Predator: A Dark College Bully Romance (Great Lakes University Duet Book 1) Read online

  Predator

  Great Lakes University Duet Book 1

  Londyn Quinn

  Copyright

  Predator © 2020 Sinners & Saviors, LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published: Sinners & Saviors, LLC 2020

  Cover Design: Sinners & Saviors, LLC

  Formatting by: Sinners & Saviors, LLC

  Editing by:

  Elaine York: Allusion Graphics

  [email protected]

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  About the Author

  Also by Londyn Quinn

  Dedication

  For all of the readers who loved Phoenix and begged for his own story… this is for you!

  Chapter 1

  Ciara

  “You need to be invisible, Ciara. If you slip up even once and someone connects you to us, death will be the least of your worries.”

  I repeat those words to myself over and over, my breath hitching as I trudge through the frigid night air in downtown Chicago. My teeth chatter and the tiny hairs inside of my nose prickle as they morph into ice crystals.

  This city is fucking brutal in so many ways, but the fierce winter weather tops the list. Gusts of wind nearly blow me into the side of a building as I hurry toward the exclusive underground sex club in the next block, my tall, charcoal heels clicking along the concrete. I pull my black penny coat tighter around me, pinching the collar so the air can’t infiltrate the heavy wool barrier.

  My outfit sure isn’t doing me any favors right now, either. The tight mini dress I have on is pretty much a glorified bathing suit, and the air swirls up the back of the skirt, making me gasp.

  That was fucking painful since I’m not wearing panties.

  I swallow a groan. Why do I keep putting myself into these situations?

  I look down at the face staring back at me on my phone screen.

  The target du jour.

  And then I remember why I’m here in the first place and the chill dissipates. Da put me on a plane to settle a score between our family and the Brannicks in Dublin. The long-running feud between our families took the lives of the two people I loved the most—my granddad, Aidan, and my brother, Timothy.

  The hate between our clans runs far, wide, and deep, and now it has seeped into our interests here in the States.

  So I hopped across the pond to protect what’s left of my family and to destroy the Brannicks piece by piece.

  That’s what Da expects of me, and as the only Lanagan heir remaining, I have to deliver.

  Maybe then he’ll actually give a shit about me and treat me like a daughter instead of a bloody hired gun.

  Not that my Uncle Deaglán knows the truth about my mission. He thinks I’m studying while I’m darting through the streets of Chicago, doing reconnaissance on our enemies. Da made arrangements for me to stay with him because nobody would ever look for me in the shitbox Uncle Deaglán calls a home. Unbeknownst to him, he keeps my cover intact, which is very helpful on nights like this one.

  I pick up the pace until I finally arrive in front of the club, swallowing down the anger that threatens to boil over.

  I’ll save it for the time being—after all, it’ll be unleashed soon enough.

  There is no sign visible and no indication at all that there is anything going on beyond the heavy metal door. I expel a quick breath and punch a few numbers into the keypad embedded into the brick. I shift in my heels, hugging my arms as the agonizing moments pass.

  Christ, has time stopped? Why the fuck isn’t anyone letting me inside?

  I breathe warm air into my hands, shivering and repeating my own personal mantra as I wait.

  Find the target and destroy it.

  Get out as fast as you can.

  And for fuck’s sake, be invisible!

  The last words are always the most important.

  Hence, the expletive.

  The door finally creaks open and a tall dark-skinned man dressed head to toe in black gives me a long look before stepping aside and ushering me into the dimly lit corridor. On nights like this, when there are private parties being held upstairs, the deviants are directed straight into the seedy underbelly of the club.

  It doesn’t happen often, the co-mingling of guests and agendas, but tonight it suits my purposes just fine.

  I take a few steps toward the staircase leading into the sex den, the most exclusive and notorious in the city. It took a damn long time for me to get vetted and approved as a member.

  Under my alias, of course.

  And soon the entire process will be well worth the effort.

  All in preparation for this one night.

  I step onto the floor when I reach the bottom, careful to sidestep groups of naked patrons fucking each other in my path. Everywhere and anywhere. No section is off limits. Couples and groups groan and buck on couches, against walls, sprawled on tables—completely consumed in their own little worlds seeped in pleasure. It’s the perfect cloak for the devious agenda about to be checked off my list.

  And the best part?

  No cameras.

  Which will satisfy my third objective.

  Be invisible.

  I can’t raise any red flags tonight. I can’t alert our enemies that I’ve breached their walls.

