Desire Me (Her Best Friend's Father Book 4)
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Desire Me
Her Best Friend's Father #4
Ayden K. Morgen
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2019 by Ayden K. Morgen
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Editing and Formatting by: Serapis Publishing Services
Cover Photo by: dimabi
Cover by: FNG Designs
Dedication
This one is for you. Thanks for loving my filthy ATF agent and his girl as much as you do.
Table of Contents
Author's Note
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Fight for You: Excerpt
Kill for You: Excerpt
Acknowledgements
Also Available
About the Author
Author's Note
This final part of Mila and Roman's story takes place after events in Rapture (The Teplo Trilogy #3). While I tried to ensure you could read this book without having read that one first, I recommend reading it first.
I began writing Roman's story as a way to get to know him before he appeared in that book. Little did I know that his story was much, much bigger than I expected. I also didn't expect it to continue after the timeline for his story merged with the timeline in the Teplo Trilogy. But Roman never does anything I expect, so perhaps I shouldn't be surprised.
I hope you enjoy the final part of his and Mila's story.
Prologue
Roman
I hate dealing with the media. Let me be clear about that right now. So how I got roped into attending a press conference with Finn Bethel—my boss—and Jason Ames, I don't know. But as soon as we step through the doors, I'm ready to turn around and walk right back out. It's bright. Loud. Crammed with over fifty reporters chomping at the bit for answers I don't want to give them. It doesn't help that I've been up longer than I care to think about. I'm not in the mood for this shit right now.
"I hate you," I mutter to Finn.
He shoots me a tight smile and shakes his bald head, making it clear this isn't his favorite part of the job either. "Suck it up, buttercup," he says out of the corner of his mouth, barely moving his lips.
Jason Ames, the Assistant Special-Agent-in-Charge of the Seattle branch of the DEA, snorts from his other side. Like me, he's got his arms crossed over his chest, making it obvious he doesn't particularly want to be here either. Unfortunately for him, one of his agents just killed a man. And one of ours—a DEA agent that's been embedded with our gang taskforce and SWAT team for years—is on the run.
Like I said…I'm not in the mood for this shit.
We're not even to the front of the room when reporters start shouting out questions.
My head throbs at the clamor, but Finn takes it all in stride, not reacting as he jogs up the steps to the podium. Ames and I take up positons on either side of him. The room is packed with reporters, smartphones and microphones thrust in our direction. Cameras and cameramen line the back of the room. It's hot as hell in here and reeks of perfume, causing the dull throb behind my right eye to intensify.
"If everyone will settle down, we'll get started," Finn says, adjusting the microphone at the podium until it's stretched to full height. Even then, he has to lean way over to speak into it. At well over six and a half feet tall, he looks more like a retired linebacker than the ATF agent in charge of the Los Angeles gang taskforce and SWAT team. He lays his arms over the sides of the heavy wood, his dress blues stretched to capacity over his broad chest and arms. His ebony skin gleans under the bright overhead lights. He looks imposing and authoritative.
The room slowly quiets as everyone takes their seats and shuts their mouths.
"Is it true that Elijah Noel was captured last night?" a man near the back of the room calls out before Finn can say anything.
"Was the Vetrov drug recovered?" someone else shouts.
Several others call out questions too, the brief silence quickly rising to a dull roar again.
Finn holds up a hand, but they talk over him.
I roll my eyes and snort. Reporters have no manners. It’s one of a thousand reasons I hate dealing with them.
"If you'll settle down and let me talk, I'll answer your questions," Finn barks a moment later, his deep voice booming across the room in that no-nonsense tone that never fails to make grown men cower. He uses it when his men are pissing him off.
The reporters snap to as quickly as our team does, settling down with a soft murmur.
"Approximately three weeks ago, we received word that the Vetrov drug, created by Elijah Noel and Anton Vetrov in Seattle, Washington earlier this year, had been linked to two deaths in Southeast Los Angeles," Finn says when everyone shuts up again. "Special Agent Tristan Riley with the Seattle field office flew in to assist Special Agent Roman Gregory of the ATF, who is here with us today, in tracking down the drug," he says and then nods in my direction.
The fucker.
I glare everywhere but at the fifty people now staring me down. Sweat trickles down my back and my heart thumps unevenly. I've been working undercover so long, being outed as a federal agent still feels inherently wrong to me, but that ship sailed four months ago when Jose Guerrero kidnapped my fiancée and daughter. Thanks to his machinations, along with those of Elijah Noel, Los Angeles has been on the brink of an all-out gang war ever since. I've had no choice but to step into a more public role. I hate it almost as much as I fucking hated working undercover.
I don't let my discomfort show though.
Fuck giving them anything else to talk about. Finn's about to give them plenty as it is.
"Unfortunately, before they were able to locate Elijah Noel or the Vetrov drug, Agent Riley's wife, Lillian Riley, was taken against her will." Finn exhales a sharp breath, his anger evident in the way he clenches his hands. "We've since learned that a local DEA agent and member of the gang taskforce, Remi Pledger, was responsible for the abduction of Lillian Riley."
