Chapter 40 After the Fire
The texts glare at me.
Sir Tao
What have you done, son? Never bite the hand that feeds you. Haven’t I taught you anything?
The siheyuan is in chaos. Whatever you do, don’t come back until I call for you. I’ll do damage control.
Pressure gathers beneath my transplant scar. I can only imagine the ruckus with Cornelius dead and Si Shen missing. Sir Tao is in retirement. This isn’t his mess to clean up.
Or to protect me.
Gritting my teeth, I punch in a short reply.
Ren
I’m sorry. I’ve disappointed you.
“Updates from the siheyuan?” Elias asks from his chair.
A few of us are sequestered in his office to discuss next steps while Aria meets with her girls in the library upstairs.
“Sir Tao. He still wants to protect me.” I click off my phone, grab the tumbler of whiskey, and down it in a gulp.
“Honor among thieves, who knew?” Tristan leans forward in his spot on the sofa.
“He was like a second father after my own died.”
Because of the bastard.
I wish I could kill him again.
“Any news from The Council?” Tristan turns to Elias. “The FBI’s scrambling. The Kongs going down was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Still, it destabilizes The Association, which isn’t good for us in the short run.”
I snort. “If Sofia were here, she’d have something to say to you about that.”
“The hellcat,” he growls, then glances at Elias, “no offense.”
“None taken. Being a hellcat is a strength in our world.” Elias smirks. “And I agree with her. Your bureau thrives on crime. Or you’d be out of a job.”
“Not the bureau I thought I signed up for,” Tristan mutters.
“You’re risking a lot by joining our cause,” I say. “I want to know why. Trust goes both ways.”
What secrets is the fed hiding?
Tristan holds my stare as something dark flashes across his eyes. Then he turns away. “You’ll just have to take a leap of faith because my reasons are my own.”
Click.
My attention snaps to Elias, who’s watching our exchange with a knowing smile—one that tells me he has all the answers—all the while flicking his lighter.
“What?” Tristan snaps.
“Just saying.” Elias arches his brow. “Revenge is an excellent motivator. I know that better than anyone else. But you’re stronger as a team than alone.”
He closes his lighter, his next words quiet. “I think Allie would want that. And little Summer.”
Tristan shoots to his feet, his face reddening. “You know nothing, Kent.”
“I know enough. And I sympathize.”
The tension stretches taut for a few seconds. Elias pours more whiskey into Tristan’s tumbler and offers it to him. “We’ll help you get your revenge.”
The fed sits back down and loosens his tie. He chugs his drink and says, “Did the others get what they needed?”
“Sebastian found Ren’s mom’s insurance policy—the Kongs were behind it. He’s sifting through other contracts linking the organ trafficking proceeds to the family through a series of shell companies,” Elias says.
“Enough evidence that the rest of The Association won’t want them to be part of The Council anymore?” I ask.
Elias nods. “The four remaining families are quaking in their boots. Gabriel Caruso has been calling my cell nonstop, but he’ll have to wait.”
Sick satisfaction twists through me. This is what we all joined The Antihero Syndicate for—to take down every last one of them.
“What about the organ trafficking ring?” Tristan asks.
“Aleksei got through the firewalls with the help of the bug we planted on Cornelius’s computer. He’s going through the organ donor database as we speak.” Elias looks at me. “No guarantees, but at a minimum, we’re now in control of the damn machine.”
“Will you shut it off?” I think of Celia and others like her, languishing on an arbitrary waitlist while others are preying on unsuspecting victims and offering their organs to the highest bidder.
“What do you think I should do, Ren?”
Something in Elias’s tone gives me pause. Quiet amusement. Like he’s testing me.
“Shut it off, and innocents die waiting,” I say. “Leave it untouched, and monsters profit. So no, we adjust the machine.” Organ donations from healthy bastards like Cornelius.
I scan Elias’s face—his calm, green eyes not giving anything away, the long scar on his cheek the only thing hinting at a darker past.
The small smile.
Sick bastard.
“And that’s why we’re friends,” he murmurs.
“What the hell is the plan? Is the machine on or off?” Tristan demands.
“Plausible deniability, Special Agent,” I say. “But let’s say Si Shen and others like me won’t be out of work anytime soon.”
His eyes widen and he opens his mouth—
I hold up my hand. “You don’t know anything. All you’ll see are bad guys suddenly disappearing, making the world a safer place. And innocent lives will be saved by a broken system.”
“Cheers to another successful operation.” Elias raises his glass. A befuddled Tristan scoffs and follows suit.
