Marrying the Mob Prince

KNOX

I could be obsessive.

Some would say to a criminal degree.

I headed the biggest cybersecurity firm in the country, but lately I’d spent more hours dissecting Indie’s online activity than on my actual work. I searched her emails for keywords. I dove through her social media page. Anything to explain her stubbornness.

A day after I’d found her at Sanctum, she was on my mind more than ever. Plus, my head pounded with a vicious tension headache. Like five hangovers stacked on each other. I couldn’t believe she’d gone there. The sight of her naked, her hand on Cainan’s thigh, burned into my mind like a hot poker.

My imagination ran wild with gruesome images.

You’re losing your mind.

I sucked in air and blew it out, the sound cutting through the conversation. People seated around the conference table turned in their seats to stare. My heart slowed to a canter and I forced my attention to the tedious stakeholder meeting. I met the potent glare of a white-haired fossil.

I cleared my throat.

“Mr. Knox, you have less than four months to pull this off. Your team is not completing its milestones.” The Secretary of Defense glared through the projected screen. “What is taking so long?”

What the hell is wrong with her?Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Why can’t she admit she wants me?

I clenched my jaw so hard that pain shot into my teeth.

“Mr. Knox,” the man shouted. “Why aren’t we advancing?”

“Apologies, Mr. Secretary. We’re waiting for the software company to finish a required update to the firmware of their network firewalls, which is delaying the project. Zenocorp is prioritizing other work due to a hack on their servers. Right now, it’s all hands on deck to fix that before they can complete the changes we need for Vega. They are in the critical path, and there’s nothing we can do.”

He gave me a tight nod and sighed, swallowing that line of bullshit whole. The Department of Defense was our sponsor for the Vega project. They’d contacted Black Prism to redesign router and VPN firmware to improve security. I’d proposed an ambitious firmware that would detect viruses and hackers by allowing them in a blocked area of server networks and trick them into thinking they’d infiltrated the company. Then we’d analyze their tactics and discover where they were connecting from. First, we needed to complete the prototype.

It was all very hush-hush. High stakes. Hundreds of millions hung in the balance, but I was more excited about the access to government data. That alone would make me the most powerful businessman in the free world, and yet I’d almost tanked this deal.

The meeting ended.

I plastered on a smile until the connection dropped, then I wheeled around, facing the three idiots who’d put me in this position. I was in no mood for people who’d let me down.

“What’s your explanation for lying to me about the biggest contract in this company’s history?”

The PM, a thirty-four-year-old divorce with liens on his property, drummed his fingers on the table. His white button-up stuck to his chest. “It’s complicated. I have minimal resources and I need a firmware change on a Zenocorp router. The problem is I can’t get proprietary details on a specific model the Pentagon uses in front of the database servers.”

“You told me we were on target.”

“I apologize, Mr. Knox. We were trying to deal with this ourselves with Zenocorp before we escalated to this level.”

I allowed that to hang in the air, suffocating the room. Everyone worked themselves into a frenzy-bouncing their knees, their pupils dilating, and clearing their throats. I recognized the physical manifestations of fear despite the sensation escaping me.

I took a giant step forward.

“It’s not our f-fault,” the PM stammered, his palm sliding off the chair. “The CEO of Zenocorp won’t budge. Hamilton keeps saying he can’t give that information out. He wants more details.”

“Make him sign an NDA.”

“He’s refusing to do that, too. We’re stonewalled.”

“The second Hamilton turned you down, you should’ve run to my office. Not lie to your fucking CEO and wait until the stakeholder meeting to bring up a major problem.”

“I realize that-”

“Don’t interrupt me. You’re gambling with the most lucrative deal we have ever made. Our RSUs will take a nosedive if this falls through.”

“I thought I could handle it.”

“You can’t. You’re fired.”

The PM’s trembling chin lowered to his chest. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and then he rose to his feet. His watery gaze met mine, flinching. “Please, sir. Give me another chance. I have to pay my mortgage this month.”

“Go fuck yourself!”

He clenched his teeth, his breathing ragged. “I’ve been working twelve-hour days to make sure this project is up to speed.”

“And you failed.”

“It’s not my fault!”

I glared at my phone. “I have no time for morons.”

“Screw you,” he shouted, stunning me. “You’re a drain on this city, and I hope they put you in jail. You’re pathetic.”

He hurled the words like stones, but they disintegrated on my red-hot chest.

Pathetic?

I finished four years at MIT before my balls dropped. I started Black Prism at eighteen.

Who the fuck was this guy?

What gave him the right to talk to me like this?

My vision flashed with crimson. Heat flared to my wrist, which seized his neck. I smashed his head into the wall, opened the door, and shoved him out. His skinny ass bounced on the floor before he landed in a crumpled heap, eyes widened and wet.

I tossed his bag after him. “Leave before you can’t even find a job with the Geek Squad!”

He scrambled to his feet, muttering something about a lawsuit before he disappeared into the path lined with azaleas. A man working on a bench peered at him before his attention riveted back to his laptop.

Sheep. Useless sycophants.

I gave zero shits what people thought of me. They called me Tyrant in the press, and I laughed because it was true. I was a domineering bastard.

But it bothered me that the only woman who mattered to me had joined the ranks of everyone else who hated me. God, I wanted her. And the more she refused me, the more I craved her submission. I was so lost in the suffocating tension coiling in my chest that I didn’t notice Valerie’s hovering presence until she cleared her throat.

“Mr. Knox, the Herald keeps reaching out for a comment on the St. Luke’s demolition project. If you’re reconsidering, this is your last chance. The story’s dropping on Friday.”

“Fuck them.”

“And I informed HR and the PMO of your decision to terminate Mr. Hastings.”

I shook my head. “Good.”

“Should I cancel your dinner reservation?”

I glanced at my petite assistant, a curvy blonde who wore her hair in a severe ponytail. The low-cut blouses and figure-hugging dresses distracted my clients, which was part of the reason I hired her. She’d also made enough passes at me to warrant a complaint to HR, but I kept her around because she was loyal. I regarded her like I did most women-she was just tits and a mouth. I could’ve bent her over my desk and gotten off, but loyalty was hard to find these days.

“Mr. Knox?” Valerie prodded gently. “Should I tell them you’ll be late?”

“Cancel it. Is there anything else?”

“No.”

I rubbed my temples. “If that’s all, you can go.”

Val’s light eyes met mine, a question forming in her gaze. She opened and closed her mouth. Then she reached over and grasped my shoulder, flooding my muscles with tension.

“Are you okay?”

My stare drilled into her hand until she removed it from my person, and then I shifted my glare to her blushing face.

“Go home.”

She sucked in a tight breath and did exactly as she was ordered, turning on her heel and trotting away like an obedient dog. She was nothing like Indie, who had to be told something five times before she did it, if she obeyed me at all.

My throat constricted.

I needed to find Cainan and tear him a new asshole. If he ever touched her again, I didn’t know what I’d do. He was better off in a coma than in my hands. Because if he challenged me, I would destroy him.

Indie needed to be where she belonged.

My bed.