Dangerously Unprotected

By Selena Black

Armand is a wealthy philanthropist, and Evelyn is a woman from an underprivileged background, both united in their search for the stolen Dragon Heart jewel.

 

Will Armand and Evelyn's love be strong enough to withstand the obstacles they face, and will the truth behind the Dragon Heart's disappearance be uncovered?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Selena Black
• Release date: Apr 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215029718

Book preview

Dangerously Unprotected

Selena Black

CHAPTER 1

The light was beginning to dip behind the high-rise and it made the temperature in the living room drop. Grandma was sitting in the chair, her favorite one she’d had since she moved in here. It was drooping in the middle, with the back all torn from cat scratches, but nevertheless she refused to get a new one.

She was looking tired today, and it always upset me to see her in such a frail way. Her limbs were fragile and weak, her fingers protruding with great, big arthritic knots. I walked over and brushed the hair from her eyes, felt the cold of her skin against my hands.

You ok? I leaned and shook her a little.

She nodded but didn’t look me in the eye. She was getting worse; age wasn’t treating her kindly. I kissed her on the forehead and said my goodbyes.

I’ll be back in the morning.

Stumbling over the debris that was cluttering up the hallway, I made my way to the kitchen. As always, the smell was so enticing. If I had to take one memory away from my life, it would be the smell of my mother’s cooking, God bless her soul.

As soon as I saw her, I clutched her from behind, grabbing ahold of her as though we’d been apart for years.

What’s got into you? She turned around and kissed my cheek, her motherly bosom pressing hard into my chest.

Nothin’ just…. Missed you.

You saw me yesterday! she chuckled. Now sit down and get yourself some dinner, and she spooned out a large bowl and placed it in front of me.

I needed to build my strength up for tonight, wanted to present my A game. As my mother sat down across the table, she had an odd look in her eyes. The one that always meant she was on to me.

What? I tried to act normal.

You’re up to something. I can feel it. She had that inquisitive stare, the one that had caught me smoking a dozen times.

Well, I dunno what you’re talking about, I shrugged, unable to stop the guilty smile from upturning the corner of my lips.

Don’t lie to me, she playfully nudged me in the arm. You’re on some sort of mission tonight, aren’t you? Can’t you spend your evenings with a nice boy rather than running around out there, doing whatever it is you do?

Maybe, I stared into the bowl thinking about my non-existent love life.

I had a boyfriend once and he wasn’t a very nice one. He cheated on me, took my money and drank too much. As far as I was concerned, that part of my life was very much on hold. I looked back to my mom. 

Just be safe, she patted my hand. Whatever you’re doing out there.

It stunned me. She was always so stern with my nighttime endeavors, so full of fraught worry that she’d often clutch hold of me before I left the house, begging me not to go.

What’s changed your mind? I was suspicious.

Well… You’re a grown woman. I can’t stop you anymore, was all she said and we both resumed eating.

As she cleared the table, she spoke over her shoulder, the ceiling fan almost eclipsing her words.

But before you go, have a word with your little sister, won’t you? She’s going through some sort of ‘thing,’ she flexed her fingers, "some sort of boy trouble at school.

I rolled my eyes. Sure.

Knocking on her door presented no answer. She was obviously having one of her sulks. I knocked again; this time I heard the creak of the door handle as she opened up and looked out the gap in the doorway with one large eye.

What do you want? She seemed annoyed for no reason again.

Mom said some boy’s been given you trouble?

She sighed and opened up the door to reveal her disaster of a bedroom. Clothes were strewn all over the floor with perfume bottles littering every surface. Half-peeling posters of boys I didn’t recognize were falling down over her bed.

What the fuck, Margie? This is a bomb site.

But she didn’t seem to care, just walked away and slumped onto her bed.

Hey, I sat down beside her. You wanna tell me what’s been goin’ on?

Not really, she leaned her head onto my shoulder.

Come on, I wrapped an arm around her. You can tell your big sis everything.

She was in deep thought for a minute as if she wasn’t sure whether she should confide her feelings to an adult. But then she remembered all those times we spent together, just the two of us alone in this place with no food or heat.

He said I’m dirty and poor! That I’m some sort of hobo, she began to cry.

Who said that?

This boy I like. His name’s Johnathan.

For a moment I was in a rage, close to demanding to know where this Johnathan lived. I was ready to clutch my hands around his throat for making my sister cry. But for once in my life I did the right thing. I held her tight and whispered:

Don’t listen to him. I’ll be getting you outta here soon, and I fished inside my pocket.

Pulling out a silver ring with a sapphire set in the middle, I placed it into the palm of her hand and bumped my forehead to hers.

Don’t tell Mom.

Where did you get this? Margie was as shocked as she was excited.

But I tapped the side of my nose as I stood up to leave.

Now get back to doing your homework, I winked.

But I hate homework! she yelled as I closed the door behind me.

On my way down the stairs, I passed all the usual shady characters that I’d been accustomed to. A group of drug dealers were huddled in the jammed open lift with their eyes wide and menacing. They nodded as I passed; guess I was taking the stairs.

My mom and sister lived on the top floor, as did I until I moved out six months ago. As much as I hated to leave them, I had to – had to protect my identity and make sure my work never mixed with family. Besides, I was up there nearly every day anyway.

Running down the stairs that had helped me get in such great shape my whole life, I dodged the sleeping alcoholics and hurried for the front door. Pulling out my phone, I checked the time. I didn’t have long.

With my feet crunching on the frost, I raced out the projects, my heart in my throat as I made my way home.

CHAPTER 2

It wasn’t long until I was back in my own apartment. It was only slightly cleaner than my mom’s, but I kept it the way I wanted, with all the décor dripping in black and a great sound system hooked up in the living room.

