Page 3 of Broken Innocence
That’s what people call me and my brothers.
We were raised by Conrad Steele to be deadly mercenaries whose goal was the implosion of The Syndicate, the organization that blacklisted Conrad decades ago. Our childhoods were hell, and it shaped each of us into brutal killers, though we don’t advertise those skills.
Most of the world recognizes Mathias and myself as the leaders of Blackchapel Incorporated, the legitimate company we run all of our Blackthorn dealings through.
Blackchapel and Blackthorn.
Two sides of the same coin. One is legal and publicly acknowledged, while the other encompasses the dark underbelly of our criminal organization. The angel and devil working together.
As COO of Blackchapel, that puts me firmly on the angel side, but I’m as far as angelic as a man can get.
Evidenced by the latest skills I’ve added to my dark web resume:stalker.
Because I watch sweet and innocent Eden Marino every night.
With the curtains open, the bright lights of her apartment serve as a beacon guiding me home. Toher. My beautiful Butterfly.
It’s obvious she thinks her place on the third floor of the building protects her from curious eyes, especially when a line of towering trees forms a privacy barrier.
She has no idea a predator stalks her every move, or else she’d be more careful.
Like when she gets out of the shower and traipses around the living room with damp hair and a thin tee fluttering over her curves. Natural. Vulnerable.No panties.Sharing glimpses of her bare pussy to my perch on a thick tree branch outside.
Then there was that one glorious time when shadows flashed over her body as my girl felt daring enough to straddle the couch arm and grind against a unique sex pillow while cupping a heavy breast and tweaking the nipple.
Her other hand had pressed against the window glass for stability, and I imagined covering it with mine as I entered her from behind, riding her hard until she came. The cry of her release that day will forever echo in my mind, etching the perfect moment into eternity.
My girl is exploring her newfound freedom. Without the constant hovering of her parents, she’s testing her limits, acting brazenly in the safety of her home.
Because she doesn’t think anyone can see her.
Doesn’t think anyone will know her dirty secrets.
But I do, and I crave more.
***
A notification appears at the top of my screen—an email with a request from Eden to the maintenance team at her apartment complex. Brow wrinkling in disapproval, I open the message to see what the problem is while debating how unhinged it'd be to show up on her doorstep and fix her dishwasher myself.
After all, that's why I installed the spyware on her laptop when she left it unattended at the library months ago. To keep a watchful eye on her.For her safety.Not because I’m an obsessed stalker… or notonlybecause of that.
And how safe is it to have strange men entering her apartment while she's alone?
“Do you have something to add, Luca?” Mathias asks from the end of the conference table at Blackchapel Incorporated headquarters. I must have made a sound of annoyance for Mathias to call me out.
We’re in a meeting with shareholders going over third quarter profits after acquiring Petit Enterprises earlier this year. It's boring as hell, but as CEO and COO, we’re both expected to be in attendance.
Too bad my woman takes precedence over everything else.
“I forgot I have an important appointment to attend. Excuse me.” I gesture for the marketing exec presenting the financials with one of our accountants to continue before exiting, returning my attention to the issue at hand: another man invading my girl's home.
My assistant scurries down the hall after me. “You don’t have an appointment on the schedule, Mr. D’Amora. Did I miss something?” Wallace swipes across his tablet in search of my elusive meeting.
“No, this is a private matter. Cancel the rest of my day,” I order before closing the door to my office. The surrounding skyscrapers shoot blinding rays of sunlight through the floor to ceiling windows as I settle behind my desk, rattling the mouse to clear the screensaver of Beanie staring up at the butterfly suncatcher I gifted Eden.
Anyone else who saw the image might wonder at my choice—orange cats don’t mesh well with someone known for being part of a group called the Blackchapel Bastards—but I don’t give afuck. It’s the closest I can keep Eden without uploading an actual picture of her, and that’s a definitenountil I can ensure her safety in my world.
The seven of us known as the Blackchapel Bastards were raised to exact revenge on our fathers by Conrad Steele. He harbored a deep bitterness after being blackballed. It’s what motivated him to take in the illegitimate sons of The Syndicate’s most powerful men—some aware of Conrad’s actions, like my father when he abandoned me at Blackchapel Manor, and some completely clueless that an enemy trained their bastard child for vengeance.
