Chapter 10 | Preston
TEN | PRESTON
“As in Lachlan Park.” It isn’t a question; she’s saying it out loud to process. Those bright eyes tinged with red from crying, swirl with questions as she gazes ahead, absentmindedly.
She’s even beautiful when she cries. I’m not sure why the thought of that pisses me the fuck off.
“Lachlan Harbor,” she mutters to herself. Her eyes widen, slicing to mine. “Your family founded this town?”
What I don’t tell her is that technically, my full name is Preston Lachlan Megalley.
I shrug nonchalantly. “Something like that.”
Those expanded eyes tell me she knows I’m heir to Lachlan Harbor. But the detail I leave out is that the responsibility is also tied to being the future boss of the Megalley Syndicate.
Ever since I was sixteen, the weight of my future as being the boss of the Irish mafia has slowly been added to rest on my shoulders.
My dad has conditioned me to take on this responsibility because Arden believes he should leave his son better off and more successful than he was.
My father is brutal, unrelenting, and cruel when he needs to be, but he’s also the best fucking father a man can ask for.
It’s why the people in this town don’t cower from him like they do with me.
“That’s why you know my name,” she whispers. “You’re like my…boss.” Her head tilts, flashing me with that long scar under her ear.
I fight the urge to ball my fists at my side.
An unexpected feeling of disgust with myself surfaced when I used that imperfection against her.
But I had a job to do, so I pushed past it and ignored the buzz in my fingers that itched to tangle in her soft waves instead.
She was already trembling, but I didn’t miss the way I injected an extra dose of fear into her bloodstream when I dragged the blunt end of my knife across it.
Interest is pulling at all sides. The scar is too clean. Too seamless to be an accident.
Usually, a woman calling me boss would set my dick off behind my zipper, but it's nothing compared to the warmth that fizzles across my skin when she calls me Captain. “Does that mean you’ll finally be a good girl and listen to me?”
Her features drop, her lower lip quivering. “Please, don’t call me that.”
Now I’m really fucking interested in this girl.
Where she came from.
What darkness plagues her past?
I’m a very intuitive man. Every time her eyes flit to my knife clenched in my fist, I have this gut-wrenching inclination that she isn’t a stranger to one.
Which further solidifies my distrust of her.
It's not a secret that Luciano and the Calco Cartel are bleeding into our borders. It’s clear that he will do whatever it takes to destroy us and establish ownership of the East Coast, expanding his operations.
It’s why Tayla and my mom’s hearts were carved out of their chests and succumbed to a styrofoam box like they were nothing.
But out of all of us, they were pure. They were more than flesh and bone that protected their souls.
They were kind. Exuding the type of warmth that burrows so deep it can’t help but shatter the frigid darkness that infests anyone enslaved to a world like ours.
It was a horrific and immoral motive that left us distracted and vulnerable. While we were mourning, Luciano took out some of our men positioned on our borders. The bloodshed five years ago hit us like a flash flood amid a drought.
We got our shit together. Recruited more men. Arden and I came back stronger on the outside, since nothing remained on the inside.
It’s been a year since the last attack, but that doesn’t mean he’s given up.
What better way to destroy us than from the inside?
Kate’s scar makes me think she crossed someone unmerciful. The uneven healing tells me it wasn’t stitched.
What if this is his plan?
Sending a pretty distraction to worm her way to the heart of our operation.
Not on my fucking watch.
My voice is unrecognizable. “Get up.”
Her chest stills. “What? Wh-Where are we going?”
“Your sentence starts now, darling.” I reach for her forearm, tugging her upward as she struggles to stand like a newborn giraffe on those long legs that would perfectly wrap around my waist while I thrust between them.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I won't let it happen again. Please, just let me go!”
I tug her through the room, keeping her tucked alongside me. She seems slippery. Like she’ll slide through my fingers if I don’t keep her exactly where I want her.
Darkness seeps through my words. “There’s only one way I like someone begging. So, I suggest you keep your mouth shut before I decide to force you to your knees and shove all these useless apologies down the back of your throat with my cock.”
She gasps in shock, the sound making me wonder if that's what she’d sound like the first time my dick slides into her.
Goddamn. Get it together.
Surprisingly, she listens for a moment before her mouth parts, hitting me with a question that is just as frustrating. “You’re just going to leave him here? Like that?”
Yep. That’s precisely what I’m going to do.
Twenty-four hours from now, the stench will be so horrendous that I’m hoping it might entice someone else to come out with the truth.
Rowan wasn’t alone in collecting that shipment, and I’m hoping that when I sit Cathal down in front of his friend, he won't think twice about keeping secrets from me.
Unlike Rowan, Cathal has a clean record with me.
He might not end up dead like the bastard who was with him, but he won't escape unscathed either.
Pushing Kate out the door, I close it behind me, forcing her down the opposite end of the hallway she ran down.
She nervously nibbles on her bottom lip as I march her to one of the military-grade utility vehicles we use to navigate the tunnels.
Moving to the passenger side, I toss open the door and gesture for her to get in.
Kate peers at me with hesitancy before I fold my arms in a silent challenge.
She swallows and crawls in, folding her hands into her lap, anxiously fiddling with her fingers as I shut the door. I move around the front and slide in beside her, firing up the vehicle as we take off, covering the half mile of tunnels that lead from the park to Lachlan Estate.