Capturing Liberty: Devereux Brothers, #1

By D.G. Whiskey

"Careful, Liberty. I only have so much control."

Stephen Devereux has just moved to New York City and flexes the power of his wealth by saving model/waitress Liberty from a Wall Street asshole. 

Their whirlwind romance sweeps Liberty along but she refuses to give up her independence and goals as she fights to make it as a model. When a modeling gig goes wrong, Liberty has to fight for freedom and to be reunited with the man she's come to love.

Capturing Liberty is a novella exploring the Devereux family. The book is a standalone with no cliffhanger and a HEA. More about the Devereux brothers is revealed in the following novels of the series.

This book contains mature content such as sex and violence and is intended for adult readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.G. Whiskey
• Release date: Oct 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536528305

Book preview

1

B e a good girl and get us another round of scotch, will you doll?

The man’s voice was superior, patronizing, and he had a smug grin on his face. Either of those I could have put up with, but I drew the line when paired with his hand sliding down my back to squeeze my ass in the tight black dress all waitresses had to wear at Dorgo’s.

I slapped his hand away. Please don’t touch me.

The slack-jawed look on his face and low whistles from the other men at the table lit a fierce satisfaction within me. It didn’t last long.

Did you fucking hit my hand? He stood up from his chair. He wasn’t a tall man, but I wasn’t a tall woman and the flush in his face signaled that this was a man given to outbursts of anger.

You’ve been making inappropriate remarks and advances for the past several hours. They aren’t welcome, and I want you to stop.

His nostrils flared. He might have been handsome, but his actions over the course of my shift and his state of inebriation filled me with disgust and distaste.

I’m paying over fifty bucks a drink. If I want to put my hand on your ass, then I’ll put my hand on your ass, he said. He grabbed my arm and yanked me toward him, gripping my ass in his other hand so hard it hurt.

Get off me! I struggled against him, but he was too strong. It was hard to look around the bar with my motion restricted, and I saw none of the other servers. The group had snagged one of the more secluded tables in the classy Wall Street cocktail bar. Situations like this didn’t happen at Dorgo’s.

The man pulled me even harder against him. I’ll do whatever I want. Hell, if I wanted to take you home tonight then you’ll come with me, and like it.

Paul, let her go, man. The other men at the table looked uncomfortable, but weren’t in any hurry to get up from their seats and help me.

Don’t be such a fucking pussy, Grant. We own this town and we can do what we want. The aggressor turned back and stared at me. I want to teach her a lesson for being a frigid bitch.

Words stuck in my throat. I should have been screaming, or calling for help, or struggling with all my might, but shock paralyzed me and I watched the scene unfold like a big screen movie. Somehow I was detached from it all, unable to believe it was happening.

A hand reached past me to shove hard against Paul’s chest at the same time another wrapped around my waist to wrench me from his arms. Paul stumbled back a few paces and almost fell, catching himself on his chair at the last moment.

For the second time in as many minutes a male body held me tight, but the hand on me was gentle and he smelled nice. When I looked up, I saw a chiseled face and high cheekbones under a set of dark green eyes that stared at the man who’d been assaulting me.

Who the fuck do you think you are? Paul shouted, having regained his feet.

The man who shoved him looked down at me, his eyes softening from their deadly glare when our gazes met. Are you okay? he asked, ignoring the belligerent man a few paces away.

I’m not hurt, I said. Thank you.

He withdrew his arm once I’d regained my balance, leaving me to stand on my own. His chin jutted out as he turned back to Paul. Why the hell would you do that to a woman only talking to you because of her job and clearly wants nothing to do with you?

Paul took a step forward in what he must have intended to be a threatening gesture. My savior didn’t appear too concerned—he was taller and better built than the drunk asshole, and Paul had to focus to even put his feet forward in the right order.

I can do whatever I want here, Paul said. Do you know who I am? I fucking run this town, you piece of shit. I’m worth four hundred million dollars and run one of the biggest hedge funds on the planet. You’ll pay for laying a hand on me, you and that fucking bitch.

I shivered. The perk of working at Dorgo’s was all the rich bankers and hedge fund managers who came to talk shop and tipped well. The downside was coming into contact with megalomaniac jackasses who thought they could get away with anything because they were rich.

Problem was, they were right.

Other patrons of the bar had taken notice of the altercation—every table in the exclusive section of the bar featured all eyes toward the spectacle. I couldn’t blame them—I had seen nothing like it in the few months I’d worked there.

You’ll want to watch who you run your mouth off to. One of these days it’ll get you into trouble. It might even be today. The self-assured tone of the man at my side forced me to give him another look.

There wasn’t anything in particular that stood out about him other than his aristocratic features. His face could have been carved by a Roman sculptor. A well-tailored suit showed off his athletic form, but every man in the establishment wore similar clothing. His age wasn’t clear, but he couldn’t have been much older than twenty-five to Paul’s early forties.

Are you threatening me, boy? Paul asked. I can ruin you quicker than you could imagine. I have more powerful friends than you even know exist. You better get out of my sight and be happy I’m letting you off that easy.

I looked back toward the bar and caught John’s eyes. The supervisor also worked the bar during the week, and the flood of customers had died down enough for him to notice the tense atmosphere in our direction. I waved to get his attention and gestured to come over.

How much did you say you were worth again—four hundred million dollars? I’ll tell you what, here’s what we’ll do. The man at my side reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a deck of cards. How about we each cut the deck, and the person who loses has to pay the other four hundred million dollars.

Stunned silence met his words. Is he serious?

A tidal wave of whispers ran through the onlookers. John had reached the group just as the man proposed the wager, and his jaw dropped so low it looked like he had dislocated it.

Cut for four hundred million dollars? Paul’s face whitened. There’s no way you have that kind of money. What do you think I am, a fool? If I win you’ll just run away and I’ll never see a dime.

If you agree, then we’ll find a third party we both trust to escrow. With the number of wealthy bankers in this bar, it shouldn’t be difficult.

Paul stared at him. You can’t be serious.

The sound of shuffling cards was his only response. His opponent’s face was granite, giving nothing away.

Gears turned in Paul’s head, thoughts flitting behind his eyes. Greed, and fear. The chance to double