Angelic Acts (The Syndicate #4)

Prologue

Sebastian

The sun momentarily blinds me as I step outside my office building. I’ve just finished presenting the blueprint for the next cyber defense protocol to my brother, Matthias, who runs Syndicate Enterprise, the private defense company my family owns.

I have a few minutes before I need to go to Dom’s compound to show him how the system works for the Syndicate, the underground criminal organization my family also runs.

Syndicate Enterprise is our cover for the Syndicate. Dom, my oldest brother, works alongside Roman, another brother of mine, in operating it. Meanwhile, I work on both sides of the operations.

As I stroll to my motorcycle in the parking lot, a dark flash of brown catches my eye. A brunette stands in the lot staring at a wall. Her thick bangs almost completely cover the sweet, silky face of the woman. A face adorned with a bright smile.

I stop to admire her beauty before coming to my senses and grabbing my helmet. It’s creepy to stare at women, I know this, and yet, I can’t tear my eyes from her. At least I’m not kidnapping her like my psycho brother, though I understand his actions a little more in this moment.

The angel cocks her head towards the brick building attached to the parking lot and leaps against it. Dropping my helmet, I ready myself to help her. She must have fallen and could need me. But then she jumps, inching her hand up the wall, until she grabs something and cups it in her hands.

She whispers into her palms, and I ache to hear what she’s saying. She pets whatever she’s holding, then drops a hand to empty her pocket into her purse. With that move, she inadvertently shows me what she’s found.

The blue tail that flicks against her palm disturbs me. As does the black and white striped body of the lizard. Choking down the lump in my stomach, I continue watching. Because despite my rational fear of reptiles, there’s something completely captivating about this woman.

When she finishes emptying her breast pocket, she slides the lizard inside. It peeks its head out, and she rubs it gently while talking to him. This wild woman walks past me, close enough that I can hear her.

“… wildness, little Fern. You’re going to love my home. There’ll be many more…”

The husky notes of her voice have me staggering back against my bike. When it lets out a groan, I launch myself to catch and steady it. Horrified by my clumsiness, I shyly turn to face her. But I can’t find her.

With pounding in my ears, I hurriedly search the lot for her.

When I catch her entering an ancient car, I hop on my bike and kickstart it.

When she pulls out of her spot and turns out of the lot, I do the same.

And when she gets on the interstate in the opposite direction of Dom’s compound, I follow her.

I’m practiced enough at tailing someone that she doesn’t notice me.

Or maybe it’s that she’s too oblivious to see the bike pulling into her suburban neighborhood, Shady Meadows, behind her.

Or even it’s that she’s so innocent she’d never suspect the bike parked on the street across from her house of following her.

Luckily there’s a park across from her that helps me blend in.

Either way, as she gets out of the car, still talking to that disgusting creature, she doesn’t even glance in my direction. I park my bike and sit at the pavilion facing her house. By the time she’s settled in her den, I’ve downloaded the floor plan to her house.

Every move of hers enthralls me. And every single one of her actions is on display for me through her windows. Blinds that should be closed to prevent this sort of surveillance remain open and inviting. It’s like she’s calling to me, asking me to watch over her.

Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m simply watching over her. Protecting her. I ignore the voice in my head telling me she’s not in danger. I don’t care.

When the sun goes down, I creep closer to her house. If any neighbors look out their windows, they’ll see a six-foot-two, dark-haired man in glasses crouched behind her car staring intently into her house.

When she microwaves a frozen lasagna for dinner, I shake my head in disappointment. This angel deserves better than freezer-burned, prepackaged dinners. I could give her more. I should give her more. It’s what I’m meant to do. It’s why I’m here.

And when she finally goes to the back of the house, I know it’s bedtime. Looking at the floor plan of the two-bedroom home, the only rooms back there are the primary bedroom and adjoining bathroom.

The faint glow of light through the house eventually goes out, but to my surprise, there’s still light seeping through the den window. She must have left a lamp on or candle lit.

An hour passes.

What if it’s a candle?

Another hour.

It could start a fire.

A third hour.

I can’t let her house burn down.

Making the executive decision that this is for her safety, I slowly creep to her living room window. I try the latch, and to my convenience and distress, my sweet, trusting angel didn’t lock it. She should take more precautions about her safety.

Holding my breath, praying no alarm goes off, I slowly slide the window open. I freeze for a moment, preparing to get caught, only for the air to remain still. When I open the window fully, I slide inside and close it behind me, ensuring I lock it. I can’t risk anyone unseemly getting inside.

Looking around, I memorize every detail of the room. With my eidetic memory, not one detail evades me. However, there aren’t many details. No personalized décor or framed family pictures. In fact, the whole room seems bare. Almost as though this were a showroom.

I finally turn towards the mysterious light, hellbent on turning it off, only to shriek in horror.

I jump backwards, hitting my back against the almost empty bookshelf.

A framed picture knocks over, adding to the racket.

I quickly pick it up but almost drop the photo at the sight of the snake on it.

But the beaming brunette it’s wrapped around makes the picture breathtaking.

Clutching the picture in my hands, I freeze.

There’s no way the amount of noise I just made won’t wake her.

