Stepbrother’s Enemy (In the Family Way #4)

Chapter 1 Ryker

RYKER

I’m counting up today’s earnings when Kane enters my office. “She’s down at Rocky’s. Got her crew with her.”

“I warned her,” I snarl as I stand.

Kane smirks. He knows what’s about to go down, and he’s excited. “Maybe she’s making a takeover play?”

My chair slams against the wall as I rocket to my feet and snatch my coat from the rack. Teeth grinding together, I launch past my second-in-command.

“Rally the troops,” I tell him. “Meet me there.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I bust out of my twenty-million-dollar mansion and slide into my blood-red Lamborghini. I floor it and drift out of the gates onto the street.

A couple of cops doing a traffic stop just watch me run a red light and look the other way. They know who I am, and they know better than to pull me over.

I’m Ryker Vale, heir to the Vale crime family. For the last thirty years, we’ve run half of Chicago. Only now there’s a new gang in town, The Noirs, and they’re making things messy.

They came to town looking for a fight, but after a few years of trading blood, we finally reached a truce. We’ve gone five years without incident, but now their daughter, Sable Noir, is pushing the boundary lines and stirring up trouble.

I sent Kane to warn her once, but if what he says is true, she’s not listening. And tonight, I’m going to show her who really runs this city.

A fleet of black Noir-family SUVs sits out front of Rocky’s Bar as I pull up, and my rage starts boiling. What does this girl think she’s doing?

Glancing in my rear-view, I see my boys rolling up behind me as I park across the street and get out.

“How many does she have with her?” I bark.

“Six or seven,” Kane replies.

I slam a fist into my palm, embracing the pain, readying myself for war as I cross the street. My men take up the flanks like the soldiers they are. Sable might think I’m gonna go easy on her, but she has no idea what’s coming.

I nearly tear the front door off its hinges as I enter the bar. Smoke fills my nostrils, and chatter assaults my ears. Club music blares, and Noir men in black suits lean against the bar.

Rocky’s is Vale territory. It’s a front that we use to clean our dirty money. The Noir family knows this. But Sable is unhinged and crossing the line.

Well, if she wants a war, I’ll give her one.

“Point her out,” I tell Kane. I’ve never actually met Sable in person, but as soon as I’ve asked the question, I see there’s no need. Only one woman in this bar tonight could be Sable Noir, and I’m staring right at her.

Stunning would be an understatement. She’s drop-dead gorgeous. Dark hair with ice-cold blue eyes. Lush, plump, red lips, a thin neck and perky tits that are nearly spilling out of the black lace top she’s wearing.

“Fuck…”

Blood rushes to my cock as I stare. Kane shifts at my side, ready for my command.

“I know,” he chuckles. “She’s a looker—”

“Shut your mouth,” I snap, drawing a startled look from him. “We’re here to work.”

Leading the pack, I stride right up to one of Sable’s men as he’s about to take a shot and drive my fist into his side. At least two ribs crack under my knuckles. He cries out and drops like a brick, writhing in pain at my feet.

His men whirl, reaching for weapons, but Sable snaps, raising her hand in the air, “Hold.”

Her men freeze, obeying their leader’s command. She’s got them well trained, I’ll give her that.

Sable may be only eighteen, but she already looks like a fashion model turned crime boss.

My eyes narrow as I stare into her icy blues. She’s wearing a blood-red skirt, black stockings with a black garter belt, and black designer heels with red bottoms.

“Sable Noir,” I say, my voice tight and low. “This is Vale turf. You and your men leave now. I’m only going to ask once.”

The energy of my men is palpable—they’re itching for blood.

Sable’s plump lips twist up at the corners. Am I amusing her?

She glances at her man still groaning in pain at my feet, then takes a cherry from her drink and slips it into her mouth.

“After you broke poor Jacob’s ribs? No, I don’t think so…Ryker? That’s your name, right?”

My skin is hot. My knuckles yearn for flesh and bone. “You know my name.”

Her eyes gleam back at me. She nods, flicking the cherry stem onto the floor.

“Yes, I do. But I have news for you, Ryker.” The length of her legs and the curve of her hips goes straight to my core as she stands. Her designer perfume wafts into my lungs—sweet, dangerous, intoxicating. “This bar belongs to me now.”

