Manacled Hearts: an Age Gap Mafia Romance (The Sanctum Syndicate Book 3)

CHAPTER 4

I spring from one foot to the other, jumping back before Madd’s jab connects to my ribs.

“You’re too slow, Hennessey.”

“Fuck you, Severin. I dodged it, didn’t I?” I spit back.

Only, he wasn’t wrong. I’m distracted.

He shakes his head and in two steps I barely acknowledge, he’s facing my side and punches me straight in the middle of my back. I land chest first on the rope of the ring, my breath snapped out of my lungs. The asshole doesn’t even bother to rub it in—he proved his point.

“I saw her yesterday,” he says as I push away, back into position.

“Her who?” The question doesn’t come out as nonchalant as I hoped.

“Evelyn Shaw.”

I miss his jaw when I take a swing, distracted by those two words. He whips around like he’s not just shy of seven feet tall and built like a mountain, and I turn, narrowing my eyes on him.

“What you do on your own time, Severin, is not my concern.”

How was she doing?I don’t dare ask out loud, pushing the curiosity away.

“I took her and her sister out for ice cream,” he continues, disregarding my words.

I swing at him again, catching his jaw, but not hard enough to make him shut up about her.

Was she happy to go, or did she fight you?

“Ice cream? Really? What the hell is your goal there?” I ask.

What flavor did she get?

“You tell me,” he counters, swinging his leg in a turning kick that catches me in the hip.

“I’m minding my own business. You should too.” I haven’t seen the girl since I went to Katya’s a few days ago.

He scoffs and I spurt toward him, side-kicking him in the stomach before swinging for his jaw again. But my fist doesn’t connect. He swats my hand away, kicks my feet from under me, and slams me back against the floor.

“And what is your business, Hennessey? Does it have to do with the shiny black card Katya gave me this morning?” He presses his forearm into my chest, his amber gaze pinning me in place.

My eyes widen, and I lift my leg, attempting to push him off. Why did Katya give my goddamn bank card to him? She was supposed to use it on Evelyn herself.

“Or maybe it has to do with the two people who were told to keep an eye on her, help her, follow her around, even if they are assigned to Katya and the building?” he continues, pressing just a bit harder into my chest before he snaps back and rises.

He offers me his hand to help me up, but the pulse in my temples rages. I grab his hand and use all my force to swing my legs around, hook them around his ankles and pull him down, throwing him over my head. The floor of the ring shakes like a goddamn earthquake, but I’m even more furious when I rise and find Madds snickering to himself as he lies there.

I draw a deep breath, trying to steady myself, because he’s reading too much into this. There is no ulterior motive. “I was simply trying to help Katya, since she took on this situation, and it’s unfair to leave her on her own. We need her to be focused on the escort service.”

“Situation…” he repeats as he rises back to his full height. “So, are you going to go see the situation again?”

Yes.

“No. I have no reason to,” I answer.

“She’s a smart woman, you know,” he says, and I lunge at him just to shut him the fuck up.

I don’t want to hear any more about the silver and gold eyes that have haunted me since the moment she came out of that godforsaken container. I don’t want to be reminded of the glow of her olive skin. Her wheat-colored hair that grazes her too-slim waist. Nor of the look of disdain she shot me the last time I saw her.

The girl can’t occupy any space in my mind.

I’m a sick bastard for allowing any of these thoughts.

“She’s been taking care of her sister for the best part of two years.” Madds deflects my attack, but I block his back.

Why has she been doing this?

“Working to support her through school, while dodging the authorities. She’s resourceful. She fooled the system.”

Then she got herself kidnapped by the scum of the fucking earth. The same type of bastards who took—no!

“She asked about us,” Madds continues, distracting me from that dangerous train of thought.

“What did she ask?” I stop, scowling at him.

“Who we are. What we are.” He throws a combination of jabs and crosses that I just about manage to block.

Why the hell would Evelyn ask these things? She doesn’t need to know who we are, and she doesn’t need to know what we do.

“And you didn’t find that strange, Severin?”

“No.”

Fucking idiot!

“What did you tell her?”

