King's Command (Fire & Vice Book 3)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Other books by Nikita Slater
Copyright © 2016 Nikita Slater
Smashwords Edition.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Book three of Fire & Vice
King’s Command
by Nikita Slater
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Other books by Nikita Slater
CHAPTER ONE
Tyson King felt her presence the moment she stepped across the threshold and into the city’s most dangerous illegal gambling den. His shoulders stiffened as he glanced up and spotted her. Tyson didn’t so much as twitch a muscle to give away his sudden tension, but his bodyguard, Daniel Mercer, went instantly to attention and scanned the room. Tyson knew the moment his deadly man set eyes on Claudia Cantore, because his alarm dropped and he relaxed back into position behind Tyson.
Tyson forcibly quelled the surge of jealous rage that flared to life as male eyes all over the room focused on her. The tall, beautiful blond was starting to draw stares from some of the city’s most dangerous men. Tonight Claudia had packed her delicious curves into a thigh length blue bandage dress with her waist length honey-coloured hair flowing loose around her bare shoulders. Her long legs were made longer by the four-inch spiked, black heels she wore.
His rational self acknowledged that she was a stunning woman who drew stares no matter where she went. Still, he found himself wanting to stalk across the room toward her, drag her home and spank her ass for daring to wear that dress in public, let alone in a room full of hardened males with power-privilege complexes. The only thing stopping him was that she had no idea who he was or why he felt the intense need to keep her locked away for himself.
He watched her, his dark eyes following every movement of her graceful body, every breath she took in that tiny dress. His calculating brain went over his acquisition plan once more, assuring himself he would eventually possess the woman who had consumed his thoughts these past three months. He didn’t become a billionaire from rash behaviour, but from calmly, ruthlessly acquiring things that made him rich. Now he applied that strategy to something that he wanted: Claudia Cantore.
Her eyes met his. He didn’t break his stare, enjoying the tiny flare to her eyes before she nervously broke contact and turned to her friend, Anastasia Sitnikov, to speak in low tones. When Anastasia turned to look where her friend was gesturing, he saw the recognition and instant alarm on her petite features. Interesting. The mob princess knew exactly who he was and of his ruthless reputation.
Unfortunately, he suspected she was in the process of telling Claudia to keep her distance from him, which would make his plans to woo the blond beauty slightly more difficult. He had enough information on his quarry to potentially blackmail her into his bed, but he had planned on using more subtle measures. There was a softness to her – of looks and personality – and he didn’t want to spoil it. He wanted her willing.
Tyson rapidly calculated the odds of Claudia coming to him easily with Anastasia’s condemnation now contaminating any future contact between them. Claudia was a suspicious woman, if somewhat naïve. Her colourful past leant her an edge, despite her softness. She didn’t make friends easily, and the fact that she willingly followed the Sitnikov girl into a seedy gambling den told him that she would listen to her friend when she told her to stay away from Tyson King.
With an annoyed sigh, Tyson picked up his water glass and swallowed half of the liquid before placing the glass carefully on the table. He wanted a cigar, but smoking wasn’t allowed in the club, an amusing fact considering the illegal nature of the underground casino’s existence. Khalid Mahdavi, the current owner, didn’t enjoy the smell stinking up his establishments. Tyson’s finger twitched around the unopened Cohiba he had placed on the table in anticipation of a smoke break before his next round.
The smoke would have to wait. He wasn’t willing to leave Claudia in the room unprotected with some of the most unscrupulous men the city could scrape up. His eyes tracked the woman as she followed her smaller friend across the floor toward a table with two empty spots. He frowned fiercely, disliking the way she so easily turned her back on him, dismissing him from her thoughts once Anastasia had warned her away. As the women approached, the men at the table all but drooled on themselves in their hurry to have two attractive ladies buy into their game. Tyson wanted to murder them all.
Movement at the small bar set in the corner of the club caught his attention, tearing his eyes from Claudia. Another man watched her with an intensity that instantly had Tyson’s blood pressure rising. But this guy wasn’t watching her the way the others were. His greedy eyes were cold with material lust over sexual interest. His eyes devoured her every move, like she was his payday. Shit. Tyson had hoped he’d have more time.
He leaned back, big body causing the chair underneath him to creak in protest, and turned his head to Mercer who leaned in to listen. “My plans involving the woman have changed. See the Hispanic man at the bar?” Mercer nodded, his deadly gaze riveting to the guy whose eyes were on King’s woman. The guy took out a cell phone and dialled as the two men watched. “Get Mike to bring the car around. She may not exit willingly. Be ready, I want this smooth and quiet.”
