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 MERGER

KINGS OF THE BOARDROOM

BOOK 3

NANA MALONE

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 CONTENTS

Prologue
Chapter 1
Gwen
Chapter 2
Atticus
Chapter 3
Gwen
Chapter 4
Gwen
Chapter 5
Atticus
Chapter 6
Atticus
Chapter 7
Gwen
Chapter 8
Gwen
Chapter 9
Atticus
Chapter 10
Atticus
Chapter 11
Gwen
Chapter 12
Gwen
Chapter 13
Atticus
Chapter 14
Gwen
Chapter 15
Atticus
Chapter 16
Atticus
Chapter 17
Gwen
Chapter 18
Gwen
Chapter 19
Gwen
Chapter 20
Gwen
Chapter 21
Atticus
Chapter 22
Atticus
Chapter 23
Atticus
Chapter 24
Gwen
Chapter 25
Gwen
Chapter 26
Gwen
Chapter 27
Atticus
Chapter 28
Gwen
Chapter 29
Atticus
Chapter 30
Gwen
Chapter 31
Gwen
Chapter 32
Atticus
Chapter 33
Gwen
 Chapter 34
Gwen
Chapter 35
Atticus
Epilogue
Also from Nana Malone

Nana Malone Reading List

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 PROLOGUE
ATTICUS

N umbness .
It was like all color had been bleached from the world as I sat in the
white waiting room, staring at the white walls, glaring at the lifeless pastels
that were meant to be soothing but were just depressing.
She could not die. I had just gotten her back.
You might not be able to do anything about it.
Fuck it, why not? She had made me a promise. One I intended to make
her keep. She would not die on me.
There was movement at the door, and I looked up to see my brother
running in. Pierce was behind him, then Gavin and Rowan.
Their expressions were bleak. Each of them was pale, sweating, and
terrified.
I sat ramrod straight as I watched them, unable to move. Unable to
speak. Because if I did speak, if I spent any of the energy I was using to
lock everything down and focus all of my positive thoughts on Gwen and
her surgery, I would break. I would shatter into a billion little pieces and
wash away on the wind.
Micah came over first and clapped a hand on my shoulder, and I could
feel the weight of it pressing into me, trying to convey that Gwen and I
would be back together again.
 Gavin stood at my other shoulder. Rowan and Micah's shoulders
touched, and then Pierce closed the circle. None of them spoke, but they all
stood with me, covering me, giving me their strength.
When I could finally drag in a breath, I turned my attention to Pierce.
He knew what I was asking without me even having to say a word.
"He's in custody. He wasn’t the shooter, but I wouldn't put it past him to
have paid someone."
"So there's a chance that it was a hit?"
He shook his head. "There’s always a chance, but I don't know anything
for sure. Right now, I'm here for Gwen."
There was more movement at the door, and I looked over, expecting to
see the doctor. Instead, it was Lakewood.
Our gazes met and held. And then we both took a long breath.
In that moment, I could let go of the fact that he had wanted my wife,
the fact that he loved her.
I felt nothing other than camaraderie with him, and if he could lend his
energy or prayers or any of that voodoo bullshit to making her better, I
knew I’d take it. Fuck, at that point, I’d have taken wishes on the stars if he
had any.
I would have taken it all and given it to her. I’d happily forfeit my life
for hers if it meant she would just wake up.
Lakewood said nothing. He just came over to the circle. Pierce and
Rowan made a space for him, and he stood with us.
He glanced around and finally spoke softly. "I called her family.
Morgan's on the way. Clarissa too. I couldn't reach Becker."
Just hearing her father's name made me grind my teeth. I lifted my gaze
to Pierce. "It couldn't have been him?"
Pierce's brow furrowed. "It wouldn't make any fucking sense. You
already took care of his debts. Anyone who was after him wouldn't need to
send a message."
 Rowan shifted on his feet. "The other concern is Jacobson. He is willing
and able, and he’s pissed off enough."
"Do we have eyes on him?" I asked.
This time, it was Lance who spoke up. "Yeah. I may or may not have
called in a drunk driver alert on him. The cops have him too."
My brows lifted, and I assessed Lakewood again. He did love Gwen. He
had conceded defeat, but he loved her enough to take care of her,
regardless.
He's a better man than you are.
He was. But he had the ability to love her from afar. I would never give
her up. Even if she hadn't chosen me, I would have stolen her and kept her
until she'd changed her mind.
Better to know thyself.
"What made you think to do that?"
Lakewood shrugged. "I figured he got the news of the wedding about
the same time everyone else did, and I knew wherever he was, he was
probably drinking. So I just called in his car tags. He'll be occupied for a
while. And if he did this, I'm hoping he hasn't had the chance to remove any
evidence yet."
I nodded at him. "Smart thinking."
He shrugged. "Whatever it takes to take care of her."
These were my men. Even Lakewood. They were willing to do anything
to protect her as well.
And in that moment, knowing I was surrounded by five other men who
would lay down their lives for Gwen, I finally let myself break. My
shoulders sagged, and the weight of the grief crushed me where I sat.
The first tear, salty and acrid, hit my lip, and I didn't even notice it. All I
could do was drop my head into my hands and weep. What would I do if I
lost her?
Who would I kill?
 What scorch mark would I leave on this planet if someone took her
from me?
An indelible one, that was for sure. Because I was nothing without her.
And she could not die and leave me. I wouldn't let her.
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 1
GWEN

M y mouth tasted and felt like someone had peed in sawdust and then
packed it into my mouth.
And someone else was playing annoying bagpipes very loudly in short
staccato beats. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Christ, why was it so loud? And I was cold. So cold.
There was a heat source nearby that came and went, and each time it
came close, I tried with Herculean effort to reach for it. To hold on to it. It
was back now. The heat climbing up my arm. Beautiful and sweet and
perfect. Just what I needed to chase away the chill.
There was a rumble. "Gwen, you can do it, baby. Come on, Ness. Show
me what a strong lioness you are. Open your eyes, love."
The voice sounded far away and gravelly, low-pitched. I had to strain to
hear it. "That's a good girl, Ness."
The sound reminded me of Atticus. I wanted to smile, but something
was in my way. I couldn't move my face.
The warmth was there, joined by another source of warmth. Higher up.
Coming from my shoulder. Oh, yes. If I could just cocoon in this, I would
be so warm and happy, and I’d never have to be chilly again.
"Do it, Gwen. Open your damn eyes."
I tried to frown at that. It did sound like Atticus. Why was he always so
bossy?
I tried to listen to him, to move my eyelids, but God, they were heavy.
Like someone had taped them shut and then placed sand bags over them.
I tried again. And that warmth, it kept spreading. It was pulsing in my
hand. What was that?
"That's it, baby. Try for me."
I managed to peel one eyelid open, but the blinding light made me
cringe and shut it again, trying to back away.
"Turn off the fucking lights."
I frowned. That was Atticus. Wasn't it? Why was he so far away? I
wanted him closer. Much, much closer. He would be warm. God, all I
wanted to do was climb in Atticus's arms and have him hold me, and kiss
me, and continue what we'd started in the limo.
Limo?
My brain tried to hold on to the fleeting thought of something that had
happened in the limo.
What had happened in the limo?
Suddenly, I was cold again. Freezing. I tried to reach for the warmth,
but the beeps were louder now. Much louder. Faster too. Beep, beep, beep,
beep.
I tried again to open my eyes, and this time the blinding light didn't
assail me. It was a softer, more muted light, and I blinked.
A stark wintergreen gaze met mine, and my heart squeezed.
Atticus.
"Thank fuck, Ness. Hi."
I tried to use my mouth. Honestly, I did. But it was packed with... Why
would someone put sawdust in my mouth? Sawdust was gross, inefficient,
and disgusting. But I couldn't talk.
"Can someone get that stuff out of her mouth?"
And then I realized it wasn't sawdust. It was gauze.
Someone else came. A girl. A woman. How old was she? She couldn't
be much older than Morgan. She peeled something off my lips, and I
thought she was going to take my skin with it. Ouch.
When she pulled it out, my mouth was free.
"Atticus?" I croaked.
"Yes, baby. I'm right here. I'm right here."
My voice didn't work. It was dry and scratchy and ineffectual. I glanced
around, worry settling in my veins, telling me something wasn't right.
Something beeped again, and my gaze skittered to it. It was some kind
of machine that was showing green beeps going up and down, up and down,
and⁠—
That was a monitor. And I thought the sounds were my heart rate.
I was in the hospital.
And that was when it all came crashing down. I was in the damn
hospital.
What had happened? What hospital? Morgan?
No. You. You are in the hospital.
I was in the hospital. Okay. The monitor was for me. What had
happened?
My scrambled brain tried to piece together what was going on and how
I'd gotten here, and the confusion worried me as my mind tried to figure out
what I was doing in a hospital bed.
Atticus was back, holding my hand. "There was an accident, Gwen."
I frowned. "Accident?" I remembered us being in the car. We were
leaving the board meeting. Atticus had given me all his shares of
Pendragon. I owned it all.
 My eyes went to his as I frowned, and he stroked his thumb over my
knuckles. "It's okay. You're okay. I've got you. Do you remember anything?"
I thought again. He gave me his shares of Pendragon, and then we'd
headed home. In the limo, we'd had sex.
I started to smile at that. And then something else pricked my memory,
but…
It was blank. All blank. I shook my head.
He nodded. "That's okay. The doctor said that you might not remember
the incident."
"Incident?" I grunted through the dryness of my mouth.
He reached for the table beside my bed and brought me a cup with a
straw in it, placing it gently at my lips. I took a quick sip, the cool liquid
almost too much, and it backed up as I tried to swallow. Finally, the cold
splash hit my gut, making it cramp, and I winced. He put the cup back on
the table and sat next to me on my bed.
"Yeah, an incident. We were getting out of the limo in front of the
penthouse, and then someone…"
His voice trailed.
I waited because I didn't know why he looked so sad.
"Someone shot you."
I could only blink at him slowly as my brain tried to compute the words.
"Shot me?"
"Yeah. Outside of the building. You were shot in your left shoulder. You
lost a lot of blood before we were able to clear the scene and get you in the
ambulance."
I started to blink rapidly then, trying to compute what he was saying.
The sudden wash of fear and terror was like icy water being poured directly
into my veins with the ice chips still intact.
He kept smoothing his thumb over my knuckles. "You're okay, Ness.
Considering how many bullets were fired, the only one that was really bad
was the one in your shoulder. But other than that, nothing major was hit. We
got really lucky."
"Someone shot me?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah, baby. Someone shot you."
"But why?"
"That, love, is what we're going to try and figure out. But right now, you
don't have to do anything except get better. I will make sure you get better."
I watched him. His gaze was so intense on mine. It was only then that I
noticed the dark shadows under his eyes. The lines around his mouth. He
was still handsome. Gorgeous. Imposing. But he looked like a shell of
himself.
"How long have I been here?"
He licked his lips nervously. "A week."
I tried to sit up then, and he put his gentle hand on my shoulder. "No,
don't move. You came out of the surgery, but then you weren't waking up.
The doc said you might just need time to heal. Which, I think you did."
"But why would anyone shoot me?"
"Like I said, I'll figure it out. And when I do, I'm going to make them
regret ever touching you. Every last one of them."
When my gaze lifted to his and I saw the grief and terror there, I knew
he was serious. He wouldn't rest until he had personally made them pay.
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 2
ATTICUS

T omorrow .
Gwen was coming home tomorrow. Finally.
Two weeks in the hospital, and she was finally coming home. I had tried
to get the surgeon to hold her longer, but he said there was no reason to
keep her once she’d woken up and her incisions appeared to be healing. The
surgery had gone well. She would need to wear a sling for a while then do
some physical therapy, but she would be fine.
As if fine was good enough for Gwen. If she wasn't fully thriving, I was
going to fucking kill someone.
I left her at the hospital with Clarissa and Morgan for a quick visit while
I met with the boys. When I marched into La Table Ronde, I saw my
brother first at our usual table. When his gaze lifted to meet mine, I saw a
mirror of my own face. He also looked haggard and tired. The circles under
his green eyes were dark and heavy. He wasn’t sleeping either.
Good. None of us were going to sleep until we found out what the fuck
had gone wrong. We'd been so sure, so certain, that we'd done everything
right, only to face fucking gunfire right outside our door.
 When my eyes shifted from Micah, I saw the other lads were there.
Pierce, Rowan, Gavin. And then a surprise edition… Lakewood.
I seriously hated him a lot less these days. Clearly, I was going soft.
When I got to the table, I addressed him first. "Aren't you supposed to be in
London?"
As they all stood and shook my hand, Lakewood gave me a smirk.
"Well, it seems my boss left me an opening. I can set my own schedule, and
I can work remotely. He didn't think about that little loophole when he sent
me an ocean away."
I scowled. "Noted. Next time he shall be more clear in his directive."
Lakewood knew that right now, while Gwen needed him, I wouldn't
send him anywhere. The more bodies I could have on her, the better.
I took my seat and glanced around at everyone. We were tucked in the
corner of the restaurant, but we could still hear diners enjoying their lunches
as if all was right in the world. As if less than two weeks ago, someone
hadn't tried to take my reason for existing away from me.
Micah rolled his shoulders and eyed me intently. "What's the move?"
"From the minute she leaves that hospital tomorrow, she is never alone.
I want all of us on her so tight that you fuckers will be able to see my
handprint on her ass. Do I make myself clear?"
Pierce's brows lifted. "I sent you the new security plan. The guys will be
done with the penthouse and the new biometric panel today. They already
finished setting it up. All you have to do is get her to pick her new
passcode."
"And it’s set with the biometrics?"
He nodded. "For everyone on the approved list."
We’d fucked up somewhere. We’d only had our eyes on Dad, and at the
time Gwen was shot, he was in fucking custody. To our knowledge, he
didn't have time to make any calls as we’d ambushed him with the marriage
news. So we needed to go back to our original assumption that he was the
one behind everything and figure out where the fuck we went wrong.
Pierce continued. "In the meantime, she'll have round the clock guards
in a three-man rotation, one outside the building, two on the door, always."
I turned to glower at my friend. "Make it five."
Pierce lifted his brow. "Are you serious? That means taking at least one
off your mother for the time being."
Was he giving me excuses? I stared him down, and he put up his hands.
"Okay, I hear you. I'll make it work. I need to hire some more men. Micah,
I'll need your help for background checks."
Micah nodded at him. "You've got it." He was watching me as if he
wanted to say something. As if he had a judgment up his sleeve.
Rowan sat forward on his seat. "On my end, as soon as she is able and
mobile, I'm going to get her started on protection training. I'll run the basics.
Anti-kidnapping, self-defense, basic weaponry."
I nodded my thanks.
Lakewood shrugged. "Right, since she is just as good a hacker as I am, I
have no skills to offer her other than keeping her mind off everything.
Particularly, you not giving her any breathing room."
I scowled at him. "If you don't like it, you can leave."
His gaze narrowed imperceptibly, and he leaned back in his seat, an
insolent smile playing on his lips. "Oh no, it’s going to be fun watching
your self-destruction. Has it entered your mind that maybe you should talk
to her? You know Gwen is not going to want all of this."
Was he daring to tell me what my wife would want? Did he think he
knew her better than I did? Did he really fucking think that he had a direct
link to her heart? She wasn't going to enjoy it, but she'd understand. She
would know that I needed to do this. That I needed to keep her safe. She'd
get it.
 "Well, the next time she's in your bed, you can ask her." Instantly, I
realized what I had said. My own actions had shoved her into his bed just a
few weeks ago.
His response was an evil grin. "You fuck this up, and she'll be right back
there."
My brother placed a hand on my chest before I could launch myself
over the table and punch him like I wanted to. "Lance, shut it." Micah
turned to me then, his hand pressed firmly on my chest. "Lakewood is an
ass. Ignore him. But… He may or may not have a point here. Look, there
isn't a single one of us that wouldn't go to war with you. Whatever you
need, if you ask it, we’ll do it. Gwen is family."
"She's not family, you idiot. She is a queen. The crown-fucking-jewel. I
almost lost her two weeks ago because we all got lazy. She is literally
everything. If I lose her—" I worked hard to quell the shiver that traveled
up my back. "So we're not losing her. I am not losing her. Do you
understand?"
Micah nodded slowly. "I hear you, and I get it, but Lakewood’s right. If
you don't give that woman some breathing room, she's going to resent it.
You know what happens when you decide things without talking to her."
Low blow.
"That won't be a problem anymore. She has me over a barrel. She has
all my Pendragon shares. I'm just the little CEO. She'll understand that this
is necessary. This is important."
My brother shrugged. "She might. Or she'll feel like a prisoner. So
maybe just talk to her. Don't change her safety protocols without telling her
first. You'll probably find that she agrees with half of them anyway. Want as
I am to agree with anything Lakewood says, she's probably going to hate
this.”
"It's for her own good."
 As I gave out more marching orders, I ran through some of the changes
at work that would happen at Pendragon with Micah and Lakewood. I
might as well put him to work if he refuses to go back to London. But part
of me couldn't help but wonder if the two of them were right.
Would she understand?
She had to. She would have to see that I was only trying to keep her
safe. Without her, I was nothing. I had to protect her with everything I had. I
could not lose her again.
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 3
GWEN

A tticus was hovering .

Doesn't he have the right to hover?
Okay, fine. Admittedly, I’d been shot. And we still didn't know who’d
done it. So there was that. But this constant watchfulness, as if I was going
to shatter like glass at any moment, had to stop.
The problem was he wasn't talking to me. I tried bringing it up at the
hospital yesterday, but he just told me not to worry about anything and to
rest. That I could think about all these difficult things after I rested. What
the hell did that mean? I had done nothing but rest and stare at the ceiling of
my stupid hospital room for two weeks.
When I’d tried to use my laptop the other day, he'd just taken it out of
my hands and told me that I didn't need to worry myself about any of it. If
my dear husband was not careful, I was going to whack him on the head
with said laptop.
The worse part was when I told him my nefarious plan to whack him
over the head. Instead of calling me a violent little thing like he normally
would have, he just kissed me on the forehead and patted my hand. Like I
was a child who didn't know what I was saying.
Well, he would certainly know what I was saying when I actually did it.
Now all I needed to do was find out where he'd hidden the laptop.
Our door staff at the penthouse was discreet. All Manny did was give
me a soft smile and say, “Welcome back, Mrs. Price.”
I considered it for a moment. I hadn't even really had the opportunity to
enjoy being called Mrs. Price. We'd been hiding our marital status when we
got back from the Winston Isles. We'd only announced it the day I got shot.
I'd never been that girl who wanted to change my name and do all the
bride things, but there was something nice about saying that I belonged to
someone and he belonged to me.
Though before I filed any paperwork, I needed to make sure I wasn't
going to super-hyphenate my name. Gwenyth Christin-Becker-Price. That
was too much. I didn't want to completely lose myself just because I was
married to one of the world's most powerful men.
But you are one of the world's most powerful women now. You hold a
tech conglomerate in your hands. You have all the shares.
Shit.
That was right. All of Atticus’s Pendragon shares were now mine. Just
thinking about the sheer number of them made me feel powerful as hell.
But maybe, just maybe, I might be able to use some of that as leverage to
get my husband to back the fuck off.
"Are you okay? Are you tired? Do you want me to carry you?"
We stepped in the elevator, and I slid him a withering glare. "If you pick
me up, I swear before God that only one of us will be walking into the
penthouse in a few minutes. And despite what you think, it will not be you."
He pressed his lips together. Gone was the humor that would have
lightened the mood. There was no teasing like before when he would have
said, “We’ll see about that,” or something else that made me giggle.
 "You know I'll be okay, right?" I asked.
"Of course, you just need to heal up."
I glowered down at my sling. "I don't have to wear this thing all the
time. The surgery scar is healing well. And honestly, you and I both know
that I'm fine. The bullet didn't hit anything vital. The only thing that was
scary was the blood loss and possibility of sepsis. And that's already taken
care of. Please chill out, okay?"
He didn't say anything. And I was surprised when we reached our floor
and there was another door.
"What the hell is this?"
"Additional security. Give me your palm."
I lifted my brow. I was so shocked I couldn't move as Atticus took my
left hand, planted it on the panel, and typed in a few things to lock it in.
"Now you're approved. Only you. Anyone else will have to get buzzed up
and ring the doorbell."
I blinked slowly. "Well, it's not like they can access the penthouse
elevator without a key anyway."
He shrugged. "Just in case."
When we stepped in the foyer, we were greeted by the scent of spices
and food cooking, and I swear to God I would have kissed Magda on the
mouth if she’d been standing right there.
"Oh my God. Is that bread? I would kill for fresh-baked bread. Wow,
this is great."
His smile was brief as he nodded toward what looked like a new
security panel.
"This is the new panel?" I asked.
"There's a new manual too. You will need to read it.”
"Why do we need a new security panel? Wasn't the other one state of the
art?"
 "Yes, but this one is better. Come here. If you put your chin right there
and—" He cut himself off as he pressed a couple of buttons on the side and
indicated that I should put my chin in the little tray and look directly at the
light. "Perfect. Now we have your handprint, fingerprint, and eye scan. And
you see the monitor here? You'll be able to see who's downstairs in the
lobby and know who’s in the stairwells."
He flicked through the images quickly, showing me. "And you'll also be
able to see anyone from the panic room.”
I blinked at him slowly. "Uh, there's a panic room now? I have only
been gone two weeks, or did you put this in while we were in the Winston
Isles?"
"If you pay enough money and tell them that they don't have to be
concerned about any noise complaints, anything can be done in two weeks.”
Looking on the monitor, I took in the size of the panic room. “That’s a
whole full-sized room."
He nodded. "Well, I took part of the study, part of the library, and that
fifth bathroom. We didn't need it."
I stared at him in disbelief. "You took part of the library?"
"Yes. It made the most sense for the space."
My heart squeezed. This didn't feel like my Atticus. This was cold,
calculated Atticus. The one who would do the important thing, but not
necessarily the one that would make anyone happy.
"I'm really grateful, Atticus. I am. And I love that you love me enough
to do all of this for me. I appreciate it. I really do."
His back went ramrod straight. "Yes, but?"
I winced. "No but. It's just… You and Micah and I all loved that library.
It's just a shame to see some of that go."
"Don't worry. I'll buy you a library if that's what you want." Then he
marched from the foyer, leaving me and taking my bags with him. I had no
choice but to follow. But something was off. Where was the Atticus who
had been laughing with me, holding me, and making me comfortable?
Where had he gone?
When I rounded the corner, I heard voices and gasped in surprise as I
saw Clarissa and Morgan on the couch. "Oh my gosh, what are you guys
doing here?"
Morgan jumped up and bounded over to me, but Atticus stopped her
right before she reached me, and he frowned. "You have to be careful with
her, Morgan. You can't jostle her too much, remember?"
Morgan winced in contrition. "Fuck, I'm so sorry. It's just so great to see
you walking around instead of lying down. You look so good."
"You're a liar,” I teased. “But I am happy to be home."
Atticus was watching me and apparently felt the need to chime in.
"You're always beautiful, Gwen."
"Yes, well, you're my husband. You are legally obligated to say that."
Again, no real smile. Not even the ghost of one that I was more familiar
with.
Clarissa came over and hugged me gently. "Morgan and I have been
baking since we saw you in the hospital a couple of days ago. There is
bread galore. I know that's what you like to eat when you’re feeling sad, so
there are some baguettes and a few croissants for you. We just wanted to see
you. I know that you and Atticus probably want to get re-acquainted with
your home."
Morgan whined. "But I don't want to leave. I want to use the sauna."
Atticus nodded at her. "Of course, you can use it."
Clarissa shook her head. "We appreciate it, but we’re going. Come on,
Morgan. We just wanted to see that your sister got home okay."
I took both their hands. "We didn't even get to visit."
Clarissa set her gaze over at Atticus and shook her head. "Something
tells me that the two of you need a little alone time, okay? We'll come see
you later this week. We will do Friday dinner here instead of at the house."
 Atticus interjected, "Yes, that's better. I wouldn't have let her come to
the house."
Again, not kidding. He was deadly serious. What was wrong with him?
And who the hell had replaced my husband with a robot? I got that maybe
he was scared for me, or worried. But this was something different. This
wasn't him. And if he kept this behavior up, we were going to have a real
problem on our hands.
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 4
GWEN

W hen C larissa and Morgan were gone, Atticus seemed to relax slightly.
The frigid temperature of his soul warmed up by several degrees. But it
seemed to stop and hover much lower than normal, never fully warming to
a blast furnace like I was used to. He insisted that I be seated in the living
room on the couch, and he brought me a tray. There was soup on it, and
bread, and my favorite ginger beer. "Well, now you're just spoiling me."
"You should be spoiled."
"Where's Magda? I expected her to be here, mother-henning me."
He frowned. "You don't need Magda to mother-hen you. I'm perfectly
capable."
I shrugged. "Okay, I'm just making conversation. What is wrong with
you? You're acting weird."
"I'm not acting weird. This is me, a man who had to watch his wife get
shot two weeks ago. And now she's home and insisting on working and
doing things for herself. So you can understand how I'm not feeling like
myself, right?"
I sighed. "Baby, I'm okay. I didn't mean to scare you."
 The lines on his brow only deepened. "You didn't mean to? It wasn't
your fault, Gwen. It was mine. We were so busy trying to prove what my
father had done that we didn't see how dangerous he really was, or we
didn’t see the fact that there was another danger entirely. That's on me. We
didn't even look for another suspect. We just narrowed in, and I almost got
you killed. I⁠—"
For the first time in two weeks, I saw him break again, finally allowing
himself to be vulnerable with me. I tried to adjust the tray with one arm, and
he quickly moved it to the coffee table for me. "What do you need, Gwen?"
"I need this." Awkwardly, I climbed into his lap and tucked myself in,
burrowing my face into his chest. I inhaled deeply, letting his scent wrap
around me and warm me up even more as I nuzzled in.
"Atticus, I can't even imagine what you went through, knowing I'd been
hurt. And I can see how that would make you wary."
"I'm not wary, Gwen. I'm incensed. Because I fucked up. My wife
almost died."
"Excuse me, Mr. Price, but I think there is enough blame to go around.
We all were looking elsewhere. And for all we know, your father hired
someone to do the shooting. So before we go jumping to conclusions and
all that, let's think for a minute, okay?"
"Think? What do you think I've been doing for two weeks? I'm trying to
figure out how to wrap you in a bubble and how to get him to confess what
he knows. Trying to make it safe for you. I've been thinking."
I could tell he couldn't understand me right now. He was still too
wrapped up in his grief. "Okay, I hear you. Why don't we go to bed?"
He nodded and helped me up. Earlier, he'd put my bags in our room. I
hadn't even stepped foot in there yet. I quickly got ready for bed with some
assistance. I would be glad when I no longer needed his help for that. But
the maneuvering of my bra one handed was still not quite manageable.
Maybe I would just go braless from now on.
 You still have to go to the office, so you’d better not.
Yeah. Not the brightest idea.
When I climbed into bed, Atticus helped me onto my side. "Why aren't
you ready for bed yet?" I asked when I noticed he hadn’t undressed.
"I have some things that I need to look over in the study. But I’ll be
close by if you need me. I’d work in here, but it feels creepy to watch you
sleep."
"Don’t you watch me sleep anyway?"
And there it was, his little hidden smile. The one he saved for me. Why
had it taken so long to find him?
When he tucked me in, he leaned in close, and I tilted my lips up for a
kiss. But instead, his hands planted on my cheeks ever so gently and guided
my head down so he could kiss my forehead.
What the hell?
"Atticus? What, you're not kissing me now?"
His gaze shifted to my lips. "I did kiss you."
I considered him for a long moment. "Actually, no, you didn't. And you
haven’t. Not since I've been home. We've been here for hours, and not once
have you pressed your lips to mine."
He frowned. "Of course I have."
Bullshit. "Don't you gaslight me. You haven't. And what the hell is up?"
He frowned. "Nothing is up. You want a kiss? Here's a kiss." He leaned
in, his body rigid, as if I was going to accept that as a kiss. I turned my
head. "No. Where's my real kiss? You know, the one where you missed me
and only had your hand for companionship for the last couple of weeks? I
feel like we were supposed to get started on christening the whole house.
What happened to that?"
He stared at me like I'd lost my head and replaced it with two strange
ones. "Are you insane? You're hurt."
 He had to be kidding. "Yes, my shoulder is hurt. But I am horny. Why
aren't you doing something about that?"
He pressed his lips together firmly. "We can't. Not until you’ve healed
up. The way I want you⁠—"
There he was. In that moment, I could see the Atticus I was used to. The
one who was obsessed with me. The one who, at any given moment, would
drop to his knees, just for the pleasure of eating me. The one who fucked
me so good in the back of the car that I'd seen stars. He was in there, so why
wasn't he coming out to play?
"What's going on?” I asked. “I know you want me. I can see it. It's right
there."
He swallowed hard and looked away. "That's no secret. I always want
you. Right now, I need to do what’s best for you, which is for you to get
some sleep. I'll check on you before I go to bed."
Frustrated and well… horny, I eased back on my satin pillowcase. I
couldn't believe it. "Fine, I guess, but—" It took me a moment to filter
through what he'd said. He would look in on me. Which meant he wasn't
planning on sleeping here. "Where the hell are you going to be sleeping?"
"Next door."
I blinked at him. And then I slowed down that blink, so he would get the
point. "That's pure insanity. Why?"
"Jesus, Gwen, why are you being like this? This is for you. You'll get
better rest without me here. You won't be tempted to starfish and roll around
onto your shoulder. This is for the best."
"Who decided that though? And hello, your wife just said she is horny.
The husband I know would have immediately dropped to his knees, bent
my legs into a pretzel, and eaten me for an hour. What is going on?"
His gaze flickered to my lips again. "So let me get this straight; you
want me to service you?"
 That fun playful part of me inside prickled slightly. Why was he being
like this? "No, I'm not demanding that you service me. I just want to be
with my husband. You know, the man I married. The man who loves me,
and I love him."
"I'm just trying to do right by you. And right now, that means giving you
space and time to heal before… How did you say it? Before I bend you like
a pretzel." He pushed to his feet.
"So, is that like ever coming back on the table? The whole pretzel
thing?"
He didn't bother to answer me. Instead, he quietly walked out of our
room to go and sleep somewhere else.
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 5
ATTICUS

"F ucking take it . You are such a good wife, taking my big cock all the way
down your throat."
I wound my fingers into my wife's hair and tugged savagely, angling her
head to take my cock all the way down and hit the back of her throat. When
it did, she lifted her eyes. Her glittering gaze met mine and my control
snapped as I started to fuck to her face. She took it, moaning around the
length of my⁠—"
"Atticus, oh my God, Atticus."
Gwen’s wrenching scream jolted me out of bed, and I growled when I
shoved the sheets off and saw the state of my cock.
It didn't deter me that my dick was still raging. I ran quickly toward her
room and shoved open the door to find her thrashing in bed. I ran to the side
of the bed and placed my hand on her good shoulder gently. "Gwen, baby.
Open your eyes. It's me. It's me, Atticus. Open your eyes. You’re safe. I'm
here. I'm here, baby. I'm here."
When her eyes cracked open, she gasped, dragging in air raggedly
through her lungs. "Oh my God. Oh my God."
 I checked her sling first. It was still in place. "You’re okay, baby. What
is it? Did you hit your shoulder? Are you in pain?"
She frowned as if getting her bearings, trying to figure out what was
going on herself. "I-I dreamed you weren't… I needed you, and you weren't
there. I don't… I don't know."
My heart that had been galloping out of my chest started to steady once
again. "It was just a dream. I'm always here when you need me. See, I'm
right here."
I lifted her good arm and placed her hand on my chest. "See? I'm right
here. I'm right where you need me."
"I was so scared. You weren't here, and I needed you, and⁠—"
I tugged her close, lifting her gently and being careful of her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, babe. I'm here. See?"
Gwen fisted her hand in my T-shirt. "Please don't leave me. Can you
hold me for a while?"
Hold her? In bed? After the dream I had just woken up from? My cock
throbbed in my pajama bottoms. With her, I didn't need to wear them. At
least we'd gotten over that habit. But I'd taken to wearing them again, just in
case.
"That's not a good idea, Ness. But look, I'll be right here until you go
back to sleep."
She whined. "I'm telling you I need you, and you’re telling me not right
now. What is going on, Atticus?"
She drew her hand down over my chest, and I swear before God, I could
not have held back the shudder that racked through my body in that
moment.
"Don't you want me anymore? Did me getting shot change something?"
"Of course not,” I groaned. “I’ll always want you.”
Her hand spread out all over my chest and down my abdomen. Just as
she was about to wrap her hand around my cock, I stopped her with my
other hand. "Uh, that's not a good idea."
"What are you talking about, Atticus? You're hard. You're very, very
hard. I can see for myself. Why won't you let me touch you?"
Fuck, this was torture. I was not strong enough to hold out. This had
been a bad idea. I should have taken her back to her old apartment. Or
anywhere I didn't have to sleep next to her, trying not to touch her. That had
never been anything I even considered.
"Gwen, be reasonable. I'm here. But until you're healed up, this is not
what we're doing. I don't want to risk hurting you. It would kill me, darling.
Do you understand?"
"No, I don’t understand. You're pushing me away, and I don't know
what to do.”
“Gwen,” I muttered through clenched teeth. Christ, all I wanted to do
was hold her. All I wanted was her in my arms. But if I did, I could lose
control, hurt her in my sleep. And fuck me, if I touched her how I wanted
to, how she was asking me to…
No. That wasn’t what she needed right now. She needed rest and
tenderness. Not the dicking down she thought she wanted. I wasn’t great at
being tender, but I could at least take care of her. Show her that I deserved
to take care of her… even though I’d fucked up. I had to keep myself out of
her bed, or I was going to ruin everything.
But she didn’t see it my way. “So, you're not going to even touch me?"
I shook my head. "No. I'm not. You need to get a clean bill of health
before we resume any physical activities."
Her gaze slid over me and straight down to my cock. Asshole soldier
that he was, he saluted her. Because he didn't give two fucks about her
shoulder. He hadn't been scared half to death. Only that he had to be stuck
with me for the rest of his miserable life.
"Are you sure this isn’t… Have your feelings— changed?"
 I stared at her for a long moment. What the fuck did she mean? The
answer was in the way she bit her bottom lip. The uncertainty in her gaze.
Oh, for fuck's sake. She thought I didn't want her?
I planted both hands on her cheeks. "Gwen, I don't think you understand
the depths to which I want you. If you did understand, you would probably
run for your life. You are everything. You always have been. So, let's go
ahead and pretend you didn't say some utterly insane shit and get you back
to sleep so you can heal."
She seemed to buy it. Nodding against my hold. This time, I gave in a
little bit and planted a soft kiss on her lips. And the electric spark of need
tried to claw its way out of my chest.
And that is why we don't kiss the wife we crave. Because this shit is not
what she needs.
Fucking hell. I had to force myself to pull back. "This has nothing to do
with not wanting you. I'm trying to keep you safe."
"Were you going to ask if I want to be kept safe from you, or were you
just going to decide?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes we don't know what's good for us. I think this
might be one of those cases."
I sat with her until she fell asleep again, all the while thinking of all the
ways I could calm down my raging dick. I'd been without her for two
weeks. I had bargained with every god I could think of just to let her live.
I’d made a million deals with the devil just to keep her safe. And now,
she wanted to tempt fate? There was absolutely no way I was doing that. If I
touched her, I wouldn't have the control I needed, and that would hurt her
more. The way I saw it, I had already done enough damage.
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 6
ATTICUS

