Chapter 1: Isa

CHAPTER 1

AT FIRST SIGHT

ISA

“ Y ou fucking do as I say, Isabelle. Do not make me repeat myself,” my father growls in my face.

“Dad, are you insane? I barely know these guys. I’ve only met them a couple of times,” I volley back.

My father, Stephane Saint Clair, the gangster overlord, wraps one meaty hand around my throat and violently slams my back to the wall behind me.

The familiar pain invades my body. My back aches from the brutal impact. And the way he’s squeezing, I can tell even with my dark complexion, he’ll leave bruises on the delicate skin of my neck.

But this is nothing new. Just more of the same way he treats my sister and I. The same way we saw him behave with our mother countless times before he dragged her kicking and screaming out of our home. Never to be seen again…

We’re in his office, at our family’s mansion, on the hills of the most exclusive residential area of the small town of Delmonte, on the central coast of California.

The man is rich, arrogant, violent, and not to be crossed. Ever. And his most recent ploy is to use his daughters, my twin sister Gabrielle and me, to forge alliances in his criminal world. Gabrielle will be given as payment for our father’s debt to a mighty mafia family. But my fate is still up in the air. There are four candidates, each from four powerful criminal families, who are interested in me. I know it would make my father ecstatic if any of them makes a deal with him for my hand.

Mikhail Antonov’s family runs the Bratva on this side of the Atlantic. He’s all dark eyes and powerful body. A fascinating beast with a low, raspy voice.

Danni O’Malley is Irish Mob. People say he’s a madman, a cold-blooded killer, but all I see are his gorgeous blue eyes.

Sal Calderón is the head of the largest cartel on our side of the border. He’s also the very definition of tall, dark, and lethally handsome.

Then there’s Vito Romano. The mafioso is as beautiful and cold as a marble statue. And I can’t help but wonder what it would take to heat his icy gaze.

My father is crazy if he thinks I’ll throw myself at any of these savage beasts!

MISHA

I cross my legs, tug on the sleeves of my Tom Ford suit jacket, and let my eyes lazily roam around the room. We’re in a luxurious library. Overly ostentatious. Thick leather-bound volumes line up polished cherry-wood shelves. Authentic Persian rugs under our feet. And heavy leather and wood furniture spread about the vast room.

I’m sitting on a Chesterfield club chair by the heavy-curtained window. The soft mid-morning light at my back.

Romano stands with his back to a wall by the door. Hands stuffed in the pockets of his tailored slacks, one leg bent at the knee, the sole of his shiny leather loafers resting flat against the silk-covered wall. No fucking respect . My lips twitch in amusement, and I shake my head when we exchange a knowing gaze.

Danni is stretched out on the sofa. Fucking laying on his back like he owns the fucking place. Feet up, crossed at the ankles, hands at the back of his head, eyes closed like he’s taking a fucking nap.

Now, Sal. Motherfucking Salazar Calderón stands guard at the door, like he’s ready to pounce on Isabelle as soon as she walks in.

Fuck, this is gonna be fun.

The four of us have known each other our entire lives. We started our training, working for our families around the same young age. We’re best friends, brothers, partners in crime and business.

Our families run the West Coast of the United States and our alliances rule the world. Stephane Saint Clair is a very audacious man for approaching us and offering his daughter’s hand to forge a pact with one of our families. But this fool doesn’t know. He doesn’t know they call us The Tetrad. The Tsar, the Irish, El Capo, and Don Vito. This motherfucker has no clue who he’s trying to play with.

ISA

I take a deep inhale and follow my father into our mansion’s library. It’s a statement room. Another place for him to show off his wealth and impress his guests. But not today, papa . The men gathered in this room couldn’t give a fuck about your measly million dollar Persian rugs. These motherfuckers are a thousand times richer and more powerful than you. I see the disdain in their eyes when they’re in my father’s presence, hear the clearly unveiled insults.

