Page 5 of Twins for the Mafia Heir

“Thomas Sr. wasn’t exactlytryingto keep his location a secret,” Achilles says. “The brothers’ estrangement was deep enough that neither of them even attempted to contact eachother again. However, our family at Wesley Hall did have a record of his new address available thanks to an order he placed to have several items of value shipped overseas to him. Things he forgot during the emigration that he didn’t want his brother to have, I believe. It’s hardly important now.”

I’ll be the judge of that, since it’s my life on the line because of this feud. “But… why now?” I ask. “Why start demanding tithe now if you’ve always known where we were?”

Achilles’s eyes narrow on me. “No more questions,” he says impatiently. “At least not from you.”

I open my mouth to argue, but then the plane shudders, its engines roaring to life as the ground beneath us vibrates. My stomach lurches with the sudden acceleration, and I grip the armrest tighter as the plane begins its climb into the sky. The force presses me back into my seat, my body pinned for a moment by the power of the takeoff. The view outside the window shifts, the ground falling away in a rapid, dizzying drop, until the world below becomes a patchwork of tiny, distant shapes.

After a moment, the shaking stops, and the hum of the engines takes over, steady and deep. Achilles cocks his head, as if listening for something, his eyes sharp.

“We’re above cruising altitude now. You can remove your seatbelt.”

I blink at Achilles. Was he giving me that history lesson about the Warwicks… just to distract me from takeoff?

Feeling a little more uncertain, I unbuckle my seatbelt. Achilles leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and looks up at me through dark lashes.

“Now then Miss Warwick,” he says, his rich accent making every syllable a new experience, “any information you can provide about your brother’s ability to pay this tithe- that is, his business ventures, his political allegiances, his personal goals-would be helpful at this stage. Thanks to the delay in payment, there is, of course, a rather large back pay owed now.”

I’ve barely been a member of the Warwick’s estate for six months, and in that time I’ve been relying heavily on Raleigh’s good will and Paul’s affection for strays. But I don’t have a position there or a job I’m expected to do. My background as a street thug makes Thomas reluctant to trust me with anything serious until he’s fully gotten used to me. And I can only agree. I was more than happy to step in for Raleigh’s sake, but if I can dig up some intel on this strange bunch of Warwicks as well, it might help me earn his trust at last.

That does mean, however, that I have next to no information to offer this man even if I wanted to. And the more questions he asks, the more obvious it might become that I’m lying through my teeth. I’m just here to buy time for Raleigh and Thomas. The least I can do is make sure Achilles has made it all the way back to London before I crack.

So I decide to try something that Raleigh might do- something so absurd, it’ll throw Achilles completely off this game.

I decide to seduce him.

I lean forward, matching his pose but resting my chin on my fist. “Are you sure there aren’t other ways we can make up this tithe?” I ask.

Achilles’s dark eyes narrow even further. “That’s not a possibility at this stage,” he says frankly. “If Thomas has to liquidate assets in order to get us the money we’re owed, that’s due to his own carelessness-”

“I’m not talking about money,” I interrupt. Swallowing back my own inexperience and fear, I reach out.

My palm rests on his knee, and before I can second guess or panic, I drag it languidly up his thigh. I’m watching Achilles’s eyes, but his eyes are locked onto my hand. Will he lash outat me for this? Or, maybe worse than that, will he accept this forwardness too enthusiastically?

I’ve never touched a man like this before. I’ve never even been to first base. I’m not prepared for this plan to go wrong, much less right. But I don’t have many more options, and my decision is made now. I have to commit.

“I’m talking about…services,” I say, and I don’t have to fake the breathiness in my voice.

Achilles can’t seem to look away from my hand. I’ve baffled him for the first time, which I’ll take as a small victory. While he’s still frowning and confused, I slip from my chair- into his lap. My legs straddle him, and Achilles jolts. His hands come up, but instead of shoving me off, they grip my hips like vices. My breath catches, but I can’t pull away now.

I hope he thinks I’m trembling with anticipation and not terror as I run my fingers along the stubble of his jaw. His pupils are dark pools eating up the brown of his eyes. His lips part like he wants to speak, but no sound comes out. His brows are furrowed like he wants to protest, but his body has clearly betrayed him.

“What are you-”

“You can be honest with me, Achilles,” I whisper. My thumb strokes over his bottom lip. It’s softer than I thought it would be, and my thoughts stutter before I remember myself. “This is why you really wanted me as a hostage.”

He responds instantly. I feel him harden, his erection pressing up between my legs. I gasp, a pang of heat and feeling shooting through my core-

Achilles blinks, and the spell is over. His hands on my hips are all it takes to shove me right off his lap. I stumble back but manage to keep my feet, only for Achilles to grab my arm and shove me back down into my chair. Before I can even catch mybreath, he’s snatched my wrists, tugged off his belt, and bound both my hands to the armrest of my chair.

At that moment, a flight attendant in a neat uniform comes into the cabin from a back compartment of the plane. She sees Achilles standing over me, sees the belt binding my wrists, and promptly freezes in place. Achilles spares her a single impatient glance.

“Do not touch or speak to this hostage,” he orders her. “Not for any reason. Andyou.” He turns on me, snarling. “Never suggest something so insulting to me again.”

With that, he storms away from me, and the flight attendant also makes herself scarce. I hear the door to the cockpit of the plane open and slam closed, and I’m left alone and breathless.

Chapter 3

Achilles

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