Savage Charm

By Nadirah Foxx

A wayward daughter. An irascible man. A vengeful act.

Dash Copeland assumes heading up the security team for a disreputable billionaire is a perfect position. Then he meets Peyton Daniels—a woman full of passion who doesn't know how to behave. But she's the boss's daughter!

To save his sanity and his neck, Dash disappears. When Peyton suddenly goes missing, the former soldier must cast aside his anger issues and handle the matter with a delicate hand.

Can he save the only woman he's ever loved? Or will one misstep allow the enemy to achieve a twisted agenda?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Avanturine Press
• Release date: Dec 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9798223011620

Book preview

1

How It Began

Peyton

His angry voice boomed and tumbled through the slightly open office door as he interrogated the security team. No one flinched or blinked as the accusation flew.

Which one of you jackasses is fucking my daughter?

As my father paced, beatitudes continued to flow from his lips. An unaware bystander would assume that I was his innocent pride and joy. Sadly, the men in that room knew the truth. I was far from innocent and definitely not my father’s treasure.

On any given day, Aldrich Jackson Daniels barely acknowledged his only living heir. It wasn’t always that way between Father and me, but when those bastards killed Mom and my baby brother, Father stopped loving everyone, including me. Grief became animosity, and his heart turned cold. There was nothing I could do to thaw it either. I tried. Lord knew I tried.

At that moment, it wasn’t the past irking Father. He had one simple rule for every employee—don’t touch me. The warning wasn’t given with love. Oh no! The man wanted me as pure as possible. My long-gone virginity was used as a bargaining chip to bend competitors to his will. Only the idiots, however, believed I was pure. That morning’s meeting was about an employee having the unmitigated gall to screw me. After all, that was a job belonging to Father’s highest bidder.

Doing shit to piss him off was the only way Father noticed me, and I never hesitated to give him reason to. If I didn’t get off on fucking the staff, the security team wouldn’t be lined up before a firing squad of one.

Some people might say that I did whatever the fuck I wanted in an effort to get Daddy Dearest’s attention.

Not hardly.

Others might surmise that it was a reaction to being rejected by a parent.

Possibility.

If anyone bothered to ask me, I would have gladly told them it was a shoddy attempt to catch the eye of a certain man.

But none of it mattered. Nothing ever mattered to me anymore—all because of the dance recital turned tragic. I screwed up that day. If it hadn’t been for my needs, Mom and Jackie would have lived. At least that was what Father told me every chance he got.

He was the wealthiest, biggest asshole in the world. As his daughter, I witnessed his shady dealings with nefarious characters. I watched the man with a dark heart carry out business mergers with ease. He smiled for the ever-present camera better than any Hollywood celebrity. The public thought he was a generous man who deserved their pity. After all, he raised his only remaining child without the benefit of a wife.

If they only knew…

Aldrich Jackson Daniels was a man who thought nothing of exterminating anyone who didn’t capitulate to his will. At that moment, I was certain that sentiment included the men he questioned.

I have proof that one of you assholes is fucking her, Father yelled. Make it easier on yourself and tell me who it is.

I stifled a laugh. I was tempted to storm into the room and tell him, Your trusted head of security is the one you want. But I’d never give up Dash, not like that. I had enjoyed the few times we’d been together. I didn’t rat on someone I liked.

Staring beyond the gaping door, I watched the man. Nonplussed by Father’s tirade, the former Marine stood rigid with his hands clasped behind his back and his haunting silver-blue eyes pointed forward. He was a handsome statue—loyal to a fault and fucking perfect in bed. Better men had tried to break him, including his own parent. My father didn’t even rank among the best of men.

A loud bang made me jump. Father slammed the desk again with his palm, thinking that a show of force would encourage the culprit. He was a goddamned idiot. Didn’t he realize that he chose that team for their lack of fear and unscrupulous behavior? Not one of those men would hesitate to kill my father and dispose of his remains like the previous night’s garbage. Did he really think they’d turn on each other?

I can run a DNA test on the condom, Father warned.

Two of the men—individuals I’d allowed to fuck me after a night of too much tequila—began sweating. Stupid bastards. If Father had a condom, it sure didn’t come from them. Our late-night tryst happened in the pool house a month ago. I had no intention of going down that road again. Neither man could deliver a proper fuck. Might have had something to do with the one fact about them I somehow missed—they were better suited to each other than a woman.

Someone cleared his throat.

Might I suggest a look at the security cameras, Dash said, not making eye contact with his employer.

Father cocked his head to one side. I’ll put you in charge of this investigation. Get me an answer in twenty-four hours.

Not flinching, Dash added, If you’ll give me the proof, I’ll run it to the lab.

Father opened a desk drawer and removed a plastic bag. Dash took the disgusting evidence, slipping it into his pocket.