Looking in the mirror I couldn’t help but admire my own physique. Pride may be a sin, but I worked hard for my body. It was slick and lithe with muscles in all the right places that were as nimble as they were strong.

Out of habit I pulled up my shirt and flexed my abs. Not bad, I thought to myself. Stripping off and changing into my workout gear, I looked to the clock on the wall. I only had half an hour before I had to leave, but that was plenty of time to pump myself up and get a sweat on.

I started with crunches then moved to squats, lunges and bicep curls. By the time I was finished, I could feel the adrenaline in my limbs, feel the serotonin creeping up the back of my neck making my brain feel alight.

It was these moments, the calm before the storm, when I felt alive, felt like I was living just for the night. In a hurry I pulled on my black leathers. They were supple but sturdy and I could move freely, stretching them to their limit while feeling safe and warm.

There was a beep in the distance, my phone alerting me to what I had to face. I opened the message in a hurry.

Use the back door, stay light on your feet and tell no one.

I rolled my eyes. Who would I tell? I chuckled at the overprotective message. I didn’t need to be told what to do, not anymore.

And so into the night I hurried, with my scarf tight around my face to protect it from the elements, and from the CCTV. It was a short sprint to the neighborhood. It always amazed me how luxury and opulence could thrive so close to poverty and squalor. It broke my heart that the boundaries between the two were so final and rigid. But not for long…

The house was ahead of me now; it towered above the others. The gates were tall and spiked, but they were nothing I hadn’t encountered before. I’d be over them in a few seconds and then the next thing I’d have to worry about was the big lights that would turn on with the sensors. But my experience had taught me people often ignored them, assuming they were set off by the wind or a bird.

Heaving myself up over the railings, I found they were easier than I expected. I dropped down the other side, my feet making no sound as they landed on the tiles. The house was gargantuan above me, leaning over with its decadence. The tall, elongated windows looked like bright eyes, ones that the owner didn’t realize were easy to penetrate. There was no way I was using the back door. 

I’d seen a dozen of these before. The owners of the house probably thought they made their home look regal, but they were in fact the easiest target. Shimmying my way to the nearest one, the outdoor lights flickering on and off as I passed, I peeked inside. The keypad for the alarm was in the most obvious place, the hallway.

Rookies, I whispered to myself.

Pulling out my favorite knife from the inside of my boots, I looked to it as though it were an old friend. It had been with me through all my raids and yet again it was going to take me to the prize. The putty from the inside of the window frame came away easily under the blade. Pulling it out with my nimble fingers, I wound it around my wrist, careful not to leave it behind for anyone to find.

The glass plate was almost my height, but I was strong, and the glass itself wasn’t as dense and expensive as the homeowner thought it was. Yet again my intuition had rewarded me, but most of these houses were the same.

I knew I had seven seconds before the alarm went off. But I’d been researching the owner for weeks, knew everything about them. Along with my hacker friends over at the Red Data hacker group, we’d sifted through endless files on their computers and found one that was so stupid we all laughed out loud.

The folder was titled ‘passcodes’ and held precisely what you’d expect. It took less than ten seconds to find the alarm code. So, as my toes dropped down on the other side of the window, my boots dirtying the plush, thick carpet beneath me, I hurried to the keypad.

Sixteen seventy-four, I mouthed as I punched in the numbers.

The alarm never did go off and I was good to go. I gave myself a mental high five for getting inside my twenty-seventh millionaire mansion.  Now all I had to do was find what I needed.

Most home layouts were similar, with the main bedrooms on the second floor with the most precious possessions hidden within arm’s reach of the bed. It was rare that people hid their belongings in faraway places like the basement or the attic.

Although the usual safes were an ordinary fixture, people were even too paranoid for that. They opted for cubby holes hidden under floorboards, little nooks only they knew existed. I’d found so many things in those tiny boxes – sentimental things like photographs, guns, diamonds, illegal porn and even someone’s ashes.

I always enjoyed studying the safes and hidden places in people’s houses. It was like studying the mind of the owner. The hole under the floorboards was often a manifestation of a hidden part of their psyche.

I wondered what I’d find in this house. There was no need for anything extraordinary, just what we needed. Often I’d take only what was necessary and leave what we didn’t require. I wasn’t on the lookout for everything I could get.

Making my way up to the master bedroom, the only room in the house with the sound of a television playing, my feet were almost invisible in a blur of speed. My years of childhood gymnastics were at least good for something and I enjoyed that my skill could be practical. I was agile, flexible and tiny with feet like a fairy. I felt as though I was dancing as I shimmied through windows and climbed down drainpipes.

The bedroom door was before me and, along with the sound of the television, there came another noise, one that was music to my ears. The man was snoring. Peeking in the gap in the door, I could see his head as he faced the window, his fat stomach rising and falling.

He was home alone and only had me to keep him company, if only he knew. Before I entered I double checked the details on my phone.

He was in his thirties, a self-made millionaire who’d earned most of his money in scrap metal. He was now living the life he always wanted. But as far as I could see, he was single and had the eight bedroom house to himself. He had held monthly parties which were almost infamous amongst the upper echelons of the neighborhood as being quite the smut parade.

But his last party was last night, and that meant he was really suffering today, at least I hoped. There was also a record of him acquiring a large amount of debt, a result of a crippling gambling addiction. And after his last bank statement, he’d cashed in what he had left for gold bars.

And I was pretty sure I could find them; it’s what I was sent here to do. One last look in the door and I could make out the outline of the bed as the flickering screen threw its silhouette against the floor.

Just as I expected, the floorboards were