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She didn’t leave his side, and she never would.

  Chapter Fourteen

  One week later

  “I don’t want to leave this hospital,” Lewis said, grabbing Mandy’s arm and pulling her to him. Seeing as he still had stitches in his abdomen, he had to make sure not to strain, and Mandy never made it hard for him. She came to him whenever he needed her.

  “Why not?”

  “You’ve given me your undivided attention, and I love that smile on your lips.” He traced a finger over her lips and she took his finger, nibbling it.

  His cock thickened.

  No matter the pain in his stomach, he couldn’t seem to stop his arousal, which always spiked when he was with her.

  “You’re the one who sends me to school. I’ll happily stay by your side. Do you think you can negotiate your big business while you’re staring at me?”

  He groaned. She was right, but he was just so happy. Jamie and the club had informed him of everything else that had happened while he’d been out of it. The club had handled Elijah, and Robert had also been sentenced for his actions in trafficking girls. Their informant in the police force had been compiling evidence about all the cops involved, and during the past couple of weeks, several raids had taken place. Women and girls had been saved, and Lewis felt … content.

  There was never going to be an end to the mission the club had against traffickers. Like Mandy had told them before, when one fell, another rose up.

  What he had been able to do was reflect, and to understand that there was only so much they could do. The club was on the right side, and to him that meant everything.

  Staring into his darling wife’s eyes, he saw a happiness within her that hadn’t been there before. The monster who had tormented her was gone.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He stroked her hair out of the way. “For what?”

  “Even when you were hurting, you still warned me. You’re the best man a woman could ever ask for.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you so much.”

  “It has always been you. For me, there is no one else in this world.” He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her close for another kiss.

  “Are we interrupting?” Blake asked, entering the hospital room.

  They were holding balloons and stuffed teddy bears. Lewis burst out laughing.

  “What are you guys doing?”

  “You’re still sick, and last time we checked, you were still part of the club, and we wanted to give you this.” Jamie handed him an envelope.

  Lewis frowned, taking the envelope. It was an invitation, and when he opened it, he saw it was something the club had made. “What is this?”

  “We’ve decided to cut to the chase,” Blake said.

  “One big event that brings all the MCs together,” John said. “I think it’s going to be awesome.”

  “Who have you sent this out to?” Lewis asked, amazed. The invitation was made from fabric, and showed luxury. He didn’t think it was the best idea.

  “The Skulls, Chaos Bleeds, Dirty Fuckers, Saints and Sinners, you know, several groups of clubs. It could be fun.”

  “Or we could all kill each other,” Lewis said.

  “Nah, we won’t. It’s time we came out and showed them we mean business,” Jamie said.

  “Look at it that you’ll get a chance to host a party,” Mandy said. “Not something like the charity gala either.”

  “You didn’t like the charity gala?” he asked.

  “You guys are all billionaires and businessmen, but I know that’s not who you really are. This is who you really are. Real men, real people, and I think it would be nice for others to see that.”

  He pressed his head against hers.

  The guys stayed, and they talked about teasing the fuck out of the other clubs, maybe doing pony rides for the special event. He truly thought they were crazy, but didn’t say anything.

  When they left, he was happy that it was just him and Mandy.

  “You know this is crazy, right?”

  “Absolutely. I think it’s totally crazy, insane, and stupid, but you know what, who cares? It will either be fun, or a total nightmare, and you’ve got time to organize it.” She shrugged. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “What is it?”

  “I was wondering what you think about having children?” she asked.

  His heart raced. “Are you pregnant?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet, but I was hoping one day soon, I could be. I would really like to be a mother. I don’t want to put it off any longer. I want to be your wife, and the mother of your children.”

  “I should have gotten shot a lot sooner.”

  She burst out laughing.

  “I love you, Lewis.”

  Lewis couldn’t put into words the love he had for this woman. Nothing was ever going to tear them apart, he’d make damn sure of it.

  Epilogue

  Five years later

  Mandy stared down at the box containing all of the books her publisher had sent to her. She needed to sign them, and they were going to mail them out. Her book, her story, had stormed the charts everywhere, and they even wanted to make a movie about it.

  She wasn’t sure her story was for a movie, but then, she did have the happily ever after. The story of a young girl who lived a normal life, the crush on her neighbor, only to be taken, raped, beaten, and forced into submission at the hands of a cruel trafficker. Of course, she had included parts that hadn’t been there originally, the story that Lewis had given her of his fight to find her.

  Their love story, in black and white for all to see.

  People wanted to do interviews, but she declined those. This wasn’t a story that needed questions or interviews.

  “Phew, I tell you, what are we feeding this guy? That has to be the biggest poop in the world,” Lewis said.

  She turned to see her husband holding their one-year-old son.

  Putting the book down, she moved toward them and stroked her son’s cheek before smiling at her husband. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too, babe. I must love you. I can’t believe I offered to change his diaper.”

