Falling: The Complete Trilogy

By Caelia Sky

Like a shooting star, the man calling himself Nero appeared from out of nowhere.

From the moment he stepped into rookie cop, Sasha Calvillo’s life, he captivated her, and like a torrent, pulled her in and refused to let go. His edginess and complete disregard for the rules, as well as his near arrogant levels of certainty, intrigued her.  His lifestyle went against everything she believed in, and it irked her. This man was in complete control.

He saved rookie cop Sasha Calvillo’s life, and then, just like he came, he vanished, shrouded in mystery.

When she ran into him again due to freak occurrence, she became attached to him.

He warned her that she shouldn’t get involved with him. He told her that his life was dangerous, and that nothing good could come from her curiosities. But she couldn’t pull away.

Sasha was determined to know this man’s secrets; once Nero saw her resolve, he was willing to show them to her.

All of them.

Trilogy contains:

Seduced

Distressed

Fallen

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caelia Sky
• Release date: Jun 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513056487

Book preview

Falling

Caelia Sky

Copyright Text © Caelia Sky 2015

All Rights Reserved

Table of Contents

Seduced

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Distressed

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Fallen

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Seduced

Chapter One

Great. Just great.

My eyes wander to the three men surrounding me, vicious intent emanating from their bestial gazes. They’d just found their prey.

You just had to take that alleyway didn’t you Sasha? Sure, it saves time, or, at least it’s supposed to, but any time I would have saved by taking this route is now long lost.

The men around me grin, the gold tooth of one of them glittering inside of their mouth and giving their breath a foul stench. Has this person heard of hygiene? Another man, a baldy, wears a dirty leather jacket with baggy blue jeans. In his right hand is a pair of brass knuckles, and from the facial expression coming from his ugly mug, he’s just looking for an excuse to use it.

Another thug behind me talks in a non-intimidating voice, but that is easily offset by the sharp knife he holds in his hand. He holds the knife in an underhand method, passing the knife from hand to hand, his ghostly white t-shirt making it easy to see the knife moving back and forth. He may not sound the part, but he knows how to use that weapon. I’d better not test him.

The final guy, who I assume is the leader of the group of misfits, wears a baggy, red hooded jacket, and holds his hands in his pocket as if he has the situation completely under his control, which he does. A deep scar runs across the side of his lip, and his eyes tell me exactly what he wants.

Listen up, he says in a cold, authoritative voice, much different from that of his laughable partner. You’re going to empty out your pockets, and then your purse, and then... he eyes me up and down like a vulture looming over a carcass, you will come with us. He nods his head, gesturing towards his buddy, the one with the knife. If you’re a good girl, maybe my friend won’t gut you. A wicked grin. Or, maybe you’d prefer the cold steel of brass knuckles crashing against the side of your skull? I’ll let you decide.

A bluff. Or, at least I hope it is. He’s probably just trying to get me to comply by talking a big game. We may be in an alleyway, but I’m not so far off the beaten path that no one would hear me if I were to call for help.

But...that’s not a chance I’m willing to take.

These men have no idea who they’re dealing with. It’s not wise to try and rob an officer of the law. Unfortunately, I’m not in uniform, and happen to be unarmed.

It’s my day off, but I was supposed to be heading to the prescient to celebrate my father’s birthday. He’s the chief of police, so getting permission wasn’t hard. I’d been looking forward to this day, and had planned out the perfect gift for him, which I now hold in my hand.

A Rolex watch, personally tailored to fit him perfectly. I could see the goon eying it like a rabid hyena. But I wasn’t about to give it up, not without a fight.

I’m not afraid of these punks. Being trained in the art of Muay Thai, I’m very capable of handling my own. But I realize these men can hurt me if I’m not careful, and I’m aware that I’m far from invincible, but...I can’t give up this present.

I could always buy another watch, but it isn’t necessarily the watch that’s important, it’s the effort it took me to acquire it. This is a tailored watch, and one that my dad has wanted for a long time. If I lose it to these idiots, I don’t think I can face my father.

