Follow
Chapters
Share
Bound to the calloway's heir Novel Cover

Bound to the calloway's heir

In LA's Business world, Zane Calloway, thirty, turns cartel king after his father's gruesome murder, ruling The Atlas Group with a bloody fist. He learned how betrayal could ruin even the biggest empire and was hell bent on keeping Atlas Group. However when Sienna Carter, his new assistant got in the picture, he threw caution to the wind. To become the only one controlling the cartel, he would use Sienna who was a supposedly ghost from a dead cartel as bait for his enemies. Sienna Carter made his mission become even more complicated as she ignites a dangerous sparks in him. Twenty-five year old Sienna Carter just wanted to stay alive, running away from danger had been the only thing she was capable of since her family were murdered. All she had as a semblance of her old life was the locket her dying father had given her and when a new job pops up in Los Angeles, she gambled for it, hoping for her sake that it wouldn't lead her straight to the same hell she was running from. However, she would soon realize that the Atlas Groups was going to be more than just a survival decision but the key to everything.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 50

NOAH.

Dressed in black cargo pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a coat, and boots, I tucked my Glock behind my back as I left my suite. As I took the stairs down to the first floor, my phone started to buzz like crazy. I dug the device out of my pocket, and a dark frown formed on my forehead as I answered, "What?"

"The club is on fire!" Damian shouted, sirens blaring in the background.

Anger exploded in my chest, my fingers tightening around the phone. "Fuck," I muttered. "I'm on my way."

When I step out onto the veranda, I glance at the house and see Harvey standing on her balcony. She was only wearing a bathrobe, and it was freezing outside. Especially now that there was a fire, clearly arson from whoever had marked us. I yanked my phone out, and I sent a text to one of our men.

Keep your eyes on her. Don't leave her, not for a second.

I climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, ready to go to Club Eden. The roads were fucking busy, and as I got closer to the area where the club was, and I saw the plumes of dark smoke, rage shuddered through me.

Damian is going to kill whoever's responsible for the fire.

The road was closed, and I had to park two blocks away. I climbed out of the SUV, and pushing my hand beneath my coat, my fingers curled around the handle of my Glock as I began to walk in the direction of the club. Rounding the corner, I was met by fire trucks and police cars.

"It's a fucking shit show," I growled as I looked up at the flames licking from the windows. "Christ."

"Noah!" I heard Damian shout as he came running toward us. When I got closer, I asked, "How did it start?"

"Don't know yet," Damian answered.

My eyes lift to the burning club, and I watch as months of work and a fuck ton of money go up in smoke.

"We have to go into the club, they will stay and clean up the mess," Damian said. "It's too dangerous for us all to be out in the open like this."

He was right.

Then he turned to one of our men and ordered, "Pay off whoever you have to. I want complete control of the situation."

"I'll handle everything," the guy assured him.

I turned around, and we walked back to the SUV, Another of our men came with us to offer extra protection. Once we were back in the safety of the armored SUV, I asked, "Do you think it's arson?"

"We won't know until the inspection's been done," Damian replied, his tone harsh with anger. If it's arson, then someone's attacking us.

"Probably Miguel because I sent men to wipe out his family after the fuckers tried to rob Eden. Fuck." Damian banged the seat with his fist.

I pulled my phone out and stared at the device for a moment before I brought it up to the number I had saved from Harvey's profile. I pressed the dial, and was not surprised when it said the number was not in service. She must have blocked me.

When we reached the club, we walked inside and headed straight for his private lounge, which was not touched by the fire. Damian gestured for me to pour him a tumbler of whiskey, and I obliged, filling my cup too.

He had barely taken a sip of his whiskey when he dialed someone on his phone and when it was answered, he muttered, "I want all available men in the streets. Kill every fucking motherfucker you can find."

"Everyone?" I said to double-checks. "Not just the men who did this?"

Damian ignored me and repeated his command, "Every-fucking-one," he said, grinding the word out. Then he tossed the phone on the tabletop.

"Why would you want to do that?" I shrugged,

"Even if I don't know who is not behind the club burning down, I'm done waiting for Zane to find the fucker." He picked up the tumbler and poured the whiskey down his throat.

The past hour had been fucking tiring. It was going from one fucking problem after another, making the anger in my chest reach boiling point. We had lost six good soldiers, the alcohol delivery to the club was hijacked, and the bloody fight that Damian had started had gotten out of control.

When his phone rang from one of our men who was supposed to update him about the fire, Damian was in a piss-poor mood and barked his response placing the call on speaker, "What?"

"They said the fire was started on the fourth floor. It was arson."

Uncontrollable rage poured like hot lava through my body as He muttered,

"We're definitely under attack. Put everyone on high alert." "Okay. "Zane is on his way to the club," he informs us.