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Gwen as she fumbled with a bottle
of nail polish. Her arm was wrapped in her sling, and she was trying to
balance the tiny brush between her fingers, but it was clear she was
struggling. I watched her for a moment longer, torn between stepping in to
help and giving her the space she seemed to crave. Finally, I cleared my
throat.
"What are you doing?" My voice came out rougher than I intended, but
I couldn't help it. Every time I looked at her, all I could see was the moment
she got shot, the blood, the panic.
Gwen glanced up at me and smiled, though I could tell it was forced.
"I'm trying to paint my toenails," she said sweetly, like it was the most
normal thing in the world. "I thought it might help me feel a bit more like
myself."
The pang of guilt ripped through me. She was trying so hard to hold
onto some semblance of normalcy, and here I was, hovering over her like a
goddamn helicopter. I had been doing that a lot lately. Hovering, watching,
waiting for something else to go wrong. I wanted to say something
reassuring, but all I could think about was how close I came to losing her.
"We can call someone to do that for you," I offered, my tone more
practical than comforting. It was an easy solution. Hire someone. Delegate
the task. Keep her safe. But Gwen just shook her head, her smile fading
slightly.
"With the security concerns, I assumed you didn't trust anyone," she
said quietly.
Fuck.
She was right. I didn't trust anyone. Not after what happened. I was
paranoid, constantly on edge, and it was affecting her too. I didn't want to
admit it, but the fear that gnawed at my insides was consuming me. It was
making me question everything and everyone. And it was pushing Gwen
away.
I swallowed hard and nodded. "You're right. I don't trust anyone."
She sighed and went back to her task, her fingers trembling slightly as
she tried to unscrew the cap with one hand. I watched her struggle for a few
more seconds before the tension became too much. I couldn't stand it
anymore.
"I'll do it," I said abruptly.
Gwen looked up at me, surprise flickering in her eyes. "What?"
"I'll paint your toenails," I repeated, my voice firm. It was the least I
could do. I owed her that much.
She blinked at me, clearly taken aback. "You don't have to⁠—"
"I want to," I interrupted. "Please, let me do this."
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, a small smile tugging at the
corners of her lips. "Okay," she said softly.
I took the nail polish from her hand and knelt down in front of her,
gently lifting her foot onto my lap. My hands shook as I unscrewed the cap
and dipped the brush into the polish. I couldn't remember the last time I did
something so delicate, so intimate. I was used to handling contracts,
weapons, making deals that could change the course of nations. But this?
This was different. This was personal.
I carefully applied the polish to her toenails, concentrating on each
stroke, making sure the coverage was even, that I didn't miss a spot. The
silence between us was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was as if the act
itself spoke volumes, more than any words could.
As I worked, I could feel the emotions bubbling up inside me, emotions
I had been trying to suppress since the day she got shot. Guilt, fear, anger at
myself for letting it happen, for not protecting her the way I should have. I
blamed myself for everything. If I had been more vigilant, more cautious,
maybe she wouldn't have gotten hurt.
I heard her sigh softly, and when I looked up, her eyes were on me,
filled with a mixture of affection and concern. "Atticus," she began, her
voice tender.
I shook my head, cutting her off. "Don't, Gwen. Don't try to make this
better. I should have protected you. I should have seen the threat coming. I
should have⁠—"
"Atticus," she said again, more firmly this time. "It wasn't your fault."
I clenched my jaw, the brush in my hand stilling as I fought to keep my
emotions in check. I wanted to believe her, but the guilt was too
overwhelming, too consuming. "It was," I muttered. "I let my guard down. I
failed you."
Gwen reached out with her good hand, gently cupping my cheek, her
touch warm and reassuring. "You didn't fail me," she insisted. "You did
everything you could. And I'm still here, because of you."
I closed my eyes, leaning into her touch, trying to absorb the comfort
she was offering. But it was hard. Too hard. I was supposed to be the strong
one, the protector, the one who kept her safe. But I had failed, and the
weight of that failure was crushing me.
 I finished painting her toenails in silence, each stroke of the brush a
reminder of how close I came to losing her. When I was done, I gently blew
on her toes to help the polish dry, my heart heavy with the words I couldn't
say. The words that were lodged in my throat, choking me.
"I love you," Gwen whispered, her voice barely audible.
I looked up at her, my chest tightening. I wanted to say it back, to tell
her how much she meant to me, how terrified I was of losing her. But the
words wouldn't come. They were stuck, buried under layers of guilt and
self-recrimination.
Instead, I nodded, the corners of my mouth lifting in a small, sad smile.
"I love you too," I said, my voice rough and unsteady.
Gwen smiled, a tear slipping down her cheek as she leaned forward and
kissed me, her lips soft and warm against mine. The kiss was brief, but it
was enough to remind me of what I almost lost, of what I needed to protect
at all costs.
When she pulled back, she wiped her tear away with the back of her
hand and chuckled softly. "You did a pretty good job," she said, wiggling
her toes. "I might have to hire you as my personal pedicurist."
I let out a shaky laugh, grateful for the brief moment of levity. "I'll add
it to my resume," I joked, though my heart wasn't really in it.
Gwen watched me for a moment, her expression softening as she
reached out and took my hand in hers. "Atticus," she said gently, "you don't
have to carry this burden alone. We're in this together."
I squeezed her hand, the warmth of her touch grounding me, anchoring
me in the present. "I know," I murmured, though the guilt still lingered, a
shadow that refused to dissipate.
She smiled at me, that sweet, genuine smile that made my heart ache.
"We'll get through this," she said with quiet conviction. "Together."
I nodded, though I wasn't sure I believed her. But for her sake, I would
try. I would do whatever it took to keep her safe, to make sure she never
had to go through something like this again.
As I helped her back onto the bed and tucked her in, I leaned down and
kissed her forehead, the simple act bringing a lump to my throat. "Get some
rest," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
Gwen looked up at me, her eyes filled with love and trust, and for a
moment, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we could get through
this. Together.
As I turned off the light and left the room, I made a silent vow. I would
protect her, no matter what. I would keep her safe, even if it meant pushing
her away, even if it meant sacrificing my own peace of mind. Because she
was worth it. She was everything.
And I couldn't bear the thought of losing her again.
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 7
GWEN

A few more days at home and Atticus finally decided to let me go into the
office. I was so excited I even packed my lunch the night before.
He still refused to sleep with me, which was beyond annoying. He
would kiss me goodnight at my door like I was some kind of villain trying
to steal his virtue.
But at night, I could hear him in the shower, groaning my name as he
came. I knew that’s what he was doing. I’d tried to communicate to him that
I was feeling better every day, that he didn’t need to treat me like glass.
Hell, we'd had the kind of sex that was probably banned in several
countries. It wasn't even the sex I missed most, though I did miss that. But
even more, I missed the way he would look at me, the questions he would
ask, trying to probe at a deeper level. Now he just looked at me like I was
on a pedestal, like I was someone to protect. Something to own. Something
to take down and polish every once in a while then put back. Not like I was
the woman he loved. But we were going to deal with that. It had been a
rough few weeks, and we just needed to get into our groove again. I started
physical therapy in a few days, and hopefully, once he saw that I wasn't
going to shatter and break at the slightest provocation, he would relax just a
little and let me breathe. Because we could not sustain the way things were
right now. I would kill him.
As I left the penthouse, I was surrounded by men. One or two I
understood. But five? I had expected one of the guys I knew, and
occasionally Sven or Rowan made the cut, but they were mostly guys I
didn’t know.
I had tried to get to know them better by chatting them up, but Atticus
had made it pretty clear they were not meant to be my friends. They were
meant to protect and to watch my back.
I mean, if people were watching my back, shouldn’t I like them? So
despite his growling doom and gloom mood, I was at the very least polite
and welcoming. I liked to know the people I worked with.
It didn't matter though. Nothing could dampen my mood today. Back to
work at last. I knew Atticus had delayed our latest release when I was in the
hospital, but I needed to check on it. I also needed to have several meetings
with my team, reconnect with VPs on the technology side, and make sure
everything was still on track for our goals. Then I needed to find someone
to explain to me exactly what I was supposed to do with all the damn shares
I owned of Pendragon Tech.
I’d tried to broach the subject with Atticus a couple of days ago, but he
hadn't wanted to talk about it and told me not to worry about that right now.
If I could sneak some time in his calendar, I'd talk to Micah. He would
know.
Morgan and my stepmother would probably say I was a workaholic. I
understood why they would say that because there were times that it felt
like everything I did was about the office. But I loved my work.
The bureaucracy aside, I loved the routine of going to the office and
having people you got coffee with. Of getting the latest gossip and finding
out who was dating whom. I loved my team. Every single one of them had
been hand-picked by me. And it was time I got to really know the
Pendragon employees too. At least the ones on this side of the ocean.
When we reached the office, it was so bizarre having to get on an
elevator with five grown men. And the way they surrounded me, like the
points of a star, was ridiculous. I was conspicuous, and it felt like overkill.
When we reached my floor, the one in front, Blaine, I think his name
was, stepped aside to let me through. And I marched down the hall, trying
to shake them a little because I didn't want my team seeing me flanked like
I was some kind of royalty or something.
But the oddest thing happened. There was someone in my office,
making me hesitate when I entered. The name placard still bore my name,
but a blond white guy with a ruddy face was sitting there.
"Hi, can I help you?" I asked hesitantly.
He glanced up, his wide, pale face expressive. "Oh, you're Gwen."
"That I am. The name is on the door."
"Sorry." He pushed to his feet. "I'm Jack. Atticus assigned me two
weeks ago to kind of help the team keep going during your absence, and
obviously, with your new responsibilities, we will be looking to transition
them to me soon anyway. So I figured while the project was paused, it
would be a good time to, you know, get to know everyone. Sorry for
commandeering your office. I figured you'd be moving up to the suites
anyway. I mean, that's if you're even going to be in the office much."
The more he talked, the more I frowned. His gaze skittered to the
broody behemoth behind me, and his eyes went wide. "Oh, uh… Do you
need your office now? Because I can use a cubicle until you're done."
"Done?" What the hell? I was back for good.
"Yeah. I figured you needed to pick something up. Isn’t that why you're
here?"
"No. I'm here to work."
 He blinked at me slowly. "Oh, right. I didn't know you'd be coming in to
work today."
"That's strange because Atticus sure did." I stated matter-of-factly.
"Right. Okay, so like is there something in particular that you want me
to do? I mean, I figured you have your hands full and the project is on hold
anyway."
I narrowed my gaze at him. "Just for the record, that's my team out
there." I was back now. Why was he under the impression that he was
taking over my team?
"Oh, so no one has communicated that to you yet. Okay, well, think of
me as, um, the new you. Right? I got this. Everyone seems cool, and we get
on like a house on fire. So, if there's anything you need, I can tell them."
"Are you suggesting that I need an intermediary to speak to my
people?"
His brows skipped up and down as if he couldn't quite see where he'd
gone wrong. "Well, you know, it's probably easier that way. I mean, there's
a lot of meetings and executive stuff you’ll be dealing with."
"How about this, Jack; it’s best not to assume. If I need you, I’m
capable of communicating effectively. I'm trying to get my team back on
track.”
“Don't you worry about it,” he said with a casual wave of his hand. “I've
already got them under control. I'm sure Mr. Price will communicate a new
release date, and then⁠—"
"Mr. Price will not, in fact, communicate a new release date," I said, my
voice rising. "You're talking about my team, and I will provide a new
release date."
His brows did that thing again. What the fuck was going on here? And
who was this idiot, thinking that this was his team?
A saner voice prevailed in my head and told me to walk away.
 I found Macy in her cubicle, and when I stepped around the corner, she
grinned. "Oh, my God. You're back from the dead. Literally, I hear." She
stood up and gave me a firm but gentle hug as if trying to be careful with
me. "Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes."
"Who the fuck is that in my office?"
Macy rolled her eyes. "Oh, that dipshit. So friendly, that Jack, but
dumber than a box of rocks. He has no idea how any of the software works.
At least two or three times a day, he asks one of us, 'Oh, it doesn't do this?'."
She rolled her eyes. "Where did Atticus scrounge him up from? All I know
is that he showed up two weeks ago and said he's taking over the project."
She had to be kidding. "Taking over? What the hell?"
"Yeah. Something about you having new responsibilities now?"
I ground my teeth. "I do not have new responsibilities."
She grinned at me. "Okay… But aren't you the majority shareholder
now? Like, you're the big lady boss."
I glanced around, smiling at my people. They all returned shy smiles but
kept on moving. Matter of fact, the activity in the bullpen, where most of
the cubicles were located, was subdued. Everybody was head down and
working on something, kind of like when you knew the big boss was in
town and everyone made it a point to look busy because they didn't want to
be the one who was slacking off, gossiping about the latest royal scandal or
which celebrity was caught shagging whom.
I glanced around again. Everyone was tapping away frantically at their
keyboards. This was not my team. While we worked hard and got our shit
done, this tenseness wasn’t the norm. What had happened to my people?
Macy could feel my unease. "Oh, don't be mad at them. They just don't
know how to act. I mean, there's been a huge coup. And then everyone finds
out that you married him. Because I mean, while I knew that you thought
the man was hot, I didn't think you were going to marry him, and I’m closer
to you than most of them are. And then you got shot, and now you're back,
and Atticus was very clear that we were to treat you with the respect that
you deserve, so it's… weird."
I stared at her. "Atticus spoke to you guys?"
"Yeah. He said that when you came back, we were supposed to treat you
with utmost respect. No bullshit, because you have the company in your
hands."
I scowled. "I am going to kill that man."
But as it turned out, I was going to have to wait to kill my husband. He
was in back-to-back meetings all day.
I was happy to find out that he had a new assistant, Andrew. I was
thrilled to learn Leah was gone, but Andrew was quite the stickler about my
husband’s schedule. When he saw me, his eyes went wide and he stood up
immediately. "Mrs. Price."
"No, don't call me that. Call me Gwen."
He frowned. "Um, yes, Mrs. Price, Gwen. I shall try. Although, Mr.
Price has indicated that you should only be called Mrs. Price."
"Well, it's me and my name, so shouldn't the way I like to be referred to
take precedence?"
He rocked back and forth on his feet. "Yes, sure. Gwen."
"Do you know where my husband is?"
"Actually, he's off site at a meeting. But he did say if you ever came by
or needed to see him I was to make room for you. We have an opening at
about four thirty if you'd like to have that slot. He has a call scheduled at a
quarter to five, sales projections for an app manufacturer, but I could
squeeze you in right before that."
"Four thirty? It's ten o'clock. That's all he's got?"
"Yes, ma’am. That's all he's got right now."
Damn. "Fine. I guess I will take four thirty."
By the time lunch rolled around, I was in need of a drink.
 I wasn't allowed to do anything. Nothing at all. My team had been taken
over by a group of Stepford Wives.
Jack was a little too helpful. And I couldn't get a hold of Micah. So I
ended up calling my sister and Lance for lunch at Bryant Park Grill. Maybe
Lance had an idea what the fuck was going on in the office. Although, he
was supposed to be in London, wasn't he?
Morgan got there first. She waved when she saw me. "You look good.
Even better than when I saw you a couple of days ago. A little respite at
home, and probably some sexing-up from your man, has got you looking
good."
I frowned. "Um, respite, yes. No sexing-up from the man yet."
Morgan lifted her brows. "You mean the very same man who usually
looks like he wants to eat you? Say it isn't so."
I rolled my eyes. "We're not going to talk about it. Where's Lance?"
Morgan was in the midst of shrugging right as Lance walked through
the door.
"I was going to say I hope he doesn't come. But there he is, just because
you called," she muttered.
"Oh my God, can you two not bicker today? I just… I need some
normalcy."
My sister just shrugged. "Lance and I bickering is normalcy."
She had a solid point there.
Lance gave me double kisses.
"You can't be European already,” I said with a light smack to his
shoulder. “You were only there for three months."
"I can be anything I want to. And you look great."
Morgan rolled her eyes and slapped down her menu. "I already told her
she looked great. She doesn't need you to reiterate."
Lance opened his mouth to start in on her, and I slapped my hand on the
table. "Both of you, shut it."
 The waiter came over with our drink orders. Morgan just stared at me
when my drink arrived and I downed half of it. "Wow. Rough day?" she
asked.
"Yeah, you could say that. It's like I don't work there anymore."
Lance sat back. "What? At Pendragon? What do you mean?"
"There's this guy, Jack, and he's taken over my job." I spent the next
fifteen minutes telling them about how my morning had gone. How I'd been
stalled at every step and was unable to do the things I needed to do. They
listened dutifully because that's what they were there for.
Lance rubbed the back of his neck. "There's no reason why you can't
manage your team. It doesn't make any sense."
"Yeah, tell him that."
"Also, it doesn't make sense that he would put someone like Jack
Farlow in that position. The guy is an idiot,” Lance said, confirming Macy’s
earlier assessment. “The team won't respect him."
"Again, tell him that."
Morgan piped up. "Have you talked to Atticus about it?"
"No, he was at an off-site meeting. And as you see, I have my
bodyguards out there." Two of them, Sven and some other guy, were at a
table near us. The others were at the exits. "And then I was left to fend for
myself but without any information. Lance, you must know something."
Lance shook his head. "No, nothing that would impede your work.
But…”
He snapped his mouth shut then and shook his head.
I knew Lance. He was keeping something quiet. "What's up? Spill it."
"No, it's just… Atticus said something the other day, that you were ‘the
crown jewel and we had to protect you at all cost.’"
What the hell did that mean? I wasn’t some asset to protect. I was his
wife. "But how is not letting me work protecting me? That's ridiculous.
Besides, I think he fell in love with my brain first, so it really makes no
sense."
Lance shrugged. "He did also say that you might have to be protected
from yourself as well."
I lifted my brows. "He said what?"
Lance winced. "You know he's not my favorite person. However, up
until two weeks ago, he was your favorite person, so that's on you. But I
think he's just really freaked out and worried about you."
This was insane. He was talking to Lance before he was talking to me?
"He won't even have sex with me.”
Morgan's jaw unhinged, and Lance choked on his water before saying,
"Eww. Do I need to hear this?"
Morgan shook her head. "It's okay, Lance. People have sex. You'll learn
about it one day too."
He looked like he wanted to put his hands around her neck and squeeze.
I put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't, okay? I don't want to get kicked out
before I eat my burger."
He sighed, and Morgan did this little side-to-side jig in her seat like she
was kicking her feet joyously under the table. She lived to irritate him.
There was something very wrong with the two of them.
"Anyway, so he thinks he needs to protect me from myself?"
Lance winced. "I know. When you say it out loud like that, it sounds far
worse than when he said it. I'm just saying that he is very much concerned
about your wellbeing."
"Concerned, is he? In that case, I think my husband and I are long
overdue for a very important conversation."
OceanofPDF.com
 8
GWEN

U nfortunately for me , when four thirty rolled around, Atticus was still
on a call. Andrew tried to stop me at the door, but I gave him a harsh shake
of my head and let myself into my husband's office.
His brows lifted when he saw me, even more so when I locked the door.
But he stayed on his call, only watching me warily as I stalked toward him.
He covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “Hey, love, I'm going to be
on this call a minute. Is it urgent?”
I nodded, perching myself on the edge of his desk. One thing I could
always count on with Atticus was that his desk was going to be pristine. His
giant monitor, his pens, pencils, and keyboard, a file for incoming and
outgoing mail, and that was it.
And now you.
“I’ll wait,” I whispered back.
His brows furrowed as if he could tell that I was up to something but
wasn't sure quite what or how it was going to affect him. But he kept
talking and asking questions about expected projections and future plans for
some technology.
 I watched his profile as he spoke. The jaw that had been chiseled by the
gods, the full lips. His patrician nose. The deep-set wintergreen eyes of his
that I had grown to love. The way they were framed and nestled by thick,
sooty lashes that were even curlier than mine.
God, I loved this man. My gaze traced over his neck and his Adam's
apple that moved and bobbed as he spoke.
I had to press my thighs together to quell some of the throbbing. Before
Atticus, I rarely thought about sex. It never even entered into my mind. I
always thought maybe I was demisexual or something. I just was never
particularly interested.
After Atticus, apparently it was all I thought about it.
I shifted slightly, parting my thighs and allowing my skirt to rise up a
couple of inches. That caught his attention. His eyes darted to my knees,
stayed there for just a moment, and then darted away. It was the tick of his
jaw that told me I had him.
I opted to try something.
And what if he rejects you again?
So what if he did? I knew he wanted me. And he was my husband, so I
wasn't just going to give up. We needed to get over this hump.
I silently snorted a laugh to myself, earning me a lifted brow from him.
And his gaze dipped back to my bare legs.
This time, as he spoke on the phone, I parted my legs wider, hiking my
skirt up just a little bit more.
This time his gaze lasted longer, and his tongue peeked out to lick his
lower lip.
I slid my hand up my thigh, pushing my skirt up higher. With some
maneuvering, I hooked the thumb of my good arm in my panties, wiggling
and pushing to get them off.
Despite still murmuring his assent on the phone, his gaze was pinned to
the juncture of my thighs as I shimmied my panties down my legs and
kicked them into his lap. His eyes widened slightly as he noted how soaked
they were, but he still didn't take himself off the call.
I hooked one leg around him and let my thighs fall apart. I could feel
my arousal trickle down my inner thigh, and so help me, I wanted him to
see it. Wanted him to know just how much he affected me.
For a moment, he didn't say anything, but his voice was decidedly
huskier when he spoke. “I need those numbers from you first thing in the
morning. You're right, we need to prioritize that merger.”
I slid my hand down between my thighs, coating my index finger in the
wetness between my lips.
His gaze was fixed on my fingers, his brow furrowing slightly even as
he continued his call with gritted teeth. My heart pounded madly in my
chest. I had never done anything this bold before, but the idea of Atticus
watching me, of showing him just how much I wanted him… It was
intoxicating.
“Yes,” he said into the receiver, his voice low and tense. “Run those
numbers for me.”
My finger circled around my sensitive nub, eliciting a quiet gasp from
my lips. Atticus never broke his gaze away from my actions, and his eyes
darkened with desire and surprise. He was still talking through the phone,
although his voice was lower, raspier.
As my fingers dipped lower, making contact with my arousal, my breath
hitched. My fingers moved rhythmically, creating pleasurable sensations
that left me whimpering in need. Atticus's gaze was glued to my
movements, watching as I let myself go under his watchful eyes, his desire
evident there.
Atticus seemed momentarily stunned into silence, and I reveled in it.
His hand on the receiver was shaking slightly, and he cleared his throat
before continuing with the call in a rather strained voice, but his
wintergreen eyes never left me.
 "All right then, Joshua," he managed to say without stuttering too much.
"I expect that report on my desk tomorrow."
His free hand grabbed the edge of the desk so hard that his knuckles
turned white as he watched me pleasure myself on his pristine desk. He was
barely holding onto his composure as I moaned softly under my breath,
falling deeper into the sensations.
I slid a second finger inside me and started to slide them in and out,
mimicking the way he would fuck me.
With a final goodbye, Atticus hurriedly concluded the call and tossed
the phone aside without a second thought.
"Gwen." He breathed out my name as if it were a prayer. "Goddammit.
What in the hell are you trying to do to me?" he growled, his voice guttural
with arousal.
I bit my lip teasingly as I looked at him through hooded lids before I
whispered, "Take a guess."
Ignoring him for a moment longer, I continued to touch myself until I
reached the edge then stopped abruptly.
My chest was heaving, my eyes half-lidded with desire when I finally
met his, resulting in electric tension between us.
I had him. He was walking the edge of control.
"Will you make me finish on my own, Atticus? Or will you help me?"
His eyes flicked down to the hand between my thighs. A muscle in his
clenched jaw worked visibly as he battled with himself. He leaned back in
his chair, his hands gripping the armrests so hard that his knuckles were
turning white.
"God, Gwen," he breathed, his voice ragged with desire and conflict.
I watched him, my gaze moving from his conflicted face down to the
bulge straining against his tailored trousers. Slowly, I leaned forward, my
foot shifting to his chest, and I brushed my fingers over his lips before
sitting back and bringing myself back to the edge. With a sharp groan,
Atticus inhaled sharply, licking my essence off his lips and closing his eyes
as if in agony.
Seeing Atticus lose control like this spurred me on even more. And for
the first time in a long time, we both understood each other perfectly. He
couldn’t hide from me.
Pushing me away wasn’t going to work. Creating distance wasn’t going
to work. I wasn’t going to accept this chasm between us.
He couldn’t put me on a pedestal. I was flesh and blood. His wife. Some
very real things had happened to me. To us. And he was going to have to
deal with me.
No more hiding.
He moved in closer until he was between my legs, his breath heavy with
desire. I leaned back on his desk, my fingers slipping away from their
previous position and landing softly on the wood, still glistening.
"Tell me, Gwen," he whispered against my lips, his hands gripping my
thighs tightly. "Who do you belong to?"
His voice was silky in its command, sultry and dripping with restrained
desire. My heart pounded in my chest, the air between us crackling with
electricity.
"You," I whispered back, my voice barely audible but the meaning clear
as day. His breath hitched at my surrender, his grip on my thighs tightening.
"Say it again," he commanded, his lips grazing mine tantalizingly but
not meeting them fully. The tease was agonizing and sent tremors through
me. His eyes were ablaze with a fire that mirrored my own.
I lifted my chin. “No. You tell me. Who do you belong to?”
He lifted a brow, but then his gaze softened. “You have owned me body
and soul from the moment I first saw you.”
“Then show me. This thing you’ve been doing… It has to stop now. I’m
your wife. Your partner. I will not break.”
He swallowed hard. “Gwen, I⁠—”
 I shook my head. “No, Atticus. I’m serious." I need you to hear me. “No
more. Full partner, at work, at home. No more kid gloves.”
His brows furrowed, and he swallowed hard.
"I-I understand, Gwen," he murmured, gently releasing my thighs to cup
my face in his hands. His expression was one of both reverence and
remorse. "You're right. I've been distant, distracted. In a futile attempt to
protect you, I ended up hurting you."
His lips grazed along my neck before moving to my shoulder and then
lower still. His breath was hot against my skin as he whispered sweet
promises that sent shivers down my spine.
He met my gaze again, his eyes searching mine for any hesitation or
signs of discomfort, anything that would make him stop. But I met him
head on, my expression determined and wanting. "Atticus," I breathed out.
"Don't stop."
His fingers traced along the edge of my skirt before slowly hitching it
up, revealing more of me to his hungry gaze.
His other hand still cupped my face as he leaned in closer until his
forehead rested against mine.
I swallowed hard as his eyes locked onto mine with a desperate rawness
that mirrored my own. "Make me yours, Atticus," I whispered.
Slowly, he lowered his head, his lips brushing against mine in a
featherlight kiss before trailing down my jawline and along my neck. His
hands firmly spread my legs as he lowered himself, leaving me completely
bare for him.
His tongue flicked across my navel before dipping even lower. My
breath hitched as his warm mouth and talented tongue found my core. He
groaned his approval into the wet heat of my center. "I’ve missed this," he
growled. "Missed tasting all of you, Gwen. You're so fucking delicious."
The vibrations of his voice against my wet folds sent shivers down my
spine. My back arched involuntarily, my legs wrapping themselves around
his neck as he continued to lavish attention on me. His tongue traced the
length of me, swirling in circles, dipping inside before pulling away only to
repeat the teasing motions over again.
"Atticus," I moaned, gripping the edge of the desk as my toes curled
behind his back. His name fell from my lips like a prayer, a plea for him not
to stop as he added his fingers into the mix, sliding one inside me while his
thumb circled where I needed it most.
"God, Gwen, your taste, your scent, it's intoxicating," Atticus groaned
against me. He looked up at me with hooded eyes filled with lust and desire
before descending on me once more, flicking my nub with his tongue as he
thrust two fingers inside me. When a third tickled the pucker of my ass, I
gasped.
My hips bucked involuntarily against him as he pushed his third finger
inside me slowly and gently. "Mm, there's that reaction," he chuckled
against my core, causing vibrations to resonate through me. “My filthy little
lioness loves it when I play with her ass. Fuck, you love it even more when
I fuck this perfect ass, don’t you?”
"Yes," I gasped out, the words barely audible over the sound of my own
labored breathing. "Yes, Atticus. Please, don't stop."
He gave one final tease before eagerly diving back into me, his tongue
flicking and swirling around my core as he began to push his fingers in and
out of me with more intensity. His touch was both rough and gentle at the
same time, driving me to the edge of insanity.
I felt a familiar tension building within me, a heat that started from my
core and was quickly spreading throughout my body. The room started to
spin as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.
"Atticus!" I cried out, arching my back as my climax hit. My body
convulsed under his touch, every nerve ending on fire.
He didn't pull away but instead rode out the waves with me, his tongue
and fingers continuing their relentless assault even as I writhed beneath
him. His actions prolonged the euphoria, making it linger for what felt like
an eternity.
My vision grayed out as he shifted his fingers to penetrate my ass with
two. “Fuck, yes. That’s so good, Ness. I love the way you come for me like
a good wife. Especially your tight little ass. Tonight, I’m going to bathe you
in my cum. Understand? You’re throat, your tits, that pretty pussy. But
mostly, your ass. I’m going to watch as you take all of me. I’m going to
enjoy pushing any cum that leaks out of your ass back in with my fingers.”
Atticus's words hung heavy in the air, a promise of the night to come,
my body already buzzing in anticipation as I lay spent on his desk. His
voice was the husky purr of an apex predator basking in the afterglow of his
conquest, and the reality of it sent another wave of desire crashing through
me.
"Understood," I panted out, possessive satisfaction lighting up my gaze
as I stared up at him. My husband was staking his claim just as much as I
was staking mine.
“Good girl,” he whispered before harshly sucking on my clit, sending
me back over the edge of oblivion again.
"Holy – Atticus!" I screamed, my voice echoing in the room as another
wave of pleasure crashed over me. He chuckled against me, his laughter
vibrating through me and intensifying the sensations.
“You wanted me to lose control. It’s gone. Now give me another one
before my next call. Just one more, love. Just for me, please.”
I wasn’t going to make it. Leave it to Atticus to turn this into a power
play. “No more. Too sensitive. Please.”
“Are you asking me to stop, Ness?” he asked with a soft stroke of his
tongue over my clit.
Holy hell, it was good. So good. “I-I don’t think I can. I⁠—”
"Just one more," he cooed in a tone that held both command and
reassurance. His fingers twisted, hitting the sweet spot inside me that made
my body convulse. His mouth descended on me again, creating a vortex of
pleasurable sensations.
I could hardly breathe as the tension built up once more. My vision
again blurred, my mind clouded with lust and desire. I clung to him
desperately, my nails digging into his scalp as I approached the precipice
once more.
"You're almost there, Gwen," he murmured against me, his words
pushing me closer to my release. "Let go for me."
And just like that, I came undone beneath him. My body thrashed, cries
of ecstasy spilling from my lips as waves of pleasure racked through me.
My body was on fire, every nerve ending aflame with pleasure.
"There we go," he said in satisfaction, his voice a husky growl against
my skin. "God, you're so beautiful when you come."
I lay there panting and trembling, my heart pounding in my chest as the
last vestiges of my climax rippled through me.
Gently he eased his fingers from me and pulled back. “I'm going to get
you a washcloth and clean you up. But you are going to stay just like that
for me while I take my next call. You never know when I’ll get hungry
again.”
OceanofPDF.com
 9
ATTICUS

A s the elevator shot me up the forty-five floors to my penthouse, I rolled

my shoulders to release the tension, knowing Gwen was inside.
I scowled at my cock as it immediately strained against my trousers.
"Down, asshole. I need to talk to her first." What had happened in the
office had been… unexpected. We still had some things to talk about. It
would be helpful if I didn’t have her taste lingering on me.
What she’d done in my office… Fuck me.
You mean, the hottest shit you have ever experienced in your life?
That too.
I’d made her stay with her pussy open to me for thirty minutes until it
was clear that the phone meeting was going to go on longer. Then I’d made
sure the security team had taken her home.
It hadn’t been any easier to concentrate though. Not with the taste of her
pussy on my tongue.
She’d made a good point today. I had been trying to push her away.
Well, not away necessarily. I'd been trying to protect her. Keep her safe. My
obsession with her and the need to have her in my life had put her at risk,
and I hoped to God I could protect her. But because I was so dickmatized
by my fucking wife, I'd missed something crucial the day she got
shot. There was no getting around that.
Don't be an asshole. She wants you. You want her.
The doors to the elevator slid open. I used the biometric eye scanner and
then the additional security gate slid right open too.
I tossed my keys in the little bowl in the vestibule and strolled into the
dining room. I knew Micah wasn’t here. I’d left him at the office working
on a list of proposals for the Vegas Tech Conference in a couple of months,
so we had the house to ourselves. And I'd asked Magda to leave food and
given her the rest of the night off, so I was surprised when I didn't
immediately find Gwen anywhere.
But when I strolled by the library, assuming she was in that room, I
found her in the corner, tucked up on the settee, blankets around her,
glowering at her laptop. I leaned into the doorframe, staring at her for
several long moments, taking her in.
The moonlight hit her dark skin, highlighting all of the high points and
making them glow. I noted the way her teeth grazed her bottom lip as she
gnawed on it. The set of her eyes, her hair, tucked up into a messy pile of
curls. I wanted to let them down. She’d started wearing it longer now, ever
since the Winston Isles.
Maybe it was because of the way you responded to the curls.
Who the fuck knew? I just knew that I wanted to sink my hands in her
hair again and tug. Feed my cock to her once again and have her…
"Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to come in?"
I cleared my throat. "Hey, yourself."
She grinned at me then. "Hello, Mr. Price."
The grin tugged at my lips automatically. "Hello, Mrs. Price."
We both froze, smiling at each other like this was some kind of first
date. I had no idea what to say to her. Sorry I've been a prick and trying
desperately not to fuck you. Also, I'm sorry I almost got you killed. And
would you please, pretty fucking please, let me taste you like earlier?
Gwen's brows lifted. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you okay? How's your shoulder?"
She rolled her eyes and then guiltily slid her gaze to where her sling lay
on the coffee table. "In all fairness, I wore it all day. I wanted to have some
freedom of movement, and it doesn't hurt so much anymore. It's just not
comfy constantly having it tucked against my side."
"You're supposed to wear it."
"There are a lot of things I'm supposed to do. Don't be grumpy about it."
"I'm not grumpy."
She crossed her eyes at me. "I think that's your grumpy face."
And of course, just like that, she could make me laugh.
"You're being a brat,” I said.
"Yes, I am. I feel like you made bold pronouncements this afternoon,”
she reminded me.
Fuck me. My cock was like a steel bar in my trousers, and I cleared my
throat. "Are we going to talk about it?"
She sighed and closed her laptop, tucking the blanket even tighter
around herself, like a cocoon of protection.
I joined her on the settee, lifting her feet up onto my lap to massage
them.
She released a low groan that immediately made me want to suck on her
toe to see what would happen, but I behaved. Because before I could bend
her over the end of the settee and fuck her the way I was dying to, we did
need to talk.
"Are you mad about this afternoon?" she asked.
I watched her closely. She’d forced me to see I was an idiot. How could
she think I was mad? "I'm not mad, Gwen. Why do you think so?"
 "Because I can't read you. I used to be able to. Hell, a few weeks ago, I
could tell everything you were thinking just by looking at you. And it's not
like you'd give a lot away because, well, you're Atticus. You give nothing
away. Literally. I'm consulting runes half the time, and I haven't been able
to read you over the last several days. It feels weird. You’ve gotten really
good at shutting me out, and I don't like it."
"I'm not trying to shut you out, Gwen. It’s just like I said; I'm scared to
death of losing you. Everything that happened…" I shook my head, trying
to find the right words to make her understand that this had nothing to do
with her, but more about who she was to me.
"I miss you, Atticus." She watched me, waiting for me to continue and
say something else.
"I needed you, and I just…” I sighed. “You're right. You're always right,
which is annoying, but I needed you and I pushed you away. I've been
trying to reconcile and figure this out on my own. And yes, I thought you'd
be better, safer, if I just didn't touch you." Her brows furrowed and I could
see her gearing up for an argument. "I think that was wrong now."
"You think that was wrong?"
I sighed. "I know that was wrong. And after what happened in the
office…" I narrowed my gaze at her, trying to assess if there was something
I could do to make it happen again. "It was like, I don't know, freedom?"
Her brows furrowed, and Christ, all I wanted to do was kiss her. Just
wrap her in my arms and do nothing but kiss her for hours on end. She
looked so damn cute. But instead, I continued explaining. "All I’ve wanted
to do for the past several days is to hold you and kiss your fears away, and
well, very selfishly, sink into you until I could be certain that you were real.
That you were okay. But today, it felt like maybe you were okay, and I was
caught up in my own bullshit."
She reached a hand out for one of mine, and I gave it to her. "I've
needed you, Atticus. Just you. Not my billionaire husband. Not the solver of
all my problems. Not the man who would burn the whole world down for
me. I need the man who insists that I can't eat gummy bears for dinner. The
man who, every morning, won't wake me up until I'm waking up on my
own just because he likes to watch me sleep. Which is creepy, but you
know, we all have weird things. I want the man who wrote me letters even
though he knew I was angry with him. I want the man who sends me
smoothies to make sure that I eat something other than the aforementioned
gummy bears. Not having you felt like I was abandoned, adrift and alone. I
don't like feeling like that, Atticus. That's how I felt most of my life before I
met you."
I cursed under my breath. "Gwen."
She held up a hand. "I'm serious. I love you. I think I will always love
you. I can't be without you. I don't know how to do that, nor in fact, do I
want to even try. Just having you not with me, pushing me away, that
sucked. I hated it. It felt like I was unwanted, that I was secondary."
I winced hearing it. That wasn't how I wanted her to feel. It wasn't what
I wanted her to think. How could she not know how much I loved her?
"I fucked up, huh?"
She shrugged. "Only a little. And there are ways to make it up to me."
I grinned at her. "Of course, whatever my queen desires, I shall
endeavor to rectify my own stupidity because of my terror and fear of
losing you."
Her smile was soft. "Well, I mean, this is a pretty easy solution, I think."
"Oh yeah? Let me guess; it starts with this foot massage and ends with
you coming around my tongue?"
"The foot massage is a good start, but I'm actually working on
something, so the orgasms are going to have to wait."
"You're serious?"
"Yes. I see that my favorite soldier is ready, willing, and available for
service. And as much as I want to make use of him, because I have missed
you like you would not believe, I'm onto something right now."
I frowned. "Okay, what are you up to?" I scooted myself closer so that
her legs bracketed mine like a tent. I used the new position to move my
hand up her thighs, and she sucked in a sharp breath.
"Atticus, you cannot distract me right now."
I shrugged. "What? I finally understand that if I touch my wife I'm not
going to be hurting her, and now you want to stop me?"
"I don't want to stop you, but focus first. I think I hacked into the
cameras in the garage across the street."
If that wasn't an ice-bucket bath, I didn't know what was. "What the hell
are you doing?"
"Easy does it. Remember, you weren't going to go crazy on me and act
overly protective."
You just promised. "Um, right."
"I think I may have video footage of whoever shot me."
"Holy shit. Can you show me?"
She opened her laptop again. "Okay, so this is our building in this model
I've made, yeah? And these are the office buildings across the way." She
pointed out the window. "That's the parking structure two-blocks down,
right? Across the street from it, there’s a building under construction."
She pulled up a video on her laptop then showed me as I strained to
glare at the dark grimy footage. She paused it and then pointed. "See? Right
there. The cameras appear to move around. They're constantly in rotation. If
they were a pro, they would have known and maybe disabled the cameras,
or maybe they just left that one, I have no idea. But look, you can see it.
They come up the stairs, and then right there, you can see them as they get
into position."
She was right, they did get into position as if seemingly looking down
the street, as if expecting us. Like we had come home at exactly the time
that was anticipated.
 How had they known exactly when to expect us?
Again, we watched the dark grimy figure line up the shot. Then we saw
two flares from the rifle. Two. Had one gone wide?
I wanted that damn bullet. I might be able to track them from the
ammunition that they’d used.
"And then it doesn’t show any cars leaving or anyone coming out. There
are no cameras to access on the other side of the building, but the way I
figure it, if we just take to the street, we’ll find someone who was around
that day. Maybe someone unhoused. Maybe a security guard. We have no
way of knowing, but I figure we can at least start hitting the pavement and
look."
I stared at her, shaking my head. "How did you do this?"
"I didn't do anything."
"Yes, you did. Because we assumed, given the direction, that the shots
came from the building across the street."
"I mean, you're not entirely wrong, but because that building is under
construction, the elevators were inaccessible. Whoever it was deliberately
climbed the stairs or figured out how to make the service elevator run. They
were determined."
"The question is, why?"
"And, the other question," she added, "is who that person was. And can
we talk to them?"
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 10
ATTICUS

