Chapter 4
four
DARE
Someone slams into me as I make my way to the elevator. My fists immediately clench, and I turn, my scowl deepening when Eric presses into my space. The hallway is empty, save for a couple too interested in making out to pay us any mind.
“Why were you talking to my fiancée?” He bumps his chest against mine. The pretty boy is aggressive tonight.
“Vanderbelt, you better back the fuck off,” Remy growls, inching closer, but I hold my hand up to stop him. I’m not afraid of this asshole.
Stepping into Eric, I get in his face and he backs away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him.
His jaw clenches. “I saw you with Rosalynn. Stay away from her.”
Rose? “I didn’t know you two were engaged.”
“We’re not, but we will be as of Monday.”
Monday is the quarterly board meeting. Is he planning to propose? I almost laugh at the thought. That would be funny to watch. I saw the way she practically crawled out of her skin to get away from him before I cornered her. What makes him think she’d ever agree to marrying him? “Does she know that?”
“It’s none of your business,” Eric snaps. The idiot gets brave and inches closer. “Like I said, leave my future wife alone.” He moves to shove me, but I snatch his wrist and twist his arm behind his back. His cry alerts the kissing couple, and the woman shrieks when I slam Eric against the wall next to the elevator.
“Touch me again, and I’ll chop off your hand.”
Eric struggles against my hold, but it’s a pathetic attempt. “Is that a threat?”
A dark chuckle rumbles in my throat. “It’s a promise.” When I tug his arm a little harder, Eric shouts in pain again, the sound doing little to soothe the annoyance and frustration bubbling in my chest.
First, Rose thinks she can insert herself into my business, and now, this prick thinks he can intimidate me? I must be losing my touch. My grip on Eric’s wrist tightens, but Remy grabs me before I can break it.
“Too many people,” he warns.
I release a long-suffering sigh. “Fine.” I lean in to whisper in Eric’s ear, pushing his face against the wall even harder. “As for your fiancée, I’ll do whatever I want with her, and if you’re lucky, I might even let you watch.”
With that final jab, I release him and smash my finger into the button to call the elevator.
I fucking hate these parties.
Remy side-eyes me as he settles behind the steering wheel of his onyx Range Rover. Despite the run-in with Eric, the musky scent of Rose’s perfume clings to my skin. As soon as the SUV is turned on, I roll down my window and glare out of it. The air of late-night New York City is fresher than other times of day, and it sweeps in, ripping that tantalizing smell from the cabin.
I curl my fist to keep from rolling the window up, so I can savor her scent.
Clearing his throat, Remy says, “So. That went well.”
“Remington,” I warn.
“Oh, no. Using my full name?”
I glare at my best friend and bodyguard. Frank is Remy’s father, and though he’s retired and spends his days baking now, they come from a long line of mercenaries. Not to mention, Remy’s one of a handful of people I actually trust with my life. But, right now, he’s pissing me off. “I don’t pay you to speak.”
He snorts. “Fuck you. You pay me to keep you safe, but I’m still your best friend, and even I’m human enough to admit Rose Miller is fucking hot. I guess Eric thinks so too.”
“Shut up.” I jam my finger into the button and close the window. Rose’s smell lingers in the air, taunting me the same way she did. After her little stunt this morning, I had every intention of getting inside Rose’s head tonight, but she’s occupying my thoughts more than she should be. Running into Eric was the cherry on top of a bad night. The way he insisted that Rose was his makes me want to pluck her from the garden, just to keep him from having her.
That, and I’d get to keep that vicious mouth all to myself.
Remy navigates NYC’s busy streets with ease. “Don’t tell me you have a hard-on for the ice princess.”
“I don’t. ”
He lifts his eyebrows but doesn’t call me on the lie. Maybe having Rose trapped against that railing made me hard. All the news outlets and tabloids paint the picture that she’s coldhearted and unfeeling, but at the bakery, she’d reacted so viscerally to me. Then, when I had her cornered, she was anything but unfeeling. Having the power to unsettle her went straight to my cock, though I could blame that on the fact I haven’t had sex in close to six months. Any man would have felt the same stirrings of desire, especially if Rose Miller looked up at them with those wide, almost too-innocent eyes while wearing a dress that revealed curves which practically beg to be explored.
“She said she wouldn’t hurt my sisters,” I tell him.
“Do you believe her?”
I made the mistake of trusting a Miller before. “No.”