“Now we wait until the smoke blows over.” I clink my glass with theirs. “Then Aria can get her life back.”
Warmth sweeps through me. I imagine walking hand-in-hand with her in public, going to the movies, picking her up from the hospital after her shift.
Normal.
The kind of life I was never built for, but want anyway.
I ignore the thread of unease winding around my lungs.
Closing my eyes, I let the hot water wash over me as I rinse the shampoo out of my hair.
Scarlett and Sofia visited earlier. Lana had their chef lay out a fancy afternoon tea for us in their gorgeous library with tall ceilings, gold-tipped moldings, and rows and rows of bookshelves.
With the variety of roses perfuming the space, I almost forgot this was the king of the underworld’s home. Sofia told me to stay put for a little while longer. With Cornelius Kong dead and his Triads in disarray, there were bigger fish to fry, and I should be safe soon.
Rachel from work called, grilling me about Ren and my abrupt absence. I told her a family emergency came up, and I’d be out of town for a few weeks.
I should feel good about everything.
We’re alive. Celia is stabilized in the hospital. We’re still on the hunt for the right donor as the ICU patient fights for her life.
I’m rooting for them, hoping it’ll somehow work out in the end.
But I can’t help but think this is all too…easy.
Will the Triads, once they regroup, let Ren go? Obviously, they know he has something to do with Cornelius’s death. Will Ren go back to his life of killing?
With the questions swirling loudly in my mind, I don’t quite hear the shower door opening until a heated presence brands my back.
I flinch. I scrub the soap from my face so that I can open my eyes.
“Keep them close.” Ren’s low rasp scrapes down my body.
Soft lips meet my neck. Quick, hard suctions. A sultry lick.
I moan, melting against his naked frame as the water pelts against my front.
“Do you know you have the most perfect shade of nipples? Not quite pink. Not really brown. And they bead into perfect little peaks when you’re turned on.”
He pinches them as if to demonstrate.
“Ren,” I moan.
Flicking the tips, he grinds his front against me, dragging that hard length between the valleys of my ass.
“Someday I’ll take you here.” His velvety head nudges my puckered rosebud. “You liked it last time, didn’t you? The knife hilt in your ass?”
“Yes,” I whimper, remembering how good it felt to be double-penetrated.
A growl rumbles out of him as he fists my swollen breasts and rakes his teeth against my neck. The sharp pain sets off a cascade of wetness between my legs.
“Fuck. You’re hot for it, aren’t you?” Ren pushes me forward.
My eyes snap open when cold glass meets my tits.
He has me pinned against one of the glass shower walls.
Swiping away the moisture on the pane, he lowers his lips to my ear.
“Look at us, Aria. A killer corrupting a healer.” He pinches my nipple, then flicks it. “But you’re a bad girl, right? You want to be corrupted.”
His hands slowly travel down my body before palming my pussy. “Messy. Fucking soaked. My bad girl.”
My eyes shut when he flicks my clit, then drags a finger through my folds, playing with the moisture slicking my entrance.
Smack.
I gasp. My eyes fly open, meeting his through the mirror across from the shower.
“Eyes on me. Watch Reaper fuck you. Put every single inch of his cock inside you.” A dangerous smirk tilts his lips as he pushes my shoulders down so my ass is arched up, breasts pressed against the glass. “Watch your pussy squirt around my cock.”
“Yes. Oh, shit. Please.” Lusty moans mingle with whimpers as he drags his hard dick between my legs, rubbing it to the rhythm of my hips.
My pussy pulses, needy and achy. I reach down, trying to grab his tip and put it inside me—
“No.” He shackles both wrists and pins them at the base of my spine. “You’re going to take what I give you. Only when I give it to you.”
“Ren, please fuck me!”
A dark chuckle echoes over the pelting water. Dense fog swirls in the air as he swipes the glass again, making sure I can see what’s happening to us.
“That’s right. Beg.”
He drives in to the hilt.
I scream as pain morphs into pleasure. He’s so big. Too big.
Ren doesn’t give me time to adjust. With one hand pinning my wrists, his other hand fists my hair, angling my head back, then crushes his lips to mine.
I meet him kiss for kiss, grappling with his tongue, nipping with my teeth.
His hips pummel, cock thrusting in a loud rhythm I swear can be heard elsewhere in this mansion.
But I don’t care.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” I chant, my muscles stiffening, my body shaking at the force of his fucking slamming me against the glass in a staccato rhythm.
“Look.” Ren nips my earlobe. “Eyes on the mirror. Look at your tits smashing against the wall. Those slutty nipples. You feel so good, taking all my inches.”