A n hour later , Gwen hesitated in the doorway as I lay back against the
headboard of our bed. She had taken quite a while getting ready for bed,
and I tried not to focus on the sling on her left arm.
“Come here, Gwen.”
She shifted from foot to foot, peering up at me through her lashes. And
fuck, all I wanted to do was jump out of bed, dig my hands into her hair,
and worship her until she was melting. And then I wanted to throw her on
the bed and spread her pussy out like the smorgasbord that it would be.
But it wasn't her fault that I was barely holding on to my control. It was
mine. I promised myself I’d take it easy and go slow.
She slowly walked over to her side of the bed, sliding in, and I noticed
under that little camisole thing that she wore to bed she didn't have on any
panties. She turned off her light and rolled over toward me. “I'm here. Is
there something you wanted?”
I stared at her for a moment in the dim light, my gaze tripping over the
bridge of her nose, the full ripeness of her lips, the smile that hovered at the
corners. My heart squeezed. She was mine. All mine. And she wanted to be
here. More importantly she wanted me in here. So why was I nervous?
“There's a lot that I want.”
I shifted position to place her against the pillows in the center of the
bed. Then I drew back the covers and blankets until she was exposed in
front of me. “I think I'm going to start at the feet and work my way up.”
Gwen's breath caught as I moved down the bed, grasping her ankle
gently and lifting her leg. I pressed a kiss to the arch of her foot, my eyes
never leaving hers.
"I want you to know, Gwen," I murmured, my fingers massaging the
curve of her heel, "this isn't just about tonight. This is about every night.
Every morning. Every stolen afternoon. And also about every moment I’ve
missed. Every moment I plan to make up for."
She gasped as I flicked my tongue against her ankle, tasting the saltiness
of her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she bit her lower lip in
anticipation as I continued my slow, torturous ascent up her leg.
"I want you to remember tonight," I said, pressing kisses up along her
calf. "I want you to remember the feel of my hands on your skin, my breath
against your thigh." I nipped lightly at the inside of her knee, eliciting a
shuddering breath from Gwen. "I want you to remember that you belong to
me."
Her hands clenched and fisted the sheets as I teased my way higher, my
lips tracing a path along the inside of her thighs. She was so soft and warm,
and she smelled of honey and woman and something uniquely Gwen. The
heady scent intoxicated me, fueling the fire in my belly.
As my lips trailed higher, I couldn't help but marvel at the way her body
trembled beneath my touch. It was as if she'd been waiting for this moment
as much as I had. Our time apart had left us both aching, longing. And now,
we were finally here, together again.
"Atticus," she whispered, her voice thick with need.
 "Shh," I soothed, flicking my tongue along her inner thigh. "Just feel."
I could feel her muscles clench and unclench as I neared her core, the
scent of her arousal filling the air. Her wetness served to only further incite
my own hunger, but tonight was about her. Tonight was about making up
for all the nights we'd missed, all the touches we'd yearned for.
Finally, I reached the apex of her thighs and looked up at her. "Gwen," I
breathed, my voice a low growl. "Tonight, I'm going to taste every inch of
you. Every. Inch."
Her response was a strangled moan as I dipped my head between her
thighs, spreading them wide with my hands and using my shoulders to keep
them open.
With another smirk up at her, I planted my mouth over her pussy. Her
taste exploded across my tongue, and I groaned low in satisfaction.
I teased her folds with my tongue, swirling and flicking, drinking in her
essence. Gwen's hips arched upward in response, her fingers digging into
the sheets as moans and whimpers spilled from her lips.
"That's it," I purred against her core. "Let it out, Ness. I want to hear
every sound."
Her indrawn breath was like music to my ears as I lapped at her folds,
tasting the sweet nectar of her arousal. Slowly, I teased my way up her slit,
savoring every inch of her until I reached the sensitive bud of her clit.
Her response was a cry ripped from deep within her chest as I plunged
two fingers into her wet core. Her hips bucked, riding my fingers as they
thrust inside her. All the while, I never stopped my oral assault on her clit,
dragging her straight to the edge of oblivion.
Her fingers latched into my hair, tugging me close while she ground her
sweet cunt against my face. Fuck me, I was never leaving. I would spend
the rest of my life right here, between her firm thighs.
When I pulled one of my now-slick fingers from her pussy and teased
her tight starfish entrance with it, she choked out a sob. “Oh God, Atticus.”
 “Yeah, baby. I’m going to keep my promise to you and fuck you here.
Would you like that, Ness? Tell me how much you want it.”
Her body trembled beneath me, and her eyes squeezed tight as my slick
finger traced around her entrance. "I want it," she gasped, her hands
tightening in my hair. "Atticus, please."
I gently pressed my slick finger against her tight opening, teasing her. I
wanted to drive her to the edge of madness and then pull her back just
before she fell over the ledge. Tonight was about savoring every moment,
not rushing into anything.
Slowly but surely, I eased the tip of my finger past her entrance. She
gasped at the intrusion but didn’t protest. The look in her eyes was one of
unadulterated pleasure mixed with anticipation.
As I slowly pushed deeper inside, she whimpered softly and bit down
on her lower lip. Her hips rose from the bed, pushing against my hand in a
silent plea for more.
"Look at me," I ordered hoarsely as I plunged deeper. Gwen's eyes met
mine, and the intensity of her gaze lit a fire within me that only she could
extinguish.
With agonizing slowness, I pulled my finger back before pushing
forward again, burrowing deeper into her ass with each thrust. Her breath
hitched every time I moved further inside her; a mixture of gasps and
moans filled the room along with the rustle of soft sheets beneath us.
Letting go of her clit, I placed my other hand on her lower stomach,
pressing down with the heel of my palm, applying just enough pressure to
make her pant and twitch.
“Are you close, Ness? Does my beautiful wife want to come?”
"Yes, yes," she gasped out between pants, her body starting to shake.
Her grip on my hair didn't slacken, instead pulling me in even closer.
With a smile, I pulled back, easing my tongue and fingers out of her.
She made a whimpering plea as I gently eased off her sling before
maneuvering her onto her stomach, grabbing a pillow to place under her so
her ass was on perfect display for me.
My eyes roamed her flawless form, taking in the sight of her arched
back, the curvature of her hips, and the succulent, juicy apple of her ass.
Her clenched fists gripped tightly to the sheets as she awaited my next
move. The anticipation in the room was thick enough to cut through with a
knife.
My hand trailed up her thigh, pausing to give her ass a firm squeeze
before I dipped my finger into her wet heat once more. She gasped, arching
her back to meet my touch as I slid another finger deeper inside her. I
slowly pumped in and out, my other hand moving to caress the span of her
back.
Sweating lightly from the heat of our bodies, I leaned over her figure,
my chest pressing into the smooth plane of her back. My lips found their
way to the nape of her neck, kissing and biting softly while my fingers kept
thrusting within her warmth.
One of my hands moved upward, cupping one of her pert breasts while I
continued to suckle at her neck. She twisted underneath me, angling herself
so that I had better access to all of her sensitive spots.
"Atticus," she muttered in a breathless sigh as my thumb began rubbing
circles around her nipple, pinching it until it peaked.
"Yes, love?" I murmured against the shell of her ear.
She groaned at my teasing tone and tried to push herself onto my
fingers. "Quit teasing and fuck me."
A chuckle escaped me before I kissed a path down to her ass, nipping
her skin gently as I traveled. "Patience," I murmured against her skin before
flicking my tongue down the seam of her ass.
With my free hand, I grasped her cheek, holding her open as I licked her
ass and fucked her pussy with my fingers.
 "Oh, fuck!" she moaned, her entire body shaking as I continued to press
against her most sensitive spots.
"I can't wait to come inside this tight hole," I growled against her skin
before leaning in to taste the scent of her arousal.
When I pulled back once again, this time to get the lube and shuck my
boxers, Gwen shook beneath me.
I coated my thick erection as I watched her writhe against the pillow.
“Baby, are you trying to get yourself off on that pillow?”
“No,” she whispered, then changed her answer. “Yes,” she said with a
squeak.
I landed a palm swiftly on her ass, and she made a sound that was part
moan, part plea, and all arousal. “Naughty wife. Tonight your orgasm
belongs to me, remember? You wanted me to remember how good we are
together. And I want you to remember whose pussy and ass this is. I want
my orgasms. Do you hear me?”
She gasped and nodded, her hands clenching the sheets once more.
“Yours, all yours.”
“Good girl,” I purred, bringing the mushroom tip of my cock to her ass.
With one slow push I entered her tight heat. Oh fuuuuck. The edges of my
vision went gray, and I felt dizzy for a moment.
Through clenched teeth, I asked. “Ness, you okay?”
“God… yes,” she groaned as I slid inch by torturous inch into her
tightest hole. She was so damn perfect, so wet and hot and tight that it took
every ounce of my control to go slow.
Her inner muscles spasmed around me as I bottomed out. The wave of
pleasure that washed over me made my knees weak and my balls tighten.
Slowly, I started to pull out before slamming back in. She arched her
back, taking me deeper while she moaned my name.
“You feel so fucking good,” I growled out as I started a slow, deep
rhythm. “Fuck, you feel so tight and hot around me. You’re mine, all mine.”
 “Yes, yes!” she groaned, pushing back against me.
Her hands clawed at the sheets as she met me thrust for thrust, her
moans spurring me on. My grip on her hips tightened, hoping not to bruise
her delicate skin, but I couldn’t help it. The sight of my cock disappearing
into her ass before reappearing was enough to make me lose my mind.
“Oh God, Atticus, I’m so close!”
“Let go, baby. I have you. I always have you.” And with those words,
her body convulsed around my cock.
I continued to thrust into her while her orgasm rocked through her
shaking body.
“That’s it, come for me,” I growled out, my own orgasm cresting.
With a final thrust, I came deep within her tight heat, marking her as
mine completely.
Breathing heavily, I collapsed on top of her, my cock still buried deep
within her ass. “Fuck, Ness…” was all I managed to get out. I didn’t know
how long we stayed like that, but I eventually eased out of her then headed
to the bathroom. I turned the faucets on in the tub and grabbed a few wet
washcloths for her.
“Here, baby,” I said, cleaning her up before I picked her up and carried
her to the bathroom.
“Atticus, I can walk you know.”
Gently I placed her in the tub before sliding in behind her. “I’m aware.
But I have a massage to complete. Somebody distracted me.”
“Oh, that was me, was it?”
“Sure was.” I kissed her neck again. “I’m sorry I was a fool. I won’t pull
back from you anymore.”
“Glad to hear it. Now that you’re being reasonable, maybe we can talk
about what the hell you did with my job.”
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 11
GWEN

"D on ' t you think this is a little extra?"

I glowered at Atticus as he double and triple-checked my bulletproof
vest.
The compromise was three of Pierce’s men. He’d wanted five for a
simple excursion across the street.
"Somebody shot at you right from that building,” he reminded me. “You
would think that maybe you’d remember that."
"Yes, I do remember." I rolled my shoulder again. "However, the vest in
broad daylight is a bit much, right?"
"I don't know, because I don't know who shot you,” he said, trying to
sound perfectly logical. “Stop being stubborn. Let me do this."
I searched his gaze, and I could see the stress around his eyes and his
mouth, so I stopped arguing. And not that I had a death wish or anything,
but we were literally just crossing the street and going down a block. But he
had a point. We didn't know who had tried to shoot me. So it was probably
better to be safe than sorry.
"Fine. But do we really need all three of them, or would one suffice?"
 "Yes, all three."
"If you saw a random couple approaching you with three massive dudes
behind them, would you talk to them?" I asked.
He frowned, inclining his head at Sven. "Sven, you're with us. You two
stay back a bit."
The others didn't look pleased about it. And for that matter, neither did
Sven. But it didn't matter, because at least I had my husband back. That
shell of a man who'd been walking around the house since I'd gotten home
from the hospital was gone. And I was glad because I wasn't particularly
fond of him.
He took my hand and we crossed the street, deftly managing to avoid
the puddles from the rain the night before. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, Atticus, I’m fine."
"Are you sure? Because you winced just now."
I snorted out an exhausted laugh. "I winced because someone was a
little greedy in the shower this morning and had to fuck me twice."
He smiled contritely, but I could see the hint of mischief in his eyes.
"Well, I'm trying to make up for lost time."
"Yes, and I appreciate it. But I’m sore, so sometimes I'm going to wince
a little. Especially when we're skipping over puddles."
"Okay, I promise, I'll take it easy the next couple of days."
"You will do no such thing, Atticus Price. Matter of fact, I might
demand another shower this afternoon."
"Oh? Well, my wife is greedy."
About five feet behind us, Sven just cleared his throat and tried to look
anywhere but at us. I shook my head at him and grinned at Atticus. "Let's
go."
My thoughtful husband slowed his normal pace down for me and
shortened his stride slightly so I could keep up. When we reached the
construction site, he found the foreman. "Hey, just a random question. We
had a security issue a couple of weeks back. Any chance you have security
guards who are supposed to be watching the place at night?"
The foreman frowned. "What's this about?"
Atticus opened his mouth, but I thought maybe we would try the honey
approach first. I slid a hand on his chest gently and patted it. "What my
husband is trying to say is, we noticed from the security camera from the
other building that there was somebody stationed kind of in the door frame,
and we were just wondering if they saw anyone coming or going. Anyone
running away from the building on either side that night?"
The foreman frowned as he looked at me, then back at Atticus, then
back at me again. I gave him a dazzling smile that hopefully said, 'Please
help us, so that my husband doesn't make you regret your life choices.'
The guy nodded and went over to his laptop, typing something in. "Um,
you're looking for Adam Bailey. Luckily for you, he is on shift right now.
Just down that way. Watch your head.” He pointed to another man standing
off to the side. “Troy over there, he'll take you down to the security room."
I gave Atticus a wide grin, and he looked like, well, like perhaps he
wanted to spank me. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, I'd gotten us
what we needed.
As we marched through the security office with our hardhats on, Sven
hilariously made it look like his could easily scrape the ceiling. Atticus just
shook his head at me. "I'm just worried about you, that's all."
"I'm fine. And he's willing to talk to us. See? You don't have to break
down everything."
"It's more efficient though, isn't it?"
I rolled my eyes. "When did I become the warm and fuzzy one?"
He laughed at that. "Is that what you're calling this? Warm and fuzzy?"
"I'm calling it being good with people,” I smirked.
When we reached the security office, we found Adam Bailey, and Sven
parked himself outside the room.
 "Excuse us?" Atticus said tentatively.
Bailey turned around and nodded, eyeing me, then Atticus. "Yeah? What
can I help you with?"
Atticus stepped forward. "On the night of August eighth, were you on
duty?"
He frowned again. "I don't know. If the boss says I was on duty, maybe I
was."
I sighed, trying to take over again, but Atticus stopped me. "You see, my
wife, she's pretty patient. But somebody tried to shoot her that night, so I'm
far less patient, right? You were on duty. Your foreman already confirmed
for us. Which means you had to have seen someone coming and going, and
if you didn't, I bet there was something on these cameras."
He swallowed hard, shifting his gaze. "Look, I didn't do anything.
Sometimes I turn a blind eye when a couple of kids come in and smoke or
something."
"You let people smoke in this building? Aren't there highly flammable
materials around?"
"I don't know. Look, that night, some kid comes up to me and offers me
fifty bucks to turn off our back cameras. Of course, I didn't see him again.
But when I checked, nothing was taken."
Atticus groaned. "You know what this kid looks like?"
"No. I didn’t pay that much attention."
"You don't have a name or anything?"
"No, but I see him around from time to time."
Atticus looked like he wanted to pummel him as he took another
menacing step toward Adam Bailey. I stepped between them. "Sorry about
him. He really is particular about my safety. So the kid paid you fifty bucks
for you to pay a little less attention to what might be going on inside the
building. Nothing was reported missing, and you probably forgot about
him. I get that. But if you saw the kid again, could you point him out to us?"
 "Yeah, I guess so."
"Okay then." I turned my attention back to Atticus. "We could probably
get footage from across the street and see if we can get the kid on camera.
Maybe he’s local and works around here or something."
Atticus pressed his lips firmly together. "Yeah, maybe."
"Okay, how does that sound, Mr. Bailey? If you'll help us with this, we
won't tell your employer you're letting people come in and smoke around
flammable materials. Though honestly, really?"
He sighed. "You're not going to rat on me?"
"No, we just want to find this kid. That's it."
Atticus mumbled under his breath. "I might rat."
I rolled my eyes. "That's enough out of you."
He groaned low. "Fine. However, we will be getting your details from
your employer, Bailey. Don't run, or I will make it my personal job to come
and look for you. You won't like it."
The man stared at him as if suddenly hyperaware that maybe he'd
miscalculated somewhere along the way. "Yeah, I got it."
As we left, I took my husband's hand. "Did you have to scare him?"
"If he knows something, he needs to tell us. If I have to scare the
information out of him, I'm happy to do so."
"Right. But what if... you know, people are right when they say you
catch more flies with honey."
"No one says that. Also, I don't want to catch flies. I want to catch the
idiot who tried to kill my wife."
"I know. I know. And I love you."
He dipped and kissed me gently. "Good. I love you too. Now let's get to
work. Apparently, I need to resolve a little issue with the whole employee
management team."
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 12
GWEN

I was not looking forward to this. My father was coming in to do the

final sign-off on paperwork concerning Atticus's deal with him now that the
wedding had been made public. He'd insisted that I be there for the meeting
though, which likely meant he was looking for some kind of confrontation.
I was loath to give him anything he wanted, but Atticus had wanted me
there too. And oddly, when we walked into the conference room, he sat me
at the head of the table and took the seat next to me.
When my father walked in, Atticus was all smiles, shook his hand, and
invited him to take a seat. My father frowned when he saw where I was
sitting. "Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. Though, it would have
been nice to know when my own daughter got married. Of course I had to
take it upon myself to verify that the wedding was, in fact, completely
legal."
Atticus merely shrugged as I scowled, pinching my jaw tighter and
tighter until my right molar hurt. As I stared at my father, I tried to make
sense of why I had spent so much of my time needing a kind word from
him, needing him to see me, needing anything from him.
 He hadn't always been terrible. There was a time when Mom was still
alive that he cared. Or at least he did a reasonable facsimile of caring when
he turned up for the occasional recital or to check on me because Mom had
said that he should. I wondered when he'd started to hate me. And for a long
time, I thought he did. But I realized that so much of this indifference was
just a casual selfishness where he only thought of himself first.
Oh, and he's a colorist. But what can you do about that?
Atticus inclined his head to me. "Gwen, why don't you walk your father
through the final termination points of his deal?"
I lifted my brow. Atticus knew all the points. He just wanted me to be
the one to say it. To put the final nail in my father's coffin. He wanted to
give that to me. And it was weird, because I didn't want it, or rather I didn't
need it anymore. What I saw was a sad old man who was so self-absorbed
he denied himself love. The chance to know his daughters.
"Your signature on this line concludes all business that Becks has with
Pendragon. All the terms of the agreement have been met."
My father tried to bluster. "Now, I haven't verified⁠—"
I put up a hand casually, dismissively. "No, you have the proof. All the
paperwork has been filed at the county registrar of New York. Atticus and I
are, in fact, legally married. And the portion of Becks technology that you
purchased four years ago, has now been transferred to Pendragon. You and I
are now separate."
My father eased himself down on the chair and glowered at me. "So
what, you think you're important now and you can forget that we are
family? I'll see you on Friday night."
I shrugged. "I will only see you on Friday because I care about Clarissa
and Morgan. Not because I care about you. And while we're on the subject
of our weekly ‘family’ nights, I will no longer be jumping through hoops
for you, and you will start treating Clarissa with respect. I will no longer
stand by and let you talk to her however you wish."
 "You want to tell me what to do at my own house?"
Atticus grinned at that. "Sweetheart, why don't you tell your father
about that fancy little clause in your mother's will that maybe he forgot
about?"
I smiled at him then, reveling in Atticus going to bat for me. "Oh, yes.
At the time it wasn't a concern because I wasn't ever planning on getting
married. But you do remember Mom's little stipulation before you wed?
That when she got married, she'd become the owner of the house, and then
of course, upon her death the house went back into trust for her daughters.
And whoever got married first was to have it as her family home."
Dad started to turn red under his skin. "What are you talking about?
That's my house."
"Correction, Dad, that is now my house. Now, I'm inclined to let you
live there for as long as you choose to do so, but from now on, I'm going to
allow Clarissa to do whatever she wants with the house. Morgan too. The
two of them shall decide, since they'll be spending the majority of the time
there. Not you. You’ll make no more decisions about what can and cannot
be changed. No more decisions about who can come and go. No more
decisions about staff. All of those will be made by Clarissa from now on."
"How dare you? I raised you. I put a roof over your head."
I lifted a finger and waived it at him. "No, technically, grandfather put a
roof over my head. But I will give you this; you maintained it. And for a
while there, Mom loved you. And from what I remember, you loved her
too. I get that it changed you when she died. But what I don't get is how you
could look at us, knowing we needed our mother, knowing we needed you,
and yet you refused to help us. You just poured yourself into your job, into
the most expensive bottles of scotch you could find, and replaced my
mother like you were trading cars. Thank God we got lucky with Clarissa,
but you turned yourself off. You stopped caring. And maybe you never
loved me as much as you loved Morgan, but I know that you did love me
once. You took me riding when I was little. I remember that. I remember
you holding me on my first pony. When I fell, you came over and held me,
firmly but gently, and told me I needed to get back on so that I wouldn't be
afraid. You did care. You were just… absent in so many ways. So you can
live there as long as you want. You're my dad, after all. But the fact that you
were so eager to sell off your daughters makes me less inclined to help you
at all."
"Now wait a damn minute, you cannot do this. That is my house."
Atticus pushed to his feet then. "I think we're done here. Gwen has
already told you everything you need to know, and she has the benefit of
Pendragon lawyers behind her. You'll find that everything is in order. The
house is hers. And she's already told you how it's going to be. So you
should probably start getting on good terms with your current wife."
Atticus reached his hand out to me, and I smiled up at him, taking it and
getting to my feet. "Dad, I hope that one day you recognize the pain and the
heartache you put me through for no good reason, though I know it’s
unlikely. But you know, a girl can’t help but dream. And even if you
somehow stopped loving me, I do love you. Atticus and I will see you for
dinner on Friday."
When I walked out of the conference room, I didn't realize I was
shaking until Atticus rubbed gentle circles into my lower back. "How are
you doing?" he asked in a quiet voice.
"Um, I feel like I just ran half a mile, flat out."
"Well, that was emotional. So that about covers it."
We nodded at several employees before he pulled me into the stairwell
and tucked my face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, holding
me tight. "You're going to be okay, Gwen."
"I know. I expected that to hurt, to feel something. But all I feel is
numb."
 "That's probably to be expected. You just did a hard thing. But now it's
over, and you only have to see him on your terms from here on out."
"I'm not sure I could have done that without you."
He shrugged. "You didn't really need me."
"Yeah, I did. But I will say it felt damn good. Wait till I tell Clarissa that
she can do whatever she wants with the house. She's been itching to redo
that study for years."
"Good for her. And that’s really generous of you."
"She's my stepmother. I may not have grown up with her because I was
almost out of the house by the time she came to live with us, but she's been
good with Morgan. And my father is an asshole to her. She doesn't deserve
that."
"I wholeheartedly agree." He pressed a kiss to my temple. "Now, let's
just go and verify that he can't find some way to retaliate."
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 13
ATTICUS

G wen had made herself scarce once I told her the boys were coming
around. I assumed she was in the library or the bedroom.
When Pierce showed up with Lance in tow, I frowned. "I swear to God,
I'll send you back to London, Lakewood."
Lance just grinned and shrugged. "Nope. Apparently, someone tried to
kill my best friend, and I should probably stick around until that’s cleared
up."
I hated that he was right. While Gwen was in danger, keeping close the
people who cared about her and would do their best to protect her was what
we needed.
"Are you here for me or for her?"
"Well, I was here to see her. And I will. But Pierce told me that you
guys were up to no good, so I figured I should probably check in and make
sure you don't blow up her life first."
I ground my teeth. "I still don't like you Lakewood."
"What else is new? But you're currently the guy who's supposed to
make sure she doesn't get whacked. I have to check in and make sure you
do your job right."
I glowered at Pierce. "Did you have to bring him up?"
"He is on the approved visitor list, but we can take him off.” Pierce
winked at me. “I never liked him anyway."
Lakewood just grinned at Pierce as he led us both into the study. Gavin,
Micah, and Rowan frowned when they saw Lance, but none of them
questioned him being there. Micah actually looked slightly entertained by
the whole prospect.
"Well, the gang is all here." Lakewood said.
Gavin sat back and took a sip of his scotch. "Hell, if I knew we were
adding one more to this boy's club, I would have brought more brownies."
Lakewood immediately went to the plate in the middle of the coffee
table before even going for his scotch. Damn it, I'd hoped to save more
brownies. But the way this lot ate, there wouldn't be any left.
And Gavin, that fuck, as good as he was at baking, he rarely did it. Only
when he had his daughter, Emery, with him. And he and Emery's mother
were still working on that custody agreement. At least one that he could live
with.
Lance just made himself right at home. I ignored him and turned my
attention to my brother. "Micah, can't you hack your way into this
information?"
"Asking questions like that, I’d swear you don't run a multi-national
tech corporation,” he said with a chuckle.
"I may run it, but I don't own it anymore, remember? The real juice is in
the other room."
Micah muttered under his breath, "Shall I go and ask her what we do
next?"
"As much as you know she'd love that, the answer is no. This is on us.
We fucked up somewhere, so we fix it,” I reminded him. “This isn't for her
to fix."
 Micah nodded. "But to be fair, she did save us from Dad twice. So
maybe this is the time to ask."
I hated that I had to tell him the truth. "Well, she's still miffed at me for
pulling back all her tasks at Pendragon, so she's deliberately teaching me a
lesson and trying to catch up on all the work she missed. You know how
Gwen loves her job."
Lakewood shrugged. "If you’d asked, I could have told you not to take
her team away from her. It's the number one way to have her dive right back
into everything. She once went on vacation for a whole four days and came
back early just because she was afraid I was fucking things up."
"Yeah, that sounds about right,” I agreed.
"But I know a trick, if you want it. Should I be so bold?" he asked.
I crossed my arms and leaned back against my desk. "Are you telling
me you know my wife better than I do, Lakewood?"
He gave me a shit-eating grin, bit into the brownie, then deliberately
tossed the remainder of it in his mouth. "Well, she did run to me in London,
didn't she?" he asked around a mouthful of chocolate.
I was off the desk in a second, but Micah planted a firm hand on my
chest. Pierce stepped into the pathway too. None of them were going to let
me kill him. "What the fuck did you say?" I snarled.
"Oh, easy does it. She married you, asshole. I'm just saying, I do know
her well. But by all means, keep carrying on this way. It's entertaining for
me when you fuck up."
I could still feel the pressure of my brother's hand on my chest, and I
glowered at him. His silent, long look told me I needed to settle down and
stop letting Lakewood get to me. I knew he was right. I'd been on edge, and
nothing was going the way I had planned or the way I wanted it to. We still
had no answers, and Gwen was still in the crosshairs. If I didn't figure out
the answers soon, I was going to have to send her away again.
Oh, great. Lakewood is right. You never learn your lessons.
 No, this time I'd be going with her. We'd take an extended honeymoon.
Somewhere quiet and remote. Somewhere no one knew about. Not even my
guys.
She won't like that.
No, she would not. But if we didn't have something actionable soon, it
might be the safer option. Because I knew her. She couldn't live with
constant security for long. Constant attention on where she was going and
who she was going to be with. It made her sad, and I didn't like that.
"If everyone has settled down now, we need a plan of attack," Rowan
said. He also grabbed a brownie, and it was all I could do not to snap at
him.
"Where are we on the kid the security guard saw?" I asked.
Rowan nodded and then clicked the remote to the big screen monitor on
the wall. "That is Philip Mangles. He works at the garage down the street.
His dad owns it, so he's got a little freedom. He got into trouble a while
back, nothing major. A couple of possession charges. His crew though, if
you can call them that, have all been in and out of jail, a bunch of real lay-
abouts. It’s a shame too. I hear this kid is a half-decent artist."
I frowned at the kid with scraggly brown hair that looked like it was in
desperate need of a cut at the very least, or maybe a shearing to get some of
the mats out of it. And was that a face tattoo? "Where do I find him?" I
asked Rowan.
"Well, that's the bet. You’re as likely to find him around the garage as
anywhere else. While he technically lives at home, he never seems to spend
any time there. Sven and I tried to pay him a visit there."
I stared at his photo again. "Okay, so you already tried talking to him,
but it was a no go?"
Pierce nodded. "Yeah. I've already got a couple of guys watching the
garage. As soon as he turns up, we'll grab him."
 "Yeah, do that. But don't spook him,” I warned. “If you find him, I want
a chance to question him first."
Pierce nodded.
"Do we have any other angles?” I asked. “I hate to say it, but could this
have been Dad?"
Micah drained his glass at the mention of our father. "I've checked his
financials. A job like this would call for money, at least six figures, and I
don't see any movements on his accounts that set off alarms."
Hearing the idea that Gwen's life was a matter of zeros made my
stomach turn. "And we're sure? Maybe someone is doing him a favor?"
My brother shook his head. "Is he despicable? Yes. Real scum of the
earth type, that's our dad. But is he responsible for this through a hired gun?
I don't think so unless he's got debts we can't see. He was under the
impression that he would be running Pendragon right now. He may have
made promises. I'll keep digging."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. At some point, I might have to see to it
myself. That's what he wanted, after all, my attention.
"While we're at it, let's pull another background check on Becker too,” I
suggested.
Lakewood swiped a hand through his hair. "It doesn't make sense. He
needed the deal with you to go through. He had no reason to take her out,
his own daughter. I mean, he's a selfish prick, but he doesn't hate her."
"Right now, we have to consider everyone. While we're at it, pull a full
background on every single person who's close to her. Let's do it again."
Rowan rubbed the back of his neck and glanced up at Pierce. I caught
the look. The one that said that I was grasping at straws here.
"You guys think I don't realize that I'm getting a little desperate?” I
asked. “I am. I readily admit it. But the thing is, we don't have anything.
You guys haven’t turned up jack shit."
Pierce cleared his throat. "Easy does it, Atticus."
 Gavin just watched the whole thing, sucked in a deep breath, and
muttered, "He’s right. Check everyone. All of us too."
Lakewood laughed, but Gavin stopped him with a look before he
continued. "One of us, at some point, must have come in contact with
somebody who knows something, who has seen something. We are the
closest people to Atticus. If someone is trying to get to him through Gwen,
it makes sense to put us under the microscope. Toss everyone that has even
looked at Gwen for the last year. She didn't seem to have any trouble
directed at her specifically until London. So maybe we start with what
happened between the breakup and when Atticus went to get her. Because
something changed. And we have to figure out what it was. Anything out of
the ordinary, that's what we need to dig through."
I hated to admit it, but he was right. We’d missed something, and we
needed to start with the time that I didn't want to think about. What had
happened after I broke Gwen's heart? And by sending her away, what the
hell did that trigger?
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 14
GWEN

W hat were they doing in there?

