Page 51

You know the saying, "The Devil takes care of his own."

Oh, I care for her.

I own her.

I stalk her.

Hell, Ruby Jones works for me and has no idea who I really am. She just hates me with a white-hot intensity. I make sure of it.

“Ms. Jones ,” I seethe, stalking toward her desk. She sits right outside my office so I can watch her. So I can torture her hourly. Okay, every minute if I please. “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.

Ruby lives to torture me, too.

I lick my bottom lip. “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.

Yes, I trust her. Yes, she knows it. And yes, she does every little thing she can to tap dance on my last fucking nerve.

“Yeah, this chat?” She rolls her sapphire eyes, aiming them at me. “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.”

I tower over Ruby, locking my glare on her stupefying eyes, not her mesmerizing auburn hair or her mouth-watering cleavage. She’s dressed like a polished paralegal in a fitted navy dress, and it makes me feral. Literally, she’s a runner, and I chase her every morning.

As usual, she has no idea.

“Look,” she huffs, a sexy tendril falling free from her ponytail, “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,” Ruby 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 smirk. My truth.

You know that other saying about karma being a bitch?

She is. She’s my mom. And I’m a proud son-of-a-beautiful-bitch. For my mother, my kind of karma kills, too.

That’s why I hone my hunting skills with Ruby. She’s my practice. My prey. Though, when I finally feel like catching her, it’s not murder I want.

It’s marriage.

She hates me; she’s perfect for me.

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

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

“When I 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, Mr. Cummings?” Then … she winces.

Getting fired or fired up? Yep, Ruby flirts with it daily.

Fuck, I love our games. I love our chase. I love that she detests me. She should. I’m not a good man.

I arch my brow.

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

Ruby’s desk is organized, her work impeccable. The only thing that gets Ruby in big, bad trouble with a wolf like me is her fiery, stubborn streak.

She’s a fighter like her sister, Scarlett Mercier, so I hired her. I wanted Ruby’s research skills and close access to Charleston’s most powerful people. Her sister is married to one of them: Luca Mercier, the billionaire hotelier. That’s a resource I plan to exploit.

The fact that Ruby makes me sweat like a rabid wolf is just icing on my bloody cake.

I didn’t think I’d fall for a woman again. The last two almost killed me.

But Ruby?

I’ve never felt this alive. This obsessed. This hungry. This perfect fighting match between me and a woman.

“Then help yourself and pick up my dry cleaning,” I say, smirking at her.

“That’s harassment.” Her gaze narrows. I relish how it crinkles her button nose, too. “Fetching your tiny little suits is not in my job description.”

Tiny? Hardly. I’m six-four and only swell larger around her.

“How cute.” I wink. “Lecturing me on the law when you’re the paralegal who engaged in the unauthorized practice of it 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 she grinds her teeth, the hinge of her dainty jaw flexing and making my teeth snag my bottom lip.

I love a good fight. I’m anticipating it. Waiting. Wanting. Needing her to say something feisty while my cock twitches for it, too.

Ruby crosses her legs every time I approach. Yes, I’ve noticed. Instinctually, she’s an animal, too. Her body knows what I hunt. I’m just curious if her whip-smart mind is aware of her arousal as she snarls, “Mr. Cummings, why don’t you?—”

My smirk slides into a grin, craving her next insult, but…

The elevator ding lifts my glare from Ruby to the vintage brass doors as they slide open.

Across my law office, with its gleaming wooden floors, large arched windows, and stately antique desks I collect in this refurbished historic brick building on Meeting Street, 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.

And I shouldn’t have. It was the most taboo and tempting and traitorous thing I’ve ever done, but I couldn’t say no to her. I couldn’t resist her tears.

“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.”

Yes, lies. They hunt me when I’m around Alena.

“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 me, “Helen’s getting lunch. She’s your assistant. I don’t know what your schedule is.”

Yes, I make sure of it. Until now…

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.

I want to say something shitty and mean to her—something so characteristically me because if Ruby really hated our fights, she’d quit. Any law firm would kill to have her. But no, that’s my instinct. I’ll kill to keep her. Ruby’s mine. She loves our fights, too, but not around Alena.

I’m a different man with her. Indeed, Alena has no idea who I am, either.

Yes, I’m the most respected property lawyer in South Carolina. Yes, I’ve been her godfather since Alena was ten. Yes, her father is my best friend; he’s like my brother. So yes, I’m a dead man if Nash Allen ever finds out about me and his daughter.

Sure, Alena knows to hide our secret from her father, but she doesn’t know she’s engaged to my baby brother now.

Their engagement party is tonight.

Hell, that’s probably why she’s here because I won’t let Alena tell her fiancé about us. No one can know about us.

But Alena’s too honest. Too innocent. It’s killing her to lie while I live for it. Lies keep me alive. They keep my brothers alive. I have six ex-Bratva brothers, counting Nash, and if they find out about me and Alena, it will kill us. Our secret will kill my family.

To Alena, I’m her biggest secret.

To me, she’s my sweetest shame.

To Ruby?

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

They’re searching. They’re suspicious. They’re … oh, fuck … jealous?