The Dirty Affairs (Reverse harems)

Chapter One

Dillon

THE FIST FLEW TOWARD my face, and I didn’t even bother to duck.

Hard knuckles and an even harder solid gold ring connected with my

cheekbone and sent me staggering back. Pain exploded through the side of my head, and my vision went black, stars dancing in the darkness. I managed to keep my balance and didn’t go down on the hard, concrete floor of the industrial warehouse where the meeting point had been arranged.

“You’ll take whatever they’re willing to give you,” the man who’d hit me spat. “Men like you need to know their place.”

I was in trouble with the Capello brothers, two of the most dangerous men in New York, and they both stood by and watched this altercation with barely a change of expression.

Both men were older than my twenty-five years. Francesco—or Frankie, as he was more commonly known—was in his forties, and his younger brother, Manuel, was in his late thirties. They were well known and respected in the city, both with families and kids, though their families didn’t seem to weaken them at all. Both were smartly dressed in similar outfits of dark gray suits, with black shirts underneath. Their similarities didn’t end with their clothes, as their hair and eyes marked them as brothers, though the older of the two, Frankie, was on the heavier side, his dark hair now approaching gray.

In Frankie Capello’s hand was the manila envelope containing the forged passports I’d created for him.

The guy with the swinging fists worked for the brothers. The Capellos stood to one side and gave orders—they didn’t get their hands dirty themselves.

There was no point in fighting back, even though I itched to launch myself back at the goon who’d hit me and repay him for the blow with several of my own. Bare knuckle fighting was something I’d done as

entertainment when I was a teenager growing up in Ireland, and I was more than comfortable with using my fists.

I’d turned up at this meeting expecting a payment of fifty grand after I’d handed over three brand-new passports with brand-new names. I was

supposed to have been paid in full, but it seemed my clients had different ideas.

Perhaps I should be thankful I was being threatened with fists instead of guns. It could go either way in this city. And with the company I was keeping right now, I was sure they were all carrying—the Capello brothers, for sure. I had my own gun, but I hadn’t brought it with me. Seemed to me, you were more likely to get shot in this city if you were armed as well.

Perhaps that was just the difference in our cultures showing. I’d been living in America since my teens, but I couldn’t shake the idea the streets were more dangerous if everyone was armed. Ryan and Kodee would tell me I

was being dumb, and I’d made a mistake by not bringing a gun myself, but I was trusting my instincts. The Capello brothers wanted to let me know

who was boss, but they didn’t want me dead. I was worth too much for them to kill me—for the moment, anyway.

The others would go fucking nuts if they learned I’d come here alone. That wasn’t how we did things, the three of us. We were supposed to have each other’s backs—and we did, for the most part—but I’d screwed up, and I didn’t want them to have to deal with the fallout.

I rubbed my aching cheekbone. I was outnumbered five to one. If I started fighting back, there was a good chance they’d shoot me. I had to behave myself and just take what I had coming. It wasn’t a good idea to

mess with the Capellos. Ryan and Kodee had already reminded me of that. They were going to be seriously pissed when they found out what I’d done. We’d needed the money, and it had seemed worth the risk at the time, but the Capellos had a name for themselves for screwing other people over, and it seemed I was going to be another in their list.

Fuck.

I still had to try.

“If you can’t afford it, I can always take installments.” I couldn’t help my cheeky tone, even though I was bruised and in a dangerous spot.

Frankie Capello smirked. “You get paid based on the quality of your work.”

“So, you’re saying the quality isn’t good enough?” I replied. “You won’t be back for more, then?”

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “If we want more, you make more.”

Ah, bollocks. This was exactly why the others had told me not to get involved. I’d put us on the Capellos’ radar, and now they were going to make us their bitches. I was going to be in a boat load of trouble.

People heard my accent and assumed I was green. My parents had moved here over ten years ago, and even though they were both long dead,

I’d never rid myself of the Irish accent. It was in the differences in how I said my ‘th’s’ or how my ‘i’s’ sounded like ‘o.’ Everyone pretended they liked the Irish, especially if it happened to be around St. Paddy’s day, but

the reality was that it made me stand out. I was different, and they knew it.

I shook my head. “Not gonna happen. Unless I get paid, there won’t be any more work from me.” I had to stand my ground.

“Shall I hit him again, boss?” asked the goon who’d punched me. But Frankie Capello lifted his hand to stop him.

“We’ll bring you your payment.”

The sudden change of heart surprised me, but I straightened my

shoulders. I didn’t know what I’d said or done to make them change their minds, but it was good news. I needed that money.