Can’t we talk about this? I ask, trying to look for a moment of hesitation or weakness in the men. If one of them loses focus, I may be able to slip by. From the pot belly of the bald man and the smoker’s breath emanating from the cracked lips of the other two, I have no doubt I can outrun them.

There’s nothing to talk about, says the hooded man in a snicker. Give us what we ask for. It’s that simple.

I take a step back. Why are you doing this?

I can hear footsteps from behind me. The man in the white t-shirt is closing in on me, and I can only watch in frustration as my opportunity for escape dwindles.

He puts the blade against my neck. I can feel the pointed edge of the cold solid steel digging into my skin, drawing a light amount of blood. I wince and clench my hands.

I won’t ask you again, says the leader, the agitation in his voice rising. His words are no bluff.

I curse my bad decision making skills, and my eyes lower to the blade against my throat, ready to make a fountain of blood, with my flesh as the source.

Ok, I say. The present was important, but if my father lost me because of this, I don’t think he would be able to recover.

I hand the man the box, my hands sticking to the wrapping like glue, reluctant to just let everything I had worked for to get this be for nothing.

He tears it open, indifferent to the amount of care I put into wrapping the box. He throws the wrapping to the ground, removes the lid, and takes out the watch, holding it to the air and examining it like a fine gem.

Not bad, he says. I can fetch a small fortune for this. He stuffs it in his pockets and looks back to me, his greedy pupils looking to my waist. Now, empty your purse and then your pockets.

I’m willing to buy the watch back from you, I say. Doing so would put me in a financially hard position, but I wanted my father to have that watch. If I’m lucky, maybe this man wouldn’t know how much the watch truly cost.

He snickers. You don’t get how this works do you? I’m taking everything. You have no claim to anything I decide to take from you. Now hurry up before I have my friend cut you up and search you himself."

With haste, I unzip my purse and pour all of the contents out; credit cards, debit cards, chapstick, my cell phone, and a few bills and coins fall onto the ground, along with my lipstick holder and a hand mirror.

That’s it? asks the knife wielding man, in his laughably soft voice.

That’s it, I say.

Let’s bash this bitch’s head in and take the stuff, says the baldy. We can use her cards longer.

If we did that, says the leader, I wouldn’t get to fuck her. And I don’t fuck corpses.

My eyes narrow and I clench my fist. I want to lash out at this man and punch him in the throat. He can take my stuff, but he isn’t touching me. If he even tries, I’ll stomp them, crush them, and rip them off if I have to.

These men were dead serious, and I had no way of calling for back up. I’d never been in a situation quite like this before, but I could feel the fear and anger starting to sink into my core. I didn’t want these men touching me.

Come with us, says the leader, putting his grimy hands on my cheeks.

I spit in his face, catching him in the eye.

He yells out in agony and bends over as my saliva stings his eyes. I use the opportunity to kick him in the face.

He grunts and loses his balance as my foot crashes into his face, but he doesn’t fall. Instead he merely stumbles back. This man is tougher than I thought.

You bitch, says the man in the t-shirt. I’ll kill you for this.

Wait, says the leader, a grim smile on his face. Knock her out and bring the car around back. I’m going to have some fun with this bitch.

Could you scum keep it down, says a voice coming from behind me. I’m trying to sleep.

Everyone’s attention turns to the owner of the voice. A tall man with combed back, jet black hair. His dashing appearance makes for a nice change of pace from the ugly men apprehending me.

Cocoa leather jacket, athletic build, broad shoulders, perfect fit jeans, a defined square jaw line, perfect facial dimensions; yeah, I can’t see myself getting tired of looking at him.

But what is he doing out here? He does realize where he is right?

You can sleep as much as you want after I’ve stuck you in your fucking chest, says the man in the t-shirt, walking up to the mystery man.

You’re in my way, says the man, throwing the thug out of the way, who drops his knife and face plants against the wall, falling to the ground limp and motionless.

