Read Black Collar Beginnings: New York (Black Collar Syndicate) Online
Authors: AN Latro
Black Collar Beginnings: New York (Black Collar Syndicate)
AN Latro
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of any wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction including brands or products.
Copyright © 2014 by AN Latro
Black Collar Beginnings: New York by AN Latro
All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Crabby Books.
Summary:
With Seth Morgan gone, Caleb is left to protect and teach their younger cousin.
1. Mafia 2. Family Drama 3. Romance
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
For information, address AN Latro
https://www.facebook.com/pages/AN-Latro/1436838543270424
Edited by Brianna Shrum
Cover design by Melissa Stevens of The Illustrated Author
Cover art copyright©: AN Latro
Ebook Formatting: Gonet Designs
Table of Contents
Excerpt from Black Collar Empire
.
Irving Prep, New York City. October 4, 2012.
Her heels click ominously on the marble, an echoing reminder that she’s alone. The elite prep school is almost eerily empty—something that would bother her more, if she hadn’t expected it.
The budget meeting was open to the student body and their parents. But with so many parents making large donations to keep their kids out of trouble, no one paid much attention to the budget. She wouldn’t have attended if Uncle Mikie hadn’t called the night before and requested she’d go. Even then, she would have skipped it, if anyone else had asked. But it came from Mikie and he didn’t make many requests.
Still, her head aches from listening to the arguments, and from two exams earlier in the day. She’s anxious for the quiet of her room, even if it means dealing with her mother.
The heels of her shoes—the only things she wears that deviate from Irving’s uniform—falter as the door pulls open before she can touch it. A dark haired young man grins at her, too pale, his eyes too blue to be the one she wants.
It is odd to be so disappointed while happy. She pushes aside intrusive thoughts of her cousin, and settles for a smile. “Rico. What are you doing?”
“Boss wants to see you. Unless you’re busy, princess.”
Emma wrinkles her nose at him, and he laughs. Thoughts of home and a warm bath vanish. Rico plucks her bag from her shoulder, and escorts her out of the school, down the stone staircase.
The city is alive, smelling of exhaust and wet cement, and the crisp scent of winter. She’s almost vibrating with impatience as Rico opens the door for her and she slides into the Bentley. He lands on the seat next to her, and wraps an over her shoulders. The driver gives them a quick startled look before he pulls into traffic.
Rico is chattering, mindless nonsense as she adjusts her skirt, smoothing it down. She stares out the window as they slip through the city streets.
“You do that too,” Rico says, his tone serious. It startles her into looking at him, her eyebrow raised. “Caleb watches the city. Like it’s his own private playground.”
A smile teases one corner of her lips, as deviant a grin as Seth ever gave. She shifts a bit on the seat, and his arm falls off the back to land heavy on her shoulders.
Rico jerks away like he’s been burned.
She’s gorgeous, and they can tease. Flirt. Buy her presents and show her around the city she knows better than breathing. Caleb finds it almost amusing, and lets them out of runs to entertain her. But not one of Caleb’s men will dare touch her. Being the favorite of the Morgan men, the only daughter, comes with more protection than she actually appreciates, most days.
Seth wouldn’t allow her to be with his division—the entire idea of training her on the streets would infuriate him.
They both know it—sometimes, she thinks that’s half Caleb’s motivations. Pissing off the brother who isn’t here to care.
The car comes to a gentle stop, and Emma takes a breath, steadying herself and pushing aside all thoughts of Seth. He isn’t here. The promise he made is empty because he isn’t here.
She shakes her head, and Rico gives her a quick look. “You ok,
principessa?”
She doesn’t answer, just stares at him. Rico’s smiles are gone, all teasing vanishing now. He extends a hand, and she ignores it, slipping out of the car and tugging her skirt down before she strides into the little café.
He’s sitting in the corner booth, his back to the wall. There are a few discarded coffee cups in front of him—he’s been here a while, and his golden hair is tousled.
The bench across from him is empty, and she moves through the quiet café, past Caleb’s boys without comment, to slide in across from him.
