“Explain,” I state.
Miles pulls his shoulders back to appear more professional, but I can see ahint of something in his eyes. It’s an emotion I can’t pinpoint, but he almost seems guilty.
“It turns out, Bruce, the arsehole dealer Mum was with before she died—the one responsible for her overdose—had a son. He has his mother’s name, and was estranged from his father, which is why we didn’t know about him until now.
“Apparently, his estrangement from his father was because of his mother, not through his own choice. He is mad that his father died before he got the chance to reunite with him.
“After looking into the circumstances surrounding his father’s death, although he believes it’s an overdose, he still blames me because my mother’s death caused Bruce to take the drugs he knew could be responsible for her OD.”
I shake my head at the absurdity of the situation. “I… What?” I can’t even find the words to sum up how mental that logic is.
Marcus looks equally baffled as he says, “Eddie, Bruce’s son, blames Miles for Bruce’s death, and he’s going after his only weakness—Courtney.”
At the mention of her name, ice floods through my veins, chilling me to the bone, and I have an overwhelming urge to protect her. “That’s utter bollocks.”
Miles nods in agreement, but now the sad guilt in his eyes makes more sense. He blames himself for his sister being in danger. Had he never killed Bruce, Eddie wouldn’t be going after Courtney.
“Eddie now works as a low-level dealer for the Santoros, so Marcus has used his ridiculous poker night with Jacob Santoro to secure permission for us to deal with him once he’s found,” Miles tells me.
I can’t help rolling my eyes as I slowly shake my head. “I may not agree with you doing business through a bloody poker bet, but on this occasion, it has resulted in a much more favourable outcome than if I were to try and broker a deal with Caleb Santoro, the stubborn arsehole. So I can’t complain too much.”
Marcus shrugs his shoulders as his smirk grows. “You may not approve of how we do things, but it’s working for us.”
I wave my hand at him dismissively, knowing we’ve had this argument several times before, and neither of us is going to change our stance. Though this is putting things in a slightly more favourable light than they were before.
“When you’ve located Eddie and captured him, I’d like to be involved in his punishment.” The words tumble out before I can stop them, and I’m not at all surprised when both boys look shocked by my statement.
It’s been a while since I’ve involved myself in the more unsavoury, violent side of our business, having handed that responsibility over to Marcus and Miles a couple of years ago. They’re younger than me, and much more keen to prove themselves.
But this situation is different… It’s personal. I’m starting to see Courtney as mine, and I don’t allow anyone to touch what’s mine. The need to protect her and keep her safe seems to grow the more I think about someone threatening her. She’s too sweet and innocent to be part of this world, and I refuse to allow anyone to taint her—other than me.
Despite the boys being shocked by my statement, they don’t question me about it. They simply agree to let me know when they’ve found Eddie.
Without trying to sound too desperate, I make it clear to them that locating him should be a priority for all involved. I don’t want this threat hanging over Courtney for any longer than is necessary.
The boys agree, and we move on to finalise some other business points, most of which I gloss over, barely paying attention to them. Once again, my mind drifts back to Courtney. It takes me a couple of seconds to notice that the boys have stood, intending to leave.
As soon as I’ve seen them out, I message my in-house security team to find out where Courtney is. I have cameras in most of my rooms, bathrooms and bedrooms being the only exceptions. Until now, I’ve been using them to avoid her, but now I have no intention of staying away, I use them to my advantage.
They tell me she’s in the main kitchen, and I don’t hesitate, walking straight to her, like she’s drawing me in. Although I have chefs who will prepare whatever she’d like at the drop of a hat, Courtney occasionally uses the kitchen to bake cookies or brownies.
I think it’s the baking process itself that distracts her, keeping her occupied, as she eats one or two, and then has Mrs Branch share the rest with any staff on duty. She makes sure to bring some for me to try too, and they’re always delicious.
If it’s a distraction she’s looking for, I have some much better ideas.
As soon as I reach the open kitchen door, I’m treated to a feast for the eyes, as Courtney is bent over, looking into the oven as she adjusts the temperature knob.
She’s wearing a pair of black shorts that stop high on her thighs, and from this position, I can make out the perfect swell of her arsecheeks. Her white vest top stops just above the waistband, showing off a patch of skin around her lower abdomen.
As she stands back up and turns around, she doesn’t noice me straight away, which gives me a little longer to admire how fucking gorgeous she is. The vest dips across her chest in the perfect way, hinting at her amazing cleavage. Her nipples poking through the soft fabric make it clear she’s not wearing a bra.
She has curves in all the right places, including her hips, and I’ve been dreaming about grabbing hold of them as I force her onto my cock. Her long blonde hair has been pulled up onto the top of her head into a messy bun, but several strands have fallen out, framing her face, whilst giving her a slightly chaotic look.
Her cheeks are flushed from the heat in the kitchen, and she’s got patches of flour across her chin and on her clothes. There are small beads of sweat on the very top of her forehead, which only add to her disheveled appearance.
When I’ve had my fill of looking at her, I clear my throat to alert her to my presence. She lets out a startled yelp as she jumps, turning to face me whilst holding up a whisk as if it were a deadly weapon.
When she sees it’s me, she lets out a sigh, and drops the whisk into the empty bowl on the kitchen counter behind her. “Hi,” she says shyly, giving me a small and extremely cute smile.