I’d heard laughter and then what sounded like some back-slapping, and
then suddenly it sounded tense. Not that I was listening in on their
conversations or anything, because that was beneath me. If I wanted to
know what was going on, I would just walk in. After all, this was my house,
wasn't it?
You're a chicken.
Yes, I was a chicken. And maybe I had invented work I needed to do. I
surreptitiously glanced back at my laptop. I did not have that much work to
do. I had mostly sorted out Jack and the disarray he'd put my team into
already. Got the releases back on track, sewed the ruffled feathers, and I
was in control again. Oh, God, it felt good. And Jack… Well, Jack was
trying to be what he liked to call helpful. But Jack needed to just do the
work I had already assigned him.
Next on the docket was looking at all the proposals before the board,
and my eyeballs were crossing. This was so important, and I wanted to get
it right. The future of the company, hundreds of people, hell, thousands
across the world were depending on me getting this right, and it just felt like
so much pressure. I was slowly pouring through perspectives and getting
the lay of the land, but God, every time I sat down to even think about it,
my eyeballs started to cross, and all I wanted to do was sleep. But I wasn't
telling Atticus that. He had given me his company, every share he had. It
was a symbol of trust and love, and I wasn't going to let him down. But he
was over there distracting me with all of his friends over. No doubt
discussing me. Why didn't I get an invite to the round table meeting?
My phone dinged on my bed, and I did a flying plop to reach it.
Sissy Face: Where are you?
Me: Home, why? Are you doing something fun?
Sissy Face: Well, I was meant to be enjoying myself at this lounge, but
DJ Akimbo is playing. And it's actually pretty awesome, except dick face is
here, and he's staring at me.
I scrunched my eyes, trying to ascertain which of the guys she’d told me
about recently was called dick face. They all had nicknames, but it hurt my
head trying to figure out which one had likely pissed her off and got his
previous name changed. Like, pizza guy, or bought-me-coffee guy, and now
was known as dick face.
Me: Sorry, it doesn't ring a bell. Which one?
Sissy face: The one dad introduced me to. The one I said was cute. I've
changed my mind. He's not cute. He's annoying.
Me: Oh, the one who keeps calling you all the time?
Sissy face: Yes, him. He's here and staring at me from the bar. He tried
to buy me a drink, and I declined. He seemed pissed off, and now he is
giving me the creeps.
Me: At the risk of sounding like your uncool sister, maybe it's time to
leave? Go home.
Sissy face: No, it's Lisa's birthday, and we haven't done the cake and
shit yet. It's fine. I can manage, but oh God, he really is creeping me out.
 My first instinct was to change and head down to the bar to provide
extra protection. Protection that I myself apparently needed because
somebody was trying to shoot at me, so that wasn't going to work.
But wait… you have six available very large men at your disposal. Hell,
technically, tonight, you have nine. There are two more on the elevator
downstairs and one in the lobby. You could roll deep.
I stared at my phone again. It would be nothing. I could just go get her.
Except, there's no way Atticus lets you go. And you are likely
overreacting.
Was I overreacting though?
Me: No joke, Morgan, are you scared?
Sissy Face: He's come to the table and now he's standing right next to
me. I'm really, really uncomfortable.
Well fuck. I bounced off the bed as I typed.
Me: Sit tight, we're coming to get you.
I then marched toward the study in my camisole and short-shorts. I had
already taken off my bra, and my shorts look more like boy-cut panties than
actual workout shorts, and I could imagine the face that Atticus would
make.
I paused briefly to go back and grab sweats to throw on over them,
sliding a hoodie over my hair, which just made it look like a rat's nest, but I
would fix that later.
I almost knocked on the study door like I didn't live there. But instead, I
opened it, poking my head in, and six heads whipped around in my
direction. "Gentlemen, sorry to interrupt."
Atticus's face lit up like a Christmas tree. It wasn't so much his smile,
which he did give, the slow one that sort of snuck out like a thief in the
night and quickly turned into something that looked like he was thinking
about the last time he licked me, which was this morning. In the car. On the
way to work.
 Lance was up in a second, and I was shocked and happy to see him. "I
thought you said that something came up,” I said as I walked over to him.
"Yes, I got pulled into something, but I'm here." He gave me a tight
squeeze, lifting me off my feet, and I could hear the growl coming from
Atticus.
When Lance released me, I looked around his arm to see Micah keeping
Atticus in his seat.
My brother-in-law winked at me. All the other guys stood and gave me
brief hugs, which again made Atticus growl. When I gave Micah a tight hug
and he kissed me on top of my head, Atticus was less growly, but he
muttered under his breath, "Do you have to touch her?"
Micah just chuckled. And then when I reached my husband, he dragged
me onto his lap. "Ah, that's better."
"Atticus, baby, I can't sit on your lap while you guys are having… I
don't know, what is this? A boys' meeting?"
"I'm just getting an update on everything."
"I would argue about how come I wasn't called in for an update as well,
but we have bigger fish to fry right now."
My favorite smile disappeared. "What do you mean?" he asked gruffly.
"It's Morgan. She texted me. Remember that guy she was talking about
the other day when you brought me home?"
Atticus's brow furrowed as he tried to process the information. "What
guy? She didn't mention a guy."
Lance got very interested at that moment. "What guy? Morgan? She
doesn't have any guys. Who could stand her for longer than ten minutes?"
I rolled my eyes. "It's the guy that my dad introduced her to."
Interestingly, it was Micah who remembered him. "Yeah, the one who
had a clingy had-to-keep-calling problem. I have a workup on him."
"Right. Well, I don't think we need a workup, but he is at the lounge,
club, or wherever Morgan is, and he's creeping her out. So I'm going to⁠—"
 Before I could even say anything else, Atticus was standing with me in
his arms. He planted me gently on my feet. "Micah, watch her. I'm going to
get Morgan."
I blinked rapidly. "No, you don't have to do that. I was just coming to
tell you that I was going to get her. Yes, I will take the bodyguards, and yes,
I will be careful, but I just need to go and get my sister."
He gave me a look that I didn’t enjoy being on the receiving end of. It
was cold and icy. And well, pissed off.
No, that wasn't pissed off. That was… hurt? But why was he hurt?
"She's my sister too now, so I'm going to get her and keep you safe at
the same time. I'm not going to invite trouble we don't need. So please, do
me a favor. Stay here."
The other lads stood up.
"Atticus, she's not going to appreciate a hoard of hot men walking in to
ruin her evening. Be reasonable."
Gavin grinned at me. "So, you think I'm hot."
Atticus sliced him a look so cold that Gavin stepped back and put his
hands up. "Just kidding, man. Just kidding."
Lance rolled his shoulders. "I'm going with you."
I laughed. "Lance, don't go with him. That's crazy. Besides, you can't
save Morgan. That will really piss her off."
He then gave me a similar look to Atticus's. But this one held more pain.
"I might think she's a pain in the ass, but she's kind of my pain in the ass, so
if someone is bothering her, we need to fix it."
"Okay, fine, you two can go, but be discreet for fuck's sake. She won't
like it. She'll be embarrassed. I just want her to know she has back up,
okay? Lance, don't let Atticus do anything insane."
Lance just shrugged.
My husband reached out and kissed me on the temple. "Why didn't you
ask me to go get her?"
 "What? Isn't that what I just did?"
He shook his head. "No, you came to tell me that you were going. And
then you acted like she wasn't my family too."
His voice was so low the others couldn't hear it. They were already
dispersing, quickly taking assignments of what they were going to do next
about trying to find whoever the hell was trying to kill me.
"Atticus, I—" But he was gone already with Lance on his heels. I
glanced at my brother-in-law, who gave me a weak smile.
"He was just grumpy. Look, we didn't exactly have the best dad, as you
know. Atticus has to feel like he's saving everyone. You know that. He will
always volunteer, but he wants you to feel like you can ask, I guess. It's the
better way to say that."
I sighed. "I just didn't think about it. I'm used to solving my own
problems."
"Well, now you don't have to. You have six very good-looking men who
are eager to do your bidding."
He gave me a little bow, and I laughed. "You lose the effect of saying
very good-looking, if he's not here to hear it."
Micah winked. "Hey, I have to boost my own ego somehow."
"Right. So when he gets home, I'll fix it."
"I think it'll be a pretty easy fix. He loves you."
"Yeah, I know. I just hope that whatever is going on at the club isn't too
serious. The last thing I want is for Atticus to get hurt."
"Really?” Micah laughed but then sobered quickly. “The thing you
should probably worry about is Atticus hurting someone else. Especially if
he thinks his family is under threat. He would do anything to protect you
and your sister."
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 15
ATTICUS

W e took the M aybach . And as the tires slid over the rain-slick streets, I
slid a glance over at Lakewood. "So, you want to tell me why you're
coming with me to get Morgan?"
He didn't even look at me. "She's like my sister. Why wouldn't I come if
some creep is all over her?"
"No, I mean, that's why I'm going. But are you sure that's why you're
going?"
He turned to me at that point. "Excuse me, weren't you the one insisting
I was in love with your wife?"
I shrugged nonchalantly. "I think you were. Or at least thought you
were. I don't blame you either. Gwen is gorgeous. And too kind for her own
good. Not to mention brilliant. She keeps me on my toes, and she is funny
without trying to be. So yeah, of course, I assume everyone is in love with
her. Except, I think a part of you, maybe, is in love with the idea of her, but
that's because you have a soft spot for her. And you do love her; you’re just
not in love with her, and I didn't see it until now."
He narrowed his gaze at me. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
 I chuckled low under my breath. "Right, I'm not talking about anything.
I am relieved that you're not in love with Gwen. And you should be relieved
too. It makes me hate you less."
"I don't give a fuck if you hate me."
"Sure, you do. I am your boss."
"Well, technically, Gwen is my boss. And now she’s your boss too,
so…" He let his voice trail.
He had a point about that. Given that she had majority shares in my
company, she could fire me at will. So I supposed she was my boss.
"Okay, fair point. But I do control your movement, so you still want me
on your good side. And I like you now. Well, like is a strong word. But you
get the idea."
"Morgan is also a kid, you know that, right?” he asked.
I sucked in a slow steady breath. "She is young. She's eighteen and
needs to see the world a little. Maybe in a couple of years, but if I at all
thought you were a creep, I'd be beating your ass."
"I'm not into Morgan."
I opted to let it go then. Far be it from me to tell the man what he
wanted. He'd see it eventually. And then I would get the satisfaction of
saying I told you so.
I pulled up to the club and tossed the valet my keys and a fresh bill from
my wallet. The bouncer looked like he might try to dissuade us, but the
hostess came running immediately and whispered something in his ear, and
then he moved aside the velvet rope for us. Because of course he would.
When I spotted Morgan, I immediately noticed some asshole had her
pinned at the bar, both hands on either side of her.
Hell, I didn't even get the chance to say shit before Lance was on the
move.
"Lakewood, come the fuck⁠—"
 Lance didn't hear a word. He just peeled the idiot off and dragged him
by the collar far the hell away from Morgan. He was taking him toward the
back. I took Morgan's hand, and we had no choice but to follow.
Behind me, Morgan squeaked, "What the fuck? Where did you guys
come from?"
"Your sister filled us in."
"Gwen?"
"Yeah, you have another sister?" I asked loudly over the din of the
music.
"She worries too much. I thought she would just come."
"Well…" I pulled her past the throng of people waiting for the
bathrooms. "You're her sister, so now you’re my sister, and I need to protect
you both. So it's me."
She blinked rapidly, her dark eyes welling up with tears. "Um, thanks.
He wouldn't take no for an answer. And Atticus⁠—"
I could see her getting more agitated by the second.
"H-he knows where I live. And he said—" She dragged in a quick, sharp
breath. "He said that I could play hard-to-get all I wanted, but he knew
where I lived and he would come and see me."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "Well, he can try and see you all he wants, but you'll
find that Park Tower is heavily guarded, and he won't make it past the
lobby."
"Fuck, I don't live there. I live in the dorm."
"Not anymore, you don't."
Outside, Lance had the piece of shit up against the wall with his arm
across his neck. The other guy took a swing, which Lance ducked easily.
"Goddamn it, Lance, let him go,” Morgan cried. “You're only going to
get yourself hurt."
I had to drag Morgan back because she was trying to jump into the fray.
Lance ignored her.
 "Lakewood, that's enough."
"Oh, is that what you said when you found out about Bronson?" He
released the guy. Then the kid tried to take a swipe at him, and Lakewood
landed an uppercut that snapped his jaws together and cocked his head back
like a fucking Pez dispenser.
I couldn't help it. My brows lifted, and I sucked in a short breath,
because I knew that was going to hurt.
The dipshit stumbled and tried to brace himself against the wall, but
Lance was behind him and put him in a chokehold as he growled low in his
ear. "If I ever find you near her again, I swear to God, I will fucking kill
you."
Beside me, Morgan sucked in a sharp gasp. I knew Gwen would be
pissed if I let Lakewood kill someone. "Lakewood, ease up. We're not
killing anyone today. It's a messy clean-up job. And then we have to worry
about, you know, alibis and all that bullshit. I also don't know where the
security camera is around here. So, you know, let's leave the murdering to
another dark alley later where there are likely no cameras, okay?"
Next to me, Morgan breathed out his name. "Lance."
And his gaze skittered up, meeting hers.
She was the one who got through to him, and he slowly eased up on the
guy's neck as dipshit sank to the ground, gasping for breath.
He gazed at Morgan, and I could see the obsession there. But then his
gaze skittered to mine, which gave me a sense of satisfaction that he was
aware of his surroundings again. And I hadn't even had to use my fists.
"You heard what he said, dipshit. He'll kill you. I, on the other hand,
won't kill you if I see you again. I'll bury you somewhere, chained, and
starving probably, and slowly torture you like the cruel sadistic bastard I
am." I inclined my head to Lakewood. "Him, he's the nice one. He doesn't
even like her, and that's what he's willing to do to you. Know that he's dead
serious. To me, she's fucking family. If you come after her, you will pay.
Not only with your life, but with your livelihood and your soul. She is mine
to protect. Are we clear?"
He narrowed his gaze at me and then looked back to Morgan, but Lance
stopped in his line of sight. "No, asshole, you don't even look at her. You
look at him. When he’s finished ruining your life, you'll be begging for me
to end it."
And then dipshit began scooting backward, jumped to his feet, and ran.
When I was sure he’d kept running, I turned to Morgan. "Are you okay,
kid?"
She had her arms wrapped around her. "He's a psychopath. He'll come
back, won't he?"
I wanted to tell her no. I wanted to tell her that we'd keep her safe, but I
knew that wasn't the case. For now, she needed to feel safe. And then I
would figure out a long-term plan for dipshit. "Look, for now, let's get you
home to the penthouse. You'll spend the night. It'll give your sister peace of
mind, so she'll actually sleep, and in the morning, we'll take you to the
police station and file a report. A restraining order should do the trick. I will
have Pierce and Micah deal with your tech. New number, new email, all
that stuff. Okay?"
She nodded slowly, her eyes skittering back to Lance.
I turned to find him standing like a statuary, glowering into the darkness
of the alley as if waiting for more trouble to come. "Lakewood, she's all
right. Let's go."
He didn't turn to look at Morgan, but when he spoke, I knew he was
talking to her. "Next time you see him, don't call your sister. You call me, do
you understand?"
His voice was a low growl, and I swore I had never heard Lakewood
sound like that ever about Gwen. He might not realize that he was into
Morgan, which would be peace of mind for me and probably Gwen, but he
was. And at some point, that was going to bubble over, and it was going to
be messy, considering their volatility.
Her voice trembled. "Yeah, okay, I understand."
It was only then that he turned around to face us. It was almost like he'd
put the mask back on. That even-keeled, easy-going version of Lance
Lakewood was back. But I could see now that wasn't really Lance. The real
him was just underneath with barely concealed rage and something else that
ran deep. He would protect Morgan with his life. And maybe even more
fiercely than he’d protected Gwen when I sent her to him. Maybe I had
underestimated him after all.
"Come on, Morgan, let's go,” I said, putting an arm around her
shoulders. “And if you're good, I'll let you think of all the ways that we
could ruin dipshit's life."
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 16
ATTICUS

A fter we dropped L akewood off , I led Morgan through the lobby of the
Park Tower, watching her carefully. "Are you okay?" I asked.
"You can stop asking me that."
"I know. I just figured maybe it was scary. Do you like, want to talk or
something?"
My sister-in-law laughed. "What? We're going to become besties now,
are we, Atticus?"
I shrugged as I pushed the elevator button. "I don't know. Maybe."
She eyed me warily. "I guess I just feel stupid. And God, I really hate
the fact that Lance saw me like that."
"Lance didn't see you like anything. He saw some guy overstepping,
and he acted like any good guy would."
"Yeah, but he is Gwen's best friend. He has seen me do some stupid
teenage shit. Like once, I went to a friend's party and maybe, just maybe,
over indulged on the alcohol. I needed Gwen to come rescue me, which was
embarrassing to say the least."
"She's your sister. She loves you."
 "Yeah, but she brought Lance. And well, you can imagine. Lance
thought I was the biggest idiot he'd ever seen." We stepped in the elevator
and she leaned against the back wall as she talked.
"You know, I don't think you see Lance as clearly as you think you do."
"Oh, I see him and all his judgment. He acts like he was never young.
Except Gwen has shown me the pictures of his blitzed-out drunk days. And
how do you even get drunk like that? Anyway, he's like a very judgy big
brother."
I nodded. "Right, big brother."
"He's always in my shit."
"Well, I can promise that I will not always be in your shit unless I think
you're going to get yourself hurt. And then, well, I might get brotherly."
She grinned at me. "You know, I’ve said it before, but I think you're
actually really good for Gwen."
I gave her a look of surprise. "Well, you've never said it to me before, so
thanks, I guess."
"And she's good for you too. She makes you more, I don't know,
human?"
"At least there is that."
She shrugged. "Well, you're a bit stiff."
I rolled my eyes. "Wow, tell me how you really feel."
"You're like a hot robot."
"Ooouch." I clutched my heart, acting wounded. But she was right,
obviously. "Damn, I have to remember to keep my wits around the Becker
girls."
"Nah, Gwen is all googly-eyed about you. She'd never hurt your
feelings and call you a robot to your face."
"Oh yes, she has. But she had a point. She wanted me to feel my
feelings."
Morgan grinned. "And did you tell her to feel her feelings too?"
 "You know what's interesting? She was less inclined to do so than I
was."
"Yeah well, we haven't exactly been taught that feeling our feelings is a
safe space. But in the interest of making my therapist happy, thank you for
coming to get me. I was scared."
I gave her a soft smile. "That's fair. And if I were you, I would have
been scared too. Sorry if we came off a little heavy-handed."
"No, you were great. Lance was the heavy-handed one. You don't
actually think he would kill him, do you?"
I watched her closely for a moment. She really had no idea. Okay then,
this is going to be entertaining to watch over the next several years.
"Probably not on purpose.” It's not how Lakewood rolled. But truth be told,
I had also underestimated him. So I didn't think he would have murder-
murdered him, but accidental murder? Sure. It was possible.
"Wow, he really needs some anger management classes."
I choked on a laugh.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
I studied her. She was smart, but Lakewood was right. She was a kid.
She didn’t see it. "The way you two dance around each other is funny."
"We do not dance around each other. He's a pain in the ass. And who
assigned him as my big brother anyway? Because I don't need a big
brother."
I grinned at her. "Well, you have one now."
"You don't count. You don't know me nearly as well as he does.
Sometimes I just want to put a fist to his face."
I assessed her. "Do you even know how to make a fist?"
"How hard can it be? Men do it all the time."
I winced at that. "I hope that is something you do not practice. However,
if you want to learn, I can have one of the boys start working with you on
self-defense."
 Her eyes went wide. "Oh, like Krav Maga and shit?"
"Yes, I have a trainer. It's actually not the worst idea in the world for
you and Gwen to get some basic self-defense training."
"Oh my God, yes. Dad would never let us do anything like that. He said
that we were girls, so we should be ladylike. I don't know what he thought
was going to happen, but I guess he didn't want us to be seen as angry black
females, so he really prided himself on instilling extra femininity."
"That is so bullshit."
"Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong, but he's also not entirely right."
What the hell did I know? And why had I never asked Gwen about any
of this?
"Okay, in that case, let me be a good big brother. Would you like to
learn?"
"How to take care of myself? Yeah. I guess I wouldn't feel so helpless,
like having to call my big sister to come and rescue me."
I nodded. "Okay, that is something I can definitely help to take care of."
"You're serious? You'll teach me?"
"Um, not me personally, but yeah, we can figure something out."
"Oh my God, that is actually really cool of you."
The elevator reached the top floor, and I got my eyes scanned to open
the doors. When asked for additional identification due to the weight of the
elevator, I had Morgan come over for a thumbprint. "Well, it's a little late,” I
said, “so I don't know if Gwen is still up. But you know where the guest
room is, right?"
"You mean one of the five?"
"Yes. Just pick one. Micah is in one of them, so you might want to
knock before you walk in because God only knows what he might be doing
in there."
She hesitated in the foyer as I dropped my keys in the bowl. "Um, I
know I said it before, but thanks and shit."
 "Of course. And Morgan, I meant it when I said I would like us to be
closer. Not just for Gwen, but for me. I feel like I could learn a lot from
you."
Her grin was so reminiscent of Gwen's, and it lit up her entire face. Dual
dimples peeking out, making you instantly feel warm inside. I was going to
have to lock her up in here. The guys were going to be knocking on the
door, and I would definitely need to add more security, but it would need to
be discreet. Because even more than Gwen, Morgan needed freedom. She
needed to be as free as possible to figure out who the hell she was going to
be, and she couldn't do that with a close watch.
"Now you’re giving me a worried look. What’s that all about?" she
asked playfully.
"Nothing. It's just that I've only had a baby brother. I mostly just played
swords with him, so I want to know what to do with a sister. You'll need to
teach me that, too."
"Oh my God, it's going to be awesome,” she said with a laugh. “Let me
paint your toenails."
I shook my head. "I regret this already."
"I'm just fucking with you. But we're going to do some little sister-big
brother activities. We're going to pick one weekend a month where you do
everything I'd say."
"Yep, I'm really going to regret this,” I muttered.
"No, you won't. It will make you more human. Besides, it'll be stuff that
you can deal with. We’ll include Gwen too. It will help you open up your
mind. Hell, you should totally join Micah's romance novel reading club. I
mean it. The one we're reading right now is a hacking romance where the
girl is also a vampire."
My brows lifted. "Wait, she's a hacker and a vampire? Is her love
interest a vampire too?"
 She rolled her eyes at me like I was a moron, because honestly, this
couldn't be real. "No, he's a werewolf of course, hello."
Oh my God. How did I get out of this conversation?
She pumped her eyebrows. “Think of it as urban fantasy with lots of
spice."
I swallowed hard. None of this made any sense. "You know what, I
don't want to know about you reading spice. What the hell has Micah got
you reading?"
"Oh please, I was reading these books long before he was. And I
recommended this book to him."
The way her eyes danced, I knew she was deadly serious. "You know
what? It’s bedtime. Down the hall that way, every bedroom has a bathroom,
and there are always spare toothbrushes and toothpaste and a couple of
different sets of pajamas in the closet.”
But I didn't need to direct her anywhere because Gwen was lying on the
couch, and the moment she heard the sound of Morgan's shoes on the floor,
she sat up. "Oh, there you guys are. Morgan, are you okay?"
Morgan nodded and then went over and gave her sister a raspberry on
the cheek. "I'm fine. Atticus and Lance came to get me."
Gwen glanced around the two of us. "Where's Lance?"
"We dropped him off at home."
"Home? Is he at a hotel or something?" she asked, obviously confused.
I shook my head. "No, he kept his apartment. I guess he assumed he
might be back."
"Right. But I thought he'd rented it out."
"I guess not. Anyway, we're back. Morgan is going to be staying here
for a while."
Gwen blinked at me rapidly. "How long is a while?"
Morgan exchanged a glance with me. "Um, Atticus was saying that
maybe I should stay here so you guys could keep an eye on me. Keep me
out of trouble."
I could see what she was doing. But I let her do it. "Yeah, I figured
you'd be happier if she was here. And the subway goes straight down to
NYU. She doesn't need to stay in the dorm."
"Yeah, no sharing showers,” Morgan said with a giggle. “I’d planned to
move off campus anyway, but if I can stay here with the sauna and the
massage room, then why not do that?"
Gwen just laughed. "Well, it’ll be great to have you here. It's not like we
don't have room." She just looked so at peace and happy. I wanted her to
look like that all the time.
Morgan came back over and launched herself at me, and I had to think
fast and catch her quick. She leaned up, clearly expecting me to bend down.
And when I did, she gave me a raspberry. A wet, slobbery raspberry. Then
she jumped down and gave me a wink. "Thanks, big bro. I appreciate the
rescue."
Before I knew it, she was skipping off to a guest room. She picked the
one next to Micah, because apparently, she was going to Morse Code him
some of the pages of the books they were reading so that he could hurry up
and get to the good part.
Whatever that meant.
When I turned my gaze to my wife, she had tears in her eyes. "You
invited her to come live with us?"
I shrugged. "For as long or as little as she wants. I didn't know how you
were going to feel about that, but I figured it would make you happy. You
love having her around. You worry about her. It's cool. And this way, you
can keep an eye on her comings and goings."
"How bad was it?" Her voice was soft when she asked.
"Nothing I couldn't handle. And Morgan was handling it pretty great
herself. Surprisingly, it was Lance who didn’t handle it well. He threatened
to kill the guy."
 Gwen winced and sat up straighter. "Oh, shit. That doesn’t sound like
Lance."
"It's fine. I didn't let him kill anyone."
"Well, I appreciate that, because had it been you, you might have killed
him."
"Lance seems very protective of your little sister."
Her gaze landed on mine and held. "So, you're thinking what I'm
thinking?"
I shrugged. "Yeah, I’m thinking he has a thing for her. He feels weird
about it because she's still so young."
"I feel a little weird about it too, but it's like a tangible thing in the air.
Like when they're in the room together, you can feel that crackle. I don't
think it's avoidable, but we'll stay out of it."
"Okay," I said, climbing over the back of the couch to join her after I
took off my shoes.
She was smashed underneath me, and she giggled. "Atticus Price, we
now have an impressionable young mind in the house. We need to be a little
bit more careful."
"Well, do you even know what kind of dirty shit Micah and your sister
are reading? There's a werewolf, and he's in love with a vampire. He plays
hockey. I don't know what that has to do with anything, but apparently,
there are spicy parts. And she recommended the book to him. Honestly, I
am traumatized. If I had pearls, I would clutch them. I don't think either one
of them is going to care, but I'm going to finger my wife on this couch right
now."
Gwen's gasp was soft. "Who said you could finger me? You didn’t let
me go get my sister."
My hand reached under the blanket and traced up her thigh. She was
wearing shorts. Apparently, she'd lost the sweatpants after I left and was
back in those little shorts that hugged her ass just so.
 "You know the words to say to make me stop."
She squirmed beneath me, lifting her hips, trying to guide my fingers
where they already wanted to go.
"You don't need to do that, Ness; I know the way." I nuzzled her neck
and nipped, finding her sweet pussy and tracing a thumb over her clit. "See?
I told you I knew my way."
She groaned. "Atticus..."
"Say the word if you want me to stop."
"Morgan is going to catch us."
"I think your sister is smart enough to know that if you are on the couch
and we're in the same room together, that she should make lots of noise
before coming back out."
I waited for her to say no. But when she rolled her hips against my
thumb again, my fingers dipped under her shorts and found her sweet pussy
wet and slick.
"Fuck. I love how you're always ready for me."
"This is hardly fair,” she muttered.
"Who said I was playing fair? Are you still mad at me?"
She bit her lip. "Maybe I’ll just put a pin in my annoyance for now."
I nipped at her neck. "That’s a very good idea, Ness." My thumb slid
over her clit again. Fuck, all I wanted to do was slide her shorts off and sink
into her on the couch. Damn whoever might see or hear anything.
Just the idea of my hand clamped over her mouth to keep her quiet
while she came around my cock had me rocking my hips against her.
"You're using sex to speed up my forgiveness,” she teased.
"Maybe, but you want to forgive me. I'm still going to make you come
on my fingers and maybe my cock. Or maybe I'll just rub up against you
like we would have in high school."
Her hips lifted then. "You know how I love a good dry humping. There's
something so forbidden and sexy in it."
 "Then dry humping it is. But first, come on my fingers."
"Okay, fine. I'm on my way to forgiving you. But you're going to have
to give me many more orgasms first."
"Done deal. Now spread your thighs, baby. I want to make this good."
I slipped my hand further beneath the waistband of her shorts, my
fingers making contact with the warm fevered flesh they sought. She
gasped, a tiny jolt of surprise that quickly melted into a moan of
anticipation. "Oh, Atticus, don't tease."
"Teasing's part of the game, love," I breathed back, my thumb circling
her clit once more before dipping lower to enter her.
I kissed the skin of her neck, trailing my lips up to whisper in her ear.
"I love making you moan, Ness."
She groaned once more, pushing against my fingers. My digits were
slick with desire as they slipped inside her, finding that sweet spot that
always made her gasp and writhe beneath me. She was close already. I
could tell by the hitch in her breath and the way she clung to my arm for
support.
"Atticus," she whimpered, tipping her head back as I increased the
pressure on her clit.
"Shhh," I murmured against her skin, the taste of her salty sweat sweet
on my lips. "We wouldn't want your sister to hear, would we? Or worse,
Micah." Nipping at her ear, I added. “Or is that what you want? For him to
hear you?”
She whimpered again, biting her lip to silence herself. I nipped at her
earlobe, my fingers sinking further into her warm depths. She was slick and
hot around me, and the urge to replace my hand with something far more
satisfying was nearly overwhelming.
Her body stiffened briefly underneath me, her grip on my shoulder
tightening as she shook her head vehemently. "Oh, Atticus," she managed to
whisper between gasps for air.
 "Good," I murmured against her neck, my fingers moving inside her
with a rhythm that we’d both come to know so well.
Her breath hitched again as I hit just the right spot. "Oh God, Atticus,"
she whimpered, her back arching off the couch.
Reaching down, I used my other hand to tug the waistband of her shorts
down enough to slide my fingers out and over the bare skin of her ass.
With a newfound vigor, I moved my fingers inside her once more, this
time spreading them apart to touch her in just the right way.
"Atticus." Her voice was little more than a breathless whisper now as
she gripped onto me tighter. "I-I'm going to…"
"Shhh," I chuckled into her ear, my lips brushing against the shell of it.
“Hold it, love. Hold on for just a bit longer.” I coaxed her with my
words while my thumb went back to work on her clit.
She writhed beneath me, whispering my name like a prayer as I pushed
her closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure.
And then, she broke.
Her climax echoed through the room silently, save for the quiet
whispers of our names escaping each other’s lips. She trembled in my arms,
sticky with sweat but glowing with satisfaction, my fingers still buried deep
inside her.
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 17
GWEN

I couldn ’ t move .

All I could do was lay there with one leg hooked over the back of the
couch, my shorts dangling off one foot, my legs quivering, with Atticus’s
fingers buried in my pussy and one grazing my asshole.
“Oh my God. I think you broke me,” I whispered.
Atticus kneeled between my thighs, his gaze locked onto how he had
my lips spread, and he pumped his fingers into me again. “There’s nothing
fucking sexier than watching you squeeze around me, Ness.”
He grinned at me wickedly, his fingers still deep inside me. His thumb
circled my clit in a slow, torturous rhythm that had my breath hitching. My
hand clutched at the back of the couch.
"Atticus." I hissed his name as my body tensed, a fire spreading from
my core and winding its way throughout my limbs. His fingers quickened
their pace, pushing me closer to the edge.
Then he removed his fingers from me, putting them into his mouth and
sucking on them while continuing to gaze down at me. The sight left me
breathless and wanting more.
 “Does my sweet pussy miss me already?” Atticus’s voice was pure
gravel as he spoke. His movements were jerky as he yanked out his belt
then unzipped his jeans.
“Yes,” I whimpered, my responding shiver apparently the answer he
was seeking. His hands moved to his waistband, pulling the fabric down to
reveal his hard length. I gasped at the sight, my gaze locked onto him.
A devilish grin spread across his face, and he grazed his thumb over my
clit once more for good measure. “You’re gonna feel how much I’ve missed
you.”
With that, he positioned himself at my entrance, his length teasing my
swollen lips. My breath hitched in anticipation as he leaned in, his mouth
crashing onto mine in a fierce kiss before he slid his length against me.
“Ah, fuck…” His voice was rough, strained as he slid against me. Every
inch of him slid against my pussy, making me cry out at the sweet
sensation. Slowly, he began to move in long deep strokes that sent waves of
pleasure cascading through me.
“Is this what we would have done if I’d known you as a teenager?” he
whispered. “Would I have snuck into your room?”
Oh God, his words had me lifting my hips. “God, I need this.”
His teeth nipped my neck as he rubbed against me, his cock sliding
through my folds. “You were a good girl then, weren’t you? You would
have wanted to stay a virgin. But maybe I could have tempted you to get
close.” He groaned against my lips.
The grind of his hips and his words were exquisite. He shoved his hands
in my hair and tugged, angling my neck back. Then he delved his tongue
inside my mouth as my nails dug into his shoulders.
His words, his touches, everything he was doing to me was driving me
insane. I could feel every nerve in my body singing for him, begging for
more. My hands flew up his back, clawing at the fabric of his shirt. He
groaned against my mouth, a sound that shot straight to my core.
 "I would have passed every test just to be with you," I confessed
between breaths. My voice came out shaky and desperate, matching the
trembling desire coursing through my body. "Even if it wasn't… all the
way."
His breath hitched at my words, his rhythm faltering for a moment
before he pushed harder against me, earning a moan from both of us.
"Jesus, Ness," he murmured into my ear. "We would've been unstoppable."
I laughed breathlessly at that. "We could've set the world on fire. There
is no way just feeling you against me would have been enough."
“Never enough. Fuck, you would have had me on my knees just at the
hope of my dick touching your softness.” He chuckled against my earlobe
before nipping at it gently. His thrusts grew more desperate, more
passionate, as if each word that left my mouth spurred him on further.
"I would have memorized every inch of your body, Ness," he confessed
raggedly, his entire body shuddering against mine. The desperation in his
voice was mirrored by the frantic rhythm he set, our bodies rocking together
on the couch.
"Yeah, yeah, Atticus," I gasped out, my nails digging into his back as I
clung to him. His thrusts were relentless, driving me closer and closer to the
brink of ecstasy.
"And you would have driven me insane," he continued breathlessly.
"With your teasing and sultry smiles. I would have been hard for you every
damn day." His teeth grazed my exposed collarbone, drawing a shaky moan
from my lips.
Reaching between us, he pushed his cock down to tease my entrance,
shifting his weight so every slide of his cock threatened to finally penetrate.
“We would have said it was only teasing and we weren’t going to fuck, but
then naughty little thing that you are, you would have started begging for
just the tip,” he murmured as he dragged the head of his cock over my
entrance then kissed me thoroughly.
 At his words, a whimper strangled itself in my throat. His every word,
the weight of each syllable, was plunging me lower into a trance. It was as
if we were not here and now, but back then… teenagers sneaking around,
risking everything for a taste of forbidden fruit.
His thumb moved to rub my clit again, making my hips jerk upward.
My body was screaming for friction, demanding more than just words and
touches and teases.
"I would have," I confessed breathlessly. "I would have been begging
for you."
A moan escaped Atticus at the sound of my words echoing back his own
fantasies. He slid himself against me again, just skimming my entrance but
not penetrating. He relished torturing me with the imminent promise of
release.
"Damn, Ness," he muttered, his hot breath fanning on my neck. His
thrusts grew erratic, an indication that he was nearing the edge too.
"I would have done anything to feel you inside me," I said, my voice
barely above a whisper now. Even though we were reminiscing about what
could have been, it felt intimate and raw and real.
At that, Atticus let out a low growl. “Fuck, baby, I want to come so bad,
but I’m not going without you.”
His hand slid down to where his cock rubbed over my clit. His touch
was masterful, evoking a moan that tore from my throat. "Atticus..." I
whispered. My voice was hoarse, filled with the raw need that his words
and touch had ignited. His thumb took over, dragging me to the edge of
oblivion by force as he stroked his dick with his other hand.
I clutched his forearms for support as he grinned devilishly down at me.
When my orgasm snatched my soul, dragging me over the edge, I stiffened,
arching my back, a silent scream on my lips.
All I could do was watch in awe as Atticus stroked himself from root to
tip above me, his lips parted, harsh pants escaping as his eyes stayed glued
on my pussy.
His hand moved faster as his gaze remained fixated on my body. His
body was tight, the cords of muscle in his arm working rhythmically. I
could hear the erratic gasps escaping his lips, and I knew he was hanging on
by a thread.
His strokes quickened, every slide of his hand accompanied by a fervent
groan that echoed through the quiet room. I was still in the throes of my
own orgasm, my body shaking with aftershocks, sensations heightened by
the sight of him hovering over me.
“Look at me, Atticus. Give it to me.”
The tension built once again, my body sinking into the soft cushions of
our leather couch. His voice filled the room, desperation becoming more
evident with every breath he took. "I'm… I'm…" he stuttered, his grip
tightening on his hardness.
When Atticus came apart above me, his cry of release filled my ears
while his body shuddered uncontrollably over mine.
Hot spurts painted my belly as he continued to stroke himself through
the climax, watching as he painted my pussy and my belly in his cum.
Harsh breath still tearing out of him, he stroked two fingers over my
pussy lips, then brought them to my lips to taste them. When I peeked my
tongue out to lick his fingers, Atticus groaned through tightly clenched
teeth. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn pretty. I’m still hard. I’m not done. Can I,
baby? Will you let me push my cock into you?”
Holy shit.
"Atticus," I moaned, my fingers delving into his hair. "Please..."
With a groan, he gave in, pushing his length inside me so slowly I felt
every inch. A cry of pure bliss erupted from my throat as he finally seated
himself deep within me, where I needed him the most.
"Fuck, Ness," Atticus cursed, his voice filled with awe and adoration as
he began to move within me. The rhythm was slow and deliberate, every
stroke designed to drive me wild with pleasure and anticipation.
His hands cradled my face as he moved above me, looking down into
my eyes as he whispered sweet promises and sinful provocations that would
have driven a high school girl absolutely mad with desire.
"We would've been dangerous together." His voice was low, hot against
my flushed skin. "Driving each other crazy with need and desire.
Temptation always just a touch away."
"Always," I breathed out raggedly as his thrusts became more insistent.
"I would have given anything just to feel you like this."
Atticus's lips crashed onto mine, capturing my response in a heated kiss.
Our tongues mingled while his hand slid down my body in search of more.
He cupped my breast, his fingers circling the hardened bud before giving it
a firm squeeze. A loud moan escaped my lips at the action, and he chuckled
into my mouth, the vibration sending shivers down my body.
"God, you're so fucking sexy," Atticus growled as he pulled away from
our kiss only to attach his lips to the valley between my breasts. He gave
each nipple equal attention before moving lower and sliding out of me,
leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down my stomach.
His movements slowed when he reached the junction of my thighs, his
eyes darting up to hold my gaze. His facial expression was hard to read at
that moment. It was as if he was holding back a force that might rip him
apart.
"Will you let me taste you?" he asked in a voice that barely reached
above a whisper. I could feel him waiting for an answer, but I couldn’t find
the words. My mind was spinning and caught in the wave of desire that had
consumed us both.
Instead, I nodded. I swallowed dryly, my mouth felt like sandpaper. The
anticipation had been building up since we had fallen onto the sofa, and
now it was almost painful.
 Atticus wasted no time in fulfilling his promise, his tongue stroked over
me with a newfound hunger. His eyes stayed trained on mine as he worked
me over and over again with his mouth and fingers. Each stroke sent waves
of pleasure coursing through my veins, every touch seemed to ignite a part
of me that had been dormant for far too long.
The room filled with the sounds of our groans. I should care about what
Morgan could hear, but I was too far gone. My breath hitched on every
sensation, every slide of his tongue or push of his fingers brought me closer
to the edge. His name slipped from my lips in a needy plea, and my hands
tangled in his hair, holding him to me.
His tongue lapped at me faster, his fingers pumping into me in tandem
with his mouth. I gasped and whimpered, my body arching off the couch as
an orgasm rocked through me.
He was there, catching every moan and gasp, soothing me through the
waves of pleasure until I was boneless beneath him. His kisses were soft
then, trailing up my belly and breasts until he was kissing me again. His
tongue played lazily with mine, and it tasted like the two of us combined.
“Mine,” he murmured against my lips after breaking our kiss. There was
something different in his eyes when he gazed down at me this time. A
sense of finality that wasn’t there before.
Before I could respond, Atticus thrust back into me with a force that had
my breath hitching in surprise. His strokes were deliberate and hard, each
one hitting a spot deep within me, making me see stars behind my closed
eyelids.
“You’re mine,” he repeated again, like a mantra, his voice raw and filled
with emotion. Every thrust included the words you're mine like an oath or
pledge of his love. He claimed me over and over again until I surrendered to
him completely.
And then he finally collapsed above me, spent.
OceanofPDF.com
 18
GWEN