He ended the call and immediately phoned Rico. "Tell me you have the bitch's location pinned?"

"Venessa was last seen in South America," he answered.

"I want the fucker found, Rico," He ordered, his tone low and deadly. "Stop fucking around and make it happen."

"Hold up," he said. "The whereabouts of Nessa's uncle just came in."

"Send it to me."

"Okay."

"Be extra careful out there," Rico muttered as he ended the call, and when the uncle's details came through, he forwarded them to our men.

I just sent you a message," he said. "Have men bring her to me."

"On it," He replied.

Then he started a group video call with the other brothers, and when they all answered, he said, "Vanessa Kane is attacking. She burned down the new club and took out six of our men. Be extra vigilant while we deal with the problem."

"Christ," Liam was the first to mutter his words. "Anything I can help with?"

"Are you hurt?" Ethan said, gasping.

"They have managed to contain the fire, and we are handling this," Zane cut in before Damian could respond. I noticed a bit of indifference in Zane's demeanor, which was a bit unusual, but I decided to just silently listen.

"The second Rico finds out where the fucker is hiding, we're attacking."

"Okay." Ethan and Liam said. Zane merely nodded, then he ended the call. I have to suppress the urge to ask Damian what was up with Zane just as he threw the fucking phone against the wall.

"We'll find Vanessa," Damian said. "She can't hide forever."

"We'd better," I snapped.

I poured him another drink, and while I took a sip of the whiskey, my thoughts turned to Harvey. I haven't been able to make direct contact with her since our last argument, and I'd give anything to ease some of the tension by sinking deep into her sweet pussy.

Suddenly, one of Damian's staff rushed into the lounge, and it drew my attention back to the lounge.

"You'd better have good news for me," Damian yelled to Rico.

"My men killed the fucking uncle. And Vanessa's in Woodley."

"Then wheels up in thirty minutes," Damian ordered. "Let the others know we're meeting at the airfield."

"On it." Rico said, leaving at once. Climbing to his feet, Damian said to me, "Let's go."

As we walked out of the lounge, he signaled for some of our men to join us.

When they caught up to us, he muttered, "Get a group of men to meet us at the airfield. I want them heavily armed. We're attacking Vanessa."

"Got it, boss," one of the men said, immediately pulling out his phone to make the call.

We hurried out of the club, and once we were all in the SUV, Damian started the engine. "Fucking finally."

"You can say that again," I muttered, more than ready to put an end to this Vanessa mess.

I haven't been home in three days since they attacked Harvey, and was exhausted. Fuck, it feels longer than three days.

The drive to the airfield took forty minutes, and by the time Damian stopped the SUV, he had zero patience for the one-hour flight to Woodley.

Hopefully, the fucker doesn't disappear before we get to her. He would lose his fucking shit if that happened.

We climbed out of the SUV and walked to where Rico and four of our men were waiting.

"It is going to end as a good evening," Rico said. "We know where Vanessa is. Why aren't you happy?"

"I am," he growled.

"Sure as fuck doesn't look like it."

"Rico, we are not in the mood for your shit today. Let's get this over with so we can all take some time off to deal with..." I caught myself before mentioning Harvey and our little entanglement.

I could feel everyone's eyes on me, and to cover up my near-slip-up, I shouted, "Get on the fucking plane."

When I entered the cabin, I took my seat and Damian sat beside me giving me a questioning look. I shook my head so he wouldn't start asking questions.

Once all the men had boarded, the private jet took off. Once in the air, Rico and his men inspected the weapons we always kept onboard.

My thoughts turned to the past week. Lila showed up, discovering who she was, the threats on her, and now Club Eden was up in flames, resulting in the attack on our men.

The attack on our men had been bothering us more. Even though Rico had said it wasn't some intoxicated drug dealers, I still believed they were all connected in a way. If it wasn't Vanessa, then who would have the guts to gun down the Atlas men?

Rico's phone chimed a notification and when he picked it up, he let out a sigh,

Damian turned to face him and asked, "What?"

"Vanessa hasn't been spotted again." Fuck. With my eyes locked on the oval window beside my seat, I asked, "Where was she last seen?"

"A set of traffic lights near one of her clubs."

"She will probably be there until late," Damian said. "Which means we'll have to wait her out."

"Or we go in." I muttered, "We want this done as quickly as possible. We've wasted enough time on this fucker."

"How do you want to do this, Noah?" Damian asked. I didn't miss the hint of amusement in his voice.

I played out a couple of scenarios in my head before answering, "We'll all go into the club. Our men as well. We'll walk up to the fucker as a family, and kill him in front of everyone. It will send a message not to fuck with us."

