Split: Book 2 of The Mirror Trilogy

by Ana Ban

  “We’d been working together for several months. There was a connection between us that became more and more difficult to deny. We’ve never looked back.”

  At this, Donovan grasped my hand and led me back to my seat. As we finished the first appetizer and were presented with the next course, so many questions were swirling around my mind that I didn’t know what to ask next.

  “Can you tell me more about me? From before you and I met? What did I do? Did I have a job?”

  Donovan smiled indulgently. “When we first met, I was fighting in underground matches. I was fresh out of the military and had something to prove, I suppose. Unbeknownst to me, you were the one running the show.”

  “I was running illegal fights?” My eyes went wide at the news.

  “It’s how you got your start. The money you- and later, we- made from those fights is what we used to establish our current business. You had plans, and needed someone to help you with running the operation. You had been searching for someone to trust for a year, and eventually set your sights on me,” his mouth tipped up in amusement at this remark. “You told me you watched me for another six months before approaching.”

  My brain was working a mile a minute. “I must have had help establishing the fights. That’s not something I could have done on my own.”

  “True, though the only person you ever contacted or saw face to face was Leroy.”

  “Leroy?” The man that had been security for Reggie, the snake that had ratted us out and gotten our penthouse attacked?

  “The same one,” Donovan confirmed.

  That, at least, explained why he seemed to know me the day we had entered Reggie’s lair.

  “There’s one more thing,” Donovan leaned forward again, taking one of my hands in both of his. His mouth brushed against my ear, tickling the tendrils of nerves there. All my attention was on him, knowing this was important. “There’s a dark need that exists in both of us. Later tonight, I’m going to show you exactly what that entails.”

  Chapter 21

  Selena

  3 years ago

  Zipping through the tunnels, I glanced back to see Donovan on my tail. With a smirk, I hit the gas and took off, leaving him in my dust. It didn’t take him long to catch up, and as I slid to a halt sideways, he was right beside me. Dismounting, I waited for him to approach me, the smile still very much in evidence.

  “I’ll get you one of these times,” Donovan griped.

  “Wouldn’t count on it,” I gripped his biceps as his arms wrapped around me.

  “I love you, you know,” Donovan’s eyes had gone soft, a look he reserved solely for me.

  “This is where you first told me that,” I smiled at the memory. “Anyone else might think underground tunnels are creepy and gross.”

  “But not you,” Donovan grinned. “Ever the romantic.”

  With a roll of my eyes, I broke from the embrace and spun towards the exit. “No time for romance,” I said flippantly. “It’s time to work.”

  Ever the gentleman, Donovan palmed open both doors we came across, allowing me to go first. When we emerged into the cool night air, I took the lead, going straight outside and to the docks.

  Tony DeLuca waited patiently with his brother, Ricky. Donovan and I had done plenty of research on this family, before and after making our initial contact, and knew all decisions went through Ricky before being approved by Tony. That meant we might actually get something accomplished tonight.

  “Good evening, Donovan, Selena,” Tony acknowledged us. “This is my brother, Ricky.”

  Donovan nodded his head in greeting, but allowed me to take point.

  “Thanks for meeting with us,” I said to them both. “We’ve come to warn you about your new business partners.”

  “What do you know of it?” Ricky spoke up.

  I shrugged, not one to play games, but not willing to give away my sources. “We hear things. We’ve enjoyed our mutually beneficial agreement, but I’m afraid if you continue down this course, we’ll have no choice but to distance ourselves from your business.”

  Ricky and Tony shared a look, until Ricky slowly shook his head. It was Tony who answered me.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” I muttered, turning to leave.

  Donovan followed, as we quickly wound our way back to our tunnel entrance. Once inside the enclosed space, I slammed a palm against the wall.

  “Idiots,” I grumbled.

  “They’ll learn,” Donovan promised me.

  Chapter 22

  Mia

  Present Day

  The dim lights of the club set the mood for the talented jazz musicians to display their art. Donovan had secured us a private table in a dark corner of the large venue. The soulful strains resonated with a part of myself I hadn’t known existed.

  His earlier words had piqued not only an interest in me, but a bizarre kind of pleasurable torture in the anticipation of what else tonight would hold.

  “This is incredible,” I leaned close to speak to Donovan above the cacophony of sounds. Yet more champagne filled my cup, and the lightheadedness seemed to be here for the duration of the night. “I’ve been meaning to ask; how did the meeting go with the official?”

  “It went well,” he spoke into my ear. “Mason was able to find the information I needed. Henry has a daughter with severe autism. He’s been trying to get her into a private school, but with no luck. It wasn’t money he was after. I helped his daughter, and now he’ll help us.”

  Taking in that information, I kept quiet since it was difficult to hold a conversation anyway. Instead, we both sat back to enjoy the music, and I continued to sip on my drink.

  After a few hours, Donovan took my hand and helped me stand, leading me back to the car. He held me steady on the steps and maneuvered me into the back seat with little effort. When he slid in beside me, I immediately leaned into him, breathing the scent that was wholly Donovan deep into my lungs.

