CHAPTER ONE
Mason Campbell was fucking bored.
Leaning his head back in the booth, he closed his eyes. Even the whiskey didn’t help to numb this feeling. At forty-five years old, he had everything he dreamed of having. Actually, he had a lot more than he ever dreamed of having. The music filled the air, not giving any real time to hear people talking, or to think, but he was able to drown it out.
His thoughts drifted back to when he was a kid. He had nothing. No parents, no real home, nothing to his name. The people at the foster homes he was bounced between had always told him he’d never amount to anything. He’d just go through life being a lazy drunk bum.
None of them had known the monster they would create.
Every single one of them had eaten their words because not only had he amounted to something, he was the most powerful man in the city, and everyone feared him, as they should.
No one would ever fucking oppose him. He’d make them all suffer and he’d do so gladly. He’d visited all those men and women from his past who dared raise a hand to him, allowed them to see just how powerful he’d gotten. He watched the fear fill their eyes, the panic, the understanding that he could, if he wanted to, take them out. He hadn’t. No.
He wasn’t a cruel man, but he made sure they never fostered any more children. From time to time, he’d make sure to be seen in their neighborhood, to keep instilling the fear. Of course, not all the men and women from his past had gotten an easy ride. He’d killed those he knew were dirty, filthy scumbags. Their deaths had been easy to handle.
Mason knew he had it all. Women fawned all over him. Most of them just wanted to earn the reputation of being with the most feared man in the city. It was fun in the beginning but that had long since lost its appeal. He had no interest in the sluts that vied for his attention.
The music in the nightclub changed, became sensual, almost erotic in nature. It was Valentine’s Day so he expected it, but something made him open his eyes and as he did, he saw her.
One woman, dressed in red. The bodice of her dress molded to her tits, and seemed to press them together to outline a perfect cleavage. The dress seemed to curve in at the waist before flaring out with the skirt seeming to have splits all around, giving a hint of leg or thigh. She had long, black hair, naturally curly, or so it seemed. No man was with her.
She had completely captivated an audience. There were couples on the dance floor trying to get their men’s attention away from the woman, but she didn’t seem to care who looked at her.
Her eyes were closed as she danced, moving her hips to the beat of the music, and it was hypnotic to watch. The people faded away and Mason watched her, imagining this dance was for him and him alone.
The woman oozed sex. It was like she was designed for a cock, his cock. He could
imagine putting his hands on her waist, thrusting his dick inside her, and riding her until she screamed his name and begged for more. Those lips, painted a dark red, would look so good wrapped around his length. An instant hit of heat rushed through his body and for the first time in months, Mason didn’t feel bored. He felt alive.
Tipping his whiskey to the back of his throat, he watched her. The couples on the floor moved out of her way as she let the beat of the music fill her body, and gave her the space to dance. She seemed almost untouchable.
He knew the song was coming to an end, and he’d never seen this woman before. She wasn’t a regular at his nightclubs and she certainly didn’t work for him.
When he clicked his fingers, one of his men quickly came to his side.
“Who is that woman?” he asked.
The man glanced at the dance floor and even he wore a flush to his cheeks. Her dancing had affected so many men.
All of her curves were barely on display, more of a glimpse here and there, nothing too revealing. Yet there were women wearing a hell of a lot less who were not getting a single bit of attention.
The music came to a close and the woman simply left the dance floor.
“I, er, I don’t know, sir.”
“Find out.”
Mason got to his feet, leaving his empty whiskey glass on the table, and made his way toward the bar, only to see the woman wasn’t there. She hadn’t gone to the bathroom, which meant she had left.
Stepping out of the nightclub, he spotted his man talking to the main bouncer controlling entrance to the club.
“Who is she?”
The bouncer looked terrified. This was a man completely covered in muscle but al
l it had taken was one question from him, and he was filled with fear.
“I … uh … I didn’t get her ID.”
He had one job to do.
One.
Not two or three.
Any other day, Mason wouldn’t give a shit. Underage kids tried to get into his club all the time. Any that got past the bouncer were often escorted out of the premises by cops. He was good like that, making sure parents were aware of what their little angels were up to. If a bouncer had let them in, he made sure that bouncer paid by moving him away from the door to do other work—the kind of work that involved threatening and breaking people who owed him money. Providing the jobs got done, he didn’t give a shit who did them. Looking down the street, he nodded at his man, and within minutes the bouncer was replaced.
Mason walked back into his nightclub.
The moment of boredom had passed. Now all he was focused on was finding that woman. He went straight to his security room. Stepping inside, he saw Michael, his computer whiz, sitting in the chair.
“Hey, boss man,” Michael said.
“Did you see the woman on the dance floor? Black hair, dressed in red?”
“Yeah, I did.” Michael laughed and immediately stopped as he looked at him. He cleared his throat. “Er, I might have seen her, sir.”
Mason stepped closer. “I want you to find her.”
“Sir? Did she not pay her bill?”
“She paid her bill but I want to know everything about her.” He was aware of Michael’s skills. The man could find anything with a few clicks on the keyboard. Mason had never been a computer genius. He always used the power of his fists and his mind. Many years ago he’d saved Michael from serving time. He called in a few contacts and several owed favors to keep him out of the firing line. Michael was loyal to him
, and only to him. It also helped that he’d played matchmaker, and Michael was a happily married man with two children.
Michael didn’t ask any questions, just leaned forward and began to click away at the keyboard. Mason watched as he found the image of her and began to run searches.
“Will I need to call in a few more favors?” he asked, knowing Michael wasn’t exactly going through the legal route.
“I’m covering my tracks, and besides, we’re not stealing anything. Just attempting to fill in the blanks.” He continued to type away.
The image of his goddess had been frozen on the screen. She hadn’t been dancing for anyone but herself. He saw that, even now. Her eyes were closed and when she did open them, she didn’t look anywhere or at anyone. Mason couldn’t help but wonder what her story was.
He hoped she wasn’t underage, getting a kick out of sneaking into a nightclub. Staring at that body, there was no way she was a child. She was all woman.
“I’ve got her,” Michael said.
Pulling his gaze from the screen, Mason looked to Michael, who’d been able to locate this mystery woman. He couldn’t help but smile.
His mystery woman was Holly Allan, a thirty-year-old librarian. Her hair was pinned back in the picture and she was also wearing a pair of glasses. At first glance, the two images looked nothing alike but Mason saw it. It was in the eyes.
“Email me all the details,” Mason said.
He would hunt for this woman and he was going to possess her. ...
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