Chapter 36

Javier Longbottom, Tyler's distant cousin, reared back in his chair, glancing at the naked girls fanning out in all directions from the main room at his clubhouse. Extra young women had been brought in for tonight’s celebrations because a dozen of them hadn’t been enough to handle all the men on hand. This bullshit was the reason Elizabeth Grant left with her whiny ass friend early this afternoon. It stunned the hell out of Javier how he admired the beauty of other girls but only wanted to fuck one in particular. It was no secret that he was obsessed with Elizabeth Grant or anyone that had been on his cousin Tyler's radar.

Despite his hatred for Sir Anthony, their beloved grandfather, and his hatred for Tyler, his obsession with his woman remained. And now that he has married his secretary, it won't be long before Javier needs to do something about it. For now, Elizabeth was his top priority. After all, the bitch had been concocting a plan to wreak havoc on Tyler Johnson's life, and he wanted nothing but to see the bastard on his knees and take all the spoon-fed wealth in his own hands.

He couldn’t even imagine laying a hand on any other bitch now that he had Elizabeth. She’d turned his life upside down from the day they met, and he'd been obsessed with her. Not only did she stand up to him, but she also stood up for him. She saw him as a man worthy of devotion. Of course, he knew the bitch was just trying to win his heart, but how could he deny her? The girls seemed too disturbed to even look at him, with his massive bulging muscles, 6 foot 8 height, and his ugly scar on his face and cracked nose, but Elizabeth was different. She looked at him as if he deserved wild-night passion, and she also knew how to fuck him very well.

Javier's men's laughter rang out, and he saw John leaning on the bar, his second-best man, a heavy giant of a dark-coloured man, chatting up two tall, black-haired whores. Elizabeth had turned John's life upside down, too. He was the huge fucking giant in the room, always hovering between her and Javier. Tough shit. She was Javier’s, and that was that. Not to say he didn’t wish John shitloads of bloody happiness—he did. Just as long as he kept his sophisticated bullshit, preppy massive fucking look, and smooth shitty words away from his woman.

Javier tasted his rum, wishing like a motherfucker he’d convinced Elizabeth to stay and wondering why the hell she hadn’t called him yet. She’d been gone two bloody hours, twenty-two minutes, and—he glanced at his watch—five seconds. He pulled at his hair. Maybe she had a fucking shopping spree, not that he cared about using his black card. If she’d stayed, everybody would have noticed his possessive, fucking attitude towards her. Just because she had him crushed, like—paranoid—and, yea, one could say a little insecure, didn’t mean he wouldn’t waver to do his duty to keep men in line who dared to touch his Elizabeth.

Take now, for example. His men had ignored Javier's loyalty and devotion to Elizabeth. Maybe some of the others didn’t know how much of a weakness Elizabeth was for him—but his men in his club knew. So why did strange bitches keep coming up to him, offering a dick suck or a quick fuck?

He was getting more pissed by the minute; his tone aggravated because he hadn’t heard from Elisabeth at all today. He became more rude and harsh as a motherfucker. He was still him. Had she gotten tired of it and taken this chance to leave him? With Elizabeth? Maybe he was just being stupid as he wished for a normal life? Hell, there was no normal in his life. Being the black sheep of the elite Longbottom and the one who made havoc amongst the rich—kidnapping, drugs—you name it, he had it. And no such scumbag could ever change him.

You’re fucking losing it. He thought to himself that, of course, Elizabeth was his new girl. He had met her two years before she dated Tyler, and, no, when his cousin got himself into marriage, she ended up planning some havoc for Johnson and offered him a fifty-fifty share. Could he deny her? Of course not.

But he was losing it, wasn't he? She was tougher now. She’d gotten her confidence after Tyler and even talked about drugs and killing. Some of his men saw how pleased he was and already had old ladies and kids on the way. Elizabeth had made friends with a lot of the new girls in the club. And though she stayed out of legal official club business, she’d managed to stick a frayed club back together. They commemorated things, even his birthday. Did more than throw pussy and assignments at recently mended members from the sidelines. They were a feared gang again, brothers in every sense of the word. Because of her, because he was sure as hell didn’t have an explanation of what the hell a family gang did, his parents despised him, and his own sisters disliked and ignored him.

All Javier knew about families was that they blamed him for shit that couldn’t be controlled—by them or him—and they didn’t stick around in times of need. Yet with Elizabeth, his bitch had become the walls of this club. He had given them enough sense to stop killing each other, and he knew that whatever she requested, they would do it. Even if it involved the mighty billionaire Tyler Johnson,

"Hey, boss, why are you sitting in this big leather chair looking like you just lost your best fucking girl?" John pulled up a chair, seized from a close table. He’d cut his blonde dreads, and now they just touched his shoulders. It seemed as if the man was stepping out of his brother’s shadow and, little by little, changing his hair. He couldn’t do all with his face, though. He has an extraordinary resemblance to Shrek, just a little leaner and taller. "Fuck off to hell, John."

He glowered at John. "Oh well, man..." I don’t have to do things if I don’t bloody feel like it."

A tall girl walked up to him and patted John’s cheek. Shrek knocked his woman's hand away.

"Stop! Whore! I don’t want your hands on my pretty face."

Javier laughed, wearing his trademark gang ring and diamond ear studs. "Such a pussy."

John shrugged. "Of course I like pussy." He signalled another girl over. Her face was as round as her body, and John checked her out from head to toe. "Isn't it lovely? Want her, boss? She was one fine motherfucker, yes?"

She chuckled, and Javier rolled his eyes. Give him the strength not to kill the girl. He already hated her giggle.

After John gave the girl his direction, he went behind Javier and leaned his arms on the top of the office chair. Clearly, this was some fucking indication, because the rest of the group joined the group. "More kidnapping, boss?" John asked. Javier nodded, as he supposed if his men hadn’t been getting fucked, they would’ve joined him too, and then he’d have all his mob at his side. As if he needed baby-fucking-sitting.

"When?" John asked. He thrust his chin out to one of the girls, ordering the Asian one, without words, to give up his seat. Once he sat down, he drew out a bud, lit it, took a couple of puffs, and began passing it around. "Are you not enjoying your day, boss?"

"No. I'm not enjoyin’ my fuckin’ day," he snapped and rolled his eyes, "not until Elizabeth returns."

"Boss, want me to trace her phone?" John asked.

"You smart? Huh! Bloody, no! She'll kill you."

"Where was she going anyway?"

"To Tyler’s doctor," he smirked and winked at John.