Mercer nodded in understanding and straightened, pulling his phone out to text the driver. The ex-guerrilla knew how to read situations with brutal clarity. Knowing Tyson’s interest in Claudia Cantore, he probably assumed the plans had changed the moment she stepped foot in the club, a place she clearly didn’t belong, where trouble could so easily find her. If Mercer were known for softer emotions, let alone any kind of emotion, he might feel pity for the woman who had unknowingly captured the attention of the city’s kingpin.
The two women had joined a lower stakes poker game and played for several minutes when Tyson noticed an irate Asher Bowles stalking toward the game, his eyes locked on the women. Tyson tensed, as did Mercer at his back. Mercer may have become friendly with the lethal fighter, but he knew his boss wasn’t going to allow interference with the woman, which was part of the reason Tyson utterly trusted the deadly bodyguard. Mercer’s last loyalty always lay with Tyson King.
Ash approached the table and stood directly behind Anastasia Sitnikov’s chair, staring down at her with a mixture of fury and intense longing. This was an interesting development that Tyson woul
d have to look into further. So far as he had known, Ash and the Sitnikov girl had no common interests. She tended to lay low for the most part, well hidden under her brother’s protective wing. Unless the Russian’s were looking for a new fighter to add to their roster; Ash was the best the state had to offer.
Tyson watched dispassionately as Anastasia turned in her chair to confront the big man that looked like he both wanted to tear her apart and eat her up. She looked coldly dismissive of whatever Ash was saying to her, which visibly infuriated the usually unflappable man. Interesting.
Claudia had been watching the exchange between the two with hesitant interest, her green eyes wide with frightened uncertainty. Anastasia took her hand and stood with Claudia to face Ash. They were two small morsels facing off with the lethal championship fighter.
Tyson stood and jerked his head toward the exit. “Meet me at the car.”
Mercer nodded and, without another glance around, followed Tyson’s orders, both spoken and unspoken. He would make sure his boss and the woman could make a swift and quiet exit.
Tyson kept his eyes glued to the situation unfolding across the room as he stalked around tables to reach Claudia. Though he had no idea what was happening between Ash and the Russian girl, he wasn’t impressed that his woman was being dragged into things. It would likely save Ash’s life that he, and the rest of the city besides Mercer, had no clue that Tyson King was staking a claim on Claudia Cantore. Once the news became known, anyone that dared speak to her without his permission would face swift and brutal consequences.
Claudia watched the conversation between her friend and the huge fighter with breathless anxiety. It was clear she had no idea what she could do to help Anastasia, but the woman attempted to back her friend both physically and verbally by snapping at Ash while clinging to her friend. Tyson hurried toward them, worried that Ash would strike out at the lovely blond trying to protect her friend. To his relief, Ash only looked darkly amused by her outburst.
Tyson arrived in time to prevent her from taking her tirade against Ash further. Sensing his presence behind her, Claudia tensed from head to toe and spun around to face him. Her wide eyes collided with his chest only inches from her face. She stared at him in shock and trepidation.
Satisfaction flooded him as she laid eyes on him up close for the first time. Her nervous gaze took in his massive proportions and widened in fear and curiosity.
“Is there a problem here?” his deep voice rumbled over her head.
Claudia stumbled back against Anastasia and watched as he challenged Ash. Tyson could only imagine what she thought of him. He was a big, dark-skinned, scarred up man who took what he wanted using any method that would work in his favour. As a result, violence surrounded him like a cloak, usually terrifying those that didn’t know him. Once they knew him better, and their opinions of his brutality were confirmed, they tended to think even more harshly of him. Usually that worked for him, but it was unfortunate that he might now frighten Claudia.
Ash didn’t back down. Instead, he nodded. “I need to have a conversation with my woman here, in private.”
King took in the situation at a glance. Ash had clearly staked his claim on Anastasia Sitnikov, which was perhaps a very stupid thing to do, given her mob connections, but Tyson had to admire his guts. He nodded, “I can take care of the other one.”
“No!” Claudia gasped.
Tyson swallowed his instant annoyance at her denial. He reminded himself that he would need to show a little patience with her. She didn’t know who he was or what he was capable of. Soon enough she would learn not to deny him anything, if she wanted to live a happy, comfortable life.
“Thanks man, I owe you,” Ash said, reaching for Anastasia and jerking her into his arms. He began dragging her away from the table toward the club exit.
“Hey!” Claudia cried out, starting to go after her friend. Tyson placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and pinned her in place. A shudder rippled through her body at the contact. His grip tightened and he had to remind himself to go gently now that he finally had Claudia Cantore in his grasp. He turned her around to face him.
Studying her face, he wrapped long, thick fingers around her slender throat and tilted her chin up with a caressing thumb. He watched the angry, frightened green eyes flare in challenge. He’d never wanted a woman more than he wanted this one. And he finally had the leverage he needed. It was perhaps a stroke of luck that the woman he’d been investigating since seeing her at one of the banks he owned several weeks ago happened to wander into the club he was about to purchase.
