Page 45 of Unlawful Seduction

From the time I could remember as a little boy, I’d learned that getting close to anyone only brought heartache. I was the master of staying aloof, finally convincing myself I cared about no one but myself. The ability helped with the loneliness and mind fog that was usually present when caring about someone.

That was why the strange sense of jealousy that had wrapped around my mind surprised the hell out of me. What should it matter that she’d been involved with another man? I honestly couldn’t care less.

At least I hadn’t about anyone up to this point.

Half laughing, I had to admit the woman and her usual bubbly although demanding personality was not just alluring. It reminded me of a drug that addicts killed and prayed for just to survive.

I purposely turned the photograph section off, shifting my attention to her texts and emails. You could learn about a person’s entire life story through their communications,especially when the person hadn’t thought to set up an automatic erase after thirty or sixty days.

Which she hadn’t.

The doc was far too trusting. I’d teach her about the efforts criminals went to in order to gain trust as well. She’d need to have every weapon other than a traditional gun or knife to protect herself after I was gone.

Just in case.

Although knowing her personality, it was entirely possible she’d accept both lessons and a gift of a handgun as well.

I could see nothing that would provide any concern on a single text or email. She had a couple of good friends, had used the same real estate agent I had when purchasing this house, and rarely ordered takeout food.

What I didn’t like was her use of the phone to handle most of her business transactions from ordering items online to handling payments and deposits. She was typical of any other trusting individual who’d been brought up learning about right versus wrong.

She thought the best of people.

In my world that would eventually end her life prematurely.

With her passcodes easy to obtain without needing any special equipment, she was begging thieves to perform a cyberattack.

What I didn’t find was a single mention of either my past or current name, that of the Valenti crime syndicate, or of an unknown male who might be connected to the assassination attempts.

In other words, the woman lying in my bed who’d provided the only taste of true happiness I’d experienced in years was one hundred percent exactly who she purported herself to be.

I tossed her phone across my desk, angry with myself for invading her privacy. That was just another first in a line of invasive behaviors involving her. Groaning, I raked both hands through my unruly hair. I needed a shower, a shave, and a cup or two of hot coffee.

For right now, I’d deal with the coffee. My mind had been too busy to consider obtaining any sleep. I’d need to keep sharp while locked behind closed doors. What troubled me more than it had in the past was realizing just how totally off the grid I’d allowed myself to go. I’d been a self-contained kid, but once I’d gotten older, I’d developed a network of carefully selected individuals who could provide me with information, weapons, physical assistance, unquestionable identification, and whatever goods and services I required with few questions asked.

I’d shaved all those contacts down to a single one and right now, Mike wouldn’t be able to do jack shit. The biggest reason? The fucking storm. There was no cell service. We were stuck for now and I didn’t appreciate feeling like a caged animal.

Had my earlier connections come with a price? Yes, but I’d also used blackmail on several occasions. No good crime syndicate leader handled business without learning the art of extortion. I had no one to contact for a favor. All ties had been severed on the night I’d disobeyed orders and brought down the Valenti house.

It was entirely possible that a good number of my contacts were dead, eliminated by those hoping to see if I was still alive. While most had been kept secret, a few were known simply because of the nature of the business.

There was no love lost. They’d performed a job like any other vendor and nothing more. They’d known the odds of seeing the backside of forty when they’d gotten into the world. So had I. Up until this point, the loss of their services hadn’t meant shit to me. I was perfectly capable of securing a new location to live.

But I’d never allowed myself to become careless in the four different cities and states I’d lived in up to this point. I’d been determined to bring my past life to a close and forge on.

Maybe I’d believed acts of revenge had a life span.

My mistake had been leaving a single member of the family left alive.

Perhaps nurturing some additional contacts would be in my best interest. It was a thought, but I’d need to delve through the odds carefully. Anyone could be bought.

I took long strides into the kitchen, stopping short as soon as I walked through the doorway. The scene could have been considered comical. Jax’s front paws were on the edge of the counter, his tail slapping back and forth happily. My guest was standing on her tiptoes, attempting to tug off a box or two of coffee from the top shelf of the cabinet. Two boxes were placed precariously close to the edge of the shelf.

My cock was now fully awake given the tee shirt I’d offered Mallory was an old one I’d brought with me through every move, two sizes too small for the man I’d become. While it looked damn hot on her, including the number 24, which was my old football jersey number, her actions had pulled the shirt up to the point I was given an incredible view of the rounded portion of her bottom.

She was struggling, determined to grab the items without asking for help or seeing if there was a stepstool anywhere. There was. Right near the kitchen door leading out back. She was a stubborn woman, as hardheaded as they came. I folded my arms, both thoroughly amused and completely aroused.

As soon as I cleared my throat, she cursed, Jax barked, and three different boxes came tumbling down on her head.