She glares insolently back at me, her eyes challenging my authority like a bratty child. She really thinks she’s the new queen in town.

My fingers are itching to reach out and grab her by the hair, shatter her defiance, and show her what real control is. I’m the king of Chicago, and every man in this room knows what that means.

I’ve got my .38 in my waistband. I could pull it out and end her life right now. But that would mean starting a war. Plus, she’s just too gorgeous. It would be like throwing paint on a DaVinci.

Instead, I slap her.

I slap her hard.

Her hair whirls, and her pretty little face jerks away from me as my rough palm connects with her soft cheek.

To my surprise, she quickly snaps her face back to mine—her eyes piercing, her lips pursed.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Without hesitating, she drives her fist straight into my nose.

Yeah. Now we’re getting somewhere.

The bar erupts into chaos around me as my boys attack. Kane drives his knee into a man’s guts and tosses him to the floor. One of my guys takes a stool to the chest but comes up swinging.

It’s mayhem, but Sable and I stand face to face in the eye of the hurricane, staring each other down like mortal enemies.

She swings again, but I block the punch and counter with another slap—this time to her other cheek. They’re both red now, like two ripe tomatoes.

I move in to grab her by the hair, but she kicks me hard, driving the tip of her designer heel into my shin. The strike throws me off balance. She follows up with her fist, driving it straight into my jaw. My head jerks to the side, and I spit blood onto the bar.

Grinning, I look up at her. It’s been a while since anyone actually hurt me.

Deadly fury fills me, but it’s mixed with something deeper. I want to grab her and pin her beneath me—show her who the real boss is.

But when I swing out, aiming a backfist at her gorgeous face, she ducks like a trained fighter and kicks me again, this time right to the stomach.

I train abs religiously, so the blow doesn’t knock the wind out of me, but the stem of her heel is going to leave a mark.

“So you’re not just a pretty face,” I growl, licking the blood from my lip.

This girl clearly knows what she’s doing. I feint to the side, acting like I’m aiming to punch her in the ribs, and when she moves to dodge, my hand darts out and snatches her hair.

The sound of her yelp causes my cock to swell painfully beneath my jeans. I push her up against the bar, bending her back until it’s about to break. I grind my bulge between her thighs so she can feel what she’s doing to me.

Her pupils dilate. “There’s no way you’re hard right now—"

“Violence does things to me, babe.”

One of her men attacks me from the side, trying to score points with his boss by protecting her, but I drop him with a simple elbow to the face.

Sable knees me in the balls, causing me to loosen my grip on her. She dips out from under me and hits me hard in the jaw. This won’t be as easy as I thought.

Grinning, I catch her fist as she goes for the follow-up punch. Without holding back, I knee her right in the guts, causing her to stagger back.

Her skirt tears, showing more of her exceptional legs.

My blood pumps madly, and my breath rasps in my lungs. My fists are balls of hot iron by my sides as the two of us face off.

Men lie at our feet, panting and bleeding, crying out as the fight rages on.

I’ve heard rumors about Sable’s severity, but now I’ve tasted it myself.

“You just don’t know when to go down, do you?” I snarl, searching her stance for a vulnerability.

“Maybe it’s you who needs to go down.”

Sirens blare outside. The cops are coming. We’ve got at least half the force on our payroll, but a brawl like this is too big to sweep under the rug. It’s time to go.

“Yeah, you’d like that,” I snicker.

I drive my boot into one of her guys who’s collapsed at my feet, then turn my back and gather the boys. Bloody and bruised, we step outside and head for our cars, followed almost instantly by Sable and her crew.

So she knows better too than to stick around when the heat shows up.

“Crazy bitch,” Kane growls, sliding in the Lambo with me. He’s got a black eye and a fat lip, but the blood on his knuckles show he did more damage than he took.

“Yeah…” I mutter, pulling off just as the cops arrive. “Crazy…”

We’ve had a peace pact for five years, but tonight’s events may have just broken that truce.

And that’s a big deal. My father is going to be pissed. But that’s not what I’m thinking about as I drive home.

I’m thinking about her.

Those long legs, stockings, perky tits—but most of all, the way it felt when she kicked me.

She fights like a devil, I smirk, reaching between my legs to feel my cock, swollen and hungry. And I want to be the one who finally pins her.