Chapter 4
FOUR
OWEN
EIGHT WEEKS LATER …
T he day she walked away from me was the day I made it my mission to uncover everything there was to know about the prick she calls a husband. Now staring at the information gathered on the screen, anger overflows my veins, pumping through me so strongly that it might rupture my flesh.
I will it to happen, welcoming the bleed out. Knowing she’s starting a life without me, the life we should have had, pains me more than any physical pain you could endure. It guts me and poisons every cell inside me.
The piece of shit staring back at me on the screen is Carlos Andreas from Mexico. At thirty-eight years old, he’s far too old for her, far more dangerous too, and the husband to the woman I love.
My eyes flick over the information I’ve already memorized, to drive me on my quest for happiness.
His best friend is Nico Garcia, head of a cartel family in Mexico, a known drug lord, and a piece of shit whose family has been linked to human trafficking.
Over my dead fucking body will I let this scum steal what’s mine.
She might be pregnant with his biological baby, but that baby belongs to me. They’re my family, and nothing will stop me from taking what’s mine.
Not Laya.
Not Tate.
And sure as hell not Carlos Andreas.
I’ll spill blood if I have to. I’ll revel in it, even.
But I will have my family.
Laya and our baby will be mine.
I lift my phone and scroll through until I get to the name I want—Reece O’Connell. He’s part of the O’Connell Mafia family, a good kid, a child genius, actually, with a mind full of knowledge at the family’s disposal that makes him both useful and dangerous.
But there’s a connection that Reece O’Connell has with Nico Garcia, his former would-be stepfather. Nico killed Reece’s unborn sibling, forcing Reece and his mom to run and relocate under new names.
I know Reece has reconnected with Nico, something his father may not be aware of. Information I intend to use to my advantage because I’ll do anything to get my girl back.
Anything.
“What the fuck do you want, Owen?”
I chuckle at the little shit’s manners. He really does not give a fuck how he speaks to anyone. “I need a favor.”
He grunts noncommittally.
“You owe me,” I clarify, and he knows I’m referring to the shitshow that went down at his family’s wedding, where he assisted with the escape of Luca Varros’s wife.
“So I’ll ask you again, what do you want? I have shit to do.” His voice is sterner this time, and I shake my head at his attitude.
“Nico Garcia.”
He grumbles something under his breath, then groans. “You want me to have him killed? You know I owe him too, right?” I know he owes Nico. I’m sure Nico won’t let him forget it either. But the little shit is as valuable as the debts he owes and uses that knowledge to his family’s gain.
“I don’t want you to kill him.” I hear the whoosh of air escape him. “He has a close friend I want a meeting with.”
A loud chuckle erupts from him, and I pull my phone away from my ringing ear and glare at it.
“You want the girl back, right?” My pulse races and the vein on my temple thrums. Of course he knows about Laya; Reece O’Connell makes it his business to know about everyone, and it’s times like this I’m grateful for it.
“I do,” I confirm, hating the way my heart thunders against my chest at letting someone know my plans.
He balks, and I want to reach down the phone and wring the little shit’s neck. “Reece,” I warn in a tone that would normally make a grown man piss themselves.
He chuckles. “Lighten up, man.”
Lighten up? Is he fucking serious? My girl is knocked up with another man’s child and married to the fucker.
My head throbs, and I rub over the vein protruding along my neck. “For fuck’s sake,” I grunt as despair washes through me at how difficult Reece can be to work with.
He sighs heavily. “I’ll have him call you later.”
Surprise floods me, but before I can thank him, he hangs up, leaving me staring at the phone and asking myself if it was really as easy as that?
As relief filters through my body and my plan slips into place, I sit back in my chair, contemplating what I discovered on Laya’s Pinterest account and all the work I have to do to help her realize this is for the best.
She will have everything she’s ever wanted.
And me?
I will finally have her.
M y office door is thrown open, and my thoughts are interrupted. Mase, Tate, and Shaw stroll in and throw themselves onto the chairs.
It’s Friday, the day we have our meetings to establish all the shit we’ve dealt with during the week and what needs to be done within the business to prepare for Monday.
“So, thirsty Thursday is pointless now, right?” Tate asks as I turn my head in his direction.
When my best friends started this dumb bet to see who could get a blowjob every Thursday night, I never imagined the lengths I would have to go through to make it seem like I was actually participating. The truth of the matter is, my cock refuses to get hard for anyone but her, and imagining someone as her is not even an option. I simply don’t want to. The fact I’ve been celibate since I took her virginity is my penance.
I lift a shoulder, not acknowledging his statement.
“Well, me and Shaw are off the market. Mase doesn’t get any, so it’s between you and Reed. Pretty sure Reed is winning.” He grins toward me, and I smirk back. Happy to let him believe I’m out of the equation. We all know Reed needs more than one woman to satisfy him, whereas Mase, who is married, has been trying for years to have sex with his wife despite her openly cheating on him. Poor dude realizes they need to divorce, but she keeps on trying to win him over because he’s worth a fortune. The bitch has tried to get with me multiple times, Tate and Shaw too. She probably realizes she wouldn’t be enough for Reed, so he assures us she’s never attempted him.