“Good to hear it.” I could hardly believe I’d gotten them to see sense. The corner of his lips curled in a smirk. “We know where you live.”

There was cold menace in those words, and any relief I’d experienced at the thought that all of this hadn’t gone completely tits-up faded away.

I raked a hand through my hair and pressed my lips together, my nostrils flaring. “How long am I going to have to wait?”

Frankie gave me a smug smile. “Oh, it’ll be soon.” “Fine.”

There was nothing more I could say or do, but I didn’t like the idea of the money being brought to the apartment either. If Ryan or Kodee were

also there, they’d ask questions, and I’d been hoping I could do this without things getting awkward. They’d demand to know what the Capellos were doing turning up on our doorstep, and I’d been hoping to avoid any

conversations like that. At some point, I realized they’d have wanted to know where the money had come from, and I’d been hoping I’d be able to tell them the truth then. By that point, I figured, everything would have gone smoothly, and they’d have nothing to get angry about. Problem was that right now it didn’t feel like everything was going smoothly at all.

Ryan, Kodee, and I were business partners, but we were also more than that. What went on behind closed doors was no one else’s business, and we

were careful to make sure no one else found out about how we liked to

spend our private time. We were under no illusions that people would think differently of us if they knew. We were protecting ourselves and our business.

Frankie Capello narrowed his eyes in my direction. “Was there anything else?”

I looked between him and his brother and the three other men

surrounding me. They all wore matching expressions of cool amusement. I had the feeling this had all been a horrible mistake. The last thing I wanted was them coming to the apartment, especially when Ryan and Kodee were home, but I couldn’t tell Frankie Capello to keep his money either. I needed that money.

“No, that’s it.”

The smirk widened. “We’ll see you later, then.”

I ducked my head and shoved my hands in my pockets and quickly spun away from the Capellos, toward the door of the warehouse. I had to pass one of the Capellos’ men, and he made sure to step into my path to shoulder barge me as I walked past. The others laughed, and I was suddenly thrown back into memories of bullies at high school. My hands itched to swing a punch at the guy who’d shoved me, but deep down I knew I was lucky to be making it out of this with only a bruised cheek. How the fuck was I going to explain that to the guys as well? I’d have to make up a story and hope I’d get away with it. I didn’t like lying to them, but I was doing it for their benefit as much as my own.

I pushed open the door to the warehouse, conscious of the stares of the Capellos’ crew as I left. My motorcycle was sitting at the curb, exactly

where I’d left it, my helmet hanging from the handlebar. I lifted my hand to touch my bruised cheek. I should have kept the helmet on when I’d gone inside—it would have protected my face from the goon’s fist. I smirked to myself at what their reaction would have been if I’d even tried it. I didn’t need to be a fortune teller to know it wouldn’t have gone down well.

Picking up my helmet from where I’d left it, I jammed it down over my head. I winced as the bottom bumped my injury. I swung my leg over the bike, put the gear into neutral, and started the engine. We lived on the other side of the city, and the bike was the best way to get there. New York traffic was a nightmare at any time of the day.

I wove easily between the crawling cars, leaning with the motion of the bike, enjoying the freedom and rush I always experienced when I was riding. The only time it was better was when one of the guys was on the back with me. Even if they didn’t want to be obvious by wrapping their

arms around my waist or pressing their face to my back, they always made sure they sat far enough forward that I felt a hard cock jammed against the point where my lower back met my arse. It was almost more fun that way— a secret that could be displayed in public, with no one being any the wiser. I wasn’t the only one who got a kick out of it, either. The other two might not be as reckless as I was, but they enjoyed a hot thrill just as much as the next man.

It took me less than thirty minutes to make the drive across the city.

Because of our work, we were able to afford the penthouse apartment in our building. It was the sort of place where no one knew their neighbor, and

everyone minded their own business. That worked perfectly for us. We didn’t want people asking too many questions, either about our private or our work lives.

I reached the entrance to the parking garage, which was below our building, and slowed the bike to a crawl. I had a card I was supposed to

swipe for the barrier to lift, but I didn’t bother, and instead maneuvered the vehicle around the side of the barrier. Picking up speed again, I rode across the lot and finally pulled the bike up at the spot closest to the elevator, beside Ryan’s modified Ford. There was the option of stairs as well, but

since we were in the penthouse, the elevator was always going to be my first choice. For once, however, I wasn’t eager to get home. The guys were bound to ask what had happened to my face, and I didn’t want to tell them. They would be seriously pissed if they found out what I’d been doing, and I didn’t want to ignite the wrath of either Ryan or Kodee. Ryan had a cold, hard temper, while Kodee had the ability to make me feel like the most irresponsible person in the world—like he was the adult and I was some

sort of kid, despite being twenty-five years old. I wasn’t even the youngest of the three of us, and I was probably the most irresponsible, but he didn’t always have to go out of his way to make me feel it.