A heavy silence settles between us as he drives me home, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Remy knows the lengths I’ve gone to in the name of protecting my sisters. He knows the sacrifices I’ve made. He knows how much their safety means to me. And Rose Miller is an errant strand in need of clipping.
Remy drops me off out front. “Lorenzo is here. Do you want me to walk you to the door?”
I give him a look, but he meets my gaze, unblinking. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll wait until you’re inside.”
If not for more than a few attempts on my life, I would give him shit. All inexperienced mercenaries. No one like the men Remy and his father train and control.
Thank fuck for that .
“Go get some rest, Remy.” I climb out of the Range Rover and shut the door, sliding my gaze to where Lorenzo hides in the shadows. I dip my chin in acknowledgement before heading inside to shower the scent of Rose off my skin.
Entering my bedroom, I yank the tie from my neck and toss the scrap of material onto my mattress, scowling out of the floor-to-ceiling windows lining one wall. Piercing, hazel-green eyes haunt my mind. The way Rose stared up at me, terrified I’d hurt her, makes my jaw clench.
I hate that she seemed breakable.
Hate that her opinion of me grates over my skin.
After the threat she issued this morning, I had every intention of scaring her off, thinking she was as ruthless as her father. But now I’m not so sure. Despite her ice-princess persona, there was a softness to her when she said she believes I’m lonely.
I think people like us all suffer from the same affliction.
As those words dance around my head, I bite back a snarl. I don’t like having something in common with her. I don’t like thinking of her as anything more than a ruthless Miller. But she swore she’d never hurt my sisters. Swore she has morals.
She was so indignant, part of me believes her. If she is truly that naive, then she really has no clue of the tangled web of corruption surrounding her. Sure, my hands may be bloody, but I’ll do anything to protect the people I love.
Can Rose say the same of her father?
The fresh threat, idle or not, slithers through my mind, making my chest clench. I should check on my sisters. Changing out of the stifling tux, I pull on joggers and a shirt, then grab a new burner phone and dial Gregory’s number .
“Dare,” he greets me. When my parents died, Gregory was the only one who seemed to give a shit about us kids and not the money we would inherit. I assume that’s why they appointed him as our guardian after Grandma and Grandpa died. I don’t think they ever expected Gregory to have to take care of us, but he did, and he’s the closest thing I have to a father now.
“How you doing, old man?”
He huffs. “I was fine until you insulted me.”
Chuckling, I rub my hand over my jaw. “You know I’m joking, G. How are they?”
Gregory sighs. “Annoyed with me, as always.”
Gregory, an ex-Marine turned mercenary, was my father’s oldest friend. Before everything, he wasn’t in the private security business, but he’s the only one I trust. Gregory had to be the one to guard my twin sisters and keep them safe. They’ve been in Italy for a little over a year now, and before that, they were in Ireland. I miss my siblings. I miss my family. But until I take care of the person responsible for my parents’ deaths, they have to stay hidden.
I won’t risk their lives. It’s the shitty truth of my world that loving someone means they can be used against you.
“Can I talk to Analise and Emmie?”
“Let me grab them.”
The phone rustles and crackles, and a soft puff of air rushes through the speakers. “Hey, Dare,” they say at the same time.
“Hey.” I frown. Why did I call? Maybe I just needed to hear their voices after Rose’s threats. “How are you?”
“Fine. Bored,” Emmie says quickly.
“How can you be bored in Italy?” I drop onto the bed .
“You’d be surprised,” Analise says. “Gregory won’t even let us go dancing.”
“You know why.”
There’s a pause. Two heavy sighs. Silence. They want the normal lives of twenty-one-year-olds. They want to dance and laugh and drink. But they can’t.
“I’m sorry,” I tell them.
“It’s fine,” Analise lies. “It’s been years, though, Dare. No one would recognize us.”
We don’t know that. It would be easy to run pictures of them through facial recognition software. With some of the latest technological advancements, all it would take is one picture from some party or club to make its way onto the internet, and someone could easily hunt them down.
“I miss you guys.”
“We miss you too, Dare Bear,” Emmie murmurs. “Has anything exciting happened? Are you dating anyone?”
Rose’s face flashes through my mind. “Maybe you’re afraid of love.”
“No.” In a way, Rose was right. There’s no point in dating when nothing will ever come of it. I’m not so heartless I’d find a girlfriend and give my enemies a target. Even my friends, like Remy, Crue, and Mace, have to remain at a distance. Though Remy might be the only one who understands what it’s like to live a life you can’t share with anyone.