I’m not sure my father knows what he’s doing. I’m not sure he thought this whole thing through. What interest would such influential families have binding themselves to a mid-range player like Stephane Saint Clair?

The moment we step into the room, I want to turn on my heels and split. The amount of raw masculine beauty and overpowering levels of testosterone saturating the air is almost suffocating. My eyes bounce from one corner of the room, and one outrageously beautiful mobster, to the other, and it feels like my heart has lodged itself in my throat.

Four pairs of intense, burning eyes fall on me and capture my attention. I can vaguely hear my dad talk, but his words barely register.

“Welcome… thrilled… get to know each other… alone, maybe?”

And before I realize what he said, what he’s offered, Danni O’Malley straightens from the sofa where he was stretched out, grabs my hand and walks me through the library French doors, to the balcony. Oh boy .

His hand is large, warm, and calloused. It’s just his palm against mine, his long, thick fingers engulfing mine, but I feel owned, possessed, dominated, already taken and done for.

I trot behind him in quick steps, trying to make up for his large strides with my high-heels clad feet.

“Hey, not so fast.”

O’Malley stops and looks down at me. Fuck, this man’s eyes. Deep indigo blue. The exact shade of the ocean offshore. I always knew I’d drown in them.

“My apologies, sweetheart. I seem to forget my manners around you.”

Oh. My. God. I never, ever heard the man talk. I didn’t know. Holy shit. The faint trace of a Boston accent in his deep voice, the way he rolls his ‘Rs’, I’m fucking screwed.

“Uh… no… that’s okay. It’s just… you… have longer legs. And… uh… I’m wearing… heels.”

The hint of a cocky smile curls the side of his delicious looking mouth and both my heart and pussy flutter in unison. Fuck me. He’s absolutely gorgeous.

Yes, I could tell he’s handsome. My sister and I have been drooling over The Tetrad since we were teenagers and started following the group of hot young men in society papers and every chance we got to see them. But I never saw Danni O’Malley smile. Didn’t even know he was capable of a different expression than his stoic resting bitch face. But this? This twinkle in his sapphire eyes, the slight hook of his full lips? This fucking changes everything.

DANNI

Deep breaths, man. You don’t wanna fucking scare her .

I’m undressing Isabelle Saint Clair with my eyes, removing every single layer of clothing from her curvy body by the sheer force of my brain. That fucking sexy, elegant white dress that hits her just above the knee. Hugging her full figure just tight enough to make my mouth water. Showing just enough skin to let you know she has fantastic legs, thick thighs, round hips, and a superb pair of knockers. The small scarf she tied around her neck like some fucking sexy flight attendant from the sixties. Fuck. This woman.

What Isabelle’s dad wants to do is sick. Sell her to the highest bidder between my friends and me. That asshole has no fucking clue who we are, or how we operate. Idiot thinks he’s bidding us against each other. Little does he know we’re here to fucking take what we want, and he’s not fucking getting one damn thing in return.

“Here fine?” I ask her. “Are you cold?”

She shakes her head, a heart-stopping smile on her fucking kissable mouth.

“No, I’m good, but thank you for checking.”

I nod, my eyes never leaving hers. Her soft hand, still engulfed in my big paw.

Isabelle takes a deep breath, making her chest rise, expand, fill the discreet v-neck of her dress even more, and make the situation in my pants grow by another inch. Fuck me .

When she finally talks, her throaty voice feels like a nice, caressing squeeze of my balls, a languid rub along the underside of my shaft. Oh shit, this woman .

“Thank you for coming today, Mr. O’Malley. I’m not exactly sure how all of this is supposed to go, though.”

She lets out a short laugh. Not a nervous giggle, but the actual amused laughter of someone who sees the irony in our insane circumstances. Well, insane for ordinary people. In our world, these kinds of arrangements happen all the time.

I want to see how daring exactly this woman is. If she’s the queen, we see in her. The badass who will be the perfect addition to our tribe.

I take a step closer, crowding her space.