I swung my leg to climb off the bike and then hung my helmet back on the bars. I didn’t expect anyone to try to steal it. There were security

cameras covering much of the underground garage.

Using my key card for the elevator, I stepped inside. We needed another card to get to the penthouse—a little extra security on our part. We also had a twenty-four-hour doorman who would vet anyone coming in from the

street. Security was important to us. While we were careful to protect our work from any outside influence, we couldn’t have strangers wandering into our domain.

The elevator rose. It came to a smooth halt, and the door slid open. Even though there was only our apartment on this floor, there was still a small

corridor which contained both the elevator and the stairwell, in case of emergencies.

I hesitated outside the door to our apartment and sucked in a breath. I

still hadn’t fully decided what I was going to say when the others asked me what had happened to my cheek. Was there any chance I could keep my involvement with the Capello brothers a secret?

Knowing there was no point in lurking in the hallway, I let myself inside. We worked as well as lived here. It was really no surprise that we ended up mixing business with pleasure.

The front door led straight onto our open-plan living space.

Kodee was sitting at his desk, the top button of his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up to expose his smooth brown forearms.

“Where have you been?” he asked, not looking up from his computer. I crossed over to where he was sitting and moved in behind him.

Frustrated that he didn’t even look at me—I had thought he’d have clocked my bruised cheek by now and would have been full of questions—I ducked my head to kiss the side of his neck from behind, and then gave him a little nip. The scent of his aftershave filled my senses. His head was smooth at the moment, shaven of his afro hair.

“Hey,” he growled, but I knew he wasn’t really protesting. “I’m trying to work.”

I nuzzled him again. “Where’s Ryan?” I asked against the scruff of his stubble.

“He just took a shower.”

“Alone?” I said, acting surprised. “That’s not like you.” “He wanted some space. You know how he can get.”

I did. Ryan had some issues, that was for sure. It had only been six months since he’d left the Army after getting caught up in an explosion in Iraq. He’d struggled to settle into civilian life, and was haunted by what had

happened while he’d been away. Nightmares plagued his sleep, and he often seemed on the edge.

Kodee finally turned his head and looked at me. He spotted the bruised cheek and frowned. “What happened?”

I covered the area with my palm. “Nothing. I came off my bike.”

The lie tripped easily from my tongue, and I realized I wasn’t ready to have any difficult conversations with him about the Capello brothers.

He lifted his eyebrows. “And you weren’t wearing your helmet?”

“It was stupid.” I shook my head, not meeting his deep brown gaze. “I hadn’t even got the bike started, so I didn’t have my helmet on yet. I just tipped over, and my face took the fall.”

“Really?”

“What would you rather hear? That I was drinking in a bar and got into a fight?” It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d done something like that. My temper seemed to flare after I had a couple of drinks inside me.

His handsome face didn’t betray any information. “Did you?”

I exhaled a sigh. “No, I didn’t. I already told you what happened.” “You fell off your bike?”

“That’s what I said.”

One of the bedroom doors opened, and Ryan emerged, buttoning up his shirt.

There were certain rules we followed to keep up appearance. First was that we each had our own rooms, avoiding any awkward questions. It

wasn’t a problem. I thought deep down, we each liked to have our own space, anyway. Living and working together didn’t exactly leave much room for alone time. The second was that we always tried to give the

appearance of smartly dressed businessmen. Not all the time, admittedly— there were times like now, when I was more comfortable in a leather jacket and jeans, but most of the time we were seen outside of this apartment in

expensive suits. It was another way of keeping up appearances. When people saw a man in a suit, they assumed he was respectable. They thought businessman, office job, nine-to-five.

They didn’t think criminal.

Of course, there were times when we relaxed, but that was always done behind closed—and locked—doors.

Ryan frowned at me. His blond hair was still dark from the shower. “What did you do to your face?”

“He fell off his bike,” Kodee interceded before I got the chance to do anything.

“Seriously?”

I looked between both men. “Aye, I did. Why would I lie?”

Ryan pursed his lips. They were thin, where Kodee’s were full, but that didn’t make him any less gorgeous. “Because you got yourself into trouble again.”

To try to stop any more questions, I crossed the room to him. “I’m not in any trouble.” I cupped his cheek in my palm and kissed his mouth. He responded with a nip and a groan.

