Chapter 1
Elliot
“Keep it together, El,” I murmured to myself as I stepped into the ballroom.
I wiped my sweaty palms on the scratchy surface of my costume and then cursed the fact that I even had to do it in the first place.
I allowed myself a few seconds to focus on my breathing, which quelled the anxiety that was threatening to overtake me, then stepped farther into the room.
On most days, the breathing technique helped, but the combination of startled looks sent my way and the quiet murmurs that followed as I began weaving my way through the small crowd had my nerves returning tenfold almost instantly.
I’d never been one for social gatherings of any kind, but they were a necessary evil in my line of work.
When it came to managing the investment firm my dad had started and that I’d eventually taken over, I had no issue with delegating the public speaking events to the senior officers.
But the foundation was different. It was my baby and I wasn’t willing to sacrifice it for the sake of my fear of social engagements.
So being the center of attention at a fundraiser such as this one should have been the norm, but between the bruises on my face and the constant need to scan my surroundings to watch for an impending attack, I was on edge more than normal.
As I began greeting the patrons, ignoring their colorful and sometimes downright ridiculous Halloween costumes as I went, my mind drifted to the events of the night before.
I hadn’t exactly been honest with the police when they’d questioned me about the incident.
I’d told them I’d walked in on the vandals, but in reality, they’d followed me into the office, forcing their way inside as soon as I’d opened the door.
I’d known as soon as the bigger of the two men had wrapped his fingers around my throat that they hadn’t been there to rough me up because they disagreed with my foundation’s mission.
It would have been better if they had been.
No, their motivation had been much less complicated than hatred and a hell of a lot more dangerous.
A shiver filtered through my body as I remembered the veiled threat that had been whispered in my ear right after the Good Samaritan’s voice had called through the front door that he was calling for help.
You have three days.
I hadn’t needed three days. At least not to figure out what they’d been after. They’d made that part pretty clear by casting one last parting shot my way right before a beefy fist had connected with my jaw for the final time.
Stealing from Mr. White was your first mistake, Wittier. Don’t make it your last.
Two days.
I had two days left to figure out how to fix the clusterfuck I’d been thrust into. And I had to do it while pretending life was trudging along as usual.
Which meant getting through the next few hours. Then I’d be back at my computer trying to track down Mr. White’s missing money.
I was so busy mentally planning my next steps that I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. When my body ran right into a hard wall, I let out an “oomph” at the same time the wall grabbed a hold of me.
Okay, so not a wall.
My already dry mouth went drier as I took in the man I was currently pressed up against in what would have been considered an intimate embrace in any other situation.
“You okay?” came the deep voice that held just the slightest rasp to it. The strong fingers that were currently wrapped around my upper arms burned right through the thin material of my costume and threatened to singe my skin. Pulse after pulse of energy flared up and down my arms.
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “Sorry,” I mumbled as I let my eyes rake over him. He was about my height and age, but that was pretty much where the similarities between us ended. Even within the folds of his costume, I could tell he had a ripped body.
Hell, I was practically still pressed up against it, so there was no doubting that the ridges I was feeling were miles and miles of well-defined muscles.
His dark-as-night eyes matched the coal black of his hair.
A slight five-o’clock shadow hugged the sharp lines of his jaw and I had the sudden urge to feel that stubble all over my body.
“No problem,” he said, a slight smile spreading across his beautiful mouth. God, even his teeth were perfect.
I knew I needed to step back, but even as I leaned back a little, he seemed reluctant to release me and I found myself unable to follow through on the move.
The ballroom had disappeared completely, as had the dozens and dozens of partygoers.
There were no hot lights raining down on me, no fear of the behemoth from the night before showing up to finish what he’d started, no worries about the speech I was expected to make tonight thanking people for donating so generously.
It was just me and the painfully beautiful man holding me.
And the warmth that was filtering through my body.
I was dimly aware of the man talking, but I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.
What the hell was wrong with me? It wasn’t until I felt the gentle press of fingers into my upper arms that I realized he was rubbing circles into my skin.
Even as I cursed the fact that I couldn’t feel his actual touch, I jolted back to awareness.