“I know exactly how it’s supposed to go, sweets,” I croon, bringing my face close to hers, then softly pressing my mouth to the corner of her fucking tempting lips.

Fuck, she smells good! All woman, not a hint of girl. A deep, rich, sophisticated fragrance, perfectly blending with her natural scent. The combination is lethal. And at this point, my cock is well and ready to rip through my pants. I circle her incurved waist with my large hands and pull her flush against my body. Her soft curves melt into my hard muscles, fitting into me as if we were two pieces of a puzzle coming together in perfect harmony.

I hiss out, “fuck.” At the same time, Isabelle gasps.

Yeah, Stephane Saint Clair is losing one of his daughters today.

ISA

What in the actual fuck is happening?!

Danni O’Malley’s bulking form looms over me. His huge hands circle my waist. The intense heat emanating from his body envelopes me. The scent of his cologne blended with a hint of tobacco and a whole lot of alpha male pheromones makes me feel dizzy and weak in the knees. Fuck! My pussy spasms, my clit tingles. Shit, the man hasn’t even made skin contact yet.

His full lips graze the shell of my ear, his warm, peppermint scented breath fanning over me when he rasps out, “I wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

I let out a moan in a voice I don’t recognize. It’s filled with need, want. And there’s that delicious sensation of feeling his big, strong body plastered to mine. Of feeling myself melt into him. Of reveling in the smell of him, the furnace that’s his body. How tall and overpowering he is. Fuck, he’s hot.

I’m not this girl. I’m the woman who runs the show, tells a guy when, where, and how. I’ve never been attracted to alpha males. Maybe because of my father, I don’t trust men who are outwardly dominating. I always suspect they’re just like him, cowards abusing those under their power. But this man… This man has never done anything to deserve my suspicion.

All I know of Danni O’Malley is his reputation as a cold-blooded, insanely talented death machine. We only met a couple of times before today. And each occasion was some public gathering our families had to attend. I remember Gabrielle and me watching the Tetrad from afar and exchange knowing looks, because goddamn these men are hot! And I know she didn’t care for any single one of them. For her, it was just a little fun between sisters. But for me? For me it was nights of fantasies, hours daydreaming about the four sexy mobsters. Each furtive encounter, every brief meet was stored, dissected, and mooned over. I’ve had it bad. And the worst part is, I want all four of them…

And it looks like my fantasies are about to become true. Danni leans in closer, bringing his face mere inches from mine.

“Let me taste you, sweetheart.”

The words are whispered directly against my lips; the endearment making my toes curl in my heels. But before our lips can fully connect, another deep voice resonates behind Danni, and he’s abruptly removed from my vicinity.

“The fuck you are! Your fucking time’s up, mano .”

Motherfucking Salazar Calderón stands tall and mighty at Danni’s back, his own large hand still fisted at the back of his friend’s suit jacket. O’Malley’s superbly full, pink lips crook up on one side before he shrugs himself out of his buddy’s grip and once more closes the distance between us. But this time he doesn’t ask permission, or wait for my response. Danni O’Malley presses his mouth to mine and plunges his tongue into my mouth. He kisses me deep and fast. Just long enough that the taste of him spreads through my mouth and invades my entire body. I whimper into his mouth, and my hands, of their own accord, come up to grab on to his shoulders. Fuck, he feels fucking amazing. So good…

“Fucking greedy motherfucker,” Sal growls and Danni is again abruptly pulled away.

He chuckles low and dark, wiping his lips with the pad of his thumb, as if imprinting our kiss into his skin. Then he winks at me and rumbles in his deep voice, “I’ll see you soon, princess.”

His Boston twang sounding more pronounced. Oh Lord …

SAL

Dios mio , she’s beautiful. Fucking takes my breath away every goddamn time I see her.

It’s funny how I always thought people were full of shit when they fell for one identical twin, claiming that person was different from their sibling, and that they were not attracted to the other twin. I called BS every single time, thinking they were full of crap. Similar faces and body, plus gash is gash, right? Turns out I was pretty damn wrong.

