Beast: Dark Underworld, #1

By Sarwah Creed

Fairytales are a fantasy of the past. 
One blind date. 
One wrong move. 
I found out that he's broken. 
Tortured.
Just like me. 
I'm far from beauty and he's so much like the beast. 
He's an unwelcome distraction. 
I just want revenge for my tortured past. 
I try, but I can't keep away from him. 
I'm like a moth to a flame. 
A moth that's about to get way too close to the flame...

Author's Note: This has been previously published as the same title, under a different author name. There are no cliffhangers and it has a HEA. This full-length standalone dark romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sarwah Creed
• Release date: Feb 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386226284

Book preview

1

Kade slouched in the chair across from Sergeant Tackett in the bookstore’s coffee lounge as he waited for his new partner, Paul Sullivan. Sixteen minutes had passed and the guy was still a no-show. Kade didn’t do lateness. He shifted in his seat. This new partnership was a mistake.

Our best here in New York trained Paul, but we lost Smith when he tore his ACL playing basketball. We brought you on to help with this case to find out why a thief is targeting Westridge. If we can find out why, it may lead us to whom. Tackett’s leather chair squeaked as he leaned back. His ruby cheeks contrasted with his greying hair. He didn’t have a beer belly as some elder desk cops did. Your sergeant in Texas sent your endorsements. Said you were the best detective over there. I’m happy to have you working with us. Though, I was expecting someone different.

Kade scratched where his tattoo of mirrored flames licked the side of his neck, then remembered he forgot to take out his diamond stud earring. I get that a lot. What would the sergeant say about his old gang tattoo or other piercings? Never been much for suits or uniforms. Don’t see a purpose for them since I work undercover on most of my cases. He flicked a piece of lint off his jeans. How long has Paul been in training?

About eight months. The sergeant scratched his grey-speckled chin.

A rookie in Kade’s book. After graduation, Kade started as a street cop, moving up the ranks to detective in less than ten years. The sounds of steaming milk, people talking softly, and the ding of the register hummed in the background. Kade broke the staring match with Tackett and glanced at the bookshelves lining the square area of the lounge. A woman was on her cell phone, and by the way she twirled hair, she could be chatting with a love interest or spouse. A man juggled three plastic cups steaming with coffee and dodged a toddler running from her mother. Keeping with his style of investigator work, Kade suggested he and Tackett meet here at this bookstore slash coffee shop in Long Island, instead of the New York precinct.

Kade spotted a man in a pressed suit weaving through the maze of people and bookshelves. When he bypassed the growing coffee line and headed toward them, Kade knew this must be Paul.

A file tucked under his arm, his leather shoes squeaked across the vinyl floor as he hoisted a wooden chair from another table and sat it next to Kade.

Here he is now. Tackett’s waved a pale hand. Paul, meet Kade Hernandez, the contract police investigator we brought in to work with you. Kade, this is Paul Sullivan. He will be filling you in on the Westridge case.

Paul offered Kade a polite smile, though his narrowing eyes scrutinized him as if he was under interrogation. Truth was these New Yorkers didn’t know about his past. No one did.

Thankfully, it had been sealed.

Kade cocked back in the wooden chair, analyzing Paul. Typical inner city cop. Clean shaven, blond, blue eyes, in a pressed suit and an eagerness that oozed off him. Kade didn’t need another partner. Back in Texas, his previous associate had died in a high-speed chase. If Kade hadn’t lost control of the car, Sid would still be here, harassing him about his attitude. Without Sid, he’d prefer to be on his own, but if this is what it took for a new start and a permanent position as a detective rather than a fill-in, he’d put up with a beardless city-slicker.

Sergeant Tackett flipped through the file Paul handed him and huffed. Did you bring a copy of the Westridge case like I asked? I forgot mine on my desk this morning. Ah, there it is. He handed a stack of papers to Kade. Paul, the Westridge case is going nowhere. Last weekend, there was another robbery.

Another one? Why wasn’t I told? Paul inched to the edge of his seat. I had the president’s house under surveillance the whole time.

Kade leaned forward, his heel tapped against the chair’s leg. How much information did they have on the case that the public wasn’t aware of? Westridge Inc. was a billion-dollar company, and lately, professional thieves had targeted its board members—if the news he’d heard from his Captain in Houston was accurate.

Just found out about it an hour ago when they called my cell back at the office. I grabbed the wrong file on my way here because of it. Another board member and his wife were on vacation in Hawaii. Tackett waved his hand as if an invisible fly buzzed around his round head. They forgot to call us and let us know. I suppose they didn’t want to interfere with the head honcho’s surveillance.