“Can we cut the crap? I need to get home early,” Shaw grunts out. Since the self-proclaimed playboy married the Mafia princess because of knocking her up, he’s obsessed with playing house, and who could blame him? I intend on doing just that with Laya.
“I’ve reached out to a contact in LA. I’m thinking we should be expanding and creating another branch there,” Mase throws out, but I don’t so much as blink.
My home is here.
And hers will be too.
“We should?” Shaw leans forward with eagerness in his eyes. “I mean, it sounds great. Perfect excuse to get away from Luca.” His brother-in-law, Luca Varros of the Varros Mafia, would never let his little sister move away, but I don’t voice my opinion. Poor guy needs some hope in his marriage.
“How’s things on your end?” Tate scans my face.
None of my best friends have anything to do with my side of the business, and I choose to keep them and their questions at bay. It’s not their expertise. I simply needed the backers to make the security business work. STORM Enterprises created the perfect cover for me. They know that as well as I do.
“Fine.” I shrug.
“No news?” He’s referring to Laya, and when I stare back at him, hope flickers in his eyes that I’m about to extinguish.
I swallow. “Not yet.”
His shoulders sag, and I hate the defeat behind the action, but I don’t have time to think on it because the door swings open and in strolls Reed, a beaming smile on his face that has our eyes darting to one another in question.
Our normally impassive, stoic-faced friend has been replaced with someone who looks like he swallowed a rainbow and shit out a unicorn.
His smile only grows wider when he lets out a heavy sigh as he takes his seat.
A gold unicorn, for sure.
“What the hell happened to you?” Tate studies him.
“The deal with Fanzio go well, then?” Mase asks with a grin rivaling Reed’s.
George Fanzio, a billionaire property mogul, has been dangling the prospect of Reed signing off on some land in bumfuck nowhere for a while now, and Reed has been like a bitch in heat desperate to sign off on the deal that will have George handing over a portion of his empire.
I’m not entirely sure how it will work, but I know Reed, being the best lawyer out there, will oversee it to perfection, as always.
Reed’s eyes narrow. “Actually, it went to shit.”
I sit forward.
Shaw’s gaze ping-pongs between ours and Reed’s. “Well, why didn’t you start with that, and why are you so happy when you wanted this deal for so long?”
Reed swats his words away like he’s hitting a bug, and I chuckle.
He sits back, crosses his arms over his chest with a huge smile on his well-put-together self, then opens his mouth and shocks the hell out of us all. “I’m in love.”
“What the fuck?” Tate chokes on his coffee, and our mouths fall open as he spills the rest of his drink over his shirt.
I shake my head. Such a dumbass.
“Holy shit, that burns.” Before I know what’s happening, he’s unbuttoning his shirt, and I laugh at his frantic state. “Fucking Jesus. Do I need the ER or something?” He points to his bare chest, which is slightly red.
I point toward Tate’s vacated seat. “Sit the fuck down, you wuss, and grow up. I need to hear this.”
He grumbles before taking his seat. “I need a cold compress.”
I’m tempted to throw my cup of water at him to get him to shut the hell up.
“The deal went to shit. He’s not in a position to move forward yet, yadda, yadda, yadda.”
Reed rolls his eyes as he tells us about his meeting. “So I go to the bar to drown in my misery.” I nod along. “Then this woman sits down at my table.”
“Gold digger!” Shaw barks. “She has to be a gold digger. No woman sits down at your table without intent.”
“Oh, she had intent, all right.” Reed smirks as we all listen raptly. “Intent on riding my cock until it was raw.”
Mase snorts and I chuckle.
“So you fucked a gold digger. What’s new? Why are you in love?” Shaw lifts his shoulder.
Reed shakes his head. “She wasn’t a gold digger. Trust me, I know. She was a businesswoman. Had the hot-as-hell business attire on and a briefcase. A lawyer, actually.” He smiles as if proud he bagged a fellow lawyer, and I want to roll my eyes.
“So you fucked one woman?” Mase asks, as if confused.
“I did. One!” He holds his finger up. “Best night of my life.”
Tate lifts his head from surveying his chest. “When are we meeting this woman that managed to break you?”
Reed throws his head back on a heavy groan before bringing it back to face me. “Here’s the thing… I didn’t get her name or number.”
Tate gasps. “What?”
“I know.” Reed rubs at his forehead. “I fucked up. She said no strings, and I was good with that. I didn’t expect that”—he motions toward the door—“she’d blow my fucking mind, and I’ve no idea who she is.” His eyes meet mine again as realization sets in. He wants me to find her.
“Oh, no you fucking don’t. Owen has enough shit to deal with, like my sister. Oh, and he needs to do his fucking job. Not hunt down women that don’t want a repeat of you,” Tate snaps.
Reed’s eyes narrow. “You don’t think she wants a repeat of me?”
A scoff rumbles from Shaw. “She didn’t leave her name or number. Pretty sure it’s self-explanatory.”
A pang of guilt hits me when Reed’s face falls, then he clears his throat. “Not like there aren’t a billion other women in the world falling at my feet.” He shrugs and plasters on a fake smile.
When all this is over, I’ll hunt down this woman. Then it’s up to him to pursue her.
In my experience, if they don’t want to be found, there’s a good reason for it. They’re hiding something.