UNEXPECTED DEVOTION

MINK

I’m the right-hand man to the rising star of the East Coast mafia. But he’s not the one who’s always had my allegiance. It’s Carina, his sister, the one woman who’s had my heart in a vise grip ever since she came back from school. But she’s off limits, and some lines, once crossed, can never be redrawn.

I tell myself to keep my distance, but the more she tempts me, the more I falter. Carina isn’t just beautiful, she has secrets, ones that bring danger to her doorstep. But I’ll never let anyone harm her, and when she’s threatened, i’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe and in my arms.

1

GILLY

She’s in the pool.

Not that I’m anywhere near her. I won’t allow myself to be. Not when she’s in a bikini and lounging in the sun like an indulgent–and fucking sexy–housecat.

“Gilly, are you even listening?” Antonio sighs.

“Of course.”

Butcher snorts.

“Shut up.” I roll my eyes at him. “You were saying my work on moving what’s left of the Larone holdings into our hands is going well except for a few disputes from the Corlettis.”

“Those pricks have zero claim on anything even remotely related to the Larone name.” Antonio shakes his head. “They just want trouble.”

“Let’s give it to them.” Butcher cracks his knuckles.

“Diplomacy first.” I’m the cautious one of the group, the most level-headed. At least I like to think so. But there’s one thing–one person–who gets under my skin and makes me anything but reasonable.

She’s in the pool. Maybe sunbathing in a chair, her bikini straps pulled down so she doesn’t get any tan lines on her smooth olive skin. My mouth waters.

“The Corlettis are the closest thing the Frangiones had to allies. They’re sore about how we handled those assholes.” I shrug. “The Corlettis would never dare challenge you to your face. Not after what happened with the Frangione heirs and Constantine Larone.” I glance at Butcher, a small, satisfied smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. We effectively destroyed the den of vipers known as the Frangione family. It only makes sense that the Corlettis are seeking to fill the void. “They’ve been using a light touch so far.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to give them anything.” Antonio glowers.

“Nothing of consequence, but we should always remember to throw the dogs some table scraps.” I think through the small list of Larone holdings. “Toss them the coke connection to South America through the Orlavs.”

Antonio’s face brightens a bit at that. “The operation you suspect has an FBI informant in it?”

I nod. “We’ll wash our hands of it entirely. Let the Corlettis deal with the Feds.”

“I hate giving them anything except a bullet,” Butcher says.

“This is worse than a bullet. The Feds will bleed them slowly.”

That makes Butcher smile. Of course it does.

“All right. Enough business.” Antonio waves us away. “I promised Angelica a nice dinner in the city this evening. I need to get ready.”

Butcher’s already moving to the door, as if he was simply waiting for the all clear so he could return to Bianca in their wing of the house. The love bug has bitten the Palermo family hard. First Antonio and now Butcher–two men who I never imagined would fall in love. But now they’re ruled by it, and I have to say I’m rather liking the change.

They hurry away to their respective wives as I glance toward the foyer. I should walk down the hall and out the front door. Maybe take a drive to the city or occupy myself with more work, balancing accounts, checking for any bullshit in the Larone books.

Instead, my feet carry me toward the back of the house. It’s dusk, the sun coating the trees and landscaping in a warm golden glow.

It coats her, too.

I stop, my breathing suddenly faster, my palms going sweaty, my cock getting achingly hard. She’s right where I knew she would be.

Why do I do this to myself? It’s fucking torture. That’s Butcher’s forte, not mine. But here I am, watching her through the window as she naps, her lithe body on display in a white bikini that leaves very little to the imagination. Not that I need it. I know every curve and dip of Carina’s body, every inch of her committed to memory. The way her pouty lips purse after she’s said something particularly sassy, the way she sways her hips when she walks, the scar on her left ankle from a bike accident when she was six, and a million other details that don’t escape my notice.

She shifts, her legs spreading the slightest bit, giving me a perfect view of the triangle of white fabric between her thighs. I move closer to the window, my eyes straining against the falling night. The outline of her pussy lips presses against the fabric, giving me a tantalizing view of her most intimate parts. Parts I want to worship with my tongue, my fingers, my cock. Parts I want to coat with my cum so everyone knows who she belongs to.

