The Secrets We Keep (Maven of Mayhem, #1)

by Mila Sin

My body has been through the wringer with the line of work I'm in. I'm quite tall, coming in at five foot ten, have a nice figure, more hourglass than anything else, with a full bust and wide hips. Tattoos cover the entire right side of my body, including my limbs, while the left is clear of any markings aside from the rune scars on my lower stomach.

King calls this an homage to my split personality.

I pull the curved knife from a slot between my stiletto heel and the sole of my shoe. Jabbing the knife into the dark wood in front of me, I level a glare at De La Cruz. "No." One word and a gesture conveys my profound disagreement with his last statement. Not too many people in this room would go against me, considering all the information I've gathered over the years. But sometimes, someone gets bold if they think they’ll have support.

Force of impact and bruising indicates a male assailant around six-feet tall. Time of death was between five and six this morning."

Thank God Han makes me do so much cardio. Must never mention I'm grateful, or he'll make me do more.

Rogue Assassin. Okay, so maybe "Assassin" isn't his last name, but fuck if I know what it is. We've seen his work periodically over the years, and we want him on our side. We've only heard the name whispered like a boogeyman for the genuinely vile but haven't managed to locate him in the two years we've been actively looking.

The truth is, we need Rogue. He seems to be the only one on the board of The Gambit with a hint of integrity. Our organizations have been working together for a while now, using each other's skill sets to slowly gain more control in the criminal world. He'd be a useful connection because of his discerning nature regarding his hits. No one in that organization has morals based on the rumors we’ve heard and the grip they keep on the state. But we’re operating on the theory that he just might and wants to be rid of his bosses.

Lucas grouses. He's getting sick of the run-around, too. This hitman has managed to evade us for an embarrassingly long amount of time.

Lucas brings a lightheartedness our team desperately needs in our day to day, while I often lend a bit of gravity to situations—intentionally or otherwise.

I hear them arguing before I see them. Lucas loves to get under Jacob's skin about everything. Jacob likes to ignore Lucas until it drives him insane from lack of attention. They're worse than siblings; they're unlikely friends. After turning off the music, Jacob leads the way out of his room. He adjusts his black-framed glasses on his nose and rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt. He always looks like he’s going for a board meeting, but the tattoos lining his jaw and reaching all the way to his toes say otherwise. He definitely wasn’t meant for corporate work.

Jacob's tattooed fingers rest on Lucas's shoulder as he steers him to the tech room, giving him a hearty shove when he tries to take Jacob's fancy white gaming chair.

It's not safe for women to walk this area alone in the dark. Unless, of course, you're a scarier monster than the ones who go bump in the night around here. Boo, motherfuckers.

I followed who I assume is Rogue's girlfriend as she left the apartment building in the car we tracked from the alleyway kill.

In a move faster than I've seen in a long time, the woman spins in place, using the front seat as a springboard, and launches herself into the backseat. There's a butterfly knife pressed to my neck. Where the fuck did she pull that from? "Hey, Buttercup. Want to put that down?"

She presses the blade a bit harder against my neck. There's a sharp sting suddenly poking my groin, and I realize she's got a second knife pressed to my dick. Not a great first meeting.

I just wanted to chat and see if we could set up a meeting with him, not get a knife to the cock. Turns out either this woman is Rogue, or she's been trained by him. The steady hands and stern look on her face make me pretty damn confident this is Rogue.

"Who the fuck are you?" she asks. Oh, fuck. Her voice is raspy and like being wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold, snowy night—a cup of tea with honey in one of my unique, witty mugs on a sore throat. Somehow I've become a poet for this woman, and we've only exchanged a handful of words.

"It got cold." I've got to admit she does not look amused. Fuck, that's my whole personality! What am I supposed to do? Act serious? Pffft, that's not really my style. But alas, desperate times.

"Please, let me explain. We've been looking for you for years. Years. We finally caught a break, and you. You need us as much as we need you. I mean, if we can catch you, who says the dirty cops in this town can't as well? We have a proposal for you."

I'm done. Rogue's amazing. I love her. Can I keep her? I scramble to exit the car after her, trailing her like a lost puppy begging for scraps. Her ass is perfect in her black dress. It hits at her knees with a slit running high up her thighs in the back, and her hair tumbles down her back like an inky waterfall.

Her red lips tip up in a small smile, she winks, and I grin back. "See you Tuesday, Buttercup."

She kept her back to the camera and used the dumpster to hide while she shed her shirt and threw on a hoodie. The angle was all wrong, too. With her height, she could be anyone. Male or female.

She drives a very distinctive car; a beast of a car, really. I swear Han almost jizzed with joy when he caught sight of it on the traffic cam.