That was just nasty.

Get the fuck out! Father yelled. Then he blurted, Copeland, a word.

I quickly moved farther down the hall and put my cell phone up to my ear. The men glanced at me as they filed out, but nobody bothered to speak. I waited until they’d cleared the area before returning to the door.

Do I need to remind you what happens to any man fucking Peyton? Father said.

A hint of a smile ghosted on Dash’s face. Are you implying something?

No implication. Just know that I won’t hesitate to annihilate your ass if you touch her.

I’d expect no less, but sir, you confuse me with someone who has a death wish. There’s nothing your daughter can do for me.

Oh, but there was plenty I had done. Could do again if given the chance.

Father bobbed his head. Glad you understand. Peyton needs a man closer to her age. Of course Peyton doesn’t see that, but I have her best interests at heart.

What a lie!

Of course you do, sir.

You think I’m wrong?

No, sir. Maybe if Peyton was in college she’d be less of a temptation to the rest of the staff.

That was a joke. Dash knew I hated school. Frankly, I saw no purpose in wasting a spot someone else should have. Everyone who knew Aldrich Daniels knew that he’d arrange a convenient marriage for me before allowing me a real education. Undoubtedly, it would be a pact allowing him access to a company or some branch of government. Father only did what benefited him.

A waste of money and time. Peyton’s not smart enough for the Ivy League. Hell, she’s barely bright enough for a community school.

Damn! There was nothing worse than being deprecated by one’s parent.

Dash chuckled. I’ll get started with this investigation right away.

See that you do, Copeland. See that you do.

The door swung wide before I could move. Dash took one look at me and stalked down the hall. I took a step forward and then…

Peyton, come in here, Father announced. You’ve been lingering by the door the whole damn time.

There were days when I swore the man had a tracker implanted somewhere on me. I dragged my feet into his office. As soon as I crossed the threshold, I studied the man. My father—hair so black it matched his dark soul, clean-shaven to appear wholesome, designer tailored suit for bragging rights—sat behind his oversized oak desk. Everything in the room was a testament to the image he wanted the outside world to have. If people knew the real man, they would have had him arrested for impersonating a decent human being.

Yes, Father?

He pointed to a chair. How many times have I told you to leave the help alone?

Why—

Don’t lie to me. Father glanced up as he shuffled a pile of papers on his desk. Housekeeping found the evidence. Tell me who you invited into your room this time.

How do you know it wasn’t the staff?

It wasn’t a far-fetched possibility. There were members of our household who made sure their asses dusted every available surface. It was their way of sticking it to their boss. Father didn’t give raises but once every few years, and he thought nothing of docking pay for supposed offenses—a poorly cooked meal, misplaced paperwork, poorly chilled wine at dinner. Aldrich Daniels was as close to a tyrant—I take that back. He’s a tyrant, hands down.

Did you hear me? Father stared at me.

I shook off my wandering thoughts. It’s obvious that somebody lied to you. Is that all you wanted?

No. He closed a folder. There will be a formal dinner at six. I need you there.

Pushing to my feet, I said, I have plans.

A shadow crossed Father’s face. Change them. You will be there. An appropriate garment and shoes have been delivered to your room.

Why?

Ignoring me, he said, Your dinner companion is Richard Stanworth.

That name sounds familiar.

It should. His father is Charles Stanworth, CEO of Stanworth Industries. When I failed to give a sign of recognition, Father continued, Just goes to show that you don’t understand your worth. Nothing like your mother.

It wasn’t often that Father mentioned her, but when he did, it was always to remind me that I didn’t measure up. Apparently, the only thing I inherited from Mom was her dark brown, wavy hair and chocolate eyes. Frankly, I was thankful not to look like Aldrich. Don’t get me wrong. Years ago, I loved him. Called him Daddy. But that all changed when I lost Mom and Jackie. The only evidence they existed was kept in my room. Father removed every picture and memento left in plain sight.

Back to the matter at hand…

Why should I be interested in Stanworth Industries? I asked.

My interest is their research labs. They have properties overseas that could help me.

And there was the bottom line. Welcome to the Aldrich Daniels Channel—all news fitting to benefit him and him alone. Father entrusted me with one piece of information—stuck it in a tattoo on my lower back—but never told me what it contained. It was the only ink I was allowed.

Sorry, I can’t—

Fail to show up and indulging in your nasty habits will become difficult, he warned.

Oh, so he knew about the drugs and alcohol. A girl had to have a way to endure living under his roof. I forced a smile onto my face. Don’t worry. I’ll be there with bells on.

Just wear the damn dress. You’re dismissed. He focused on the papers.

No thank you needed. He treated me no better than the various employees who had the misfortune to call Aldrich Daniels boss. And then he wondered why I stayed high.

