WED TO THE DOM Read online

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

  WED TO THE DOM: Heaven’s Veil MC copyright 2017 by Zoey Parker. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

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  Contents

  WED TO THE DOM: Heaven’s Veil MC

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  GIFT FROM THE HITMAN: The Petrov Mafia

  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

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  GIFT FROM THE BAD BOY: Dark Knights MC

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Books by Zoey Parker

  GIFT FROM THE BAD BOY: Dark Knights MC

  KILLIAN: The O'Donnell Mafia

  GUNNER: The Immortal Devils MC

  BOUGHT BY THE BAD BOY: A Dark Mafia Romance

  STARSTRUCK: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (The Destroyers MC)

  HIS POSSESSION: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Vicious Thrills MC)

  HIS PLAYTHING: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Voodoo Devils MC)

  HIS PROPERTY: Iron Bandits MC (A Bad Boy Baby Romance)

  UNCHAINED: Metal Monsters MC

  UNTAMED: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

  UNDRESSED: Soul Catchers MC

  UNPROTECTED: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Hanley Family Mafia)

  Addicted: A Secret Baby Romance (Rebel Saints MC)

  OWN HER: A Dark Mafia Romance (Mancini Family Mafia)

  HARDCORE: Storm MC

  A Price to Pay

  Take Me, Outlaw

  Break Me, Outlaw

  Stolen

  Overdosed

  Ravage

  Bounty

  Trouble

  Monster

  INKED ANGELS: A Bad Boy Romance Box Set

  Zoey Parker Mailing List

  WED TO THE DOM: Heaven’s Veil MC

  By Zoey Parker

  HE WON’T REST UNTIL I BELONG TO HIM.

  I didn’t ask to be stalked, harassed, threatened.

  Too bad the demons on my trail don’t care what I want.

  I hire Dante to protect me from the bad men…

  But it turns out he might be the worst one of them all.

  Katia

  I’m desperate for anyone to protect me.

  They’re closing in – whoever they are.

  Coming closer and closer every night, leaving signs, making threats.

  It’s a nightmare – except I can’t wake up.

  There has to be someone who can save me from the stalkers who want my body.

  I thought Dante would be that someone.

  He certainly looks the part:

  Tall, tatted, with that “don’t even look at me sideways” scowl on his face.

  Not to mention the muscles bulging beneath his leather jacket.

  But something in his eyes tell me Dante is just as hungry as the others.

  And now that he’s in my home…

  He won’t rest until I’m his.

  Dante

  She wanted my protection.

  I agreed – at first.

  But now that I’ve gotten a look at her, I can’t settle for keeping my distance.

  I need to taste her myself.

  We can do it the easy way or the hard way.

  But no matter what Katia chooses, she’s going to be mine by the end of the night.

  My sub.

  My woman.

  My wife.

  Chapter One

  Katia

  I yawned as I slid into the executive leather chair behind my new Parnian desk. My MacBook Air was opened, my emails were loading, and the scent of vanilla-caramel cappuccino wafted enticingly through the air. Closing my eyes, I put my hand out on the keyboard and listened.

  My lips curled into a smile as I heard exactly what I’d been waiting for. Nothing. That perfect silence was the most beautiful thing I could ever imagine.

  It was moments like this that convinced me everything had been worth it. All of the pageants, the posturing, and the endless dieting and starving to become the ideal, skinny, smiling doll had been worth it.

  Because now I was alone. Now I was living in a perfect, tastefully furnished condo that I’d paid for in cash. I was twenty-seven and living the life that most people don’t ever get to experience, or at least not until their retirement.

  Being a former beauty queen definitely had its perks, all right. Sure, I still had to make sure never to eat more than a thousand calories per day, five hundred if I was doing something public within the next week. But overall, I was proud of my success. I’d basically come from nothing, and I’d worked my way up, beauty pageant after beauty pageant. I guess a lot of people think that once you win Miss Homegrown Junior Dallas, you’re off to a world of success. God, if they only knew the truth.


  After reaching for my cappuccino, I blew on the milky steam floating on top of the espresso. Until my assistant, Anya, had told me that it was sugar-free, I never would have guessed. Taking a small sip, I let the delicious caffeine flood over my tongue and seep into my cells.

  “What do we have here?” I drawled quietly as I looked at the screen and set the mug down on a little coaster I’d picked up in London. It was antique green glass, with little threads of gold running through the material.

  Of all my successes, I was the proudest of my home. I’d decorated the whole thing from top to bottom, and I’d picked out each and every piece myself. No stylist could claim this, I thought smugly as I looked around the room. Every inch was perfectly designed by Ms. Katia Reynolds.

