Beautifully Brutal (Southern Boy Mafia #1)

by Nicole Edwards

When she’d told him that, he’d seen that same haunted look in her eyes, and he’d wondered whether he was the reason it’d been there.

  “This is … nice,” Courtney said when Max handed her the drink. Her eyes drifted to the far wall, where the pictures were hung.

  He watched as her mouth opened slightly, realization dawning. Yes, he’d done this for her, hoping that one day he’d have her back where she belonged. With him.

  “I thought you’d like it,” he said, backing away from her before he did something stupid, like kiss her.

  “I still don’t understand why you brought me here.”

  Max sipped the whiskey, his eyes on Courtney’s face. Lowering the glass, he admired her beautiful, soft features. She was still just as lovely as the last time he’d seen her, perhaps more so. And fuck if he didn’t miss her.

  “The question is why are you here, Courtney? What are you after now?”

  Courtney stiffened, as he had expected. He wasn’t gullible enough to believe she’d come to him for him, and certainly not for girls’ night with her friend. She was after something, and he simply wanted to know what. If she’d merely been out for a night on the town, he imagined the last place she would’ve willingly gone was his club.

  This game of hers was tiring, but he’d initially started out playing it two years ago, so he figured he could continue the ruse. Because, despite what Courtney might want to believe, this thing between them had started off as a means for her to find her way into his organization, but it had turned into something much, much more than that. Had he not been willing, she never would’ve made it into his world.

  “I hear congratulations are in order,” Courtney said acrimoniously as she moved away from him, circling around behind one of the white leather sofas, her fingers trailing over the top of the cushions.

  Max didn’t respond.

  “I didn’t figure you for the type to fall for a blonde.”

  “I could say the same about you,” he disputed.

  She inhaled sharply but didn’t meet his gaze.

  He wasn’t going to rise to her bait. If she wanted to confront him head on, he’d be more than happy to oblige her, but this tiptoeing around bullshit was quickly boring him.

  When she turned back to the window, holding her glass close as she stared out at the scenic view, he was reminded of a time much like this one. Only then, the view she’d been peering out at had been his swimming pool, not quite as interesting as the one now.

  However, his view—of her—had been equally stunning.

  “Have a seat, Courtney,” Max encouraged, forcing himself to stop watching her as he moved to the black sectional that filled the space. Without waiting for her to join him, he lowered himself to the buttery soft leather, getting comfortable with one arm on the armrest, crossing his ankle over the opposite knee.

  He wasn’t sure he’d ever actually sat in that particular room in his house. He looked around, taking it in. No, it was just another room that went unoccupied. Most of his time was spent in his office, the kitchen, or, when he was sleeping, in his bedroom. The ballroom was used for parties, the dining room for family gatherings. But never this room. Hell, he could still smell the new leather from the sofa.

  She joined him a minute later, only she didn’t sit next to him. There was an entire cushion between them, but that didn’t surprise him. For a moment, he simply watched her, caught up in her and unable to look away. Never in his life had he had this sort of reaction to a woman. Where being in the same room with her was enough. Having her close, hearing her breathe. Max could’ve simply sat there in silence for hours just so he could observe her.

  But that time wasn’t available to him anymore. He needed to understand more about her, such as her reasons for coming here.

  He’d been pleasantly surprised when she showed up at his door, but after the way she’d slipped out on him the other morning, he’d been reluctant to let her in. Nevertheless, here they were, and the silence was beginning to irritate him.

  Presuming she wasn’t going to out-and-out tell him what he wanted to know—why she was there—he figured casual conversation would be the easier route.

  “Tell me something,” he prompted.

  “What’s that?”

  Pretending to think a little longer, he took a sip of his drink. “You went to work for your father, but you never said that’s what you wanted to do. When you were younger, what did you want to be when you grew up?” he asked, eyeing her carefully.

  She visibly relaxed, easing back into the cushion as she stared down at the glass in her hand.