  Easy to do when there’s no record of you being among the voyeurs.

  Even easier when you don’t even exist.

  I left Ciara Lanagan back in Dublin.

  Here, I am Sloane Doyle, student by day and assassin when I’m not buried in course work at the university.

  I unbutton my long coat, revealing my skimpy barely there ensemble. I pull down the hem so I don’t give a premature showing to anyone admiring the view.

  I’m saving it all.

  A grin teases my lips, and they curl upward as I strut down the hallway toward a set of private rooms. Behind these doors are dimly lit rooms that are on reserve for very elite clientele for more ‘private’ viewing parties.

  But tonight there will only be two people inside. r />
  I stop at room number four.

  No other pairs of eyes will witness what’s about to happen behind this door.

  And only one pair will be leaving once our sordid party comes to an end.

  I take a deep breath as I grip the door handle with one hand, smoothing the blonde wig covering my raven-black hair with the other.

  He’s in there, waiting for me.

  My heart thrums in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I push open the door.

  I’ve always been crap at following instructions.

  Goddamn bloodlust.

  I will make you proud, Da.

  Chapter 2

  Phoenix

  I lean against the bar with my highball of Macallan, swirling the amber-colored liquor around the glass. The music…if you can even call it that…is deafening.

  My skull pounds, temples throbbing from the electronica, and I’m counting the minutes until I can get the hell out of here.

  I don’t usually come to these parties. I don’t trust any of these guys as far as I can throw them, and I definitely don’t need any new partners for my investment firm. But yet here I am, being circled by fucking sharks looking to take a bite out of my very lucrative portfolio.

  They want to know my secrets so they can boast about their own multi-seven-figure quarters.

  The funny thing is, the money isn’t even my driver.

  Yeah, I make a shit ton of it, and even though I have a gift for playing the market, I get plenty of classified information in creatively illicit ways that would have me behind bars faster than the Dow would tank if a pandemic hit this country.

  So, no, I can’t share my trade secrets.

  I’d rather keep them guessing.

  My firm is boutique. I employ a very small team of experts that includes highly intelligent math and science wizards from Stanford, Caltech, and MIT. They can’t carry on a lighthearted conversation to save their lives, but then again, I didn’t hire them for their ability to socialize.

  Sheer brilliance.

  I’m more than willing to pay the exorbitant price tag, because it’s a mere fraction of the benefits I reap as a result.

  I look around at the hacks surrounding me and take a long sip of my drink.

  “How much longer do we need to stay?” My younger brother, Xander, asks as he hails down the bartender for another drink. “I told Charlotte I’d be home before nine.” He grins. “She has an exam tomorrow in her elementary ed class, and I’m gonna help her study.”

  “Uh-huh.” I drain the rest of the scotch from my glass. “Role play?”

  He lets out a moan. “Oh, fuck, I love how she whips me with the ruler if I’m bad.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’d hate to stand in the way of your twisted sex life. Feel free to take off whenever you want, as long as you don’t tell me what else she’s gonna whip you with. I really don’t need that mental image burned into my brain.”

  Xander’s lips curl upward into a mischievous smirk. “She’s got some cute friends from her classes, maybe one of them can be her assistant. And you can be the tight ass prick who never does his homework.”

  “You’re fucking twisted, Xan.”

  “And you’re wound like a goddamn top, Phoenix.” He lifts an eyebrow. “I’m just saying, all work, no play makes for a very boring…”

  Xander is still talking, but the pulsing beats tune him out, making his voice fade into the background. My chest tightens as a pair of crystal blue eyes flash in my direction, so piercing, they could cut through diamonds.

  I grip the glass tight as Xander chuckles, launching into some damn sordid sexcapade that I’m desperately trying to ignore as the girl standing a few feet away from me flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder, a long black coat wrapped tight around her. Her cheeks are pink from the cold, her lips a dark red, and when they curl upward, I see a whole lot in that expression that makes my cock twitch.

  It’s vicious, vengeful, and it dares me to find out what else lies beneath that gorgeously sadistic exterior.

  Our gazes lock, and my breath hitches as a seductive smile tugs at her full Cupid’s bow. With one last, long look, she twists away from me and heads down into the lower level of the club.

  Fuck me.

  “Hey!” Xander slaps my arm, jolting me from the twisted fantasy that the woman just conjured up in the deepest, most deviant fragment of my mind.

  I rake a hand through my hair. “Yeah?”

