Heart of Steele
By Alysha Huddleston
© 2018 Alysha Huddleston
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Chapter One
The knife skewered the image, pointed tip twisting into the face until all that was left was a headless mess gouged into the wooden surface.
Magnus felt the stares of his men standing along the walls of the small office, their hands clasped at their front, faces expressionless except a few whose blood pulsed through their novice veins with unease.
They would do whatever he ordered, but he didn't need their crude methods for this job. He needed someone who could slip into a role without attracting attention, lie credibly and keep it all straight.
He tossed the knife on the desk, the steel clattering with a hollow thud, and looked up at Jamie.
"She here?"
His voice was void of emotion, his rage under control as it always was. He was used to dealing with this shit, had dealt with this shit since the beginning, but this time he'd had enough.
He watched the older man uncross his arms and open the door, swinging it enough to gesture his head to the person on the other side.
The unhurried click of heels announced the woman before she sashayed into the room, straight raven hair cascading over bare shoulders, denim clad hips swinging like she was still ringside at one of his clubs.
She was striking; just like the others, but she held no appeal for him. Their relationship was strictly business.
Some of his strippers, or ex-strippers in this case, were nicer than others, but the genuinely sweet ones never lasted. They were all hardened and cynical; he would protect them, but he wouldn't touch them with a sterilized ten-foot pole.
Lana leaned forward and laid her palms on the desk, giving him a full view of the d-cup cleavage jutting from the tight white bodice of her lace top. Cheap perfume assaulted his nostrils.
"Magnus." She purred. "What can I do for you?"
She parted her lips and gave him the trademark sultry smile, like Marilyn Monroe on ecstasy, the kind he'd seen a thousand times on a thousand women. Practiced and predatory.
With a blank expression, he flicked his eyes at what she offered and brought his hard gaze back to her face, waiting for her to drop the act. At his obvious lack of interest, she lifted one brow and reshaped her lips from fuck me to fuck you and straightened.
Better. He leaned back in the chair. "I have a problem that needs a special touch. Something I don't want fucked up."
Her eyes darted to the knife and what was left of the picture in front of him. She looked wary, but Magnus could see her calculating.
"Sure." She said, her face non-committal.
"It's worth $10,000."
Interest flared in her guarded eyes. "Go on." She crossed her arms.
"I need you to pose as a law student at NYU." He pulled a picture out of a drawer and flipped it across the desk. "This is the girl you need to meet. She's in her last year."
She glanced at the picture. "Ok." Her tone was suddenly all business. "Then what?"
"When you've gained her trust, offer her your "family's" cabin. Make sure it's over the New Year and push it even if she turns it down, make it seem like she'll be doing you a favor."
"When will I get my money?"
Magnus reached down and pulled an envelope from a drawer and tossed it on the desk.
"The rest when she accepts the keys to the cabin. If she doesn't agree, you get nothing." He wouldn't tolerate failure.
She eyed the envelope but didn't pick it up. She wanted to negotiate.
In the early days of his business, when he was more boy than man, and had more balls than brains, he'd negotiate before he'd realized the person who held all the cards didn't need to bargain.
For Lana, this lesson seemed to be tough to grasp.
"Why me?"
There it was.
"Try to play me and the deal's off." His voice flat and hard as he held her avaricious gaze.
She didn’t move. After several seconds, she dropped her eyes and shrugged, swiping up the envelope.
"Her brother's a Fed so keep it smooth." He said, watching her.
She froze and Magnus raised one black eyebrow impatiently. "Is there a problem?"
She hesitated, momentary panic flitting through her expression before she scoffed. "No."
"Good."
He leaned forward, forearms on the desk. "Dante has you hacked into NYU's system as Jennifer Delaney. He's also set up a couple of social media accounts for you. See him before you leave."
She stuffed the envelope down her shirt and turned to go.
"Lana."
Pausing, she glanced back at him.
"Ditch the cheap perfume. It's law school, not a date with your pimp." The woman already oozed cheap sex. It wouldn't help to smell like it too.
She smirked and rolled her eyes. "Aren't you the gentleman?"
When she was gone, he sent everyone out except Jamie, who pulled up a chair across from him, brow creased in doubt.
"Are you sure about this?"
Magnus gritted his teeth as he stared at the picture of the young woman. "Moretti's left me no choice. His agents are everywhere, outside my apartment, spying on the clubs. I've had enough. We get to his family, and he won't bother us again."
"Involving family has never been your style."
"I've just changed my style."
Jamie studied him, then slowly nodded. "Ok." His tone was reluctant; that was Jamie, but he also understood that Magnus had to deal with things his own way.
"How will you run it?"
"By becoming my alter ego. Mike Connor, a congenial dumbfuck. Nice and unthreatening. Miss Autumn Moretti's type. She'll be inviting him into her cabin for a coffee chat in no time."