My eyelids open with shock as my mind tries to process the logical impossibility it just witnessed. This stranger just threw a man aside with a simple brushing motion? Is that even possible?

What the hell do you think you’re doing? asks baldy.

I told you, you’re making too much noise, so I’m going to get rid of the source.

Get rid of, says baldy, his grip strengthening on his brass knuckles. Who the hell do you think you are?

Someone who now holds your life in their hands, responds the man in a calm, serious manner, a wicked smile on his face. You should show me some respect.

Get out of here pretty boy, this doesn’t concern you.

Feeling insulted, the enigma glares at the bald man, sending him into a temporary paralysis.

He walks up to the bald man and looks him in the eye. Pretty boy? He punches the man in the throat.

The bald man clutches his neck and wheezes for air, falling over to the ground, his eyes wandering and his facial muscles twitching and convulsing while his legs kick the empty air.

The leader, understanding the meaning of fear, takes a step back, and then reaches under his coat.

Think well before you pull that on me, says the closest thing I have to help. If you make the wrong choice, it won’t end well for you. He looks to the leader and grins. Well, it won’t end well for you either way, but you can still decide if you want to live.

I’m speechless. I don’t know whether to arrest this man, or stay out of his way. He is saving me right?

Ignoring the warning, the leader pulls out a gun, but before he can point it at the object of his fears, the mystery man casually kicks the bald man towards the thug, as if it requires no effort.

The bald man, unconscious or worse, flies off of the ground and crashes into the leader. They both tumble to the ground.

My savior walks up to the leader and turns him on his stomach, kneeling over him and taking his left arm. One, be glad I’m feeling generous tonight, because killing you would be easy. He breaks the man’s arm with a loud crunching snap. The man cries out in pain, his body trying to struggle free, but to no avail. Two, I warned you what would happen if you pull a gun on me. He breaks the man’s other arm. The man cries with noises that sound like pleas and whimpers, and I can’t help but smile at his misfortune. Where’s that toughness now? Three, don’t ever let me catch you around my turf again. He takes the man’s head, and slams it into the ground, knocking him unconscious.

Chapter Two

You don’t think you may have overdone it just a little? I ask.

He looks to me and smirks arrogantly. It doesn’t hurt to say thanks.

I bend down and pick up the contents of my purse. I had everything under control.

Oh, so you mean those three mean weren’t going to rape and kill you? He speaks without any sympathy, like he is simply stating the facts. His tone pisses me off.

This city doesn’t need vigilantes.

He laughs, as if he found something amusing with my comment. Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t saving you. You just happened to be here. I would have dealt with those three anyway, so you don’t need to pat yourself on the back.

You know I can arrest you for this, I say, smirking.

He walks up to me, and looks into my eyes with a calm, unconcerned gaze. Can you?

His eyes were filled with arrogance, with certainty, as if he knew I would do no such thing, as if everything would move as he planned; a look of absolute certainty. My being a police officer meant nothing to him. It scared me, but also infatuated me. Who was this man?

Going to hurt me like you hurt those men?

He laughs. I try not to hurt women.

Try? I ask.

When I can help it.

I smile nervously. I see.

If you’re worried, you shouldn’t be. I have no reason to harm you.

Even though I might arrest you?

You won’t arrest me. Again, he speaks with certainty. Much to my frustration, he’s right.

Listen, I say, searching the coat of the downed leader. Thank you for saving me.

I told you, I wasn’t saving you.

You don’t have to act tough around me. I take my father’s watch out the fallen man’s coat pocket and examine it. A smile forms across me as my core fills with relief. The box may have been ruined, but the watch was in perfect condition. But either way, I’m thankful.

He looks to me, his eyes piercing mine. There’s no malice or ill intent in his stare. He then looks away from me in silence.

Can I have your name? I ask.

Why?

I’d like to know the name of the person who saved me.

"Want to look me up in your database to