Mech and Tech—aka Han and Jacob—tend to get a little overzealous about their areas of expertise.

The group text agreed to only have one of us approach her. I seem to look the most harmless.

He howls with laughter, the earlier look clouding his face wiped away. I let it go because Han usually needs to process things on his own before bringing them to any of us.

I'm pretty sure if she hadn't had a knife pointed at my cock, I would have proposed."

No one expects killers to be gorgeous women in skirts and heels." I could hear the admiration in his tone when talking about her work ethic. You didn't rise up from the streets like Han did without some impressive determination and ambition. He recognizes that drive in others and fosters it when he catches glimpses of it in us.

To be honest, I also have this burning need to know why his demeanor changed so suddenly. Playful and charming with his amber eyes sparkling one minute and sounding like he was choking the next. Odd one, that guy. Pretty, but odd. He's attractive; I'll give him that. His dark, reddish-brown hair was styled to one side, the top long and the sides short. He had freckles across the bridge of his nose. His eyes flared wide when he felt the poke of the knife in his groin. He filled the space in the back seat well with his tall frame. Under other circumstances, I'd have had him flat on his back in seconds.

It occurs to me that Lance, Luke, Logan, Lars, or whatever the fuck his name was, said he would text. But that wasn't supposed to be until Tuesday.

Unknown: Hey, Buttercup. Whatcha doing? Unbelievable. It's not even about the meeting, but the little nickname confirms it's him.

Red: Oooh, I have a nickname already. And you're Buttercup. So basically, we'll be getting married and giving adorable crotch goblins nicknames in no time. I can't wait. :wink emoji: My eyes roll so hard; I swear I can see into the past.

His voice got wistful at some points, and it's part of the reason I'm anxious today. Lucas doesn't take a lot of stuff seriously aside from his job, but his voice was reverent as he detailed how she had a knife aimed at his cock. Only Lucas would find that a turn-on. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Han's expression grew melancholy as time went on, and he withdrew for the rest of the evening.

Life for me is chaotic on the darknet, and my schedule's rigidity helps keep me focused and reminds me to take necessary breaks when I'm in the middle of a deep-dive.

My requirement for a schedule, a plan. Han's need to take care of someone. When I end up in a deep-dive online and lose track, he’s always there to pull me away and get me back to where I should be.

We just happen to cause arbitrary bouts of chaos for our Dear Leader, if only to see that little vein pulse on his forehead.

I narrowly avoid his shoulder as we turn the corner. He just laughs, shakes his head, and continues scratching his ass as he makes his way to the lounge.

We want her to work with us, not have Lucas drooling after her like an obsessive stalker.

She's pissed. Lucas does a final pat down once she's steady on her feet. How in God's name is she steady in four-inch heels and a blindfold?

a breath catches in my chest. Holy shit. She has hair like a vintage pinup model, a black fitted top, and ripped jeans with those damn stilettos that make her legs look impossibly long. Tattoos of everything from flowers to faces to Sailor Jerry-themed artwork cover half of her body from her neck down to the glimpses of skin I can see through the holes in her jeans on her right leg.

Although, with the look in his eye, it seems as though his take-down was metaphorical. He's doing his best not to be obvious about it, but I see him looking at her face a second too long. His gaze flicks down her body, and as he trails the tattoos dripping down to her fingers, his brow quirks.

"Ivy?" Han's voice rasps out in disbelief. Her head whips to Han, who's standing next to Noah. "Han?" she sputters out as she looks at him in amazement. A few seconds pass as she studies his face, then scans him from head to toe. "Holy shit, it is you!"

She leaps off the ground, and in a flash, she's got her arms wrapped around Han's neck and her legs around his waist. They're engaged in a fierce hug. I see his face peeking out from her mane of black hair, and his ey...

grins on both their faces as Han slowly spins her in a circle. Bloody Christ, her smile is dangerous. He twirls her with more zeal, and she lets out a laugh that reaches my ears.

"Gorgeous," Han starts, "this is Jacob Waters." He leans in and whispers to Rogue, "He'll make you wet."

Han takes her tattooed hand when she withdraws it from mine. He pauses as he bends over her knuckles and kisses them. "Hi, Gorgeous. I'm floored to see you again, but I think we need a new introduction. I'm Han. I'm responsible for mechanics, weaponry, and health. What knife did you use in the alley?"

Don't let on that you know, but he prefers the fieldwork to the bureaucratic nonsense." Noah nods and says a hello, giving her hand a firm, brief shake.

Han continues as he rubs his arm. "You've met Lucas, who has already informed us that you're getting married this spring. Best wishes and congratulations. Although, with the way you took him down, I'd say the relationship is on the rocks."

Regaining my composure from the shock of our new recruit being a fucking goddess,