☆ ᴡᴀᴛᴛʏꜱ 2024 SHORTLISTER!! ☆
A tragic misunderstanding. A murder. A secret. An unlikely partnership. A spirited countess and an enterprising racketeer.
~~~
Manchester, England. May 1925.
The Roarin' 20s. An era of glamor, decadent parties, jazz mus...
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I can get a fuck whenever and wherever I want, love.
That was what he'd said to Rose Sinclair earlier that day. It was the truth. Women often came on to him. Even his brothers' wives. And while some weren't so bold and required a little coaxing, they never told him no.
Kitty Ross was proof of that.
Liam lit a cigarette and watched as Kitty made a show of smoothing her nude stocking up the length of her leg to her thigh and reattaching the garter. She did this on purpose. For him. She knew he liked it.
Pretending not to notice his lingering stare, she pivoted and began her adjustments to her other stocking, her movements languid and seductive. The smile she wore was coy.
He exhaled a plume of smoke and nodded in appreciation. The decision to turn her into his secretary had been a smart one. Liam had always known Kitty possessed talents far beyond the ability to sell herself, and making use of those talents was both effective and lucrative on his part. But no matter how long she worked in his office, there was still a little residue of whore on her. More covert now, more refined, but there for him when he had need of it. Like once after Clementine was killed. And now, with the appearance of Rose Sinclair.
Rose Sinclair.
Liam sniffed a silent laugh and took a seat at his desk. Had she witnessed the carnal exchange that just transpired in this room, she'd be red-faced and flustered. He could almost hear her sputtering in disapproval.
His liquor-fueled mind conjured the image of Miss Sinclair, an apparition among the solid surfaces of his office. She stood beside his bookshelves, her translucent face aghast. As she looked back and forth between Liam and Kitty, her pretty features contorted into an abashed scowl. “You're disgusting!” she announced, pointing her ghostly finger at him in accusation.
He chuckled to himself, blowing smoke at the apparition until she vanished.
The telephone rang. Kitty, in the midst of buttoning up the front of her dress, made to pick up the receiver.
“No, Kitty,” Liam said, holding up his hand to stop her. “You've been of enough service for one evenin', yeah? I got it.”
She gave him a knowing smile and retreated.
“Hello?” Liam said into the receiver.
An excitable voice assaulted his ear. “Will! Where ya been, brotha?”
Ransom.
Liam let out a small, frustrated noise as he held the handset away from his ear. His brother was not so much speaking as shouting, and the constant clamor in the background was deafening.
“You're ringin' me at the office, Ransom,” Liam said as he puffed on his cigarette. “So, obviously, I'm at the office.”
“I rang half an hour ago!” Ransom bellowed. He paused and the sound of sloshing liquid was heard over the line. “Where the bleeding hell were ya then?”
