Bad Intentions

  Contents

  Content Warning

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Books by Tara Wyatt

  About the Author

  Bad Intentions © 2021 by Tara Wyatt

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by Croco Designs

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  * * *

  ISBN 978-1-7771046-9-6

  Content Warning

  This book contains depictions or descriptions of violence, gun use, threats of sexual assault, stalking, blood, kidnapping, and parental death (historical, off-page).

  Prologue

  Lucian Prescott didn’t think he’d ever held a baby before, aside from his youngest siblings. He wracked his brain, trying to recall a time in his life when he would’ve, but he came up empty. Staring down at the tiny pink bundle in his arms, he couldn’t help but feel as though he were sullying the perfect baby girl just by touching her. Hands like his—hands that inflicted pain, that took away that which was precious—were far too dirty for something so pure and pristine as a baby.

  And yet.

  With his newborn baby niece Isabella in his arms, something visceral passed through him. Something wholly unexpected that made him close his eyes and breathe in her soft, sweet new baby smell. He glanced over at his sister Aerin, nestled into the other corner of the couch, Isabella’s twin Arianna sleeping in her arms. Aerin’s husband Javi hovered nearby, a burp cloth tossed over one shoulder.

  Five days ago, Aerin and Javi’s surrogate had given birth to two perfectly healthy baby girls and everyone in the Prescott family—Theo and Lauren, Sebastian and Kayla, Max and Willa, and Lucian—had converged on Dallas, eager to meet the first members of the next generation of Prescotts. When Aerin and Javi had first shared that they were having twins via a surrogate, Lucian had thought that Bella and Ari, as they were already being called, would likely be the only members of the next generation, but after the way things had unfolded over the past several months, he wasn’t willing to take that bet anymore.

  His youngest brother Theo was engaged to Lauren, an up-and-coming folk-rock singer, and they were getting married next summer. He had no doubt that his brothers Sebastian and Max wouldn’t be far behind when it came to putting a ring on their respective women, Kayla and Willa. There would be weddings and babies in the future, and knowing that felt like knowing that flowers would bloom in what had once been toxic soil.

  Aerin shot him a smile, her eyes tired but her body relaxed and happy. Returning the smile, he looked back down at tiny little Bella, his heart twisting at the knowledge that he would never have this. His life was messy and dangerous and complicated, and however his story ended, he wouldn’t go down as the hero. Frankly, if he managed to stay out of prison, he’d count that as his happily ever after.

  Besides that, he was forty-four years old. The baby ship had sailed long ago. If it had ever even existed for him, which it most likely hadn’t. But it existed for the rest of his family, and that was good enough. More than good enough.

  He’d spent his life looking out for them. Protecting them and bailing their idiotic asses out time and again, and it hadn’t always been easy. It hadn’t always been painless. Some of the things he’d done had cost him little pieces of his soul that he knew he’d never get back. But for them, he’d do it again. Over and over. Until there was nothing left.

  “Who wants a turn?” he asked, glancing around the room at the rest of his family. Willa and Max sat together on the couch across from him, her legs over his lap, Max staring at her as though she were the most remarkable thing he’d ever seen. Kayla and Sebastian stood near Aerin, cooing over Ari.

  “Can I?” asked Lauren, stepping forward, her face bright and eager. Aerin nodded and after Lauren had cleaned her hands, Lucian carefully passed the bundle to her, letting her have his vacated seat.

  God, the look on Theo’s face as he watched Lauren hold little Bella…What would it be like, to feel that kind of love? That kind of devotion? He envied his brothers and what they’d found, all while knowing that it wasn’t meant for him. He’d chosen a different path a long time ago, and there was no getting off it now.

  As if she could hear his thoughts, Aerin’s eyes locked on him, her head cocked. She passed Ari to Sebastian and then stood and stretched. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, there were dark circles beneath her eyes, and she was wearing an old Dallas Longhorns T-shirt with not one but two spit up stains on it.

  She’d never looked happier.

  “You okay?” she mouthed, her eyes narrowing.

  He nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets, but apparently Aerin wasn’t the only one who’d taken notice of his reaction to holding the baby.

  “You know,” said Lauren softly, looking up at him as she stroked a finger down Bella’s tiny nose, “you’re the only single Prescott left.”

  Yes, thank you. I am well fucking aware.

  The words were on the tip of his tongue but he bit them back, instead going for levity. “True. But I do believe you’re out of friends, Lauren.” They laughed quietly at that, seeing as Sebastian and Max had each fallen for Lauren’s two best friends. “And I’m not. Noah, Hudson and Levi are all single,” he said, diverting attention to their cousins. After both Theo and Sebastian had relocated to California—Theo had followed Lauren to Los Angeles so she could pursue her music career, and Sebastian had been hired as a snowboarding coach for Team USA, which meant that he and Kayla had moved to Lake Tahoe—he’d been missing his brothers and spending a little more time with Noah, Hudson, and Levi to compensate. The only problem was that while his siblings knew the partial truth about who he was and how he operated, his cousins didn’t and he wasn’t sure how they’d take it.

