Seducing Virtue (Wicked Trinity Book 3) Read online

  Contents

  SEDUCING VIRTUE

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THE END

  HOW TO HELP

  THANK YOU

  CONNECT WITH ME

  Seducing Virtue (Wicked Trinity #3)

  Copyright © 2017 by Courtney Lane

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  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 publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

  This is licensed for your personal use only. Sharing, copying, reselling, or redistributing is strictly prohibited. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, download it through a legal lending service, receive a copy directly from the author, or receive it as a gift through an approved vendor, please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author and enabling them to continue to publish their works.

  Editors:

  K. Swiss

  Judy’s Proofreading

  Cover Artist:

  Courtney Lane

  To Jettie and Leddy:

  Without you this series wouldn't have happened.

  MY GUESTS WERE divided by their visible distaste for one another and a jumble of nervous energy. While they paced the living room area of my expansive home, I topped off their glasses, placed on the small table, with more wine. The aroma of the burgundy liquid did little to garner their consideration.

  In a more dramatic effort to simmer the argument they shared, I dislodged the hoarseness in my throat.

  Two of Keaton’s closest and dearest friends halted their spat and turned to regard me.

  Months earlier, I planned to include all three of Keaton’s friends into my scheme once a particular phase met completion. Sonja, the individual who served as the solid and moral center and the key to building a rapport between Nathan and Brandy, was murdered. Noah’s increasingly turbulent desperation continued to drizzle poison onto Keaton’s life. Sonja’s death affected my plans immeasurably.

  “I don’t like him.” With effort, Brandy settled herself into the settee adjacent to my arm chair. Her jewel-toned green eyes stabbed at Nathan with years of bridled repulsion. “Whatever you invited us here for, I cannot work with that dick.”

  “Weren’t you supposed to be running away from your problems somewhere in Dubai?” Nathan questioned her, prodding her slightly calm conduct shortly after she settled.

  “I was asked, very nicely, to be here.” A promising spark illuminated her eyes when she winked at me.

  Brandy had decided to escape shortly after Sonja’s tragic death. Locating her after her flight from D.C. instantly became my priority. The future I constructed for Keaton would’ve met a volatile and unpredictable end if Keaton’s friends were scattered across the world. If either Nathan or Brandy escaped my increasing reach, it would render them as easy prey for a man whom prided himself on using any measure to induce Keaton’s affliction: my brother, Noah.

  “Please, sit.” A warm smile removed the edge from my tone toward Nathan.

  After much internal deliberation, he perched himself upon my sofa, a short distance from me.

  “I invited both of you here today for an important purpose,” I relayed to them. “To come clean with you and reveal my future plans.”

  “Are you going to tell me who you really are?” Nathan’s poorly masked bitterness attempted to siphon my assuredness.

  His anger wasn’t misplaced. I was the means by which he was able to return to D.C. We kept in contact, and on infrequent nights I provided him with a place to stay when he was unable to book a hotel. His loyalty was purchased when a pending lawsuit against him for slander by an overzealous husband—who grew livid over the divorce settlement granted by his wife—was erased. My actions salvaged his career as a divorce attorney, and to show his eternal gratitude, he agreed to reconnect with Keaton.

  Betrayal was an easily seen darkened stain in his deep brown eyes. I provided Nathan with materials, that he later gave to Keaton, proving I wasn’t the man I presented myself to be: Sander, a former resident of the House of Rebirth. In truth, Sander perished in a fire set by my brother with the intent to end my life.

  Taking the prerequisite soothing breaths prior to disclosing my secrets, I captivated their consideration. “My name isn’t Braedan Michaels, nor am I Sander. My name is Shiloh Oliver.”

  Sharp gasps knifed through the stale air.

  “Noah is my older brother,” I admitted. “We were the directors of Rebirth together and hold the responsibility of manipulating, permitting, and committing many terrible acts. While I’m guilty of numerous things, murder isn’t one of my crimes. I want the both of you to know who I truly am and know how much I care for Keaton and will continue to help her any way I can.

  “We have a budding and pressing issue facing us and threatening Keaton’s safety. Keaton is no longer my brother’s possession. His tactics will become more severe as he tries to regain what he thinks he’s owed. One of my greatest wishes is to prevent either of you from meeting the same fate as your dear friend Sonja. I’m humbly asking for your blessing to offer protection. In return, I only need your silence when I do what needs to be done to subdue Noah and anything or anyone having dealings with him in the past or the immediacy…permanently.”

  “Are…you…for real?” Brandy was at her feet, calling Nathan to do the same. “You lied to me.” Her finger pointed inward and her eyes were heavily weighted by her awe. “To us.”

  “It was never my intention to deceive you.” My stature remained unassuming and my words to her were wrapped in a soothing confidence. “I couldn’t reveal my identity until the time was right.”