  He ran his fingertips lightly over my exposed skin, setting my already overactive nerve endings on fire.

  We entered the room and I suddenly felt nervous. It was an inane emotion, after everything we’d been through, and I fiddled with the fresh flowers left in a vase to distract myself.

  Feeling Donovan’s presence behind me, I closed my eyes, waiting for him to make contact. He didn’t.

  “Turn around,” came his husky demand.

  I did so, slowly.

  He remained some distance away, watching me with hooded eyes.

  “Do you trust me?” He asked in the same low, rough tone.

  Pausing only momentarily, I replied barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

  “I want to show you a pleasure unlike anything we’ve done before. Everything I do is for your enjoyment, and if at any point you feel uncomfortable, say the word dagger and I will immediately stop. Do you understand?”

  I had a difficult time swallowing, so instead of speaking, I merely nodded my head.

  I knew, in my deepest core, that Donovan would never truly hurt me. That’s not where the fear came from that left my mouth dry and my limbs shaking. It was a fear of wanting what he was offering, even though I didn’t fully know what it entailed. Something in the look in his eye, the tone of his voice left my body strumming, answering a need buried deep.

  He stepped close to me then, pulling the dress from my shoulders with delicate fingers. He kept his contact light, slowly sliding the dress down and over my hips, kneeling to allow me to step out of its confines. After laying it delicately over the back of a chair, he turned his raptor’s gaze back to me.

  I was left standing in a matching red, lacy ensemble that Sophia had left out for me. The bodice allowed for the low back of the dress while still supporting my breasts, while the scrap of underwear allowed garters to be attached, holding up the thigh-high nylons. With the heels still on, I’d never felt so exposed, or so sexy.

  Donovan continued t
o watch me, drinking me in. The anticipation was killing me, his earlier words still resonating deep. Based on his actions so far, I now believed I understood what he meant.

  Finally, he approached me, placing his palm over the corset against my stomach, still looking deep into my eyes. Leaning his head close, his lips hovered over mine, tantalizingly close.

  “Don’t move unless I instruct you to,” he whispered over my mouth.

  I didn’t move, didn’t speak.

  “Good,” he commended me.

  My breath was coming quick, aching for the pressure of his mouth against mine. Abruptly, he pulled away. I immediately felt bereft.

  “Come to the bedroom,” he spoke in the same low, husky voice.

  Walking on shaky legs, I stopped just inside the room. Donovan entered after me, walking to the edge of the bed. There were black leather pieces attached to two of the posts, and Donovan paused beside one.

  “Come here,” he instructed.

  Taking a deep breath, I did. He wrapped a piece around my wrist, securing it with Velcro. As he worked to secure my other wrist, he spoke.

  “I’m using Velcro so you know, if you need to, you can escape. I want you to feel comfortable.”

  When his eyes met mine, I nodded.

  Then, he stood before me, slowly removing his jacket and tossing it aside. I was splayed out in front of him, standing on already unsteady feet. He took his time, removing his belt and folding it in two, studying it.

  “Pain and pleasure are highly connected,” he kept his gaze on the belt. “I’m going to touch on highly concentrated nerves, which will bring a flair of pain followed immediately by pleasure. Are you ready?”

  Helpless in my need, I nodded. He rapped the belt lightly against my thigh. The shock of it brought out a gasp. Donovan watched my face carefully as he experimented in different areas, using different amounts of pressure. The intense pleasure shooting through my core was unbelievable, and as he continued, occasionally brushing a gentle hand along areas he’d applied the belt, I felt myself wound tighter than I’d ever been. Just one touch, in the right spot, and I would explode.

  Whimpers found their way past my lips, my body reaching toward Donovan with a mindless need. When he pulled feathers from his bag, every nerve ending was already on fire. He teased me with soft brushes over every exposed piece of skin until I could take it no more.

  “Please,” I pleaded.

  It did nothing to relieve the pressure. He merely changed tactics, leaning in close to kiss my neck, along my arms.

  “Please, what?” He spoke against the curve of my neck as his mouth made his way back towards my ear.

  “Please, Donovan…”

  His hands slipped around me, undoing the few snaps holding the bodice in place. As the cool air touched my newly exposed skin, I let out another gasp.

  Donovan stood before me, taking his time undoing each of his own buttons before finally sliding his shirt over his broad shoulders and revealing his toned stomach beneath. Retrieving the belt, he remained still, his eyes on mine.

  “Now, we can begin.”

  Chapter 23

  Selena

  3 years ago

  As I stood staring out over our operation, I found myself missing Donovan. It was impossible for me to go with him while he traveled abroad, and he was making those trips more and more.

  Inside our warehouse at the docks, one of our submarines had surfaced an hour ago, ready to be unloaded. The water was deep enough at our Baltimore dock for the submarines to come in on their own, slipping under the building and raising inside the warehouse built around them. With their quiet propulsion and advanced technology, they were virtually undetectable.

  This drone was carrying artifacts from Egypt, and as I watched the men carefully unload the crates, an idea came to me.

  Perhaps there was a way for me to join Donovan when he traveled. To be with him full time, instead of simply living my life in the shadows.

