One month later.
I look out at the mermaid. Although, legendary as mermaids are, they’re not as pretty as Olivia swimming in the Thames. I sigh.
I had hoped she would have a long and happy life, away from me and Camden and London. I had envisaged her moving to France or something, bathing in the sea.
“Are you sure of what you heard?”
“Boss, I prefer my head attached to my shoulders,” says Brenna. She’s my spy within Camden and was an advisor to Trudy for years. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
I grunt. Brenna is right. Henry is a loose cannon. He’s always been savage, but this is London, ruled by mafia lords. We all are. Some say he’s mad or mentally ill, and that’s the only reason he’s still alive and I haven’t put a bullet in his head. Yet.
The truth is I promised his mother I’d take care of him, and I’m sentimental enough to want to do that.
But threatening Olivia? That’s unacceptable.
“There they are.” Brenna nods at the far bank of the river.
Henry’s friends Carter and Steven appear where Olivia has left her clothes.
Shit.
Nominally speaking, they are my men, but their loyalty is clearly with Henry. I wonder how many others would be fool enough to accompany that madman. There will be consequences for those two, and Henry.
As the Camden sector lord, I protect my people with an iron fist in a velvet glove. I didn’t ask for the job, not that anyone ever asks for it. Most take the position by violence, whereas it was practically forced upon me. But when your brother is beating up his wife, you intervene as things turn deadly. Or at least, I did. And I don’t regret it.
My gaze returns to Olivia. She’s finished her cold-water swim and is floating on her back, casual as you like. I suppress a pang of yearning.
The last time I saw her she was wearing an ugly wig, and although still beautiful, unimaginably beautiful, she didn’t have the compelling presence she has now. Her dark hair floats around her head like a halo. She’s not a mermaid, she’s a river angel. And just below the surface of the water, there’s a hint of her curves, so, so tempting.
I’ve wanted those curves since I first saw her.
Wrong, so wrong.
I might be fucked up, but lusting after my nephew’s betrothed is beyond the pale, even for me. Yes, it was a power match made by their parents, but they seemed well suited as friends. So I’ve watched and loved her from a distance. And when she disappeared, and everyone assumed she was dead, I knew better. Because she couldn’t be. I’d know in my soul if Olivia was gone because it would break off the last part of me.
On the far bank Carter and Steven have collected Olivia’s clothes, where she probably has a knife secreted away. I’ve always thought they were stupid, but Olivia isn’t to be trifled with. They’re right to remove any sense of security if they want to catch her alive.
“You know, Henry won’t be as kind to Olivia as he was to Trudy,” Brenna says conversationally, and I tense. “He ended it quickly for his mother, but I doubt he would object to his friends having a bit of fun with the woman who spurned him.”
I growl incoherently. Brenna is right, of course. Henry was distraught when Olivia left. Her clothes were discovered at the edge of one of the Hammersmith swimming lakes. But she’ll pay for his grief; it’s petrified into anger and resentment in the months since she’s been gone.
It took me a while to track Olivia down, working at a flower shop like she wasn’t a princess. Clever girl. And now I have to get her out of the way, before she’s murdered or hurt or worse. Any harm to her is not an option. Not for me.
“Can you deal with Carter and Steven?”
“You want them dead?”
“Of course.” They made this inevitable. I’ve let Henry and his treacherous friends live too long, just as I let his father live too long. And if the price of Olivia’s safety is I die removing Henry, so be it.
Olivia is still floating in the water, wearing a flower-patterned pale-blue swimsuit and nothing else. Damn, if I’d known all this time that I could get a fix of seeing Olivia by coming to the river ten miles out of London, I would… Have not done it. Not just because I’m not a pervert, but because I wouldn’t want to impose the danger of being part of the mafia onto her, when she’s free and safe in her anonymity.
But I would have dreamed of coming to watch her. She swims elegantly, lithe as she turns onto her front and cuts a line through the water. Lazily cooling down after her exercise, making her way…
I strip off my suit jacket and tie.
“We move now,” I command Brenna. “They’ll take her as she comes out of the water. She’s about to swim right into their trap.”
Brenna pauses for a second before she sees I’m correct. Then she’s off, at a run, heading towards the bridge and around. But she won’t get there in time to stop them harming Olivia, and Carter and Steven aren’t in the line of sight for me to shoot them.
I yank my shirt over my head and shove off my trousers, leaving my boxers. Watching Olivia in the water has caused an inconvenient turgidity I would rather she didn’t notice.
Bad enough to be kidnapped, worse to think that I’d do anything like that against her will. Because I wouldn’t.
I slip noiselessly into the water.
My blood pounds through me in anticipation of our chase. I can see how this ends. Her and me, naked, me hunting her. Me the predator, her the prey. My cock hardens further, despite the chilly water. I’d love her to flee from me, checking over her shoulder that I’m following. Running until I catch her and pin her with my body. Then when I hold her down, I’d find her wet, writhing with need, arching up, begging me to take her. A fun game of seduction.
In my dreams anyway.
This reality is quite different.
I’m going to catch her, make her safe, kill our enemies, then release her back to nature, like the soft animal she is, for all she likes playing with knives.
But right now, I can imagine this is our game, for all it is a necessity.
Olivia might be a mermaid, but I am a shark.