T wo days after Atticus brought my sister home, he still hadn’t let up on the
overprotective bit. Nope. My husband pinned me with a serious stare.
"You're to stay here, Gwen."
I frowned as the car squeezed into a tight spot at a warehouse in the
meat packing district.
"Oh my God, haven’t you gotten your need to be overbearing out of
your system for the day? You have a sister-in-law to smother now. Why do I
need to stay here? What's the worst that could happen? Besides, there's a
boutique down the way. I could just go and pop in there."
"Sven, stay with her."
"Yes, sir."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh my God, if you weren't going to let me do
anything, then what is the point in bringing me along?"
"You're doing something adjacent."
I narrowed my gaze. "Haven't we already had the discussion about how
you're supposed to include me in the plans?"
 "Yes, we have. And I'm including you. See, you're here, aren't you? I
didn't sneak out to do this on my own."
I whacked him on the shoulder. The man did not budge, though he did
give me the stupid dimples, which meant, 'Oh, God, aren't you cute?'
"But you're not letting me do anything."
"It's better if you don't. But this way, at least you get to hear about it
right away. On the ground, so to speak."
"I swear to God, I can murder you when you're asleep, you know."
"I am aware. You literally hold my dick in your hands. Constantly,” he
reminded me. “However, you haven't started your self-defense training yet,
so in case things get wild and crazy, I want to be the one who handles it."
"Atticus, you won't have a bodyguard with you if Sven stays with me."
"Yes, well, you're more likely to get in trouble than I am."
I scowled and watched as he strode toward the run-down apartment
building. It was wedged between two warehouses, and it looked like one of
those buildings where the landlord refused to give the property up to
developers while all around it the neighborhood was changing. I could
remember when the meatpacking district had been exactly what it sounded
like.
It had been one area of town where my father had forbidden us from
going when we were kids. But then somewhere along the way, it changed.
Much like everything else. Thanks to gentrification, fashion houses, and
avant-garde artists, everything changes eventually.
Atticus looked handsome as hell. He was wearing his peacoat, as there
was a chill in the air today. I knew for a fact that would eventually come
off, leaving him in a vest. All I wanted to do was peel his clothes off and
lick him.
You can do that later. At home.
Since we'd almost gotten caught by his assistant, Andrew, again, we'd
had to institute a new rule. No more fucking in the office. At least not
unless it was behind closed and locked doors.
When Atticus left the car, that cute ass climbing up the stairs with a
purpose, I sighed in the seat. "Sven, I know you're not going to let me in the
building, but can I at least get out of the car?"
Sven frowned, his slight Norwegian accent crisp and clear. "No, Miss.
Not wise."
And then a thought occurred to me. "Sven, you're an employee of
Pendragon, right? Or does Atticus employ you personally?"
“Technically, ma'am, I am an employee of Pendragon."
"Oh, that's excellent,” I said cheerfully. “So technically, I'm your boss."
I watched as his brow furrowed. "Well, I suppose since you are the
majority shareholder. But that does not mean⁠—"
I was out of the car in seconds.
“Mrs. Price, please get back in the car."
“I swear to God, I told you, Sven, call me Gwen."
"Gwen, get in the car,” he muttered.
"Now would you tell Atticus that, too?"
"If it's a safety concern, yes. I am technically under Mr. Trent’s
supervision. So I am really here for security."
"Ah, Pierce works for me, too. Isn't that great?"
"Ma’am, please." His sigh was exasperated.
"Oh. My. God." I rounded on him and stuck my finger in his chest. "If
you call me ma’am one more time, I swear to God, I'll deck you on the
spot."
"Sorry, Gwen. It's your safety, and I don’t think Mr. Price would like
you getting out of the car."
“I know he won't like it, but he's gone to talk to the kid. And if I know
kids, even if he's not in trouble, he's going to run. So let's go.”
"But Mr. Price said⁠—"
 "Yes, I know what he said. I also know he's gone to the front. And the
kid won't go that way when he runs. So come with me."
He sighed. "Mrs. Price."
"Hey, at least I didn't open the door and start running,” I reasoned.
"I'd be compelled at that point to run after you."
"God, you're so stodgy."
Sven nodded. "If you say so."
"I do. Now please, relax."
With Sven acting as my shadow basically, we went around the back of
the building, through the alley, and I could sense his discomfort. "What's
the problem, Sven? No one knows we're back here. No one is going to
shoot at me. I promise."
"You are vulnerable. Mr. Price won't like that."
"I promise it's okay. Besides, Atticus can't tell me what to do."
I watched the muscle in his jaw tick as if he wanted to argue but wasn't
going to bother.
And sure enough, as I'd predicted, the back door swung open and out
came the kid, running full tilt. He was so busy looking behind him for
Atticus that he didn't see me.
Unfortunately for him, Sven stepped directly in front of him, meaning to
stop him from running into me, and effectively clotheslined him.
Atticus came running out the back door behind him, startled when he
saw the two of us, and tripped over a garbage can.
Sven had the kid, but he wiggled out of his jacket, coming straight for
me. And as he attempted to maul through me like a defensive line, I stuck
out my foot and tripped him.
He went down hard on the asphalt, and I lowered myself next to him.
"You must be Philip Mangles. Listen, all we want to do is talk. There's no
need to run and get my husband and the bodyguard all upset. I'm Gwen. Do
you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?"
 Atticus looked irritated.
Sven looked like he would rather be anywhere but there. And the kid
looked like he wanted to throw up as he darted glances between Sven,
myself, and Atticus.
"Don't worry about them. The big Viking is paid to look annoyed. And
my husband… that's just his normal face."
I could tell in the twitch of Atticus's nose that he was tempted to laugh,
but he was perhaps too irritated with me in the moment. As for Sven, he
was just maintaining his Viking composure.
"What do you want with me?" The kid fidgeted, and I could tell he did
not want to be seen with us. Or he was tweaking. Maybe both.
"Look, a few weeks ago there was a shooting in front of the Park
Tower."
His face paled. "I had nothing to do with that. It wasn't me. I-I don't
even know how to shoot. I’ve never held a gun."
Sven stepped forward, and I planted my hand on his chest. The big
Swede stopped, but I doubt it was because I was strong. It was because my
husband was growling next to him.
"Both of you, shut it." I turned back to the kid. "You're not in trouble.
No one thinks you shot anyone. Technically, me." I indicated my shoulder.
"I took a bullet."
The kid's eyes widened in what could only be described as awe. "I didn't
shoot you."
"I know that. But I think you saw who did."
"Look, I don't know nothin' about nothin'. I just want to go home. I just
want to be left alone."
This time, Atticus did step forward. "Tell my wife what she wants to
know."
That little shiver that always skipped down my spine when he said 'my
wife' did its thing, and I thought it was a very inappropriate time for his
voice to be doing those things to me.
"My husband is just very particular about me getting shot. Just tell us
what you know."
The kid shifted his gaze to Sven, avoiding eye contact with Atticus, who
was inching closer the more he looked at me. "I-I've seen him around town.
He climbed into a car after looking at the building and then headed down
the street. Later I saw him hanging around the lobby of an office building
nearby. I always notice when he's there because I go to the doughnut shop
to see this girl I want to ask out."
Atticus gave him a steady-eyed glower that said, Get on with it.
"That lobby is crazy busy. Everyone is in suits and stuff, you know? So
that guy stood out. He just sat quietly in the window, staring at the building
across the street. I saw him again two weeks later. Never thought anything
of it. Even the night of the shooting, I didn't know he was up to no good.”
Atticus’s voice was low and full of gravel. “What were you doing
there?”
The kid shrugged. “I sometimes go up in the building, you know? Like
me and my friends would just go and fuck around there, smoke and shit."
Before Atticus could throttle the kid, I stepped in. "You’re not in
trouble. We just need you to tell us what you know."
The kid swallowed hard. "Anyway, he approached me and asked if I
knew a way in this building. He gave me a hundred bucks, so I showed
him.”
My heart hammered in my chest. "Did you get a good look at him? Like
really good? You've seen him in the light, right?"
The kid blinked rapidly, a small frown marring his forehead as if he just
realized the man he’d told us about was dangerous. "But like, if you're
telling me he's the shooter, then he knows my face too."
"He won't come for you. He's not looking for you. He is looking for
me," I whispered.
 “Shit. I never should have narced.” He tried to wiggle out of my hold.
He swallowed hard as he glanced at Atticus who growled low. “Let me go. I
saw nothing.”
"I’ve seen your face, and I promise you I am far more dangerous than
that shooter."
The kid's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and his pupils were pin
pricks in his blue-gray eyes. "Yeah, of course… I did see him. But it's not
like I have a picture or anything. Can't you get his image off the camera? In
the coffeeshop across the street from the building?"
The kid had a point. We didn't know who we were looking for.
Atticus nodded. "We're done here."
Sven held the kid's jacket out to him as if we'd been having a very
lovely exchange and now he was leaving.
"Thank you for your time,” I said. “I appreciate it."
He blinked at me owlishly. "That's it?"
"Yeah, that's it."
"And you're not going to tell him about me, right?"
I shook my head. "No. But maybe stay close to the garage for the next
few weeks. And stay out of trouble, okay? No more going back to the
building. I don't want him to find you there."
"Sure. Um, thanks."
I shrugged. "Of course."
The kid took off running down the alley and then out into the street. As
soon as he was gone, Atticus turned to me. "Just what the fuck are you
doing out here?"
I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. "I actually got information out of
the kid. Your wonder twin over here would have scared him half to death."
"That's the point. That's how you get information."
"There's more than one way to skin a cat. And you catch a lot more flies
with honey than with vinegar."
 He rolled his eyes. "Are you done with the clichés? I gave you strict
instructions to stay in the car."
I fixed a sassy smirk on my face. "You're going to have to realize,
Atticus Price, that sometimes you need the backup. He came running out. If
we hadn't been here, he might have made it to the street, and then you
would have lost him."
"No, I wouldn't have."
"Okay, whatever you say."
"I gave you instructions to stay in the car,” he repeated.
"Well…" I tilted my chin up at him, giving him a sassy smirk. "There’s
one thing you should remember, Atticus Price; I do not work for you."
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 19
GWEN

I was late . I only had thirty minutes to get dressed and ready. Atticus was
meeting me at the restaurant. Of course, I'd gotten a little distracted at work,
so that meant I had to hurry. Twenty-nine minutes now.
The photo recognition took a moment to activate, but then the doors
finally slid open, and I ran in, tossing my keys in the bowl in the vestibule
and jogging through the foyer before I realized I heard voices in the living
room. When I rounded the corner, there was my sister, animatedly chatting
with her hands, braids piled high on her head, a few curls hanging down in
tendrils to frame her face. God, she looked like our mom. She was talking
to a blond-haired woman who had her back turned to me. When Morgan
saw me, she grinned.
"There you are. Remember how I said I was doing a paper on New
York's oldest charities and the women behind them? I want you to meet
Lucy Dexton."
And even though I was in a rush and moving at a rapid pace, the world
slowed down as a very familiar woman turned around. Her smile was wide.
It was Lucy. My husband's ex.
 I stopped so abruptly that I wobbled in my heels and face-planted right
over the back of the couch. I quickly righted myself. "Oh, um, hello again."
Morgan stood up, confusion written on her face. "This is my sister
Gwen making the grand entrance. Gwen, this is Lucy."
"Um, yeah,” I stuttered. “Actually, we've met. At my engagement
party."
Morgan's brows lifted, and Lucy stood and said, "Hi, Gwen. It's good to
see you again. I guess your sister didn't tell you I'd be coming."
I shook my head. "No, Morgan didn't mention it. But I didn't know she
was interviewing people at the house."
I knew that the guys downstairs wouldn't let her pass if she didn't have
clearance, so she must be safe, but when did that happen?
"Yeah, your sister and I have just been talking about charities and the
different foundations I've been on. It's been a lovely chat. I understand that
you and your sister were running Hearts and Hope. I'm so sorry to hear that
the previous gala was the last of its kind. It was an institution that was so
well attended over the last decade or so."
"Yeah, it’s a shame. I'm so sorry, ladies, but I am in a hurry. I need to go
meet Atticus. Um, Lucy, it was good to see you again." I said it through
clenched teeth. I didn't mean it. I wanted to know what the fuck that woman
was doing in my house.
I gave my sister a tight smile as I jogged into my bedroom, peeling off
my jacket and trying to step out of my jeans as I hopped around.
Luckily, Magda had already prepared my dress. It had been steamed and
pressed, and the white chiffon plunging neckline was perfect. I hopped in
the shower for three solid minutes, then had the quickest moisturizing
situation I’d encountered in my life, along with a couple sprays of perfume.
Thankfully, I’d gotten braids this past weekend, so I wouldn't have to
fiddle too much with my hair.
 I would not have time for a full face, but I could do half a face in the
car. I got my little pallet and tossed it on the bed next to my clutch then got
dressed in record time. I glanced at my watch. I still had ten minutes.
Okay, I guessed I could do my makeup.
I was slapping on the primer when Morgan came running in. "Hey, are
you okay?"
"Yep, why?"
"It's just that you barely said a word to Lucy."
"Yeah, I'm good. We had a weird interaction at the engagement party,
but it doesn’t matter. You're interviewing her for your paper. I just wish I’d
known she was coming to the house."
"Oh." Morgan looked worried. "I'm sorry. Atticus said I could have
anyone over that I wanted. I didn't think to ask permission. But obviously,
she's been cleared."
I sighed, tapping my sister's face. "We're fine. I was just surprised, that's
all. And you can have anyone you want over. I promise. Besides, I'm Mrs.
Price now. So any weirdness is kind of over."
"Okay. I just wanted to check." She stepped back and whistled low.
"You are stunning. I hate the fact that you barely need any makeup."
"I'll do my eye makeup in the car. I just want to get a basic face on."
I brushed my brows and then shoved the rest of the makeup that I would
need into my clutch. I did a little twirl. "What do you think?"
"You are beautiful, sister. You look like you're getting married. I dig
that."
"What shoes do you think?"
"Manolos, obviously."
"Not the Louise Vuittons?"
She shook her head. "No. Definitely Manolos."
She jogged into the closet to pull out the exact shoe that she was
looking for. Pink and white with a single jewel at the back of the heel.
 The clutch was pink and matched them effortlessly. "Well, I guess you
knew exactly which pair."
"Of course I do. My brother-in-law is very lucky to have you. But just
in case, make sure you remind him."
I laughed. "Of course."
I grabbed my clutch, and when I walked back to the living room, Lucy
turned around and whistled low. "Wow, you are a vision."
"Thank you. It's lovely of you to say so. I'm so sorry I can't stay and
chat, but obviously, Morgan knows where everything is. Morgan, Magda is
in the building, so if you need something just call her and she'll come up
and prepare anything you want."
Lucy laughed. "Oh, trust me, I'm well aware of Magda. And I know
where everything is."
I ground my teeth at that. Of course she did. She'd been here before. She
was the old me. "Right. Well, have a good night."
I jogged around the dining room, past the kitchen, and back toward the
entrance before I realized the damn tickets for the art show we were
attending after dinner were in my work bag.
I ran back to the living room. Morgan was walking down the hall by her
room, but I didn’t see Lucy with her. Where had she gone?
I stomped down the hall and into our room only to find her coming out
of the bathroom. "Oh, what did you forget?" she asked casually.
I frowned at her. "Did you need something?"
"Yeah, I was just using the bathroom."
My bathroom? Every single bedroom in the penthouse had a bathroom,
and there was a powder room in the hallway.
"Okaaaay." A familiar scent hit my nose. It smelled like Atticus.
Granted, I just used the shower, but it smelled like his cologne.
You're being paranoid.
 I grabbed my work bag, grabbed the tickets, and then I scooted her out
of our room.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overstep. I shouldn't have used your
bathroom. I should have just waited for Morgan and used the powder
room."
"Yeah, that would make me more comfortable. We have some sensitive
items in the bedroom, you know."
"Oh God, I didn't even think about it. I'm sorry. I would never…" Her
voice trailed off. She would never, what? Snoop? Pry through my things?
Touch things that don't belong to her? Lay on the bed that I share with my
husband? No, of course she wouldn't.
"Of course.” But just to be safe, I closed the door and then deliberately
locked it.
She lifted a brow.
"I can't be too careful, you know, Lucy. My work laptop is there, so—" I
let my voice hang right there.
"Oh right, of course. I'm sorry. I should have waited."
Yeah, as we had established. I didn't feel comfortable leaving her there,
but I had to go. As I left, I texted Morgan.
Me: Please don't leave Lucy unattended. I just found her in my
bedroom.
Sissy Face: What? Why was she in the bedroom?
Me: Bathroom.
I pushed the button rapidly, trying not to let what I'd just seen affect me.
But it was nearly impossible. She had been in my bedroom. A place I was
sure she was more than familiar with.
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 20
GWEN

I was supposed to be having a good time.

Dinner was delicious. The wine and food were amazing. Atticus had
taken me to a friend's restaurant. It was a new French spot and very lively,
highlighting foods from all over the world where there were French-
speaking people. But I had been distracted. At the art gallery, Atticus leaned
over and said, "Okay, what's the problem? I thought you wanted a night out,
but you seem distracted. Annoyed maybe?"
His brow was furrowed and his gaze was unsure, as if trying to ascertain
what he'd done wrong.
I sighed. "Oh shit, I'm sorry. I am distracted, but that is not your fault.
That's on me. I'm with you. I promise."
His gaze swept over me. "You look beautiful. I did tell you right? That's
all I've been thinking about. How much you can shift your dress and how
much of a peek I'll get."
I had to chuckle at that. "Atticus, stop."
"What? You're teasing me with all that skin on display."
"It's barely any cleavage."
 "That thing is slit to your navel."
"Yes, but my breasts are completely covered,” I protested.
He smiled. "But it's the hint and the tease of it all. You're killing me."
The adoration in his face was enough to draw a genuine smile out of
me. "I'm sorry. I'm here with you. I promise."
He traced his thumb over my knuckles. "Come on, Ness, talk to me.
What’s that phrase you always say to me? Use your words."
I allowed him to pull me into his arms. "I'm sorry. You worked so hard
to make tonight fun and nice, and I have been distracted."
"I don't care that you're distracted. I mean I do care, but I want to know
why. What's going on? When I saw you last at the office, you were really
excited about the latest progress that you made and with the lessons that
Micah was giving you on the company holdings. I'm not sure how that's at
all interesting, but you were happy. What happened between then and now?
Is Jack being a pain in the ass?"
Jack now reported to me, which he didn't like so much, and it made him
a bit slow to respond.
"I worked a little longer than I thought, and I was late heading back to
the penthouse to change. And when I walked in, Lucy was there with
Morgan."
He released me and took a shocked step back. "What?"
"Yeah, Lucy, your ex. The bitchy one from our engagement party. She
was there."
He muttered under his breath and immediately pulled out his phone, but
I stopped him. "No, it’s not like she snuck in there. Morgan's interviewing
her. It's for a school project, something about the oldest charity foundations
in the city that are still running. I don't know more details than that."
"Fuck. How was she cleared?"
I winced, not wanting to get anyone in trouble. “I think she's on the
clearance list from before."
 Another curse under his breath. "I'll fix it. I swear to God I will fix it.
You shouldn't have to feel like that."
I released a sharp breath. "That's the thing. I'm not sure if she made me
feel uncomfortable or if I felt that way out of pure jealousy about her being
in my house, knowing she's been there before."
"She has been there before, but she never stayed over⁠—"
"No, I'm not saying that. I'm trying to get, you know, used to us, and it
was a bit disconcerting to walk in and find her in our house. And when I
realized I’d forgotten the tickets and went back to get them… I know I
sound so silly, but she was in our bathroom, I think."
His furrowed brows turned into a deep frown. "What do you mean she
was in our bathroom?"
"I sound crazy. I know I sound crazy. Well, crazy is the wrong word.
Because I'm allowed to have an emotional reaction to seeing your ex in my
house. I just didn't like how it made me feel. I'm sorry. It's made me weird,
and I just keep stewing over it. Let's just forget it and have a good time."
He opened his mouth like he was going to argue. But then he closed it.
And he nodded. The rest of the evening was spent mostly normally, as I
tried desperately to focus. Because God, I did want to focus. It had been a
long time since we'd had an actual date night that wasn't work or that wasn't
at La Table Ronde with everyone else. Just us, with the intention of being
fun and connected.
Atticus had attempted to give me some sense of normalcy, and for the
most part, it worked.
As we made our way toward Serendipity, I said, "I think it's closed."
Atticus winked. "You underestimate me."
When we walked up to the door, the restaurant was in fact closed, but
the owner unlocked the door to greet us. "Mr. Price, it's good to see you."
"Thank you. You know our order."
He nodded. "Coming right up."
 I tugged on his hand. "What did you do?"
"Normally they would be open late tonight. But I bought out the whole
place so that you could try as many desserts as you wanted."
"What?"
"Yeah, I was arranging it when you went to the bathroom at the gallery."
"Atticus, I love you."
"I know. I mean, I have loved you for longer than you've loved me, but
we won't quibble."
I laughed. "What are you talking about?"
"It doesn't matter."
It did make me think about what he meant by that though. He had
relentlessly pursued me. But that wasn't love; that was lust, right?
It was interesting to be chased. It had never happened before. Lance
didn't necessarily count because he was always just there as my friend. In
those moments where it looked like it might tip into something else,
something always happened to make it stop from going there. But the way
Atticus had been single-mindedly focused on me, that was different.
By the time we got home, I was happy and buzzing from the sugar high,
and I had put Lucy out of my mind. Until we stepped back in the penthouse.
In the foyer, Atticus took my hands. "You got tense again."
"Sorry. But you know what? Why don't you take me to our bedroom and
make me forget all about her,” I said suggestively.
"Okay, I think I can make that happen."
I halfway expected to find Lucy in my living room, still sitting there,
eating our snacks and watching our TV, but she wasn't there, thank God. We
found a note on the corner of the dining room table from Morgan that said
she'd gone to bed and please not to wake her by breaking any of the
furniture because we were fucking on it.
I so wanted to laugh. "Oh my God."
 Atticus read the note over my shoulder. "I think she underestimates us.
We don't need to break the furniture for me to fuck you on every surface in
here."
"Oh, Mr. Price, you do tempt a girl."
With a teasing laugh, he took me to our room, but he sobered when he
discovered the door was locked. "Where was she?" he asked as he let us in.
I pointed at the bathroom.
"Is that why you locked the door?"
"Yes. I didn't want her to steal anything. My laptop was in here, and I
don't trust her."
"And that's smart. Your instincts are never off, Gwen. If you think
something's up, then something is up, I trust your instincts implicitly."
I hadn't known how much I needed to hear those words until that
moment. "Thank you,” I said sincerely.
“In case it's a mystery, you are my North Star, Gwen. You are all I think
about, all I dream about. When I see my future, it's only you, our children,
the work we can do, what we can build. The good we can do for the world.
You shouldn't feel off kilter or concerned because you own me body and
soul. I already gave you my empire, but my heart and my body have been
yours since you glitter-bombed me on a balcony. I will tell you this every
single day until you feel it, not just know it. In the meantime, I want to erase
the presence of her being in our bedroom from your mind. And I am going
to talk to Morgan about letting us know ahead of time when she's going to
have a guest so you won't get surprised again."
"Why are you so good to me?"
"Because you make me feel like a whole man. All those little holes in
my soul from before are gone. Because of you.”
Tugging me toward the bed, he sat me down on it, and I leaned back on
my palms, watching him as he shed his jacket and tossed it somewhere
behind him. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and tugged off his tie. But what
made my eyebrows raise was him planting the tie across his wrist and then
very deftly using his fingers and his teeth to tie himself at the wrist.
"I'm giving you full access to my body, Gwen. It's always been yours,
but it seems you need a reminder of that. So I'm all yours. Tie me to the
bedpost and do whatever you want with me. You don't need to ever feel
unsure of my love. Where you go, I go."
I stared at him. "Wait, you're going to let me tie you up?"
"Well, technically I tied myself up, but I'm going to let you tie me to the
bedpost and do anything you want to me."
I searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation. “Anything? You're not
going to break free?"
"Well, anything within reason. If I think you're in danger or the
penthouse is on fire or something, that’s different. But yeah, do whatever
you want."
I stood then, turned him around, and eagerly pushed him back on the
bed, eliciting a laughing oof from him.
"Atticus Price, you don't know what you just agreed to."
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 21
ATTICUS

M y voice was a low rumble when I said, “I’ll be a good boy. Do your
worst.”
With a wicked smile, Gwen reached for the silk tie that bound my wrist.
"Oh, I intend to, Mr. Price."
As she secured the tie around my other wrist and the ornate bedpost, a
strange sensation overtook me as a shiver ran through me. A combination of
vulnerability and anticipation had my heart hammering in my chest, my
breathing coming out unevenly as Gwen hiked up her skirt and shimmied
down my body.
She straddled me effortlessly, her skirt hiking up and revealing a teasing
hint of lace underneath. I watched her with rapt attention, all pretense of
composure lost as she leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on my chest, her
eyes never leaving mine.
Fuck. I had talked a big game, but I was already on the brink of
madness. All vestiges of control slipping out of my hands like water.
"Are you going to drive me insane tonight?" My voice sounded like a
feral growl as I spoke. Which was fitting, because I was losing my shit, and
she hadn’t even started yet.
Her lips curved into an inscrutable smile. "Maybe," she whispered
before she bent down, trailing hot kisses down my stomach until her lips
hovered above the sensitive spot just below my navel.
I held my breath, tugging against the restraints, suddenly rethinking my
idea. I needed to touch her. I was going to die if I didn’t.
And she’ll let you go… But she’ll demand you beg first.
I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking that maybe if I didn’t see what she
was doing it might help. It didn’t. But there was no way I was giving in.
Not so soon.
Her lips barely brushed against me once before she suddenly stopped
and looked up at me with a teasing glint in her eyes.
She took hold of the waistband of my pants and slowly unbuttoned
them, drawing out each second with torturous precision. The sound of the
zipper felt like a gong in the silence of our bedroom.
I wasn’t going to make it. Fuck, she was killing me, and she hadn’t even
started yet.
Biting her lip, she dragged my pants down, having to reach inside and
adjust my cock as she tugged. When she had them to my knees, her gaze
pinned on the length of my throbbing dick. A drop of pre-cum leaked from
the tip as if in greeting.
“Gwen…” My voice trailed as my remaining brain cells fried. She took
my dick into her delicate palm, and I nearly lost it right there. Her touch
was molten hot. Firm yet gentle, stoking the fire that threatened to consume
us both.
Slowly, so goddamned slowly, she lowered her head. Her breath was a
tease over the tip of my cock, and I couldn’t help it. I lifted my hips in a
plea.
The heat of it almost undid me as I tugged against the restraints, a
primal instinct urging me to bury my hands in her hair and pull her down
until my cock hit the back of her throat. But I couldn't, not with the silk
binding my wrists firmly to the bedpost.
"What's the matter, Mr. Price? Cat got your tongue?" Her voice was as
sweet as honey, laced with a heavy note of amusement.
“Fuck, baby, please. Just—” I lifted my hips in frustration.
“Didn’t take you long to beg.”
Teasing me, she smiled as she took my cock, licking the pre-cum off
with the tip of her tongue. When she moaned, swallowing me down, that
was it. “Fuck, okay, you win. I beg. Give me your mouth, baby. Fuck Gwen,
give it to me.”
Her laughter was a soft vibration against my hard length, sending jolts
of electricity through me. "I thought you'd never ask, Atticus."
With those words, she closed her mouth around me, sucking deep. A
strangled moan tumbled from my lips as I fought the urge to buck up into
her mouth. Held prisoner by my restraints and the expert work of her
tongue, there was nothing to do but surrender completely.
Her movements were slow at first, teasing with every lick and suck. She
held me captive with her eyes, watching with a devilish delight as I writhed
beneath her. My heart pounded in my ears as she took me in deeper and
deeper.
Hot.
Wet.
Consuming.
"God, Gwen... Fuck," I groaned breathlessly, my body tight. I felt like
she’d lit me on fire from the inside. The fire low in my gut had started to
spread, and I tugged on my restraints to no avail.
She hummed around me, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure
coursing through my body. My hands clenched around the silk tie that
bound me as I felt the pressure inside of me building up to an unbearable
level.
 Gwen looked up at me from where she was knelt between my spread
legs, her eyes full of unbridled desire. Her lips twisted into a wicked smile
before she swallowed down on me again, increasing the pace until it was
merciless.
“You like that?” she purred against my skin. She didn't need an answer,
and yet, how could I not give her one?
“Fuck, yes,” I growled through gritted teeth. “Don’t stop. So good.
Fuck.” I thrashed in the bed, sweat popping on my brow.
She didn’t break eye contact once. Those stormy eyes both a challenge
and a promise as she continued to torture me with her mouth. Every stroke
sent me spiraling closer and closer to the edge.
"Give it to me," she demanded between licks. Her eagerness sparked
something primitive within me. This was not just about pleasure; it was
about claiming and being claimed in return.
The heat in my belly coiled tighter, and she seemed to sense it. The
rhythm of her movements changed, no longer teasing but purposeful, intent
on driving me over the edge. She took me down to the base of my cock and
my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
I was helpless against the mounting pleasure, my fingers digging deep
into the restraints that held me. My breath came out in ragged pants as I
chased the oblivion she so skillfully offered.
Her name echoed in the room as a guttural groan tore from my lips. The
world narrowed down to Gwen's mouth and her tongue, determined to make
me snap.
I watched in a desperate daze as she took more of me into her mouth,
her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked. It was the sexiest fucking thing I
had ever seen, her mouth a complete revelation and my undoing.
As I bucked my hips upward, desperate for more, she backed off
slightly, just to tease me further before deep-throating me again. I groaned
at the back of my throat, the sounds guttural and desperate.
 "Is that what you want?" she paused to ask, her voice tender yet
taunting. Despite the lust clouding my senses, I could hear the smirk in her
voice. She owned me.
“Gwen…” I gasped out, on the verge of incoherence. “Don’t—stop.”
She continued with a renewed vigor, each movement of her head
sending waves of pleasure through my body as she took me deeper into her
mouth. Her tongue was working wonders, swirling around me, making me
delirious.
And then she released me with a pop. I was so far gone I snarled at her.
“Get back here.”
She shook her head, and frustrated, I tugged at my restraints. When she
sat up, she stripped out of her dress. And when she shimmied out of her
panties, I salivated.
Eyes on her breasts, I tried to will one of the blackberry-tipped nipples
into my mouth. “Come here, wife.”
"You, husband, need to learn some patience.” She climbed back onto the
bed, shimmying up my body to straddle me. When she turned her back to
me, her gorgeous ass on display, fuck my life… I almost came right there.
She continued to tease me, swaying her hips seductively as the scent of
her arousal filled the room. I could only groan in response, hands flexing
uselessly around my restraints.
"Patience," she repeated again, sounding supremely pleased with
herself. She lowered herself onto my thighs, the heat of her body searing
me. My heart pounded out a savage rhythm against my rib cage,
anticipation coiling tight in my gut.
Then slowly, torturously so, she started to lower herself onto me, her
back arched and head thrown back in ecstasy. The sight of her taking me
was more intoxicating than any drink I'd ever had. I bucked upward
instinctively, groaning at the sensation of her enveloping me.
 "Holy fuck..." I gasped out as she began to ride me. “Your pussy is so
good. So perfect. Fuck, Ness. You ride me so good. This fucking view. You
trying to make me crave that pretty ass again?”
She swiveled her hips and Christ almighty, my control snapped.
My vision blurred as she drove me deeper into her. I tasted the metallic
tang of blood where I'd bitten my lip in a futile attempt to remain
composed. My restraint was reaching its end, and the headboard behind me
bore the brunt of my desperation, splintering under the force.
I tugged at the silk tie that bound my wrists. It gave way suddenly and a
wave of satisfaction coursed through me as I was finally free. Not wasting a
moment, I gripped her waist tightly, helping guide her movements as she
continued to take me deeper.
With my hands free, I sat up and palmed her full tits, relishing the way
she overflowed my big hands. The feeling of her surrounding me
intoxicated me. Each time she came down on me, the movement sent sparks
flying behind my eyes and a surge of pleasure rippling through me.
"Fuck Gwen… You're so beautiful," I breathed out, my fingers digging
into the soft flesh as I thrust up into her. My other hand found its way to one
of those blackberry-tipped nipples. I flicked it gently, drawing a sharp gasp
from her lips which melted into a long moan.
I switched my attention to her neglected breast, running my thumb over
the hardened nipple, causing her to shiver. The sight was so erotic that it
drove me fucking insane.
That was Gwen—my wife—commanding me with just the sway of her
hips. How she reveled in it. And why shouldn't she? She held power over
me that no one else did.
The way Gwen moved was hypnotic, a sultry dance meant for my eyes
alone. She threw her head back in pleasure, her lithe body gleaming in the
moonlight that streamed through our bedroom window.
 I watched as beads of sweat trickled down her neck and then down her
back. Tendrils of her hair escaped her braids, making her look like the
goddess she was.
Fuck, I was losing it. I fisted a hand in her hair, the other on her
shoulder, tugging her head back and bringing her down hard on my cock.
"Mine," I growled into her ear, losing myself deeper into her. “My wife.
My. Fucking. Wife.”
She replied with a throaty moan that nearly had me undone. "Always."
Our movements became more frantic as we chased our climax, the
intensity mounting with each thrust.
"Yours, Atticus. Always." Her voice was thick with desire, the words
seeming to lengthen out the vowels in a breathy whisper. I could feel her
tightening around me in response, and my grip on her tightened.
"Yes," I groaned, giving her one hard thrust. "Don't forget it, Mrs. Price.
Fuck, I love fucking you."
She answered me with a throaty laugh and began to ride me harder, each
movement causing delicious friction that had me gasping for breath. My
eyes rolled back at the sensation, my hands desperately clutching at her hips
as I fought to keep up with her rhythm.
My awareness narrowed down to just Gwen and the way her body
moved against mine. Each movement of her hips was an invitation, a
provocation that had my breath hitching and my heart pounding.
"Fuck... Gwen..." The words were torn from me, involuntary noises of
pleasure as she took me deeper within her.
Suddenly, her rhythm faltered, her body tensing as a cry of pleasure tore
its way from her throat. I felt it too—the sudden tightening around me, the
tremors coursing through her as she came, pulsing around me. It was the
most erotic thing I'd ever seen, my wife surrendering to the pleasure I gave
her.
"Atticus!" she cried out, her voice hoarse with pleasure.
 The sight of her, the sounds she made, the feel of her clenching around
me… It was enough to push me over the edge. With a guttural groan, I
followed her into bliss, my body shuddering as waves of satisfaction
washed over me.
"Gwen…" My voice was shaky as I buried my face into the crook of her
neck, my heart hammering in my chest as I held onto her. “Jesus fucking
Christ.” I was blind. I was certain of it.
No dumbass, you just can’t open your eyes right now, you’re so
exhausted.
I peeled them open to find my wife looking at me with a mischievous
grin on her face and a dark braided curl flopping on her brow. “So much for
staying in the handcuffs, Mr. Price.”
The low chuckle tumbled out of its own accord. “What can I say? I
might have lost control a little.”
“Mmm, I like it when you lose control,” she murmured, before dropping
her head to my shoulder.
One of her aftershocks rippled around my cock and I groaned as my
cock stirred. “Fucking hell, woman, you’re going to kill me with pleasure.”
Her only answer was a moan as I shifted us to our sides. I slowly started
to pull out of her, but she tightened around me with a whimper.
"No," she moaned, holding onto me tighter. "Stay... just a little longer."
I chuckled. “If I stay, I’ll fuck you again. You’ll be sore.”
Another whimper. “But, I need…” her voice trailed and her hips shifted.
“What do you need, baby?”
“I think I still need…”
I slid my hand down her hip, and between her thighs again. She was so
slick from both of us.
“Is this what you need? More?”
“Yes. God. I want more.”
 "Greedy little wife.” I dipped a finger into her sweet cunt, coating my
finger with our cum.
Her moan was the only response. I grinned, leaning in to whisper in her
ear, "Beg me."
"Atticus," she whimpered, writhing beneath my touch. "I need you.
Please."
"You're going to be the death of me," I murmured in her ear before
sliding a finger into her, delighted by the slickness that welcomed me. She
gasped and squirmed, pressing into my hand.
I took the warm slick wetness, and stroked her clit.
Her body jerked, her breath hitching in a sharp intake. She grabbed my
wrist, pressing it harder against her.
"Yes! Please...," she groaned, her body shuddering under my touch. The
air was heavy with lust and our mixed scents of sex.
"Good girl," I whispered into her ear, giving her clit another firm stroke
before slipping two fingers inside her. She gasped at the sudden intrusion
but didn't pull away. Instead, she pushed herself further onto my hand,
moaning loudly as I began to move my fingers in a steady rhythm.
"Oh God...Atticus," she finally managed to pull herself together. Her
voice was shaky, filled with desire and need. I watched as she bit her lower
lip, her fingers clutching the sheets beneath us.
"That's it, baby," I murmured into her ear, my voice husky.
Her eyes rolled back and she let out a strangled gasp. “Atticus!” She
cried out my name as an orgasm ripped through her body. She shook
violently under me, clenching my fingers inside her while waves of
pleasure washed over her.
I continued to stroke her through her orgasm until finally, she stopped
shuddering and collapsed onto the bed, breathless and sated.
Slowly, I pulled my fingers out of her, watching as she shivered from
the aftershocks.
 I leaned down over her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "My greedy little
wife. Now, let me get you a towel."
I slipped out of bed, striding naked to the en-suite bathroom. I picked up
a fluffy, white washcloth from the rack and wet it with warm water.
Back in the bed, I found her curled up on her side, her eyes closed but a
satisfied smile lingering on her parted lips. Her hair was messy, tangled
with perspiration and the exertion of our lovemaking. A thin sheet barely
covered her, the outline of her naked form visible beneath it. Beautiful.
After cleaning her up quickly and tossing the towel in the basket, I
climbed back into bed with her, pulling her to me.
“I love you, Atticus.”
“I know. And I love you, Mrs. Price.”
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 22
ATTICUS