I still remember the first time we met the Saint Clair sisters. Their dad kept them out of the public eye for the longest time. Tucked away in European boarding schools and universities. It’s only when they turned twenty-one that Stephane introduced them to our world. That was four years ago and I still can see Isabelle Saint Clair walk into that five-star hotel’s ballroom, draped in a gorgeous gown, her long, dark hair falling down her back. Her beautiful face. Those brown eyes, that sensual mouth. The delicate curve of her neck. Her fucking sexy curves making my mouth water… I wanted to march there, throw her over my shoulder, and lock her away where I could take my fill, quench my thirst. Fucking ravage her, and never let go. But then I realized all four of us were standing frozen in place. And the expressions I caught on my best friends faces mirrored my own insane emotions. Want her. Now! And I could clearly see they were not looking at Gabrielle. Nope, all four of us fell fast and hard for the same woman on the same night, at the same exact moment.

That crazy instinct we’ve been sharing since childhood kicked up and we exchanged understanding gazes. We were on the same page. Whatever it took, this shit needed to fucking happen. So when we heard Stephane Saint Clair was offering his daughters in some fucking auction marriage, not only did all four of us contact him to voice our interest. But we made sure every single motherfucker in our world knew not to fucking dare make an offer to this piece of shit for our girl.

And now we’re here. With her.

ISA

Please tell me I’m dreaming. And please never fucking wake me from this wonderful fantasy!

Sal Calderón fucking removed Danni O’Malley from my vicinity. He pulled that fucking titan off me. I can tell it was good-naturally because Danni walks away chuckling, throwing me one last wink, and a smirk of his full lips I can now testify are fucking delicious.

Now I’m alone on the balcony with the head of the Oscuro Cartel. And the man is as dark and fascinating as the organization he leads. His face is all sharp angles, from the cut cheekbones inherited from his Aztec ancestors, to the strong line of his jaw. His skin tone’s a gorgeous shade of golden brown. The overlong locks of his jet black hair fall over the collar of his starch white button-down. He’s tall and broad. Not as big as Danni, but by the way he scrumptiously fills his tailored suit, I can tell his towering frame is nothing but hard, manly muscle. Shit, is it getting hot in here? Then there’s the matter of his tattoos. Intricate inky designs peeking from his shirt sleeves and collar, adorning the backs of his hands and fingers. Fucking beautiful, hot . I want to peel off his layers, caress him all over, trace the lines embedded into his skin with my nails and tongue. I want to see him, touch him, taste him… Oh My God, what am I thinking?!

“Mami, if you keep looking at me like that…”

Sal leaves his sentence unfinished and takes a step forward to close the distance between us. His dark eyes boring into mine. He wraps a strong hand at the side of my waist and pulls me into him. Once our bodies connect, he takes another step, and I have no choice but to walk backwards till my back hits the wall behind me. Then Salazar Calderón drags his long fingers at the side of my body, over my thigh, till he reaches the hem of my dress. His gaze keeps me glued in place like a snake charmer, while he slides under the cream fabric, dragging it up my leg and nudging himself more thoroughly between my thighs. When his long, thick erection is nestled against my wet, throbbing core, his bulge pressing and rubbing against the scrap of lace covering my pussy, I let out an involuntary whimper. Sal’s beautiful mouth crooks up on one side into an almost cruel smirk.

“Your turn, mamita . You’ve been driving me fucking insane for years.”

His eyes never leave mine as he leans into me, till I can’t see his cocky grin anymore. I see nothing. The entire world fades away. All there is, is Sal Calderón’s incredible mouth taking mine. His full lips kissing and sucking, his expert tongue licking, swiping, and swirling. Sharp teeth teasing and grazing. Big hand grasping and pulling. Till my legs are lifted and wrapped around his waist. My hands grabbing on to his powerful shoulders. Our pelvis meeting in a sensual dance. Fuck, he feels so fucking good. And the taste of him…

“Are you fucking shitting me?”