  His phone began buzzing from his pocket. “Excuse me,” he said, moving through the living room and into the kitchen where he stepped out into the backyard to take his call.

  “Lucian. You’re needed back in New York.” Luca’s voice was clipped, his tone urgent.

  “For?”

  “Salvatore just called in his favor.”

  Lucian closed his eyes, swearing under his breath because he’d been hoping to stay in Dallas a day or two longer.

  Earlier that month, a reporter from the New York Times had published a damaging, libelous article about Max and Willa, one that had almost wrecked their relationship. Needing to protect his family—and exact a little revenge, let’s be honest—Lucian had gone to Sal Perri, knowing that he had ties to the media, asking that the reporter be fired and her professional reputation destroyed. He’d come through, effectively ruining Kelly Palmer’s career. But that was what happened when someone messed with his family. There was a price to be paid. Always.

  “That was fast. What does he need?

  “There are two businesses who don’t want to pay for protection anymore. Sal wants you to come negotiate with them
.”

  He glanced down at his watch, doing a quick calculation as to how soon he could be back in Manhattan. “I’ll be there by morning.”

  He slipped his phone back into his pocket and pulled out his pack of Dunhills and a lighter. He’d just lit his cigarette, taking a long drag, when the door opened behind him and Aerin stepped out.

  “I thought you quit,” she said dryly, frowning at him.

  “It’s a spectrum,” he said, blowing out a stream of smoke.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Morose.”

  “Morose? Who am I? Heathcliff wandering the moors?”

  She grinned and then snatched his cigarette, stubbing it out against the brick wall behind them. “These things will kill you.”

  Of all of his siblings, Aerin was the most in the dark about his life and the shades of gray in which he operated, even though he was close with her, being only sixteen months older than her. But she had no idea that the occasional cigarette was far from the most dangerous thing in his life. His entire lifestyle was a health hazard.

  Several members of his family had asked him if he was in the mafia over the past few months, and he’d been telling the truth when he’d said he wasn’t part of any organized crime family. He wasn’t. But he was also far from innocent because he worked closely with them. It was a long, complicated story he hoped he’d never have to tell his family because it would expose the worst of his sins.

  Sins like murder.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” said Aerin, leaning against the wall and turning her face up to the sky. It was a warm June day, the sun beaming down from an impossibly blue sky. Lucian was pretty sure the sky was never quite this blue in Manhattan.

  “I’m more than okay,” he said. “I’m thrilled for you and Javi. The babies are perfect.” He turned to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. “And they’re lucky to have you. You’re going to be a wonderful mother, Aerin.”

  She smiled, joy radiating off of her. “Thank you. They are perfect.” She sighed. “For a very long time, I didn’t think motherhood was in the cards for me. Eric and I tried, but then we got divorced and I didn’t think I’d ever find someone again, but then I fell for Javi. But even then, I didn’t know if he’d want to have more kids, seeing as he already had two with his ex-wife.”

  “Of course he’d want to have kids with you,” Lucian said softly. Aerin’s first husband Eric had been a real piece of shit who’d cheated on her and burned her self-esteem to the ground. The only reason Lucian hadn’t ruined his life was because Aerin had asked him not to. He was glad that she’d divorced him and had found Javi, who treated her like the goddess she was.

  “Do you ever think about settling down? Is that something you even want?” she asked, eyeing him.

  “No,” he lied. “It’s not.”

  Her eyes softened and she tilted her head. “I just have a hard time believing that you haven’t found anyone you’d be interested in having a relationship with. I can’t even remember the last time you had a girlfriend.”

  But that was just it. There was a woman he was interested in. Very interested. Hell, she was the only woman he’d been interested in for the five years that he’d known her. But she wasn’t for him. She was too young—eighteen years younger than him—and far too sweet and innocent for a twisted up old bastard like him. On top of that, she was the daughter of one of his biggest investors, and he knew that Gavin would have him disemboweled if he had any idea as to the desires Lucian harbored when it came to his daughter. Not to mention that getting involved with anyone was dangerous, not just for him, but for her, too. So he kept his distance, each interaction with her the most exquisite kind of torture. He both craved and dreaded being around her.

  So, no. It wasn’t that he hadn’t found anyone. He had. He just knew better than to think he could have Olivia without that happiness blowing up in his face.

  He shrugged and smoothed over his lie with a truth, an indisputable one. “I’m better off on my own.”

