Scandalous Kingpin (Kingpins of the Syndicate #3)

Prologue

IVY

“ W elcome to Philadelphia!”

The radio announcer’s perfectly timed words echoed through the speakers of Wynter’s Jeep as we took the Benjamin Franklin Bridge across the Delaware River.

Wynter, Juliette, and Davina were my ride-or-dies from Yale. Wynter and Juliette were cousins, raised mostly together by Wynter’s mother in California. Juliette was reckless but easy to love, and based on all the stories they’d shared over the years, she was the yin to Wynter’s yang. Wynter, who’d been preparing for the Olympics since the day she’d slid her feet into her figure skates, had a single-mindedness to her that benefited from Juliette’s wild ways.

Then there was Davina, who always made sure we made the right moves and thought with our sensible brains rather than our lizard ones. We always joked that she was the mother hen of our group, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.

And me… well, I was just me. Ivy Murphy, daughter of an Irish mobster. Both my father and Juliette’s ran our families’ parts in a much larger criminal organization. Her father ran the Brennan Irish mafia, their territory in Ireland and the States, and my athair—father—and my brothers ran the Murphy Irish mafia in Ireland only.

It worked for me—less chances of running into my brothers. Or, as they were known in the underworld, the Irish pricks. I hadn’t been back to Ireland since I stepped foot on American soil, and even now with a Yale degree under my belt, I kept delaying my return to Ireland.

So here the four of us were, en route to carry out our heist—namely, rob one of the kingpins. How did this come to be, you might wonder? Well, it started with a house fire and Davina’s ex-boyfriend blackmailing us. We followed one rule: never steal from the same place twice. So far, we’d robbed Juliette’s father, a casino in Chicago, and now we were shifting our efforts to a club in Philadelphia. Diversity was important to us amateur criminals.

And something good had come out of it.

After Wynter’s boyfriend assisted in erasing the evidence of our past operations, we decided to use the money to start a school. It was a school that would teach a regular curriculum supplemented with fighting, self-defense, and survival in the mafia world.

Before long, Wynter had parked her Jeep and we were strutting through the club like we belonged. On my left was the cloakroom, tinged in red neon lights, and a bar area with a dozen or so high-top tables. Some of the patrons had cleared a space for a dance floor, and behind it, on the farthest wall, hung a familiar sign.

Kingpins of the Syndicate.

Its large skull followed me as we passed through the dance floor, burning a hole in the back of my head.

Music blasted as we walked deeper into the club, vibrating the grimy floor beneath my feet. A few bodies writhed as we weaved between them toward another bar.

We ordered a round of sodas, and as we waited, my eyes traveled over the strobe-lit club. It was clearly catered toward the upper echelon of society—the people here were dressed so finely I could’ve sworn their clothes had come straight from the New York runways.

Juliette and I finished our drinks first, setting them down and moving on to the dance floor. We started swaying to the beat, laughing and shaking our asses like club girls trying to make a living.

Davina and Wynter joined us as “Morning After Dark” by Timbaland came on, and I craned my neck to spy the DJ, a stunning leggy woman with white-blonde hair and a pair of bubblegum-pink headphones. I made a mental note to slide her a tip on our way out.

The four of us laughed and shook our hips, letting ourselves forget the reason we were there. One dance turned into two, then three, and before long, it was time to execute our plan.

“Okay, be on alert, girls,” Wynter said after she’d pulled us into a huddle. “The signal can’t be far off.”

We’d parked in the way of the money truck that was due at any moment. The plan was to go back to the car and follow the money truck out of here. Nothing could stop us now.

Well, almost nothing.

“I have to use the restroom.” I glanced around, looking for a bathroom sign. “I’ll be super quick.”

“If you hear the announcement,” Davina instructed, “don’t come back here. Head straight to the car.”

I scurried off with a jerk of my chin, leaving Juliette, Wynter, and Davina dancing. I waded through sweat-slicked bodies and dodged floating silver trays carrying drinks that glinted beneath the flashing lights. Once in the bathroom, I took care of business, washed my hands, and was about to make my way back down the dark hall when I collided with a man’s hard chest.

