Lyriope. She doesn’t think I know who she is, but I know who everyone is. I’m Nick motherfucking Hudson. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.

Some people sell products. Weapons. Drugs. People.

Me? I sell information.

The private club I own is where I mine that gold. Every man who holds power in the underworld has had tea with me. Every woman, too. The Morellis aren’t criminals. Not exactly. But I know them. And they know me. I would recognize this young woman as a bastard of Bryant Morelli anywhere. But even if I didn’t, this dark-haired vixen nearly sucks the air from the room with her magnificence. She makes me want to claim her as mine.

She freezes when she hears my voice, refusing to take a step forward. Does she think I’ll disappear if she doesn’t approach? Does she think she can close her eyes and pretend I don’t exist?

“Lyriope,” I nearly growl her name. “Daddy doesn’t know you’re here.”

Her eyes widen, she swallows hard, and then takes a large step into the room, no longer pressing her back against the thick oak door. She straightens her shoulders, lifts her chin, and tightens her jaw.

Good girl.

Don’t show you’re intimidated.

Never show you’re intimidated.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” she says with ice dripping from her words. I love her smokescreen even though I can see right through it. She walks to the chair across from me but doesn’t sit down.

“Forgive me,” I say as I stand up and bow before her. I’ll play her game. I love games. “I’m Nick.” I reach for her hand and kiss the top of her delicate skin.

Her eyelashes flutter as she glances at my lips on her flesh, and then suddenly snaps her hand from my grip. “Why would I be in danger?”

Her acting needs work. She knows exactly what I’m talking about. But again… I like games, so I’ll play along.

“There’s a bounty on your head. A very, very expensive one. Well done, my girl. The people you pissed off really want you dead.”

She takes a step back in her heels. Heels I’d love to see on each of my shoulders as I thrust my cock inside of her. Her shapely legs quiver, maybe threaten to buckle, but she recovers quickly. Her facial expression remains as cool and collected as when she first readied herself to face me. “And how would you know such a thing?”

She doesn’t lie to me and deny the information.

Good girl.

I detest liars.

“You know how, my girl. You know.”

Her chin lifts just a bit more, her eyebrow rises and the tiniest smirk surfaces on her pink lips. “Humor me and tell me how you know so much about me.”