by Nana Malone
East Bound
Nana Malone
Contents
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
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EAST BOUND
Copyright 2021 by Nana Malone
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
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East Bound
COPYRIGHT © 2021 by Nana Malone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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Cover Art by Najla Qamber
Photography by Wander Aguiar
Model: Lucas Loyola
Edited by Angie Ramey
Proof Editing by Michele Ficht
Published in the United States of America
Chapter 1
East
An ice-cold sensation washed over me, leaching all heat, warmth, and affection from my body. Leaving behind a shell.
What the hell had she done?
Spasms gripped my gut and held my breath hostage as I tried to think through any rational explanation.
But there wasn't any rational explanation.
Nyla had betrayed me. The first time I had let anyone truly get close to me in years and this was what happened. I had actually let myself care about someone, and she was still investigating us. Had she ever stopped?
In the beginning, I’d thought I was playing her. Keeping her occupied and away from what the London Lords were doing. But she was the one playing me.
Fuuuck.
I placed a frantic call to Ben as I exited the flat.
He answered in the middle of the second ring. "What's up, mate?"
"We have a fucking problem."
He could hear the tension in my voice, and his tone changed entirely. "Is someone dead?"
"Nyla didn't stop investigating us."
"What do you mean, she didn't stop?"
"You heard me. She didn't fucking stop. I'm looking at the fucking murder board of everything we've done. She knows it all. And if she doesn't know it yet, she's trying to make the connections. Someone's feeding her information. Right now, she has a list of at least ten of our Elite members, and she obviously plans to keep going."
His long drawn out, "Fuuuuck," on the other end was a reassurance that he understood the seriousness of the situation. “Come back to my house.”
"Yup. I'm on my way in. Just need to make a quick detour.”
"I'll call Bridge and Drew." He sighed. “Fuck, mate, I thought you'd handled her."
"Yeah. Motherfucker, I thought I had too."
For years, I employed limits. I had boundaries. I had lines I would not cross.
Not anymore. Those lines were specifically set for people I cared about.
That list no longer included Nyla.
Are you sure about that?
I shoved aside the worry and the voice of reason that attempted to surface. That voice wasn’t real. She wasn't real. I’d thought I was falling for her. I’d thought I was becoming less closed off than I’d always been. But I’d only been fooling myself. Any relationship with her was a pure fabrication on my part.
Yes, it was real.
The fuck it was. And since it wasn’t real, I was going to do what I should have done with her from the very beginning.
I strode out of the building, turning toward where I’d parked my car.
Charlie Cox, general manager of the Soho London Lords, wasn’t used to getting calls on a Sunday from me, but he still answered cheerily.
"Hey, Charlie. Sorry to interrupt your weekend, but I need a lockdown protocol on an Agent Nyla Kincade. I don't want her anywhere near the premises or any hotel we own anywhere. You got me?"
He didn't even hesitate. "Yes, sir. I'll make it happen straightaway."
I knew if she still had her badge it would have negated me barring her from London Lords hotels. But she didn't have a badge anymore, so she was going to be shit out of luck.
I thanked Charlie and then made a call to my assistant, Belinda. She didn't answer, but I left her a terse message. "Belinda, I have a no-access protocol on Agent Nyla Kincade. If she attempts to contact our offices in any way, shape, or form, call me immediately."
When I was done with that, I had to stop and lean against a post box. My blood was roaring, making me weak. That sinking feeling in my gut left me dizzy.
My inability to breathe felt like a goddamn elephant had parked itself on my chest.
I leaned over slightly and forced a deep breath into my lungs. Long, deep, sharp pulls. Why the fuck did I feel this way?
This was Nyla. She was always clear and direct. I knew that about her. So how had I not realized she was lying? Speaking the truth was at her very core, so what had I missed? She wouldn’t have told an outright lie, but fuck, there could have been a million little evasions. Half-truths I didn’t see.
You were the idiot who was thinking with your cock.
Fuck me.
I forced myself to stand up straight. I wasn't going to be a pussy about this. I was going to make her pay. I was due a pound of flesh.
I forced myself to slide into the leather seat of my BMW. I cranked up Stormzy, needing some good old grime to get me through what I had to do.
Up until that point, I had treated her with kid gloves. But those kid gloves had only put everyone in danger, and I didn’t plan to make that mistake again.
On my phone, I pulled up my security folder, tapped in my code, and opened the app I’d programmed myself then engaged Bird's Eye Protocol.