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked dumbly.
Jesus, I needed to get it together.
The man chuckled slightly and the sound went straight to my long-neglected dick.
“I said, ‘Nothing is True; Everything is Permitted.’”
The familiar motto brought a shimmer of reality back and I fought off the fog of confusion. It was only when my eyes skimmed his entire body again that his statement made sense.
I laughed.
And fuck if it didn’t feel amazing.
“Aguilar,” I said with a smile as I took in his costume.
“Ezio,” the man said in all seriousness, as if we really were members of the secret brotherhood of assassins from my favorite video game series, Assassin’s Creed.
I knew I needed to say something else, but I couldn’t stop staring at him.
The feeling seemed to be mutual, because his eyes never left mine. Not even when he released one of my arms to carefully push my hood off. His fingers skimmed my unbruised cheek slightly as he lowered his hand again.
Back to my arm.
Thank God for that.
Fuck, what the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I move? Why was it so damn hard to breathe? Why did my body feel like it was going to go up in flames?
“Elliot?”
It wasn’t until the man finally stepped back just a little bit that I realized he hadn’t been the one to say my name. Why would he? He didn’t even know my name.
“Elliot.”
“Yeah?” I said absentmindedly as I held onto the other man’s gaze. At some point his hands had slid down until they were encircling my wrists.
“Elliot.”
It was the humor in the voice that finally got through to me, and I tore my eyes from the man standing just inches from me and turned to see my friend, Logan, and his husband watching me with amusement.
“What?” I asked as the haze of lust began to ease. “What?” I said more loudly as I tugged my hands free of the man’s warm hold.
“Hi,” Logan said with a knowing smile. If I hadn’t been so embarrassed, I would have laughed at the costumes he and his burly husband, Dom, were wearing.
Popeye and Olive Oyl.
Only Logan was dressed as Popeye and his hulking, bald husband was Olive Oyl.
“Um, hi,” I stammered. “Hi.”
Logan chuckled, as did his husband. “Hi,” he repeated. “Looks like a great turnout tonight.”
“Yeah,” I said. It was only then that I realized that the man and I hadn’t been lost in our own little world in some remote corner of the ballroom. No, we’d been smack-dab in the middle of it, surrounded by chattering partygoers and the benefactors I did business with every day.
“Great costumes,” Logan said as he motioned between me and the other man. “They’re from that video game, right? Did you guys plan this?”
“No!” I blurted out. “I mean, yes… no… fuck.” I could feel the heat suffusing my cheeks as all three men stared at me with open humor.
I shook my head and blew out my breath. “Yes, they’re from Assassin’s Creed, but no, we didn’t plan this.
We just met,” I said lamely as I looked at the dark-haired man whose eyes held mine.
“It was a happy coincidence,” he said softly, right before he sent me a sexy little wink.
Oh God, the things that wink inspired. “Yeah,” I agreed, though I wasn’t sure what I was even agreeing to.
I really needed to get a grip. “You guys look great,” I managed to say as I forced my attention back to Logan.
It was always a weird thing to be around the other man.
As much as I liked him and for as long as we’d been working together, there was always the elephant in the room that neither of us ever addressed.
It was just one of those things that had been as soon as I’d forced myself to overlook the connection between the Sylvie Barretti Hope for Life Foundation director and a certain police officer who’d been playing a part in my life from almost the moment I’d been born.
Thoughts of Declan Barretti threatened to sour my mood, so I forced myself to reach out and shake hands with Dom.
In my line of work, I spent more time interacting with Logan than I did his husband, but I’d managed to also forge a relationship with Declan’s brother-in-law that was based on mutual respect.
Barretti Security Group had been protecting the information of my dad’s and my investment firm clients for a long time now, and I had no doubt that Dom Barretti had been tempted at some point to end that relationship in deference to siding with his brother-in-law.
But for whatever reason, he hadn’t done it and like with Logan, my dad and I had managed to navigate the murky waters of the relationship, though admittedly, it was hard to sidestep the minefield of family relations when it came to such a huge family like the Barrettis and their ties to the community.