Paul adjusted his tie. So why are we here instead of at the station? Paul pointed his chin in Kade’s direction. What’s going on?

Tackett stood and leaned against the back of the high back leather chair. The mismatched chairs around the coffee shop were supposed to add charm, Kade guessed, but it spoke volumes that the Sergeant picked the largest available chair and the tiny table in the back corner. The man reminded Kade of a trapped lion. We’re meeting here to keep anyone except us three from knowing he’s on this case. Kade’s from Houston. No one knows he’s a police detective and he comes highly recommended. His cover with Westridge is he’s a salesman. That’ll give him access to their office and files.

Probably because Kade’s old boss wanted him gone, especially after Sid’s death. Kade wasn’t surprised that he was recommended. Internal Affairs had called it an accident, but if he had done something differently, would his partner still be alive?

Kade will remain undercover. Consult with him about everything you know. Don’t tell Westridge he’s under investigation. Kade will partner with you for this case behind the scenes. I want to know why Westridge has been targeted and if he’s hiding anything.

Partner? Paul’s shoulders shot back and he paled even more. Was he worried Kade might take over this high profile case?

I expect you two to crack this. You’ll live, eat, and investigate together.

Kade didn’t know about Paul, but he wanted this assignment. If he solved it soon, it would resurrect his reputation. He needed this—a fresh start where no one knew his past or judged him for it.

I don’t need a partner or a roommate. Paul jumped to his feet, shaking his head. Two customers and a barista looked their way and Paul lowered his voice. You think I can’t handle the case on my own? That’s it, isn’t it? Man, the guy was needy.

Westridge wants results, but he feels sleazy to me. Kade came highly recommended from the Chief Detective in Texas and he’s bilingual. Speaks Spanish fluently—your dad, right?

When Kade nodded, the Sargent continued. It’s time we got new blood in here, anyway.

The Westridge robberies were a big deal, and when they were closed they’d be all over

the news. This case would seal lead detective status for him and Paul if they solved it.

But I promised to take my fiancée out to dinner tonight. Paul rubbed his neck. "How do

I explain a shadow trailing us?"

He’ll pose as your cousin. Don’t tell Westridge that Kade is one of us. I’m sure you can work with that.

Paul glanced over at Kade, a frown capturing his brow. What does that cover have anything to do with him following me around?

If you want to stay on such this high-profile case, you need to cooperate. The sergeant leaned forward, his chair scooting forward until it hit the table. And the sooner this thief is caught, the better.

"Have the precinct put him in a hotel room. He can still be my cousin without also rooming with me."

"There are no available hotels within seventy miles between the Jehovah Witness and the ComicCon Conventions this week and weekend. Besides, he needs to play the part of your cousin."

How long did Tackett expect Kade to live with this cocky suit? He wanted to prove his skills, not become somebody’s shadow.

It’s the perfect cover.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Paul and Kade poured over the details of the case. Kade admired Paul’s quick mind noticing nuances within the files.

Aside from the safe- Kade stood and stretched. -only these other items were stolen? A vase, gold coins, and a set of DVDs?

Paul glanced at his watch. That’s all they reported missing.

Strange. Kade knuckled his low back. These other objects aren’t worth as much as what was in the safe.

Thought about that too. The homes had more expensive items, so why didn’t the thief take those as well? Did he run out of time?

Kade lounged in the wooden chair. It was after lunch and the coffee shop crowd had dwindled to a few stragglers.

But with this last case- Kade shuffled through his papers and drew out the newest report. -the place was empty. They had plenty of time to take more; like the fancy paintings, gold coin and stamp collection, but why didn’t they?

Paul glanced at the wall clock. You’re right.

"I’m thinking this whole case is personal. Ya know? This thief has a grudge against the

Westridge group. An ex-employee?"

Paul flipped through the file again, his brow furrowed. "I’ll arrange a meeting for

Westridge and his board to come down to the station. You can observe from behind the mirror."

Working with Paul wasn’t going to be as bad as he supposed. The guy was knowledgeable even though he was strictly by the rules.

Growing up, Kade never liked rules, too many to remember. But his disregard for them led to a gang and disaster. A gang brother dead, his best friend shot, and Kade landed in juvie. He tried not to break the rules, but if he had that night of the chase, he might have saved Sid.

2

Crystal shimmied down the drainpipe with her trophies tucked inside her backpack and computer files loaded onto her USB, hung around her neck disguised as a locket. This was too easy. Not like the Warren job where the COO kept changing the menu and supervised their catering to ensure they had followed the strict rules of kashrut.