A ragged grunt tears out of him, and he shifts, getting deeper inside me. The smacks of our bodies sound obscene. Lusty cries fill the shower—sounds I didn’t know I could make.
“Your tight little pussy is swallowing me. Shit!”
Everything sharpens and condenses deep inside my core. My eyes are open, but barely seeing. I’m not in control of my body as my mind goes white with pleasure.
“Ren,” I slur. He jerks me harder against him. “Do you like my hot little pussy? My swollen tits? My body for your use?”
“Fuck!” he roars, his dick lengthening and thickening.
I’m full. So full.
“I want your cum. I need it. Please give me your cum,” I whine, staring at our reflection, not recognizing the woman with the glazed eyes and swollen lips, her tits slapping against glass, being so well used by a towering, muscular man behind her.
He jerks my chin to the side and slams his lips against mine.
“Oh, I’ll give you my fucking cum. I’ll give you everything,” he rasps against my mouth.
“Every ounce of my soul.” His hand slides down my body.
“Every minute of my future.” He cups my pussy, massaging it while he fucks me harder.
“Every fucking drop of blood I spill.” He inserts his finger inside my pussy, stretching me impossibly more. “Every kill. All of it…yours.”
An earthquake shatters me from the inside out, and a cry tears from my lungs.
Wetness streams out of me. My legs give, but he gives me no break, no mercy.
He presses me flush against the wall, moving his finger in tandem with his throbbing cock as more wetness sluices out of me in uncontrollable streams.
“Fuuuck. You’re a squirter,” he grunts.
I tremble as the ecstasy deepens, taking over every inch of my body. I’ve never squirted before. I’ve never experienced this obliterating high.
Then I feel it, the hot splash of his cum bathing my insides.
My ears ring. Mouth dries. Every inch of me is tortured by bliss and fire.
It’s perfect. Unreal. Fucked up.
I won’t have it any other way.
The orgasm stretches. Unending. My body quakes from aftershocks.
Time slows as he presses heated kisses on my lips, face, and ears.
“I love you so much,” he whispers moments later, his beautiful brown eyes pinning mine.
Sated and drowsy, I mumble, “I love you, Ren.”
A brilliant smile flashes across his face, stealing what little oxygen I have left.
With his semi-hard cock inside me, he reaches for the conditioner, then spreads it onto my hair, massaging it through the strands.
Then, he moves us back under the spray, carefully bathing me, loving me.
Keeping the monsters outside at bay.
I’m on a strange high as we waltz out of the bathroom later, wrapped in thick robes.
I imagine what our future will look like.
Late night movies at home. Quiet Sunday mornings in his cabin. A chess game or two. Sultry lovemaking or hard fucking to follow.
He’s an assassin. He’s with The Syndicate. He’ll be doing things I don’t approve of.
Unconventional, yes. But perfect for us.
“I love your smile,” he says as he towels his hair.
“I love yours more.”
He laughs, then grabs my hand. Like before, he strokes my palm—sure slides, gentle motions.
“What are you writing? You’ve done this so many times before.”
Gaze softening, he yanks me until I’m pressed against his chest again.
“An. 安. Peace. Safety in Chinese. That’s my promise to you,” he murmurs. He writes another character on my palm. “And this is ai. 愛. Love. Because I’ll always love you.”
He kisses me again, and tears pool in my eyes.
My phone pings.
I groan. Someone’s trying to reach me. Is it Scarlett? Did she forget something?
Reluctantly, I untangle myself from Ren, walk to the nightstand, and pick up my cell.
A new email awaits me.
To: thebookishnurse@
From: sunflowersandhearts@
Subject: You forgot about me.
I don’t blame you. I had things to take care of. Problems to solve.
Hope it isn’t too late to win you back.
Everything will make sense soon.
Remember, I’m the sunshine to your gloom.
Not him. Never him.
“What, Aria?” Ren rushes over and takes my phone from my hand.
I’m shaking. The earlier warmth evaporates as I reread the words I see clearly in my mind.
Remember, I’m the sunshine to your gloom.
“Oh my God.” I tremble.
The sunflower gifts. The cryptic email before. The hidden key in my tattoo I wasn’t aware of until recently.
But how is it possible? I held him in my arms as he bled out. Felt his stiff body in the morgue.
“Blake. This is him, isn’t it?” Ren’s face darkens, his eyes sharpening, his emotions clear as day.
Concern. Fear. Anger. And more.
“He’s not dead,” I whisper. “H-How?”