Page 9 of Axel (Belles & Bratva Beasts #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

AXEL

Five blocks up Queen Street and right on King Street—that’s the route Ruby always takes.

So, what the fuck is she doing this morning?

I chase her until she darts right, disappearing into a parking garage, but I’m not dumb enough to follow. What if she busts me? So I run past, without stopping, as rage starts pumping through my veins.

I already felt off this morning because something was off last night.

I’d bet all my money that the blonde cowgirl talking to my mom at the club was Ruby.

The cowgirl stood out. The other women looked like plastic dolls and spoke like it, too. But for my mom’s business, I’m polite to them. Sure, I appreciate the finer things, but I’m drawn to real women. Real strength.

Like those sexy, frayed jean shorts. Those red cowgirl boots. The faded T-shirt that read, “To Hell I Won’t.” Who could miss a real beauty like that?

But the club was darker than usual, and the cowgirl looked like she was crying. She seemed vulnerable, almost traumatized; I know that’s why my mom spoke to her. She spotted a woman in trouble and tried to help her, but the cowgirl ran away.

When I asked my mom who she was, she had no idea. When I asked if the blonde hair was a wig, she quipped, “Son, it’s a woman’s prerogative to change her hair with her mood, and you’d be wise to say they’re all beautiful.”

As much as it felt like Ruby, it couldn’t have been her.

Ruby doesn’t cry. She doesn’t cower or cringe … but she does run.

At home, after my run and shower, I sit on my bed, yanking on my socks, and fuming to Sparky, “How fucking dare she run from me?”

Sparky nudges my elbow.

“And you…” I order, scratching her ear. “You’re going to the vet tomorrow and won’t scratch anyone. You understand? I need at least one pussy to obey me, and that’s you. And the other one?” I grin. “Let’s make her pay.”

In my office, an hour later, I hear Helen arrive at her desk. I’m aware it’s Sunday. I know my staff is working hard.

“Hey, Helen.” I step out to greet her. “And you, too, Samuel.” He looks up from his desktop. “Thanks for working this weekend. After these hearings tomorrow, take Tuesday and Wednesday off. Okay?”

They nod, smiling, as Helen asks, “What about Ruby? She’s been working the hardest. Should I tell her too?”

I check my phone. “No, she’s twenty minutes late. If she breaks the rules, she pays.”

“But, she’s…” Helen’s about to defend Ruby when the elevator dings.

I glance up as the doors slide open and…

Holy.

Fuck.

No way that crying cowgirl last night was Ruby because this woman, with her chin lifted, confidently stalks my way in nude heels, and a very fitting navy sweater dress with her hair in a polished auburn ponytail. Her sapphire eyes glare, brimming with power and…

Hell, yes, that’s my future queen . My cock firms for her. But my heart warns, She’s not ready.

“Good morning, Mr. Cummings.” She arches a brow at me, looming by her desk. “Is there something you need?”

To fuck you six ways from this Sunday, then three times, daily, for the rest of my life.

“You’re late, Ms. Jones.”

“I was meeting with my brother-in-law to see if he knows the Georgia Secretary of State. You know,” she brushes past me, “for the Barinov case.”

Barinov. That’s Nick’s surname. We all have different ones. My mother didn’t want us connected by name. Our blood with our father is already a lethal bond.

And like my father, I can be cruel.

“I’m putting Samuel on the Barinov case while you review my trial binders for tomorrow.” I glare at Ruby. “Every punctuation mark better be correct, or you’ll answer for it.”

Ruby hates desk work. She wants the excitement, the investigations, the courtroom. This is the worst thing I can do to her today, and it feels good. It’s her punishment for running from me, and yes, dammit, I hear the hypocrisy.

With a pivot, I calmly tell Helen, “Watch Ms. Jones please. She can run wild with commas and bullets.”

“You better run from my bullet.”

I smirk, hearing Ruby whisper it behind my back before I close my office door.

But she’s right. And smart. And fuck. I should’ve thought about who I know, so I call a friend in the Georgia State Property Office and get the name of someone he says can be influenced .

Then I call Nick with the update, telling him I’ll reach out to a “Liam Farley” and give him no choice but to tell me the owners of that LLC.

I also remind Nick about Wren’s initiation tonight, though I wish I could cancel it. There’s too much shit going on, but everyone is coming here, and Wren’s too excited. I can’t let our new queen down.