"And then?"
Magnus drummed his fingers on the desk, keeping his eyes off Jamie." His oldest friend wouldn't like it.
"Then I seduce her and get it all on film."
There was silence, as he knew there would be, but Jamie didn't argue. Right now, there seemed to be more important things to handle.
"Ready to see Murphy? We've got him at the warehouse."
He nodded, keeping his anger in check, and stood unhurriedly, smoothing a palm down his tie. He'd fired Murphy and ever since, the rat shit bastard had been nothing but trouble. Sean had ignored the first warning. Time for a different tactic.
"Let's go."
* * * * * *
Sean Murphy's defiant smirk twisted his petulant lips, and Magnus didn't pause as he entered the building and strode directly
for him. The burly guards standing erect on either side of the smug son of a bitch stepped aside, and the smirk vanished, blood draining from Murphy's face.
He immediately straightened, eyes darting frantically for an escape. Even if he had been able to move, it was too late as Magnus closed in, grabbing him by the throat with one hand and dragging his struggling body across the floor.
Ignoring his terrified cries, Magnus slammed him against the rough brick wall, his biting grip pressing into Murphy's neck, his other hand smashing away the man's futile attempts to push him off.
"You hurt one of my girls, Sean." He hissed into the shaking man's ear. Magnus kept his face expressionless except for the snarl that couldn't be helped. His anger was growing, ready to explode in his chest, but he let it out slowly, squeezing Murphy's throat before he eased off just enough for the man to suck in a small breath.
"I-I'm sorry, Magnus" He croaked, panicked eyes fixed on Magnus's face. "I-I d-didn't mean for it to happen. I swear."
"Bullshit." He had an overwhelming need to strangle the useless bastard, feeling his hand grip tighter. Murphy's eyes bulged, darting beyond his captor's face, hands clawing at Magnus's arm.
"Who are you looking for, Sean?" Magnus reluctantly loosened his hold. He needed to calm down, check the rage he felt churning in the pit of his stomach.
"I didn't know she was yours." He whispered hoarsely, darting frantic eyes back to Magnus.
"That's a fucking lie." Magnus bit out.
"Okay, okay, b-but I thought you'd kicked her out."
"Shut the fuck up."
The man disgusted him. In a world of heartless, selfish bastards, Sean Murphy was the worst, but where most of the other inhabitants at least had some spine, Murphy was a coward.
Sean flicked his eyes to the other men in the room.
"You won't find help there, Sean. Now, I'm going to let you leave this place."
He watched as relief flooded the man's face, and not surprisingly, he also saw contempt. Magnus shook his head, wanting to plant a fist in the squirming man's ugly face. Murphy's kind respected nothing but cruelty and force. They saw anything refined or generous as a weakness, something to exploit.
Pounding some respect into him was the only way the conniving little shit would understand. The girls' lives were on the line. He would give him a memorable warning today, but if there was a next time, it would be the last.
"But only after you get a little taste of what you did to Keira."
Sean's contempt vanished as quickly as it had appeared, his face turning ashen.
"Oh man." He started to blubber. "I won't do it again, Magnus, I swear. You have to believe me."
"However." Magnus went on, ignoring him. "Next time you touch one of my girls or keep information from me, you can be sure you won't walk...ever."
Magnus let his words sink in, tightening his grip until the other man's wild eyes bulged.
He shoved the trembling human mess hard against the wall and let him collapse, before he turned away and nodded to his men.
He walked out of the warehouse, pausing to button his suit jacket and thread steady fingers through his now disheveled hair.
If a dead body wouldn't make the feds even more annoying, he'd shoot the little rodent himself, but he couldn't afford that kind of attention, not right now with Matt Moretti breathing down his neck.
He fucking couldn't wait to get his hands on the sister. Jamie had been right; it wasn't Magnus's usual style, but Moretti was relentless. He had no other choice.
A cry ripped from the warehouse, and Magnus rolled his shoulders, smirking as he strode toward his black Mercedes. Karma is a bitch.
Chapter Two
Tongue sticking out, eyes squinting in concentration, Jeremiah slid his wooden piece from the middle of the tower, expelling his held breath in one whoosh as he clutched it in victory.
He added his piece to the top and dropped back, giving Autumn a smug grin.
She chewed her bottom lip in mock consternation and threw him a scowl, making the circle of young players giggle, a few flopping backwards on the floor in dramatic amusement.
Being challenged by a group of eleven-year-olds was serious business, and she had to keep up the competitive tension.
This was her last day volunteering at the family center before she headed out to California for a family Christmas, and she was going to miss these kids.
Cracking her knuckles with theatrical flair and taking a dramatic breath, Autumn eyed the tower with one brow lifted in concentration.
She chose her piece, tapping it while she looked around the group. "This one?"
