Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
JOHAN
“Tuna?” Noah demands. “What the fuck sort of reply is Tuna?”
“It’s her safe word,” I reply, already aware of the phrase Aurora Bianchi uses with her darling brother.
Just as I’m aware of his usual reply.
But I don’t send it right away. Giovanni Bianchi is a busy man. He loves his sister, but he wouldn’t be able to immediately reply. However, he wouldn’t let her message go unanswered for long, either.
I glance at the clock, giving it two minutes.
“So she knows something’s up?” Noah demands. “I thought you said this plan was flawless.”
“It is flawless,” I promise him. “I’ve thought through every potential play, including this one. We’re fine. Just calm your dragon fire and let me work.”
Noah mutters something about stabbing me with a spoon and stalks over to the bar.
I ignore him. He knows better than to fix a drink right now. Our prey’s life will be in his hands when he goes to pick her up.
Something that’s exquisitely dangerous, given his profession of choice.
But I know he won’t hurt our little hacker. Not… permanently, anyway.
Noah’s proclivities are darker than mine, his penchant for pain something I’ve enjoyed watching more than experiencing.
Of course, Laz takes it all to a whole new level.
I’ve played separately with both of them. Normally, we all prefer to put a woman between us. Or we used to, anyway. Before finding Lark.
However, even then, Laz and Noah have never shared anyone before. I don’t think there’s a soul in this world who could handle group play with the pair of them.
Though, I’m hopeful that the one I’m currently messaging might be up for the task.
My sweet little black hat.
Lark.
That’s not her real name, but I rather like it. So I’ve taken to referring to her as such.
Except, I use a completely different nickname now as I type, Chill, honey pot, or the wasps will come out to sting.
I give it another thirty seconds before I hit Send.
Which is just enough time for Noah to come up behind me and read it over my shoulder. “Honey pot?”
“It’s what Giovanni calls her. I assume it has something to do with her scent.” A thought that nearly has my knot throbbing to life.
I’ve fantasized about her scent since the moment I discovered her existence on the dark web. That she ended up being the daughter of a business rival was just the icing on the cake.
“Honey-flavored pussy,” Noah says slowly. “Fuck. Yes.” He plops into the executive chair beside me. “God, I’m hard, and I haven’t even gone to pick her up yet.”
I snort. “Pretty sure you’re always hard.”
He lifts a shoulder. “I’m an alpha in my prime. Comes with the territory.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue that point, but I’m distracted by the ping of an incoming message. I can’t believe you didn’t even give me twelve hours to book my own flight, Gio. I don’t need the family jet. I’ll fly commercial.
My eyebrow wings upward. I’ve studied Giovanni’s communication style for years, not just because of his ties to our little hacker, but because of his business dealings.
Bianchis do not fly commercial, Aura, I type, doing my best to assert dominance while also being somewhat soft by using his other nickname for her—which is basically a misspelling of Aurora. And the matter is urgent, I add. You know I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I didn’t have to.
Little dots appear as she begins to respond. Then they vanish. This happens three more times before the screen goes dark.
So I tap out another message. Noah will be there in fifteen minutes. I suggest you be ready.
Those dots begin once more, only to die again in a flash.
Nothing.
Hmm.
“Did she buy it?” Noah asks slowly.
“Only one way to find out,” I reply, leaning down to grab a wallet from my bag. “Time to go play chauffeur, Mr. Dragon.” I hand him the wallet with the fake ID facing upward.
He glances at it and grunts. “Original.”
I smile. “I wanted to make sure you remembered it.”
His hazel eyes roll, and he tosses the wallet into the cupholder of his chair. Then he pulls his long, fiery hair back into a bun at his nape. That hair is what earned him the dragon nickname.
Well, that and his penchant for using fire to creatively take out his marks.
And the tattoo on his cock.
Although, the latter was a result of the nickname growing on him, so he decided to memorialize it in the way only Noah ever could.
“No weapons,” I remind him as he stands. “Sheriff Syrus is likely going to frisk you.”
“Sounds kinky.”
“Pretty sure he’s taken by one of the other Widows in town.” I’ve picked up on that use of a nickname through the chatter between the six females who own the town.
A town they bought with our money.
It took me seven very long years to track it all down, and imagine my surprise when I found a pretty little blonde omega as the culprit behind the hack.
That surprise only grew when I discovered her true identity.
And then the obsession began.
For the better part of the last few years, we’ve been developing a plan on how to exact our revenge.
Not on the Widows, as they like to be called, but on her. Our Lark.
For a while, we waited to see if she would return to the city to visit her brother. That would have been the easiest course of action for us. But as I continued digging through her history, it became apparent that she didn’t want to come home.
I thought she might return for her father’s funeral six months ago, and we prepared to grab her then. However, Giovanni never reached out.
Which was what birthed my idea to pretend to be him.