I’m sharing this with Nick when Ruby suddenly swings my door open, sashaying into my office, so I abruptly end our call.

“Care to knock?”

“Nope.” She pops her lips. “You told me to care about commas, so here.” She drops the binder on my desk. “ That’s everything for tomorrow.”

I thumb the pages. “Will I find errors?”

“If you do,” she demands, “fire me, not Helen. Or I swear to God I’ll cut the brake lines on your fancy car.”

Spoken like a true queen.

“Oh.” I fake a bristle. “No need to get hostile. What did a Jaguar ever do to you?”

“Of course, you name-drop your E-type.”

“I’m surprised you know my car.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been murdered in your sleep.” She smiles. “But hey, keep dreaming; that’s what I believe.”

If she only knew murder is what I risk daily.

“Look.” She leans over, grabbing the edge of my desk. “I want to help Nick and Zar. Samuel is great, but he can’t get what I want.”

Ruby’s putting her luscious cleavage on proud display, and she knows it. My thickening cock is well aware, too, drawn to one of the many places on her hot body that I need to fuck.

“And just what do you want, Ms. Jones?”

“Intel. ”

“And how will you get it?” I lean back in my chair, risking exposure.

It creaks, and her eyes widen before they sharpen. “I have skills .”

“And what if your skills aren’t good enough to get what you really want?”

I’m so furious; I’m finally flirting with her, letting my smile escape. I let her see how she thrills me. How she attracts me. How I’m fucking obsessed with her and…

“Oh, I’m not good, Mr. Cummings.” She fearlessly flirts back. “I can be so damn bad, I make men drool to give me what I want.”

Holy fuck, I can see it.

My hard cock aches for it.

I can see myself fucking Ruby so hard that when I come inside her tight, wet pussy, I lose control, even of my mouth.

I’ll have her spreading her cheeks, holding them open for me as I drool over her little pink puckered hole while my cock is buried so deep inside her sweet cunt, because I’ll be fucking her ass next.

Good God, I want her. I’m tired of waiting for her.

Her eyes glisten, reading my filthy mind. She’s a lust bullet shot right through my heart, and … she knows it, smirking. “So, let me call Farley.” She seduces me and?—

Wait.

What name did she just say?

Farley?

I almost ask, but I have too much trial experience. Too much training.

My opponent just breached confidentiality. Her little secret.

“We’ll see.” I lean forward in my chair. “Good job on the binders. Finish the Walton case, and I’ll call Ms. Alonso about hers, and then we’re done for the day. Go home, and thank you for your hard work this weekend. ”

“Uh.” She stands upright. “Okay.”

She didn’t expect that. I rarely praise her because it arouses me too much. All I can hear in my praise is me telling her what a good girl she is while she chokes on my cock. Soon.

“Tell Helen to please get our lunch. It’s my treat today.” I keep my voice calm. “Please have Samuel go with her and help her carry it.”

“Yes, Mr. Cummings.” Ruby looks rattled by my politeness.

But once she closes my door? Fuck, polite. I turn up the speakers on my desktop. Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture blasts as I start searching under my desk.

That fucking Wildfire bugged my office!

How else could she know the name Farley? The one I told Nick? And there it is—a little blue light blinking on a black box smaller than my palm, stuck to the bottom of my desk.

Usually, I’d kill someone for doing this. Slowly. Painfully. Lots of blood and salt is how I like it.

But with Ruby … this is too perfect.

My cock stirs with all the power I have over her now. So, I let her overhear my call to Ms. Alonso as I find out even more damning evidence against Ruby.

My day just went from shit to shining.

“Ms. Jones .” I stalk toward her desk. “I just spoke with Ms. Alonso. She thanked me for the legal advice you gave without my supervision. She said?—”

“Shh, Mr. Cummings.” Ruby flits her hand. “The adults are talking.”

The adults? Talking?

No, she’s not even looking at me. She’s wearing a shit-eating grin and scrolling on her phone. I glance and see hot men on book covers filling her screen. One shirtless fucker after another.

She reads smutty books on her lunch break, making me die to make her fiction fact.

But now she thinks she has the upper hand? That she can spy and get dirt on me?

Damn, I’m even more seduced.