On the way to my room, my phone buzzed. I peered down at the screen and smiled. It took him long enough to contact me.

Dash: We have to talk.

Quickly, I sent off my reply.

Peyton: Whatever for? You already told Father that I could do nothing for you.

Dash: It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.

Peyton: You sure about that? I could meet you at the guest house in ten minutes.

Dash: I said no.

Peyton: I say let’s talk about it. You can drive me into town. I have a dinner party to get ready for. I’ll even keep my hands to myself.

Dash: I’ll arrange for someone else to take you.

Peyton: Meet me in the garage.

The reply was slow in coming—much like those bodyguards last month. I tapped my finger against the screen, tempted to send off another message.

Dash: Five minutes. Try anything, and I’ll turn the fucking car around.

Peyton: I’ll be there.

2

At Odds

Dash

Ihad enough shit on my plate without adding an entanglement with Peyton. My boss wasn’t stupid by any means. Grilling me was an attempt at a confession—mine. Getting between Peyton’s thighs again wasn’t worth losing my goddamned balls.

Keep telling yourself that one.

Truth of the matter, I’d fucking lose all that I had for another time with her. We shared a connection of some sort. It might have been the simple fact that Peyton Daniels was broken beyond repair. Every day I woke up I told myself to stop, but I couldn’t. The woman occupied a space in my head—and my heart—no matter how much I didn’t want her to.

Peyton had more issues than I did, but it didn’t matter to me. She’d never admit to any of them. She couldn’t. That jackass who called himself her father would never let her acknowledge any frailty. Weakness wasn’t a flaw in the eyes of my boss. It was a detrimental failing that required prompt extermination. Didn’t matter if the problem was with his own family.

The first time I saw Peyton was five years ago when she was a precocious sixteen-year-old. I was new on staff, but I could see the promise of good things to come in that skinny kid.

Even back then, she worked hard trying to get one of us into her bedroom. I wasn’t head of security, but I warned my fellow staffers that sixteen would get us twenty—years in prison, that was. I was twenty-two and wasn’t looking to serve time for raping someone. It wasn’t like Peyton would have claimed assault. On the contrary. That girl was so hot she would have tried to fuck the cop filing the report. Any charges, however, would have been filed by her father.

The man wasn’t a parent to Peyton. Aldrich Daniels probably had to look up her birth certificate daily to make sure the title belonged to him. Hell, he couldn’t even be considered a caretaker. My boss was simply biding his time. Waiting for the day he could pawn Peyton off on some unsuspecting male to finish a business deal.

Until last year, I was doing good. I’d kept my temper in check, for the most part, and my eyes off of Peyton. Then shit changed. I gave in to lust as the fragments of my father’s fucked-up genes appeared on my psychological radar. Just little blips at first, but then they morphed into full-on targets requiring a missile assault. All my life I’d dealt with my short fuse, but that wasn’t the issue. It was as if there was a missing link in my mental wiring.

I went from broody to downright furious in a flash, ready to beat the shit out of anyone who crossed my path. And when I wasn’t looking for a fight or depressed as fuck, my eyes were trained on the lovely Miss Daniels. I started doing dumb shit. Taking chances that I shouldn’t.

Fucking a girl I shouldn’t.

Nobody said anything to me except Ma. She was finally clean and noticed the drastic changes in me. When she urged me to go to a doctor, I shocked the hell out of her and listened. The doctor wanted me to start therapy, and she prescribed mood stabilizers. I refused both. Thanks to my mother putting shit up her nose, I wanted nothing to do with drugs. I didn’t even take an aspirin. I sure as hell wasn’t sitting on some freak’s couch, trying to dissect my brain. I’d fight the battle in my own way.

Inserting the key in the ignition, I cranked the motor of the oversized black SUV. The dashboard clock lit up and let me know I’d been waiting five fucking minutes. If Peyton didn’t show up in the next thirty seconds, I was leaving without her. Since I wasn’t on duty that night, I planned on going to Secaucus and looking in on Ma. It was something I tried to do once a month.

The passenger door popped open, and Peyton slid her fine ass across the seat. Were you leaving without me?

I reached over my head, pressed the button located on the visor, and one of the six garage doors opened. As I waited for it to raise completely, I faced my companion. Peyton’s beauty was intoxicating. It soothed my wounded soul like nothing else could. Her slightly tanned skin was flawless and that body… Those curves were more than a match for any man. And those ruby red lips…

Dash?

Fuck! I was drooling over her like a schoolboy. Quickly, I averted my eyes. Where do you need me to drop you?

Her eyes narrowed. You’re dropping me off? I thought we would—

We can’t, not anymore. Your father is suspicious.

