Theo: The Auckland Kings Crime Family Trilogy Book Three: Social Rejects Syndicate Read online

  Theo: The Auckland Kings Crime Family Trilogy Book Three

  Social Rejects Syndicate

  A.J. Macey

  Contents

  Author Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Rival

  Chapter 1

  Want More Social Rejects Syndicate?

  Also by A.J. Macey

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Blurb

  TO DO

  Warning

  The Auckland Kings Crime Family series is a mafia romance M/F trilogy with each book following a different couple. Each book ends in a HEA and can be read separately, but please note these books contain mature content and may include references to violence, attempted assault, abuse, and other themes that some readers may find triggering.

  Copyright 2021 by A.J. Macey

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover: Sweet 15 Designs

  Editing: S. Ebel at Personal Touch Editing

  Formatting: A.J. Macey at Inked Imagination Author Services

  Dedicated to:

  My daughter, Evelyn Rose.

  Do what makes your heart happy.

  Author Note

  Please note, while this book is set in Auckland, New Zealand with at least one major character based from NZ - it is written in American English and will lack phrasing and slang typical of the region.

  1

  Mila

  “Are you fucking serious?” I gaped, disbelief filling me.

  There is no way in hell that just came out of his mouth.

  “Language, Mila,” he snapped harshly. As much as I tried not to, I couldn’t help jumping at the sharpness of his voice. “It’s happening.”

  Apparently, it did come out of his mouth.

  My father just assigned me a fucking fiancé.

  A shitty one at that.

  “I’m not marrying Stephen!” I practically shout, my arms flinging out wide.

  “You can, and you will.”

  I ground my teeth and glared, my cheeks burning in my anger. “Why the hell would I need a fucking husband?”

  “Because that’s your duty to The Phantoms! Honestly...” he scoffed, his own hand waving about in his annoyance.

  “My duty?” My eyes narrowed. “My duty is to be next in line, to take over when the time is right, especially after Uncle Taylor passed the leadership to you when he was killed.”

  Expecting a lecture, for my father continue yelling as he was so fond of, I was surprised when he burst out in laughter. The sight only increased the thrum of rage pulsing through me. Not just because he hadn’t responded, but something about the statement was funny to him when it shouldn’t have been. A sinking feeling grew in my stomach, but I waited—albeit impatiently—for him to calm down before jumping to conclusions.

  “Take over?” he finally hiccupped out, tears streaming down his weathered face as he finally got a hold of himself. “Mila, dear, your duty is to marry and provide the Walker line another generation.”

  My jaw dropped. That sickening sensation grew exponentially as I stared at him. Disgust, fury, and betrayal wound together until I could barely stop from picking up the chair next to me and chucking it at his head for his demeaning tone and archaic views.

  “I’m not a fucking broodmare,” I snapped, coming to my senses when I realized I was just standing there, looking like a fool. “I’m your daughter, the daughter to the fucking head of The Phantoms, and you can’t honestly think I’m best served to be some prick’s wife and pop out little asshole child—”

  “Enough!” he bellowed. He hit the table hard, the slap of his palms against the wood sharp to my ears, and I couldn’t hold myself steady as he shot up to standing. A pleased sparkle grew in his gaze when I stepped back, but I refused to look away. “You will marry Stephen, and that is that.”

  “But—” I tried again.

  “Get out.”

  My father refused to look at me, sending me away with a dismissive wave of his hand, his entire focus on the decanter to his left. Knowing I wouldn’t get any further in our argument, I turned on my heel and stormed out.

  Scathing remarks filled my head, but I refused to let my mask slip as I shoved open the door to his office. There would be whispers and rumors circulating after our shouting match, but they didn’t need to get any more fuel for their gossip from me.

  I turned the corner, intending to leave the premises as soon as fucking possible, and ran right into a long and lanky torso. A frustrated huff left me at the obstruction on my path away from this hell I’d been tossed into, but I felt my blood run cold when I realized who I’d run into.

  Stephen.

  My supposed future husband.

  “Mila,” he greeted in a murmur. A shiver worked down my spine at the insinuating tone, as if he knew exactly why I was angry. He probably did, but I still hated the look of victory on his face as he looked down at me.

  “Move,” I ground out, not bothering to be polite. He didn’t deserve manners or pleasantries, not just because my father said so.

  “Aw, running away already?” he taunted, stepping effortlessly in front of me when I attempted to shoulder past. “Shouldn’t you be happy to see your husband?”

  “Fuck you! You’re more than welcome to go along with my father’s delusions, but you’re not my anything,” I spat. A stinging radiated through my fists, my nails digging into the skin hard enough, I knew there would be crescent-shaped cuts across my palms. “Now get out of the damn way before I—”

  “Before you what?” he challenged with a cold chuckle. “Make me?”

