Title Page

WICKED CLAIM

KAYE BLUE

Copyright

Wicked Claim. Copyright © 2022 by Kaye Blue

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to real people, locales, businesses, or events are unintentional. This work is intended for mature audiences only. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

CONTENTS

When I gave myself to the mafia…

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Kaye’s Newsletter

When I gave myself to the mafia…

WHEN I GAVE MYSELF TO THE MAFIA…

I swore I wouldn’t bend.

And I didn’t.

I broke.

Betrayed all I believed in.

For him.

Now he wants more.

He demands my hand in marriage.

Says it’s for my protection.

But I know the truth.

He won’t rest until he’s claimed me completely.

One

ONE

Elias

The stockyards.

That had to be the place.

My grip was so tight on the steering wheel, I worried I’d rip it off. I forced myself to relax my hands and for a moment allowed my mind to drift, tried to let the rotation of the tires soothe me.

As I drove, I looked at the scenery I had seen so many times before but never really noticed.

The trees in the median, the tall buildings in the distance.

I thought of Kayla and how much she loved to go to the roof of the tallest building she could find in a given city.

She didn’t know I knew that, but I’d followed her once.

It wasn’t uncommon for her to sneak off alone, and I’d wanted to know why. So I’d tailed her to downtown Toronto and followed her up to the top of the CN Tower.

She’d looked so peaceful, so serene as she’d stared out over the city. I’d wanted that for myself, the peace, the serenity that I knew she would bring.

Knew she would never give it to me and had been so angry at that realization, I’d wanted nothing more than to punish her.

I’d done just that, and over the next couple of months, I’d driven Kayla so relentlessly, I’d been sure she would leave.

Or try to, anyway.

Because I wouldn’t have let her go.

Wouldn’t let her go now, either.

And I would not, ever, ever, let her be harmed by the hands of another.

Which was why I had to put the panic, the fear of what my father might do, the question of what I might be forced to do aside and focus on getting her back.