Just in case someone else is behind the fire and stalking Harvey.

"And the witnesses?" Damian asked.

I wave a careless hand in the air. "Let them talk."

"Hmm, I love this side of you, Noah." Damian said, his eyes glinting with approval.

When we finally touched down in Woodley, we headed straight to the SUVs Rico had arranged for us and piled into the vehicles.

During the drive, I tapped my fingers impatiently on my thigh until we pulled up to Vanessa's club. It was quiet, and I figured it was because it was still early in the evening anyway.

We climb out of the SUVs, and I lift my arm signaling for my men to move closer. I looked at Rico, who was carrying a grenade launcher, and ordered, "Blow the door." Damian ordered.

"But..."

"Do what's asked now" I yelled impatiently. All their questions were starting to get me angrier.

I can feel Damian, Rico, and the others staring at me, but I ignore them.

Rico launched the grenade, and we watched with satisfaction as it blew a hole in the front of the club. When we walked toward the hole, our men followed. I pulled my Glock from behind my back and took off the safety.

Damian shoved an extra magazine into my hand before he took the lead while ordering, "Stay behind me."

The air was filled with smoke, and I glanced over my shoulder, finding Rico right behind me.

Damian had barely set foot in a dance area when gunfire erupted around us.

"Move!" Damian shouted as he ducked to the left. I followed him, lifting my arm to return fire to the second floor, which was the VIP area.

"Vanessa is definitely here." Rico screamed.

We ducked into a hallway that led to a restroom, and with the meager cover, Damian and I tried to pick off the enemy one by one.

When Rico tried to move forward to help out, I muttered, "We've got this."

Noting there was a lone fucker with a submachine gun hiding behind the pillar. And not knowing the whereabouts of the rest of my team, I shouted, "Where the fuck are you?"

"DJ's booth," one of them yelled at us.

Suddenly, Damian darted out from behind our hiding place, and my heart fucking stopped as I watched him slide across the floor before he ended the fucker with a kill shot to the head. When he climbed to his feet, I nodded at him with pride filling my chest, then I shouted at the others, "Get your asses out here."

Damian caught up to me as I headed for the stairs, and when we were heading up them, I muttered, "Good job."

"Thanks," he breathed as he reloaded his gun.

Halfway up, I glanced behind me where some of our men were, then I saw Rico running toward us while another kept an eye out for any stragglers.

This is too fucking easy.

As soon as the VIP area came into view, my eyes locked on Vanessa. She was seated at a table, with her men forming a half circle around her.

What the fuck is she playing at?

"Did you really have to go to all this trouble?" Vanessa asks, her eyes locked on Damian.

"Yes," he muttered as I pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table. Looking at Rico, I nodded toward the bar.

I turned my gaze back to Vanessa, and staring at the fucker, I let out a sigh. "All you had to do was ask for a cut but no, you had to be stubborn and come into our territory, stealing our shipment and burning up my club." Damian started.

"There's a lot of money to be made in LA," she says. "There was no rule on who could take it."

I noticed the sweat beading on her forehead.

Damian picked up a tumbler of whiskey on the table, and he took a sip.

When he set the tumbler down again, he murmured, "You really should have asked, Nessa."

His eyes narrowed on the fucker, and unable to hold back a second longer, his arm flies up, and he pulled the trigger. I watched as the bullet hit Vanessa right between the eyes. Her head snapped back, and her mouth dropped open.

Intense relief poured into my chest as I watched her drop dead to the floor.

As more bullets started to fly, one of her men plowed into Damian and tackled him off the chair. Hitting the floor, his knee slams into Damian's thigh.

The gunfight lasted for just five minutes, and when the last of Vanessa's men dropped dead, Damian lifted his hand and held his thumb and pointer finger an inch apart. "That fucker came this close to kneeling me in the balls."

I let out a burst of laughter, then said, "I'm pretty sure he took a bullet for you."

"What?" He snapped, and, darting up, he checked him for gunshot wounds.

Just as he saw the blood on his side, he said, "Flesh wound on my back."

He shoved off the body before climbing to his feet.

"That's not taking a fucking bullet." I glanced around the area, then asked, "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah, just need to visit the clinic," one of our men muttered. "I took a bullet in the leg."

Another moved closer to help him down the stairs. I glanced at Vanessa's body.

She won't be the last enemy we will have to face, but we will take that as a win.

"Let's go," I muttered.

"Someone going to give me a hand?" Rico asked where he was still lying by my feet.

I glanced down at him, and shaking my head, I grabbed hold of his hand and hauled him to his feet.

As we headed down the stairs, I reached for the tumbler of whiskey Damian had poured before he killed Vanessa and downed the amber liquid.

"One down. God only knows how many to go," Damian muttered. I patted his shoulder. "Let's go home."

