Page 4 of A Deviant Queen

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Dad scoffs next to me, annoyed at my interrupting his scolding.

“Oh,” Donovan spits. “In a hurry to get back to your extracurricular activities?”

A bold statement in front of our already annoyed-as-fuck father, putting his best friend and me in the line of fire to take some of the heat off him. Fucker.

“I suggest you watch what comes out of your mouth next.”

Donovan eyes me with a mocking smirk, making my fucking blood boil.

“We need you to seduce the hacker Bastian Collins,” he announces.

My father sucks in a breath behind me while my brother’s body goes rigid. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t my brother and father whoring me out to the FBI to get information for them. I’m not a saint or above rolling around in the sheets, either, and modesty and shame aren’t on my list of characteristics. There isn’t much I won’t do for the business, for the family. But this is beyond anything I could’ve imagined.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he lets out a breathy sigh.

“There’s more. Agent Brenner has a playboy reputation, and he’ll likely try to pursue you—you need to keep your focus on Collins, Malia. We can’t afford for you to

stray from our plans and take matters into your own hands.”

“So, you want to use me for my fucking body?”

Dad groans in disapproval behind me while Donovan’s eyebrow quirks up. I never question or argue about missions. I argue about a lot of things, but never about getting shit done.

“I’m the daughter of The Olin Omen, Donovan. Do you honestly think they won’t know who I am? Especially someone who has some personal fucking vendetta against our

family. We don’t know what he knows. I look exactly like Dad, and he could have a whole-ass file with my goddamn name on it.”

“You’re a vicious little beast, big sister. You’re the best one for this job with your brains and beauty. The only one who can handle it, so long as you stick to the plan.”

“Donnie will be with you every step of the way,” Dad says, and I bark out a laugh. Donovan might physically be there every step, but that doesn’t commit the little fucker’s heart.

“Because that’s supposed to make me feel better. I want Reynolds if I’m fucking doing this. One Olin digging into this fed is risky enough; throwing us both in there is just fucking stupid.”

They talk over each other in their haste to correct me.

Donovan puffs up and decrees, “Absolutely not,” while Daddy scolds, “Watch your tongue, Malia!”

“Reynolds is beside me on this mission, or find yourself someone else to play bait,” I state.

Fucking seething, I stalk off before either of them can stop me. Half of Donovan’s issue with bringing Breckin in on this with me is our sexual relationship, and half is because Breckin will be a jealous cunt with me playing someone’s girlfriend.

I understand the risks and the concern, but I don’t appreciate or welcome the latter. Breckin will hold his tongue not to risk the mission, but it could be a problem on our side of things, especially mine. I need to get control of this situation somehow.

With no direction from me, my feet land me outside Breckin’s bedroom. The soft sound of classic rock playing behind the door confirms he’s still there. I walk in, not bothering to knock. Wearing only a towel, Breckin stands tall in the middle of the room; he must have just showered after finishing at the gym.

At first, he doesn’t notice me, and I stay still, watching him, this beautiful man I can’t love. This man who annoys the ever-loving fuck out of me with his affection. Why I can’t reciprocate those feelings, I’ll never know.

Breckin turns and catches me staring. There’s no surprise on his face at my sudden, quiet presence, only a questioning eyebrow. He watches me, studying my body language and face, looking for what I’m hiding—my unease.

He huffs out an annoyed sigh. “What are you doing here? Weren’t you in a meeting with Boss?”

I just keep looking at him. He knows the answers to both questions.

“Mal?” he asks, prompting me to give him something on what the fuck has me standing in front of him right now.

“I want you to finish what you started earlier. I need you.”

It’s a lie.

I don’t need him. I needed a distraction.

Breckin’s brown eyes darken with lust as he bites his bottom lip. He’s practically drooling, but he isn’t moving. I pull off my shirt, revealing my see-through white bra, which has him storming towards me. He quickly pulls me up by my thighs to wrap my legs around his waist, devouring my lips the second I’m face-to-face with him.

Using Breckin like this is wrong—so, so wrong. But, though I don’t love him like he wants me to, he makes me feel wanted for me. He wants more than my last name or the family I was born into.

My mind is heavy with thoughts of my father and brother seeing me as nothing but a weapon or toy to use as they see fit. A whore who will spread her legs for the good of the family and business. I’ve never questioned a mission, and I relish inflicting pain and torture. The only one getting her hands dirty is me. Fuck, I enjoy it. But I’m more than that. More than this.

I’m a fucking leader.


Tags: Charli Owen Romance