Cruel Lover

Chapter One

Malta

“I… Please can I see your boss?” Heat rises to my face as I say the words, feeling out of my depth. “It’s urgent.”

I try to ignore the thoughts intruding on my mind. The memory of my father lying there, face bloodied and bruised, one knee broken, struggling to hold onto consciousness. We barely had time to say a few words, me trying to keep him calm, him admitting he owes money to the man that runs this place.

Then the ambulance was there, medics, my father losing consciousness. The hospital room, the doctor telling me he was stable but critical, in and out of consciousness, that the next 24 hours would be crucial.

And then coming here, almost in a daze. I barely remember the walk, even as I’m aware of the ache in my feet. It’s miles, and I’m in heels. Low heels for work, but still, not practical footwear. I don’t drive. I probably should have got a cab, but it just didn’t occur to me.

“Think you’ve got the wrong place, sweetheart.”

“Please just tell him Malta Green is here. I’m…” My voice cracks on the word and I swallow back, my heart thundering. “I’m the daughter of Winston Green.”

I don’t miss the way the man’s eyes appraise me, sliding from my ankles to my waist, lingering on my breasts before meeting my eyes. He’s at least two heads taller than me, and looks like he could bench press a tank. The February air isn’t just cold, it’s positively freezing, and I’m wishing I’d changed into something that covered me a little better. Then again, maybe my court outfit will give me an advantage.

A practical skirt suit and silk shirt? Not exactly a femme fatale, Malta.

I’ve never used my sexuality before. The idea of doing so now fills me with dread. But I have to do something.

“You don’t look like a whore. Boss expecting you?”

“I’m a lawyer. He isn’t expecting me but I need to see him.” I try to keep my voice even, ignoring his comment. How often do prostitutes come here? Should I have pretended to be one? “Will you tell him I’m here please?”

He sucks his teeth for a moment, then glances around the alley as if it might be some sort of trick, a ruse to get him to leave his post.

I feel like pointing out that there’s no way I’d be in this part of town under any other circumstances. I’m not tricking him, I’m just trying to deal with a situation that’s none of my own fault.

“Daughter of Winston Green?”

I nod. “That’s right.”

“Wait here.”

He turns and has to duck to go in through the door, his shoulders barely squeezing through the gap. I fold my arms over my chest and shiver as I take a step back, glancing back down the alley. It’s dark here, but there’s a street light on the main street, illuminating the front of the Volos Bar, and I stare at it for a moment. There’s no signage here, no advertising to tell you what this place is. My father just called it The Den.

Opposite the Volos Bar, down the alley. Whole place stinks of shit, but not dog shit, Rebecca told me when she arrived. My best friend since preschool, a shoulder to sob my heart out into as we stood in the hospital corridor. She rolled her eyes at my look of confusion. I’m a cop, Malta, it’s my job to know all the worst shitholes this fine city has to offer. You want me to come with you?

The door opens and I hear a shout of frustration from inside as the doorman steps out. “Boss says to send you in. After I search you for any weapons.” He grins.

Rebecca warned me this might happen. When I insisted I had to go alone, that the last thing I wanted to do was spook them, she told me exactly what to do.

“Fine,” I say, raising my arms. “But if you touch me in a way I find inappropriate, I’ll spend tomorrow morning talking to everyone I know at the courthouse. I’ll have law enforcement on your ass 24/7. If you step out of line you’ll be arrested and prosecuted like a f—”

My voice falters. Rebecca used the word, but I can’t. I don’t talk like that. God, please help me.

“Like a dog,” I say, removing the curse word from the lines Rebecca made me repeat to her until I could say them. “You’ll get the worst judge, the least competent attorney. Anything I can do to make your life hell, I will. But go ahead and search me.”

He hesitates for a moment, and I can almost hear the cogs whirring to life as my words start to sink in. There must be a dozen girls he could have his way with tonight if he wants to, why bother taking the risk?