  If looks could kill, he would be dead at my feet. I wanted nothing more than to punch him in the soft bits and listen to him scream like the little bitch he was.

  “Here’s the thing, Mila,” he whispered, leaning down. I refused to step back, to be intimidated. I’d known Stephen since I was a child, and while the two of us had gotten along in the beginning, it quickly became clear he was everything a Phantom should be—dangerous, cocky, and a downright bastard.

  Everything I despised.

  I was above them, all the lackeys and soldiers, not just some piece of meat to be ordered around. I did the ordering, not them.

  “There is nothing you can do,” he continued, cutting off my internal ranting. “How would that look to the rest of the men, or worse, your father? Wouldn’t want to face his blinding rage now, would you? Not again.”

  My lip twitched, but I smoothed out the angry curl of a sneer as quickly as it came. Did I want that? Hell-to-the-fucking no, but there was no way this was happening, so I bit my tongue and glared.

  Brains over brawn, I reminded myself, that’s what kept you safe.

  Kept you in power.

  “I have a meeting with him to discuss the details of our current pact, such as living arrangements, so I’ll let you go for now, but just know, you will break for me.”

  With a quick movement, he grabb
ed hold of my face and kissed me roughly. It was reactive, shoving him away, but the next part I couldn’t stop myself from doing. My hand came out and slapped him, my nails racking over his tanned and bony cheek.

  Before he could do much else, too busy shouting curses and pressing a palm to his face, I ran down the hall and stairs, bursting into the quickly warming weather. I didn’t stop until I knew I was far enough away no one could follow me. Panting and anxious, I leaned up against the brick of the closest building and let my head hang down.

  Whatever it took, I knew without a shadow of a doubt in my mind—I wouldn’t marry that bastard.

  Even if it meant taking down my father in the process.

  Theo

  As I walked down the sidewalk, I felt my knuckles throbbing, the tanned skin bruised a deep purple and blue. Rolling my eyes, I shook off the pain the best I could, but I couldn’t stop the muttered grumbling from tumbling out.

  “Damn Liam and his smart mouth and fucking Sam for stupid his face.” The memories from the day before flashed in my mind as I walked. Liam and I had ended up in a loud argument over something I couldn’t even remember, and Sam had forced us down into the gym to resolve our petty fight in the ring. At the stark reminder why my knuckles were bruised to hell and back, my ribs throbbed, making my frown even deeper.

  Shoving away the remaining annoyance, I stepped into the lobby of the apartment building and rode the rickety elevator to the proper floor. A mutual acquaintance of the Auckland Kings had found some information on a potential new investor but refused to give us the information unless one of us came by personally.

  Thankfully, the man, Bernie, had always been a bit short on communication and small talk. I was in and out of his apartment in under a minute, information in hand and safely tucked away in the front pocket of my jeans.

  It took everything in me to not start grumbling again as I waited for the sole elevator in the building to return to the floor. I knew I needed to be in a better mood when I returned to the King compound, lest Sam decided to pummel me in the ring himself.

  What I couldn’t stop, though, was a loud groan when I finally got on the elevator, and it stopped only two floors down to pick up another passenger. At this rate, it’ll take me all damned day to make it back to the lobby.

  Stepping off to the side, I watched the dinged and dirty elevator doors open, only to narrow my eyes when I saw who stood on the other side.

  “Mila Walker,” I growled. Daughter of Harris Walker, heir of our enemy, The Phantoms, and fucking hot to boot, which made my irritation grow.

  “Theo,” she sneered, not moving.

  “Good to see you... not. Have fun waiting for the elevator to return,” I countered with a smirk, pressing the ‘Close’ button.

  Her hand came out, catching the doors as they slid together. I ground my teeth as she stepped into the tiny compartment with a cocky grin.

  “Don’t mind if I catch a ride with you, do you?” she sassed, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

  As much as I would have loved to shove her off the elevator, I liked keeping all my limbs intact, so I stayed silent and let my irritation fester. It seemed the harder I stared at the little indicator light shift down the floors, the slower it went.

  Until we were both jostled with a screeching stop, the elevator no longer moving.

  “Great,” Mila muttered, pressing a few of the buttons to no avail.

  “Of course,” I started with a shrug. “Only I would get stuck in an elevator with you.” Reaching forward, I hit a few buttons with more force than necessary, as if corporal punishment would make it magically work.

  “Oh, shut it,” she snapped, looking up at me with disdain. Her light grey eyes narrowed as her thin arms crossed over her chest. It took effort not to look down at her chest, but I managed… somehow. “We won’t be in here long. And I already tried that.” She waved a hand at me, still smashing the worn circles on the wall.

  “How the hell would you know how long we’ll be here?” She stepped over to the doors and ran her fingers over the seam. My face scrunched in confusion. “What are you? The elevator whisperer?”

