every inch of the encounter. *** "Easy girl, you're gripping that thing like it's about to fly out of your hands," Belinda Adams mused, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her red nails gleaming as she took a sip of the iced coffee she had smuggled into my car. "Relax, Sienna. This is supposed to be fun, remember?" The city lights blurred against my windshield as I drove down the streets, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel. I told myself it was perfectly fine and that I deserved this victory celebration. A night out with my best girl to distract me and to give me a break from the suffocating fear that had wrapped itself around my life. I forced my shoulders to loosen, inhaling deeply through my nose, "I know. "Pretty Liar." I shot her a look, but she just grinned, completely unbothered. Belinda had been my best friend since college, the one person who never let me get away with my bullshit. She flicked through the playlist on my phone, her gaze narrowing when she saw what I had on. "Absolutely not," she said, hitting the skip until an upbeat club track filled the car. "We're going to a lounge, not a funeral." I sighed, but a small smile played on my lips. This was what I needed. Normalcy. Something to remind me I was still Sienna Carter and not just a woman running from a past she could never quite escape. The conversation between us flowed easily, but after a few minutes, my paranoia crept back in. I couldn't help it. Every time I stopped at a light, I checked my mirrors. Every time a car turned in the same direction as mine twice, my fingers twitched toward my phone. I was being ridiculous about it, but I had to be. It had been five years since my father's dying words to me as he handed me the silver chain locket had been whispered through bloody lips. Stay hidden, SiSi. Stay alert. Keep this safe. It is your leverage to survive. Never let them find you. Five heart-breaking years since I buried the girl I used to be and started over. But lately, the past has been creeping back. I reached for the locket under my shirt, it had stayed on my neck through the years. I twisted the oval-shaped pendant on the locket like I do every time I needed to relive that terrible night. And there was Zane Calloway. I hadn't expected him to pull me into his world the way he had effortlessly. I hadn't expected the intensity, the way he looked at me, like he saw everything. And I sure as hell hadn't expected him to make me feel something beyond fear. Which was exactly why I needed tonight. To forget and let go. "You're doing that thing again," Belinda said, not looking up from her phone. "What thing?" "Making that humming sound you make when you are overthinking." I exhaled through my nose. She finally turned to face me. "Sienna, it's over. " Five years a long-ass time." I stayed silent, wishing I could be just as unbothered as she wanted. "You need to stop letting this ruin your life", she continued. "Look around, Sienna. You're not in danger anymore. No one's after you." I wanted to believe her. I really do. "You're right, Bel," I said, even though a part of me knew it was far from being the truth. I would never stop running. Belinda grinned. "Of course, I'm always right. Now, let's go get wasted and pretend like we don't have any work responsibilities for one night." I hesitated, letting out a deep groan. "Sienna. It's one night. One night, when you're not the girl with a terrific past. One night where you're just...YOU. Zane Calloway's new personal assistant. Just bask in that mood." I took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay, girl. Let's turn this shit up." Her scream of excitement nearly made me swerve off the road. And just like that, I let myself believe for just a few hours that I was free of my haunting past.

Zane.

