by Eve Langlais
Contents
Introduction
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Copyright © 2019, Eve Langlais
Cover Art Razz Dazz Design © 2018-2020
Produced in Canada
Published by Eve Langlais ~ www.EveLanglais.com
eBook ISBN: 978 177 384 145 8
Print ISBN: 978 177 384 146 5
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email, photocopying, and printing without permission in writing from the author.
Introduction
Poor Ted never imagined the trouble he’d get into when he decided to help out a single mother, but he’s ready for the challenge—if she’ll give him a chance.
A decade ago, Portia escaped an abusive situation by faking her death. With the help of the Killer Moms agency, she arranged protection for herself and the twins. Even better, she got a second chance at life.
But she always worried that her past would catch up with her one day.
When she comes face to face with a man she knew in high school, she struggles to keep her secret even as he makes her want to give in to temptation.
She can’t afford distraction. Her daughters need her full attention if she’s going to keep them safe from their father.
When the worst happens, though, she won’t have any other choice but to trust Ted and put not just her life in his hands, but also her girls’.
Will this Tiger Mom manage to find her happily ever after?
Looking for more Eve Langlais romantic suspense?
Prologue
The night she witnessed Ronin murder his cousin—the blade he pulled from a pocket sliding with ease into Aroon—Macey knew she had to leave. Not because he’d killed someone. She’d always known he had a rough edge to him, the capacity for violence. Ronin hadn’t become the head of his family because he followed the rules. It was one of the things that attracted her.
What she feared was how easily he could be provoked. He’d killed his favorite cousin, and for what? Because Aroon bought the same car as Ronin, down to the color.
Some people would have taken that as a compliment. Ronin saw it as Aroon trying to hedge in on his power base. His pride couldn’t handle it.
So Ronin, without warning or chance of apology, killed his favorite cousin.
If he could do that to Aroon, what would he do to Macey? She’d rather leave before she found out.
But how could she escape? After two years of dating, Ronin controlled almost every aspect of her life. From the apartment he set her up in, to ensuring that his driver took her to the research institute and back home.
As he often told her: You belong to me.
Once upon a time, Macey had thought those words exciting. Thrilling, to have a powerful man like Ronin paying her attention. Now, they resembled a threat.
Ronin turned from the slumping body, Aroon’s eyes open in shock, his lips parting on one last sigh. Despite having killed someone, Ronin’s expression and demeanor remained calm. She would wager that this wasn’t his first time or even his second. Too nonchalant for that.
For Macey, though? It was a first, and her stomach churned.
This can’t be happening. Aroon can’t be dead.
While Macey had never particularly liked the man, he didn’t deserve to die. Why would Ronin let her see him doing this?
This wasn’t good.
Not good at all.
Macey kept her gaze from Aroon’s chest where the red stain blossomed.
“That went better than expected.”
“Better, how?” she almost bitterly exclaimed.
Ronin snapped his fingers and reminded her they weren’t alone. Chen stood nearby—the equivalent of Ronin’s right-hand man. Almost a business partner. Or, if looking at it with a more villainous bent, Chen the henchman.
“I hate it when they cry and whine.” Silent until now, Chen stepped forward from his spot by the doorway, entering into the otherwise sealed room.
A slender man dressed in a velvet tracksuit, navy blue with a white stripe, he reveled in his position as Ronin’s most trusted associate. Which was the polite term. In reality, Chen worked for Ronin.
“Some people have no honor,” Ronin agreed. He’d chosen to dress casually this evening in a designer knockoff of the bad boy image—jeans, strategically worn and ripped. An athletic and slim-fitting, short-sleeve tee in matte black. Over the top, a leather jacket—no colors, no markings. He didn’t need to announce his name. People simply knew who Ronin was.
“You know what to do with it.” Its edge glistening with blood, Ronin handed the murder weapon to Chen.
“Consider it done.” Chen wrapped the knife in a cloth and then pulled out a plastic bag. That took a level of preparation that indicated premeditation. With the murder weapon tucked away, Chen nudged the body with a booted foot. “Full disappearance, or do you want him found as a lesson?” Chen spoke in English. All of Ronin’s friends, family, and coworkers did when Macey was around. He’d said it would be rude to do otherwise, given that she didn’t speak their language. She was learning slowly, though, enough that she caught hints of Ronin’s true business. It wasn’t just exporting cheap goods and drugs. Apparently, he was fond of weapons, too.
Repeat after me: Mob boyfriends are only hot in books. Once reality had set in, it became terrifying.
“Have him found. Publicly, if you can. Apparently, a reminder is needed as to who is in charge and what happens to those who trespass against me.”