With some of the kids biting their nails in giddy apprehension and others goading her on, she slowly wiggled out the small wooden rectangle, centimeter by centimeter, continuing to worry her lower lip in exaggerated concern until the block slipped out into her waiting hand.
She grinned triumphantly, showing it to the group, then set it on top alongside the others.
All eyes turned to the next player, who instead of scooting eagerly to the tower to make his move, stared dejectedly at the carpet.
"I can't. You can go." He said, already sounding defeated while he shrugged his shoulder
Autumn repressed a sympathetic smile. She had her own memories of being the smallest and youngest in a family of loud and competitive siblings who would rather dive into a pool full of sharks than admit defeat.
"How do you know you can't?" She asked quietly.
"Look at it; it's too hard." He flicked his eyes at the other kids, quickly dropping them again.
They had just started; he wasn't likely to tumble the tower with any of the pieces he chose.
"Will you make a bet with me?" She crossed her arms. She didn't want him to think she was coddling him in front of his peers, but a bet was different.
He looked at her warily. "What kind of bet?"
"I'll bet that you can pull that piece without the tower falling. If it falls, I lose, you win."
His brows furrowed. "You're betting me that I can do it?"
She bit back a smile. "Exactly."
"So...if it falls, I win?" His confused frown grew more pronounced.
Although kids could and would reshape logic with their highly tuned imaginations, they were still logical little folk. Autumn knew her proposal didn't make sense, but it was too tempting, too perfect to pass up.
"That is the challenge, Mr. Ryan." She lifted one brow. "Do you accept?"
He grinned, nodding with vigor.
"Okay, everyone...quiet, please." She ordered, looking around at the now alert faces.
Ryan had a mischievous grin. Either way he won, so pulling out his piece wasn't nearly as dread inducing as it had been, and he easily slipped the wooden length out, puffing out his chest as he stuck it on top of the tower.
"I did it." His smile was wide when he turned to Autumn. She waited for the gloating, but it never came, and she put up her hand for a high five.
"Congrats, dude."
He met her hand with an enthusiastic slap, and with a grin still in place, turned to the next player.
When her shift with the kids ended, she went to pick up Amber, who'd been volunteering in the kitchen.
They often volunteered together and then spent the rest of the day shopping or going out to eat at a restaurant on one of their lists of NYC things to do.
"Are you going out with Dylan tonight?" Amber asked, sinking her teeth into a mega burger piled high with extras.
Autumn sighed and popped a fry in her mouth. "I think so. He wants to go dancing." She looked at her friend. "Why don't you come with us?"
"Hells no. Dylan will gripe all night and bitch about how I ruined your date." Amber rolled her eyes and picked up her napkin. "No thank you."
"We’re not dating." Autumn leaned back in her chair and looked out the window. "You know we're just friends."
"I know that; and he should know that. Maybe if you had a steady boyfriend, he might finally get it
through his thick skull." Amber shrugged and eyed her friend with pity. "You know it has been a while."
Autumn swerved her gaze from the window to look incredulously at her friend. "Excuse me?" She laughed. "It's not like I can go to Bloomingdale's and ask to see their Hot Men selection."
Amber's brows hiked up. "Babes of Bloomingdale's? Maybe we could sell it as a reality show and find our next love machine in the process."
"No reality show love machine for me, thanks." Autumn said, sighing. "Right now, I need a one-woman man, sweet and sexy and different than all the guys out there."
Amber chewed on her bright red straw.
"Someone who is kind and intelligent, has gorgeous eyes, a talented tongue, and can give you at least three orgasms a night. Is that about right?"
"How did you guess?" Autumn laughed, then shook her head. "No...I'm pretty sure Dylan fits that bill. At least according to the girls he's dated."
She looked wistfully away. "No. There has to be something more. Something special."
She picked up a tomato from her salad. "A man like that probably doesn't even exist."
Amber grinned, her hazel eyes sparkling. "The trouble with the female population these days, and I include myself in that description, is that we're spoiled. We've upped our requirements, but ironically every time we raise the bar, there aren't as many men who can meet it."
She crossed her arms. "Confession. I want "special" too, but I'm not willing to wait for it. If special wants me, it can find me on the sexual express."
She shrugged, picking up her burger. "Get on the fast track, Autumn. If you want spark, you have to make your own. You'll never find your guy on a casual country road, he's in the express lane. Just make sure you really want him and are willing to take the heat."
"Why are you suddenly sounding like the sex therapist I've always needed?"
"I know you. I know you want Mr. Fast Lane. I just worry he might be too fast for you." Amber studied her for several seconds. "I think that's why you followed Matt to New York."
"I just didn't want to stay in California for school. I wanted to try something different."
"My point exactly." She said, pointing her straw at Autumn. "Matt is your "dangerous" brother; he can also protect you if you decide to get dangerous too."
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