Pitiful Lies (Jersey Bad Boys #3)

Prologue One-Angel

PROLOGUE ONE-ANGEL

E arly Summer

Anticipation is something a lot of guys discount, but it’s kept me alive for forty-two years.

Some people think a lifestyle like mine is part act, and they aren’t wrong. There is something to say about being the Enforcer to the most powerful criminal organization in town and showmanship.

But if this is an act, then I am always on .

I don’t wear a costume. All of this is me. And it is real.

My height.

My bulk.

My ink.

The metal in my ears.

And the weapons strategically concealed around my body.

I sit in the shadows, a tightly coiled serpent, waiting to strike at anyone who comes into my house with ill intent.

The Vipers’ Den is our place.

It is dark and loud. A little pretentious, and one of the most sought after night spots in the tri-state.

A nightclub and bar, it’s the perfect cover for a syndicate like ours. Nico, Luc, and I run the Vipers, and this is our base of operations.

We each have offices in the basement, and like any good snake pit there are hallways and secret passages that serve our needs well.

We run a tight organization with Nico as our king. He’s my real cousin, but me, him, and Luc are all blood brothers. We’ve each put in enough blood, sweat, and tears to make this thing ours.

I don’t mind having a king. A snake needs one head to lead, and Nico is perfect for the job. Luc is all brains, and his team of lawyers keeps us solid. I’m the guy in charge of all security, and I’ve spent the last few weeks increasing our fucking numbers.

This feeling I have, it’s been building. I don’t know what it is, but something is happening.

The atmosphere is ripe with expectation.

Like some shit is about to go down.

But I’m ready. I am always ready. I have to be.

The DJ is spinning some shit with a heavy bass, but I’m not really paying attention to the song.

Things are getting tense. But Nico’s mind isn’t where it should be.

Oh, I know where it is. Ever since I brought that cute little baker girl here to clear her brother’s debts, a part of him has been MIA.

It’s none of my fucking business. Nobody else’s, either.

Nico, Luc, and I built this thing up from the ground when we were still wet behind the ears.

Nico is the king because he fucking earned it.

I don’t want the crown.

I never did.

I am happy right where I am. Doing what I do best. Cracking skulls and putting the fear of God in those who are too stupid to know they shouldn’t fuck with us.

The Vipers are feared and respected. We are the gatekeepers. We control the ports and that means money and power. Never mind the cops, businessmen, and politicians we have in our pockets.

The thing is, when you have assets like that, there’s always some asshole wanting to test you. And with Nico otherwise occupied, it’s on me to make sure no one gets through our defenses.

I’m the Enforcer.

The guys who work under me are all muscle, and they are loyal to the organization. I see to all our security needs, and I make sure anyone needing a lesson gets it.

Luc is the Council.

A bonafide fucking Princeton grad and a lawyer to boot. He handles all the business deals and makes sure our legit side is where it needs to be.

As for my cousin, Nico?

Well, like I said, he’s the undisputed King of the Vipers. That means he does a little bit of everything.

Nico is unhinged in the best possible way. He is cunning and sharp as a tack. I’m proud of the fucker.

I started working with him and Luc when they were just teenagers, and I was barely twenty. A bad batch of heroin sent Nico’s mother and Luc’s sister to their graves far too fucking early.

That skinny brainiac and my hotheaded cousin took on the local dealers themselves and almost wound up dead for their efforts.

That’s where I came in. I started out as an amateur MMA fighter, but I switched from main event type shit to underground matches.

When I got a hold of Nico and Luc, all black and blue from a beating they took, I decided to teach them a thing or two about fighting.

So, at my core, that’s what I am.

A fighter.

The three of us together were harder to defeat than any of the old gangs wanted to admit.

But look at us now.

We are the Vipers.

And no one crosses us and lives to tell the tale.

So, when the king is busy, I watch over the Den. Here I sit, minding the king’s throne and making sure everyone knows who and what we are.

A group of scantily clad women sashays past me, and I give them a once over.

It’s what they want. What they expect. And I am a man who appreciates beauty.

They’re too obvious for my tastes, though. I’m forty-two, not twenty-five. Spandex and stilettos aren’t what I look for in female companionship these days.

But then something, or rather, someone, catches my eye. She’s about five foot four inches tall and about a buck eighty, by my estimation.

That might be large to some guys, but not to me.

I’m six foot six inches tall and I am easily twice the curvy little woman’s weight.

My cock starts to twitch behind my slacks as I take in her purposeful stride.

Little Doll is walking right towards me, I realize and raise my eyes to her face.

Holy fuck.

If looks could kill I’d be dead on all accounts.

The woman is, well, there’s no other word for it, stunning.

She is stunning.

Thick, dark tendrils of curls spiral down her back, past her shoulders, in a wild mane that bounces when she walks.

I want to see it spread across my pillow like some dark dream. I bet it will look sexy as fuck.

I adjust my thickening cock and sit forward, placing my full frosted beer mug on the table at my side.

Her hips switch as she walks, bringing attention to the indent of her waist. My eyes travel down her body. I moan at the sight of her cleavage. Her big tits jiggle with every move, and that is not even the best part.

Lower still, my gaze rakes over her covetously, stopping once I get to the little skirt she has on with two slits on either side.

Holy. Fuck.

Little Doll has got a set of legs on her.

Oofah.

Every time she steps, a flash of pale skin shows her thick fucking thighs as she walks.

I want to feel those thighs wrapped around my head while I feast on her dripping cunt.

I lick my lips, my gaze going back to her sweetheart of a face.

But she ain’t smiling at me. In fact, her pale green eyes are flashing with an emotion I register as anger.

Like white hot fucking anger.

She is closer now, and I gotta admit I’m more than a little curious.

I mean, I don’t know this woman from Eve.

But I want to.

And I want to know why she’s pissed.

Of course, I wasn’t expecting her to grab my mug of beer and toss the contents in my face.

“You bastard! Are you really just sitting here looking for your next fuck after you knock my friend up!” she yells, and I’m soaked, but I don’t even blink.

How can I when she looks so fucking divine in all her fury?

But that’s my name. And I’m about to show her what it means.