My heart hammers, my cock pressing against my pants as the reasonable, intelligent parts of my brain shut down. All I can see is her. All I want is her. How many times have I imagined taking her? Holding her down as she pants my name, giving her every inch of me until she shudders and gasps, pleasure overcoming even her sharp tongue. Fuck, I want it so badly that sometimes I wonder if I might lose my goddamn mind.

I should’ve left when I first realized I had feelings for her. That would’ve been the right thing to do. I should’ve told Antonio I was going out on my own, even if I wasn’t. I should’ve tried to be a good man and walk away from the one temptation that I have to fight every day to resist. But I didn’t. I’m committed to this family. More than that, I’m committed to Carina. If I walked away and something happened to her, I’d never forgive myself. I can’t have her, but I can’t leave her. I’m trapped, and maybe I want to be, if that’s what keeps me close to her.

You see, the love bug may have only recently bitten Antonio and Butcher, but it’s had its fangs in my heart from the first moment Carina Palermo returned from school.

She’s Antonio’s sister.

She’s only eighteen.

And she’s completely off limits.

2

CARINA

For the longest time, all I ever wanted was Gilly’s attention. Since I was a young girl, before my brother thought it was best to send me off to boarding school for not only my safety but to get the best education, I’d stare at the man like he’d strategically placed all the stars in the sky for me alone.

That was the thing about Gilly that always drew me to him. Most men can be a bit hot-tempered. But not him. He’s always so calm, cool, and collected. I found that calmness fascinating as a young girl.

Then I went away to school, and when I came back, my feelings for him started to change. Of course I’ve always thought him to be handsome, but that word doesn’t even do him justice now. The man is downright sexy. I guess something has changed for him too, because he does almost anything he can to avoid me when I’m home. I know I can be a bit much at times, but jeez, I’m a freaking Palermo. What does he expect?

But now he’s back to watching me, and I’m not sure why. If I had to guess, I would say it’s one of two things, the first one being the war that’s going on between my brother and the other families. It’s why I was pulled from school a month shy of graduation. The only other reason I could come up with is that he’s on to me. I don’t know how that would be possible, but I wouldn’t put it past him with the amount of resources he has.

I spent the afternoon by the pool getting some sun. I didn’t have to see Gilly to know he was there. Call me crazy–my friends do, anyway–but I could sense him. He was watching, and I was more than willing to give him a show of what he’ll never have.

After watching my brother and then the freaking Butcher fall madly in love and chase down their wives, I decided I would no longer beg for Gilly’s attention. In fact, at the moment I very much wish I didn’t have it at all.

My phone buzzes from under my pillow. I pretended to go to bed hours ago. I pull it out to see alerts from the BB group. My two best friends from prep school, both of whom are now enjoying summer break before they go off to college. One is headed to MIT, while the other will be going to CalTech.

I click into the program Magic made for the three of us to chat on. Most might think BB stands for Bad Bitches–which we are. Okay, maybe not Magic–she can be a softy–but really it’s the Bloody Badgers.

Ocean: These drones are so killer.

Magic: Do we have to call them killer?

Ocean: I can shoot shit with them. Why not?

Magic: The point was for them to be more eyes in the sky. Not actual weapons. That was just an added bonus.

Me: Well, sometimes you have to take a shot.

Ocean: Ahhhh! See.

Me: How is it going with the drone?

We swiped two over a week ago from Aztec Corp.

Magic: Oh, there is so much chatter about them being stolen right out from under their noses, but they’ll never find us. I might have sent them down another trail. One that leads to a dead end.

Me: Magic I love when you get devious.

It really was too easy for us to snatch the drones, or maybe I don’t give us enough credit. I can basically get in anywhere I want. My problem is I’m a bit messy. That’s where Magic comes in. The girl can clean up any trail I leave behind. As for Ocean, once she got her hands on the drones, she made her own little upgrades.

Ocean: I’m good to go. I’ve been playing with them all week. Magic and I tested them over some no fly zones, and she was able to keep me off their radar.