I swing a few punches at him, barely managing to catch him with an uppercut. He’s fast. And good. Too good. It’s why he’s the one in charge of training our men. But our sessions are not about beating the shit out of each other. Over the last eight years or so I discovered that this is my way of coping. It’s masochism in its purest form. And fuck knows I need the punishment.

“I kept it vague,” he answers, “Told her we’re businessmen. We have a few ventures around town.”

It’s not a lie. We do. We have this space here—The Fightclub—which is exactly what it says on the tin. Only, we organize high-stake matches with a select audience, bare knuckle boxing, and some brutal sessions that end close to death. Over the years, a few have ended up that way. Maddox is the one who handles all the affairs here. He’s also the reigning champion.

This place is also a front for money laundering. But that’s the back of house business. Carter Pierce, our resident, brutal genius started that hustle, but I took over a few years back. I don’t regret not finishing university, but for years I felt like I couldn’t match the talents of the rest of the Sanctum. However, it turns out I have a knack for numbers and strategies.

Above this expansive basement we have our speakeasy, Midnight, which is our most legit business. It’s another one of Carter’s ideas, and his true baby. It only caters to a select clientele, and even those on our list need to request a password for every visit in order to enter. No one can simply show up, and it’s not open to the public.

However, our primary business, for years now, has been gaining and using information. And no one is better at extracting it than Vincent The Serpent Sinclair. We make it our business to know as much as possible about everything moving in our city and beyond, and we control it all, too. Some call it blackmail, we call it good business. Information is power, and in our underworld, we are kings. Even normal folk whisper about us, but in their ears, our ventures are mere rumors. Legends. They fear us, yet respect us. Likely scared that we know their biggest secrets.

We do.

This side of our business is where Katya and her girls are involved. The escort service is a front, and the women working for us have bigger goals and stunning skills much more important than accompanying someone to a restaurant or fucking them. They know how to get information out of people, they know how to steal it, too, and they’re highly trained. Katya oversees them all, and I’m also involved there, supporting her.

I’m glad Madds had the sense not to get into all these details with Evelyn.

“She was fine with that vague answer?”

“No,” Madds answers.

I stiffen, exasperated that I keep having to pry the answers out of him. “And?”

“She’s not an idiot, Hennessey, she knows we’re not legit. Especially considering how we found her, and then… rescued her. Though, I’m not sure she remembers anything of her rescue.”

“But that doesn’t mean we have to give her a goddamn introduction course to our business,” I snap.

“I didn’t. But I had to give her something since it was impossible to hide how everyone was looking at me. I told her our organization is called The Sanctum, and our business means people know us around town.” Madds drops his arms to his sides, his head cocked. “Why are you so tightly wound when it involves her?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I am not tightly wound. He’s being fucking ridiculous. “She’s an outsider, Severin. I don’t want her living at Katya’s biting us in the ass. She’s a stranger.”

The man grunts, and I scowl.

“Whatever makes you feel better, man. Don’t fucking expect her to stay blind to our world, not when she’s living in it now.”

“Not for long,” I mutter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did she say when she plans on leaving?” I deflect.

“And go where? Who’s gonna protect her since we’re still finding the rest of the trafficking ring? And where is she getting money from? Not to mention that we already know she can’t go back until she becomes her sister’s legal guardian.”

A man can dream.

“I’ll give her money.”

“Yeah.” He scoffs like it’s the most idiotic thing I could have said. “Good luck with that.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

“She did ask something else.”

I already know I’m going to regret his next words. Though, what bothers me more is her features materializing in my mind the more we talk about her. I’m about to beg him to slam his fist into my temple, in the off-chance it will make them disappear.

“Spit it out already,” I rasp.

“Why are we helping them. Why her.”

My scowl softens, my stomach drops. I wipe a gloved hand over my face and wonder just how fucked I am.

Yeah… good question—why her?

“I gave her my answer,” Madds continues. “Someday maybe you’ll give her yours.”

I right hook him in the cheek before his last word finishes its short echo.

EVELYN

I don’t recognize the person looking back at me from this gold framed bathroom mirror. She doesn’t belong in this beautiful, expensive room. Even if her wheat-colored hair matches the theme of this apartment she’s been living in for a few weeks now.