L a T able R onde was crowded as usual, but our normal spot had been
reserved.
In front of me, Gwen sashayed through the restaurant, and my gaze slid
down to focus on her ass. Goddamn, it was a thing of beauty.
“I can feel you watching me, Mr. Price,” she said cheekily over one
shoulder.
“Yeah, well, if you don’t like it, stop sashaying for me, Mrs. Price.”
We were led into one of the back rooms for a private dinner and found
the guys were already there.
Morgan was in the corner sulking because it seemed Lance wouldn't let
her have a drink. She nodded as we walked in and immediately began
complaining to her sister. “Gwen, your idiot best friend won't let me have a
drink."
Gwen didn't miss a beat. "Morgan, sweetheart, you're not twenty-one
yet."
There was a chorus of “oooohs“ and “aaaahs” when the food was
brought in, and everyone grabbed the small plates and settled in as we
started to look over the files.
Pierce sat back and wiped his mouth as he grabbed the remote, using a
large monitor mounted on the wall to show us where we were.
“Looks like the Mangles kid came through. Because thanks to Gwen's
algorithm, I got a good look from the camera right here at the bank”—he
indicated a spot on-screen—"and we have a visual of the shooter.”
We all leaned in.
Lance piped up. “I cleaned it up as much as I could.”
Gwen took a large sip of her drink. "It's a simple search then. I can run
facial recognition and we should find this asshole in no time. Then I can get
my life back.”
I didn't know what it was, but I couldn't keep my eyes off my wife.
There was something in her smile, the way she interacted with each of my
friends, the ease of being with her. This was what family felt like.
I glanced over in the corner, wondering what Morgan and Lance were
fighting about this time. Was I supposed to do something about that now?
She was my sister. She had said that she was happy she now had a big
brother, but did that include interference?
I had no idea how to navigate that. Micah had been easy. Honestly, most
of the time I thought the kid was smarter than I was, but he had wanted a
big brother, so he tagged along everywhere behind me. It was easy to look
out for him in most instances.
Except with your father.
I glanced over at Gwen to see if she was clocking what was happening,
but she was engaged in an animated conversation with Gavin about his
daughter. I'd have to figure out the Morgan situation later.
Reaching out absently, I stroked my wife’s shoulder, and the shift in her
weight toward me made me smile.
When I raised my gaze, Micah was lifting a brow at me. I just shrugged
at him and grinned. Then he gave me a knowing nod and turned his
attention back to whatever the hell Rowan had been saying.
Gwen's laptop finally beeped and she stood. "We've got a match."
My gut twisted as I considered it. The sooner we could get this fucker
off the street, the better. So why was I suddenly anxious?
"A Peter Reeser?" Gwen said with a question in her voice.
She glanced up at me as if I knew him. But I immediately shook my
head and said, "It doesn't ring a bell." I turned my attention to my brother,
who also shook his head. It was my secondary gaze to Pierce that had my
stomach twisting.
"I know the name," he said, his voice low. "He's an assassin."
"An assassin?" I asked, not really surprised, given how efficient he’d
been.
Pierce's gray eyes were clear but grave. "Yeah, one I know by name."
My gut knotted. Pierce had seen a lot of shit. Shit I didn't even know
about. Things he couldn't talk about. I knew that during those years that he'd
gone dark from my life he'd been through some stuff. But now he knew
assassins?
"That means he was hired,” I said, stating the obvious. “Which means
Dad is still in play."
Micah nodded. "I'll go talk to him."
I shook my head. "You are the last person who needs to talk to Dad."
The firm line of Micah's lips told me just what he thought of that, but I
didn't give a fuck. I wasn't letting him talk to the old man. I'd talk to him.
You mean kill him?
Gavin, being Gavin, volunteered. "Look, how about I go interview the
old man? I'll even notify his lawyer that we need to speak to him, and we
can figure out how he knows Reeser."
Pierce cleared his throat then rubbed the back of his neck. "You don't
need to do that. Now that I'm seeing a photo of Reeser, I realize I've seen
him before."
 I frowned at him. "What the fuck do you mean you've seen him before?
From your old life or recently?”
He dragged in a deep breath. "I know the name from before. But the
face is recently familiar."
I shifted in my seat. Automatically, Gwen leaned toward me, as did my
brother.
Was I that volatile?
Well, it looks like you might beat your best friend's ass, so it’s entirely
possible that you are that volatile.
Pierce was scrolling through his phone, and he held a photo out to
Gwen. "Is that him?"
Gwen looked back and forth between the image on the screen and the
image on his phone. "Yeah, that is him. Where was that taken?"
Another deep breath from Pierce. "It's from you’re engagement
party. He was there that night."
I glared at him. "He was there? At my engagement party to Gwen?"
"Yes,” he said hesitantly.
"Do you mean to tell me that we had an assassin under our noses during
the engagement party? How did that happen? How is Gwen even still
alive?"
"I don't know,” Pierce said in frustration. “We vetted everyone who
walked through those doors. Something is very, very wrong."
Gwen reached out and took my hand in hers. I resisted the urge to pull
away, to shield her in some way from my fury. But instead of that dark
coldness that usually slid into place, she chased it off with her warmth.
It was a happy warmth, keeping me calm enough to use my words
instead of my fists. "Would you fucking find out?"
Gwen spoke up. "I can help."
Pierce shook his head. "No. With all due respect, I fucked up, and I'll fix
it."
 Lance glanced from me, to Pierce, then to Gwen, and back to Pierce
again. "I'll help. I know Gwen's software well. I can double check all the
facial recognition data from that night. And I'm a decent hacker. It'll go
faster."
Pierce nodded and lifted his gaze back to mine. "I'm sorry, Atticus. I'll
fix it. I promise."
I didn't have any words for him. He needed to fucking fix it. This was
Pierce. I needed to be able to count on him.
Mistakes like this don't happen with Pierce. He's too good at his job. So
if he's making mistakes, you have to ask yourself why.
And I would eventually take it a step further. Not just why, but what the
hell else had he missed?
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 23
ATTICUS

"A tticus P rice , are you sulking ?"

I frowned at my wife, looking absolutely gorgeous in her gray pantsuit,
the top of which cut off just an inch above where the pants sat, showing a
strip of skin that made me want to run my hands under her jacket and cup
her breasts…
I blinked rapidly. "What did you say?"
She narrowed her gaze at me, and I gave her a sheepish grin. "Were you
listening to me, Atticus, or were you too busy plotting?"
"Yeah, of course I was. You said something, something, about
something."
"Atticus, that’s not funny."
"Yes, love, I was listening to you. And I'm not plotting."
"Okay then, tell me that you won't try to murder your father. And that
it's not going to cause you emotional distress that I’m talking to him."
I clenched my jaw tight and tried to look the one person on earth next to
my brother who knew me the best straight in the eye. "I'm not going to
murder him."
 The problem was the word murder came out sort of gleefully.
Morgan snorted from the corner of the living room where she perched
prettily on the hanging chair Gwen had added a couple of weeks ago.
"Why did it sound like you were so happy about the idea of murder?"
Gwen asked.
"I'm not."
Micah, Lakewood, and Gwen audibly scoffed, and Morgan just laughed
to herself.
Pierce didn't laugh though, because he was still busy kicking himself
over everything that had happened.
"Fine," I turned to my brother. "You're going with her, right?"
Micah nodded. "There's no way I would make anyone handle that
alone."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "I can handle him."
I threw my hands up. "Unless he's trying to murder you. The man is a
master manipulator. He's been at this for years. So if you're not going to let
me murder him, then at least take someone with you when you talk to him."
She rolled her eyes. "All right, that’s fair. Who's going with you to talk
to Bronson?"
We’d opted to divide and conquer the suspects. The most likely suspects
for hiring an assassin to take care of Gwen were my father and Bronson
Jacobson. Lucy, while a bothersome problem, was seen as little threat. Her
family was off the list. Her father was an asshole, but he had no reason to
want Gwen dead. Nevertheless, we’d circle back and take another look at
them if nothing panned out with Jacobson or my father. "Fine, who do you
deem as my escort?"
Morgan raised a hand. Gwen, Lance, and I all shook our heads. "No,
you stay here,” I said emphatically.
Morgan rolled her eyes. "God, you guys never let me have any fun."
 I couldn't help but chuckle at that, and she stuck her tongue out at me. I
had grown men who shook in their boots every single time they had to
address me, but this kid was sticking her tongue out at me. I lifted a brow
and she just flashed a grin at me, completely unperturbed.
I knew I liked the kid.
" Wait,” Gwen said thoughtfully. “Can you be counted on not to murder
Bronson?"
I considered it for a moment and started to smile. I saw Morgan point at
me. "Look, he's thinking the murder thing again."
I waved a hand in dismissal. "I've already dealt with Bronson once, and
I didn't murder him then. See? I have shown restraint in the past."
She rolled her eyes. "Lance, go with him."
Lakewood frowned. "Why am I always getting paired with him?"
He said it like a whiny, recalcitrant teenager, and I rolled my eyes.
"Gear up, Lakewood. You're my trusted knight."
Gwen laughed at that. "Well, isn't this fun? We are a team again, just
like in the Winston Isles."
Gavin chuckled. "Um, I have been given no job."
Rowan shoved macaroons in his mouth that Gavin had made as he
returned from the kitchen. "I don't have a job either."
I smiled at both of them and then back at Morgan.
Morgan whined. "Oh my God, I do not need an escort."
"Yes, you do, kid. You have to go to a family dinner with the Beckers."
Gwen frowned. "Ugh, I'd forgotten about that." She made a sweet face
at her sister. "I'm sorry, Morgs. You think you can handle him on your
own?"
Morgan shrugged. "I should be fine. Besides, I’ll have eye candy with
me.”
That made Gavin blush, and Rowan grinned back at her until I growled
at him. Then his grin fell.
 Morgan chose that moment to scowl at me. "You're ruining all my fun."
I turned back to Rowan. "No hands."
Rowan blinked in surprise. He was young, and unlike most of the men
Pierce hired, he was straight out of school. So he was close enough to
Morgan's age for me to be worrying. She was my sister. I was supposed to
worry about her, wasn't I?
She just rolled her eyes. "Right, and I will stay put."
When the team broke apart, Lakewood was right on my heels. "So,
partner, how are we going to do this? Bad cop, good cop? I was really
thinking, bad cop, bad cop personally, because you already got a bite out of
him. At the time he was being such an asshole to her, Gwen wouldn't let me
do anything. So I'm hoping for retribution this time."
I was liking Lakewood a lot better now. "Well, let's hope we actually get
information from him. And then, if you take off his head, I won't care. Hell,
I'll provide you an alibi."
"With all due respect, Price, you should be the alibi."
As it turned out, Jacobson wasn’t hard to find. We didn't call ahead, but
he wasn't in the office or at home. And then Lakewood had an idea. He'd
pulled up the latest hookup app and then made a quick fake profile using
photos he grabbed from the internet. With a few well-placed keywords, I
got favorite places and favorite restaurants to match Bronson Jacobson's.
Places that he had either taken Gwen to or frequented. He suddenly showed
up in a pool of men. Lakewood set himself as available. And suddenly,
there was a match and a location for a meet-up all set up. At a hotel,
obviously.
"Do people really use this thing?" I asked, inquiring about the dating
app.
He shrugged. "Seems like a sad way to find a mate, but for people just
looking to hookup, it's the new thing."
 I frowned. "God, it's so easy to meet women. Why would anyone do
this?"
"Well, not everyone is Atticus Price,” Lakewood said. “Some guys have
to work harder. Women threw themselves at you all the time, hoping for a
chance to be Mrs. Atticus Price. You had your pick of women who would
do anything you wanted just to prove to you that they were wife material."
"That's ridiculous."
"Yes, it is. I mean, look, I'm not complaining. I know I get the benefits
of the Lakewood name."
"Yeah, about that, did you figure out what you're going to do about your
grandfather's will?"
He shook his head. "I'm not going to think about that right now. I'm
ignoring it until I don't have to."
I shrugged. "Fair."
"Let's go on our date."
It turned out, Bronson was temporarily staying at the Waldorf. As I
already had some suites booked there for the incoming executives, I
breezed by check-in security with no issues. We reached Jacobson's room
and knocked on the door. I shook my head when he opened it so easily.
"Christ, Jacobson, you didn't even check the peephole? Just waiting for
some random hookup girl to walk in. That, my friend, apparently is how
you get—" I turned to Lakewood. "What did Morgan say?"
"Rowed. That's what the kids are saying."
I grinned at Jacobson. "Yeah, that’s how you get rowed."
Jacobson tried to shut the door in our faces, but between myself and
Lakewood, he couldn't keep us out.
"What the fuck do you two want?"
"Just to have a conversation.”
He glared at me. “I've already told you I don’t want to see you."
 I waived my hand. "Oh, we're going to have a perfectly lovely
conversation. Besides, if anything happens to you, everyone will see that
you used the hookup app. You really can't be too careful these days."
"What do you want, Price? You said to stay away from Gwen, and I
have."
Lakewood made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed. That made
Jacobson distinctly uncomfortable. "What the fuck do you want?"
"Peter Reeser. What do you know about him?" I asked.
"Who?"
"Peter Reeser," Lakewood said with an air of 'I'm really not here to fuck
with you.' I might not like him, but when it came to Gwen, he did not play
around.
"I have done what you asked, haven't I? I heard you loud and clear,
Price. Don't fuck with your wife. Understood. Message received."
"You say that." I paced in front of him slowly, as if I had all the time in
the world. But I needed him to fucking start talking. "Except, you didn't get
the message the first time, and you tried to talk to her."
"I haven't approached her. Ask her, she'll fucking tell you."
"That's the thing, why should I have to bother Gwen with such frivolity?
Because if you hired someone to try and kill her…”
Jacobson put his hands up and started backing up. "Fuck, no I didn’t.
I'm not insane."
"Sure, you are. You tried talking to her after I told you not to." I prowled
toward him, and he continued to back up. And Lakewood added to the
effect by just lazing sadistically on the bed.
"I was pissed, yeah. You cost me millions. But try to kill her? You're
already fucking unhinged, man. I'm not trying to invite more trouble."
"Why should I believe you?"
"I don't know this guy, Reeser."
 I leaned in real close. "You're sure? Because hiring an assassin is easy.
It's exactly the kind of bitch move that you would make."
Jacobson frowned. "No. It wasn't me. Her father, maybe. He's desperate
enough to do something like this. Not me."
I turned to Lakewood. "Funny how when he's desperate, he will find
anyone else to take the fall."
"I mean, it doesn't make a ton of sense,” Lance mused, “but at least he
gave us something to look at."
"Do you believe him?" I asked.
"You've already shown him that you can ruin him. Besides, I think you
and your boys already have him pissing himself. He's not dumb enough to
make that mistake."
Bronson nodded his head. "Yeah, what Lakewood said. I learned my
lesson. I swear I don't know him."
I didn't want to believe him, but I did. He looked scared and like he had
no idea what the fuck I was talking about. He wasn't connected to Reeser.
And as much as I wanted to kill him, Gwen had been pretty clear on the no-
murdering thing.
"Hey, Lakewood, when Gwen said no-murder, do you think she meant
you, too?"
Lakewood chuckled low then. "Better not risk it. She's still mad at me
for this one time in college when she asked me not to interfere with
something and I did. She's still holding a grudge on that one. I would like
for her to talk to me sometime in this century.” He turned to Jacobson. “So
lucky for you, Bronson. You get to live.”
In the elevator, I said, "Well, it's a pity that didn’t pan out, Lakewood.
But hopefully, Gwen and Micah have had more luck with my father."
His eyes met mine, and we both knew what I meant. If they came up
snake eyes on the old man as well, we weren't any closer. And there was an
assassin in our midst.
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"O h look , the prodigal son returns ," Lucian Price said sarcastically.
Micah didn't even flinch as he stoically stood next to me. He said
nothing.
"Mr. Price, we just have a few questions for you,” I began.
His gaze darted back to me. "I don't speak to the help, girl."
I grinned. "Of course, you don't. Good thing I'm your daughter now,
Dad."
"All because of a deal Atticus made. You're the bride he bought and paid
for. And now you're stuck with him.”
"Well, consider me the help if you want, but I own majority shares of
Pendragon, Dad. So call me what you like, but I'm still richer than you."
That got a smile from Micah. A quick glance at him told me his lips
were twitching. When we finally sat, we could see Lucian’s hands cuffed to
the table. Micah sat forward and said, "How this goes is we ask the
questions, and you answer. No bargaining, and you're not to insult Gwen
any more than you already have. We're not here for chitchat. You've already
made your bed, and you're going to lie in it."
 "You think your charges will stick?"
Micah glowered at him, and I placed a hand over his, giving it a gentle
squeeze. “We’re not here for a fight. We’re here to get questions answered
and go,” I reminded him.
"Boy, tell the bitch to stop talking to me."
Well, we were off to a great start. "Oh, you will talk to me, whether it's
now or later. You see, I'm merely the thing standing between you and your
other son doing something drastic. He wanted to pull every string he could
to get you locked up in the biggest super max he could find. Atticus will do
anything to protect the people he loves. And you are not one of them. After
what you did to his mother, he doesn't care what he has to do, because to
him there are no rules. Not to mention, the government has questions about
tax evasion, fraud, you know how it goes. It would be a shame if they found
every single property you had. Not that you're ever going to leave here. But
if you did eventually manage to make some kind of appeal and get things
overturned, you would have nothing. And I would have everything that you
own. I mean, we don't want to go that far. We just want you to pay for what
you did to Brian Riley and Atticus's mother. So answer our questions, and
we keep Atticus from doing a whole revenge tour."
"You think you can control that boy? He's defective. Just like his brother
here."
Again, his insults didn't even faze Micah.
"That's interesting that you would say that, Mr. Price. They're your flesh
and blood, but it was both of their mothers who made them strong men who
managed to escape your evil influence. So there's that."
He rattled his handcuffs in frustration. "I'm bored. Let's get this over
with."
"At last, cooperation. Look, it's no mystery that you will do anything to
get back at your sons. You clearly have issues. But my question is, what's
your problem with me? Up until Atticus gave me control of the company,
you didn't have any beef with me. I've done nothing to you."
His brow furrowed. "I don't understand your line of questioning."
I studied him, unable to tell if he was lying.
Micah sat forward. "Enough bullshit. With what you did to Jessica,
you’re looking at fifteen years at least, but you’ll eventually have a chance
at getting out and enjoying whatever is left of your miserable little
existence. But if you also hired an assassin to kill her, you're never going to
see the light of day. And bad things happen to prison inmates all the time,”
he said threateningly.
The old man's eyes went wide. "I never fucking hired an assassin to kill
Jessica. I didn't want her dead. If she died, all of her shares went straight to
Atticus, and that's not what I needed. I needed control of my company."
Micah rolled his eyes. "You mean grandfather’s company. Technically,
Atticus’s, because you were just a seat warmer until Atticus came of age."
"I had no reason to fucking kill his mother."
Micah sighed. "We're not talking about Jessica, anyway. We're talking
about Gwen. Did you hire an assassin to kill her?"
Lucian's gaze flickered from his son, to me, and back again. "Someone’s
trying to kill you? Oh God, this is too brilliant. If you die, my son becomes
very, very upset. Tortured even. God, I love that idea. Ahh, this is a fucking
delight. Best news I've had all day."
Micah sat back. "He doesn't know anything."
Lucian laughed. "Oh, you think you know me so well. You've come and
given me this gift. Maybe I should have hired someone to kill this bitch. It
would have saved me a lot of headaches, that's for fucking sure."
For some reason, out of everything he’d said, this was the thing that
shook Micah's cool. "You are such a hateful fuck."
"And you are a useless, spineless, son of a whore. All my attempts to
shape you and mold you did nothing. You still turned out useless. You didn't
understand the importance of power. You chose your brother over me. And
now what are you, his lackey?"
Micah pushed to his feet. "We're done here."
I nodded. Seeing the effect that this crazy man had on Micah lit a spark
of rage inside me. "You know, I've been trying to figure it out, understand
why you are the way that you are, and I finally see it. Clear as day. You are
jealous of Atticus, of Micah, of the ease of the relationship that they have.
The fact that they thrived without you has only made you more envious.
The fact that they have more than survived… You can't take it, can you?
And now you're sitting in here, and they're out there, running the company
that was theirs, given to them by someone better than you. The company
you tried to swipe from under their noses. You failed on all accounts, so all
you have in here, old man, are your regrets, your envy, and your hatred.
And even those are a gift from your sons, because you are still alive."
I turned to Micah. "Maybe we should have just let Atticus do whatever
he wanted with him. It would put an end to all of this misery."
As we were about to leave, I turned a level gaze on the man that had
hurt the men I cared very much about. "You know, I have a wish for you.
That someone shows you the same kind of malice and toxic energy that you
reserved for the world. I hope you find that person in here with nothing but
hatred and loathing in their heart for you. Matter of fact, I feel like
whispering to a guard about some of the women who’ve filed claims
against you and how they were perhaps underage. That should take care of
it. I hear they don’t like pedophiles in prison."
His brows furrowed. "You lying bitch."
I gave him a sweet smile. "Nope. Who said anything about lying? One
of the girls who was an intern at Pendragon is barely eighteen, and when I
had a look through the records, since I knew we were coming here and
would need some leverage, I discovered she was underage when she filed
her complaint. And I will make sure every single person in here knows
about it. Have a nice rest of your life, Lucian."
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"I really wish you’d let me do it, Atticus."

"For what purpose? He didn't have the information we needed anyway,
so there's no point for you to have to live with that."
Atticus had me on the couch in his office, and he'd forced me to take off
my shoes so he could rub my feet. There were worse things that could
happen.
"Micah said that he was definitely an asshole, but you held your own. I
believe that Dad was telling the truth about not hiring anyone to kill you.
Obviously, we're going to verify that because it is my father."
"And we should verify. But I believed him, too. He didn't know. His
game is all surrounding you and your mother and Micah. I can't imagine the
horror he put you through."
"You don't have to."
"I know but my heart still breaks for little Atticus and Micah."
"We’re strong now. He can’t hurt us anymore. We can protect ourselves,
Gwen. He can’t touch us. And I'm not going to let anything touch you
either. You need to trust me."
 "I know. And I do. It just feels like this is going to go on forever, you
know?"
"I know. But for the time being, we'll try and focus on us. We got
married in a bit of a hurry, if you remember."
I grinned at him as he used his thumb and slid it over the middle of my
foot, smoothing it down my arch working out the perma-knot there from the
heels I wore constantly. "Oh my God," I moaned.
"Woman, if you don't stop making that sound, you're going to give me
ideas. And you said that I'm not allowed to shag you at the office anymore."
"I don't think it sets the best precedent if the CEO and the largest
shareholder can't keep their hands off each other."
He brought my foot up close, kissing the arch, and I met his gaze. "So
what does this mean? We're no closer to figuring out who wants me dead.
All I want to do is focus on us and what we're doing. I don't want to be
looking over our shoulders every second of every day. Maybe it's better if I
give you back the shares."
He shook his head. "You can't actually give them back. You can request
that Micah vote them for you, but you can't give them up. And you and I
both know that's not why someone was trying to kill you. Someone tried to
do that long before you were the most powerful woman in the tech industry.
We just have to figure out who."
His assistant knocked on the door, and Atticus called out, "Come."
Andrew gave me a smile and averted his gaze when he saw my bare feet
on Atticus's lap. "Atticus, three minutes until your next call. You're
supposed to meet now, but since Gwen is here, do you want me to push it
off for twenty minutes?"
Atticus shook his head. "No, I'll take the call if my wife doesn't mind
waiting for me."
Honestly, I knew I shouldn't get that warm fuzzy feeling every time he
said 'my wife,' but I couldn't help it. "I have things to do. I can't just sit
here."
Andrew's gaze volleyed between the two of us, and finally, he just
listened to his boss.
Atticus stood, offered me his hand, and then helped me up to my feet.
When I reached for my shoes, he shook his head. "No, no. You just come sit
with me."
"Oh no, you don't."
"It'll only take a minute. Ten minutes, tops."
"Argh, okay fine. But I have to leave eventually. I have things to do. I
need to make sure Jack isn't fucking with my team."
"How is that going?"
"When I said I needed a redundancy, he was not what I meant. I wanted
someone competent."
"Then put Macy in charge."
I lifted a brow. "Macy is good. She's extremely smart. She knows the
software almost as well as I do. Only caveat is she has no leadership
experience."
He shrugged. "Then give her some."
He lifted me up easily, placing me on the edge of his desk. “You sit
here.” When he took his call, I remembered the last time we were seated
like this, him on his call, me showing him what he was missing. I had ten
minutes before I had to go down and meet with Jack. Atticus narrowed his
gaze at me as he used a pen to flick up the edge of my skirt.
Oh, he wanted another show, did he? Maybe he wasn't going to get a
show. Maybe this time, he was going to get the whole she-bang.
Slowly, I lowered to my feet, letting my toes sink into the plush
carpeting by his desk. When I lowered to my knees, his eyes went wide, and
then his gaze slid to the door.
We forgotten to lock the door again, and since we'd almost gotten
caught last time, I reached over and hit the button under his desk, locking us
in together.
"Uh-huh. I really want to see those projections."
The timbre of his murmured response on the phone made my clit pulse.
It was terse and somewhat foreboding, and it vaguely reminded me of the
tone he used when he called me Ness, when it was dark and just us alone.
When I turned around and knelt before him, his teeth grazed his bottom lip,
and his gaze never left mine. He knew what this was. He knew what I was
planning on doing, and he was all for it.
I unzipped his pants and leaned forward, licking the glistening seam of
the tip of his cock, the salty taste of it exploding on my tongue. His hand
white-knuckled the arm of his chair as he involuntarily lifted his hips.
Try as he might though, he was unable to conceal his shiver.
He reached over to his phone, hit the speaker button then mute as he put
the phone back in its cradle.
“You fucking naughty minx. Is this what you want? My cock?”
I licked delicately again, and his head fell back, his hand going into my
hair and fisting tight… almost too tight.
I thought he might try to pull me away, but instead he held me still as he
lifted his hips, bringing the tip of his nine-inch cock just inside my pouty
mouth.
On the phone, Charles, or whoever, droned on about how beneficial the
investment would be financially as I sucked on just the tip of my husband’s
cock.
“Oh… fuck yes, like that…” Atticus moaned, his eyes clamped shut as
he took another deep breath.
Slowly, I took more of him in and used my hand to massage his heavy
sac, idly playing with him as I slid my middle finger up and down his cock.
He unmuted the phone. “We can discuss percentages later…” Then he
hit the mute button again as his other hand tightened in my hair. “Gwen…”
A warning—no, a plea—laced through his voice as I grinned around his
thick girth.
I slid my tongue just underneath the head of his cock, before sucking
hard, swirling it around in tight motions as he let out a strangled moan that
sounded suspiciously like a curse.
Atticus began to squirm in his seat as I continued to tease him, paying
extra attention to the sensitive spot just below the head. His hand continued
its vice-like hold on my hair, his body twitching and quaking under my
ministrations.
"Mmm, Gwen…" he managed to gasp out, his voice raspy and filled
with lust as he fought to keep his eyes open. "My Ness is such a dirty girl.
You like having me under your control?"
With a smirk, I released him from my mouth for a moment, staring up
into his eyes mischievously. "Oh, I do," I whispered, adding pressure to the
hand that was teasing his balls, causing him to let out a muffled groan.
I carefully slid a finger from where it had been teasing him downward,
gently applying pressure to his perineum before searching for the entrance
to his prostate. A choked moan ripped from his throat as my finger slipped
inside of him, and his grip on my hair tightened even more.
With a choked moan and shudder, his mouth fell open, his hard cock
swelling on my tongue. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Ness,” he ground out
through clenched teeth. Then he unmuted the phone, sweat popping on his
brow. "W-we can keep discussing the details through email," Atticus hastily
said as he struggled desperately to regain control of himself then hung up.
I pulled my mouth off his dick as I tentatively pressed on his prostate.
His body jolted as a thunderous moan echoed in the room. "Shit…
Gwen," he half-gasped, half-groaned, his free hand hitting the desk with a
thud. My one-handed ministrations were driving him to an edge he'd never
experienced before, and I reveled in it.
 "Like that?" I murmured against his now moist skin, my tongue flicking
out to taste the salty trails of pre-cum that were oozing from his tip.
"Yes. Yes… Fuck… More," he demanded, bucking his hips up and
pressing himself deeper into my mouth. His cock twitched as I hit a
particularly sensitive spot on his prostate, making me grin around his
throbbing length.
In response, I abandoned my slow rhythm and began to bob my head
faster along his shaft, my tongue swirling over every vein and ridge. Every
so often, I would pull back to suckle on just the tip before swallowing him
whole again.
The noises coming from Atticus were raw and primal, filling the room
with an intoxicating melody of pleasure. His hand pressed on my head,
urging me to take more of him into my mouth as he openly groaned at the
sensations coursing through him.
In spite of his impending climax, Atticus tried to regain control, his eyes
fluttering open to look at me. He watched as I slid my mouth off him
slowly, leaving a trail of saliva hanging between us before I swallowed him
whole again. Then his back arched, body shaking as his orgasm threatened.
My finger pressed onto his prostate again, and he let out a harsh groan
that echoed through the room. His hips snapped up, instinctively seeking
more contact as he fought against the pleasure coursing through him.
I loved every moment of this decadent dance between us. The scent of
him, his taste, the feel of his twitching cock on my tongue and inside my
mouth. I could feel him getting closer to the edge, pulse throbbing under my
touch.
"Shit, Gwen." He growled my name again as I increased my speed,
bobbing up and down on him roughly now.
His hand was white-knuckled as it held onto the edge of the desk while
his other continued its harsh hold on my hair, a silent plea for me not to
stop. I felt him quiver under my touch, a sure sign he was on the precipice
of sweet release.
"Fuck, Ness," he gasped, his whole body drawn taut and trembling. The
veins on his neck popped out and his face flushed deep red as he tried to
maintain a semblance of control. His eyes, wide and glossy, were locked
onto mine as if I held his very life in my hands.
I maintained eye contact, loving the way his pupils dilated when I
pressed down on his prostate. His response was instantaneous and powerful,
a loud groan that ricocheted off the walls of the office as my name slipped
from his lips like a prayer.
Watching him coming undone was enough to satiate me, but I didn't
want to let up just yet. I wanted him begging for release, so I continued with
the relentless rhythm of my ministrations.
His body bucked uncontrollably under me, desperate for relief that
seemed both within reach and miles away at the same time. His hips were
thrusting in sync with every bob of my head now, trying to dictate the pace.
With one final push against his prostate and eager suction from me,
Atticus finally let go. He groaned out my name again, louder this time as he
rocked up into my mouth desperately.
His grip on my hair tightened as waves of pleasure crashed over him,
washing away any coherent thought or control from his mind. His body
shuddered beneath me, every twitch and spasm magnified by the tight
confines of our intimate embrace.
The spasms racked his body, and I reveled in them, sucking him deeper
into my mouth, swallowing down every shot of his release that spilled from
him. He seemed lost in pleasure, his deep groans filling the room as he
came apart under my touch.
His face was a beautiful sight, a perfect mix of delicious agony and
immense pleasure. His eyebrows were furrowed tightly as he fought to keep
his eyes open, not wanting to miss any second of this moment. His mouth
hung open in a silent scream, and his breath came out in ragged pants that
further heightened the intoxicating atmosphere in the room.
With an earth-shattering moan that echoed around the office, Atticus
finally collapsed back into his chair, his hand still gripping my hair as if it
were the only thing grounding him. The frenzied pace we'd held moments
ago slowed to a relaxed rhythm as he took a moment to come down from
his high.
The intimate silence that blanketed us was filled with our staggered
breaths and the occasional soft sigh escaping from Atticus’s lips. Pulling
away slowly, I watched him carefully.
The power shifted back to Atticus after a few moments of panting
recovery. He roughly yanked me up his body then sloppily kissed me,
unabashed, unconcerned about tasting himself on my lips.
When he pulled back, his eyes were heavy-lidded. “I’m going to tan
your ass for that. You could have hurt yourself.”
I smirked at him as he gave me another hard kiss. “I’m already more
than tan. However will you tell?”
His brows lifted in surprise. “My wife is a brat now? Okay, good to
know. I’m going to spank you until you’re dripping for me. Then I’m going
to spread those beautiful cheeks and fill your ass like you seem to be
begging me to.”
A shiver of anticipatory pleasure ran down my spine at his words, a
delicious promise that sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through me. "Is
that so?" I managed to say, trying to sound nonchalant even though my
heart was pounding in my chest.
His eyes narrowed as he studied me, clearly not fooled by my blasé
tone. "You think I won't do it?" His voice was low and husky, a tone that
always made my skin tingle.
“You have another a call, and I have to go. I love you.”
 His eyes widened at my words, disbelief replacing the roguish spark
that had been dancing in his gaze just moments ago. "Gwen…"
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A tticus reached for me and I deftly avoided his grasp. "I have to go."
His phone rang, and his eyes narrowed into slits as he stared at me,
trying to pull me into his lap. "I love you." I whispered.
And that was the way I left him. Pants undone, dick out, still hard,
looking like he wanted to tear every piece of clothing off my body. Was I
horny? Hell, yeah. Was it worth it watching him come completely undone?
Absolutely. God, I loved him. Even though things were currently terrifying
and scary.
He was making it a point to make me feel loved, make me feel safe.
Every action, from making sure to slide smoothies in front of me on the
days I left too early to grab food, to making little gummy bear treats appear
out of nowhere when things were stressful with my team or when I was
poring over files of Pendragon and doing Micah's homework.
He was taking care of me. He was showing me how much he loved me
every day, and it was beautiful and fun. And we kept discussing the rule that
we weren’t going to shag in the office anymore, but honestly, that one was
hard to stop.
 Technically, I hadn't broken the rule. I had just sucked him off. That was
different.
I grinned to myself as I marched out of his office and waived at Andrew.
He gave me a broad smile that either said he had no idea what we'd been
doing in there and he was just being very friendly, or he knew exactly what
we'd been doing in there and he approved of me softening his boss's mood.
"Mrs. Price, erm Gwen, if Mr. Price comes looking for you, where
should I tell him you've gone?"
I shook my head at him. "He knows I have a meeting with Jack. I'll just
be in my team's bullpen when he's ready to go home.”
He gave me a nod. "Okay, I'll tell him."
I gave him a little wave with my fingers and headed down the stairs.
Jack shouldn't be left unattended too long. He couldn't ruin much, except
my team's morale. I think Atticus was right. While Jack was well
intentioned, he was not the best guy to manage the team. They didn't want
to follow him and he didn't know the software.
He was playing catch-up, and he was used to the kind of positions
where he just came in and led teams without having to get into the nitty-
gritty of the programming. My team was used to a hands-on leader. He was
always going to be a bad fit.
I’d decided I’d walk him through today and then talk to Macy about
taking on some leadership responsibilities. I hated the sound my heeled
boots made on the stairs as I went down the many flights, but there was no
way I was going on the stairs barefoot.
As I approached the fourteenth floor, someone else was opening the
door of the stairwell. I just automatically shifted to one side and kept
going.
I was already late, and I didn't have time for chitchat. I needed to wash
my hands and get a little centered if I was going to deal with Jack for the
next hour before we left.
 Whoever had opened the door seemed to be heading up instead of
down, and I kept moving. When I reached my floor, someone grabbed me
from behind. And before I could let out a scream, they had a hand over my
mouth and had shoved something dark over my head to obscure my vision,
but they didn’t get it all the way on before I saw where they were taking
me.
I was being dragged into the utility closet right next to my floor. I was
three feet from safety. Three feet from freedom.
I had a guard. Rowan would come and find me. Today was Rowan’s
day, right? Yes. I’d texted him as soon as I left Atticus's office. It wasn't
entirely feasible to have the guys on me at all moments of every day. So
they were stationed on our floors. Every single employee of Pendragon had
been vetted with an in-depth background check, but my guards were still
stationed all over the building just in case.
Like a fool, instead of just going to the elevator and grabbing an escort,
I’d opted for the stairs and told Rowan I'd see him in just a second. He was
three feet away. Three feet. All I had to do was open the door, and he'd be
there.
Instead, I was being dragged into darkness.
The hand loosened on my mouth, but before I could even gather a
breath to scream, duct tape was slapped over my mouth. Zip ties secured
my arms behind my back. I was so disoriented in the dark. And while
freedom was still only three feet away, it might as well have been miles.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself and think. Think about it, Gwen. Where
are you?
I was in Pendragon. This was my company, my home. So I had the
benefit of knowing the building well. Or as well as I could for someone
who had recently started. But since everyone in the building had been
cleared, whoever was trying to take me couldn’t know it as well as I did.
I was on the fourteenth floor, just outside of my own hallway.
 What's just outside that door?
Rowan. Safety.
Think.
Okay. Immediately, I tried to orient myself, and whoever grabbed me
shuffled around. I tried to move, but I was connected to some kind of post.
Shit.
Something came up to my lips and I tried to avoid it, but hands grabbed
at my hair, and they were gloved. Why were they gloved? Fingerprints,
probably. But they were thick gloves, like winter weather gloves. Why wear
those?
My abductor peeled the duct tape off my mouth sharply, causing micro
tears on my lips, then something was pushed to my mouth again. It seemed
like a thermos, but I didn't want it.
A hand tugged my hair back and poured the liquid into my mouth,
which I immediately spat out, fearing they were trying to poison me.
Whoever it was savagely released my head, shoving me forward and then
the tape was back. Then I heard a rustling of clothes, and the door opened
just enough for me to be aware of the brief wash of light. And then it was
completely dark again.
And I was tied to a post.
How the fuck was I going to get out of this one?
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 27
ATTICUS

