Nathaniel's P.O.V.

I wanted to follow her around all day like a stray dog, but unfortunately, I had other business to take care of, and she needed space—the very last thing I wanted to give her. I stared at her on the way down to the lobby memorizing everything inch of her body until her perfect image was burned in my skull. Looking at her alone was torture enough, especially when she dropped that damn towel, but when I had her body pressed against mine, and her round ass moved against my cock—christ, it was like she was testing to see how much restraint I had. I knew I looked like a fucking creep staring at her the way I was, but I wasn't going to take a single goddamn second for granted now that she was back after four long miserable years without her.

"I'll be out for the rest of the day, so Marsha will be taking over," I spoke before I continued staring at her like a lovesick fool.

A hint of relief flickered across her angelic face before she said, "Okay."

When the doors slid open, I let her walk out first so my eyes could drink her in one more time before I left. My fingers itched to squeeze her ass that was bouncing with every stride she took, and I had to force my hands in my pockets before I acted on that urge. Ripping my gaze from the mouthwatering view, I found Marsha sitting at the front desk typing out my schedule for the week.

"Am I taking over now?" She asked, popping up from her chair.

I nodded curtly before giving my attention back to Anastazi, whose brown eyes were dragging down my body...again. I fought the smart remark threatening to slip past my lips. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Can't wait," her voice dripped with sarcasm, and she gave me one of her many fake smiles.

I gazed down at her memorizing every inch of her face one last time before I forced my feet to move. My phone rang as soon as I was out of the building and climbing into my car. "Creed," I snapped, not bothering to check the Caller ID.

"Everyone's here," Liam informed me. He was my second in command and the only person I trusted to handle my other business while I was away running Phoenix Tech.

"I'll be there in ten," I said and hung up.

It wasn't just by mere luck my company became profitable in only a year and grew to be another billion-dollar business. After I sold Creed Industries and decided to start Phoenix Tech, the things I had to do to get to the top were unethical but getting my hands dirty was the small price I had to pay for success. Back then, I had nothing to lose, so I didn't give a fuck what I had to do, which is how I ended up taking my father's position after sending him to rot in prison and becoming the head of The League, one of the largest criminal organizations in the country disguised as just a legal group of powerful businessmen. When in actuality, I had the most crooked politicians, cops, lawyers, and humans in general in the palm of my hand.

I wasn't interested in prostitution, or the Sex Trafficking ring like my father was; he wanted to run The League like it was the mafia but me, I stayed far away from that shit, and the men that worked for me now knew that—well apparently not all which was why I set up this meeting to clear the fucking air. Clearly, Luther still had a few loyal soldiers I had to weed out.
Nothing pissed me off more than people disobeying my strict orders, especially when it took time away from being close to her. But once again, this was the price I had to pay. I pulled in front of the abandoned mansion I held all my meetings in thirty minutes later and climbed out, tucking the gun I kept hidden in the glove compartment in the waistband of my pants.

"Boss," one of the guards nodded while the other opened the front door, letting me inside.

"They're in the living room," Liam said lowly leading the way until we were standing in a room full of crooked businessmen and mindless soldiers.

A few of them were lounging on the couches with their legs resting on the coffee table, smoking and drinking like this was a fucking party. As soon as they noticed my presence, cigarettes were stubbed out, bottles of alcohol were put aside, legs dropped, and chattering ceased. When I first took this unwanted position, I quickly realized to survive at the top, you needed order, and respect came immediately after. I paced around the room, slowly watching all of their faces masked with fear of the unknown; I watched their chests rise and fall from their heavy breathing, fingers twitching and eyes darting around in anticipation. I pulled my gun out and flipped the safety off, pretending to admire it while fighting a smile when a few of them flinched back.

"What does The League do?" I finally asked, still pacing back and forth with my arms tucked behind my back, the gun between my fingers.

Silence greeted me, and I knew they weren't sure how to answer. I waited.

"Money laundering?" An unsure voice came from across the room, making me stop.

"Is that a question?" I tilted my head.

He coughed and fixed his answer. "No sir, we launder money through your clubs."

I nodded and continued walking around. "What else?"

"Arms trafficking."

"Stock manipulation."

They began firing off correct answers, not knowing where I was going with this. "And what are the two major activities The League doesn't take part in?" I asked, looking around the room, spotting the guilty face of the person I already knew would be punished. He was standing in front of me a few feet away. Luckily he was just some slimy investor that could easily be replaced with another; as to why Luther even bothered keeping him was beyond me. He avoided eye contact like the plague, sweat dripping from his red face and onto his white button-down.

"Number four." Most of them were assigned numbers because I couldn't be bothered learning the names of disposable men like him. Number four's eyes finally found their way to mine, and I smiled. "What are the two major activities The League doesn't take part in?"

He laughed nervously, trying to act innocent, but I was already aware of his repulsive crimes. I tapped my gun against my watch impatiently, letting him know I had no time for games. Number four swallowed hard.

"Prostitution and Sex Trafficking," he answered in a shaky voice.

"Prostitution and Sex Trafficking," I confirmed with a light chuckle. "So help me understand why Liam had to inform me about your recent purchase," I spat the words out, feeling my blood boil with rage, and the sick fucker had the audacity to look surprised as if I didn't have video evidence.

"What?" He gasped, holding both hands out defensively. "I have no idea what Liam's talking about. He must have me confused with someone else."

I held my hand out, and Liam walked over, dropping a phone in my palm with the video already pulled up. I shoved it in number four's face and watched all the color drain from his body as he took in the evidence of him walking a twelve-year-old girl out of a storage container. The most sickening part about the video was when he blatantly took the innocent girl on top of his car while she cried. No words would be able to accurately describe the feeling I felt when Liam showed it to me, all I saw was red.

"That isn't you?" I asked calmly, tossing the phone on the floor and crushing it beneath my shoe.

Number four flinched. "I can explain..."

Nothing needed to be fucking explained. I had my rules set in place for a reason and had zero, absolutely zero tolerance for people who couldn't follow them. If I myself could end sex trafficking and prostitution, I would, but that was beyond my control. What I could control, on the other hand, was how I proceeded to eliminate those who disobeyed strict orders. I hated getting my hands dirty...literally, but clearly, a message had to be sent, and I needed the rest of the men to see what would happen if they didn't abide by the rules.

"Please explain then," I gave number four more time to get his bullshit lie in order.

"She lured me there," he spoke fast. "And practically begged me to fu—"

Bang.

The bullet I put through his skull didn't allow him to finish his sentence, and the sound echoed around the room. Eyes still wide, number four's body dropped to the floor with a loud thud, and blood began oozing out of the hole in his head, staining the white marble floor. He didn't deserve the quick death I gave him, but my finger was too trigger-happy to stop. I stepped over his limp body, making sure not to get blood on my shoes, and walked to the front of the room, handing my gun to the cleaner whose partner was already wrapping the pathetic investor's body in plastic.

"If you don't want to end up like number four here," I nodded to the body being dragged out of the room. "I advise you follow the rules I set in place. This isn't the goddamned mafia, and I'm aware some of you may be used to different rules, but I am not my father. It's been three fucking years, so you should all know by now that I run this organization differently than he did. If I'm pulled out of my office again to take care of shit like this, I'll have you begging for quicker deaths."

"Yes, Boss," they all collectively said at once.

I walked out of the room without another word. The only thing keeping me sane was knowing I'd be seeing her again tomorrow—uninterrupted this time.

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A/N: This isn't going to turn into a mafia book for those wondering. It's still going to be the CEO trope thingy with just a SMALL HINT of illegal activity. Nothing major. xx