Bird's Eye Protocol was my full surveillance package. Anything and everything I needed to see, I could. It wasn’t something I did lightly as it was a gross breach of privacy. I didn't have it on the lads or my sister.
I’d set the cameras when I hadn’t known her just in case of a situation like this. I’d never turned them on inside her flat though. Only the ones outside.
It was the most invasive form of surveillance. Normally, I would have cameras inside her home and at her work, but I only had the one in her laptop and in her office. I needed more cameras in her flat. The one across the road was the only security system that I tapped into.
I had at least downloaded the software onto her phone before we’d spent much time together. Before I’d started to catch a case of feelings.
I’d mostly forgotten about it afterward, but I needed it now.
Or you could just talk to her.
What the hell was that bullshit about? No. If I talked to her, she would know she’d been caught out and formulate a lie. This was all because I had to get my cock wet.
Fuck. Of all the daft things.
You can bitch, or you can fix it.<
br />
Oh, I was going to fix it, all right. And Nyla was going to regret ever crossing me.
All she did was make you love her.
And that was bad enough.
Once my Bird's Eye Protocols were engaged, screens popped up on my app about everything Nyla. Her phone gave me her location. She was headed back toward the tube.
I leaned forward into my glove compartment and pulled out several surveillance cameras. It was a matter of quick work and tricky placement. But I was back in ten minutes after bugging their whole lair, or whatever the hell she and Amelia called that place.
Checking my phone, I smiled when I saw she was headed toward London Lords. That would give me time to properly place cameras in her flat. I’d want eyes on her bedroom, loo, the living room, and her kitchen. I already had her desk at work, the main conference room at Interpol, though she wouldn’t be using those for a while. And now her makeshift lair.
You're a sick freak.
Nyla wouldn't make a single move without me knowing. No way in hell was I getting caught unaware again. We’d risked too much. Come too far. When this was over with Jameson, I'd walk away from her. But for the foreseeable future, I had to keep an eye on her, and I would.
She'd already shattered my heart. No way in hell could that happen again.
Nyla
What a shit show.
I scurried out of the tube and practically ran to the London Lords Hotel in Soho. Christ.
I needed to see East. I had called him twice, but he hadn't answered. I knew he had a meeting, but what if he hadn't gone to the office? Where else could he be?
Panic had my heart pounding into my ribs. The normal thump, thump steady rhythm going taka-taka-taka. Amelia was good. She was very good. I couldn't believe how much work she'd already done.
I hadn't known she was that invested.
Weren’t you the one who compelled her? Fed the interest?
What the hell was I going to do? She was my partner. My best mate. I had dragged her down this rabbit hole, and now, she'd given it a life of its own. I needed to warn East. At least let him know what was going on.
The bellhop met me with a smile. "Good morning, ma’am. Do you have any luggage?"
I shook my head. "No thanks."
Before he could question me further, I shuffled inside. My trainers made a squeak, squeak, squeak sound as I hustled on the sleek marble floor with the chandelier's light refracting across the striations.
The concierge found me next. "Agent Kincade, it's a pleasure to see you again."
I frowned. "Have we met?”
"We did, briefly. How can I help you today?"
I pointed to the lift. "I'm just going to see Mr. Hale. It's urgent."
He gave me a warm smile and clasped his hands behind his back before giving me a slight bow. "I'm so sorry, but Mr. Hale is not available at the moment."
"Well, do you mind if I just go up and wait? This is really important."
"I'm so sorry, Agent Kincade. You won't be allowed to go up and wait."
A fissure of unease crept up my spine. "I don't understand. What's going on? Is there a reason you won't let me upstairs? I know he put me on his permit list."
"Well, as you understand, Mr. Hale resides in the penthouse loft. Unless he specifically has you on his access list or you have a warrant, then I can't let you up."
From the periphery, I noticed two large men dressed in suits inching their way toward me. Then I knew. "What's happening here?"
Thomas, the concierge, or at least that's what his badge said, gave me another soft smile. "Perhaps if you can come back at another time something will change?"
I blinked at him. How was this happening? I had just left East. We’d shagged this morning. He’d looked at me like he adored me.
Did he say the words?
I shoved the thought aside.
"There must be some kind of mistake, Thomas. Check again. Call him. I was just here a few days ago. Surely, nothing has changed."
How the hell had he kissed me goodbye like that then banned me from the hotel? What had happened?
My brain kept trying to offer a myriad of unhelpful scenarios. But I refused to believe them. He did care about me. No way he could fake that. Hell, I’d met his friends. They'd enveloped me as part of their team. Part of the plans.