“Come,” he said to her, releasing her neck and taking a firm grip on her arm. “Let’s talk.”
Claudia gasped and went with him. He gave her no choice. She tried resisting his hold, but it was unbreakable. “We have nothing to discuss Mr. King,” she hissed. “Let go of my arm!”
Tyson gave her a predatory smile and said, “We have everything to discuss Miss Cantore. Starting with your protection fee. If I was able to find out who you are, it’s a certainty that other interested parties could also find out.”
As they walked Tyson indicated the man at the bar whose gaze never once wavered from his prey, the beauty in the blue dress. Tyson stared at the man with such cold malevolence the guy immediately turned away from them, hunching his shoulders and leaning against the bar. He spoke into his phone in rapid Spanish.
Claudia stared up at Tyson, understanding changing her expression from anger to absolute terror. She went with him unresistingly, but her tense body was still ready for flight. He held her tightly, enjoying the softness of her skin beneath his fingers. Fierce hunger burned within him as he touched her for the first time, admitting that the change in his original plan was a good thing. It was time to stop gathering information on Claudia and take the woman herself.
CHAPTER TWO
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Claudia tried to make her voice sound normal as she was steered toward the front entrance of the gambling club she had foolishly allowed herself to be dragged to.
Cool air washed over her heated skin when they stepped out of the club and into the dark night. She shivered and blinked several times, trying to adjust her eyes to the sudden darkness. The man that held her arm in a vice grip, Tyson King, ignored her words completely. He looked around impatiently, his sharp eyes taking in the traffic on the street, and then dragged her toward a car parked at the curb.
Another man, not as big as Tyson but just as frightening, opened the door to the car. This guy had a brutal, chilling look about him that made Claudia shiver. He looked like he ate babies for breakfast, women for lunch and Navy Seals for supper. There was no way she was getting in the car with these people. Claudia tried to pull away from Tyson, digging her heels against the pavement. Tyson stopped abruptly and looked down at her.
“Get in the car, Claudia,” he said calmly, as though he weren’t essentially kidnapping her.
A sudden thought sent spears of terror through her body. What if he was taking her to Dante, or worse, Franco Delgado? Both men had reason to want her dead. She had no idea what Tyson King’s connections might be, but she suspected his reach was far. The way he spoke of ‘protection’ made her think he knew at least part of her past.
“Please,” she said, looking up into his dark, forbidding face. “Just leave me here, I can find my own way home. I promise, I’ll go straight there and not return to this club ever again.” She would go straight home, grab some essentials and then get the first flight out of here.
Tyson’s gravelly laugh dashed her hopes of an easy escape. “You need to get in the car, beautiful. I’m not letting you go.”
His words sounded so final. He put more pressure on her arm, pushing her toward the open door of the car. In a desperate attempt to break his hold, Claudia threw her elbow back into his hard stomach and then wrenched her body sideways, away from the open door. Tyson’s breath whooshed out at the impact, but his grip didn’t slacken in the least
, nor did he move an inch when she threw herself away from him. All Claudia managed to accomplish was to knock herself off balance. If he hadn’t been holding her so tightly she would have hit the pavement hard. Instead, only her hand and the tips of her long blond hair grazed the ground.
With a grunt of annoyance, Tyson hauled her upright, then bodily picked her up as though she weighed no more than a child. Before Claudia could even think to struggle, the other man placed a hand on her head to protect her from the doorframe while Tyson shoved her through the door and climbed in the car behind her.
As the doors slammed shut, Claudia let out a scream of fear, which was immediately cut off by Tyson’s giant hand against her mouth. She began to struggle, reaching for the latch on the other door closest to her. He held her tightly against his huge body as the car pulled away from the curb and sped from the club.
Claudia’s struggles began to calm. Tyson’s hold was unbreakable and all she was managing to do was wiggle her body all over his chest and lap. Her chest heaved with fear and exertion. His scent, mint combined with a hint of cigar, enveloped her. Lightheadedness blurred her vision from his heavy hand cutting off most of her air supply and her body gradually relaxed into limpness.
“Will you scream if I move my hand?” his husky voice whispered in her ear.
Claudia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep the tears that sprang to her eyes at bay. She shook her head slightly in his tight hold. He eased the pressure as though to test her and then removed his hand completely when she didn’t scream. Her back was to his chest and his thick arm was wrapped around her middle. The bottom of her dress had hiked up a few very important inches in her struggle to be free. The result was a wealth of pale skin and long legs sprawled out over his knees. With her arms trapped at her sides, she couldn’t attempt to pull the skirt back down to a decent length. She tried squirming a little, hoping she might be able to loosen his hold in the roomy back seat so she could crawl off his lap.