Chapter 12
FURY
Early morning meetings weren’t my thing. At least not on the mornings when I woke up next to my wife. I planned to make that known to Sonya as soon as this marketing meeting was over because Dakota sleeping next to me every night until the end of time was non-negotiable.
I got the call yesterday afternoon that she’d sent the movers away without packing up a thing at her house, and since I was seeing her for dinner, I hadn’t immediately sent them back.
It had been my intention to discuss it last night during dinner, but her questions once I arrived and the mood that followed shifted my plans.
My top priority would always be her well-being.
She wasn’t acting like herself when I arrived.
I mean, yeah, she looked amazing standing in that kitchen preparing our meal while dressed in a silk robe and her bare feet.
She looked sexy and edible as fuck so understandably, my mind had quickly strayed from the serious conversation of where we would live together …
because there was no doubt that would be our future arrangement.
Timers and the looming possibility of burnt rolls interrupted a very promising welcome home interlude, then her demeanor changed.
Her eyes took on that look of trepidation I’d seen before but had been either too love struck, or too intent on making the most of the time we were together to delve into its meaning.
I wasn’t ignoring it again. I also had no idea that the thing she was so worried about was how I would react to knowing she’d shot a man. Three men to be exact.
Me? Fury Mathias, who caught my first body when I was twelve and who was now well into the double digits of deaths by my hand.
From day one Dakota had known exactly who I was and what I did, the fact that me judging her had been a weight on her mind was still wild to me.
I was dead fuckin’ serious when I told her that shit turned me on.
Not her suffering or the obvious distress in her tone as she told the story, but the vision of her standing over the muthafucka that pointed a gun to her brother’s head and shooting him in the chest had my dick rock hard.
That shit could only be attractive to a like-minded person … a killer.
“With two big rollouts this year, Blackbond is primed for success. Keeping our primary focus on quality luxury vehicles and bikes, we are routinely meeting our goals. So, as we begin to gear up for the L.A. Auto Show and World Car Awards, then the AMA’s my team and I have developed two brand specific, high-energy presentations that will once again set the tone for the industry. ”
Isabella Gabriel, my Chief Marketing Officer, spoke above the light chatter that had been buzzing around me as I sat at the head of the table in one of the large conference rooms. Her intro speech meant everyone had arrived and the meeting was officially started.
I’d been in my head since coming in and taking my seat, but now I sat up straighter and attempted to give her my full attention.
All department heads from the two branches of Blackbond Automotive were in attendance.
KC and his team on the automotive side were on the left of me, while my team which focused on the bikes were to my right.
Isabella stood at the front of the room, black-framed glasses perched on her nose, glossy black hair falling in waves over her shoulders.
Fifteen minutes in, when the lights dimmed and the presentation began, my mind once again drifted to Dakota.
She felt so good in my arms this morning.
Not just while we lay in bed, but as I stepped behind her as she stood at the sink performing her skincare routine.
Her beauty was natural. From her flawless skin to her vibrant hazel eyes, those high cheekbones, and that spot just beneath her ear that I loved to bite, I adored everything about this woman.
I couldn’t keep my hands off her and immediately wrapped my arms around her waist, gripping her breasts as I pulled her back against me.
Of course, that meant it was another forty minutes before we finally made it downstairs.
She was wrapped in a longer black silk robe this morning, not that sexy ass short one from last night.
I was in a maroon jogger set and tennis shoes that I grabbed from the closet she’d assigned me at her house.
I thought I had suits there for work, but I was wrong and would have to run home to change.
Still, I took the time to pull her into me again as we stood at the door.
I absolutely loved hugging Dakota.
I loved the way her scent filled my nostrils the second my arms closed around her.
The way her breasts pressed into my chest and her ass filled my hands.
And when she wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, snuggling her face into me, my heart stopped for a second.
Like it was waiting for precisely this moment to resume beating in a pattern that matched hers.
This was the thing about us being together; Dakota didn’t need me to take care of her.
Not financially because she was a fuckin’ Donovan with a seven-figure bank account before she could even crawl.
Not with her career because she’d always known some sort of science was her thing and she’d built Apocalypse into the brand and financial success it was now.
And not really mentally because despite the trauma of her past, she knew exactly who she was and who she wanted to be.
I was the same. Different route; same successful result.
So we met on equal terms. Came together because of a mutual desire.
But we clicked because she filled the darkest, most secret place in me.
She fed the most vulnerable part of the beast. With just her smile or the unintentional way her bare feet slapped across my tiled kitchen floor while she cooked cheesy eggs and fried bologna the morning after we first slept together.
How her brain fired on all cylinders whenever I spoke about my plans for the company and how she worried over KC with the same intensity that I did even though his blood didn’t run through her veins.
That’s how I knew she was my one. She was that piece to the puzzle that I’d sworn my mama had swept up and tossed in the trash because I forgot to clean my room. She was my light, my fire, my all.
Her legacy was built on the Donovan brothers’ stable hands whose work ethic and integrity garnered the gift of land that eventually struck oil. It was of a Black family breaking barriers, standing through adversity and thriving in a world that wouldn’t respect or protect them.
Mine was of brothers by choice who realized the illegal path was their only hope for fruition.
Two like-minded individuals fed up with the systemic chaos created to keep Black people in a place of hopelessness and despair.
Of an enterprise designed to feed those trapped in bindings not of their own making while using the same devices created to break them.
Did the Ryders do illegal things? Yes, back in the day prohibition and racketeering provided the funding for what would eventually become food banks in poor cities, day care centers so single mothers could make a living to feed their children and group homes for teens on the verge of corruption.
Cocaine and pills eventually entered the scene, but my pops wasn’t about the continuous poisoning of his people, so his focus was always on expansion and meaningful connections.
That took the Ryders into pharmaceutical clinics that catered to the wealthy who wanted a cleaner but still effective habit.
Chop shops where instead of corner boys they trained elite thieves once again targeting the rich who flaunted but never considered sharing their wealth.
From there, money laundering, casinos and weapons morphed into the Ryders’ main sources of income.
Now we were an empire with more legal ventures than illegal and more influence than most politicians who barely worked for their generous paychecks.
And Dakota ran an upstanding biohazard cleaning company that serviced universities, government contracts, hospitals, and the underworld.
Did I mention we were a match made in heaven?
Clapping around the table jerked me from my thoughts and my gaze shot to the screen where the Pantheon Collection was featured.
Midway down the table, Nash grinned and nodded, accepting the ‘congratulations’ and ‘good jobs’ being tossed his way.
I smiled because I was proud of what he’d produced as well.
I was about to tell him so again when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I didn’t allow phones out during our meetings, so there was nothing on the long conference room table except for notepads, pens, and cups of coffee or glasses of water.
“I want one of each, all in black,” KC said from the other side of the table. “That Isis one is sweet!”
“It definitely is,” Isabella replied, shifting her full attention to KC.
When he returned her gaze with a lustful look of his own, I shook my head.
Now I was gonna have to pull his ass up again about getting involved with our staff.
The last thing I wanted to deal with was a sexual harassment lawsuit, and the last thing KC needed was another fuckin’ stalker.
His longtime on again, off again girlfriend, Joy, was going to kill him one of these days.
I liked Joy, so I didn’t want to have to put a bullet in her head for hurting my brother.
“The rollout for the collection needs to be stellar,” I said to break their eye-fuckin’ session. “Let’s see what your team has come up with.”
Clearing her throat, Isabella quickly turned her attention back to that clicker in her hand. “Yes, yes. That’s up next. The rollout starts in four weeks. We’re going to focus on a hybrid strategy of high-quality digital engagement and local community integration.”