"Never seen or heard you this excited about going home before. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing that's your business, Damian." I shrugged, increasing my walking pace to the SUV.

You may also like

He Slept With His Assistant While I Watched From Upstairs Novel Cover
9.3
After three years of marriage, Ava discovers her husband, billionaire CEO Ethan, is entangled in a scandalous affair with his personal assistant. While standing atop the stairs of their luxury home, she witnesses their betrayal firsthand. Devastated by the sight of the man she loved with another woman, Ava decides to end the charade. As she navigates the pain of infidelity, she must find the strength to reclaim her life and leave her unfaithful spouse.
His Accidental Heiress  Novel Cover
8.8
Elena's life has never been easy. She's 23, broke, and working long hours at a small café just to keep a roof over her head. Her best friend, Elizabeth, worries she'll work herself to death, so one night she drags Elena to a house party. Elena doesn't like parties, but she goes anyway. That night changes everything. Looking for the bathroom, she opens the wrong door and finds herself in the same room as a man-tall, handsome, and mysterious. They don't exchange names. They don't plan it. One thing leads to another, and they spend the night together. By morning, he's gone. No note. No name. Just gone. Elena tries to forget about it until weeks later, when she realizes she's pregnant. Panic hits her hard. She doesn't know the man's name. She doesn't have his number. She's broke and alone, but she decides to keep the baby and work harder. Around this time, Elliott, Elena's boss, starts visiting the café often. He's friendly, supportive, and becomes her closest friend. She has no idea Elliott is connected to her mystery man. When the café job can't cover her bills anymore, Elliott helps her find a better job as a secretary in a big company. She's relieved-until her first day on the job, when she sees him. Jaxon Thorn. The father of her baby. Jaxon is shocked too. He feels betrayed that she didn't tell him sooner. She feels hurt that he left without a word. Things get even worse when Khloe-the woman desperate to marry Jaxon-steps in to destroy Elena. One night turned their worlds upside down. Now, they have to face the truth: Can love really come from one mistake?
His Million-Dollar Lies, Her Vengeful Rise Novel Cover
7.1
My daughter Cecilia was fighting for every breath in our moldy apartment. I was a paralegal working myself to the bone, while my husband, a "struggling artist," couldn't sell a single painting. Then, I found his name on the deed to a multi-million dollar penthouse. It was a gift for his celebrity mistress, Fiona. He called our daughter's life-threatening asthma an "inconvenience." But I only snapped when Fiona stole Cecilia's inhaler at a school event, leaving her to suffocate while she smiled for the cameras. When Justin finally showed up, he ran right past our daughter to comfort his mistress. "What have you done?" he hissed at me. He thought I was just his ordinary, unambitious wife. He was about to learn that I was the one who would tear his entire empire of lies to the ground.
His Mistress Was My Sister in My Wedding Dress Novel Cover
9.1
On her wedding day, Sarah’s world shatters when she finds her fiancé and her sister entangled in a scandalous affair. Devastated by the betrayal of those she trusted most, she flees the ceremony and crosses paths with a mysterious, powerful billionaire. This chance encounter ignites an unexpected romance that offers her a path to healing. As she navigates this new world of luxury, she must find the strength to reclaim her future.
I Built Your Empire, Now It Burns Novel Cover
9.2
I realized my husband did not love me the moment he stepped over my broken heart to answer a text from his mistress. Caleb was the "Architect," a feared Capo in New York, but he forgot that I was the one who funded his rise from the gutter with my inheritance. He brought his assistant, Kimberly, into our private penthouse. She wore my silk robe, mocked my past trauma, and snapped my dead mother’s rosary right in front of my eyes. When I lashed out in grief, Caleb didn't defend me. He pinned me against the wall, comforting her while calling me "unstable" and "violent." He gaslighted me, claiming I would be eaten alive without his protection. He thought I was just a fragile princess who would crumble without him. He truly believed he was the king, forgetting that I was the one who built the castle. I didn't cry. I simply wiped the blood from my arm and walked out the door. He didn't know that I owned thirty percent of his laundering front and the land beneath his precious casino. I picked up the phone and dialed the number of his deadliest rival, the Irish mob. "The bank is closed, Caleb. I’m selling my shares to the enemy."
Marrying His Mistress At Our Altar Novel Cover
8.6
On her wedding day, Seraphina is shattered when her fiancé, Julian, brings his pregnant mistress to the altar and demands a marriage of three. Betrayed by the man she loved, she must navigate a humiliating public scandal and the cold reality of Julian's cruelty. As she struggles to reclaim her dignity, Seraphina discovers hidden strengths and potential new allies, realizing that her supposed fairy tale was a gilded cage she must now escape.