Stunned silence hangs in the air for a brief moment before all hell breaks loose. Reporters all across the room jump to their feet, shouting questions like machine-gun fire. The dull roar climbs to migraine inducing levels.
I stand back and shake my head, wondering how the fuck anyone ever gets anything done like this. They aren't even waiting for Finn to answer their first question before they shout a follow-up. With so many voices talking at all once, it's impossible to make sense of any of it.
Finn stands silently, not even attempting to shut them up. He doesn't even try to speak over them. He just lets them shout questions until they run out of steam and the roar slowly fades.
"We now have reason to believe that Remi Pledger has been working as an operative for Pedro Francisco and el Cártel de Francisco through el Demonio, the street gang Francisco operates here in Los Angeles."
Another round of ra
pid-fire questions blast through the room. I glance over Finn's head at Ames to see him staring straight ahead. Like Finn, he doesn't even acknowledge the pandemonium in the room, only waits silently for it to abate. A muscle in his jaw ticks though. Underneath that stoicism he dons like a mask, he's as pissed as anyone else, more so, maybe. Tristan Riley isn't just a member of his team in Seattle, but is his cousin by marriage. Ames is livid that Lillian was taken.
Truthfully, we're all pissed about it. I'm the reason she was even in Los Angeles to begin with. I told Finn to get her and Tristan here when it became clear that el Demonio’s plans for Los Angeles were far more insidious than I could ever have imagined. Jose Guerrero and Elijah Noel were working together to hand this city to Francisco. While Guerrero was starting a gang war here, Elijah Noel was in Seattle, creating a dangerous new drug with the intention of setting up distribution here. Both were working on orders from Francisco, who intended to make Los Angeles his new base of operations. We stopped them and recovered the drug, but it galls that Lillian was taken from my home by a member of my team because I brought her here.
"Last night," Finn says when everyone is finally silent again, "Agent Riley, along with Agent Gregory, and Agent Michael Kincaid, who is also stationed in the DEA's Seattle office, obtained information on the whereabouts of Remi Pledger, Elijah Noel, and Lillian Riley. They swiftly made entry to rescue her. During their rescue attempt, Elijah Noel was shot and killed."
I grind my teeth together at the reminder of that shit show. Elijah Noel forced Tristan to kidnap three local gang members to hand over to him or he was going to kill Lillian. Tristan did what he had to do to save his wife and end the threat Noel posed.
"What about Lillian Riley?" a woman at the back of the room shouts.
"Mrs. Riley sustained serious injuries and is currently under medical care."
Remi and Noel beat the hell out of her, leaving her face so bruised and swollen, she didn't even look like the same brave little ballerina I met a few weeks ago.
"Who shot Elijah Noel?" a man near the front asks.
"Elijah Noel attempted to shoot Agent Riley. During a scuffle over the weapon, Elijah Noel was killed," Finn says and then quickly continues before anyone else can ask him for more details than they're going to get today. It didn't go down exactly that way, but close enough. Noel tried to shoot Tristan, so Tristan beat the hell out of him and then killed him. "The Vetrov drug has also been recovered. Unfortunately, Remi Pledger was not located. We're encouraging anyone with information on his whereabouts or anyone who comes into contact with him to notify authorities. He should be considered armed and dangerous. Do not attempt to engage."
"What kind of injuries does Lillian Riley have?" someone asks.
Finn holds up a hand. "Elijah Noel's death, as well as the circumstances surrounding Mrs. Riley's abduction, is still under investigation. We ask for patience while we do our jobs and sort out the facts. We also ask for privacy for Agent and Mrs. Riley during this time. We will not be releasing any further information on her condition."
A round of displeased grumbling flows through the room.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
"How long was Agent Pledger working for Pedro Francisco?" someone asks.
"Is there any truth to the rumors that the current gang war was initiated on Francisco's orders?"
"Was Elijah Noel working on orders from Francisco?"
"Yes, we have confirmed that Elijah Noel was one of Francisco's operatives. And yes, we do believe that Francisco and Noel, as well as Jose Guerrero who was killed four months ago, were behind the current unrest in Los Angeles," Finn answers. "However, we're hopeful that this latest development will ease some of the tension that's turned Los Angeles into a hotbed of gang activity in recent months. With Elijah Noel's reign of terror at an end, we'll be working to heal the wounds he caused and end the violence that's torn our city apart."
"How much of the drug was recovered?"
"We estimate the street value to be close to one million dollars," Finn answers.
"Is it true that Nazario Leyva was spotted at the scene last night?"
Nazario Leyva, a Colombian cocaine prince and drug kingpin, was there, though not entirely by choice. Neither was Oscar Fuentes or Romulo Alcazar, two powerful cartel-backed gang leaders in Los Angeles. Instead of telling everyone that Tristan essentially kidnapped them, Finn ignores that question, citing the ongoing investigation.