He looked down, trailing up my bare legs before his emotionless gaze flicked up and caught mine. It was like he was looking straight through me. Goose bumps raised the hair on my arms, and I instantly knew who he was. Priest, the Syndicate’s kingpin who ruled Philadelphia.

Instinctively, I took a step back, and something dark moved through his eyes.

“Now what have we got here?” he said softly. My stomach dropped like lead and a quiver started in my chest. Being alone with him made it feel like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the small space. “You shouldn’t be out here alone, angel.”

He closed the distance between us in one powerful stride and a shiver ghosted through me. His eyes that locked on me were heartless. Invasive. Blue.

The moment stretched, stealing what little breath of air I’d managed from my lungs.

Just the idea of being this close to the man we were about to rob sent every nerve ending in my body tingling in expectation. I sensed danger, and I wondered how long it would be before my friends came looking for me.

Another step and I was cornered, his woodsy oak scent wrapping around me. His body singed as it brushed against mine, the heat powerful and impossible to ignore. My limbs felt heavy and light all at once, my skin buzzing like a live wire.

“I’m not alone.”

I swallowed when he remained quiet. He was the tallest man I’d ever seen in real life, his blond hair a halo framing his face. Except there was something dark and unhinged in his blue eyes, and I found myself unable to look away. That full mouth of his probably had ladies falling at his feet, and judging by his smirk, he knew it.

His gaze ran down my bare legs like ice melting on my heated skin and he chuckled, making my cheeks flame with heat.

“You enjoying yourself, angel?” His voice was an elusive timbre, each word twined with an abrasive edge. It was sinful, inviting erotic images into my mind. The kind that you kept locked in the pits of your soul. I averted my gaze a little too quickly, making it painfully obvious that I’d been staring. “Don’t be shy… I find myself quite fascinated by you too.”

He touched my red locks and curled one around his finger.

“I wasn’t… I’m sorry,” I said with a shake of my head, then immediately winced. His grip tightened, and I wondered what it would feel like if he tugged. “I need to go.”

It was like a magnetic field surrounded us, leaving us alone in the darkened hallway while hordes of people mingled only a few feet away. He was brimming with raw sexuality and masculinity, his presence inescapable, leaving me frazzled. Everything about him warned me to run away, yet my body refused to move and my pussy chose that moment to clench with need.

“Not so fast,” he said, his voice low as he bent his head, bringing his mouth closer to my ear. “We should explore this.”

I blinked, suddenly turned on like never before. “Explore what?”

“This.” He nipped my earlobe and every thought I had withered away. Oh, dear God. This wasn’t part of the plan. “You want it too.”

I swallowed, shaking my head. We couldn’t do this. He, of all people, was not on the agenda tonight.

“I don’t think that’s wise,” I whispered.

“Then tell me to stop,” he said, his voice dropping another octave. He placed a hand on my hip and my skin bloomed with heat. “You aren’t even real, are you? An angel would never tempt the devil.”

Both hands on my hips now, he pulled me closer to him, our bodies flush.

“I’m not… tempting anyone,” I rasped. I couldn’t let this man touch me—I had to put a stop to it. And yet… my body leaned closer to his, light drawn to darkness.

“You can’t deny it, but something tells me you know that all too well.”

“I don’t even know your name,” I protested, but my voice was so quiet it was barely audible. Yes, Wynter had briefed me on this man, but “Priest” couldn’t possibly be his real name. “This is wrong.”

“Forget about right and wrong,” he commanded, ignoring my feeble reasoning. I nodded, almost as if in a trance. “Now look at me.”

I lifted my head, staring up at him. His pupils were so wide, the blue hue of his eyes almost swallowed by the black. But it was the longing in his gaze that captivated me.

I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, but no words came out. All I could focus on were his strong fingers flexing on my hips. My core contracted, flooding with heat and making me suck in a stuttered breath.