Magic: Of course I could. That shouldn’t even be a question.

Ocean: The real question is are you ready, Rebel?

Me: Always.

Ocean: All the way ready?

Me: Yes, Mom!

Magic: I really want to ask how you got your hands on dynamite so easily, but I’m not gonna.

Me: Me? Ask Ocean how she taught me to make a bomb in about three seconds.

Ocean: We all have our skills. Now let’s put them to use shall we?

Me: Going dark.

I send the message before I clear out the chat to slip from my bed. Normally I’d have Magic cover my trail from leaving the house, but I’ll have to deal with the fallout later once my brother or Gilly realizes I’ve snuck out and back in. I trust Ocean and Magic, but I don’t let anyone near the tech within our family home.

Plus, they might not notice. The house is still in a rebuilding phase after we got into a small war with another family. I’d been pissed at the time when my windows had gotten blown out, but now I’m rather thankful. I was here when it was put back together and the new alarm system put back on them.

I grab my black bag, slinging it on before I double check my 9mm. I slip it back into its holster under my hoodie and pull my gloves on. I’m going to need them–and not just for the fall.

I remind myself to give at the knees when I jump out the window from the second floor. I let the palms of my hands help brace me as I hit the ground. They also help me push off so I can take off at a dead run toward the trees.

When I get to the stone wall that lines our home, I scale it quickly, the gloves giving me the help I need and protecting my hands. Ocean was right about these things. As promised, I spot a car waiting for me a short distance away.

“Hey.” I knock on the window.

“Megan?” the man asks.

“Yeah.” He unlocks the door, and I slip into the back. “You already got the location?”

“Yep.” The Lyft driver takes off. I pull my phone back out.

Me: Megan? Really.

She was the biggest bitch at our prep school. Her father was a senator or some shit.

Magic: You got your ride. That’s all that matters.

I let out a breath and try to relax. Being on home lockdown has been hard for me. I got to finish school remotely, but idle hands and all. Sometimes I peek into the dark web. Okay, not just sometimes.

I’m really not one that should get to judge about the drug trade since my family's business includes a touch of it, but this is different. I’m not talking about your run-of-the-mill drugs. Sure, they do damage, but my focus is the creeps that produce ketamine and Rohypnol. I have a major problem with those. At least the reason these men are making it for. Their little lab is about to go up in flames.

“You sure this is where you want me to drop you?” the driver asks when we pull down into a warehouse district of town.

“Yep. There’s a rave nearby,” I lie as I get out.

“Where?” I hear him ask but keep walking, knowing Magic has paid the bill and cleared anything out that could trace any of us. I reach into my pocket and pull my ear piece out. The second it’s in place, Ocean’s voice is there.

“I see you,” she sing-songs.

I glance up and around, but I don’t see her. “I sure as fuck don’t see you.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Touché.” I walk quickly toward my target. “You got a scan?”

“Been watching all day. Thermal shows two men inside,” Ocean says as I slip my backpack off and pull out the small bombs she helped me make. I start to line them around the building one by one.

“Jarrod and Keaton?” I confirm. This was their little drug lab, after all.

“Yep, someone else showed up for about an hour, but they left. Had a hat on, and I couldn’t get a good enough scan of the face, so I don’t know who it was, but he’s not there now.”

“K,” I respond as I get back to work.

Magic is quiet, which isn’t surprising. As much as she wants to do this, I know she doesn't love the idea of anyone getting hurt. As for me, I don’t care if they both go up in flames, but I’ve lived a very different life than Magic. So has Ocean.

“Shit,” Ocean mutters as I set the last device. “We got a car. Same one from before. Oh God. He’s got a girl with him.”

I creep around to the front.

“She’s unconscious.” Magic finally speaks.

“What do we do?” Ocean asks.

“We might just find out who has better aim,” I tell her before I step out and pull my gun from the holster. Her drone can fire, but I have no clue how much she’s played with that feature. I don’t have any time to waste. I have to act now. I move quickly, stepping from the shadows and approaching the dickhead with the unconscious woman.

“Put her back in the car,” I order the man.