I had just gotten off my call and put my dick to sleep when Rowan came
charging in. I expected to see Gwen right behind him as he'd been stationed
on her floor. But his eyes were wide, and his lips set in a firm line. "Did
Gwen leave?"
Those three little words sent me into a goddamn spiral.
"What do you mean, did Gwen leave?"
"Did Gwen fucking leave? She should have been downstairs ten
minutes ago, but she never came down. She texted me right before she left
your office. It should have taken her less than three minutes. I walked the
whole floor in case she somehow went to the other elevator, but she knew
where I always waited."
My heart stopped. I wasn't sure for how long, but it finally kicked into
rhythm again, and all I could do was stare at him. The worst-case scenario
had happened. My wife was gone.
I dragged in a sharp breath. "What do you mean?"
"We’ve lost the queen. We need everyone. Atticus, are you with me?"
 I swallowed hard and nodded as my brain slowly charged up. Gwen.
Gwen was gone.
It had happened. She had been here one second and was gone the next.
She’d said she was on her way to see Jack.
"Jack. Did you find Jack?"
Rowan frowned. "No, why?"
"That's who she was meeting. Maybe he met her up here?"
He was on his walkie-talkie in seconds, telling everyone to hunt down
Jack Farlow.
"We're searching floor by floor. Maybe she took the stairs instead of the
elevator,” Rowan suggested.
Oh, fuck.
I charged into the hallway, and the bile started to churn in my stomach
as the voices in my head started to play games with me.
You took your eye off the ball. You thought you could play happy family.
You didn't protect her enough. And now, someone has taken her.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Where the fuck was she? I just needed her safe and
sound and in my arms. I was never going to let her out of my sight again.
My body wanted to curl up and scream at the injustice. All she wanted
was her freedom, and when I found her, I couldn't let her out of my sight.
Fuck.
Rowan stepped off the elevator and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Look, we'll find her. Just maybe go back to your office in case she comes
back there."
I turned to stare up at him. "No. I should have made sure she got on the
elevator."
"Atticus, we’re doing a full sweep. I've got men on thirty, twenty, and
ten, all working their way down."
"I'll just start from here, going down."
 He nodded and handed me a security monitor panel before pointing out
which screens to pay most attention to.
"These are blind spots right here, here, and here. Most essentially go to
an office, and we have already checked all of those. She's not there, but
we’ve got to look everywhere." Then he fixed me with a deep stare again.
"We'll find her."
I nodded. I yanked open the door and started my hunt. I checked every
fucking office, every conference room. Hell, I looked under a couple of
desks. My executives stared at me. And when I stormed by Micah's office, I
could see surprise, but I didn't stop. I was on a mission, and I did not have
time to stop and chat.
Before long, I heard footsteps behind me and found my brother in my
wake. "What's wrong?"
"Gwen's gone. She left my office and told Rowan she was on her way
down. And just like that, she was gone."
He stared at me. "Fuck. Give me something to do."
"Grab a security panel, I'm taking this floor then heading down to the
next."
"Okay, I'll text Pierce. We're going to find her, Atticus."
And just like that, my brother was gone, also looking for her.
I hit the next floor, meticulously searching. And then next, which was
our records floor, which just made me think of her. I checked every closet,
every open panel. Anywhere that had space Gwen could squeeze into, I
searched. Someone had grabbed her.
She couldn’t have been taken out of the building. Rowan had already
checked the exits. She was still on the premises, which meant someone was
holding her somewhere.
As I searched, trying not to alarm my employees, my stomach churned.
I had fucking lost her. I did not deserve her. It wasn't until I had searched
my ten floors that Pierce's voice came over the walkie-talkie. "So far, we
haven't found her. I searched through all the footage from the last hour, and
she didn't leave the building. We need to put the building on lockdown."
My response was swift. "Lock it all down. No one gets out of this
building. If someone has her, we're going to rip him to shreds. I'm getting
my wife back today."
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 28
GWEN

My wrists were raw . How the hell was I going to get out of here?
Who the hell took me?
I tried to focus on anything that I remembered about the idiot who'd
taken me as I tried to push myself to my feet. But all I’d heard were steps
behind me. No voice, no nothing. My saving grace was that I was still in the
Pendragon building. No one had come to take me out of the building, and
we hadn't gone all the way downstairs. The bag over my head had served as
more of a surprise tactic than a transportation tactic. So all I needed to do
was get out of this damn utility closet before they came back for me.
I wasn't getting much sensory input in the dark, but I needed to figure
out an escape plan.
Think Gwen, think.
I knew my restraints weren't cuffs because there was no clanging, and
plastic cuffs would have broken a lot easier by now with all my shifting, so
it was definitely zip ties. But I had been left a little room to wiggle my
wrists around.
 What if they weren't trying to kill me, but scare me instead? It was a big
mistake, because all they'd managed to do was piss me the fuck off.
On your feet.
I kicked off my boots, trying not to think about whatever the hell I was
going to contract from the floor of whatever the hell closet I was in, and the
cold concrete on my feet made me shiver. But slowly, I pushed to my feet,
trying not to hyperextend my shoulders too much. I would need them in
functioning order in just a second.
I managed to bend one knee and get it under the other and then pushed
my weight forward as I shoved to my feet. Okay, I was standing. That was a
success. My head still swam from whatever the hell I'd been given. Was that
chloroform? Had I been injected? I was fighting for moments of awareness.
I had to get clearheaded. I was in the building. Atticus would find me.
Atticus, God. He would be so terrified. And completely impossible to
live with, because he would no longer let me out of his sight.
Which is fair.
I tested the pole I was against. It was a skinny pole. Probably some kind
of water line?
Unfortunately, my hands had been secured behind my back, so no
relatively easy zip tie escape. Morgan and I were into true crime and spent
many hours watching videos on how to escape zip ties even though we
would likely never be in that situation.
Never say never.
I had a little room, but not much. My brain tried to work out all the
ways I knew of getting zip ties off. I tried raising my hands behind me, and
bringing the force down behind the pole. I tried and tried, but my shoulders
started to scream.
Come on, Atticus. Come for me.
And God, I hoped he'd fucking come for me before whoever had shoved
me in here came back. What was the plan though? How did they plan to get
me out of here? They were probably going to wait until the whole building
was empty and then take me out through the service elevator or something.
Somewhere there was a blind spot.
I winced again as I attempted to break myself lose, my shoulders
screeching in pain. Fucking hell, this was going to require physical therapy
again. I just knew it was. but I needed to free myself, regardless of the
physical damage it might cause.
Something clanged behind me, and I frowned and then remembered
they'd tied something around my mouth after they reapplied the duct tape.
What was that? I just needed to get it off my damn mouth.
I tried to twerk my body to reach the knot at my neck. With a series of
pulls and tugs, I was able to unravel the knot.
Breathing heavily, I worked one end of the tie around the zip tie at my
wrist. I wrapped it around, shoving my fingers, pulling and tugging, until I
had it done once. And then I prayed to God I remembered how to do this
correctly after only watching the YouTube video once.
I worked the other end of the tie and looped it around my other hand.
With both hands together, I looped it back around. The next part would be
the impossible part. On my tippy-toes, I raised my heels against the back of
the pole and then pulled the tie and zip tie as taught as possible against my
back. Dragging in several deep breaths, I tried to visualize myself, full
weight forward. Visualize my hand coming loose. I bent all the way
forward, bringing the zip tie taught against the pole as I tried to bring my
face all the way down to my toes.
The problem was, I was not particularly stretchy. I really should have
done more yoga. Atticus had said that along with the training for self-
defense, they'd also work on my flexibility, saying that I would find it a
whole lot of fun when he showed me how well he could use it in the
bedroom.
Not that I didn't believe him, but the man was incorrigible.
 The forward momentum helped me get my head down further, and I
tugged, pushing my heels against the pole and my frozen toes on the
ground.
I tugged, and tugged, but all I could feel was a little bitty slip.
Think of Atticus, damn it. You are going home to see your husband. You
are not going to sit here in the dark waiting for some psychopath to come
and kill you.
Just thinking about Atticus's face and how much he would blame
himself, thinking about how much he would hurt, made me tug harder.
Thinking of my sister. Atticus would protect her. I knew he would. Atticus,
and Micah, and Lance. They would all protect Morgan. The boys too.
Pierce, and Gavin, and Sven, the lot of them. But she was my baby sister.
No one could protect her better than me. Atticus would break. And I didn't
want him breaking on my behalf. So, I needed to get the fuck out of these
restraints.
With another grunt, I pulled forth with all the energy I could muster.
And then suddenly, my full weight propelled me forward. I had barely a
second to brace my hand in front of me before I landed forward on the
concrete and hit my head.
But thank Christ, I was free.
I grabbed my wrist with the zip tie still attached and held it to my chest,
massaging my shoulder. I was much better, but fucking hell did that hurt.
My shoulders screamed, and physical therapy was going to be unpleasant
this week.
I yanked the bag off my head and removed the duct tape from my
mouth, but still had no light to see by. I bent down and felt around on the
floor, finally locating and grabbing my boots. But instead of putting them
on, I decided maybe it was better if I use them as weapons. I felt around for
the door. When I turned the knob and ran out, the light blinded me, and I
ran straight into a wall… of muscle.
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 29
ATTICUS

H eaven .
That was hiding behind door number two hundred and four. At least
that's what it felt like. I had opened every damn door in this building
myself, personally.
While Pierce, Rowan, Gavin, and Lance had continued to prowl over
security cameras, talk to witnesses, and pull footage from across the street
to make sure that Gwen hadn't, in fact, left the building in some way, I had
opened every damn door, starting from the top floor down. And just like
that, I opened the door to the utility room on the fourteenth floor, and out
she spilled, right into my arms as if she had never left me.
My arms wrapped around her body, and I held her close as she shook.
"I've got you, Gwen."
When the loud, racking sobs escaped her body, I only cuddled her
tighter. "It's me, baby. I have you. Ness, you're safe now. I'm not letting you
go."
She tried to pull back, but I couldn't let her go. All I could do was pull
her tighter, eventually scooping her up and bracing my back against the wall
as I held her and slid down, cuddling her to my body.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should never have let you walk out of my
office alone."
She didn't say anything. All she did was cry. Then the walkie-talkie
went off, and Lance's strained voice said, "We have more footage, but none
of it shows Gwen leaving the building."
I snapped out of it and realized everyone needed me to be tough. I
picked it up and then pressed the button. "I have her. Repeat, I have her.
Fourteenth floor, near the utility closet. Send the EMTs up."
She shook her head. "I don't need EMTs."
"I don't give a fuck what you think you need right now. This is what I
need. I need you looked over from head to toe."
Lance's voice rang clear. "Over."
I dropped the walkie to cradle her face in my hands. "Baby, are you
okay?"
Tears were streaming down her face, leaving tear tracks in the dirty
smudges. "I-I… Physically, I think I'm fine. A little dizzy. They put a black
bag over my head. And then—” She choked back a sob as a shudder racked
her body.
I shook my head. "You don't have to talk about it. I have you. I was
coming for you."
"And I was coming for you. I knew that you weren't going to survive if I
stayed put and let them kill me. I was so scared, Atticus."
"I know. I was scared too. I'm so sorry, baby. I shouldn't have let you
walk out of my office alone. Fuck."
She shook her head. "No, I-I think someone was waiting for me."
"What?"
"Yeah. It was almost as if someone knew that I liked to use the stairs,
and that obviously, I spent a lot of time on your floor and mine. It was so
easy. They just clocked me from behind, and they knew exactly where to
stash me."
"Baby, it's okay. My lioness… You saved yourself. You didn't need me. I
have been rendered obsolete." I tried for levity. Anything to quell my rising
panic and hers. I had to make her feel okay. I hadn't been able to protect her.
But now, I wasn't taking any of this for granted.
You haven't been. Sometimes bullshit happens.
I refused to acknowledge that. I refused to accept that bullshit just
happened. I had to have some semblance of control, otherwise, what was
the whole fucking point?
"Did he hurt you?"
She licked her busted lip. "I-I fell. I think I cut my head open when I hit
the cement in there. But other than a kick to the abdomen, I'm okay, I
think."
"We're going to have you checked out, okay?"
I could hear the EMTs coming down the hall.
"Why didn't anyone hear you shout for help?"
"Because I was bound and gagged and only just now got the stupid gag
off. I used it to help me get the zip ties off." She held up her wrists. One that
was reddened and bruised, but free. The other, also red, but still bound by a
zip tie.
"I'm going to fucking kill him."
"We have to find them first, Atticus. I'm scared. I'm so scared."
"Baby…" What could I say though? She should be scared. She
absolutely should be. We weren't any closer to finding out who was trying
to hurt her, and that motherfucker had gotten her in one of the places she
should be absolutely safe. All I wanted to do was encapsulate her in bubble
wrap and hide her somewhere safe like before.
"I really want to send you somewhere. A fucking fortress. But I won't do
that to you again. If you go, I go too. We'd go together and tuck away,
because I can't—" My voice broke, and I tucked her face to my chest once
more. "I can't take the idea of something like this happening to you again.
We'll run."
Gwen wriggled in my arms. "No. I'm not doing that again. If they want
me, they can come and get me. Use me as bait. Whatever we need to do. I
refuse to be scared for the rest of my life. You're my husband. I love you,
and I want to be with you. But I refuse for us to be scared. I want a normal
life. I want one where I can roam the stairwells of my own damn company
and entice you to go get a smoothie with me. I want us to walk the streets
without very large men following behind us, or in front of us for that matter.
I want to just drive. I want to not worry about someone grabbing my sister
to get to us. I want us to have a normal life, Atticus. I'm not hiding
anymore. I'm done."
I heard her. I understood her. I knew why she wanted this, but what
could I do? Every time I turned around, there was a new threat that I
couldn't see clearly. "Right now, I'm not making any decisions, okay? Just
let me hold you."
She lifted her head and met my gaze, her eyes stormy. "All I thought
about was you. I'm not leaving you, I promise. They're going to have to take
us both, because there is no way in hell I'm leaving without you either."
I held her tight. When I found out who was terrorizing us, I was going
to kill them slowly as I watched their life leave their body, and I was going
to enjoy it.
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 30
GWEN

I woke up alone in the dark. Panic flooded my veins immediately.

It took me several moments after sitting up to realize that I wasn't cold.
There was no hard concrete beneath my ass. I was warm. In bed. I was safe.
The sliver of moonlight through the floor-to-ceiling windows told me I
was at home with my husband. I curled into him, only to find that last
statement to be untrue. I patted his side of the bed, finding it empty and
cool.
What the fuck?
He hadn't pulled the covers taught like he normally did when he had left
to work out or something. No, his side of the sheets were rumpled and a
little bit damp. Was he sweating?
I quickly checked the bathroom, but there was no light on, and he wasn't
taking a shower. I grabbed the T-shirt that had long been discarded two
hours ago when Atticus had thrown it somewhere over his head and
proceeded to show me just how much he'd missed me. I dragged it over my
naked body, but I didn't bother with underwear. I padded down the hallway
and followed the light that was on in the kitchen.
 And that was where I found him. On the floor of the pantry, his head in
his hands, elbows on his knees, completely silent.
Quietly, I went to him and sat myself across from him, our toes
touching. When he lifted his head, I saw the tears streaking down his face,
and I wanted to hold him. I wanted to just reach over and grab him in my
arms and tell him that it was okay, that I was okay, but I knew somehow
that would be the wrong move.
"I don't know what to do,” he choked out. “I can't fix this for you. I can't
make it better. Everything I try ends in disaster. Someone is after you, and I
can't even protect you. Maybe my father is right; I am a useless piece of
shit. I keep trying to protect you, but all I do is put you in danger. We need
to leave."
"Atticus, not this again. We're not leaving."
He clapped a hand to his chest. "Then tell me what to do, Gwen. This is
my fault. We are in this predicament because of me. Whether it's my father,
or Bronson, or someone else, they are coming after you because of me.
Because I was unwilling to let you go. Because I chose you. Because they
want revenge. And the easiest way to get to me is through you. I can't even
keep you safe because I am unwilling to let you go again. If I was smart, I
would have told Pierce to kidnap you and put you on a plane to
Bumblefuck, Nowhere, and keep you there under lock and key. But I'm
weak. I can't stand to be apart from you, and all I care about is your
happiness and safety."
I knew he had to get this out, so I didn't bother interrupting and telling
him that the only way Pierce was getting me on a plane without him was by
killing me. I figured now was not the time for jokes. Not when he was this
distraught.
"Everything I touch turns to shit. Just like my father fucking said."
This time, I scooted to him, intertwining our legs, and I took his hands.
"Your father is a lying, narcissistic, sadistic user. That's it. That's all. He's
not special. He's not magic. He's not powerful. We beat him. You, me,
Micah, your mother, all of us together. We don't do anything apart. And I
refuse to let you listen to that voice in your head. The one that he
programmed. Seeing how Micah reacts to him and hearing the things he
said to your brother just confirms he is the worst kind of human. But out of
him, came the best thing in my life. You are good, and kind, and smart.
You're shrewd and savvy, and you are mine. All mine. We're not running,
Atticus. We do have to figure out some things, and maybe I need to stay
home for a bit. Not because I'm hiding, but because we need a really good
plan where I act as bait."
His brows immediately snapped down. "If you think⁠—"
"That's just the thing, Atticus, either we let ourselves be controlled like
your father controlled you your whole life, or we go on the offensive. But
we're not going to talk about that right now. Right now, we're going to talk
about why you're in here instead of in bed with me."
He rubbed the back of his hand over his nose. "I didn't want you to see
me like this."
My heart broke in two. I had never seen him cry before. Not properly
like this. Emotions fully out. I had never seen him let go enough.
"I messed up."
"You didn't mess up, Atticus. I should have just gone straight to Rowan.
I should have been in the elevator. The point is, someone knew I took the
stairs. That someone is the one at fault. And the next time you are worried,
or scared, or upset, you come to me. You don't hide in the pantry,
understand?."
"To be fair, I didn't intend to hide in the pantry. I came for Oreos."
I mock-gasped and clutched my hand to my chest. "All the sugar,
Atticus, honestly."
He shrugged. "Dad would never let us have them. Whenever Micah or I
were upset, Mom would sneak us a few. She kept them in her bedside table
in the bottom drawer. Sometimes we would go in there and sneak a few
ourselves. Our housekeeper at the time was sleeping with my father, so she
told him everything going on around the house, and that's why Mom had to
hide the cookies. Anyway, I came to see if we had any."
"I think we do. Have you ever put them over ice cream?"
"Isn't that just Oreo ice cream?"
I frowned. "Why on earth would you put them over vanilla?"
He shook his head, knowing exactly where I was going with this. "No,
please don't tell me you put Oreo crumbles over other flavors."
"It's the best. Oreos over sherbet is chef’s kiss."
He made a gagging sound, and I could see the hold the fear had on him
dissipating slightly. Instead of dark, anguished storm clouds, it was more
like the gray ones that maybe promised some rain, but not doom.
"Come on, I'll show you."
He shook his head. "No, I can't watch you eat something that disgusting.
Maybe we'll just eat the Oreos."
"Okay. Just Oreos is good too. They're delicious. Oh, maybe Oreos and
gummy bears. Hold on, I have a stash." I made to get up, but instead, he
pulled me down onto his lap.
"That's okay. Maybe just stay here for a minute." I met his gaze, and his
eyes searched mine. "I'm so sorry, Gwen."
"My life changed dramatically after meeting you on that balcony. That
glitter-bombing was accidental, because I do not control the wind, but I like
to think it was my mom giving me the love that I so desperately needed
then. You brought nothing but good into my life, Atticus, whether you
choose to see it that way or not. Now, it's you and me till death do us part. I
mean, unless you're like super into me having one of those why-choose
situations, in which case⁠—”
He tugged me forward and planted a harsh kiss on my lips. "I'm the only
choice you’ve got. Remember that."
 "Oh, good. I'd rather not think about the extra dicks anyway. Just you
and your very big⁠—"
He kissed me again, more harshly, as if pouring every drop of emotion
into the kiss and attempting to sear our souls together. When he pulled back,
his eyes were clear. "I love you, Gwen."
"And I love you, Atticus."
"And just so you know, for the foreseeable future, you and I go nowhere
without the other. I'm not going to keep you in prison, but wherever you
are, I’ll be there too. Because you're right; till death do us part. I'm not
taking any more risks. You're my wife. And I'm your husband. Whatever we
do, we do together."
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 31
GWEN

T rue to his word , Atticus hadn't gone all me Tarzan, you Jane on me.
But he had, very quietly, made sure that everywhere I went, he went.
Andrew had worked with my new assistant, Maya. I still had Carrie too,
of course, but my new position as majority shareholder made the workload
more than she could handle on her own. I turned up at work and there was
Maya. She said she was there to make my life easier.
Honestly, it was very handy, because those smoothies Atticus liked to
make me drink, she brought them to me.
She also brought one to him.
Because he was right there in my office. All the time. He had
completely abandoned his. If he had a meeting, I joined him. And if I had a
meeting, he joined me. He tried to give my team a little bit more privacy,
because they would clam up if he was in their presence, but he was never
more than ten feet away.
If I worked from home, he worked from home. It had been like this for a
week.
 He hadn't hired more people; he just made it a point that we were going
to be together.
He also made it a point that under no circumstances was he going to
revisit the conversation I had brought up after I had escaped. I wanted to be
used as bait to draw out the person trying to kill me. But no. I'd even
brought it up to Pierce and Gavin. Gavin laughed like I was insane. Pierce
just shook his head, even though I could tell he thought it wasn't a bad idea.
"You're going to keep staring at him? It's disconcerting the way you two
ogle each other."
I turn to Lance on the balcony of the penthouse. "What do you mean?"
"You are so aware of each other. And now every time you go out or you
do anything, there he is, like a controlling boyfriend."
I frowned at him. "It's not like that."
"No, I know. I'm just saying it's odd. Never any time apart?"
"If I tell him I need a minute, he goes into another room. Not at work
though. At work we are together."
Lance shrugged and took a sip of his scotch. "I can't actually say I
blame him for that one."
"Yeah."
"He was terrified, Gwen."
"I know. I just think that living like this is not going to work for the long
term. He dragged me to work out with him yesterday. Me, working out. I
mean, I love a good Pilates Reformer class, but his trainer is a masochist.
There were weights involved."
Lance laughed. "There she is. There's my Gwen."
"Enough about this whole fucked up situation, which you hear about
nonstop. Please, tell me something good."
He shifted on his feet and didn't look me in the eye. "I—I think I like
someone."
 Oh my God. "Fucking, at last. I mean look, I'm not thrilled about the age
difference, but I think it’s amazing that clearly you two have a thing, and I
think that if you're careful and maybe just give her some time before you
progress too far, it might actually really work out. Two people I love the
most. I mean—" I'd been prattling on, but I realized that Lance was giving
me a stricken look, and he just looked ill.
"What are you talking about?"
I frowned and glanced around. "What are you talking about? You and
Morgan, right?"
He reared back as if I'd slapped him. "Morgan? No, that's disgusting.
She's eighteen."
"Oh, come on. She'll be nineteen in a another month. And like I said,
she needs some time to have fun and be young and shit. But you’re only
twenty-six. It's not the end of the world. I mean, I don't think you two
should move in together or anything like that yet, but if you want to date
my sister and see if this insane chemistry thing that you have going on is for
real, I'm down with it. I love both of you."
He shook his head vehemently. "No. She's just a kid, and I've known her
since she was a little kid. That's⁠—"
Shit. How the hell had I gotten that wrong? "Okay, sorry I brought it up.
Clearly I was wrong."
"What's with you and Atticus?” he asked incredulously. “You should be
looking out for Morgan. She needs someone her own age, some college guy
who's worried about his internships. Not me."
"I'm sorry, Lance, but you have to see it. You are one of the smartest
guys I know. You're telling me you do not see the Morgan thing?"
He shook his head. "I—No. Never going to happen. And you’ll be
happy to know I’m dating. There’s a girl. A woman. Her name is Elia. It’s
newish, but she’s appropriate. The right age. She’s smart. And she—" He
shook his head. “She’s appropriate, Gwen. I need that.”
 I blinked slowly, sure I wasn’t hearing that right. "Elia. You're for real?"
For some reason, I couldn’t see it. Was he serious? Who was this woman?
He nodded. "Yeah. I am. I need appropriate. Someone steady."
I watched him warily, pretty sure I was being punked. "This Elia, what
does she look like?"
"She's tall, with blond hair. Her mother's Scandinavian."
"Scandinavian," I parroted back. Every single girlfriend I’d ever known
Lance to have had dark hair and was shorter and curvier, like my sister.
Some tall, willowy blonde didn't seem like it fit. It took me a moment to
realize he was still talking.
“And technically, Atticus wasn't your type either.”
I rolled my eyes. “Atticus is everyone's type. You have eyeballs. That
man is fine.” But he had a point. I had tended to go for the guys who looked
geekier and nerdier. The ones not encased in quite so much self-confidence.
You have to try harder. This is Lance, and he’s excited. Be there. Support
him.
"I'm sorry. I'm just surprised. You caught me off guard."
He shrugged. "It's all right. Yeah, so anyway, at some point, I'd like you
to meet her. She's very interested in meeting you because I talk about you
all the time."
Oh God. What had he said exactly? "Right. Of course. I'm so happy for
you, Lance."
I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight, trying to let all the
love I felt for him and his happiness really seep in. "I was just surprised. I
thought you and..." I shook my head. “Never mind.”
"No, it's fine."
"Big step for you."
He lifted a brow. "Be nice, Gwen."
"I am being nice. I am genuinely happy for you. You know that's all I've
ever wanted."
 He fixed me with his serious eyes. "And that's all I've ever wanted for
you. You know that."
"Yeah. I know."
"You seem happy with Atticus, assassin notwithstanding."
I choked out a laugh. "Oh my God. For real?"
He laughed at that. "Only you would have an assassin on you and still
be like, ‘Oh, but I have to get this release out.’"
"Hey, I take work very seriously."
His laugh was so easy and familiar. "I know. But I'm glad that you are
letting yourself enjoy life a little bit. That's all I ever wanted for you."
"Thanks. And when Elia comes, I will take her to lunch or something.
Provided I'm allowed to leave the house by then."
"You'll be allowed to leave the house. I promise.” He reached out and
squeezed my hand. “This will all be over soon."
There was no way any of us could be sure of that. "We hope so. But last
I checked, bestie, you are not clairvoyant."
"I may not be, but I have a hunch."
"Let's hope your hunches are right."
The door to the balcony busted open, and out came Morgan.
"So this is where you two are hiding."
I must have made a funny face at her, because she hesitated before
rushing to explain. "I swear, whatever Lance said I did, I didn't. It's not my
fault. He was bad at teaching me how to drive clutch."
What on earth? I frowned at Lance. "You were teaching Morgan to drive
clutch?"
He shifted on his feet. "It's stupid that she doesn't know how. In case of
emergency, she should always have a way out of a situation."
She rolled her eyes. "I stripped his clutch, and now he's mad at me."
I watched as the muscle in his jaw ticked. "No, I'm pissed at you
because you called the goddamn Maserati pretentious then proceeded to
drive it like you were Hamilton with Verstappen on his ass."
My sister shrugged. "Well, I mean, I tried. Maybe if you weren't yelling
all the time."
I winced and backed up as I watched the two of them. From zero to
sixty in two seconds. How the hell could he not see that the two of them
were a match made in, well, not quite heaven. But they had so much
tension, and their chemistry was off the charts.
He was right that Morgan was young. And to me Lance was just Lance,
but he was older. But when I saw the way they reacted to each other, my
brain just said, Oh God, get a room. I knew my mind had gone on a little
vacay when the next words I heard were, "God, you are such a pain in the
ass. It's no wonder you don't have a girlfriend."
"Well, I do, as a matter of fact, and she's coming here in two weeks.
Hell, I might even make her my fiancée."
And that's when I tuned back in.
My gaze darted to Morgan's, and I watched as her face fell. Witnessing
someone else's heartbreak was beyond painful.
But she was my sister. She was strong and tried to recover. "Oh God, I
feel sorry for her. Well, at least you won't be a menace to the women of
New York any longer."
When I looked at Lance, there was something in his expression. Worry?
Sadness? Regret? "When she arrives, you can meet her."
"Oh my God, yes. I can't wait to meet her," Morgan said, sarcasm
dripping from every word. "Hopefully she will not be as insufferable as you
are."
And with that, my sister turned and headed back inside. One glance at
Lance told me he was going back to the scotch.
"So what the fuck was that Lance?"
His gaze darted to mine and then away quickly. "That was me shutting a
door."
OceanofPDF.com
 32
ATTICUS

I checked the security monitor for the fifth time just to make sure Gwen
was okay while she visited with Lakewood. I had a meeting that couldn’t be
put off, so I’d come in for it, and Micah had made me stay for a drink.
"You know, I'm impressed with you not losing your shit."
I lifted a brow. Had I gotten that good at masking? "I am. But that’s not
what Gwen needs right now. She needs me calm and present. So I’m
thinking about some kind of sabbatical, just the two of us, and getting her
out of here."
My brother watched me surreptitiously from the corner of his eye. "You
seem very calm."
I shrugged. "I am. I know what to do now. Before I didn't know what to
do. I couldn't fix it."
My brother's sighed. "You know I love you, right?"
I smirked at him. "Yes, Merlin. Drop your wisdom on me."
He gave me a knowing smile and nodded. "My liege."
"You can feel free to call me King Arthur if you like," I said with a
smirk.
 My brother rolled his eyes. "No chance. But seriously, I do love you."
I shrugged. "Yeah, I know." It wasn't the norm for Micah to openly
express his feelings. He did it from time to time, but usually he was an
actions kind of guy.
"So I want you to hear me where I'm coming from, but this is bullshit.
You're scared, and you have given up. I can see the toll it's taking on you.
You realize you haven't left your wife alone in ten days, right? Like, from
where we're sitting right now, enjoying our very fine Lagaluvin, you can see
her from here."
What the hell was his point? "It works better this way. You don't know
what it's like for the person you love to just… Poof."
He shifted in his seat. "Maybe I don't know that kind of pain. But I love
her like a sister, so I did feel it. I mean, I don't love her like you love her,
but I love you both, and it hurts."
"Right? Then you should understand."
"I understand the compulsion. But because I love her too, I can see
you're about to start smothering her."
The fuck? "She understands. She doesn't mind."
"I know she doesn't mind, but at some point she's going to want to use
the bathroom without having to check in with you. At some point, she's
going to want to get fresh air without you. It's a mark of a healthy
relationship. Her ability to be on her own. Your ability to be on your own."
"I know what healthy looks like. I am currently not there." But someone
tried to take her from me. What the fuck else was I supposed to do? She
already didn’t want me murdering anyone.
"That's what I'm saying. Look at how tense you are."
"That's because someone tried to kill my fucking wife," I ground out
through clenched teeth.
"I know. It's not fair, and it's not right. But if you start trying to chain
her to your side, you are going to smother the light that is her. The very bits
that you loved about Gwen, from her glitter bomb, to that bright-ass smile,
to her obsession with gummy bears, for the love of Christ. You're going to
steal all of that light if you keep doing this."
My heart squeezed at that. "What am I supposed to do, Micah?" I
drained my glass, the burn constricting my throat as it slipped down my
esophagus and into my belly.
"Love her and understand what she's going through. I mean, I know
what you're going through. I've seen it. But imagine her being scared all the
time, needing to look over her shoulder only to find that her husband is
right there. You know that meme on social media, the one about every time
a woman is enjoying herself, there's a man in the corner all in her
business?"
I frowned. "No."
He shrugged. "Whatever. You get the idea."
I watched her with Lakewood. Morgan had joined them out on the
balcony, and of course, Lakewood and Morgan were having their tense little
situation.
"You see that shit with Lakewood? What's up with him?"
Micah chuckled. "I don't know, but I caught him on the phone earlier,
and he was using that I'm trying to get some voice."
"Ew.” A shudder racked my body.
My brother laughed. "A tender one, like the kind of voice you use with
Gwen."
"Well, I use all the good voices with Gwen."
This time Micah shuddered. "Oh God, you’re going to make me gag.”
"Are you sure it wasn't Morgan he was talking to?" I asked.
He pointed at the three of them on the balcony. "Does that look like he's
speaking to her softly?"
"Yeah, good point,” I conceded. “How long do you think it's going to
take for him to realize that he's into her?"
 Micah shrugged. "He probably won't know until it's too late."
"Oh, fantastic. And then of course he's going to need to talk to Gwen
about it."
He laughed. "I see you're getting used to him."
"I’ll admit he's come in handy."
My brother smirked at me. "Right. Handy. You like him."
"I do not."
"If you say so,” he teased.
"I do say so."
"Look, just think about what I said and figure out the best way to ease
up on Gwen, okay? Because I know you're scared. I've seen this look on
your face before when you were desperate to protect your mom. And
obviously, I understand it. I am desperate to protect her too, but not like
this. You have to talk to her. And keep talking to her. Listen to her. Because
she may have an idea about all this that you're not willing to listen to."
I narrowed my eyes at my brother. "Oh, for fuck’s sake. She brought up
the using-her-as-bait thing to you too?"
Micah shrugged. "It’s not the worst idea we've ever heard, and it
expedites this bullshit. At least we’d draw whoever it is out in the open."
"We are not putting her at risk. I’m not going to have it."
"That's what I told her. I'm just saying that discussing it might be a good
idea."
"Yeah, whatever."
"Mate,” he said impatiently, “she just really needs you to love her.
That's all. She doesn't need a protector. You've got hired men for that. You
need to give her what she needs, not what you need."
"Is that what all your books say?"
"Well, most of my books just say to growl at her a lot and say filthy
things. But somewhere there is always a revelation of feelings, and
listening, and communication, and all that shit."
 "Right, maybe I'll start with the growling thing."
"Oh of course, that's where you'll start. Just growl that you love her then
start listening."
I watched her laugh at something Lakewood said, and then she dropped
an arm around her sister's shoulders, tugging her in tight. Then suddenly,
Morgan charged back inside, and she looked pissed.
As I watched my wife, I wondered how much of what Micah said was
true. All I wanted to do was protect her, but maybe I needed to let her fight.
OceanofPDF.com
 33
GWEN