Caleb Morgan flicks a lazy look over his cousin, and she meets it with a raised eyebrow. “Picking me up twice in three days, Caleb?”
“You want a coffee?” he asks, ignoring her jab. She nods, and he signals to one of the boys in his division. “Why are you late?” he asks, glancing at his phone.
“Board meeting. Uncle Mikie wanted me to attend.”
That brings his attention to her, and she shivers.
There have always been rumors around the Morgan sons. Tabloid gossip and speculation. It centered on Seth, more often than not. He was alive and vibrant, a hot vortex of emotion and sex. People gravitated to him.
Caleb was always the more reserved brother, the one who brooded in the background, all sharp edges and biting comments—but when he stared at her like this, all of his intensity focused on her, searching, she was reminded of just how similar the brothers could be.
Caleb tried very hard to convince the world that he was an unfeeling bastard. Most people even bought it. But she was different. She had always been different. She was the only daughter of the syndicate. There were other cousins, distant ones. Emma was special, though; Gabe had taught his sons by example that she was to be cared for and protected.
“You learn anything?”
“Irving wants a new pool,” she says, shrugging. Caleb’s eyes narrow, and he sits back as one of the boys sets Emma’s vanilla latte down. She toys with her spoon and watches him. Finally she kicks him lightly. “Quit brooding. It was just a meeting. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Caleb refocuses on her, his blue eyes staring. “Drink your coffee, Em.”
She makes a dissatisfied noise in the back of her throat, but does what she’s told, settling into her seat with the coffee and dragging out a notebook. As she starts her homework, Caleb watches her. She’s acutely aware of his attention. It doesn’t fluster her, not the way Seth’s did, before he left.
“Will you stop teaching me, when he comes home?”
She looks at him from under her lashes, and because she’s watching for it, she catches the spasm of pain, so minuscule that it’s almost gone before she sees it. His gaze goes icy and severe, that imperious look that scares the shit out of her, if she’s completely honest.
Caleb so rarely looks at her like that.
She ducks, refocusing on her homework. The door to the little café swings open, and a wave of tension ricochets around the room.
Caleb’s voice is a soft murmur, almost lost in the sudden movement, as his client approaches and she settles back into quiet anonymity. “
Never.”
.
Bethania’s Brownstone, New York City. October 4, 2012.
Caleb’s eyes hurt, and he resists scrubbing the heel of his hand over them as the Bentley comes to a stop. Emma is fidgeting next to him, all anxious nerves. He spooked her, when she asked that earlier. But dragging up Seth’s ghost—fuck, he wasn’t used to having his baby brother thrown in his face like that.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs now, and his gaze slips to her, lazily.
He sighs, a disgruntled noise. “Don’t be sorry, Emma. You surprised me.”
“But you were mad,” she says softly.
How the hell did Dad do it? Work lessons into everything. He doesn’t have that subtly, or the desire to learn it. He looks at his cousin head on. “I’m furious, Emma. With him, for being gone. And Mikie for sending him. It’s hard to process that and separate it when I’m caught off guard. You caught me off guard.”
She’s quiet, and then, “You scared me.”
His heart twists. That wasn’t what he wanted. Never.
“Emma,” he starts.
“Uncle Gabe scared me, sometimes. I knew he’d keep me safe, but every once in a while, he’d slip and I’d see what terrified everyone else in the family.” She sidesteps the word that better describes their
family.
His lips twitch. “It was like that.”
He goes still. This is the second time in only a few hours that she has managed to startle him, and he’s not sure how to react. Emma studies him for a long minute. With this expression, so open and serious, she looks like Seth. She will never have his brother’s dark coloring, but it’s a look he has seen on Seth’s face.
She leans in, brushing a kiss over his cheek. It takes a concentrated effort not to flinch.
This is Emma. Don’t hurt her.
“Thanks for the coffee, cuz,” she murmurs, and slips out of the car. He watches as she climbs the steps, and unlocks the door. Waits until the light in her room comes on before he calls to his driver. “Take me home.”