To lure her out on our own.
Take her home on our family jet.
And have a long-overdue conversation about the money she stole from us.
“Why are you still here?” Laz asks as he exits the jet’s bedroom in a freshly pressed dress shirt. He finishes rolling up the sleeves to the elbows, then goes straight over to the bar area to fix himself a scotch.
“Because I haven’t left yet, obviously.” Noah pops up out of his chair like a lethal cat, all athletic agility encased in a six-foot-three frame. “But you should be sure to save some of that tender energy for our new pet, boss.”
“Call me that in front of her and I’ll make you choke on my knot,” Laz returns without missing a beat.
I arch a brow. “You basically just guaranteed that Noah’s going to do exactly that.” The psychotic enforcer has been wanting an opportunity to suck Laz off for years. But Laz won’t let Noah anywhere near his dick.
Instead, I’m the one he turns to when he needs to get off.
An understanding that seems to glint in his gaze as he stares me down now while taking a sip from his glass.
Shit. I know that look. I also know why he disappeared into the back cabin to shower and change.
He’s pent up with need, waiting for our omega to finally arrive.
She might not be our scent match. But we don’t fucking care. We fully intend to keep her.
Assuming she’ll have us, anyway.
However, that’s what courting is for. And this is our first move—taking her for a ride on the jet back to New York City.
Might not be the most traditional way to woo an omega. Though, nothing about our arrangement here is normal.
She stole from us.
Now she’ll pay us back by giving us her time.
Or that’s the plan, anyway.
Noah saunters toward Laz, all arrogance and grace, and pauses right in front of the slightly taller man.
Dark chocolate and cinnamon notes swirl in the air as their scents combine in a tangible sparring match.
These two have danced around each other since the day they met, both fighting for dominance.
I learned long ago not to even try. Maybe that makes me the weakest alpha of our pack, but I’ve always identified more with beta energy. I just happened to present at eighteen with a knot, an experience that shocked the shit out of me about nineteen years ago.
“Not going to warn me not to touch her first?” Noah asks, a thread of a taunt underlining his words. “Johan says her pussy is like honey. I may not be able to resist.”
“I speculated that her scent is honey-like,” I clarify when Laz looks sharply my way. “I haven’t smelled her yet.”
His jaw visibly ticks. “I get first lick.”
“Pretty sure that’s our pet’s decision, not yours,” Noah drawls. “And guess who you’re sending to meet her first?” He bats his long red lashes at Laz, then turns to leave.
I stiffen. “No—”
“Weapons, yes, I heard you, tech boy genius,” Noah interjects, flashing me a dazzling smile. “I don’t need weapons to kill a sheriff, Johan. You know that better than anyone.”
He leaps out of the jet before I can amend the rules to strictly say no killing.
Not that he’ll listen to me, though.
“If he kills Syrus, or anyone else for that matter, Lark will never accept us,” I mutter, running my fingers through my hair.
“A fact he’s well aware of,” Laz replies, his voice deep and filled with a familiar rumble. He pushes away from the bar to walk over to where I’m sitting. With the way he’s looking at me, I half expect him to yank me out of my chair and force me to my knees.
“I have to monitor the phones and track Noah,” I remind Laz. “While I’m amazing at multitasking, I refuse to let anything—even you—jeopardize this mission.”
His lips curl up on one side as he takes over Noah’s vacated seat. “I like watching you work, Johan. That’ll content me for now.” His words are underlined with a knowing lethality, one that has me a bit concerned for Lark.
If he’s in this mood when she meets him, he might forget the meaning of consent. Laz already sees Lark as his, which is a sentiment I share. But I want Lark to desire to be ours rather than force her.
Which means I’ll probably need to be the buffer between them.
Fortunately, it’s a role I know how to play well.
However, it means I’ll be taking the brunt of all that alpha need later. And Laz has stamina that can go on for days.
Ignoring my thoughts of what’s to come, I focus on the present and pull up Noah’s tracker. Lark still hasn’t responded to her brother. So either I said something wrong—which I don’t believe I did—or she’s preparing to submit.
Or, I think, considering a third alternative. Or she’s planning for a fight.
Wanting to test that theory, I send a final text. Be sure to warn Sheriff Syrus that you have a driver coming in to get you. His name is Noah Dragon. He’s a newer enforcer with the family. Don’t test him, honey pot. He’s a wasp you don’t want to piss off.
Dots appear, and I wait with bated breath.
Only, she stops again a second later.
“This is going to be interesting,” I murmur to Laz. “Think she’ll go easily or give Noah hell?”
“If she’s the omega I think she is, it’ll be the latter.” He lifts his ankle to settle across his opposite knee. “But it won’t be inside her precious town. She cares about it too much to cause a scene. The fight will happen here.” He looks at me. “And I can’t fucking wait.”