Making my way back down the stairs, I clenched my jaw as every step I took sent pain jarring up through my leg. I reached into my pocket for my bottle of tramadol, unscrewed the cap to tip a couple out, and dry swallowed the tablets. I was going to need something stronger soon, though normally the tramadol combined with a couple of hefty shots of whiskey was enough to dull the pain to a tolerable level.
I went to grab a drink. My kitchen was rarely used. I ate out, or I ordered in. The fridge was for booze, and that was about all. Was that going to have to change with a woman in the house? Was she going to get all domestic on me and expect us to have romantic, candlelit suppers together? I snorted at the idea. That wasn’t how I worked. But she was going to expect to eat. Did that mean I’d have to take her out with me when I went out? Would she see that as a date? I hadn’t thought about this at all.
Would Hallie want to please me? I pictured her on her knees, desperate to do whatever it took to ensure this wedding went ahead. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t feel the swell of power inside me. She could always flip things on their head and make life so unpleasant for me that she forced me to be the one to call things off, but even in the short time of meeting her, I could tell that wasn’t something she’d do. She was a classic good girl, and it would be up to me to send her running. But in the meantime, I fully intended to have some fun with her.
She said she and Harvey hadn’t had sex, but she hadn’t said she’d never had sex at all.Couldthe girl up in my bedroom be a virgin? If so, it would be an easy way to scare her off. I could make her first time as rough as possible, forcing her legs apart, entering her dry, pinning her down by her throat and choking her. I could disturb her enough that she’d be terrified of it happening again and would run back to her daddy.
Though this seemed like a sensible plan, it also felt like a terrible waste. I had a girl who would do whatever it took to marry me in my bedroom right now. I could have her on her knees with my cock down her throat whenever I wanted and tell her to spread her legs while I slid my dick into that sweet virgin cunt at any time of the day or night.
My mobile buzzed, and I took it out of my pocket and swiped to answer.
“Sly,” I said, already knowing it was my cousin. “How’s tricks?”
“The Foxtail is landing at three a.m. We’re good to go.”
“Excellent.” I hung up again.
Despite the constant rage and grief that I carried around with me at the loss of my brother, business still had to be done. The Cornells might be at the heart of everything, but we had so many moving parts that relied on us, that it wasn’t as simple as telling people we were taking time out to grieve for our lost loved one. In our kind of business, people lost those they cared about all the time. Death was simply a part of the job. If we called time on things whenever someone died, nothing would ever get done.
Harvey hadn’t just been a someone, though, I reminded myself. He’d been a Cornell, and because of that I knew he would have wanted things to continue as usual. One thing Harvey had loved was money.
A large shipment of forged bank notes was being landed at a port on the Thames in the early hours of the morning. We washed the money through the legitimate businesses we owned in the city, such as one of my nightclubs, to put the cash safely through the books. Physically moving the money around was the most dangerous part of the job. A container full of bank notes would get the wrong kind of attention if it was seen, but the moment we picked it up and divided it out between us, it was far less likely to raise any eyebrows. A few hundred grand for a night’s work. I wasn’t going to complain about that.
Movement came in the doorway, and I turned to find Hallie standing there. Her long red curls fell over her shoulders, and she’d changed into skin-tight black leggings and a white cropped top that exposed her taut stomach and made her tits look even bigger than they were. Her feet were bare, and I fought a sudden urge to push her onto a chair and suck her toes into my mouth.
“What are you doing?” I asked her.
She shrugged and pouted prettily. “Nothing. I was done upstairs so I wanted to see what you were up to.”
I hoped she wasn’t going to follow me around. I didn’t need some girl interrupting me all the time.
“One thing we’re going to need to get clear is that you’re going to need to give me some space. I don’t want to have to entertain you all the time.”
She glanced around as though I’d bored her. “What is there to do, anyway?”
“TV, internet. Just the usual.” I jerked my head at her. “Now turn around.”
“Why?”
“I want to see how your arse looks in that getup.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Fuck off.”
I smirked. She’d probably tell me she’d changed her clothes for comfort, but there must have been a tiny part of her who’d known exactly what parts of her body she was showing off and who’d they’d be shown off to.
“I’m going to be working later tonight so you’ll have the house to yourself. Remember, until we’re married, this is my property. Don’t go poking around my stuff.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m not interested in your things.”
I didn’t tell her I had hidden surveillance cameras around the place. I hadn’t installed them because of her—they’d been here for years. Working in the business I did, I couldn’t ever trust anyone fully, and if I ever returned home to find something was out of place, I’d always be able to scroll back through the footage to make sure no one had been in here without my knowledge. Now, though, I thought I could have a little fun with them. I wondered what she’d do if she thought she was here alone.
“Can I invite a friend around while you’re gone?” she asked.
“No. This is my house. I never told you to treat it like your own.”
“So, I’m supposed to just sit around by myself?”
I pouted for her. “Aww, you going to miss my company, sweetheart?”