  “How are you any better than Noah?” Marching in her steps, Brandy confronted me, shoving a thin finger into my sternum. “I don’t know all you did. Keaton wouldn’t say—not even on that interview you convinced her to do.”

  A brief intermission opened her up to reveal her despondency. “I can guess.” Her green eyes became hardly discernible and she resumed wearing the costume of a woman who wore her strength as though it were a cloak on her shoulders. “Why would you think we would help you when you were a part of the craziness?”

  “I want to tell both of you my story, to explain many things you might have questions about. First, there’s something I need both of you to see: a recording taken while Keaton resided in the compound. You need to see the monstrous man behind the name you both loathe. You need to believe in what must be done, and you need to trust in me to do it.” Seizing the remote from the table
, I pressed the play button.

  A recording of Noah’s brutality began to resume on the large screen fixed on the mantel-shelf above the brick fireplace. Keaton was bound to a bench and bent over in the basement of the House of Rebirth. Noah was in the midst of forcibly assaulting Keaton, shoving his fingers inside her. At times, he used his entire fist to tear into one of her bleeding, red orifices. He made use of his dominant hand by opening her back to deep wounds, oozing with blood. Her cries resounded from the speakers to fill the formal living room of my home, shattering pieces of me along with her friends.

  “Turn it off.” Brandy’s lips trembled with her fight to bind herself in stoicism. “Turn it off!”

  I obliged her, shutting off the playback.

  “Did you do stuff like that to her?” A dainty hand swept the moisture from her cheeks. Her entire petite body trembled as though she was Keaton in the recording.

  “Never have I inflicted pain on her so severe she would never recover.” I chose my words carefully. “Noah was the sadist. I only wanted Keaton’s love. I still do.”

  “Maybe he was right,” Nathan mumbled, his head wobbled while he remained drunk on his sadness.

  “Who’s right about what?” Brandy questioned him.

  “I love Keaton. She knows I do.” Nathan crossed his arms defensively. Fine lines of tension aged him beyond his young years. “You don’t know what Noah put in the package he sent me.” Nathan’s brown eyes fixated on me. “To know you’re going to make a big mess even messier… I can’t. I have my job. My life. My career to think about. I’ve tried and been pushed long past my limits with Keaton. I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to die, or worse, be kidnapped and used as bait by Noah. I know what you say, but I think that man has more power than you. You can’t protect us all—you couldn’t protect us all.”

  “You selfish bastard.” The ticking of Brandy’s high heels were a brutal symphony on the hardwood. “And she always wondered why I hated you and picked on you. I knew who you really were behind the nice guy you showed her. An opportunist and a fair-weather friend.”

  “It isn’t selfishness.” Nathan’s voice shuddered with a mixture of fury and frustration. “I’ve done what I can and even put my own life in danger to help Keaton. I have a life.” He palmed his face, removing his tears. “I have a life I want to get back to. And I just wish…” Shaking his head, he confessed again as though he were on trial, professing his truth. “I wish I never came here.” He rose from the couch, turning his back on me. “I love Keaton, I do. But I’ve done all I can for her. I’ve already made arrangements to leave, and I’m not canceling anything to stay here.”

  “You coward.” Brandy shoved at his shoulder, coaxing him to lose his balance and tumble backward. “Why are you really running, Nathan? Tell the truth.”

  “Because this is too big for me.” He twirled around, pressing his arms out to remove Brandy from his immediate space. “It’s too big for you, too. I don’t want to end up like Sonja. I don’t want to stay here and wait to be murdered for being friends with Keaton.”

  “What did Noah send to you anyway that has you so shook up?” she goaded him.

  Nathan delayed, coercing Brandy to bark her question at him once more. “He gave me a dildo, okay? A note was with it and stated it would be my first, whether I wanted it to be or not. Might be small to you. It isn’t to me. Noah knows more about me than he should, and I know it isn’t because Keaton told him.” Showing his discomfort, he scratched at his chest through the material of his sweater. “What did he send you?”

  “Nothing.” She dismissed his question with the rolling of her shoulders. “Nothing that scared me as bad as it did you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nathan said to me. “I’ll say my goodbyes to Keaton, then I’m out. If this is done…” He pointed to the front door.

  With a cursory nod, I granted him permission to leave. Minutes later, the latching of the front door echoed from the foyer, announcing Nathan’s ill-timed and ill-advised departure.

  “We’re not friends anymore. You lied to me.” A heavy sigh heaved Brandy’s chest. Her gaze remained on the invisible trail Nathan had left. “Here’s the thing: I know people. I always know people. I know you, whatever you did or didn’t do at Rebirth, deep down you’re a decent guy. All the things you did for Keaton, I know it wasn’t about revenge. You love her.” She turned squarely to face me with a scowl. “Doesn’t mean I trust you or you’ll be one hundred percent good with me again, but whatever you have planned, I want in. I want Noah to suffer before he dies. The only way that’s going to happen is if he stays his psychotic ass out of jail.”

