Lochlan

What sin had I committed that the universe seemed so intent on punishing me?

The girl from the coffee shop—Millie—continued to speak to Mrs. R and Alex, providing information about her life since they found her as a toddler. How she ended up in foster care and eventually ran away to escape the system. They were eating it up, each one of their barriers falling down as she charmed them with her enormous eyes and wavering smile. Falling into her carefully laid trap just as surely as I had.

Which brought me back to the question of punishment. For the first time in years, I had felt a spark with a woman, one that was more than pure physical attraction, and she was a fucking con artist. That might have been forgivable if her sights weren't set on my family, and pretending to be Marianna was a crime I could never overlook. Her loss—and my role in it—haunted my every waking moment, and every meeting with these imposters twisted the knife of guilt and pushed it a little deeper.

"And who is your friend?" Mrs. R asked at last, giving the hulking man at Millie's side a bright smile.

I straightened and waited for the answer with bated breath, my temper already rising in anticipation of hearing he was her lover. Alex, seeing my movement out of the corner of his eye, cut me a warning look.

"I'm Marcus," he answered, thrusting out his manicured hand. "I'm Millie's b—"

"Best friend," she blurted, cutting him off and purposefully not looking at me. Interesting. "His mother took me in when I was a freshman in high school. Marcus was away at college already, but he welcomed me into the family just like his mom did."

"Oh, how wonderful," Mrs. R said.

Yes. Wonderful. If it was true, and I highly suspected, every other word that came out of her perfect pouty mouth was a lie. It disturbed me that my urge to throttle the man lessened almost immediately.

"Well, Millie. I don't know if you're my missing daughter," Mrs. R continued, touching a finger to the corner of her eye to stop a tear from rolling down her cheek. "But speaking as a mother, I'm grateful you found good people in your life to take care of you."

"I definitely did," Millie said, rising. "We should probably get out of your hair for now. I really appreciated you taking the time to see us today."

"Oh, no," Mrs. R exclaimed, "You should stay here."

"What?" Alex choked out, even as Marcus and Millie gasped.

Mrs. R wrung her hands. "I would very much like to get to know you better, and the DNA tests will take some time to get back."

"Mom, I don't think this is the best idea," Alex cautioned, jutting his chin in my direction as if to tell me now would be the perfect time for another one of my outbursts.

But I kept my mouth shut, an idea forming in my mind. My earlier behavior hadn't been helpful to anyone. Millie was too smooth, and her lies were too well crafted. Exposing her would require me to remain calm and focused. But it would be even better if I could keep close tabs on her.

"Oh, Mrs. Reed, we couldn't impose," Millie insisted with just the right amount of sweetness.

"You're not imposing. Regardless of those test results, I want to help you because I would hope someone would do the same for my Marianna, and I know it isn't cheap to stay in the city."

"Lochlan, what do you think?" Alex asked, determined to make me the bad guy. I hated to disappoint, but he would understand later.

Millie faced me. Long lashes hid her brown eyes as she glanced at the rug, and she turned the points of her shoes toward one another. The blatant submission had me itching to take a fistful of that silky hair and yank her head back—force her to look me in the eye. Force her to...

"Lochlan?"

Clearing my throat, I banished the image from my mind. "I agree with Alex, Mrs. R. I don't know if I like the idea of strangers staying in your home."

The matriarch of the Reed family rolled her eyes. It was a move befitting of a toddler, not the elegant woman who regularly topped every list for best dressed and wealthiest women in the country.

"That's what security is for."

"Mrs. Reed," Mille said, "I think Mr. Sloan and your son are right. It's too much to ask."

"I didn't finish." I cut her off and bit back a smirk. She didn't like that. A red slash of temper ran along her cheekbones, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she reined in what was likely a smart remark. "I think you should stay at my place."

"What?" Millie shrieked as Marcus said, "Come again?"

"I hardly see how that's any better." A delicate frown tugged on Mrs. R's lips.

"I'm in the most central location between the three of us, and I have the most room since staff occupies your other two bedrooms. Staying in a hotel room while we wait for results is hardly practical, and I very much doubt you'd find anywhere halfway decent to rent on such short notice."