  She burst out laughing as she took her son from his arms. “They came.”

  He moved toward the box and lifted out a book. “I’m so proud of you, honey.” He pulled her into his arms, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  The past five years had been an emotional roller coaster ride. Of course, her husband was still part of the Billionaire Bikers MC. She’d reconciled with her family, and they were happy with her marriage to Lewis. She didn’t spend much time with them, but she’d gotten to know her sister as well. Having a child hadn’t been easy for Mandy and Lewis, and it had taken many tries along with medical treatment to give her a chance at becoming pregnant. Their son was their miracle.

  She wanted to try again, but for now, she just wanted to focus on what they had.

  Her love for Lewis had only gotten stronger. She loved him more than anything in the world. He was the hero in her story just as he was the hero in her life.

  “You’re a survivor, baby,” he said. “You won.”

  She had won. They had tried to break her spirit, to take her away from everything she had known.

  Lewis tilted her head back. “What would you like to do today?”

  “Anything you want.”

  “Then I want us to stay in all day. Just relax and enjoy being a family.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  The End

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  BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER

  BROKEN BAST
ARD

  Killer of Kings, 2

  Sam Crescent & Stacey Espino

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  “Scarlett, are you being serious? No, I know you’re not being serious, because if you were, you’d be insane,” said Lisa.

  “I have no choice. You heard Carter. He’s going to cut twenty freelancers this year alone.” Scarlett hooked her oversized purse over her shoulder, and then reached for the stack of colored file folders. “I can’t lose this job.”

  “Fine, I get it, but this is suicide.”

  Scarlett rolled her eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

  She made her way to the office elevator, her friend tailing behind her. Her next interview might be unorthodox, and theoretically a bit dangerous, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She’d only been at this company for eight months, officially still on probation, so she’d be one of the first her boss would cut. Scarlett was damn good at what she did. One day she hoped to reach reporter level, but right now she had to give the stories she always found to someone else. The truth was, her boss took the stories she’d researched and gave them to other girls. Still, she was determined to show her worth, and how valuable she could be as a reporter.

  It wasn’t easy getting a personal meeting with Alexei Semenov. He was a big-time crime ringleader, not the biggest, but it would still be headline news. Her boss, Wilson Carter, had to see her value after closing an interview with a name like Semenov. Scarlett was sick and tired of pinching pennies and fighting just to maintain the status quo. She wanted to make something of her career, not to mention she didn’t have enough money for next month’s rent.

  “Are you taking a camera crew?” asked Lisa, holding the elevator door open with her hip.

  “Yeah, like that’s going to happen. Look, I’ll be fine. Promise. Semenov wants to portray a favorable image to the media, so he’s going to be on his best behavior.”

  Lisa sighed. “You’re impossible. See you tomorrow then? I’ll bring the coffee.”

  “Thanks.”

  The doors began to close, and Scarlett watched her friend disappear from view. She wouldn’t admit that her heart raced like a freight train, and her hands felt clammy. If she wasn’t in such a dire predicament, there was no way she’d be heading out to meet one of the most hated men in the city. The man was a Russian mobster, and she had no wingman, camera crew … nothing.

  Forty minutes later, she stopped her Kia Rio in front of a set of massive iron gates. She double checked the address she’d scribbled on a piece of paper, but this was definitely the place. The gates began to open, swinging inwards, so she continued to drive along the long path. She admired the manicured grounds, water fountains, and old-world architecture of the mansion coming into view.

  She took a deep breath as she parked the car. You can do this, Scarlett.

  The sky started turning a mix of orange and pink, signaling the sunset was fast approaching. She didn’t like meeting at night, but she couldn’t get off work early and Mr. Semenov insisted they meet at eight o’clock sharp.

  Scarlett lugged all her supplies out of the passenger side. She’d brought an older model video camera with tripod, voice recorders, paperwork, and her laptop. This was a huge deal, so she wore her best suit, reserved for only the most important occasions. The wine-colored skirt and jacket did a great job at concealing her explosive curves. Her extra weight was only another reason she had to make this work. Wilson Carter only kept the young, thin girls at the front of the house, and the same was true for the news and weather editions of his cable network.

  As she walked up the custom stone staircase toward the entry doors of the house, she was flanked by Alexei Semenov’s security detail. She held her breath as they approached her.

  “I have an appointment at eight o’clock for an interview,” she said before being asked. Scarlett swallowed hard after speaking. The three men didn’t smile, their faces solemn as they glared at her with enough malice to make her question her decision to come. One of the men snatched her bags away from her and began rooting through them, while another patted her down like a common criminal.

