Page 53 of Her Filthy Reverse Harem Romance Collection

That’s when we found out about Katriona. He offered her hand in marriage for the ten million he owed. We didn’t agree at first but after a week of watching her, seeing her live her life free of her father and the three of us couldn’t stop the desire to have her to ourselves. Why? Why would we want her, pull her into the darkness? Because we’re fucking bastards who crave the forbidden and she’s tempting as the forbidden fruit was to Adam in the Garden of Eden.

We signed contracts with Kane and paid out the debt over a course of six months as requested. In the meantime, a few maneuvers and Katriona fell under our roof, our protection as we waited.

Nikki served us well. I’ll have to remember to up her pay. Move her to another club where she can be of help again. Her cover here is burned.

“Mr. Ward. A detective is here to see you.”

Nikki slips into my office silently. I wave her off.

Shit. It was only a matter of time before they showed up. Kane broke all the rules of engagement tonight and now another hell is on my doorstep. Sore fucking loser. Kane couldn’t die soon enough.

I wave in a balding man who looks ten years past his prime. He pauses, his trembling hand glued to the doorknob, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting no doubt. I really don’t give a fuck if he’s scared to step into a dark room with me so I don’t move to make it easier on the man. Intimidation is ninety percent of my job description or the whole fucking underbelly of this town would turn on me.

“Detective Robles. Either step in or get the fuck out,” I greet him dryly.

I watch him cross my office and I gesture to the chair across from me. I’m not in the mood for charades and subterfuge tonight. With little ceremony I toss a white envelope on the desk and watch his greedy eyes light up.

“I hear your son needs a scholarship in the upcoming year. Let’s make that happen.”

I move across the office and see his eyes soaking in the debauchery of the Attic and know this meeting won’t take long.

I pass a single malt to the pasty-looking man.

“Mr. Ward. I…” he struggles to find his words and I lose my temper.

“Get the fuck on with it, Detective.”

“I can’t keep covering for you. This...this...tonight I mean. It isn’t going to go away so easily.”

“If you wanted more money why didn’t you just say so.”

I take out another hefty envelope full of one-hundreds.

“You’re the lead detective on the case?”

He nods.

“The police chief is your brother-in-law?”

Another nod.

I unclip my holster and sit my piece on the desk, making a distinctive move to flick the safety off. “Then I don’t see the problem, Detective. You’ll do what you need to keep our deal balanced, right?”

Drake slides into the office silently. He doesn’t need to say much when the look on his grim face conveys the message.

The detective turns back to me, face chalk white. His gun hand grips the tumbler still half full of top-shelf liquor. He’s let his training go. Grown lax. Pathetic, really, but it’s those details that make him valuable to us.

“Okay. Ward. But clean up your act. I’ll have a couple of good men take care of the bodies. But this is where I draw the line.”

I set my gun over the envelopes and ease my weight onto the corner of my desk.

“Idraw the lines. No one else. Are you and I clear on that?”

Whether he is or not, it doesn’t matter. What I say goes. Chicago is my city and I make damn sure no one steps out of any lines.

The detective throws back the whiskey with a wince and stands.

“See yourself out. I’ll trust you to come up with a story as to why there are three of Kane’s men dead in the alley behind my club before the news makes their morning rotation. Your son will appreciate all your best efforts.” My words hang between us a moment before he stands and mumbles something about fucking mobsters.

---