Page 4 of Unleash Hades
I walked in and sat at his desk. I didn’t do anything but sit. When days went by and Richard didn’t mention the invasion, I assumed that the coast was clear.
I felt like one of those Raptors in Jurassic Park, testing the electric fence to find a weakness. Like them, I was held captive by an insane man who was using me to build his empire.
The device in hand, I walked with slow, silent steps. Six steps from the door, and slightly to the right. Right at the center of the table was his laptop.
I opened it. And Jesus, what had Gavin told me? I don’t need to hack, or try his password - in fact, he discouraged it. I just had to put in the USB.
Okay. I could do that.
I fingered the ports, trying to find the right place to put the dongle, until it caught, and slid in with ease.
A lesson for most men… especially Richard.
A small green light on the USB glowed like a firefly. There was no turning back now.
Was I making a mistake? Was I taking my life into my own hands? Or was I putting it intohishands?
Remember what happened to Adelia.
Even if I could not speak her name, I could think it. I could keep her in my heart. Just another precious morsel that I kept hidden from the world.
I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, trying to visualize something that could soothe my mind. But only one thing worked… memories of his dark, tanned, calloused hands over my forearms invaded my mind. The way he barely spoke, and just stared with deep brown eyes.
With a sympathetic gaze, he opened my mouth and made me reveal all my darkest secrets.
My breathing slowed; my skin felt warm. Even now, he was my reprieve from misery.
The light on the USB turned red. I pried it out, my heart going a million beats a minute. I calmed myself, came to my feet, and walked out the door, shutting it firmly behind me.
So far, so good.
The boys weren't here. Richard wasn’t here.
So why did I feel the heat of someone’s eyes boring into my skin? I looked around, but no one was there. I was alone.
Always alone. Toujours seul.
Chapter 2
Hugo
Strathlachlan, Scotland
Merde.Scottish food was derived from the lowest circle of Hell.
I cut off a small piece of the dinner they placed in front of me and took a sniff before I let it touch my tongue.
“For a man who eats fatty duck liver as a delicacy, you’re awfully picky about your food,” Alastair said with a small grin.
The half-Irish, half-English mafia prince was the elated father of newborn twins. His wife and children were banished from the United States when a Mafia war brewed. Now they were in exile, of a sort, on the Caledonia Security Estates.
Alastair was happy to be far from his father-in-law. His wife was not.
The Tudor building was designed like pods, with several suites at the owner’s disposal. It was a holdover from the olden days when the King and other nobles would visit each other’s homes with their family to pass their otherwise useless and mundane lives.
The founder of Caledonia Security was a baron, with a lineage going back to Charlemagne. He had a pedigree that led to the crown of England three times over, high enough to be named in the line succession, but not so high that anyone knew who he was.
Still, his cooking staff were a fucking embarrassment.
