Six weeks until the wedding.
It takes me ten minutes to break into the senator’s email, another five to crack his Instagram password, six more to find his alternate Snapchat username, and three to download all his direct messages.
Including the extremely graphic sexual exchanges between him and various escorts, e-girls, and OnlyFans models.
For some reason, Senator Michaelson sure loves describing his penis in agonizing, exaggerated detail.
I wonder how his wife is going to feel about her beloved husband describing his genitals as “thicker than a redwood and longer than a football field” to a woman no older than his college-aged daughter.
Once all that rotten information is saved on my secure hard drive, I quickly cover my tracks and make sure there’s no way anyone will trace the hack back to me.
I finish up by shooting a quick, encrypted message to the Mantis, letting them know that I’m ready to send over all the information.
The car door opens. I close my laptop lid and look in the rearview as my boss, Tigran Sarkissian, gets into the back. We’re technically related, though I think it’s very distant, and we only got to know each other when I was hired to replace his former personal guard and driver. He’s the second most powerful man in the Armenian Brotherhood, a massive, sprawling crime syndicate that controls all of our hometown of Baltimore.
He nods at me, lips pressed together in a tight smile.
“Working again?” he asks, nodding at the computer.
“Just doing some digging for the Black Mantis.”
He grunts, smile fading. “I’m surprised you do jobs for those vicious fucks.”
“They pay well, and I figured you’d want me to maintain a healthy professional relationship with them.”
“That’s smart,” he says, nodding slightly, but he looks uneasy. “Still, be careful. The Mantis are goddamn ruthless. I hear they flayed a man alive for losing them a few thousand dollars last year.”
Which is genuinely no worse than what he’s done, but I don’t say that out loud.
“It was twelve thousand, and he already owed them thirty on top of that.” But Tigran does have a point. The Mantis are a secretive criminal organization based out of Taiwan with a focus on cybersecurity. If the scheme involves hacking, blackmail, illegal tech, or anything digital, they likely have their fingers in it.
And they don’t tolerate failure.
Lucky for me, I never fuck up.
I put the car in gear and get the engine warmed up. We’re parked outside of Arsen’s house, the patron of the Brotherhood. It’s an enormous, sprawling mansion on the very outskirts of town. They were in a meeting for the last hour while I knocked off that simple hack on my satellite wireless. As I pull out into traffic and head back toward the heart of the city, Tigran glances at me, and his smirk is back.
“We were talking about the McGraths today,” he says casually. “It’s been quiet on the war front ever since our agreement was put in place.”
Our agreement meaning my arrangement with Riley.
A flash of her lying on my bed. Her legs spread, her fingers gliding up and down her pussy. Her gasps and moans, the top buttons of my shirt undone, her hand massaging her breast, fingers rolling over a pierced nipple.
Fuck, that girl’s been trapped in my head ever since she broke into my house last week.
“That’s good,” I grunt at him, focusing on the drive.
“How are you feeling about it?” he asks.
“I’m feeling…” I tail off, considering how to answer. Then decide on the truth. “Uninterested.”
Tigran’s eyebrows raise. “You’re uninterested? That’s an odd answer, even coming from you.”
“The marriage is irrelevant. We’re only doing this to force a peace between our two organizations. It’s not like I care about the girl or even know her.”
Except I know the color of her lips as an orgasm rips through her pale skin. I know the way she smells, like lilacs and grass. I’ve been unwilling to wash my comforter for the past week, obsessed with that perfect scent.
It’s maddening. Insane, really.
I spent that night watching and rewatching the footage from her visit, over and over again, stroking my cock and obsessing over every little detail of her body, from her perfect auburn curls to the way she walks on her toes.
I had to delete everything and smash the hard drive to keep myself from spending the rest of my life staring at her.
“I understand what you mean,” Tigran says, looking back out the window. He seems subdued and unhappy. “That’s how I thought of my arrangement with Dasha at first. But you might find yourself changing your mind.”
“That’s unlikely.”
“Have you ever been in a serious relationship before?”
I shake my head. “No, and I still won’t be.”
“You’re getting married to her.”
“On paper, yes. I’ll be faithful, and I’ll treat her well, but she won’t really be my wife.”
He makes a noncommittal grunt and glances back at me. “You’re forgetting something though. The most important part of the agreement.”
I grind my jaw. I haven’t forgotten that at all. Only I’ve been trying very hard not to think about it because the second I do, all I want is to close my eyes and imagine Riley’s moans.
“I know what I have to do,” I say quietly.
“Getting her pregnant won’t be easy. From what I hear, the girl’s got a mind of her own, and that’s putting it lightly.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“I’m sure you know the mechanics—” He gives me a tight smile. “But it’s a big commitment.”
“I’ll do my duty.”
“Alexan,” he says, getting frustrated now. “You’re not hearing me. Having a child changes things. Right now, you think it’s easy, but trust me. Throw a baby in the mix, and shit gets complicated.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll do what’s required of me.”
He gives me a long, searching look but eventually gives up. “I trust you. She’s got to get pregnant in the first year of your marriage. That’s the same deal I went through, and now it’s your turn. I’d tell you good luck, but I think you’ll need more than luck. If you want my advice, I think you need to come up with a reasonable offer to make. Tell her you’ll buy her a house or something. Make her understand this can be a pleasant situation if you both work together and get along.”
I pull up outside Tigran’s house and park at the curb. He doesn’t leave immediately. His wife and child are waiting inside for him, and I know he adores them more than anything in the world. Brutal, vicious Tigran, tamed by a woman and a baby. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t watched it happen.
He’s still that man. There’s a killer lurking behind that smile. But he’s calmer now, more even-tempered, less prone to solving all his problems with his fists and a blade, which is probably for the best.
But that’s not going to happen with me.
“We appreciate what you’re doing for the Brotherhood,” he says at last and pushes open the door. “I hope you understand that.”
He climbs out and heads into the house.
I kill the engine and lean back in my seat. I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose to calm myself.
Riley McGrath means nothing to me.
She’s just some girl I’m going to marry. Former gymnast, straight-A student according to her high school transcripts, prolific watcher of Friends and How I Met Your Mother, Instagram user, TikTok scroller, normal to the bone.
Except there’s an edge to that girl.
I open my laptop, log into my security system, and check all my cameras.
No thieves, no unexpected guests.
A little twinge of disappointment hits me. I keep hoping she’ll show up again wearing nothing but that shirt.
Except it won’t happen, and when we get married, I’ll forget all about the girl on my screen.
I’ll never be a good husband. I’ll make a terrible fucking father. There isn’t an ounce of love, sympathy, or passion in my heart.
All I care about is controlling my little corner of the world.
But when that spitfire gets thrown into the mix?
I suspect I’m in for one hellish marriage.