S omeone must have said something to Atticus. If I had to guess, it was

either Micah or Lance. Because that morning, he woke up, kissed me on the
lips, and told me he was giving me a day to myself. It had been almost two
weeks of him hovering. Sweetly hovering. Making the kind of love to me
that I was pretty sure only happened in Micah's romance novels, often three
times a day. It was how I woke up. It was how I went to bed, and when we
worked from home, lunch consisted of me first. I was not complaining. But
it was nice to finally have silence in the house. It was hard to feel like he
wasn't constantly worrying or looking over my shoulder.
Before he left though, he left me specific instructions for the panic room
and told me that Sven and Rowan were just down the hall in the other
penthouse.
He'd rented it out just for my safety. The old flat that I'd been using
while we were hiding our marriage from his father was too far away. I made
a face about the cost, but Atticus did not care. "What good is money if I
can't use it for what we need?"
 Anyway, when I finally woke up for good around seven-thirty, I took
my bodyguards with me for a workout in the gym. Sven used the time for
more self-defense training.
"So unnecessary, Sven."
"No, it's not. You've already needed it once." He said it with a grim face
lined with worry, like an older brother. I had no idea how old Sven was.
With his short hair and his naturally craggy face, it was hard to tell. Sven
did not take it easy on me at all. He showed me how to escape from a choke
hold, how to escape an attacker trying to grab me from behind, and how to
slip from an attacker trying to grab my arms. Quick lessons on how to
breathe, so I didn't panic and I could think.
When I got back to the penthouse, I heard bustling in the kitchen, and I
called out before I headed down the hall to grab a shower. "Magda, don't
bother with a smoothie. There's this new scone place down the block, and I
think I'm going to grab one from there. Do you want me to get you one after
I shower?"
She didn't respond, so I rounded the corner. I could hear humming in the
kitchen, figuring she probably had her earbuds in.
But when I turned left instead of right to let her know I was home, it
wasn't Magda who smiled at me. "Ah, Gwen darling, there you are."
My eyes went wide, and my gaze flickered around. "What are you doing
here, Lucy?"
She grinned. "Well, I saw Magda at the service entrance when I was
parking my car. Obviously, Magda and I are friends, so she let me up. Isn't
that sweet?"
I started backing up. Could I make it to the panic room?
You’re being paranoid. Maybe Lucy is looking for Morgan.
"Right. Well, I don't think Morgan's here. She has classes this morning."
She frowned. "Are you sure? She told me to come this morning."
 "Yeah, she's got classes all day. Her schedule is right there on the
refrigerator. Where's Magda?"
"Oh, she wanted to have a lie down. She'd done some shopping, so I
helped her bring it in." She indicated one of the bags on the counter, and I
recognized the label from one of the stalls at the Farmers’ Market down the
street that we liked to go to.
"Right. So she must have told you already that Morgan is not here,” I
said as I started to back up.
As I retreated, Lucy advanced. "You know, she might have mentioned
it. But I figured since you're almost always here, you and I could talk."
"I'm not sure what you want to talk about."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
And no Atticus today. Fucking hell. How on earth had this happened?
My brain tried to work it all out. Was it Lucy trying to kill me? But that
wouldn't make any sense. Lucy didn't know how to shoot anyone. She was
a socialite.
But still, every instinct in my body told me to run. To head down to the
panic room and lock myself in. Atticus had told me to listen to my instincts,
so I inched to the left.
Lucy took another step toward me. "You see, you and I have so much in
common, you know? You're fucking my man."
"I beg your pardon?" That made me halt. "You and Atticus have been
over for a long time now."
"Yeah, about that. We haven't been. We have been sleeping together this
entire time. He only married you because of that deal with your father."
For one brief, horrifying moment, the axis of my world tilted. After all,
Lucy was the right fit for him. She was a socialite. The right kind of
socialite. Blond, refined, what people expected. He’d never have to explain
to anyone how or why she was his wife. They’d never have to endure the
double takes and the questioning looks because she fit what people
expected of him.
But just as the thought started to take hold, I looked at her. Really
looked at the gleam in her eye, and I knew she was lying.
I pretended to sob and clutch my chest for one second, and then I took
off running. I was faster and stronger than she was, so I didn't even pay
attention to the thumping feet behind me. I just kept running. Twenty feet.
Fifteen. Ten.
And then pain flashed along my back, right at the same shoulder the
bullet had struck. And my brain went fuzzy as a wave of dizziness took me.
I screamed, clutching my shoulder as I continued to try and run, but that
stab had caused me precious moments, and she was on me then.
She kicked me, and I went sprawling to the floor. She climbed on top of
me, wrenching the knife out of my shoulder for a second of blessed relief.
But I knew if I stayed like that, she was going to stab me in the back.
Literally.
I forced in a deep breath, just like Sven had taught me. Deep in, short
one out. I tightened every muscle in my body then did what he’d taught me,
drawing elbows to knees and bucking her off me.
Once she was off and went sprawling before me, I grabbed the knife
that she'd lost and cast it behind me somewhere. If she wanted to fight me,
she was going to have to fight me unarmed.
I screamed, “Avalon, Avalon!” That was the code word, and I prayed to
God the guys could hear me next door. "Avalon! Avalon!"
Meanwhile, Lucy launched herself at me again, aiming for my face. But
I ducked and tucked my shoulders straight into her ribs, sending her
sprawling back again and landing on top of her.
She thumped at my back to no avail, but then she had better success
because she grabbed at my ponytail, yanking my head back, and I had no
choice but to release her. I staggered backward, and then she punched me in
the throat.
And there went my fight. I couldn't breathe. I grasped at my throat as if
I could claw the air in there myself.
Then she punched me in the gut and launched herself at me again,
hitting me with an elbow. And when I fell backward, barely able to brace
my fall, she dug her elbow into my shoulder and grinned down at me.
"You stupid bitch. Why won't you just die? When I had Reeser shoot
you, I thought that would be it. I thought for sure you were going to die. But
oh no, because you have the luck of the Irish themselves, you didn't die.
And there was Atticus, proclaiming his love for you all over the place. I saw
him on the news. He was worried. He used to love me like that, you know?"
I could barely breathe, only getting a little of my air back. And this time,
she levered herself up and then bounced on my sternum, sending out
whatever air I’d managed to take in. But still, I croaked out, "He never
loved you."
I groaned and tried to dislodge her again. But her delicate hands were
on my throat as she attempted to squeeze the life out of me. "Lying cunt. He
did love me. You just got in the way and distracted him. I've been told about
girls like you my whole life. The ones that the boys shouldn't want but can't
help themselves. You are nothing but a whore. I thought he would get over
it like they're supposed to. I am the proper wife. Me. Not someone like
you."
She pulled me up and then smashed my head back into the tile floor. My
mind went fuzzy for a moment. Then I tried to raise my arms up over my
head like Sven had taught me to draw in a longer breath. I made C-shapes
with my hands and brought them down right at her thumb, and dragged in a
breath. With that, I raised my hips and rolled her over. Finally, I was back
on top, and I delivered an elbow to her face. She screeched. "Fuck you."
 I shouted again, "Avalon." And I kept shouting the code word as I
delivered blows to her face then began choking her.
But she had some skill, and she was able to dislodge me, kicking me
against the wall, making me bang my head again. And then she scrambled
for the knife. I only had seconds before she reached it. Staggering, I ran
toward her and shoved her down.
"Avalon!"
I grabbed the back of her hair, hard, and then smashed her head down
into the tile floor. "Avalon!"
No one was coming. I was on my own. I was going to have to
incapacitate her if I wanted to make it to the panic room.
Suddenly, Lucy was tugging for something inside her belt at the small
of her back.
"You stupid bitch. You are going to die today. I wanted to carve off your
pretty face first, but I'm happy to shoot you just the same."
When I realized she had a gun in her hand, I fought for it.
One shot rang clearly in the penthouse, and my breath caught.
I am not going to die today. I am not going to die today. I am not going
to die today.
At that point, I was able to bang the gun against the floor and kick it
away.
She scrambled for it, and I ran after her.
Then suddenly, Atticus was there. He was coming through the door in
the kitchen. The one that connected the two penthouses.
And as Lucy raised her gun, he ran in front of me. "That's enough,
Lucy."
"No, that isn’t enough."
Behind him, I sagged, but I wasn't going to let him take a bullet for me.
Instead, I stepped to the side.
"I said, that's enough,” he repeated.
 "You should have chosen me, Atticus. We were perfect together, but
instead, you threw me away."
Atticus raised an insolent brow. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you
fuck Jefferson behind my back?"
Her eyes went wide and her mouth hung open. "No. When I was with
you, I was with you.”
“That's why I broke up with you. If you want to fuck some McKinsey
reject, fine, I don't care. But I'm not going to be with someone who likes to
fuck other people. It was that simple."
Lucy’s eyes narrowed to slits. "You married a slut."
Atticus’s voice was sharp when he spoke again. "You will not talk about
my wife like that."
"You should have fallen for me, but I'm going to make the choice for
you. When she's gone, you'll learn to love me again like you did before. You
and me, we're supposed to be together. You know how good we look. You
look wrong with her. With her skin and her hair, she doesn't fit, Atticus."
"I said that’s fucking enough, Lucy!"
He shifted his weight so that he was in front of me again.
Lucy just droned on and on. "Everything was perfect before her. You
would have come back. How can you choose someone like her instead of
me? I’m the damn prize, not someone like her, Atticus. You’re just
confused. I know what you’ve heard about women like her. And I get it. It’s
exciting. But you’ve slummed it long enough. Come back to me now."
Slummed it? I’d heard quite enough at that point. “What the hell? Just
who do you think⁠—”
Atticus would not let me step out from behind him to bitch slap her.
"Like I said, you will not disrespect my wife. You're done here, Lucy."
Suddenly, the others were running through the door. Pierce, Micah,
Gavin, Rowan. And all of them except Micah had guns pointed at Lucy.
 She swung her gun around. "I swear to God, I might die, but I will kill
every single one of you. I don't care as long as I kill her."
Atticus shook his head, taking yet another step in front of me. This time,
walking toward her. "You're not going to kill Gwen. You're going to put the
gun down. You've had enough. You made your bed when you hired an
assassin to kill my wife."
Micah's voice was a warning. "Atticus, no."
But he kept walking toward her. "You tried to kill her, and then hired
someone else when you couldn’t get the job done."
"He kept missing. She was with you all the time. Can’t you see she's
useless?"
"You tried to take the only person who has ever understood me. You
tried to take that from me,” Atticus said with gravel in his voice. “You think
I could be with anyone who was like that?"
"I understand you. I do. You just never gave me a chance."
He took another step toward her. "Oh, I gave you a chance. I gave you a
million chances. Even if Gwen wasn't here, I would never ever be with you
in a million years. Not to mention, I would hate you for takin her from me."
Her brows furrowed. "But you love me, Atticus."
"Even when I was with you, I never loved you. Gwen's the only woman
I've ever loved. Get that through your thick skull, Lucy."
He was right in front of her.
Micah shifted next to me, placing his body slightly in front of mine now
that Atticus was no longer shielding me. And then so quickly that I couldn't
even see it, Atticus whipped his hand out, grabbed her wrist, bent it back
and then forward, releasing the gun from her hand.
Then his hands went to her throat.
"Atticus, no,” I screamed. “No! Not for me. I know who you are. This
isn't you."
"She was going to kill you, Gwen."
 "I know. But you saved me. It's over."
Sidestepping Micah, I walked up to him. I kicked the gun even further
out of the way. Gavin went around and grabbed it off the floor and tucked it
at the back of his trousers. Then I put my hand on Atticus’s back, rubbing
gently. "I'm okay. We have to go and check on Magda."
Sven's voice was low as he spoke from behind me. "Fuck, I'll check on
Magda."
I kept my gaze on Atticus and the way he was squeezing her neck.
"Look at me. Atticus, look at me, here."
His gaze flickered to mine briefly before landing back on Lucy.
"Atticus Price, you look at me right now."
His gaze slid back to me, and I gave him a soft smile. "I thought I was
the only one you choked."
And just like that, the spell was broken, and he was no longer that
version of himself I didn't know.
He released her quickly, and a laugh tore out of his chest on a choked
sound. The moment he released her, Pierce and Rowan came forward,
grabbing her.
She tried to claw at them as she reached for Atticus. "No, let him do it.
Let him kill me. If he kills me, he goes to jail. And then he can't have her
anyway, which is perfect."
But they were already taking her away.
I grinned at her. "Sweetheart, the whole penthouse is wired with
cameras. Do you really think he would go to jail after what you tried here?
Never."
She continued to claw at Pierce and Rowan as they dragged her through
the vestibule. Rowan was securing zip ties around her wrists as she bucked
in his arms.
"Hold up," I shouted. The men stopped, and Atticus tried to pull me
back, but I wiggled out of his grasp. They turned Lucy toward me, and I
looked her up and down. "You are despicable."
When she spat in my face, I laughed. "Okay, you're going to enjoy jail."
I turned slightly and rotated my hips just like Sven had taught me before I
released a punch straight to her nose.
This time, Atticus reached for me. "Gwen…"
"That’s for using my sister, you bitch."
Atticus tucked me to his chest. "Oh my God, I fucking love you, but
you're also insane."
"I know." I winced as I tried to curl my hand into a fist. "I hope that
hurt."
The guys finally got her in the elevator, taking her down, presumably to
the police, or to kill her and bury her body. I didn't really care which.
Atticus eased me away from them. "Are you okay?"
"I have a hell of a headache."
"I'm so sorry. I got here as fast as I could. I'm so sorry."
"I thought you were in the office today."
He winced. "Well, I didn't want to be that far away from you, so I rented
one of the offices on the fourth floor too."
"You—" I shook my head. "Of course you did."
"Sorry, but there was no way I’d go all the way to the office and just
leave you here."
"You know what? Today, I'm glad for your clingy ways."
"Good. I should have been here sooner. Pierce ran in, having identified
who the assassin had been in contact with. But we had to take the stairs. She
used an electronic device to disable the elevator."
I held him tightly to me and buried my face in his chest, knowing I was
getting him bloody but not caring. "It's over. It's finally over."
"Yeah, it is. The authorities have already picked up Peter Reeser. You're
safe. Nothing is ever going to hurt you again."
OceanofPDF.com
 34
GWEN

"L ook at us ,” Morgan giggled. “Sitting outside and everything."

I nodded at my sister. "Yes, and not a single hulking bodyguard to be
found."
Atticus frowned. "Don't worry, Sven is still here somewhere."
As we sat on the balcony of La Table Ronde, I felt relaxed for the first
time in months.
Reeser had, in fact, been arrested. Lucy had been too, and they were
doing a psychological evaluation on her. My cuts and bruises on my
shoulder were healing, but my physical therapist was pissed.
Everything worked out exactly like it was supposed to.
Lance was looking antsy, rubbing his hands on his thighs and checking
the door. Morgan narrowed her eyes at him, but that was normal. Ever since
that night on the balcony, the two of them had been even weirder than
usual. It was odd, though. They fought a lot less, but now it felt like two
people who really hated each other. Which made me sad. Maybe it was my
fault for suggesting that there was something there.
 Atticus sat forward, his smile bright. He smiled a lot easier now. What a
difference a few months made. That was my smile. The one he usually
reserved for me, but he was using it on my sister now. "So, Morgan, what
are we doing for your birthday?"
Micah piped up then. "Ooh, yes, there's a book signing. That author you
like who writes about the dragon shifters, she's going to be there. We can
get tickets if you want to go."
She wrinkled her nose. "But isn't it in Dallas? I don't want to go to
Texas on my birthday."
"Fair,” Atticus said, giving Micah a withering look. “Where do you
want to go?"
"Somewhere with really big fucking roller coasters."
Lance's gaze turned to her. "Roller coasters? Really, Morgan?"
Morgan grinned at him. "Yes, roller coasters. I figured it is my last year
as essentially a kid. One more year, and I’ll be in my twenties, a proper
adult. This birthday might be the last time I get to do a kid thing."
I shook my head. "You can do kid things for as long as you want. Did
you not see Atticus last night, losing his shit over getting crushed at
Monopoly?"
Atticus sat back and glowered at me, and I knew that remark would earn
me a spanking later. "That's because you were cheating."
I stuck my tongue out at him. "Prove it."
"I have something for you to do with that tongue."
Immediately, Gavin, Rowan, Micah… Well, basically everyone at the
table made gagging noises.
"Oh, I bet you do.” I grinned. “But not until you apologize for the shitty
response to losing."
"I didn't lose," he grumbled
God, I loved antagonizing him. It was so much fun.
 He made to push his chair back. "If you’ll all excuse me, I think I need
to have a quiet conversation with my wife."
"And by conversation, you mean a shag in the bathroom?” Morgan
asked. “Because ewww…"
I couldn't help but laugh. This was what it felt like to be relaxed, have a
family, and enjoy ourselves.
I glanced around, reveling in it.
Atticus turned his attention back to my little sister. "Let's have it, little
sis. What do you really want to do?"
"I think I really do want to do roller coasters. And I want everyone
there. Bring your partners, bring your kids. Gavin, I can't wait to meet your
daughter."
He grinned. "You will be her favorite person for suggesting an
amusement park."
Pierce was the only one frowning. "I don't know if I like the security
logistics for that."
Atticus just laughed. "Oh, Jesus. Look, I'll buy out the place for a day or
two. Morgan, which one do you want?"
My sister laughed nervously. "What?"
"Which amusement park do you want? Do you want like a Universal? A
Disney property is going to be a bit pricey, but we can do it. Or do you want
like a Six Flags? You really need to be certain about the kinds of roller
coasters you want to ride."
My sister's gaze nervously skittered between me and Atticus, and even
at Lance a time or two for some help. "What do you mean by pricey?"
My husband just shrugged. "I mean, it's your birthday, so we'll just buy
it out. You can ride anything you want as often as you want. And you can
even make Lance your ride partner."
Lance definitely looked gray at that. "I will not be her ride partner."
 Morgan just laughed evilly. "Oh yes, you will. It's my birthday. I get to
have whatever I want."
He just shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Lance had always hated roller
coasters. He couldn't even do fair rides. The Ferris Wheel made him very
nervous. And he could just tell her that, but he wouldn't. Because whatever
weirdness was going on with them now, he would never admit defeat to
Morgan. "Fine, pick your poison. I bet you give up long before I do."
Atticus gave me that soft, elusive, corner-of-his-lip smile, which told
me he was getting exactly what he wanted. "Fantastic. You just have to pick
the best location. How about Universal in Los Angeles?"
I grinned at that. "Yeah. That way we'll get great dinner options, get to
do some shopping on Rodeo Drive, and do touristy shit like visit studios."
Morgan clapped her hands together. "I love it. But you don't have to
shut down Universal Studios for me."
Atticus shrugged. "I'm doing it for Micah. With his delicate sensibilities,
he couldn't possibly wait in line."
I tossed a bottle of sunscreen at my husband, who, shockingly, caught it
adeptly. "I'm pretty sure it's Atticus who won't wait in line. He is never very
patient."
As everyone chatted, my sister leaned over to me. "He's not really going
to rent out Universal Studios, is he?"
"Oh, he most definitely is. You've met him, right?"
"I don't want all that. Especially since all of this was my fault.” She
dropped her gaze as if ashamed. “I feel terrible about bringing Lucy into the
apartment."
I took my sister's hand and squeezed it. "That was not your fault.
Remember, we lay blame at the feet of those who perpetrated injustice, not
anywhere else."
"I know, but I don't want to be rewarded for being a dumbass."
 "You're being rewarded because it's your birthday, and you deserve to
celebrate. Enjoy it. Besides, you know full well you can't tell Atticus
anything. He does as he pleases."
"Or rather, he does as you please."
The hem of my skirt shifted under the table. My gaze flickered to my
husband, who grinned at me and winked.
I just ignored him. We'd already been late coming to brunch because of
him. He'd taken one look at my sundress, and before I could protest, he had
me bent over the couch and moaning.
When his fingers teased higher up my thigh, I grabbed his hand and
shook my head, which only made him pout.
At the end of the table, I saw Lance spring up and walk back into the
restaurant. When he rejoined us, he gave me a big smile. “What did I
miss?”
Atticus took my hand. “You’re just in time for me to ask Gwen to marry
me again.”
OceanofPDF.com
 35
ATTICUS

I had planned the day down to the last detail. Cake tasting—because of
course Gwen's stepmother insisted on handling every aspect of our second
wedding, which meant that we had to endure the mind-numbing rituals of
planning it. But I didn't mind so much. At least it was something we could
do together, something that didn't involve security protocols or me watching
her every move like a hawk.
But Gwen was acting off. As I watched her pick at her breakfast, her
brow furrowed in concentration, I could tell something was wrong. She was
normally excited about anything involving food, especially cake. Yet here
she was, pushing a piece of toast around her plate as if it might bite her.
"Not hungry?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
She shook her head, frowning at the toast like it had offended her. "I
don't know. Everything just smells weird."
"Weird how?" I set my coffee down and studied her. She looked pale,
and there was a slight crease between her brows, a sign that she was in
discomfort.
 "Like… fish. I swear everything smells like fish." She wrinkled her
nose in disgust and pushed her plate away. "And why does your cologne
smell so strong today? Did you put on extra?"
I blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. "It's the same as always, Gwen."
She sighed and rubbed her temples. "Maybe it's just me. I don't know
what's going on. The whole penthouse smells off too. And this décor, what
was I thinking? It’s all wrong. I can’t stand looking at it."
I frowned. Gwen had meticulously chosen every single item in this
penthouse, down to the last throw pillow. She’d been proud of her choices,
confident in her style. To hear her suddenly despise it was… unusual. More
than that, it was alarming.
"Maybe you're coming down with something," I suggested, keeping my
tone neutral even as a spike of worry shot through me. I didn't like seeing
her like this—confused, upset, and uncomfortable. "We can skip the cake
tasting. You should stay home and rest."
"No," she said, her voice firm despite the unease in her eyes. "I’m not
missing this. Clarissa and Morgan would never let me hear the end of it if I
did. Besides, I’ll be fine."
But she didn’t look fine. She looked pale and a little… off. And when
her eyes suddenly filled with tears, my heart nearly stopped.
Gwen never cried. Not over something like this. Something was
seriously wrong.
I reached out, my hand hovering uncertainly over hers before I finally
set it down gently. "Gwen, talk to me. What’s really going on?"
She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and for
the first time in a long time, I felt completely helpless. "I don't know," she
whispered. "I just feel… off. Everything feels wrong, and I can’t explain it."
Seeing her like this was like a punch to the gut. Gwen was always so
strong, so put together. And here she was, unraveling right in front of me,
and I had no idea how to fix it.
 "I’ll be right back," I said abruptly, my mind racing as I stood up.
Something was gnawing at the back of my brain, a thought that I hadn’t
dared to entertain until now. I had to know for sure.
She blinked up at me, confused. "Where are you going?"
"I just need to check something. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Stay
here, okay?"
Before she could protest, I was out the door, panic clawing at my
insides. As soon as I was in the elevator, I pulled out my phone and dialed
Micah.
He answered on the second ring. "What’s up, brother?"
"I need a favor," I said, my voice tight. "I need you to meet me
downstairs. Now."
Micah didn’t ask questions. He knew me well enough to understand
when I was serious. "On my way."
I was pacing the lobby when he arrived, his brow furrowed in concern.
"What’s going on?"
I didn’t have time for explanations. "I need you to go to the pharmacy
and buy as many pregnancy tests as you can get your hands on. All different
brands. Whatever they have."
His eyes widened in surprise, but to his credit, he didn’t question me.
"Got it. I’ll be back in ten."
Those ten minutes felt like an eternity. I kept replaying everything in my
head—Gwen’s sudden aversion to smells, her nausea, the way she was
reacting to the décor she had once loved. Could it be…?
Micah returned with a bag full of boxes and handed it to me. "You’re
sure about this?"
"No," I admitted, taking the bag from him. "But I need to know."
He gave me a long, considering look before nodding. "Good luck."
When I returned to the penthouse, Gwen was curled up on the couch,
fast asleep. She looked so peaceful, and for a moment, I hesitated. But I
needed to know. I needed to be sure.
I set the bag down gently on the couch beside her and knelt down,
brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Gwen, wake up."
She stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Atticus? What’s going on?"
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. "I need you to pee on
all of these."
Her eyes widened in confusion as she sat up, looking at the bag. "What?
Why?"
"Just… humor me, okay?"
She stared at me for a long moment, clearly trying to make sense of
what I was asking. Then, slowly, realization dawned. "Atticus, are you
serious?"
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
She looked at the bag again, her expression somewhere between shock
and amusement. "There’s not enough pee in the world for that."
"Try," I said, my voice almost pleading. I needed to know. I needed her
to tell me that what I was thinking wasn’t just a wild fantasy.
Gwen’s lips quirked into a small smile, and for the first time all
morning, I saw a glimpse of the woman I knew. "You really think…?"
"I don’t know," I admitted, running a hand through my hair. "But if you
are, I need to know. Please, Gwen."
She stared at me for a long moment, and then she nodded, her smile
widening just a fraction. "Okay. Let’s do this."
As she took the bag from me and headed toward the bathroom, I stood
there, my heart in my throat, my mind racing with possibilities. And for the
first time in weeks, I felt something other than fear or guilt.
Hope.
It was a fragile, tentative hope, but it was there, and I clung to it with
everything I had.
 Whatever happened next, we would face it together. And that thought,
more than anything, gave me the strength to breathe again.
OceanofPDF.com
 EPILOGUE
MORGAN

T he reception was in full swing, fairy lights twinkling above us like stars.
The New York Public Library had been transformed into a wedding
wonderland, every inch of it dripping with opulence.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm, golden
glow over the room. Marble columns were wrapped in lush garlands of
white roses and ivy, and elegant tables were adorned with towering
centerpieces of orchids and lilies. It must have cost at least two million
dollars, and every penny was visible in the grandeur of the venue.
The opulence didn't stop at the chandeliers and floral arrangements or
the hand selected food and drinks. He’d even had some vineyard in France
make a special brand of nonalcoholic champagne so the underaged guests
could toast with everyone else. Which was honestly wild. Everywhere I
looked, there were signs of the extravagance that only Atticus could pull
off.
Ice sculptures of mythical creatures, a live string quartet playing softly
in one corner, and waiters circulating with trays of the finest hors d'oeuvres
and champagne. The air was filled with the scent of the most expensive
perfumes mingling together, and laughter echoed off the marble walls.
 But even in the midst of all this splendor, I couldn't shake the feeling of
longing that had settled deep in my chest. Seeing Gwen so deliriously
happy with Atticus made me acutely aware of the emptiness I felt.
I tried to keep my smile bright, to join in the celebrations, but my eyes
betrayed me, constantly seeking out Lance in the crowd.
He was always surrounded by people, his easy charm drawing them in.
But every now and then, I caught him glancing my way, his expression
thoughtful, almost worried. Did he see through my facade? Did he know
how much I was struggling?
Gwen and Atticus were in the center of the dance floor, spinning around
in their own little world. She looked radiant, and he couldn’t take his eyes
off her. Their happiness was infectious, spreading smiles all around.
I stood off to the side, nursing a glass of champagne, trying not to let
my eyes follow Lance as he moved through the crowd. He looked dashing
in his suit, laughing with Micah and some of the other guys. Every time I
caught a glimpse of him, my heart did a little flip. But I couldn’t let anyone
see that. Not tonight.
"Hey, Morgan," Rowan said, appearing beside me with a friendly smile.
"Care to dance?"
I hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Lance again before turning
back to Rowan. "Sure, why not?"
Rowan led me to the dance floor, and we started to sway to the music.
He was a good dancer, confident and smooth. "You look beautiful tonight,"
he said, his tone casual but sincere.
"Thanks, Rowan. You clean up pretty well yourself." And he did. He
was handsome with a genuine sweet smile you couldn’t help but respond to.
Not to mention he was on the team of badasses my newly minted brother-
in-law-again employed.
And he was closer to my age I thought. I’d heard Pierce call him the
baby once.
 So why didn’t I feel anything but lukewarm affection when I looked at
him.
Because my pussy was an asshole.
Pussy: No, that’s the other guy.
I had to bite back my laugh as ee danced for a minute, lest he think I
was insane. Just as I was starting to relax and enjoy myself when Lance
stepped up, his expression unreadable, tapping Rowan on the shoulder.
"Mind if I cut in?"
Rowan shrugged with a grin. "Not at all." He stepped back, and Lance
took his place, his hand settling on my waist.
"Hi," he said, his voice low and familiar.
"Jackass," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “I was enjoying
myself.”
“Oh c’mon, we both know Rowan is a snooze fest. You’d much rather
fight with me.”
I immediately tried to twist out of his arms. Not because he was wrong,
but because he was right. Just being in his vicinity, made my pulse race and
my breathing shallow. “Can’t you just go annoy someone else? My cousin
Tara is right there. She looks bored and she needs a rebound, so bother her.”
He pressed his lips firmly together, then surprised me and said, “How
about, just for tonight, we call a truce.”
I tried to let the tension roll off my shoulders. This was Gwen’s second
wedding. The least the two of us could do was try to get along for a dance.
We danced in silence for a moment before Lance spoke again. I tried to let
the tension roll off my shoulders. We danced in silence for a moment before
Lance spoke again. "You okay? You look a bit... off."
I forced a smile. "I'm fine. It's just... watching Gwen and Atticus, they're
so happy. I love seeing her like this."
Lance nodded, his eyes searching mine. "But?"
 "But…" I sighed. "it's been just the two of us for so long. Now it's
officially not just the two of us. It's a little sad."
His expression softened. "Hey, it's okay to feel like that. It's a big
change."
I nodded, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to fall. "I know.
And I'm really happy for her, I am. It's just... different." I blinked rapidly to
stop the impending waterworks. What was wrong with me? I was so damn
happy for Gwen. And I loved Atticus for her.
The man was unhinged, but completely in love with my sister.
Lance released me and took my hand. "Come with me."
“Where are we going?” I asked as I followed him out onto the hidden
balcony, the cool night air a welcome change from the warmth inside. The
city lights stretched out before us, twinkling like the stars above. The
skyline was breathtaking, a perfect backdrop for such a glamorous night.
“I figured you could use a moment.”
Damn it. I hated it when he was sweet. It was harder to pretend when he
was sweet. So much easier when he was his usual Lance self.
I placed my hands on the balcony stone railing and let the cool night air
clear my head as I tipped my face up to the stars. Change was good. I just
had to get over the loneliness.
When Lance spoke, his voices all gravel. “So are we never going to talk
about it?”
I turned to meet his gaze. “Talk about what, Lance?”
He stood slo close but didn’t touch me. The three inches between us
suddenly the size of the Grand Canyon.
“This. The thing between us.”
The bottom fell out of my stomach.
No. He was not doing this now. There was a delicate balance between
us. Mostly because, we never, ever, upon penalty of death spoke about that
night. He was not bringing this shit up now.
 When in doubt, deny, deny, deny. “I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”
I had to get out of here. When I turned to leave, he caught my wrist. His
thumb stroked over the inside of my wrist. And I’m not going to lie, I
almost folded. But I held my ground and lifted my chin defiantly.
That was until he leaned forward, and whispered, “You’re a liar. Want
me to prove it?”

Thank you so much for reading MERGER! Wow, what a ride! Gwen and
Atticus finally got their HEA. But I know you’re thinking — BUT WHAT
ABOUT MORGAN AND LANCE??? Find out what happens with our
favorite enemies to lovers couple——> READ DEEP POCKETS NOW!
Want to know if Morgan is lying? Read the Bonus Epilogue here !
I’ve taken a bite of the forbidden fruit, and there’s no going back.
When I slept with my best friend’s little sister, it was a moment of
weakness. A slip of my control. One moment where I didn’t think about the
repercussions.
Imagine my surprise when I find out she’s my new employee…
READ DEEP POCKETS!

WHILE YOU WAIT, dive in to Liv and Ben’s story with Big Ben:

It began with a stolen almost-kiss.

And ended in revenge.
When Ben meets Olivia, sparks fly and danger follows. In a world where
secrets reign, their forbidden attraction could be the key to survival or a
path to destruction.

➜ Yes, you can pick up Big Ben now!

Can’t get enough ? Meet a cocky, billionaire prince that goes undercover in
Cheeky Royal!

He’s a prince with a secret to protect. The last distraction he can afford is
his gorgeous as sin new neighbor.

Turn the page for an excerpt from Cheeky Royal…

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 ALSO FROM NANA MALONE
CHEEKY ROYAL

“You make a really good model. I’m sure dozens of artists have volunteered
to paint you before.”
He shook his head. “Not that I can recall. Why? Are you offering?”

I grinned. “I usually do nudes.” Why did I say that? It wasn’t true. Because
you’re hoping he’ll volunteer as tribute.

He shrugged then reached behind his back and pulled his shirt up, tugged it
free, and tossed it aside. “How is this for nude?”

Fuck. Me. I stared for a moment, mouth open and looking like an idiot.
Then, well, I snapped a picture. Okay fine, I snapped several. “Uh, that’s a
start.”

He ran a hand through his hair and tussled it, so I snapped several of that.
These were romance-cover gold. Getting into it, he started posing for me,
making silly faces. I got closer to him, snapping more close-ups of his face.
That incredible face.
Then suddenly he went deadly serious again, the intensity in his eyes going
harder somehow, sharper. Like a razor. “You look nervous. I thought you
said you were used to nudes.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Yeah, at school whenever we

had a model, they were always nude. I got used to it.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Are you sure about that?”

Shit. He could tell. “Yeah, I am. It’s just a human form. Male. Female. No
big deal.”

His lopsided grin flashed, and my stomach flipped. Stupid traitorous body…
and damn him for being so damn good looking. I tried to keep the lens
centered on his face, but I had to get several of his abs, for you know…
research.
But when his hand rubbed over his stomach and then slid to the button on
his jeans, I gasped, “What are you doing?”
“Well, you said you were used doing nudes. Will that make you more
comfortable as a photographer?”

I swallowed again, unable to answer, wanting to know what he was doing,

how far he would go. And how far would I go?

The button popped, and I swallowed the sawdust in my mouth. I snapped a

picture of his hands.

Well yeah, and his abs. So sue me. He popped another button, giving me a
hint of the forbidden thing I couldn’t have. I kept snapping away. We were
locked in this odd, intimate game of chicken. I swung the lens up to capture
his face. His gaze was slightly hooded. His lips parted…turned on. I
stepped back a step to capture all of him. His jeans loose, his feet bare.
Sitting on the stool, leaning back slightly and giving me the sex face,
because that’s what it was—God’s honest truth—the sex face. And I was a
total goner.

“You’re not taking pictures, Len.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Oh, sorry.” I snapped several in succession. Full body shots, face shots,
torso shots. There were several torso shots. I wanted to fully capture what
was happening.
He unbuttoned another button, taunting me, tantalizing me. Then he
reached into his jeans, and my gaze snapped to meet his. I wanted to say
something. Intervene in some way…help maybe…ask him what he was
doing. But I couldn’t. We were locked in a game that I couldn’t break free
from. Now I wanted more. I wanted to know just how far he would go.

Would he go nude? Or would he stay in this half-undressed state, teasing

me, tempting me to do the thing that I shouldn’t do?

I snapped more photos, but this time I was close. I was looking down on
him with the camera, angling so I could see his perfectly sculpted abs as
they flexed. His hand was inside his jeans. From the bulge, I knew he was
touching himself. And then I snapped my gaze up to his face.
Sebastian licked his lip, and I captured the moment that tongue met flesh.

Heat flooded my body, and I pressed my thighs together to abate the ache.
At that point, I was just snapping photos, completely in the zone, wanting to
see what he might do next.

“Len…”
“Sebastian.” My voice was so breathy I could barely get it past my lips.
“Do you want to come closer?”
“I--I think maybe I’m close enough?”
His teeth grazed his bottom lip. “Are you sure about that? I have another
question for you.”

I snapped several more images, ranging from face shots to shoulders, to

torso. Yeah, I also went back to the hand-around-his-dick thing because…
wow. “Yeah? Go ahead.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your boyfriend ‘til now?”
Oh shit. “I—I’m not sure. I didn’t think it mattered. It sort of feels like we’re
supposed to be friends.” Lies all lies.
He stood, his big body crowding me. “Yeah, friends…”
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t bloody think with him so close. His scent
assaulted me, sandalwood and something that was pure Sebastian wrapped
around me, making me weak. Making me tingle as I inhaled his scent. Heat
throbbed between my thighs, even as my knees went weak. “Sebastian, wh—
what are you doing?”
“
Proving to you that we’re not friends. Will you let me?”
He was asking my permission. I knew what I wanted to say. I understood
what was at stake. But then he raised his hand and traced his knuckles over
my cheek, and a whimper escaped.

His voice went softer, so low when he spoke, his words were more like a
rumble than anything intelligible. “Is that you telling me to stop?”

Seriously, there were supposed to be words. There were. But somehow I

couldn’t manage them, so like an idiot I shook my head.
His hand slid into my curls as he gently angled my head. When he leaned
down, his lips a whisper from mine, he whispered, “This is all I’ve been
thinking about.”
Read Cheeky Royal now!
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 NANA MALONE READING LIST

Looking for a few Good Books? Look no Further

FREE

Cheeky Royal
The Heir
Bridge of Love

Mistletoe Series
Mistletoe Kisses
Mistletoe Hearts

Gentlemen Rogues
The Heir
The King
The Saint
The Rook
The Spy
The Villain
 Royals
Royals Undercover

Cheeky Royal
Cheeky King

Royals Undone
Royal Bastard
Bastard Prince

Royals United
Royal Tease
Teasing the Princess

Royal Elite

The Heiress Duet

Protecting the Heiress

Tempting the Heiress

The Prince Duet

Return of the Prince
To Love a Prince

The Bodyguard Duet

Bodyguard to the Billionaire
The Billionaire’s Secret

London Royals
 London Royal Duet
London Royal
London Soul

Playboy Royal Duet

Royal Playboy
Playboy’s Heart

London Lords
See No Evil
Big Ben
The Benefactor
For Her Benefit

Hear No Evil
East End
East Bound
Fall of East

To Catch a Thief

Speak No Evil
Bridge of Love
London Bridge
Bridge of Lies
Broken Bridge

The Donovans Series

Come Home Again (Nate & Delilah)
Love Reality (Ryan & Mia)
 Race For Love (Derek & Kisima)
Love in Plain Sight (Dylan and Serafina)
Eye of the Beholder – (Logan & Jezzie)
Love Struck (Zephyr & Malia)

London Billionaires Standalones

Mr. Trouble (Jarred & Kinsley)
Mr. Big (Zach & Emma)
Mr. Dirty(Nathan & Sophie)

The Player
Bryce
Dax
Echo
Fox
Ransom
Gage

The In Stilettos Series

Sexy in Stilettos (Alec & Jaya)
Sultry in Stilettos (Beckett & Ricca)
Sassy in Stilettos (Caleb & Micha)
Strollers & Stilettos (Alec & Jaya & Alexa)
Seductive in Stilettos (Shane & Tristia)
Stunning in Stilettos (Bryan & Kyra)
Tempting in Stilettos (Serena & Tyson)
Teasing in Stilettos (Cara & Tate)
Tantalizing in Stilettos (Jaggar & Griffin)

Love Match Series

 *Game Set Match (Jason & Izzy)
Mismatch (Eli & Jessica)

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 COPYRIGHT

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Merger, Book 3 in the Kings of the Boardroom Series

COPYRIGHT © 2024 by Nana Malone

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever
without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
articles or reviews.

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