  “The CIA,” she said softly, a small smile forming. “I always dreamed of being in the CIA. I wanted to go on missions, to infiltrate terrorist networks and draw out the bad guys.”

  Max chuckled. “So you followed your dream?”

  “Not necessarily,” she replied, glancing over at him. “My father has always treated me with kid gloves. Although none of my brothers would ever take the babysitting jobs forced on me, they seem to expect me to smile and nod when they’re offered.”

  “Why do you think that is?” he inquired.

  “At first, I thought it was because I was a woman. But I’ve proven myself time and time again, and I refuse to believe that my father is sexist. I’m reliable, focused, not to mention good with a gun,” she said with a smirk. “The only thing that makes sense is that I’m my father’s daughter. He doesn’t quite know how to let me go, let me be what I was meant to be.”

  “But he assigned this mission to you,” he told her frankly, watching her closely.

  Courtney’s eyes lifted to his, but she didn’t respond. She knew as well as he did that this was an undercover assignment, a way for her to dig into the Adorite family, to learn more about the Southern Boy Mafia. He didn’t know who their client was, who wanted dirt on him, but Max knew it could be a number of people. From the government to his enemies, or hell, even one of the five families could be looking into them, assessing them.

  Not that he thought the latter would’ve reached out to a group of elite security advisors, but he never underestimated anyone.

  “I’m not supposed to be here,” Courtney said, her voice soft, uncertain.

  Max dropped his foot to the floor, leaned forward, and placed his empty glass on the table.

  “Then why are you here?” he asked.

  The silence lingered for longer than Max cared for, but Courtney’s response finally came, and it was exactly what he’d been hoping to hear.

  “Because I can’t stay away.” She swallowed hard. “I can’t stay away from you, Max.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes, and his heart melted a little more. They’d only known each other for two and a half months, but during that time, they’d grown closer, despite her consistent need to put distance between them. Ever since the night he’d fucked her, she’d been standoffish, coming up with excuses as to why she couldn’t see him and not giving in. It was beginning to wear on him, and he had to wonder what she was up to.

  But then she’d shown up on his doorstep today, unannounced. And now she was sitting so close he could smell her sweetness, see the dark gray flecks in her nearly colorless eyes, hear the way her breaths were becoming uneven.

  “Come here,” he ordered, his voice low, unwavering.

  Courtney mirrored his actions, placing her glass on the table before scooting closer.

  When she was within arm’s reach, he lifted his hands to her face, grazing his thumbs over her smooth cheeks while she eyed him speculatively.

  “I don’t want you to stay away,” he told her.

  Taking his time, Max leaned in, his mouth hovering so close to hers he could feel her breath against his lips. When he finally leaned far enough to kiss her, he settled his mouth over hers gently, waiting for her to give in to him.

  And just like that, their worlds collided, much as they had that night in the hallway when he’d been so taken by this woman that he hadn’t cared where they were. He’
d needed her, wanted to be inside her, to bury himself so fucking deep she wouldn’t be able to run from him.

  “Max.” The husky way she said his name had his cock throbbing.

  Pulling her onto his lap, Max settled her so that she was straddling him. Their mouths never separated, their tongues seeking, devouring. Unable to resist, he slid his palms up her thighs, pushing her short skirt higher, until he gripped her hips beneath. He jerked her forward, pressing his aching cock against her, grinding until the pleasure was so intense he thought he would come in his jeans like a fucking schoolboy.

  “Oh, God, Max. Please,” she pleaded.

  “Please what?” he asked as her mouth trailed over his jaw, his neck.

  Working his thumb over the thin fabric of her panties, Max found her clit. He pressed, circled his thumb until she was begging him for more. He wanted to make her come, to make her cry out his name. And then, he wanted to bury himself inside her and fuck her until neither of them knew which way was up.