I hear a deep voice call from behind Sal, and the motherfucker takes all his time sucking on my tongue and letting my bottom lip drag out of between his teeth one last time, before turning in the direction of the person who interrupted us. Without letting me go. Still holding me pinned to the wall. His big dick throbbing against my melting pussy.

VITO

I’m fucking pissed… and turned on. The way Isabelle’s long legs are hooked around Sal’s waist, her thick thighs exposed. Sexy high heels and all that exposed, tempting rich mahogany skin. Fuck, we need to get her out of here. We need to fucking snatch her away and take all our goddamn fucking time to play with her. Tease her. Worship her. Make her come. Over and over. Till she’s claimed, ours, owned entirely. Undoubtedly.

“Your time’s up, frà ,” I growl, staring into Sal’s mocking gaze.

Motherfucker takes all his fucking time lowering Isabelle’s legs and pulling her dress back in place.

She looks fucking magnificent, goddammit. Her long hair went from perfectly styled loose curls to a freshly fucked look that makes my dick rock hard at the thought of sliding my fingers through her curls, fisting and pulling, while I’d be pounding into her tight channel from behind. The image is crystal clear in my mind. I’d take her right here and now. Bent over the balcony. Lift that fucking sexy dress, move her panties to the side and slide home. One hand curled at her full hip, the other fisted in her hair, my hips slamming into her wet, hot, snug cunt… Fuuuuuck.

“Sorry, mano . One forgets themselves in the presence of such perfection.”

Sal leans into Isabelle and presses a soft kiss on her cheek.

“I’ll see you later, mamacita .”

On that, he exits the balcony, sending me one last look I clearly read as a combination of ‘you’re in for a treat’ and ‘you’re fucking screwed, too’.

I advance toward Isabelle and she meets me halfway. Out of the four of us I’m probably the one she’s the most familiar with. Her family is a mid-range ally to another Italian mafia family, the DeLuca’s, so we’ve met on more occasions than Misha, Danni, and Sal have. And like every fucking time, she fucking takes my breath away with her beauty, her presence, and fucking mind-clouding sexy body of hers.

Isabelle wraps a soft hand around my wrist, looking up at me with intense eyes.

“What in the fuck is happening here, Vito?”

“We claim to claim you, cara,” I rasp out, looking her straight in the eye.

“What?” she exclaims.

“You’re ours. We’re here to take you.”

“But… I…”

“You wanna make me believe you don’t know there’s something between us? Always been, sweetheart.”

As I speak, I press my body into hers, bring my face close to hers, rub my cheek along the soft skin on the side of Isabelle’s face. Gently pecking and nuzzling her. I graze her delicate skin with the tips of my fingers, eliciting a wide range of reactions from her pliant body. Isabelle sighs languorously, her delicate hands gripping my broad shoulders. A low hum vibrating at the back of her throat. Eyelids closed, breathing ragged. Her full, tempting lips parted. Her fucking round tits rising and falling in a maddening rhythm. She’s fucking magnificent. All soft, curvy, and fucking turned on. I keep pressing devouring mouth-opened kisses along her velvety skin, and she moans even louder. I slide down the smooth curve of her jaw, and my nibble fingers swiftly undo the scarf tied around her neck. Fuck, she feels good. All warm and soft, and the way her perfume blends with her feminine scent? shit, I’m done for. I’ve been done for this girl since day one, and knowing she can finally be ours, I can barely contain myself.

I take a step back to soak in all that’s Isabelle Sinclair. The long, softly waved hair, the big doe eyes that will sure be my undoing, that fucking temptress’ mouth, and-

What the fuck?! There are bruises on my girl’s neck. Fucking shaped like the hand that most likely squeezed her delicate throat. Tarnishing Isabelle’s otherwise smooth brown skin. Someone is fucking dying today.