  From my back pocket, I pulled out a heavily folded photo, spreading it out flat to gaze at it as I had so many times before. A woman, in broad daylight, smiling at the camera for her first official police officer photo. Her dark auburn hair, amber eyes and heart shaped face were like looking in a mirror. The only true difference between us was in the softness of her eyes. I’d never had the ability to be truly happy. Even in my time with Donovan, there was still something lacking.

  Mia Gonzalez could be the answer to all my problems. It would take an incredible amount of planning, and patience. Donovan and I had the intelligence and power to pull this off, and time was the one luxury I could afford.

  Waves of anxious nerves born of anticipation raced through me as pieces of a plan began to take shape.

  Chapter 24

  Mia

  Present Day

  Waking the next morning left me in a dull state of shock.

  Since I could tell I was alone in the large bed, I allowed my muscles to stretch, feeling each delicious ache as I tested my limbs.

  Opening my eyes, I glanced down at my bare skin, running fingers lightly over my raw wrists and the scattering of bruises along my upper arm. Though I didn’t recall the exact moment those had appeared, the memory of begging Donovan to hold me tighter was very clear.

  I had begged him.

  Donovan had shown me things last night I never would have imagined in my wildest dreams- or, perhaps more accurately, my wildest fantasies.

  For a moment my mind went over each teasing touch, every sharp snap of his belt, how many times my body had spiraled out of control. There was a pleasant haze of sub-reality as I lay in tangled sheets, wondering how my life had led me to this moment.

  Feeling another presence in the room, I turned my head to see Donovan, clad only in a pair of pants, approaching the bed with a tray in his hands. His smile settled the anxiety that had immediately crept up.

  “Good morning,” he said softly, setting the tray near me before sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Scooting myself up, I smiled shyly back at him. “Good morning.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  That was a loaded question. Amazing, fulfilled, sore, embarrassed, horrified at my utter disregard of my morals, blissful.

  “A little achy, but otherwise pretty amazing,” I decided to go with.

  He brushed his thumb across my cheek, then frowned as he looked down at my arm. Just as gently, he brushed his thumb against the small purple dots there. “I’m sorry for that, I didn’t want to mark you.”

  For the ridiculousness of the statement, I felt a laugh bubble up. It startled him.

  “I don’t remember complaining,” I explained my sudden hysteria.

  He smiled, looking up at me from under his lashes. It seemed almost timid, which was another laughable moment compared to last night.

  To fight my awkwardness, I lifted a mug of coffee from the tray, sweetened with milk and sugar as I preferred it. Needing desperately to change the subject, I asked the first thing that came to mind.

  “What’s on our schedule for today?”

  “After breakfast, we’ll be heading back to the airport, and heading to Paris.”

  “Paris?” I asked excitedly. It had always been on my short list of places to visit. “Chocolate croissants and the Eiffel Tower?”

  “Of course,” Donovan grinned, picking up his own mug of coffee. “Among other things.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find many ways to amaze me,” I told him.

  Donovan ordered room service for breakfast, and we sat out on the balcony in the warming sunshine. It felt familiar, as eating on the balcony had become a habit for us in Baltimore, and I began to feel more at ease as last night’s adventures morphed into a hazy memory.

  The flight to France was smooth and quick, my nerves slightly less jumpy as we walked through customs than the first time. As we took a car service from the airport towards our hotel, my eyes were glued on the sights outside the window.

  The streets we
re filled with people walking, sitting at outside café’s and seeming to just enjoy life. The vibe was so different than any American city I’d been in, that it felt surreal, almost as if I were watching a movie scene playing out around me.

  As we passed the majestic Louvre and came to a stop in front of the Hotel Regina, I soaked in as much of the sights as was possible behind my dark lenses and floppy hat.

  While this hotel didn’t have the same splendor as the one in London, it was gorgeous and had a charm all its own. The architecture included many archways, intricate carvings and small details, like hand painted walls and gorgeous windows. We were led to the Eiffel Tower Suite, which I hoped meant what I believed it meant.

  The room was clean and felt fresh with its light colors and classic design. The bed fit into its own nook in the wall, separated by the rest of the room with drapes. As Donovan directed the bell hop, I wandered to the window, my heart beat picking up pace.

  Standing before the window, my eyes swept across the landscape, seeking out the one thing that had always beckoned me to Paris. Standing strong, towering above the gardens surrounding it, sat the Eiffel Tower.

  Placing a hand over my chest, I felt a tear form in my eye and didn’t bother to wipe it away. Donovan approached me, placing a hand on the small of my back, his eyes on the same scene before us.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, not ready to turn away yet. “I don’t know what it is about the Eiffel Tower.”

  “It’s a strong symbol,” Donovan answered. “It has stood the test of time. Originally it was only meant to be a temporary display, but managed to survive not only its original intent but also through wars and sieges.” Though I could feel his eyes on me, I still wasn’t ready to look away. “The tower is proof that something which seems fragile and temporary has the ability to become permanent.”

  Swallowing once, I remained silent on that point.

  “We’re also above the gardens of the Louvre, and another section of the hotel has wonderful views of the grounds.”