  For long minutes, Max continued to tease her, sliding his thumb beneath her panties, feeling her slick heat against his skin while he kissed her, their tongues mating.

  It was too much. He’d held out for too long.

  Growling, he pulled back, peering up at her. Neither of them said anything, but words weren’t needed. She knew what he wanted, the same as he knew what she needed.

  Without thinking about the consequences of their actions, Max freed his cock from his slacks, forced her panties to the side, and eased his cock inside her. And right there, in the middle of his living room, on the never-sat-on-before sofa, Max lost himself in her, fucking her sweetly, gently. She rode his cock until they were both breathless, moaning. And when she came, her mouth crushed to his, her moans muffled by his lips, he let himself go.

  Max forced himself from the memory, realizing that Courtney was standing there staring at him. Rather than face the curiosity in her gaze, he turned away from her, maneuvered back around to the end of the sofa, and sat down.

  “Sit down, Courtney,” he ordered her. “It’s time we have a talk.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Crazy is as crazy does.

  Leyton Matheson moved with purpose along the outer wall of the club, keeping an eye on things as was his position tonight. Now that Max was safely locked away in his penthouse and Leyton had handed Angelica off to Dane to ensure she made it home safely, he could breathe a little easier. At least for a little while.

  Making his way up the stairs, he forced his way through the people lingering over every inch of real estate they had to offer. After doing a quick check on the VIP room, Leyton slipped down the back stairs before returning to the floor once more. He spotted a couple arguing in a corner, so he made his way over. It only took a minute to calm them both, threatening to throw them out on their asses if they caused a scene, and then he was once again keeping to the perimeter, scanning the room for other issues.

  “Sir, we have a problem.”

  So apparently breathing easier wasn’t on his list of things to do tonight.

  Rolling his eyes because he had a good idea what that problem was, Leyton moved toward the exit doors that his boss had slipped through ten minutes earlier.

  Yep, just as he’d thought.

  “Angelica,” Leyton greeted when he approached the two guards being berated by the uptight woman who’d recently become a fixture in Max’s world. He glanced over at Felix and Darius, a silent question in his eyes as he tried to figure out what had happened to Dane, but they both shrugged.

  “Where is he?” she yelled, her anger contorting her usually pretty features.

  Max was right, the woman was vicious. And annoying.

  “He’s in a meeting,” Leyton told her, keeping his voice low.

  “He is not in a meeting!” she screamed. “I demand that you take me to him right now.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that’s not possible.”

  Angelica slammed her hands onto her narrow hips, glaring up at Leyton as though she were trying to figure out how to kill him. Maybe she was, he didn’t know. From what he’d seen of her, the woman didn’t understand business, nor did she understand just what this arrangement between her and Max truly meant or how it worked.

  Leyton had sensed from the beginning that Angelica expected some sort of mafia fairy tale. He’d wanted to tell her a million times that those didn’t actually exist. This world… There was nothing sweet and romantic about it, and one day, if she was around long enough, she would figure that out for herself.

  “He’s not answering my calls, so I want you to get him on the phone,” she growled, her lips pursed, her eyes narrowing.

  “Again, not possible,” Leyton informed her coolly.

  “He’s my fiancé, and I demand to be taken to him.”

  Lord, have mercy. If only the woman would grow up. Leyton had known the minute Max told him about the business arrangement that would allow him to acquire a vast amount of land down along the Mexican border—some prime real estate that would assist in making their lives that much easier—that things weren’t going to go as smoothly as they would’ve hoped.

  And the spoiled little political princess was the one who thought the mafia meant expensive clothes, nice restaurants, and protection from the bad guys… Seriously. And here he’d thought they were the bad guys.

  Yes, she was the reason Leyton wanted to pull out his gun and…

  “Damn it. I suggest you remember your place,” she snapped. “You’re Max’s fucking errand boy, which means you’re now my errand boy. Go. Fetch. Max. Now!”

  Fetch him? Seriously?

