Chapter One
It starts the same as it ends. Beautifully brutal.
Twenty-four months ago
Maximillian Adorite studied the woman strolling toward him, curious as to why she had graced him with her presence tonight of all nights.
Coincidence?
No. Couldn’t be.
Max didn’t believe in coincidence.
Despite his interest in who she was and why she was there, on the very night when a potential shit storm was brewing around him, he found himself transfixed by her, something that didn’t usually happen to him.
Not like this.
In his world, women were a dime a dozen. He credited that to the wealth and danger that surrounded him. Women liked bad boys, and Max’s reputation definitely qualified him for that list. Then again, the women he shared his time with usually figured that out the morning after, when he—politely, if he had been interested enough to catch her name—asked them to leave.
However, this dark-haired beauty … the one with the most striking eyes he’d ever seen—they literally glowed white—was so intriguing he’d found himself watching her for most of the night. But that was all he’d done. Because this woman wasn’t the type who would warm his sheets for only a few hours. He knew that instantly, and since he wasn’t interested in anything more than a couple of hours, he had fought the urge to introduce himself.
Then again, she knew who he was. He was the very reason she was there, or so he’d been told. It’d been his idea to offer the invitation so he could get more information on her, see her in action. This woman … she was his enemy, and Max was interested in keeping her close, getting to know more about her to determine if she was the threat he’d been told she was.
Not that he was all too worried about what she did or didn’t want from him. Or vice versa.
He could sense by her nearness that she was a distraction he definitely didn’t need. Especially tonight. Seeing as he was the host of this party—or what appeared to be a party from the outside looking in and was, in fact, the announcement of a transfer of power—she was a temptation he should avoid but one he couldn’t bring himself to stray too far from. And here she was, successfully keeping him from his other guests, yet he couldn’t muster an ounce of regret.
“And you are?” he asked innocuously, holding his hand out to greet her when she approached.
“Courtney Kogan,” she replied firmly, a hint of defiance in her raspy tone, in the subtle way she tilted her chin as she spoke. “But I suppose you already knew that.”
A battle of wills.
Very intriguing.
With his hand still hovering between them, he waited for her to slide her fingers against his palm. Never taking his eyes off her face, his gaze locked with hers, Max allowed his brain to process her touch, his body hardening instantly. Bringing her fingers to his lips, he kissed her knuckles softly, inhaling the subtle yet sexy scent of her perfume, something warm and exotic—much like her—with a hint of jasmine and amber wood drifting toward him. Intoxicating.
“Nice to meet you, Courtney Kogan.”
Max hadn’t needed the formal introduction, however; he still would’ve recognized the name, known who she was, who she worked for, and why she was there, but he kept his expression masked.
“Don’t be so sure of that,” she said, a throaty drawl accompanying her words while her satisfied grin hinted at something darker, far more dangerous than what he’d expected from her. From a distance, Courtney had appeared sweet, perhaps a little shy even, but up close, she was anything but.
There was a glimmer of determination in her white-gray eyes, the kohl liner making her look slightly intimidating and a little older than the twenty-four years he knew her to be. The daring smirk on her glossy lips and a hint of a blush on her high, delicate cheekbones contradicted that steely resolve, though.
No, this woman wasn’t sweet or shy. She was a contradiction. A dangerous one if he had to guess.
Max knew all about dark and dangerous. It was his life. He was the son of Samuel and Genevieve Adorite, and Max’s world was entrenched in the dark and dirty underworld that his parents had proudly built around them.
Southern Boy Mafia, they called them.
Max wasn’t one to put labels on himself or his family, but he couldn’t deny the fact that, by definition, that was exactly what they were. Mafia.
No, there weren’t any Italian roots in his family, nor were they tied to any of the five families directly, didn’t have any involvement with the Cosa Nostra, either, but they were, in fact, connected. Even without those direct ties, they were extremely powerful, more so than most people realized, which had brought them to the attention of some of the most formidable families in the world.
His father, Samuel, was the leader of the Adorite family—known to all as the boss. Before him had been Max’s grandfather, Floyd, and before him, Max’s great-grandfather, Andrew. And so on and so forth. Throughout time, control of their extremely profitable businesses had remained within the family, transferring to the eldest male child, although their organization, spanning the vast state of Texas, was made up of much more than that.