There was no way this was happening. No way in hell. I knew him.
Are you sure about that?
He wouldn't have given me that kind of access to the people he loved the most in the world. He trusted me. We trusted each other. I believed him when he told me about the Elite and what had happened in the past. This was a mistake. It had to be.
When I realized that security was, in fact, coming for me, I sighed. "There is no need for all of that. I'll just keep calling him."
They formed a lose semi-circle around me. Not too tight as to alarm me or to draw attention, but enough so I could see them positioned strategically in case I decided to cause harm or do damage.
Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.
Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
I put my hands up. "Fine. I'm leaving."
The concierge gave me that tight smile again, bowing even lower. "Madam."
His effusive smile irritated me. "So, just out of curiosity, if I was staying here, could you boot me?"
His smile was easy enough. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Agent Kincade, but we're all booked for the evening. If you prefer, you can try and make an online reservation."
I shook my head. "Nope, it won't be necessary. I understand."
This was a mistake. It had to be. As I frantically staggered back out onto the streets of Soho and into the crowd of people bustling around me, the sounds of the car horns, the din of the city fading into the background, a numb, icy silence overtook my body. He'd done this on purpose. He'd blocked me. Between last night and this morning, something had changed. What the hell could have happened?
Or everything he’s told you was a lie. He doesn't actually care about you. He told you what you needed to hear to get what he wanted.
I leaned against the stone exterior of the hotel. I had no choice since I felt as though my legs were about to buckle and I couldn't breathe. There was no way East would cut me off like this. There was no way he wouldn't talk to me.
Well, he did. So, what are you going to do now?
My head swam. My brain refused to believe what was right in front of it. Refused to acknowledge that not only had I been cast aside, but in the most painful way possible.
East was done with me. But instead of talking to me this morning when he'd kissed me and told me how much he cared for me, all along, he knew what he was planning to do. He knew that he was done. He knew that I was blindly falling for him.
My automatic reaction was to fight back. Hurt him just as much as he'd hurt me. Hurt him the way every other man in my life had hurt me. I wanted to. I wanted to make him bleed. But some voice inside me which had been quiet before spoke even louder in the numbness.
Think. This doesn't make sense. Follow your instincts. Your gut will lead you.
But my gut was wrong.
Figure out the pattern. Apply logic. This isn't right. Something else happened.
I ran my hands through my hair as I tried to piece it together. We’d kissed goodbye. The way he'd woken me up this morning, all sexy, lazy smiles and let-me-feed-you breakfast, and 'Oh wait, here's my cock instead.' Kissing goodbye at his car. The way he watched me go down the stairs at the tube. And then I'd gone to Amelia’s secret flat. What could possibly have happened between then and now?
Nothing. You just got fucked and fucked over by the billionaire. You weren’t the first, and you certainly won’t be the last.
Chapter 2
East
It didn't matter what I told myself. Nothing prepared me for walking into her townhouse. Traces of her honeysuckle scent still clung in the air. Every surface was a reminder of somewhere I’d had her or somewhere I wanted
to have her again.
Something in my gut tightened. God, why did she have to be such a duplicitous bitch?
Or why can't you choose the right woman?
That was a question for another time. And one I didn't really care to answer.
Breaking into her flat was easy. When I’d taken care of security because of Denning’s unannounced visit, I’d made myself a copy of her keys, but I’d never used them until now. All vestiges of giving her privacy or of me somehow being a good guy were long gone. I'd be coming back here to check on things, move cameras around in case it seemed likely she might be onto the surveillance.
Do you even care? Do you want her to know you're watching?
That idea tightened something else. I did, in fact, want her to know I was watching her. Would that make her hot? Would that make her breasts heavy and her nipples tight… knowing I was watching? I muttered a curse as my cock throbbed.
Christ. I did not have fucking time for this. Forcing my mind away from thoughts of her touching herself to the idea of me watching her, I focused on the job at hand.
Setting up the cameras was easy. Kitchen, bedroom. I told myself it was necessary. Not that I wanted to spy on her.
Who are you kidding?
When this bomb exploded in my face, and it would, neither of us would back down. And what the fuck would I do if she brought some dodgy bloke back here? Would I watch it?
Yeah, you will, you naughty boy.
I ground my teeth at that. The idea of someone else touching her was enough to set me on edge. I wanted to mark her, to make it clear to all interlopers that they were unwelcome. Particularly in the bedroom.