  “You’re fucking impossible,” she muttered, continuing what she was doing without looking back.

  Rolling my eyes, I dug out my phone, noting there was barely a bar, but a signal was a signal. Dialing emergency services, I pressed the cell to my ear.

  Except there was no ringing on the line.

  Taking a step to the right, I strained to hear any kind of sound from the speaker. I moved around the tiny space, lifting and lowering the cell until finally, after my third circle, I was connected to the towers.

  “Finally,” I muttered as I waited.

  “You’re calling who exactly?”

  Her voice pulled my focus away from my surge of victory. Mila was looking at me over her shoulder, a single brow arched in a haughty expression. As bitchy as she looked, it was hard not to notice the lust that filled me.

  “Who the hell do you think? We’re stuck in an elevator. Emergency services will get us out.”

  “That’s if they’ll even be able to make out what you’re saying, you prat. I can get us out of here.”

  I stared at her, not bothering to hide how skeptical I was.

  “This is emergency services. What is your emergency?” a garbled, broken voice said.

  “I’m stuck in the elevator of the Brickton Apartment Complex, building C on floor eight,” I revealed.

  “Is it just you?” the person asked, the bad signal making it nearly impossible to tell if it was a man or woman.

  “Me and one other.”

  “Is anyone injured?”

  Unfortunately, not.

  “No,” I stated, although I would love nothing more than to chuck Mila out of the lift.

  “Stay there and stay calm. I will have a unit en route as soon as possible, but it might be twenty minutes before they arrive. Would you like to stay on the line with me?”

  “Nope, as long as someone comes and gets us the hell out of here, I’m good. Thanks.” I didn’t bother to say goodbye before hanging up.

  “Wow, you Kings really are as snotty as you’re made out to be,” Mila noted with a hint of disgust, shaking her head before she went back to the elevator door.

  “Hey, you know nothing about my family or us, so keep our names out of your fucking mouth,” I snapped, an unhealthy amount of anger surging forward.

  Much to my dismay, she just dug her fingers into the seam of the doors and pulled with an effortful grunt.

  “A little help would be fucking appreciated,” she ground out, her arms trembling as she held the dented metal open no more than four inches.

  “Oh, would it? Maybe you should have asked nicely, you know, since you Phantom’s apparently have better manners than the likes of me.”

  “Im-bloody-possible,” she huffed. “Fine. Can you help me with these doors?”

  “What’re the magic words?”

  A colorful string of cursing filled the elevator.

  “Can you, pretty please, with a fucking cherry on top, help me, Theo?” Every word was dripping in hatred.

  A smirk curled my lips, but I obliged, knowing she would no doubt let the door shut and slice me with the knife I saw sticking out of the waistband of her jeans. Stepping forward, I took one door from her straining grip and pulled. Between the two of us, we shoved the doors open.

  “Now what, smart stuff?” I challenged when we were met with half of the opening made up of a solid wall, only a small portion showing the floor above us.

  “Would you just give me five bloody minutes? I said I’d get us out of here, didn’t I?” she sassed breathlessly, her hands going to hips in challenge.

  “As if a girl could get us out of here,” I prodded, chuckling. Mila’s steel-colored gaze sharpened to a cold glare, and my cock twitched at the fiery expression. She was even hotter when she was angry. I continued my torment, knowing while I may
not be allowed to touch, I could certainly enjoy watching.

  “Oh, a wee bit sensitive, are we?”

  Her harsh frown transformed into a cruel smile. “Nope. Just shouldn’t be surprised an Auckland King would be a narcissistic, patriarchal, sexist bastard.”

  “Phew, that’s a lot of big words for a little girl,” I murmured, leaning closer. Her forehead nearly reaching my jaw, she was taller than Harper or Chloe, my brothers’ girls, but I could still tower like Liam and Hunter always liked to do.

  “Yeah, well, this little girl is going to save your sorry ass, so move,” she countered, shoving me back. It wasn’t hard, but instead of continuing to press her, I obliged. My curiosity overrode my desire to goad her.

  I can do that when she fails to get us out.

  Reaching back, she pulled out her knife, flicked it open effortlessly, and reached up to a small section of the door to the upper floor. I watched silently as she dug around in a small alcove, poking, prodding, and cutting before she brought her arm down.

  “Give up already?”

  “Pfft, as if, King. Help me with this door, and no, I’m not saying please again.”

  “Pretty sure you just did,” I pointed out but stepped closer. Much to my disappointment, she didn’t sass me back.

  Reaching up, she took one side of the doors, and following suit, I grabbed the other half and tugged. It opened with ease, unlike the elevator door.

  “Ha, told you. Now help me up,” she demanded, grabbing hold of the edge. She was just tall enough to get a good grip, and I didn’t stop my eyes from trailing over the lean muscles and curves of her back, ass, and legs as she did.