This is my nightmare. Being caught sneaking into the most beautiful angel’s home only to be greeted by a wall from hell full of enclosures and tanks filled with snakes, lizards, turtles, frogs, and all sorts of scaly creatures.

The light is to warm these creatures, not from a lamp or candle.

When nothing happens, not a single peep is heard from her end of the house, I let out a relieved breath.

She must be a deep sleeper. I place the frame back on her shelf, but not before snapping a photo.

Maybe I can learn how to edit a picture to remove the snake.

But as soon as I think it, I feel a pang of guilt.

Clearly these repulsive creatures give her great joy.

I can’t take that from her, not even for my own comfort.

Keeping a large gap between me and the wall of horror, I inspect the house. The kitchen is small and barely stocked. There’s almost as much animal food inside as there is people food.

Her fridge has a half-drunk gallon of milk, some eggs, cheese, and a pie.

Interesting choices. And her freezer contains several microwave-ready dinners as well as two drawers full of wrapped foods.

Curiously, I open one of them and immediately drop it.

I run to the sink and gag a few times. When nothing comes up, I take a deep breath and drink some water straight from the faucet. It helps with the cold sweats.

Once I’ve composed myself, I rewrap the frozen mouse and place it back in its drawer. Enough snooping in there for me. Instead, I walk down the hallway. There are two rooms and a half-bath. I relieve myself in there, then inspect it. It’s a normal bathroom. Doesn’t tell me anything about my angel.

The guest bedroom is empty. Literally empty. There’s no bed or furniture. Nothing at all. It’s odd, but I let it go.

The only room that remains unseen is her bedroom. Where she’s currently sleeping. Can I risk going in there? I shouldn’t. But how can I not?

I understand Psyche’s need to look upon Eros’s face despite knowing the consequence. I can’t stop myself from sneaking inside, just to get a peek at the enchanting angel.

The brown locks are braided into two long ropes. My fingers twitch with the need to pick one up. It’s only three steps for me to be at her side, but I refrain. I only allow myself the pleasure to gaze upon this beauty. Touching is not allowed. Not until she permits it.

She’s still in her sleep, unmoving except her deep breaths. If only she would open her eyes so I can see what color they are. But that’s a ridiculous wish, because if she did, while I’d see something magnificent, she’d see a stranger looming over her.

She’d be scared. Terrified. That thought sours my mood enough to make me turn, close her door, and sit on her couch.

How could I get so caught up in one woman’s beauty? In her act of mercy towards a lizard of all things. How could I let myself follow her home? It isn’t right.

Maybe I’m more like Matthias than I thought.

But no. Instead of kidnapping my angel, I just made sure she got home safely. And my intent upon entering was to ensure her safety from a candle fire. I had pure intentions.

But I can’t let this continue.

I sneak back out, push my motorcycle a few houses down before turning it on, then drive the hour back to my penthouse in the city.

The entire time, her face is tattooed on my mind.

If only we could have had a chance, beautiful angel. But my world isn’t one I can have a woman in. I can’t keep you safe. Margot was taken by the Bratva only weeks ago. I could never risk them getting their hands on you.

Goodbye, my angel.

…

And yet, every afternoon is spent outside her home, watching her, looking over her. I can’t seem to stop myself from going to her. Her angel’s call can’t be ignored, no matter how hard I try.

By the fifth day, I realize this is a problem. I don’t even know this woman, and I’ve sacrificed my morals over her. So, I remedy that.

Countless hours of research on my brunette mystery leaves me with more questions than answers.

Lizzy Lewis seems like a normal girl from a normal family.

She’s twenty to my twenty-six. Another reason we can’t be together.

She’s too young. Six years isn’t a big difference when the couple is older like Matthias and Margot, where Margot’s already my age, but for a twenty-year-old, it’s just not right.

My Lizzy works at the zoo as an assistant to the zookeepers. She’s in the reptile exhibits. No surprise there. She started about three months ago. Which is when she bought this house in cash. And when she bought her car… in cash.

And when she started existing.

Lizzy, such a fitting name for my lizard-loving angel. If only it were her real name. Lizzy Lewis, it seems, only became a person three months ago.

It’s a false identity. I have so many questions for my little angel. Questions I could easily answer with a simple photo search through my not-so-legal codes. But I won’t invade her privacy. At least, not her past that she’s taking such measures to bury.

However, no one assumes a fake persona unless they need one. Something scared Lizzy enough to obtain one. Which means she could be in danger. There’s a threat against her, and I’m the only one capable of keeping her safe.

It solidifies my decision.

After a week of watching her, I approach the owners of the house that backs up to hers.

They share a fence. When I offer the elderly couple twice the value of the house in cash for their immediate departure, they’re all the merrier to take the deal.

I even help them find a nice home in a retirement community.

There’s a park, walking trail, and people their age. It’s not too selfish of an offer.

A week later, I’ve moved out of my penthouse and into the two-story home that backs to Lizzy’s. From the second floor, I can see over the fence and watch my angel. Keep her safe and protected under my constant vigilance.

My actions are justifiable in that I only will interfere with her life when she needs me. I won’t ever inconvenience or harm her. I won’t even introduce myself. She’s not mine to have by my side, but she’s mine to protect from afar.

And that has to be enough.