I rake my fingers through my long strands, hating how even my own touch makes me feel so vulnerable. I used to love my hair. My only pride, even when my fading body stopped feeling like mine as my meals became more scattered. The sweet memories of my mother brushing it when I was a child are now tainted.

We have to go back. There’s no way we can stay here amongst these strangers. Maddox told me what they allegedly do—businessmen. I scoff at the thought. Sure… because businessmen rescue little girls from containers. Organize operations to destroy sex trafficking rings. And have 24/7 security.

They may be businessmen, but they are definitely on the wrong side of the law.

Just as the men who took us.

Burning flares over my scalp, and I find myself clutching my hair, pulling at it. There’s a few too many hairs tangled between my fingers when I release it, and bile rises in the back of my throat. Even by my own hands I can’t handle it…

God, I need to pull myself together.

It’s too early for me to leave. I need money. A bit of time. And a plan on becoming Maya’s legal guardian. When we’re returning to Fleeton, it will be in a place of our own, not on the streets again.

Which means I need a job.

I flinch when a knock sounds at the door, startling me out of my thoughts.

“It’s me,” Katya says. “I wanted to let you know I’m home and that we’ve been invited somewhere.”

“I’ll be out in a second.”

Invited somewhere?

I rush to wash my hands, running them through my hair to fix the mess I made, and walk out. Katya’s in her bedroom, door open as she takes off her blouse.

I whip around, cringing. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I’m only changing.”

I’ve never been part of a family or group of friends where undressing in front of each other was normal. Nudity has always been something rather private in my life. I always found it peculiar when girls from school casually mentioned going into their bathrooms when their moms took a bath or something.

When I turn, I find her pulling on a T-shirt and switching her skirt to a pair of loose jeans. I can deal with that, but something about nudity makes me feel like they’re going to think I’m gawking at all their private parts.

“Where were you invited?”

“Not just me, all three of us,” she answers.

“I don’t understand.”

“One of the guys is having a little get-together at his house. Just our… group.”

Did she want to say The Sanctum? Maddox said that’s how they’re known in Queenscove. Like that isn’t another indication that they are more than just a business.

“They suggested it would be good for you and Maya to join,” Katya says. “Socialize in a comfortable, safe environment.”

“Who’s they?”

“Maddox and the others.” I hate that I was hoping she would name a certain blue-eyed, striking man. “He lives in a secluded house in the middle of Queen’s Woods. It’s safe and private. I’m not forcing you, but Maddox and I think it would be nice for you to meet a few more people.”

My gut tightens with unease, but intrigue too. Diving deeper into their world is something I really want to avoid, especially when it’s in their home. But this might be the only opportunity I have to see just how safe Maya and I are. I don’t trust them, even with Katya I have reservations, and I need to find out if I’m making the right choice by staying here, or if we should take our chances out there on our own.

“I promise, you’ll be perfectly safe. Brinn is driving us, and he’s staying too. So, if at any point you are uncomfortable, he will bring you right back.”

That doesn’t sound too bad.

“I guess it would be okay.”

“Great. Now, I stopped by a shop and got you and Maya some new clothes since I heard you’re choosing to be stubborn.” She walks out before I have a chance to voice my protest.

I follow and find her pulling some garments from an expensive-looking bag. “Nothing crazy, a few T-shirts, some joggers, leggings, underwear, sports bras, and jeans. Basic colors. I have the receipt if the sizes are too big.” She forces the clothes into my hands. “Now, go try them on and pick something comfy to wear. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

I want to protest yet again, but it’s beginning to sound not only repetitive, but silly. Are new clothes really so bad? I’m not signing my soul or anything. I can force myself to accept them and repay them when I can to make sure there are no strings attached.

“Oh, um okay. I’ll go get Maya.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll sort her out.”

“Katya.” My voice holds too much urgency, and she whips around instantly. “Can I see what you bought for her?”

The brief confusion softens, and she nods, pulling out more clothes than she bought for me. It pulls at my heartstrings just a bit seeing this, and I’m thankful she’s not insulted by my need to be aware of what she got for Maya. There are leggings, T-shirts, underwear, a couple of skirts and dresses in an array of colors. I can’t help the meek smile, and she takes it as a seal of approval and walks back out.