Trespass? He’d murdered someone over a freaking car. She had to wonder what petty thing would set Ronin off next.
Maybe the way she chewed on her toast. He’d remarked upon it just last week. How about the fact that she hated swimming? Anything might be grounds for him to do the same thing to her.
I could die next. And she’d only have herself to blame.
Her stupidity practically slapped her. She’d seen the signs and ignored them. The way people didn’t just defer to Ronin but feared him. The way his temper could flare, not loudly or violently, not with heated outbursts, but with cold precision. He knew just how to verbally cut so she’d apologize.
She’d been doing that a lot of late. He always made it seem so logical that she was in the wrong. Always wrong.
Too tired to go out? She obviously didn’t value their time together. Didn’t she love him?
Of course, I love you, Ronin. The words fell with familiarity from her lips. And they used to mean something. She’d loved him in the beginning.
Now, she had to wonder if something was wrong with her because how could she love such a cold monster?
In her defense, it seemed romantic in th
e books she read, the movies and shows she watched. Alpha males were assertive, commanding, even violent if tested. But not many could argue their sexiness.
Even now, she wouldn’t deny Ronin’s good looks. When she’d come to China from the US to study, her friends had tried to convince her that Asian men weren’t hot.
She dared them to say that about Ronin. His body was a finely tooled example of physical perfection. Muscles honed. A few inches taller than she. His skin smooth.
But his better-than-average appearance didn’t indicate his character.
Given the things she’d gleaned of late, she’d come to the startling and chilling conclusion that Ronin might be a psychopath. A narcissist for sure. Definitely a control freak. And a mobster. A rich and very powerful one. One who could kill his cousin, a guy he’d grown up with, and casually brush it off.
Where did that leave her?
She clenched her fists rather than hug herself. He’d notice. She didn’t want him looking at her right now.
Chen grabbed the body, Aroon’s face, a man she’d seen more than a few times, slack. Dead. She couldn’t help it. Her gorge rose. She turned around and threw up. It wasn’t pretty. And it lasted longer than it should have before her stomach ceased heaving.
Damn Ronin for being by her side, a hand on her back. Concerned.
“Just let it out,” he soothed. “You’ll feel better.”
Except she didn’t feel better. She felt worse as she wiped a hand across her mouth and straightened. It occurred to her that Ronin had an ulterior motive in bringing her to witness Aroon’s death this evening. It was a warning to her.
See what happens if you don’t keep me happy.
Macey had been picking petty squabbles with Ronin of late. Little things that thus far he’d let slide. How long before he retaliated?
It chilled to realize that he might hurt her. Hurt… She kept her gaze averted from her midsection. It had come as such a shock, and yet when she’d missed her period, something that had never happened since she’d started having one, she’d immediately bought the kit. Only hours ago, she’d spent a few tense minutes in the bathroom with a pee-covered stick.
She’d read the box twice to be sure of the results, then had buried the evidence of the pregnancy in a garbage bag, which she took to the chute down the hall of her building immediately after.
Pregnant. With Ronin’s child.
I can’t stay. This man should never be a daddy.
“I think I should go home and lie down.” The truth, though? She didn’t want to spend any time with Ronin but knew better than to say anything aloud. She’d end up with another three-hour lecture, being berated and explained to, passive-aggressively, how she’d let him down. How he tried so hard. How much he loved her.
Sometimes, she thought it would be quicker if Ronin just slapped her. A quick burst of pain, an apology, and it would be over.
Then that wish had become a reality, and she realized the stinging pain wasn’t any better because it roused a burning shame inside her. She’d always been a girl to state that she’d never let a man hit her. A woman who considered herself equal to men. Yet when Ronin had left a mark on her flesh as punishment, she’d ended up being someone who apologized for her behavior. Then had sex with him.
How could she escape the vicious cycle?
“My love, of course, you need to rest. Come. My car is just outside.” He placed a steadying—vise-tight—arm around her waist and walked her to the exit door where he’d parked the car by the warehouse on their way to dinner. Given it wasn’t the first time he’d made this kind of stop, she’d thought nothing of it. More often than not, he left Macey in the car and popped inside for a few minutes. If he knew it would take longer, he sat her in his office, usually on his lap, while he dealt with issues in front of her. Brisk. Firm. Commanding. The sex on his desk after was always excellent but not worth the rest.
She had to wonder how many other times he’d killed and then nonchalantly rejoined her to enjoy a multi-course meal.
The car took them right to the condo, and Ronin escorted her upstairs. She couldn’t fault his manners. Always courteous. Technically, the perfect boyfriend. So, why did she scream so often inside her head?