"Are the rumors true that Arturo Cervantes and Vicente Carrera were also abducted by Elijah Noel?" Like Leyva and Fuentes, Cervantes and Carrera lead local gangs with close ties to cartels. Noel kidnapped them both, though I'm still not clear precisely what he intended to do with them.
"Yes. Both men have been recovered and are in police custody at this time," Finn says. Before anyone else can ask any questions he holds up a hand. "When we know more, so will you. Thank you for your time."
"Agent Gregory!" a ballsy reporter in the back shouts to me as we start to descend the steps off the stage. "How do you feel about that fact that your own teammate might be partially responsible for what happened to your fiancée and daughter four months ago?"
I snap my gaze in her direction, rage shooting through me at the reminder. How do I feel about it? I'm going to fucking kill Remi Pledger when I find him. That's how I feel about it. I don't tell her that though. I just glare at her until she gulps and drops heavily into her seat.
No one else dares ask me anything about Mila, Talia, or what happened four months ago. No one else is stupid enough to try.
Chapter One
Mila
"Mila, you are not coming back to Los Angeles right now," Roman growls into the phone. The heat in his deep voice rips through me, hitting me hard. At six-six and almost three hundred pounds of pure muscle, my giant of a man is intimidating as hell, but there is nothing hotter than he is when he's pissed.
A shiver of desire rolls through me even as frustration has me slamming a hand down on my hip in the middle of the kitchen and growling right back at him. "Yes, I am!"
He rattles off a string of curses, and I can just imagine him tipping his head back to glare up at the ceiling, a storm raging in those gorgeous blue eyes of his. I wish he was here so I could see them. Even if he is pissing me off—which he is most definitely doing right now—I miss him.
I haven't seen him in over two weeks. He's been in Los Angeles, helping Tristan Riley hunt down one of Pedro Francisco's men, while I've been under guard in Santa Cruz. I'm glad Roman was able to help Tristan find the man and save Lillian, but I haven't set foot in Los Angeles since Jose Guerrero kidnapped me and Talia McPherson—Roman's daughter and my best friend—four months ago. I'm ready to go home.
Guerrero is long gone, and Agent Riley killed Elijah Noel a couple days ago. Even el Demonio, the street gang that helped Guerrero do Pedro Francisco's bidding, is running scared.
I'm ready for us to get on with our lives, but like usual, Roman's being overprotective. If he had his way, I'd never see L.A. again. He doesn't want me anywhere near Los Angeles while Remi Pledger is still running free. I understand where he's coming from—the man kidnapped Lillian, for God's sake—but I'm pregnant, I'm hormonal, and I am done spending so much time apart.
"Baby, you are not coming home right now," he says.
"Yes, I am, baby."
He huffs out a frustrated chuckle. "Have I ever told you that you're the most frustrating woman I have ever met in my entire fucking life?" he asks.
"Yes. You always tell me that," I mutter, refusing to be swayed by the way his tone softens, amusement bleeding through. He might deny it, but we both know he gets off on the fact that I challenge him. He loves that I fuck with him just to rile him up. That's not what this is about though. "I miss going to sleep with you at night and waking up with you in the mornings. I just want to be with you. I miss you, Roman," I whisper, hating the way emotion chokes me. At a little over five months along, I should be over the crying stage of preg
nancy, but no. Everything makes me cry. It's annoying.
"Fuck," he rumbles in that deep voice of his. "I miss you too, Mila."
"Then let me come home," I plead with him, turning my back on the living room so Evan Arias, my bodyguard-slash-babysitter, doesn't see me wiping tears. He handles them about as well as Roman does…which means as soon as I start crying, he calls Roman, who overreacts.
"I want you with me so fucking badly it hurts," Roman says, his tone gentle and pained at once, "but Remi kidnapped Lillian. They beat the hell out of her. Don't ask me to risk your safety when he's still out there, baby. You know I can't do that."
I flinch at his words, my heart aching for Agent Riley's wife. I've been on the receiving end of el Demonio's kindness. Jose Guerrero shot me before Roman killed him. I've spent the last few months in physical therapy, trying to regain strength in my arm. I thought I was going to lose the baby, which was complete and total hell. I still sometimes worry that something might happen to the baby because of what happened to me, but my pregnancy is progressing normally. Right before Roman was called back to Los Angeles and all hell broke loose we found out we're having a little girl.
"Fine," I mumble into the phone, knowing he isn't going to change his mind on this. He doesn't want me back in Los Angeles. That shouldn't hurt my feelings because I know how much he loves me…but it hurts my feelings anyway. "I'll stay here."
"Mila–"
"It's fine," I say, hating the way my voice hitches, giving away the lie.
"Mila–"
Someone calls his name in the background.
"Fuck," he mutters, his voice hard. He says something to whoever is with him, his voice muffled and then he comes back on the line. "Baby, I have to go to a debriefing."
"Okay," I mumble, still fighting the stupid urge to cry. "I love you, Roman."