Max had recently moved into the position of underboss, a rank within the hierarchy that had been set out for him from the beginning. At least until he would take over the entire organization from his father. Until recently, the second-in-command position had been held by Samuel’s younger brother, Nick. However, since Nick’s stroke three months ago, which had resulted in Max’s uncle being partially paralyzed and suffering from immense neurological damage leaving him unable to make decisions critical to his position, Max had taken over. As had always been the intention.
At twenty-seven, Max was now the second most powerful man in their organization. Despite the number, Max certainly didn’t feel young. In fact, he felt decades older, thanks to the toll this world had taken on him.
Not that he spent his days worried about his next birthday or the chain of command or that the media had dubbed them the Southern Boy Mafia sometime in the late sixties. Business was business, and it just so happened that their family dabbled in plenty of money-making opportunities.
Were they legal? Some of them, sure. Others, no. But that was the way of the world.
Max’s respect for his father and the family ran far and wide, and he’d been born into a life that would forever be based on a strict structure, so Max had fallen into the position as was expected of him, which he took very seriously.
As for his three brothers, Brent, Victor, and Aidan, as well as his two sisters, Ashlynn and Madison, they were all involved in the family business in one way or another, or, as in Victor’s and Madison’s case, they were finishing school before they devoted themselves fully. Both of Max’s youngest siblings were currently in law school. Although the rest of them had all handled their own aspect of the organization as they’d seen fit since the day they’d each turned twenty-one, they still reported directly to Max, always had, even before this change. Not that he was certain what they were doing most of the time, but he made a valiant effort to keep up with them when he could.
The one thing he knew with utmost certainty was that people feared him, feared what his family was capable of. And rightfully so. With the help of his right-hand man, Leyton Matheson, Max fully intended to carry on the business, as well as the family name.
But right here, right now, with this woman in the sparkling silver gown that accentuated her perfect curves—the kind of curves a man could easily grab hold of—he wasn’t worried about business or family, or even money, for that matter.
He was curious as to what her game was.
“And why do you say that?” he probed, amused and intrigued in equal measure.
“No reason,” she stated off-handedly, her gaze sliding down to his mouth briefly before breaking away completely. “I should let you get back to your guests. I merely wanted to thank you for inviting me.”
Max nodded, once again studying her. She was an enigma. Her body language was saying things her luscious lips weren’t, but he could tell with this particular woman, her brain called all the shots. If he had to guess, she didn’t listen much to what her body wanted. Something else that fascinated him where she was concerned.
“I look forward to seeing you later,” he declared. It wasn’t a request, and by the way that her iridescent gaze slammed back to his, she recognized that.
“For your sake, Mr. Adorite, I hope you’re comfortable with disappointment then.” With that, she turned and took two steps in the opposite direction, glancing back at him over her bare shoulder as she said, “Because as far as you and I are concerned, that’s all I have to offer you.”
Another challenge. He liked that about her, as well.
Max watched her go, admiring the sleek lines of her curvy, petite body, the smooth, golden skin of her back, which was completely bare in that halter dress, the generous flare of her hips…
He wondered if she was as soft to the touch as she appeared.
Yes, Courtney Kogan was a decadent temptation, one he hadn’t allowed himself in quite some time.
And Max found himself craving more of her.
He kept his eye on her as she slipped into the crowd, mingling with some of his high-profile guests, including a state senator, a couple of local judges, an overabundance of his own organization, along with, yes, a few of his enemies. What was the saying? Keep your friends close but your enemies closer? That was one he took to heart.
Max glanced to his side when a large body appeared in his peripheral vision.
“Anything you need, sir?” Leyton asked, his keen eyes scanning the room as he stood beside Max.
“I’ve got some preliminary information, but I want you to find out what you can on her,” Max instructed, nodding his head toward Courtney. “Everything you can.”
“Yes, sir.”
With Leyton’s help and some more personal inquiry, by the end of the night, Max fully intended to know more about Miss Kogan.
A lot more.