“At least you’re miserable too,” Analise mutters.
I laugh. “It won’t always be like this.”
They don’t respond. We’ve had this conversation a million times. They hate that I get to live my life in New York City, mistaking my mission for freedom. There’s no freedom in uncovering the truth.
Maybe it would have been better to sell our shares to Joseph Miller when he approached me while I awaited trial. We could have fled the country and carved out a life for ourselves together, but as soon as he got on the witness stand and pointed a finger at me, my fate was sealed.
He was lying.
The lack of proof to support what he said didn’t stop him. Joseph Miller wanted me locked away for a crime I didn’t commit.
Every instinct tells me he killed my parents. I’ve spent years trying to figure out why. The conglomerate he’s chair of already had a small stake in Vista Holdings. It doesn’t make sense that he’d come after my parents for something as simple as their start-up company. Aside from uncovering some petty white-collar crime he and his former wife engaged in, I haven’t found anything that will put him away for good.
White-collar criminals get it easy, and I want him to suffer for what he’s done.
The only real proof I have that he’s responsible are the confessions from mercenaries Gregory tortured, but what jury would believe me—the man accused of slaughtering his parents—over an upstanding businessman like Joseph?
So, while he gets to live in luxury, my life and my sisters’ lives changed forever. They’re hidden away, and I’m here, a seemingly easy target for any asshole dumb enough to go up against Frank and Remy.
Joseph wants me gone, and one day, I’ll figure out why, but until then, my sisters have to stay in Italy under Gregory’s protection.
“Can you come visit?” Emmie asks, her voice soft and already defeated.
We both know that’s not possible.
My grip on the burner phone tightens. “I’ll see you soon,” I lie again, and they both let me, because we’re desperate for those words to be true.
Dressed in a sinfully tight dress, Rose stands at the edge of the balcony, facing me, with her hands lightly braced on the railing. She tips her chin as I step toward her. My gaze travels over her exposed neck, that delicate skin begging for marks.
Her chest rises as she inhales, the V-cut of the fabric teasing the promise of two full breasts. The slit up the leg of the gown reveals itself when she shifts positions. Those thick thighs are every man’s wet dream. All that tantalizing skin. Lightly bronzed. Soft.
Stopping in front of her, I watch with amusement as her tongue dashes out to wet her plump lips. My hand wraps around her throat, and she sucks in a quick breath.
“Dare.” Her voice is seductive, husky and rich with need.
“What did I tell you about saying my name like that?” I ask, leaning close enough our mouths brush.
“Dare,” she murmurs again, palms pressing against my pecs.
Grabbing her leg through the slit in the gown, I wrap it around my waist and claim her mouth, forcing my tongue past those sassy lips until she moans, the sound traveling through me and straight to my cock.
She’s the daughter of my enemy, and I’ll fuck her like she’s one.
As my fingers trace along the line of her thong, she gasps. “Your alarm clock,” she says, breaking the kiss.
Pulling back, I search her face. “What? ”
“Wake up.” Her palm cracks across my cheek and I jolt awake.
My chest heaves as I blink, sucking in air and recovering from the dream I shouldn’t be having. It takes me a moment to shake off sleep, but when I do, I realize I’m painfully hard.
Groaning and scrubbing my hand over my face, I try to expel all thoughts of Rose from my mind. Except, the more I try to force her out, the more I picture the way she stared up at me.
My dick throbs.
Fuck me.
There’s no way I’m jacking off to the memory of Rose Miller, but this erection isn’t going anywhere. I struggle out of the bed and head into the bathroom to start the shower.
She’s the enemy, but she’s also hot as fuck.
That mouth. Those curves. Those full tits. That ass. Worst of all, the way her pulse flutters as she faces me head-on. She tries to be brave when she talks back to me, but I felt the way her heart rate sped up the longer I held her in place. I caught the way her pupils blew wide.
And knowing I have the power to make the ice princess feel something is intoxicating.
My cock throbs again, and against all better judgment, I wrap my hand around it and stroke one out to the idea of putting Rose Miller in her place. It’s the hardest I’ve come in a long time.
Though I should leave it alone, part of me wants to see her again, to watch her bristle at my presence and hear every acidic word she wants to say to me.
Because, if I can remember she’s the enemy, maybe I’ll get the idea of bending her over out of my head.