I took a long sip of the black coffee, swallowing it in one gulp then I let down the mug to the saucer with a loud bang. The sound rattled the stuff on my desk. "Dammit" I yelled, leaning forward, I grabbed a crystal ball, rolling it between my fingers. I felt the warm sensation of the coffee as it flowed through my body. Who was I fooling, it wasn't the coffee, it was my desires. The bump poking at my zipper between my thighs was evident I was doing a bad job of controlling the intense desire coursing through my loins. The moment the twenty-five-year-old brown-haired, round face, curvy lady walked into my office, I knew I had made a miscalculation. And in all the years of strategically deciding things in Atlas, that was one grave mistake. I realized as her sharp, witty tongue spoke during the interview how I had miscalculated my move. The mistake wasn't in inviting her to be hired for the role; that decision was deliberate. It was a necessary move in a much larger game. The mistake was in underestimating the sexuality of her presence. I didn't realize how much power having her around me would set off passionate flames I had believed to have control over. Everything in my thirty-year-old life was meticulously calculated. The streams of businesses I owned, the investments I made, and the enemies I crushed before they even thought of betraying me. Even the ladies I had had flings with, all were never done without careful consideration. That was why when Sienna Carter walked into my office. I knew she was going to be more of a problem than a means to a solution I had wanted. "Goddaamit" I cuss, crossing my thighs as I shut off the lustful thoughts trying to invade my head. I needed to focus on work, draft a careful plan of the strategies I needed to draw out the enemies now that I have a lethal weapon in my care. Sienna was supposed to be just another assistant. Another nameless employee who would handle my paperwork and follow orders. If only Madison Gaye hadn't quit on short notice to pursue her supposedly happily ever after with a clown she met days ago on the job. The bimbo, who I had only tolerated because she gets things done a quarter of the time, better than the other ten I had worked with in years. But the moment I saw Sienna with those chestnut-brown long waves, her golden-hazel eyes that burned with something defiant, the fierceness I would have a sweet time bending to my will and a mouth that looked like it had never once bitten back a retort. And those gorgeous long legs that filled out the pants in the right ways, they would be perfect, wrapped around my neck as I plunged into her, while she grabbed onto the sheet, begging for more. And her perfect dentition that had come from years of sticking to her dental routines when she spoke, it would be awesome watching them open wide without care while she screamed her release. I shrug off the thought recalling how she had looked at me like she wasn't afraid of Zane Calloway of the Atlas Group, how dare she. Not acting like she feared me may have felt like a good step in her books but in mine, that was her first mistake. Her second mistake was lying to me. I knew exactly who she was and the other identities she had used in the past. I had seen her face before in a classified report about a cartel that was taken out a few years ago. A clean-out operation that should have left no survivors. And yet, here she was, looking vibrant and untouched. A goddamn walking question mark. And a very sexy looking one at that. I didn't believe in coincidence. I believed in leverage. So, I let her think she had a job and let her believe she was just another assistant working under my name because I wanted to know why a ghost from a supposedly dead cartel is in my office. Yet the feistiness about her unnerves me. Unlike every other lady who had worked with me, she didn't shrink under the weight of my gaze. She didn't fidget and stumble over her words like people do in my presence. She met my stare head-on and was too damn challenging for my liking. Most people broke under my scrutiny. Sienna held her ground. And that was going to be a problem. Or not... considering what I was planning to do to her, it wouldn't take me more than a few days to break her. Not mentally but in every sexual way possible, and from the satisfied cries from my ladies, she would want it very much. None had ever refused my experienced touch and Sienna wasn't about to be the first. Focus I sighed, feeling the bump between my legs slowly disappearing as I grind my teeth against each other, gaining back control. In seconds, it had leveled down. The bright sun streamed through the glass windows of the office and I let my gaze wander to Sienna sitting at the desk outside my office. I almost regrated it because that triggered a reaction between my legs, I hastily covered it with both legs to stop the swelling. The glass walls gave me the luxury of watching her work. Not out of curiosity but necessity knowing she was a wild card. One, I had no choice but to keep close. The one question I needed to answer was to know if she was aware of her situation too. Her body language was too careful, shoulders squared, spine straight, and every movement was deliberate. She typed with precision, her fingers flying over the keys, posture flawless. But there was something in the way her hand tightened on the mouse, the slight