He freezes when he sees me. Not that there is a lot to see. I’m in all black with the hood of my hoodie pulled up to hide part of my face and hair. He stares at the gun but sizes me up. He knows I’m female and small.

I pull the gun off him and point it at the doorknob to the two-story warehouse and fire, hitting it before I swing it back toward him, letting him know I’ve got great aim.

“The fuck!” Ocean hisses, both of us knowing the two men inside would have heard that.

“Don’t make me tell you again.”

He steps back, placing the unconscious girl back into the vehicle.

“Close the door.”

He slams it shut. “Who are you?” he asks as I start to move around the back of the vehicle.

“Toss me the keys.” He does.

I snatch them from the air as the two asshats from the warehouse come peeking out the front door to see what’s going on. The wind blows, and my fucking hood falls back, but our eyes lock, and something about him is familiar.

“Who I am is the person saving your life,” I tell him before I fire one shot into his shoulder and a second into his outer thigh. He collapses to the ground as I run and jump into the car. He can’t chase me, but he also can't rush into that warehouse either. I floor it.

“What’s going on?” I ask Ocean.

“He’s lying on the ground. The dipshits have come out to help him.”

“I guess he saved their lives.” I sigh as I flip open the remote and push the button. The building blows. I watch in the rearview mirror as it goes up in flames.

“He might have saved their lives, but they’re not going to look pretty anymore.” Ocean chuckles.

“I guess I can cancel your pickup?” Magic chimes in.

“No, move it to Midwestern Hospital. I’m dropping this car there in the emergency bay with the girl.” I glance over at her. She can’t be but sixteen. I should have shot him in the head.

“Did you get a better image of his face?” I ask.

“I think. I’ll run it and see what I can find,” Ocean responds.

“There’s a gas station two blocks from the hospital. I'll have the car there,” Magic informs me. ”Lots of cameras at hospitals, Rebel.”

“Then do your magic.”

3

GILLY

There’s an itch at the back of my brain.

I’m trying to work through disentangling Larone assets so we can feed the Corlettis into the FBI’s machine via an informant, but when I should be examining shell companies and detangling corporate webs, my mind wanders. Back to her.

I glance at my door. Not that she’ll be coming through it. I’m at my office, the large pool house adjacent to the Palermo mansion. It serves as my home most of the time–my actual house a few miles from here, neglected for the most part.

The door doesn’t open. The itch in my brain only grows.

“What the fuck?” I slam my laptop closed and lean back, rubbing my temples as I glance at my watch. It’s after midnight. I could call it for the evening and go to bed. It might be wise, but I don’t feel like turning in. What I feel like doing is … It’s the one thing I can’t do. I can’t go to Carina.

It doesn’t matter that I imagine what her touch would feel like, how she’d moan as I made her writhe with my tongue, my fingers, my cock. None of that matters. Because she’s Antonio’s sister. Because she’s way too young for me. There are a million other reasons, too, mostly having to do with the fact that I live on the edge of a knife. Violence surrounds me. I may not relish it the way Butcher does, but I’m no stranger to it. I’ve taken lives. There’s blood on my hands, and that’s something I’d never want to taint Carina with.

She’s too young, too naïve to know about the hard truths of this world. She puts up a sassy front, but she doesn’t know how bad things can truly be. The bloodshed, the bullshit, the fucking dehumanization that occurs far too often. It’s better if she stays far away from it. And me.

I crack my neck, the itch in the back of my neck growing into a buzzing sensation, like bees are making a home in my cranium. That’s all I can take. I stand and stride to the door, yank it open, and stare across the lighted surface of the pool, up past the hedges around the first floor, and higher to a double set of windows that reflect the sliver moon.

Carina’s room.

It’s dark. As it should be. She should be asleep, dreaming of college and getting away from all the bad shit that comes with the Palermo family name.

Still, I stare. No, I don’t just stare. I want. I need. But my needs will always come second to hers. I made that choice long ago when I joined this family. And for her, I’ll make it again and again.

I move to close the door, but then I freeze.

A shadow is moving through the patch of apple trees about fifty yards away. The hair on the back of my neck rises, and I palm the pistol from the holster at my chest. What the fuck is this? Has our security been breached?

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