Veiled Silence (Dark & Silent Night #2)

Prologue

Amiable.

Guileless.

Na?ve.

Innocent.

Soft.

Malleable.

Vulnerable.

All things that made the woman sitting at a table across the room the best candidate for what he’d come to this “Singles in Business” gala looking for.

A wife.

A womb for his legitimate heir.

A convenience he could use, then set aside when she wasn’t needed.

And he would use her; she was a tool, a means to an end. A body and a brain, and little else.

He wanted nothing else from her.

She was pretty enough with her curly, shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair, and big, doe-like brown eyes.

Her smile was a little lopsided, and one of her incisors was crooked, but he supposed that added character to an otherwise plain face.

She wasn’t slim, not like the women he usually favored, but he didn’t mind curves in the right places.

She had plump tits, wide hips, and long legs.

She had enough meat on her bones that breeding her shouldn’t cause any health scares.

She spoke softly, blushed prettily, didn’t slouch or talk with her hands, and she always seemed to think before she answered, like she sincerely wanted everything she said to mean something.

Quiet. Polite. Thoughtful. And she was in perfect health—at least that’s what her medical records said.

According to the dossier his younger brother, Logan, had sent him via encrypted link on his cell, Kendra Little was twenty-five years old, a community college grad with a bachelor’s in literature, and she made her living writing children’s books.

Apparently, her books were quite popular, enough that she met the applicant income threshold to even be invited to the gala, which catered to singles with at least six zeros in the bank; in order to even get a glance, you had to make over $500,000 per year.

That was in median monthly income, so he laughed at that stipulation, but for a single 25-year-old community college graduate, that was Scrooge McDuck money.

The gala hostess spoke into the mic, reminding people there were hor d'oeuvres and cocktails for them to enjoy, her tone too cheery, too forced, and it grated against his already strung-taut nerves.

He fought the urge to walk the fuck out of there, but he held fast. He was too close to getting what he’d been suffering all night for.

Typically, he never attended such ridiculous dog and pony shows, where people came to see, be seen, with the potential for a hook up or three.

He’d gotten many invitations over the years, and he’d burned them all, but this time…

he’d hesitated, his brother Adrian’s words from months before echoing in his ears.

“You work like a fucking dog, Gid. It’s a shame you can’t take it with you when you die.”

That had struck him harder than he’d ever expected, because it was true.

He worked tirelessly to build the Maddox empire for him and his brothers, but his brothers now had their own empires to build.

And the thought of all he’d built, poured his blood, sweat, and fucking marrow into going to someone else…

someone wholly unworthy of the honor, was like acid in his veins.

He’d be damned if someone without the Maddox name got their hands on all he’d accomplished.

So…he’d accepted the invitation to the Singles in Business Gala, his singular goal: to find a wife and mother of his heir.

Honestly, he’d expected to fail; there was no one on Earth who could possibly check every box on his list of what he wanted in the future Mrs. Maddox.

But he’d been wrong.

His gaze flicked to her once more, watching her as she spoke with the gray-haired woman beside her.

Kendra Little had no family, was raised in group homes until she turned 18, and headed to college on a scholarship provided by the state through their children and youth programs.

A text pinged from the cell in his suitcoat pocket. Retrieving it, he saw it was a message from his brother.

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear….

MadLo: Is she my sister-in-law yet?

Gideon heaved a sigh, annoyed. He never should have told Logan his plan, but he’d needed the genius hacker’s help for what he’d intended. There wasn’t a person alive who could get him detailed background information on his potential wives faster than Logan.

BigMad: I only just finished reading through the information you sent.

Logan’s response was immediate, and Gideon nearly rolled his eyes at the new screen name Logan had given him.

The little shit enjoyed hacking his devices to change settings whenever he felt slighted.

And he let Logan do it, to have his fun, because getting on the wrong side of the Maddox brother who could literally erase everything about you was never a good idea. Even for family.

MadLo: You wouldn’t have asked about her if you weren’t already thinking about it. Come on, Gid. Everyone knows you don’t bother with bullshit.

Indeed.

Throwing a quick glance to the woman sitting across the room once more, he noticed she was looking at him. When their gazes collided, he could see her gasp, her attention trapped on him…as he was focused on her.

His prey.

The future Mrs. Maddox.

From inside him, something he kept chained and buried deep—a dark and hungry something—jerked awake, slithering, creeping, silent yet unwavering in its purpose.

He tensed, shocked at the intensity of the gnawing, aching ferality.

The urge to conquer, to claim, to brand was a living, breathing beast inside him, one he only ever unleashed to ravage and consume business rivals.

He was known for his cold ruthlessness, his calculated savagery, and many respected him for it.

Many gave him wide berth. And many, typically women, looked upon him like something they dared to tame.

Fools.

No one could satiate the monster inside him—one formed from ice and pain. Not even him. It took everything to keep it locked away when he wasn’t at the negotiating table, and usually he succeeded in keeping it restrained…or at least well fed on the blood of those he ravaged in the boardroom.

But today…its jaws snapped and salivated for something else.

Someone.

It wanted to gnaw on her, chewing slowly to savor every inch of flesh, every bone—right down to the pit of her soul…where it would consume that, too.

Though the woman beside her was still speaking, Kendra didn’t look away from him, almost as if she were being pulled toward him, unable to shift even a millimeter to break eye contact. As though a force neither of them could control was holding them in place.

Gravitational.

He could feel the heat of her gaze brushing against him—even through his $5,000 handmade Italian suitcoat.

Forcing himself to tear his gaze from hers, he replied to Logan.

BigMad: It will be done by end of Q3.

Which was only two months away. He’d have a ring on her finger, her name next to his on the marriage certificate, and her bouncing on his cock—raw—before the end of the financial quarter.

MadLo: You’re either overestimating your skills or you’re underestimating her.

Gideon smirked at that. He was doing neither.

He met her gaze once more, keeping his smirk in place, allowing her to see a sliver of the man he was beneath.

Like a morsel of the most delicious bait, something a woman like her—single, plain, and insecure—would snatch at with eager, grasping hands.

He knew exactly what he was doing; hunting. And he’d caught his little bunny rabbit in his trap.

As she finally tore her gaze from his to press a gentle hand against the other woman’s shoulder, Gideon knew he’d made the right choice.

MadLo: Are you going to romance her or just go in like the Mad Shark, all contracts and referendums and NDAs?

Initially, Gideon had considered hiring someone to be a surrogate, carrying his heir until it was born and then nannies could care for it. But then he considered how that would look to shareholders, clients, and even the well-connected and dangerous VIPs he worked for who were all about “family.”

So, he decided that a contract marriage would work better.

There’d be no emotional mess involved, and both parties would get what they wanted—he’d get an heir, and his partner would get access to billions of dollars and the luxurious lifestyle that came with being the wife of one of the most powerful and wealthy men in the US.

One look at Kendra Little, though, and he knew that contracts and referendums and NDAs wouldn’t get him to the altar as fast as a smile, a few charming words, and a few candlelight dinners would.

From the info Logan gathered, Gideon could read her like a book—the woman was a romantic; literature degree, thousands of romances in her Kindle library, hundreds of romantic comedies in her streaming history, and several slightly used dating apps on her phone all told him that she wanted the hearts in her eyes before she’d ever sign on the dotted line.

Which only made things easier for him.

BigMad: I’ll charm her. She’s easy.

Immediately, Logan replied.

MadLo: It’s never that easy.

Fuck, but that asshole was right.

Too bad it would take him losing her to figure that out….