Page 30 of Undisputed Player
Graffiti covered every available surface, tagged walls proclaiming territory and threats in spray paint that glowed under dying streetlights.
Men clustered on corners with their hands buried in their pockets and eyes that tracked movements with predatory gazes. Drug dealers, probably, or worse. The kind of men who looked at women like Estelle and saw opportunity wrapped in vulnerability.
The kind of men I'd enjoy introducing to Adrian's collection of modified tools.
I parked just outside her building, the engine ticking as it cooled, and turned off the lights. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by distant sirens and the occasional shout echoing off concrete walls like the soundtrack to urban decay.
I reached over to the passenger seat and picked up my silver gun, placing it on my lap for good measure as I looked at the building.
This was where she lived. This was where she brought Leo and herself home every night.
My fingers tightened around the grip of my gun.
The rage that filled me was hot as molten steel. She should be living in my mansion overlooking the ocean and sleeping on Egyptian cotton. She should be waking up to room service and fresh flowers, not the sound of gunshots and domestic violence bleeding through walls.
She should be waking up next to me.
I'd never stalked a woman before. At least not in a way that mattered. Sure, I'd had some checked out, background verified, the usual due diligence for a man in my position. But that was business—protection for my reputation, my assets, my public image.
This was different. This was personal. This was about her protection,her safety, her desperate need for someone strong enough to shoulder the weight she carried alone.
The apartment was on the first floor, just like the comprehensive report had detailed. A dim glow seeped through blinds that looked older than Leo, casting rectangles of weak light onto the cracked sidewalk. As she moved past the window, my breath caught in my throat like I was eighteen again instead of a grown man who commanded respect and fear in equal measure.
She was so fucking gorgeous.
She'd been stunning at the academy— guarded smiles and grace under pressure that spoke of inner steel forged by necessity. But here, in this urban hellhole, she looked fragile. Like one more crisis would shatter her completely, and the pieces would be too small to put back together.
Over my dead body.
The background check I'd ordered burned in my mind as I watched her graceful silhouette move through that pathetic excuse for a home. I'd read it three times, each pass making me more furious, more possessive, more determined to rip her out of this life and give her the kingdom she deserved.
Estelle Moore: Twenty-four years old, guardian to Leo Moore, age five. No family left except for her nephew. Mother deceased: a high-end escort who'd died young. Sister Giselle, also deceased: overdose.
Estelle had stepped up to save Leo from a system that would have chewed him up and spit him out.
No father listed. No support system. No safety net. Just Estelle, working herself to the bone, surviving on willpower and stubborn determination, one disaster away from complete collapse.
She reminded me of my own father in that way. Taking in the guys when they had no one else and turning them into my brothers. Except, Estelle didn’t have the means to take anyone in—she was tired and dirt poor.
The woman was a fucking saint, and the world treated her like she was disposable.
She made just enough for rent in this condemned building, her bank statements reading like a horror story of overdraft fees and declined transactions. No criminal record—not even a parking ticket. Just a string of dead-end jobs, each one barely covering the basics, none of them offering the security she needed to breathe easy.
Her current position at Seaside Academy paid better than her previous jobs, but it was still a joke compared to what she was worth. The remote grading work she did from home brought in supplemental income, but I'd seen the hours she logged, the way she worked until her eyes burned and her shoulders ached.
It made me angry in ways I'd never imagined possible. Rage that threatened to burn me alive from the inside out.
But what really destroyed me, what made my blood run alternately hot and cold, was how absolutely beautiful she was despite everything life had thrown at her. Even in the security footage I'd acquired, she looked like something carved from starlight and dreams.
Mid-length brown hair that caught light like starlight, honey eyes that held depths I wanted to explore for the rest of my life, sun-kissed skin that begged for my touch.
Her body was sharpened by hardship and hunger, but she was perfect. Delicate bones and graceful movements, a mouth that haunted my dreams, legs that would feel like silk wrapped around my waist.
I'd gone several steps further than a simple background check, of course. Within forty-eight hours of meeting her, I'd bought out the corporation that managed her camera’s security app. It had taken less than twenty-four hours and a single phone call to my father's people, the kind of conversation that never happened, involving favors that didn't officially exist.
Now I could access the feeds whenever I wanted. I could see her coming and going, could track who lingered near her door, could watch how she always checked over her shoulder before unlocking the deadbolt.
Looks like I’d be joining Connor’s little iPad setup.