I licked my lips, every cell in my body vibrating with sexual energy. I didn’t know what it was about this man, but I wanted his hands on me, his fingers inside me. Just this once, I wanted to do something wild and reckless and let this gorgeous stranger ravish me and relieve this aching need.

“Now what?” I breathed out.

The man locked eyes with me as he trailed his hand up my thigh.

“Now I make you come,” he grunted, his fingers reaching my panties and effortlessly sliding inside the flimsy fabric.

The music pumped, matching the anticipation buzzing through my veins. I wanted to touch him, rake my hands through his hair to steady myself as he slid his fingers through my folds, but intuition warned me he wouldn’t like it.

So instead, I kept my thoughts away from my friends and tonight’s mission, picturing eyes on us and being thrilled by it.

“Soaking wet already,” he growled with a smirk.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” I told him, hoping he couldn’t read the shock of it on my face. This never happened to me.

“So feisty.” He let out a dark chuckle and circled my swollen clit with the pad of his middle finger, applying the perfect amount of pressure.

“Fuck,” I breathed, my hands curling into fists and my knuckles turning white.

His lips pressed against my ear, his hot breath doing things to me. “An angel with the mouth of a sinner. I like that.”

His lips skimmed down my neck, trailing a burning path over my sensitive skin as he dipped his hand further into my panties, pulling them down. Then he knocked my legs wider apart as he slid a finger inside me, easing in and out.

I bit my lip to stop from moaning or begging him for more. My hands flew to his hair, scraping my nails over his scalp. For a moment he stiffened, but I was too far gone to take note.

“Oh, fuck…” I moaned, gripping his short blond strands. “If you stop, I swear I’m going to murder you.”

He groaned low in his throat, adding another finger, then resumed thrusting his fingers, my slick pussy dripping, coating my inner thighs. He nipped my neck and heat erupted inside of me, liquefying in my veins.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled. “You’re not a virgin, are you?”

A wave of nervousness rushed in. I didn’t want him to stop, and I definitely didn’t want to be honest.

“You wish,” I whimpered.

“Actually I don’t.”

There was a harsh edge to his voice, but there was so much lust in my veins I couldn’t read between the lines. I rolled my hips, rubbing myself against him as he drove his fingers deeper, hitting my G-spot.

“Holy mother of fucking God.” I clung to him, the sound of my arousal as he worked them in and out of me somehow audible over the din of the nightclub.

He lifted his head. A storm brewed behind his eyes, making me think he was about to stop. His lips curled into an arrogant, harsh smile. “I promise you, angel, God has nothing to do with this. By the time I’m done with you, we’ll both get our salvation.”

I found his words strange, but before I could ponder on it, he fell to his knees and dipped his head between my legs, licking me from my entrance to my clit. His growl of satisfaction shot straight up my spine and he ran a rough hand down my leg, hooking my thigh over his shoulder.

The move was obscene—him kneeling in front of me like I was a goddess and not a total stranger, the heady anticipation of being discovered here… It was all too much.

I ran my fingers through his hair and he pushed his tongue inside me. In and out. In and out. My back arched off the wall and my eyes rolled back in my head. He worked me like he’d known me for years.

I moved my hips as the familiar wave built, the pleasure rolling through my core. He nipped at my clit, then smacked me between the legs, and something dark crawled up from deep inside me. A fierce passion that had never reared its head before.

His blue gaze hooked on mine as he sucked at my clit, still throbbing deliciously, and the pressure finally exploded. I came so hard my ears rang, pulling all other sounds of the club underwater.

I closed my eyes, struggling to catch my breath as a languid sensation tugged on my muscles. My thighs trembled, and a peace unlike any I’d felt before washed over me.

He spoke, but the words didn’t register. My eyes fluttered open to find him still on his knees, his eyes on me. My thighs were still trembling when the DJ stopped the music and spoke into the mic, piercing through the fog of pleasure.

“Will the owner of the red Jeep Wrangler please move their vehicle?”

I gasped, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. I turned on my heel and bolted away. I’d hear the rough chuckle that followed me for many months to come.