I don’t give a fuck! He can’t prove anything.

She was right about that. Someone at the lab owed me a favor. They’d create a fake DNA report, exonerating me.

Whether or not he can prove anything doesn’t matter. My job does. It wasn’t easy to come by, and I’d rather not lose it. Nobody else would give me another gig like that one. When you speak with your fists, people shy away from hiring you. If your father—

Does anything he can deal with me.

I chuckled. She was cute when she was angry, nothing like her damn father. That man made a mob boss look like a fucking Boy Scout.

You said you have a dinner tonight. Hair and nails? The usual place?

It was part of her regular routine. Daniels expected his daughter to get buffed and fluffed like a goddamned poodle just to entertain business prospects. What an asshole! If I weren’t worried about his retribution, I’d run off with Peyton. Take her far away from that place. I had money saved—maybe not the amount she was used to—but it would let us live decently.

Yeah, I was that into her.

Peyton poked out her bottom lip, crossed her arms over her amazing tits—ones that peeked out of her low-cut top—and leaned back. Why are you being so mean to me?

Was she fucking kidding me?

There were times when she acted like a child. Probably a side-effect of her neglectful father.

I dragged a hand through my hair and exhaled. It’s not all about you, Peyton.

Actually, she was the problem. We’d had a few amazing nights together, and I craved her like a fucking drug. Even at that moment, I thought about burying my dick into her sweet pussy.

But then, she gave me that wide-eyed, watery stare. I completely lost it and snapped. I can’t lose my goddamned job! All right?

Peyton didn’t flinch—being Aldrich Daniels’ kid taught her not to show weakness. Instead, she turned her attention to the space outside of the garage. You know what? I don’t think I need to go anywhere after all. Thanks for nothing. She opened the door and slipped out. The hint of sadness in her voice let me know I screwed up.

Fuck! Just like a car revving from zero to sixty, I went from frustration to guilt. I couldn’t blame my rapid mood change on Peyton. It was symptomatic of the shit lodged in my brain. Something is seriously wrong with me. I floored the accelerator, gave the vehicle too much gas, and sped out of the garage.

Forty minutes later, I was back in shit-hole Secaucus. As soon as I was old enough, I got the fuck out of town via the military—my ticket to freedom. Sadly, that stint didn’t last long. When you had hair-trigger emotions, working around weaponry was a terrible idea.

The one good thing that came out of my tours of duty—it took two before I was deemed a hazard—was my friendship with Deidrick Hines. Everyone called him Rick except for me. The big lug would always be Ollie, short for his middle name. He’d accepted a medical discharge and left the Marines, but the fucker saw so much shit overseas that he couldn’t hold down a regular job. First chance he got, Ollie came home to Secaucus and joined an MC. It wasn’t what a vet should have done, but dude was seriously messed up in the head. When he wasn’t running guns or some shit for the club, he hung out at Black Jack’s Bar & Grill.

A handful of degenerates littered the rickety chairs and cracked vinyl booths. They were like the useless remnants at the bottom of a bottle—not enough to make a decent drink but too much to throw out. A plume of smoke curled up from a corner booth, and I headed straight for it.

The tall blond sat with his back against the wall. I slid into the booth and tried my best not to touch the sticky, dirty table. His tired green eyes looked over at me.

What the fuck do you want? Ollie tapped the cigarette into an ashtray piled high with butts.

Now, now, is that anyway to treat your best friend?

Ollie leaned forward, his biceps bulging from beneath his cut. Maybe if you came by more often, I’d be fucking happy to see your ass.

I eyed his tumbler of whiskey—it was all he ever drank—and licked my lips. Thanks to my father, I didn’t touch alcohol either. The man was a mean drunk who spent the better part of my childhood beating the shit out of my Ma—the reason why she did drugs. When he got tired of wailing away on her, he turned to me. At one point, I had so many bruises my skin looked like a tie-dye shirt.

Okay, Savage, I’ll bite. Why the hell are you in town?

Only Ollie called me that. The name stuck after he saw me beat a man within an inch of his life. I loosened my tie and sat back.

Got the night off. I reached for his pack of smokes—my chosen vice. I have to check in on Ma, but then we could—

I’ve got to make a run for the club. I’ll be gone for a couple of days. You’re welcome to stay at my place.

I shook my head and took a drag from the cancer stick. Pass. Your place is a fucking pig sty.

His lips curled up on one side. It’s clean enough for your ass. Ollie studied me for a moment. Wanna tell me the real reason you’re here?

Daniels. He called the team in to find out who’s sleeping with Peyton.

Ollie’s eyebrow quirked up. And does he know?

I closed my eyes and said, About me? Possibly.

Is she worth it?

A smile spread across my face as I cracked open an eye. "Oh, yeah, brother. Every