stiffness in her shoulders when she sensed me watching. She was trying to hide something. And I was going to figure out what it was. I stepped out of my office, my presence enough to send a ripple through the space. People tend to move differently around me, quieter, sharper, and more aware of every breath they take. Yet Sienna didn't flinch. She didn't even look up. We will correct that soon enough. By the time I was done with her, my presence would have her jumping for attention. "Do you always type that fast, or are you trying to impress me?" My voice was quiet but loud enough to reach her. She didn't pause. "If I wanted to impress you, Mr. Calloway, you would know." My lips curled slightly. Sharp tongue. I should have expected as much. Leaning against the edge of her desk, I folded my arms. "You're new here so I will give you some advice." "Is this the part where you tell me to be respectful?" I cocked a brow. "No. It's the part where I tell you that working for me means absolute control over every detail. I do not tolerate mistakes and will not take any excuses." She finally looked up, meeting my gaze with those infuriatingly unreadable eyes. "And if I don't like being controlled?" So they always say at first, soon I liked challenges, the type she was throwing at me at that moment. "Then you're in the wrong office." For the first time, I saw a flicker of something behind her masked face. Momentary irritation. She exhaled slowly, then turned back to her screen. "Duly noted, sir." Sir The way she said that word made me realize I was not going to have a hard time making her bend to my rules. It felt just right. I should have left then, but instead, I let the silence stretch until she finally glanced up at me, her golden-hazel eyes flickering with something unreadable before she straightened. "Is there something else you need, Mr. Calloway?" Oh yes Sienna, I want to bend you over this desk and show you different ways on how to be a perfect assistant. I want to make you cry with passion through this wing. Oh I have so much I want to do to you. Instead of voicing these thoughts out loud, I stepped closer, watching the way her posture stiffened as I rounded her desk. "I want the rest of my appointment for the day canceled," I said surprising myself. She tilted her head. "Why? You're still here," she said. The defiance in her eyes teased me. If only she knew how much I was fighting the urge to grab her at that moment. "I own the damn company." I grumbled She shrugged. "I see. And since I work for the man who owns the damn company. I will do as asked, sir." She was good. She knew exactly how to play this game never outright defiant, never overtly dismissive. Just enough pushback to let me know she wasn't afraid of me. She should be. And yet, when I placed my hands flat on the desk beside hers, she didn't pull away nor even blink. "Is that how you see this?" I murmured. "A job?" Her breath hitched. Just slightly. If I hadn't been so close, I might not have caught it. But I did. And for some fucking reason, I liked it. Her chin lifted. "Isn't it?" Without another word or a glance at her, I walked out of the room to the elevator. It wasn't until the doors were shut behind me that I was able to feel the bulge between my legs reduce to bubbles in seconds. Oh Sienna Carter, you have no idea the things I have planned for you! *** The exclusive lounge hummed with low conversations, the kind that only happened in places where men like us gathered. Powerfully dangerous men. Light smoke curled in the air from Damien's cigar mixed with the satisfying scent of expensive whiskey. The lighting was dim, just as we preferred. A low hum of jazz played from the speakers, but the sound barely cut through the murmured conversations and the occasional clink of crystal against marble tabletops. This was our usual hangout spot, an off-the-books lounge hidden away in the heart of Los Angeles. The kind of place where men like us didn't have to look over our shoulders because we own the damn building. No one walked through these doors without our permission. Yet, my mind wasn't in the room nor was the conversation going on around me. It was on Sienna and the shades of dirty things I wanted to do to her. I swirled the whiskey in my glass absentmindedly, watching the amber liquid catch the glow of the chandelier above my couch. She had no idea how deep she had fallen into my domineering world and clearly had no idea that her presence in my life was deliberate. A necessity. She was my bait, whether she realized it or not. A bait I would want a taste of before the actual game began. Across the table, Damien exhaled a long stream of smoke, his sharp gaze narrowing on Noah. "You look like you're about to kill someone." Ethan smirked, sipping his drink. "Which isn't unusual, but tonight it feels... different." Liam, who had a brunette sitting on his lap, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. He had that look, the smirk expression that said he was enjoying the coziness between him and the lady caressing his body. Noah, who had barely said a word since we got there, had his eyes fixed on me, like he was having me studied. He reached for his glass of rum before speaking. "Go on, Damien, out with it." Damien leaned back, stretching his legs across the floor like he had all the time in the world. "You should've seen the guy's face when I told