  1

  July, five years ago

  “Olivia! Holy shit. You look so freaking hot!” Olivia Walsh’s best friend Whitney Vanek pulled her in for a hug, then held her away, her eyes roving up and down Olivia’s body. “That dress is ridiculous! There’s no way Tyler doesn’t notice you in this.”

  Blood rushed to her cheeks as she smoothed her hand down the front of the dress. It was made of red velvet and clung to her body, leaving very little to the imagination. Spaghetti straps held it up, and the front dipped into a deep V, exposing her cleavage. The straps crisscrossed over her back, meeting the fabric where it squeezed tight over her ass. It was a come fuck me dress if there’d ever been one, and she’d worn it tonight, the night of her 21st birthday, because it made her feel sexy and grown up and ready to take on the world. After all, she was an adult now. Next year she’d finish her degree in art history, and she already knew that she wanted to go to Pratt to study interior design. She had an amazing group of friends, and it felt as though all of the elements of her life were coming together, snapping into place like puzzle pieces.

  Minus the fact that she was single. Sure, she had the occasional hook up or after-bar make out, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted a boyfriend. Someone to go on dates with and snuggle on the couch with and talk to about her life and her hopes and her problems. None of the guys she’d dated over the past few years had lasted more than a handful of weeks because they were just so…she didn’t know. They just weren’t what she was looking for. They were all too preoccupied with partying or hooking up or sports or whatever.

  They all felt like boys. And she wanted a man.

  With her arm looped through Whitney’s they stepped into the club, a small, upscale venue called the Canopy Lounge. She’d been to clubs and bars before, either joints that didn’t ask pretty girls for ID, or grimy bars where her fake ID was good enough as long as she had money. She’d never set foot in a place like this, with exposed brick walls, graffiti-style images of old-timey circus performers painted right onto the brick. Tea lights glowed from their recessed spaces among the bricks, and the furniture was all black leather and dark wood. A glamorous, art-deco style bar lined the far back wall, and a dance floor filled the space to the left. The entire VIP area was roped off with gold velvet rope, an enormous pair of balloons spelling out “21” coupled with a champagne bottle and a party hat floated in the far corner, just underneath an enormous black and gold sign proclaiming “Happy 21st Olivia!”

  Her father had recently invested in the hospitality company that owned this club—along with several other bars and restaurants in Manhattan—and had called in a favor from Prescott Group’s CEO in order to book out the entire VIP area for her birthday.

  A wave of happiness and excitement crested through her as she took it all in, and she gave Whitney’s arm a squeeze. The VIP area was already packed with about forty people, including her closest friends, and…Tyler. Yay.

  As she took a step forward, she cast a glance in Tyler’s direction, adjusting the fabric of her dress to show more of her cleavage. A black-clad bouncer unclipped the golden rope to let her and Whitney through and she spent the next several minutes running around and hugging everyone, accepting birthday wishes and compliments on her sexy dress. She’d had her hair blown out that afternoon, and it fell down her back in a glossy chestnut sheet. Because her dress was so sexy, she hadn’t wanted to overdo it with the makeup, keeping it pretty and subtle.

  She felt gorgeous and grown-up and happy, as though she were on the cusp of everything she’d ever wanted.

  “Liv!” She heard a familiar male voice and turned to find her dad standing on the other side of the golden rope, a giant, goofy smile on his face. It faltered slightly when he took in her dress, but he managed to smooth out his expression as she stood and walked toward him.

  “Dad!” she said, flinging her arms around him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I wasn’t e
xpecting to see you. Thank you for the party. It’s awesome.”

  He stepped back and smoothed a hand down her arm. “You’re welcome, princess. I’m glad you’re having fun. Are you…are you cold? In that dress?” He frowned slightly and she laughed, shaking her head.

  “No. I’m good.”

  He sighed. “I can’t believe you’re twenty-one. I feel like just yesterday we were watching The Incredibles and reading Harriet the Spy.”

  “Hey,” she said, socking him on the arm. “Don’t get all mushy on me, okay? This mascara isn’t waterproof.”

  He grinned and pulled her in for another hug. “Your mother would be so proud of how you turned out. You’re smart and kind and you’ve grown into a stunningly beautiful young woman.” He hugged her tighter, her own chest constricting at the mention of her mother. “You look just like her, you know.”

  She nodded against him, not caring if her friends saw her having a moment with her dad. Her mother had died in a car accident when Olivia had barely been three years old and her father had raised her on his own. So other people could think she was lame for loving her dad the way she did, but she didn’t give a shit what they thought.

  “Anyway,” he said, pulling away, his eyes bright, “I just wanted to stop by and make sure everything was going well. I’ll get out of your hair and let you have fun with your friends. Just…be safe tonight, okay? Don’t overdo it.”