I’m stuck in place, watching the door and debating if I should go be with Maya while she picks clothes… when she gets dressed. I have no reason not to trust Katya, but getting used to letting someone else alone in a room with her has been more difficult than I thought it would be. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to it, but I know deep down I hope I will. Having constant eyes on my sister will be impossible, especially if I get a job.

I’ll try harder tomorrow, but for now, I leave the door cracked so I can hear her voice in the other room as she squeals and giggles.

Ten minutes later, dressed in a simple, black T-shirt, mom-style jeans rolled up at the bottom, and brand-new Converse, I’m back at staring in the gold-rimmed mirror, debating using some of Katya’s make up. It’s been so long since I’ve used any. Before our life went to shit, I was just starting to dabble in it, and I knew exactly the style I loved. Dark, moody, edgy, just like the rock music my dad was playing when he tinkered in the garage. I was terrible at it though; no one taught me how to draw a proper wing with the liquid eye liner. At the end of most of my experiments and practice runs, I looked like a panda. By the time I started getting better at makeup, I couldn’t afford it anymore.

Maybe I should just settle for some concealer today. Cover the dark circles.

Katya’s reflection pops up in the mirror as she stands in the open doorway. “Do you need any help?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think I want to wear any makeup, but…” I trail off because I don’t actually know where I’m going with this.

“There’s more stuff in that drawer.” She points to the right, in the tall, corner cabinet.

“Thank you.” I cast a quick glance, but stay in place.

“You’re beautiful no matter what, Evelyn. And where we’re going you don’t need to worry about make up. Only if you want to make yourself feel better.”

I didn’t realize I was tense, but with her words, my spine relaxes instantly. She puts a smile on my lips, too.

Yes, makeup does make me feel better.

I pick up the concealer and dab a bit under my eyes. It’s a bit too light for my complexion, but it will do. I decide to add some mascara, the silver and gold of my eyes popping when my dark blonde lashes turn black, and finish with a little peach blush.

“Here.” Katya hands me a lipstick. “It’s new. Sheer and natural.”

It’s a pinkish-peachy color that instantly puts me off. But Katya’s nodding to me to use it, so I reluctantly open it and swipe it over my lips.

“Oh, it’s sheer.” This is more a balm than lipstick. “Thank you.”

I love a bold lip, but I don’t feel bold at all right now. This is perfect.

“Don’t mention it. All done?”

I nod, glancing in the mirror one final time, before I walk out to find Maya in the living room, twirling in her new dress.

“She chose it herself,” Katya says, “I suggested some leggings and a blouse, but she saw the dress and I think I stopped existing for her after that.”

I smirk, knowing full well that girl adores dresses. As girly as possible, too. She’s not that fussed about colors, although she seems to love this dusty-pink. This one is casual, long enough to cover her knees and slightly pinched at the waist. When I shift my gaze lower, I realize Katya bought us matching Converse, and Maya is wearing hers, too. This might be the cutest thing.

She’s adorable.

“Come on, little girl, let’s go.” I grab her hand and follow Brinn and Katya out the door.

* * *

When Katya mentioned woods, this stunning house was not what I expected to find in the middle of it. Dark wood and enormous windows blend seamlessly between the trees of the forest. But that’s not what’s been making me gawk like an idiot—it’s the people. The atmosphere.

“Welcome! Come in, come in.” A stunning woman with wild, red curls waves us inside.

The enticing smells of grilled meat and something deliciously sweet make my mouth water, but the laughter from the background distracts me. This house is alive.

“Hello!” my sister says with a teeth-showing grin, but she doesn’t leave my hold.

“Hi! You must be Maya,” the redhead says. “I’m Morrigan. You can call me Morri.”

“Hello, Morri!” My sister waves with enthusiasm, a great big smile on her face.

She switches her attention to me, and her red-lipped smile and striking green eyes pull me in. “And you must be Evelyn.”

Christ, she’s gorgeous.

“I am. Hi. Thank you for inviting us.”

“Well, I heard the trip to Genaro’s went well, so I thought we could take it a step further.”

“It did. His ice cream was delicious,” I say with a smile.

Morrigan shakes her head and pats her full hips. “And utterly addictive.”