"We could always go home while we wait," Millie muttered.

"Absolutely not," Mrs. R responded, soothing the inexplicable knot that formed in my stomach, although that was exactly what I should want. These criminals far away from my town. She pinched the bridge of her nose and nodded. "I suppose Lochlan is right. He has the most space. Well, aside from Alex. I don't suppose you've gotten furniture for your spare rooms, son?"

"Nope."

"Of course not. I suppose that settles things. Mille and Marcus. You two will stay with Lochlan. It might be good for you to have the company."

I wilted beneath her concern. There had never been any doubt that Anna Reed loved me like her other children, and I would do anything for her—except tell her the truth about what happened the day Marianna disappeared. That's why she needed to give up this fool's errand. Then, I could go back to finding actual answers, and go back to a life without lying coffee shop girls who made me smile too easily.

"I enjoy being alone, Mrs. R, and I have you and Alex for company when I need it."

"I really don't think this is a good idea," Millie said. Marcus looked at the ceiling as if to compose himself. "We can make other arrangements."

"It's all settled, my dear. You just need to get your things."

"I will handle that," Marcus said, jumping at the chance to escape. "I can get us all packed. Millie, just shoot me the address."

"That's silly. I'll go with you," Millie said, but her "best friend" was already moving at an incredible speed for his build down the hallway.

"I'm afraid I need to leave too," Alex said, kissing his mother's cheek. "But keep me posted on this situation. Millie, it was a pleasure meeting you."

"You too," she murmured in response, tensing slightly when he swooped in to give her a hug.

Mrs. R tucked a strand of Millie's honey hair behind her ear, a rare, genuine smile curving her lips. Seeing that directed at Millie—someone who was clearly trying to take advantage of her—was like taking a sucker punch to the gut, but there was another emotion beneath the pain. One I couldn't identify and wasn't willing to probe too deep to figure it out.

The skin between Mrs. R's eyebrows pinched together, and she paled. I lurched forward, resting my hand on her slender shoulder. She swallowed and patted my hand before stepping away.

"I think perhaps I should go lie down for a while."

"Is it another migraine?"

"Yes. I thought it might go away, but it's only getting worse."

"You really should go back to the doctor," I pressed. Mille said nothing, but her brown eyes bounced between us. If I didn't know better, I would think the concern in them was genuine. Then again, maybe it was. She needed Anna Reed alive and in good health if she hoped to swindle her out of the reward money.

"Perhaps," Mrs. R admitted. Her eyes dipped to Millie's ensemble, and she pursed her lips. "Millie, it was a pleasure meeting you. I have your number, and I would like to schedule some time together soon. Perhaps lunch and maybe some shopping."

I scowled, not liking the idea of a single cent being wasted on this farce. Mrs. R could claim all she wanted that she was acting out of the goodness of her heart because she would want someone to do the same for Marianna, but there was no denying her real motivation. The woman was already halfway convinced Millie was her missing daughter, and it was enough for her to give the girl anything she wanted.

"I would enjoy that, though the shopping is unnecessary," Millie insisted.

Mrs. R laughed. "Really, it's not. Please. I don't consider myself a judgmental person, but you will be exposed to certain circles while you're staying with us. They can be rather vicious. You'll be more comfortable if you have the appropriate armor and weapons, my dear."

With those sadly accurate words delivered, she excused herself, leaving me alone with Millie, who looked appropriately nervous.

"Look," she began.

"Let's go." No need to stay here any longer than necessary. From this moment forward, it was going to be my goal to keep Millie and Mrs. R separated as often as possible.

"Mr. Sloan," she tried again as she ran after me.

Ignoring her, I stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor. She backed into a corner, her cheeks pink as she stared at me. I found I rather liked the way it sounded when she called me Mr. Sloan, and if she'd been anyone else, I might imagine a scenario where I took her in the elevator, her hair wrapped around my fist, her breasts pressed against the mirrored walls, and Mr. Sloan falling from her lips like a prayer while I pounded her.