She landed on the concrete with a thump, then removed her mask. Usually she worked at night when the catering gig didn’t provide the necessary cover, but she had a date this evening.

A blind date.

Her sister’s fiancée had called earlier that day to let them know his cousin from Texas would join them for dinner and would Crystal come along? As far as Crystal was concerned, it was the closest thing she’d come to as a real date in a long time. She’d take it.

Thankfully, her catering appointment with Westridge canceled yesterday. While she enjoyed cooking, it was only a cover for her and her sister’s illegal activities. What she excelled at was computers, but having a career in that field, now, would be too suspicious. Her IT skills far exceeded a Level One Help Desk worker. She despised working for Westridge, the man who had her mother killed and her dad thrown into jail, but catering was the easiest way into her target’s homes without suspicion. And she refused to pose as a cleaning lady and scrub their filth.

Years ago, Dad found what he thought was a series of accounting errors. For his honesty trying to help Westridge correct the problem, he was thrown in jail to rot. Westridge and his company framed her dad for embezzlement and sharing confidential information with preferred suppliers to obtain favors. Now she and her sister were halfway toward exonerating him and exposing Westridge and his corporate crimes. To see the look on Joshua Westridge’s face when he was convicted would make all her and her sister’s sacrifices worth it.

Thunder boomed as she weaved through alleys, stinking of rotting food and urine. She barely made it to her car before thunder rumbled.

Crystal checked the time on the dashboard, almost seven. No time to waste. Paul and his cousin, Kade, were picking up her and her sister at seven-thirty. Her car hummed to life as she stashed her backpack behind her seat. The stolen cash, including a recently purchased blood diamond necklace, lay inside. Hopefully the money and necklace would throw off Westridge’s Sales Manager to the fact that computer information had been the real prize. And hopefully, they wouldn’t discover the truth until it was too late. For now, another piece of the puzzle to exonerate their dad and lock Westridge away lay on her chest inside her locket.

She whipped into traffic and hit the wipers as fat drops of rain slapped against the windshield. Great. Ahead, a red light flickered as taxis and cars lined up behind it. She debated taking Ninth, but decided against it. Construction was still ongoing and traffic would be worse than this.

Maybe squeezing in a job before dinner wasn’t such a great idea.

* * *

Kade waited in a ’79 Cougar for the storm to calm while Paul rounded up the sisters. When Paul offered him a ride, he took him up on it. Storm clouds rolled in the distance and Kade hated riding his motorcycle in the rain. He could let the storm pass before driving, as he normally did, but he’d rather eat dinner sooner than wait out a storm. Besides, tomorrow he needed to drop off his bike at the shop for some minor repairs and to replace the exhaust. The drive from Texas to New York had been amazing, but the miles on his bike took their toll, making a trip to the auto shop necessary.

He and Paul arrived early and parked across the street from the girls’ small two-story house. His new partner invited him to come inside and wait, but he declined. It was bad enough to tag along; besides, he wanted review the file again.

He hoped the solitude of the rain beating upon the car would drum some pattern from the case into his head.

Two burglaries occurred less than a week of each other. It had to be the same criminal. Both victims had valuables stolen from their safe as well as one sentimental item. And both were members of Westridge’s Board of Directors.

Hearing the rain shift to a dawdling rhythm, Kade glanced around. Crystal and Ruby’s house stood on the corner. Ivy crept up the sides and stretched past the second floor. What was taking them so long? He should have gone in with Paul. If he wasn’t famished and without his bike, he’d be eating while he worked instead of forced into this double-date situation. Blind dates never ended well, at least not for him.

He thrust Paul’s keys in his pocket, fumbled with the papers, and stuffed them in the glove box. A gun nearly fell out when he opened it. Oh, Paul’s gun. That’s right, his girlfriend, Ruby, didn’t allow guns inside.

A figure in black dashed to the side of the house. It vanished into the shadows.

Kade’s heart raced. Was that Paul? Not tall enough to be him.

He jumped out of the car and slipped his gun out from his boot. Who was skulking around in the rain? He’d snuck around with Manuel when they were in a gang long enough to know the difference between prowling and running through the rain.

The sky darkened from the storm. With his foot, he slammed the car door shut.

The rain soaked him. His white shirt stuck to him like plaster.

He jogged around to the side of the house, straining to see through the darkness. Mud splattered beneath his shoes, each step sucked back into mud. Damn rain. His pulse thumped beneath his skin as he pushed forward. His gun raised, he rounded the corner.

Nothing.

