finally moved out when she was eight.
Deidre didn’t blame her, not really. Her father beat her almost daily, and when he’d started taking his meaty fists to her, Ma just couldn’t take it anymore. She’d tried taking Deidre with her, but her dad was a powerful man and had run his wife through the mud, making her look like nothing but a drug-addicted whore.
It couldn’t be further from the truth, but he was a world-class manipulator, and she was only eight, so no matter how many times she’d tried to say no, it would infuriate him. No one ever listened. So here it was two years later, and she saw her mom once a year on her birthday for a very short amount of time—time that she treasured.
“Yes, Da?” she asked as she walked inside, stopping short when she saw a huge hulking man standing sentry at the bottom of the staircase and to the side of her father’s study.
“Get in here,” he snapped from said study.
“Please, would ya come in here,” she mumbled in a low, deep voice, wishing just once he would treat her like a person instead of a thing.
A snort as she passed The Hulk had her stopping short and looking up into his stone cold face. His eyes betrayed his amusement. A small smile graced her lips as she walked into the study before fixing her face into a blank stare.
*****
Watching in amusement as the little spitfire went into his current employer’s study, he knew he should worry about her. But that small spark showed that she was tougher than her petite stature might imply.
Dominic Slade had slowly been working his way into Bradshaw Williams, lll’s organization for over a year now. Williams was the CEO of Williams’ Fine Art Exchange, buying rare pieces of art and reselling it at a marked-up value. Sounded pretty straightforward; however, he had duplicates made of the paintings and laced the canvases with contaminated cocaine.
For the last five years, Bradshaw had been working with drug cartels in both Ireland and England, shipping their merchandise back and forth, taking all the risk with the highest payout. Only the moron forgot one thing…It all traced back to him. Meaning the English and Irish governments were on his trail; hence, the reason Dominic had now infiltrated his organization. He’d slowly and quietly worked his way to guarding the boss, being instructed to take out Bradshaw without it blowing back on him or either government. His chances were slim because Bradshaw liked having an entourage with him at all times, and eliminating everyone else wasn’t part of the job. So he was biding his time.
The little girl was a shock. She was a well-kept secret that not many people outside of his circle knew about. The ex-wife was another story because Bradshaw enjoyed bragging about how he ruined her. Made her suicidal.
Fucking slime ball. What kind of man does that to the woman he should be protecting and loving for the rest of her life? He didn’t get it.
He, himself, wasn’t a hearts and flowers type of guy. He was very possessive of what belonged to him and knew that one day a woman would come along and not only tolerate it but fight back to enjoy it.
Listening to Bradshaw yell at his daughter about some stupid shit grated on his nerves, and he felt bad for the girl as he heard her yell, “But Da, it’s me birthday! I’m supposed to see Mam on that day!” He could hear the tears and distress in her voice.
“I don’t give a shite. You’re my child, and you’ll do as I say.” The finality in Bradshaw’s voice would have had grown men backing down or retreating. Not this girl, though.
“Fuck that! She’s my mam, and you can’t stop me!”
Shit, he thought, making his way to the room knowing what was coming.
“Why you little bitch!” was what he heard as he opened the door just as Bradshaw punched the girl in the face. Closed fist. Motherfucker.
“What the fuck!” Dom stormed in as she flew to the floor with a silent cry.
“Mind your business, Slade. This is between my child and me,” he growled out.
Walking over to the girl, Dom was pissed when she cowered away from him. No child should ever cower from a man. He was ready to kill this fucker right then and there. The only thing stopping him was her.
“C’mon kid, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said gently, bending down so she could see him and offer his hand.
She watched him like a bug under a microscope; her eyes quickly darted to her father before settling back on him. Grabbing his hand, she pulled her small body into his.
“Useless child,” Bradshaw grumbled as Dom helped her to her feet. “Get her the fuck outta here.”
Pushing the young girl’s slight frame in front of his, he guided her out of the office asking, “Where’s your room, kid?”
She shot him a look of horror like he planned god-awful things for her. Laughing at her shocked face he told her, “We’re gonna clean your face up, kid.”
“Me name is not kid,” she snapped. Clearly not afraid of him anymore.
“Oh yeah?”
“’Tis Deidre,” she told him saucily.