  Okay, so he could deal with quite a bit of shit. Having grown up in Max’s world, as his closest friend and now his protector, his right-hand man, the most reliable person in his world, Leyton had seen some crazy shit, done some crazier shit. But this…

  This fucking woman took the cake.

  Pressing the button on his microphone, Leyton instructed the bouncer at the door to call Ms. Winslow’s car around to the back entrance. Taking her by the arm, he turned her toward the rear of the building, keeping to the outer walls to avoid all the people.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she exclaimed at the top of her lungs. “Let go! You’re hurting me.”

  He wondered if she was being so loud because of the music or if she thought the shrill sound of her voice actually made people listen. He hoped it wasn’t the latter, because … the crazy bitch was delusional.

  Once they made it through to the corridor leading to the private exit that they used for celebrities and other VIPs, Leyton released her arm.

  “I’m tellin’ my grandfather about this!” she screamed as Leyton pushed open the door.

  Oh, Lord.

  Leyton rolled his eyes. “Very well, ma’am.”

  “He’ll have you fired! He’ll have all of you fired!”

  Leyton nodded. He’d dealt with Angelica for longer than he cared to.

  She turned to face him once again, staring up at him with anger flashing in her blue eyes. “Why is she here?”

  “Who?” he asked, pretending not to know who she was referring to.

  “That … whore. Why is she here? Why is he talking to her?”

  “Ma’am, I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Leyton took a step forward, opening the door to the limo when it pulled up. He took a step back and allowed her the opportunity to climb into the car. Of course, she didn’t take it, as was his luck.

  “You tell Max that I won’t stand for this. If he thinks he’s powerful, he hasn’t seen nothin’ yet. That… That bitch. She better stay away from him.”

  Again, Leyton nodded.

  Angelica leaned in closer, her voice lowering somewhat. “I will not allow her to interfere with me and Max. She will not interfere, do you understand me?”

  Leyton didn’t so much as blink.

  “Either you make sure she goes away or I will.”

  Leyton sighed, cast
ing his gaze into the limo, encouraging her to get in. When she did, before she had a chance to yell at him any more, he closed the door and slapped the roof of the car, sending it on its way.

  He started toward the door of the club, but it flew open, and Dane stumbled out, blood running down the side of his face.

  A lot of fucking blood.

  “What the fuck happened to you?” Leyton asked, trying to get a better look at the long gash that ran down the side of Dane’s face from his forehead to his jaw.

  Holy fuck.

  “She’s … fuckin’… insane.” Dane’s knees gave out as he tried to take another step.

  Leyton grabbed the big man with one hand, hitting the button on his mic with the other. “I need some assistance at the back entrance. Now!”

  Helping Dane to the ground, Leyton squatted near him, turning the man’s head to the side and inspecting the skin that was ripped wide open. Was that … bone?

  Son of a bitch.

  “What the fuck happened to you?” Leyton asked Dane again, this time anger boiling in his gut.

  “Angelica… She fucking … cut me.”

  Goddamn it.

  Leyton glanced down the alley, but the limo was long gone.

  Either you make sure she goes away or I will.

  The crazy bitch’s words echoed in his head, the clear threat that she’d made against Courtney.

  Shit.

  As much of a bitch as he thought Angelica Winslow was, Leyton hadn’t quite expected this. He knew that she was as vicious as Max believed her to be, but truthfully, he’d thought it to be more of an act. She came from a world of political power and wealth. In all of her sheltered, overindulged life, she’d probably never heard the word no.

  But this… She’d sliced Dane wide fucking open.

  “Boss?” Anthony and Rock rushed outside, coming to an abrupt halt when they saw Dane on the ground.

  “Get him back inside and call the doc. Get him fixed up.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rock replied, reaching down and practically lifting Dane on his own.

  While they helped Dane into the club, Leyton paced.

  Fucking shit.

  Clearly Angelica was more lethal than he’d given her credit for.