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He was ballsy enough to approach me; maybe he could cure my shitty mood tonight. Best way to get over a guy was to get under a new one, right?
I was a successful, twenty-three-year-old businesswoman and the head of a crime syndicate. I was a cold-blooded killer and a merciless bitch to anyone who crossed me. To everyone who'd met me or heard of me in the years since my family's near massacre, I was all of those things rolled into one intimidating, fear-inducing name. Hades. The leader of the Tri-State Timberwolves.
"I never picked you for a sub, Hades. You legitimately ooze big dick energy worse than any gangster I've met. I can't imagine you giving up control in any situation."
Typical Zed, he never missed an opportunity to play white knight. Some things never changed, and I would never want them to.
Hayden Darling Timber was my birth name, and for all my legal businesses I was Daria Wolff, CEO of Copper Wolf Enterprises.
Her newest best friend had briefly used it, but only because my asshole sister had introduced me as Dare, rather than Hades. No one had filled the poor girl in until she’d known me a good four months, too.
"I'm not asking for forever, Hayden. Just a chance. You carry so much weight on your shoulders... Let me be an outlet for all that stress, beautiful. I could be your lighthouse if you let me."
Finding nothing alarming in the news, I flicked over to the obits. They were in alphabetical order, and I was pleasantly surprised at the sincerity of the first few I read. Then I reached the Ds. Darling, I miss you more with every passing day. Five years has gone in the blink of an eye, but we'll meet again soon. I promise. I'll chase you.
He gave a small nod, the lines of his face still tight and his fingers clenched in a fist. "I love you, Dare. More than anyone. Ever."
The path back into my good graces was going to be paved with broken glass and jagged rocks.
"Appreciate your work." The fire chief gave us another nod, then hesitated a moment, his gaze taking in the many patches of dressing dotted all over me. "If you don't mind me saying, sir, you're goddamn immortal. That blast should have killed you, and you've only got a couple of scrapes to show for it."
Madison Kate must be a fucking saint to willingly commit her life to three meathead men; I'd probably rather become a celibate nun than inflict self-torture like that.