Putting my hands in my pockets, I discreetly adjusted myself while going over all the reasons screwing the con artist was a terrible idea. Unfortunately, my sick mind could provide equally good reasons it was an excellent idea. Those pouty lips being number one, and number two was how good it would feel to spend some of this in a rage fuck we both desperately wanted.

"Mr. Sloan—"

"Lochlan," I croaked out. If she called me Mr. Sloan again, I was going to embarrass us both.

"I'm very sorry about earlier."

"You mean strategically running into me before your meeting with Anna Reed? The meeting where you preyed on her desperate need to believe her daughter is still living in order to make money?"

Her chin jutted in the air, and for a minute I was breathless. How many times had little Marianna done the same thing when she was being stubborn or determined. But—no. I forced it away. It wasn't an unusual female trait.

"Care to go over anything about our meeting in the coffee shop that would have been beneficial to me, or are you really more butt hurt over me not falling into your arms and begging you to have your way with me then and there?"

"You're—"

"Not finished," she snapped. "What are the chances that I could have orchestrated that meeting? In a city this size? Maybe if I was stalking you, but I was there first. You hit on me."

"Millie."

"And furthermore," she jammed her finger into his chest as the elevator doors chimed and opened. "Tell me the angle."

I cleared my throat and grabbed her wrist before she could hit me again. Giving a couple entering the elevator a tight grin, I dragged Millie outside and through the parking garage, ignoring her protests. I stopped next to the black Range Rover I kept on the premises for the rare occasions I needed to drive somewhere and didn't want to hire someone. Shoving her against the vehicle, I slipped my knee between her legs to pin her in place and clapped a hand over her mouth.

The fear that bloomed bright in her eyes almost made me feel guilty. Almost because she was a criminal and any discomfort she experienced was her own fault.

Eyebrows raised, I lifted my hand, but kept it close to her mouth so she wouldn't miss the threat. I ignored the burning in my palm where those pillowy lips had touched my skin.

"Are you done?" I demanded.

"Only because you're scaring me," she whispered. "You're an animal."

"Are you scared? Really?" I asked, sliding my other hand up her throat and massaging the pounding pulse in her neck. The heat and dampness I felt through her thin leggings told a different story than her words. I shifted my leg just enough to create friction, and her pupils grew until only a faint ring of golden brown was visible.

"I think I hate you."

Chuckling darkly, I released her and opened the door. She crawled inside, releasing a shaky breath, before I closed the door. Getting in the driver's side, I started the car, but before I put it in reverse, I looked at her.

"Hate me all you want, but just know that you will get nothing from this family. That's my angle. The Reeds have suffered enough, and I will destroy anyone who tries to hurt them. You included."

Millie swallowed and licked her lips, turning to look out the window as I pulled out into the New York City traffic. She didn't speak the rest of the ride and only once when we entered my apartment to ask where she was sleeping and for the address to pass to Marcus. When her bedroom door shut, I went to my fully stocked bar and filled my glass with bourbon.

The orange glow of sunset pierced the windows of my living room, lighting the amber liquid on fire. I tried to forget how much the color reminded me of Millie's eyes as I drained it and went back for another shot. By the third one, the full boil of my anger had become a simmer and stared at her bedroom, willing her to come out.

What had seemed like an excellent idea back at Mrs. R's was proving to be an epic mistake. Having her so close all the time was going to push me to my limits, and these days, I was already close to that ledge of darkness I'd been doing my damndest to avoid my entire life. If she would come out... I sighed and dropped my head on the back of the couch. I didn't plan on apologizing for my earlier behavior, but it might not be the worst thing to treat her with a little kindness.

She'd called me an animal, and she wasn't wrong. No matter my desire for her or my disgust for what she was trying to do, I had to get a leash on the beast inside of me. Harry's bloodied face flashed through my mind, and I went back to the bar. I'd meant every word in the car. I would destroy her to protect the Reed's the way I'd failed to protect Marianna all those years ago.

But why did I have a sinking feeling that meant destroying myself, too?