It's Not Her

ALEJANDRO 

We get back mid-afternoon. Jake is on the sofa, monitoring his clubs like normal, but Zamsii is nowhere in sight. Not that I care. Not one bit.

Sylvester, on the other hand, brushes his hair back before unbuttoning his jacket, the only sign he's as annoyed as I am with today's meetings. It seems the Triad has taken to threatening some of the businesses in the city, demanding they pay them for protection. Not us.

It's a challenge, one we need to rise to. Sylvester's eyes are tight, even as he looks around. "Where is she?"

Jake doesn't even look up. "Hiding from you."

"Why?" Sylvester questions, seeming confused. Zamsii doesn't seem like the type to hide…

"She was snooping upstairs earlier when I caught her." He shrugs, tapping on his screen.

Sylvester sighs and looks over at me. "I'm going to wash today's stink off, I've instructed Black to…have a talk with some of the other businesses to ensure they don't think they have to pay as well."

I nod as he heads upstairs and to his room. Deciding I could go for a shower myself, I head to my room, kicking my door closed and pressing my back against it as I suck in a deep breath.

But with it comes a scent, an unmistakable scent. Like whiskey and sex.

She's been in here.

Fury pounds through me. I snarl as I rip off my shirt and storm to my bag, throwing some punches and getting all my aggression out. How dare she. This is my room! My space! The only place I'm safe and now—now it smells like her!

Not that my body cares, the stupid bastard is hot and heavy, the fragrance wrapping around me and jerking my cock awake in my jeans. Of course the only woman it's reacted to since that cunt would be the one we're keeping prisoner. I don't need another woman, I don't need another fucking complication.

But my cock doesn't care, it twitches in my jeans, pressing uncomfortably against my zipper, so I yank them off and head to the shower, a cold one. But as the freezing spray pounds down on my back, it doesn't even dent the desire surging through me.

Glancing down, I spot the bead of pre-cum at my cock's tip, my vein throbbing on the side. Fuck. It's been way too long, but all of my need was taken away that night. I didn't know if it was because every time I'd even thought about fucking someone that night flashes through my head, dampening my need, or if my cock was just broken.

I didn't care…much.

But now, of all the fucking time, now it's decided to wake up and with a fury. Desire streams through me at every hour of the day. I swear I've fucked my hand more often this last twenty-four hours than I did even as a teenager. Last night, when I went to lie down to sleep, all I could see were those flashing, angry eyes. Her body spinning as she tried to attack me.

I imagined a different ending though, me throwing her over the bar, ripping up those tiny shorts, and pounding into her tight little cunt until she stopped fighting and started screaming.

Shit.

Reaching down, I can't help but squeeze my cock as I imagine her on her knees before me. Those dark eyes blinking up at me, those red lips wrapped around my cock. She would be angry, her nails digging into my skin, her eyes narrowed dangerously. Fuck. Leaning against the wall, I stroke my length as I imagine it, visualising how beautiful she would look naked and tied up, unable to do anything but suck me down. That silver hair soaking and stuck to her head from my hands as I slam into her mouth. Again and again.

With a grunt, my hips stutter as my release crashes through me, spraying across my stomach and the wall. Sighing, I turn the heat up in the shower and wash myself off, disgusted with where my mind is taking me. She's no one, she's just another gold-digging bitch. So what if she had no choice? She will be exactly like the others.

I've learned my lesson, no, Zamsii is a distraction. One we need to get rid of before she destroys everything we have worked so hard to save.

Just then a yell comes from down the hall. Turning off the water, I grab a towel, wrap it around my waist, and head into my room, wrenching open the door. Frowning, I watch a scared-looking Zamsii race down the hall right towards me. She doesn't even look where she's going, just slams into my wet chest. I peer down at her in confusion, and she glares back. We stare each other down.

Her chest is heaving as she glances over her shoulder, so I do the same, spotting Sylvester coming out of his room holding scraps of material in his hand. His eyes are deadly as they lock on to the little woman pressed against me.

She yelps and slips past me, pressing to my back as if I'll protect her. I don't know why, but that makes me puff up, and I glare at Sylvester as I slam the door. Crossing my arms, I turn around and look down at the woman in my room. Right where I didn't want her.

Shit, she's our enemy's daughter. A fucking debt. Nothing else…so why does my heart pound as her eyes run across my destroyed chest? Why do I look away in disgust? She must feel sick looking at me.

Why do I care?

I don't.

"What did you do?" I snap.

She smiles sweetly at me, but it looks wrong on her face. I prefer the scowl, the anger…the heat. "Nothing."

"Don't fucking lie to me. I'll throw you back out there to deal with his wrath," I snarl.

She sighs, losing the innocent façade. Her eyes darken as her hands prop on her hips, her lips curling up in a sneer. "Nothing he didn't deserve."

"And what makes you think I'll save you?" I snap.

Her eyes drag across my chest again, and I stop myself from shrinking away. Fuck her and her opinions. "What happened to your chest?"

I growl, grabbing her throat and slamming her into the wall next to the door. Not cutting off her air supply, just applying pressure, but it's so hard not to squeeze. Especially when her eyes change to those blue mocking ones, her hair turning black and long, her lips thinning out. Shaking my head, I push back the vision, my chest heaving as I struggle to stay in the present. To not kill Zamsii.