Ryan came from a tough background, but he was most definitely our sub. When he was in the right frame of mind, nothing got him hotter than

being told exactly what to do. That only applied in the bedroom, however. Outside of the bedroom, we were all equals, despite our differences in personality.

Kodee was the eldest at twenty-eight, and was also the cool, calm one. He had the highest level of education among us, with a master’s in graphic design, which was a skill we put to use in our business. He could be

working in a regular office instead of with Ryan and me, but he had his own reasons for living outside of the law.

Ryan was complicated. He carried demons with him, more than any of us, even more than Kodee. Maybe that was why he liked to sub with us. It was the one time he could hand everything over to someone else, and perhaps not need to feel like he was himself, or shouldering his burden.

Fuck. I didn’t know. I wasn’t a psychologist.

I wasn’t going to tell them why I’d taken the job behind their backs. It would look as though I was palming my reasons off on someone else, and I didn’t want to do that.

A banging on the front door caught our attention. We turned as one toward it, frowning. People didn’t just come straight up to our door. We had a doorman in the lobby to prevent exactly this from happening.

“Who the fuck is that?” Ryan snapped.

“How the hell should I know?” But my stomach twisted. I had the feeling I knew exactly who it was going to be. Frankie Capello had said he knew where I lived, but the reality of them following me here dawned.

Somehow, I hadn’t actually expected him to bring my payment to the door. What was wrong with just giving it to me at the disused warehouse, like

we’d planned? How was I going to explain him handing my payment over to me in front of the guys? They were not going to be happy.

I darted for the door, hoping to get there first. But Kodee was closer, and he was taller, his legs longer. Within a couple of strides, he’d made it there before me. He held up his hand to tell me to stop, and then reached

out to the entrance hall console, where he slid open a drawer and pulled out a gun. He only half opened the door, keeping the hand with the gun hidden from sight of whoever was on the other side.

It wasn’t Frankie Capello standing in the hallway, but I did recognize two of the men from the crew who’d surrounded me in the disused

warehouse downtown. The person they held between them, however, was a complete stranger.

“What the hell is this?” Ryan said from beside me, frowning down at the girl they were holding.

Her long, dark hair hung in straggles over her face, and she didn’t lift her gaze to any of ours.

“Capello says she’s your payment,” one of the men grunted. Kodee responded. “Payment? Payment for what?”

The man jerked his chin in my direction, and I did my best not to shrink as Kodee slowly turned to look at me, questions in his deep brown eyes. I grimaced and gave an apologetic shrug. I was going to have a lot of

explaining to do.

“She’s yours,” the goon said, “for the meantime, anyway. Keep her hidden here. She’s bought and paid for, so feel free to do whatever you want to her. And don’t worry, she’s clean. We make sure all our whores are tested, and she’s got a contraceptive implant, too, so you can fuck her as much as you like without having to worry about getting hit up for child

support.”

Ryan stepped forward. He always moved with a subtle limp, something most people wouldn’t have even noticed, but I knew how conscious he was of it.

“We don’t want her here,” he said.

The goon gave the girl a shove, and she stumbled into the apartment.

“Tough. She’s yours now. You can’t just return her for a store card. Frankie Capello doesn’t appreciate it when people don’t like his gifts.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes. “I thought you said she was payment.”

The man shrugged. “Whatever. Just keep her here and make sure she doesn’t leave, and that no one else sees her either.”

Kodee shook his head in confusion. “Why? What?”

But the man had already jerked his chin at his companion, and the two of them turned away from the open door and sauntered back down the

corridor. How had they gotten up here, anyway? They must have bribed the guy on the door. I was going to have to have words with him about that. We paid a lot of money to ensure this place remained secure and private and prevent this exact sort of thing from happening...

Well, maybe not this exact sort of thing. I’d certainly never predicted having some strange girl dumped on our apartment floor as something we needed to guard against.

Kodee slammed our front door shut, and then applied the security chain and several extra locks.

I turned my attention back to the girl.

Her skinny body was hunched over, pressing the swells of her small breasts into some form of discernible cleavage. Her flimsy little dress was cut short and barely covered the curve of her ass. A flicker of arousal

sparked inside me, my cock jerking. It wasn’t that I didn’t like women—I’d just never found one that had held my attention for any length of time. I liked it rough, and most women couldn’t handle it. Kodee had sworn off

women for his own personal reasons, and I didn’t think Ryan had ever had any interest in them.

Ryan turned to me, his blue eyes cold. “What the fuck did you do?”