With his weapon ready, he edged out from the corner. Empty. When lightning flashed, he spotted muddy footsteps and followed them to the back door.

He wiped the rain off his face with his hand.

A glance at the jam showed no forced entry. At least it was closed. He scanned the yard.

Maybe they tried to get in but bolted when they heard him coming?

The figure may have hopped the fence. Kade climbed the wooden fence.

No one. Whoever it was maybe had taken a shortcut to their house. Or they were a robber, or worse, and snuck into Paul’s fiancée’s house? Paul was inside, but left his gun in the car.

The pit of his stomach rose into his throat. He knew better than to ignore his instincts since they had saved him more times than he remembered. They told him this was no teenager playing a prank on a cop. His gut told him the shadow went inside, somehow.

When he slipped in the mud, he cursed, but held onto his gun. Water sloshed up his jeans as he rose to his feet.

Kade dashed around the other side of the house. He should have asked for a radio, then he could call Paul. But he didn’t even have his new partner’s cell number.

He had to ensure the intruder didn’t go inside Ruby’s house. He hurried to the front door.

Locked.

Paul, Ruby, open up. He pounded on the door. If someone had snuck in, they’d hear him outside. To keep his cover, he tucked the gun back away inside his boot.

The lock clicked open. Before him stood a tall lithe woman with reddish hair. She held a pair of silver high heels in her hand.

Paul came up behind her trailing his hand down her arm.

Must be Ruby.

Wha—

Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Kade... Paul’s cousin. His clothes were drenched from the rain. You’ve a lovely home. Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d offer him a tour without him having to ask. Then he could check for a trespasser.

Thank you. Come in. She turned away and strolled toward the living room.

Kade snatched Paul’s sleeve and whispered, I saw someone outside. They may have come in through the back.

Kade’s gaze swept the foyer, then living room. The back door stood ajar. Paul motioned he would take the left, and as they stepped into the kitchen, he grabbed a knife.

What are you two doing? Ruby chased after them.

Paul motioned for her to be quiet, and she threw her hands up. "You’re not tracking mud

across my floor. I just mopped the kitchen."

Kade’s shoes smacked of mud and cleaner, sticking. He removed his shoes and placed them on the ceramic tile near a cabinet. Why is the door open? Ruby’s eyes widened.

He didn’t wait for a response as he checked the laundry room, then strode to the stairs.

His socks met moisture on the carpeted stairs. Like someone drenched had gone up.

On the stair railing, he paused. Reaching down, he brushed his free hand across the stair above him.

It wasn’t in his imagination. The carpet was wet.

Drawing his gun, he took the stairs two at a time.

Upstairs, he burst into a bedroom, the door banging against the wall. A mahogany dresser filled the room. Bottles of perfume and make-up scattered across the top. The bed covers bundled together as if someone had emerged from a cocoon. Shoes littered the floor so he kicked them aside as he made his way to the closet.

He yanked it open and a mound filled with hats, shoes, and clothes tumbled over him.

Ruby yelled behind him to stop.

An army might hide in here, if they were small enough.

Satisfied, he spun on his heel and left the bedroom. His hip bumped the dresser, and he cringed when glass shattered and the smell of jasmine filled the air. He’d pay for the damages.

For now, they had to make sure no one had gotten in.

In the hallway, Kade stopped. Find anything? he asked Paul.

His partner shook his head, but he still had the knife gripped in his hand. Wait here. He told Ruby, but she was too busy fuming about a broken bottle of perfume to notice.

Kade had seen someone snooping around her house. He didn’t imagine it.

Ruby’s sister, Crystal, lived here as well. A shadow passed underneath the other bedroom, which he assumed was Crystal’s.

He knocked on the door, but there was no response. Giving a nod to Paul, he busted through the door.

Inside the bedroom, a woman with blonde hair stood wrapped in a towel.

She screamed. Trails of water dripped down her shoulders and chest from her wet hair.

Are you all right? Kade asked and lowered the gun. Is anyone in here with you?

She withdrew and bumped into her mahogany dresser, her towel slipping enough for him to catch a glimpse of her breasts. What did the rest of her look like naked?

A ceramic vase with fake daffodils spilling out of the top wobbled and vibrated against a bottle of perfume. If anything else had been on the dresser, it might have fallen over.

When she stared at the gun, he cleared his throat.

Sorry, I-I thought I saw a burglar sneak into your house.

Paul charged in and Kade handed him the gun. Maybe they’d believe it was Paul’s.

Sorry, I took this out of your glove box. Guess I panicked when I—

Ruby flew into the room her face red. What are you doing in my sister’s room?