Fuck, she’s such a queen.

“Oh, I’ll get very adult with your next paycheck, Ms. Jones, unless you put your phone away. They’re forbidden in my office.”

Phones are a considerable risk. I don’t want my picture taken. All obey my rules about them except Ruby.

“Yeah, this chat?” She rolls her eyes. “We’re done. I need coffee.”

She shifts in her chair to go to the breakroom, but I lower my glare. “Move an inch, and you’ll need a new job.”

“Look,” she huffs, “Ms. Alonso has a pervert for a landlord, so I just told her to buy a hidden camera to prove it.”

“Uh-huh, and where did you tell her to put the camera?”

“I don’t know where she’ll put it,” she scoffs. “Why? Is she going for a Golden Globe nomination in the ‘Best Performance By A Son-Of-A-Bitch’ category for her landlord? Because don’t worry. You got that one on lock.”

I clench my molars. Fighting my snarl. My smile. My truth.

You know that other saying about Karma being a bitch? She is. She’s my mother, and I’m a proud son-of-a-beautiful-bitch. For my mother, my kind of karma kills, too.

“I advise our clients, Ms. Jones. Do you understand?”

I tent my fingers on her desk, and her gaze drops to the cryptic symbols inked on them. Her plump lips part, fixated, and inwardly, I smirk. My tattoos get her every time.

“When I have to represent Ms. Alonso in court,” I lecture, “she needs legally obtained camera footage.”

Besides, I don’t need cameras recording what I plan to do to Ms. Alonso’s landlord. I know all about him. Any man who preys on single moms will be my slow, murderous entertainment for days.

“Did you consider that, Ms. Jones, when you played lawyer for a day?”

Ruby snaps, “Did you consider the color of the lipstick you can wear when you kiss my ass?”

I arch a brow.

“I mean…” She exhales calmly, setting her phone down. “She’s a young, single mom, and that man is extorting her, and I’m trying to help her.”

Again, spoken like a queen.

“Then help yourself and pick up my dry cleaning.”

“Uh! That’s harassment!” She huffs, “You’re no different than the landlord. Fetching your tiny little suits is not in my job description.”

Tiny? Hardly. I’m six-four and swelling larger around Ruby, loving how much I can test her, loving how much power I have over her now.

“That’s cute.” I wink. “Lecturing me on the law when you’re the paralegal who engaged in the unauthorized practice of the law with my client.

Let’s tell that to the judge, too. Now…” I reach into my jacket and toss the claim ticket on her desk.

“Fetch my suits. I have court first thing in the morning.”

Fuck me, it’s hot how Ruby grinds her teeth. “Mr. Cummings, why don’t you?—”

My smirk slides into a smile, craving our hating game and her next insult, but…

The elevator ding lifts my glare from Ruby to the brass doors sliding open.

Across my office, with its gleaming wooden floors, large arched windows, and stately antique desks I collect stands…

… my goddaughter?

Alena Allen steps out of the elevator, her big brown eyes frantically searching the room until they find mine, and something’s wrong.

I’ve known Alena for too long, from when she was a toddler to a young woman now. Very much a woman , I made sure of it.

“Michael…” Alena marches my way, using my pseudonym. The one that hides my American name—Axel. It’s one of my many lies, hiding the name I was born with—Aleksi Kholodov. “We need to talk, please.”

“Ahem.” I clear the sudden strangle over my throat. Turning to Ruby, I fight like hell to hide this from her. From everyone. “Ms. Jones, clear my afternoon.”

“But,” Ruby debates, “Helen’s getting lunch. She knows your schedule, not me.”

I grab a pen from Ruby’s desk, quickly scrawling the password to my schedule kept on Helen’s computer while the dangerously familiar aroma of Alena’s perfume nears. It’s powdery and innocent.

Just as she was … before me.

“Do it,” I order Ruby. “Ms. Allen is family, and I need to meet with her.” My pulse triples. “ Please .”

Ruby arches a brow at my pleasantry. At my plea. This time, it’s real.

Politely, I hold my office door open for Alena. She brushes past me, fully trusting, and it’s instinct—I barely touch Alena’s back, always protecting her, before I glance over my shoulder and catch the look in Ruby’s eyes.

They’re searching.

They’re suspicious.

They’re … oh, fuck … jealous?