  Shaken by her enthusiasm to thrust herself into a dangerous game, I simply blinked in utter astonishment. “You misunderstood me, I have no intention of including you in my plan.”

  “Well, guess what? You don’t have a choice. If Noah could do that to her…” She pointed to the blank screen. “I have to help. I want to help. I need to help.”

  Settling back on the couch, I revised my plans to include her in a nonthreatening capacity. “Then, let’s begin.”

  “WHO WAS HE?” On speaker mode while I seemed stuck in the bathtub of the en suite beside my childhood bedroom in my parents’ house, I spoke to one of my dearest friends, Nathan.

  He continuously questioned me about the identity of the imposter who infiltrated my life. Braedan’s false identity was shown to Nathan first when he did some digging at my request. He had yet to find out Braedan’s true identity, and I wasn’t quite sure how or if I could reveal it.

  I chewed on his question for several minutes, sinking deeper into bathwater that had long lost its warm temperature and decadent bubbles.

  “Do you even know, Keaton?” Nathan expressed his need for an answer, sooner rather than later.

  The persistent deepening emotional ditch created an ache in my gut. After learning the identity of the man I fell for, I wished I could disappear. The pain medication I consistently took wouldn’t cure the pain. My pain penetrated underneath the surface and it couldn’t be reached or cured by anything or anyone except Braedan.

  The source of my pain, and the man I wanted to escape from, was on his way to my parents’ home for a dinner my mother had planned specifically for him under the guise of celebrating Thanksgiving, when we never celebrated the holiday as a family in the past.

  At least a dozen answers circled the drain, leaving me with only one response to give to a friend I’d recently reconnected with: a lie. “He…” The truth was a blockage in my throat, swaying me further toward a fabrication and saddled me with guilt. “He’s just an admirer. My story made him think we could connect in some way. He thought lying to me would be easier. He really is Braedan Michaels.”

  Nathan exhaled as though he had plunged into disappointment. The line remained silent for long enough to question if he had hung up on me.

  “That’s a huge charade he put on to get close to you,” he spoke, removing the stale and awkward air between us. “I hope you gave him hell for lying to you, and I hope you are going to make him pay for leading you on.”

  “I am.” There was enough distance in my voice to rival the depth and width of the Pacific Ocean. I slipped forward in the full bathtub and turned the faucet toward the end of the red line. Steaming hot water filled my cool bath. “Nathan, I have to go. Talk to you later?”

  “Goodbye, Keaton.”

  It was said with such finality it compelled me to ask if he planned on leaving.

  He hung up before I had the chance.

  The heightened temperature of the water punished me with scalding hot liquid. I remained there, hoping it would purge my system of my memories heavily featuring Braedan. Closing my eyes, I slid down, submerging myself up to my neck. My chin grazed against the water level. The steam filled my nose and elicited a sheen of perspiration on my face.

  In the darkness, the thoughts I willed away came fighting back, streaming across my vision. I daydreamed of Braedan being besi
de me, touching me, and whispering my name against my ear. My body reacted and greedily longed for what it had become accustomed to receiving, allowing Braedan to fill every receptive piece of me.

  My hands slipped down my torso, traveling farther down.

  “Keaton,” my mother softly knocked on the door, “you’re keeping our guest waiting.”

  I removed my hands from their descent and gripped either edge of the marble basin, sliding myself to sit upright in the garden tub.

  Without an invitation, my mother entered my private bathroom. The tapping of her heels flooded the bathroom with a chaotic noise as she passed the sink area, heading toward the tub.

  With her eyes wide with alert, she shook her head with contempt and propped a well-manicured hand on her hip. “Keaton! Get out of that tub and come meet our dinner guest. You’ve left him waiting long enough.”

  I dipped my chin down to my chest. My damp and wavy dark hair covered my face, concealing an expression I was sure she would’ve questioned. “I’m not feeling well.”

  “No one can blame you after all that’s happened.” She tucked her hands behind her back as she stood before the tub, dressed in her leisure best. Her dark hair was pinned up in a chignon, and her pale brown eyes were rimmed in dark brown kohl. Her turquoise silk jumpsuit—worn underneath a dark blue pinstriped blazer—made her beautiful bronze skin appear radiant.

  “I know how much you miss Sonja. It’s not good to wallow in grief. She was such a centered and warm person. She’d want you to go on with your life.” Pity creased her lips as she leaned forward, reaching out to move stray pieces of my jet black hair away from my face. “I didn’t raise you to be a victim of your circumstances.”

  “It’s not that. My stomach is a little upset.”

  “Braedan seems to pick up your mood every time he’s around.” She withdrew her hand as she carefully sat on the edge of the tub. Evidence of her disbelief over my confession of my physical illness was palpable. “I suppose I can send him up when you’ve gotten decent enough for his company.”