“Good,” a deep voice sounds behind her as a tall, broad man approaches, wrapping her in his arms. “I should ask him for a daily supply.”

He gives her a sweet, yet suggestive smile before turning his attention to Maya and me.

“Hi Evelyn. Maya.” He nods at us, but that smile is already gone. “I see you met my wife.”

He’s not rude, though. It’s like his smiles are only reserved for her.

I know him—he’s Vincent, the owner of this house. He helped rescue us, Maya specifically. When Maddox returned the next day to ask me some questions about the warehouse, Vincent came too, and I was instantly apprehensive. The man looked cut from stone. Stern and hard with his pitch-black eyes.

“Thank you for inviting us,” I tell him.

“No need to thank me.”

I doubt that. We’re in their home. Their actual home. I really don’t think any outsiders ever step foot in here, and I’m definitely one.

We’re led into the open space kitchen and living area, and there’s a view to die for at the back of the house. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook a cozy deck, and the forest surrounds the whole thing. It’s so beautiful, I want to scream. If it weren’t for the people sitting on the outdoor sofas and chairs, talking and laughing, there would probably be no sound out there beyond the rustling of leaves and bird song.

“Hello there!” A sweet voice pulls my attention to the kitchen, and an older woman with an apron dusted with flower, comes toward us. “Come in, come in. Food will be ready in a bit, the boys are grilling out there too, but come get a drink. I’m Mamaw June.”

Okay, this is getting more surreal by the second. “Hi, nice to meet you.” I stumble over those words as my brain struggles to compute what I’m seeing. “This is Maya, and I’m Evelyn.”

“I heard, yes. I’m so happy to finally meet you both.” She grabs my hand in hers, her warm smile bringing a uniquely warm sensation. What is that?

“She’s my mother-in-law,” Morrigan says as she heads over to the kitchen island and grabs a wooden spoon to mix something in a large bowl, and Mamaw June joins her.

“Come, I’ll get you both something to drink.” Vincent signals us to follow toward a bar area that’s next to the kitchen.

My mind is spinning, and I follow him without question, stealing another glance outside. It takes a ridiculous amount of effort not to trip over my own feet at the sight—Finnigan Hennessey is staring right at me. Only, unlike everyone else here, he does not smile. That sharp gaze does something to me. Good or bad, I don’t know. I haven’t figured that part out yet.

“We have everything. Juice, fizzy drinks, lots of alcohol.”

“Do you have apple juice?” Maya asks, pulling her hand from mine.

I rip my gaze from the blonde man and place my hand on my sister’s shoulder, turning to Vincent.

“I do. Evelyn, what would you like?”

“I’m not sure. Um… beer?”

He raises an eyebrow but straightens it immediately.

“Do you like Corona?”

Did I think he was going to question my age?

“I do, thank you,” I answer.

He pulls one out of a glass door fridge, pops the cap, and points to a glass and lime, but I shake my head to both.

“Feel free to come here and grab whatever you want. Including the stronger stuff.”

Ah, that’s why he raised his brow. He was surprised I didn’t go for spirits.

“Come, meet the others.” I hear Morrigan before she appears next to me.

We walk out onto the patio, and I stiffen when all focus turns to us. They’re not scrutinizing, but all this attention is daunting.

“You already know them.” Vincent waves a hand toward Maddox, Finnigan, and a man who’s name I didn’t catch that day in the container. He brought me the tracker. “And this is Cillian, Morrigan’s brother.” He points to a bearded, redheaded man who belongs on a magazine cover. “That’s Tina and Beau.”

Two people sharing an armchair nod and smile—definitely a couple.

“And this is Raven.” Morrigan points at one of the most beautiful, black-haired women I’ve ever seen in my life. “And my lovely Loreley. Or Lulu.”

I was wrong, Loreley might be the most beautiful, with her long, icy blonde hair and golden eyes. Jesus, they’re all beautiful. Not even a normal amount of beautiful, crazy stunning and handsome. Maddox’s jagged scar sweeping from his forehead down his cheek just adds to the charm. Even dressed in joggers, leggings, and casual T-shirts, they could just jump on the catwalk right now and no one would bat an eyelid.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Maya says, leaning into me a bit more.

I stifle a laugh. Wow, she finally found her shyness.