  “Mr. Semenov will see you in the sitting room.” Then he opened the door and motioned for her to enter. The foyer was bigger than her entire apartment, with vaulting ceilings and shiny white marble floors. There was enough artwork and stone sculptures in view to fill a small museum. She walked forward, in complete awe. No reporter had been through these doors, so she was one of the privileged few to see the inside the Semenov mansion. It probably helped that she wasn’t a reporter, and there was no mention of her in any of the articles she had been part of, not even as a researcher. She was a nobody, fighting to be a somebody.

  “Sit here,” said another man, pointing to one of the sofas. “He will be with you shortly.”

  She nodded and sat down, resting her bags by her feet. Within minutes she was alone in the sitting room. The place was quieter than a mausoleum. Scarlett tapped her foot, her nervous energy not letting up. The doors to a study were partially open ahead of her, the glow from a desk lamp catching her attention. Should she take some pics? She didn’t want to do anything that might get her into trouble, so she didn’t risk it. Instead, she began to attach the tripod to the clunky old video camera in preparation for the interview. After today, maybe they’d trust her with the newer equipment.

  At just a few minutes to eight, a couple men in suits rushed down the hallway, brandishing handguns. She gasped and froze. There was commotion just out of sight, and then a gunshot shattered a large clay vase, the shards raining down on the marble. Scarlett dropped to her knees and crawled to the end of the sofa to hide. Oh God, why didn’t I listen to Lisa?

  The doors to the study flung open, and a huge man in a navy suit stood in the entryway with an automatic weapon in both hands. He looked like the damn Terminator. She heard different men yelling in Russian but couldn’t understand a word. The big man didn’t even take a step before he collapsed to the ground after another gunshot rang off, the sound echoing in the massive sitting room. Then she saw him, Alexei Semenov, coming around from the grand oak desk in the office. Scarlett recognized him immediately. His stern, wrinkled face was always plastered on the news.

  What the hell is happening?

  Alexei spoke in a cool but arrogant tone, in his own language. Who was he talking to? Then a different man dressed in all black strode toward the office. He came out of nowhere, like a ghost. She noticed the hand holding his gun was covered in ink. In fact, the tattoos even peeked out from the top of his collar, climbing up his neck. He looked like a force, death personified. The two men spoke briefly, a calm exchange, and then she watched as the tattooed man put a single bullet between Alexei’s eyes. It all seemed to happen in slow motion—the gunshot, the spray of blood, the lifeless body crashing to the floor.

  Scarlett let out a scream but quickly covered her mouth with both hands. It was too late. The killer turned his head and looked directly at her crouched down at the end of the sofa.

  He cursed, holstering his weapon, and came toward her. She screamed again, toppling back onto her ass.

  “Shut up,” he said, yanking her to her feet.

  “I’m innocent. Please don’t hurt me…”

  He noticed the video camera equipment on the sofa, and it set him off. With a powerful thrust, he smashed it against the stone floor and stomped it out of existence.

  “You one of his whores?”

  She struggled to speak, completely tongue-tied, so she shook her head. He growled, glancing around the ceiling of the room before grabbing a handful of her suit jacket and tugging her along with him. They ended up in a small, windowless room with wall to wall surveillance equipment. Probably every room in the house was being filmed on the small televisions, including every angle of the property. He took something out of his jacket, slapping it down on the desk. He hunched over, but she couldn’t see past his massive frame. When he stood back up, she saw
the explosive device with a timer rigged to it. Forty-five seconds and counting.

  She stared with her mouth agape. Was she dreaming? No, this was definitely a nightmare, one she wished she could wake up from. Things like this didn’t happen to women like her. Scarlett could imagine the headlines now: Thirty-six-year-old spinster dies grisly death, leaving behind no one and nothing. God, how pathetic. She nearly began to cry thinking of all the life she’d wasted. At least someone at her office would get a headline story out of this mess, but it sure wouldn’t be her.

  Before she could react, he pulled her through the hallway, shooting every man that came into view with the pistol in his free hand. When they were in the parking area, the bomb in the surveillance room went off, the ground quaking beneath her feet. She flailed, but he had an iron grip on her arm. When she saw her piece of shit car, she wondered if she could get free long enough to make a break for it. Then she remembered her keys were in her purse, still in the sitting room.

  “Please let me—”

  “Don’t fucking speak,” he warned, his voice deep and authoritative. He popped open the trunk of a black BMW and shoved her in. She screamed and kicked, but he only slammed the trunk down over her, blanketing her in darkness.

  ****

  Fuck! Fuck!

  This was Bain’s first official contract working for Killer of Kings, and he’d wanted to prove himself a valuable asset. He knew the rules: no witnesses and a clean hit, nothing unusual from his other work. Bain wanted to send the woman in his trunk straight to hell, but she didn’t look like she belonged at Semenov’s place. Cops didn’t give a shit about dead criminals, but an innocent victim would lead to investigations and news reports. If it got back to Boss that his mission wasn’t clean, he’d look like a fucking amateur.