  “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Naughty teacher, prick assistant, doesn’t do his homework,” I mumble, feeling a swirl of heat rage in my gut. Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I met a woman who was able to make my cock twist like that, much less seen one who could have the same effect with just one glance.

  I need to find her.

  Xander follows my gaze to the staircase right outside of the main lounge area and lets out a low whistle. “You freaky little fuck! You wanna go down there, don’t you?” He claps his hands. “Damn, Phoenix. I was afraid you were asexual or some shit like that. But no! You’re just as twisted as me!”

  I glare at him. “First of all, don’t ever say that to me again. The shit you tell me because you just need to unload makes my ears bleed. Trust me, bro. I’m nothing like you.”

  Xander snickers. “That pole wedged up your ass…it’s cemented in there, isn’t it?”

  “Didn’t you say you wanted to leave?” I bark back.

  “Yeah,” he says, a wicked grin on his face. He sucks down the rest of his drink and leaves the rocks glass on the bar. “I’ll get out of here so you can go down and find an orgy that has an opening for a tight-ass financial genius.” He laughs. “Get it? Opening? Oh, and if you show up to work tomorrow in assless leather chaps, I’m popping open some champagne.”

  “All chaps are assless, idiot.”

  I watch Xander roll his eyes as I flip him off and turn my back toward the bar, and not two seconds afterward, some bright-eyed, smug-ass guy waltzes up to me, sticks out his hand, then launches into his pompous, Ivy League-tinged resume. I zone out after he tells me his name, which is followed by some Roman numerals, since the only thing I can focus on right now is the blonde who slipped in and out of my life, and wondering what the hell she’s wearing underneath that coat.

  She might be right beneath my feet at this very second.

  Naked.

  Possibly being double-teamed.

  Fucking lucky assholes.

  My gut clenches, and I force a smile at the guy who hasn’t yet stopped to take a breath. I watch him without hearing a word and when he finally pauses to take a sip of his fruity-looking drink, I feel my phone vibrate against my leg and I pull it out, peering at the screen and the text I’ve been waiting for.

  Downstairs. Room Four. Give me twenty.

  “All that being said, I think I’d be a great asset to your firm, Phoenix.” Roman Numeral flashes his cocky smile at me, nodding his head as if he’s trying to convince me I should do the same.

  I stare at him for a second before answering, knowing that he’s about to crap his khakis waiting for me to offer him a job.

  But I don’t.

  “And what I think is that maybe Daddy needs to pull some other strings for you because in this lifetime, you will never get a seat on my trading floor. I don’t give a fuck which big wig club you belong to or what school your diploma came from.” I beam at him and pick up my glass, holding it up to his. “But best of luck to you.”

  The guy’s jaw drops, and I swallow a snicker as he slinks away from me. He probably has plenty of investment firms in town licking his asshole because of who his father is, but I couldn’t give a shit less. I don’t need power or clout.

  I have both. And plenty of each in spades.

  I narrow my eyes at the staircase that snakes down to the lower level…the most opulent and notoriously kinky sex den in Chicago.

  I’d always heard that he likes to partake in the festivitie
s in the underbelly of this place, so it didn’t shock me when he mentioned it as a meeting spot. I guess he wants to kill two birds with one stone. But it all played out very differently in my mind. I figured he’d come in, meet me at the bar, give me what he owes me, and I’d be home playing Madden on my Xbox by ten.

  I never figured we’d do the deal down below.

  What a fucking ironic twist.

  But it is a million euros.

  And it’s time to collect.

  I had set up an oceanfront real estate deal for the Brannick organization and fronted the cash. The plan is to run the drugs through the construction site and then launder the money through the buildout. Then we flip the property for even more coin.

  But right now, I’m the one with all the risk on his shoulders.

  And I’m not a fucking bank.

  I don’t like to be owed anything, least of all money.

  I grit my teeth.

  He’s downstairs.

  She went downstairs, too.

  I slam the empty glass on the counter and order another from the bartender. “Make it a double.”

  I’m gonna need it since I don’t plan on leaving this place until I find her.

  Chapter 3

  Ciara

  “Did you take care of it?” Easton Hale’s bright green eyes flicker over my lack of clothing, one dark eyebrow quirked.

  “You know I did,” I say in an even voice, forcing a tight smile. “I always deliver.”

  It took me a bit of time to finally track Easton once I got stateside, but through his operatives I was able to get inside the tight walls of the Brannick family’s organization here in Chicago. The organization that is poised to crush ours. The organization I am going to flatten like a cockroach.