They entered the large condo—the penthouse, of course. Only the best for his love. When Macey had first arrived in China on a research grant, she’d been living in a tiny apartment where she could practically cook from her bed. Then she’d met Ronin at a function given by the company that she worked for.
They fell hard and fast for each other. Soon, he moved her out of her cramped place and paid for everything. Since he had a key, Ronin came and went as he pleased. Mostly, he stayed with Macey, sometimes spending the night on the couch with her just watching movies—hopping away every so often to deal with business. Other times, he joined her in the kitchen to cook.
And he was supportive when it came to the work she did at the institute. As a newly graduated scientist, she worked hard to make her mark.
So what if her boyfriend killed people who annoyed him or got in his way? The movies claimed he was sexy.
Now, he scared her and posed a threat to the baby growing inside her.
I have to leave.
The thought had gotten persuasive when, about three months ago, his mask had slipped for a moment. He’d said something sharp and cruel to her: “You should count yourself lucky I chose you over others who could bring me more status.” And the reason for the insult? She’d wanted to work late in the lab rather than join him for a party.
He’d apologized profusely and skipped the gala, bringing her food and flowers. Manipulation. She knew it then, knew it more now, and yet it generally seemed easier to go with the flow.
Ronin moved for the fridge. He kept it stocked for her. Stocked for his girlfriend.
His mistress.
Or as a few of the eligible ladies had hissed to Macey, his whore.
Rather than pull out a bottle of wine or something with liquor, he chose some fancy, bubbly soda. The top popped, and he poured some into two fluted glasses, the foam rising and stopping just before the rim. Ronin handed her one and lifted the other.
“Are we celebrating something?” she asked, trepidation making the words slightly quiver.
“We will be. Look inside your glass.” His lips held a hint of a smile. What had he done now?
The foam cleared, and a peek at the bottom of her drink showed a ring. Her stomach clenched. Oh, no.
The nightmare compounded.
Ronin dipped to one knee. “Marry me.” No flowery speech accompanied the demand. When it came to the most important things, Ronin believed in being direct.
She knew the answer he expected. The one he wanted. Yet that symbol on the stick she’d peed on changed everything. She had to at least try.
“I don’t know if I’m ready.”
Nothing marred his expression. It remained steady as Ronin stared at her. “Not ready.”
Not even a question, yet she babbled to expand her reply. “I’m barely out of school, and I’ve still got at least a year left of work on my contract.”
“I know.” No context. Nothing but a flat stare that went from her face to her stomach.
Everything in her froze. He couldn’t know. She’d just found out. He was guessing. Yet there was something in his gaze… Certainty and patience as he waited to hear her lie.
How would he know if she lied?
The realization blossomed. How could she have been so blind? “You’ve been spying on me!”
He didn’t even try to deny it. “The condo comes with many enhanced security features that allow monitoring of every room.”
“And you’ve been watching me?”
“We live together, what exactly don’t I see already? Do you have secrets, my love?” Spoken as a deadly threat.
Oh, God. He’d seen her that morning. Knew…
Her gaze flitted to the ceiling in her place, the pictures, the furniture. All this time
, everything she’d done, he’d been watching.
“You had no right,” she huffed. She couldn’t help the anger, even as she braced for his reply.
“I own you.” Three words that didn’t sound so hot right now.
“No, you don’t.” She found her inner strength and defied him, bolstering her courage with the thought of what she now had to protect.
“Actually, I do. You carry something of mine.” He stood and placed his free hand on her belly, which contracted.
It almost occurred to her to declare that it wasn’t his. But that might be worse.
“I just found out. I was going to tell you once I confirmed it with a doctor. Make the announcement special.” She sought the words to diffuse the coldness in his gaze.
“I’m sure you were. But, my love, I can’t let you go through this alone. I will be with you every step of our child’s journey.”
The nightmare worsened. “We shouldn’t go crazy yet. I haven’t even seen a doctor or anything.”
“Nor have you replied to my proposal. You do want to marry me, right, my love?”
“This all seems so fast.” She wavered on her feet and could feel her heart racing, the panic very real.
“How is this fast? We’ve been together for a while. Marriage is the next step.” He stared at her, and she knew the correct reply.
But her stomach churned, and she couldn’t say it. The panic in her swelled, quick and uncontained.
Instead, she blurted, “I can’t marry you.”
“Why?”
If she listed the reasons, he’d kill her. And the baby. She placed a hand over her belly. “The only reason you’re marrying me is because you think I am carrying your child. What if you find out I’m not, and the test was wrong?”