him who I was," he said, smirking. "He went pale, stammered like a kid caught stealing candy." Noah snorted. "And yet you still let him walk away?" "I'm trying to be merciful." Ethan chuckled, nursing his drink. "That's not what I heard. Word on the street is you let him crawl out of the alley, half-conscious and in enough blood to swim in." Damien shrugged, grinning. "Same thing." The table erupted into laughter, but I barely heard them. My glass sat untouched in my hand. The conversation faded into background noise, my thoughts consumed by one person. Sienna. She was supposed to be bait. A way to draw out the last remnants of the cartel men who destroyed my life years ago. They had vanished into thin air and hidden in the shadows. But now, they had resurfaced, and in an odd way, their focus was set on her, too. It is why I wanted her by my side. Why Sienna and what does the Cartel want with her? That was the question that kept me awake at night since her resume popped up on my screen. She was the least qualified for the job, with a career gap and deliberate missing information, yet I had asked HR to invite her over. She had no idea the kind of danger she was in. perhaps not even the slightest idea that her presence in my world wasn't a coincidence. I needed to keep her close in order to use her to lure them out. But every time I looked at her, the cold logic of my plan wavered replaced with a crazy burning lust for her gorgeously sculpted body. Liam must have noticed my silence because he nudged his drink toward me. "Are you going to keep brooding all night, or are you actually going to drink that?" I exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand across my jaw. "Just thinking." Liam raised a brow. "About?" I didn't answer. Not right away. I glanced around the lounge, taking in the familiar faces and the safety of our territory. It wasn't often I let my guard down, but with these men, I didn't have to pretend. The other three were busy jesting and had no interest in our side talk. So, I said, "Excuse the brunette" "You heard the man, baby. Let's continue this later," Liam said, kissing the brunette on the lips. I watch, wondering how he keeps up with the number of ladies at his beck and call. Different ones every time we hung out. I prefer mine in a certain way that doesn't come in handy. The brunette cuddled him for a few seconds, whispering words I didn't bother to listen to before she got off his lap, wiggling her ass at him seductively before finally walking away. I sighed, shaking my head. Liam shrugged at me, "Come on, man, don't judge a brother for obliging the ladies. They love me, man" "Whatever. I have got a more pressing issue," I said, glancing over at the other guys. They were still engrossed in the bloody tales Damien was feeding them with. "What is it, Zane? I haven't seen you brood this much in years," Liam said. "Sienna Carter." Liam didn't react at first. He just took a slow sip of his whiskey, letting my words settle. Then, he leaned in slightly. "What about your new Personal Assistant? That's her name, right?" I let out a slow breath. "The cartel. I believe they are after her." He frowned. "You're sure about this?" I nodded. "Crystal. Same men. The ones we didn't finish." His jaw tightened. He didn't need me to explain further. He knew exactly who I was talking about. The shadows of our past. "What does she have in common? What do you want us to do?" he asked, taking another sip of his drink. I should have said what I needed to say, that we simply put security on her, keep her at a reachable distance, and let my men track every step she takes until we find the bastards hunting her. That's what I should have done. Instead, I said, "I'm keeping her close." Liam's eyes sharpened. "How close?" "She stays as my P.A." His expression darkened. "That's a bad idea, you know this." I knew it was. But I didn't care. "She's safer with me," I said. Liam studied me for a long moment. "This isn't just about keeping her safe." I clenched my jaw, looking away. "It doesn't matter what it is." He sighed, shaking his head. "You're playing a game I do not approve of." I didn't argue because, deep down, I knew he was right. Silence stretched between us, the weight of the past pressing down. We had spent years wiping out the men who had taken everything from us. The men who had left scars, some visible, some buried so deep they still bled when touched. All of them had been eliminated. Except the ones who had vanished. Until now Liam studied me for a long moment, his gaze piercing. "And that's all this is?" I didn't answer. Because I wasn't sure I had one. "Keeping her close is the only way to control the situation." "Damn," Liam said shaking his head. "We're really doing this?" "We don't have a choice," I said. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Then we do it right. We keep eyes on her." Liam nodded. "Agreed. If she's staying with you, we need backup plans in place. This isn't just about her safety, Zane. If they're making moves, this could be blown up into something bigger than we planned." I exhaled slowly, my grip tightening around my glass. I knew what he was saying. This wasn't just about Sienna. This was about finishing what we started. And I would burn the city down before I let those motherfucking assholes from the Cartel take control of the seat I had to crawl to hell to keep.