  My MacBook pinged, alerting me that I had mail. I groaned when I saw the little red number in the corner of my screen. Fifty-one unread emails, and that was all in the past three hours!

  I began to skim through them. There wasn’t a lot to read, really. Mostly advertisements from my favorite stores—Sephora, Bloomingdales, Barney’s New York. Lots of sales. After a few moments, I started wondering whether or not I should go shopping later in the day. It had been ages since I’d bought anything nice or new for myself—about two weeks.

  After going through the ads, I frowned. There was an email with an attachment from an address I didn’t recognize. By itself, this wasn’t particularly unusual. After all, I gave out cards to people I met containing my email address, just in case they wanted to hire me or book me for a gig. It hadn’t happened in a while, since I’d taken a little break from working, but I was interested all the same.

  The email address didn’t have a name as it was one of those anonymous ones with all letters and numbers in front of the stamp. I rolled my eyes. A Gmail address, for a professional inquiry? How amateur.

  Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

  “Eek!” I jumped at the sound of my phone vibrating across the wooden desk. “God,” I mumbled as I reached for my iPhone. “What the hell is wrong with you, girl? Spending too much time inside?” I asked myself as I swiped my finger across the screen and held the shiny phone up to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  There was no answer. I frowned. Maybe someone had called me by mistake? Like a butt dial? I tried to rationalize, but there wasn’t any of the accompanying static that I normally heard when I got one of those calls.

  “Hello?” I tried again. “Who is this?”

  Still no answer. Biting my lip, I rolled my eyes and hung up the phone. Seconds later, the phone rang again.

  “Hello?” I asked. Again, there was no answer and no static.

  “Look,” I said sharply, “you’re gonna have to say something and introduce yourself, okay? Who is this?”

  Silence. I pulled the phone away from my ear, put it on speaker, and looked at the screen for the number. When I realized it said unknown, I sighed and slammed the phone down on the table.

  “This isn’t funny,” I muttered through my teeth. “I’m hanging up now.”

  As I reached for the red cancel icon, there was a sound coming from the receiver. It wasn’t static, though; it was heavy, paced. Like someone breathing. With a cry of disgust, I hung up and threw the phone across the room.

  God, what a weird morning, I thought as I took another sip of my delicious, sugar-free cappuccino. People are so desperate and weird.

  Thinking about the email again reminded me to turn back to my computer. When I did, I saw a few sentences. They read:

  Hey, Katia! Just wanted to pass this along, thought you might enjoy. My company is interested in hiring you as our model. This is the preliminary sketch.

  That’s funny, I thought as I scanned the three lines over and over again. There was no signature or company logo in the email. I didn’t remember meeting anyone recently who could have sent this, but it wasn’t totally outside the realm of normality. After all, I was a pretty big name. Not quite celebrity status outside of L.A., but still, pretty big.

  I licked my lips. Everyone had always told me never to open an attachment from an unknown source. I knew that was how people got hacked and how computer viruses spread. But this MacBook was brand new, so I hadn’t saved any personal photos or data yet. And I couldn’t help it. I was so curious. Especially since I could tell that it was a picture. Maybe it’s the product or brand logo? I clicked on the photo and waited for it to load.

  When I saw it, my jaw dropped, my cheeks burned, and my eyes began to sting, and I had no control over my reactions. It was like someone had taken over my body and made me mute.

  I slammed the lid of my laptop down, trying to forget what I’d just seen. It had been a drawing all right, a poorly drawn image of me. I was reclining on my back, legs spread, with a seductive look on my face.

  The delicious coffee taste in my mouth turned to bile as I stared at my desk, suddenly horrified and panicked. Anxiety was flooding my limbs, and my heart was pounding.

  Shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

  With shaky legs, I got up and walked into the kitchen. I had no idea what my first action should be. Obviously, I had someone who was just a little too interested in Katia Reynolds. Sometimes I had to deal with harassment both in the streets and online, but this just felt too creepy. How could someone like that have gotten my email address?

  I knew, right then and there, that I’d have to make a list of who I’d given my contact information to. My heart was still pounding as I opened the double doors to my fridge and took out a single-serve bottle of sparkling wine. As my fingers fumbled with the cap, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I’d been practicing yoga for years, and my yogini, Arielle, was always telling me that I had to learn how to relax.

  “This is probably nothing,” I said out to loud myself as I inhaled deeply. “This is just a messy situation, and you’re creeped out. But your condo is secure—no one is going to find a way in. Just take deep breaths and have some wine and everything will be back to normal by the time you open your eyes.”

  If only I could have known how bad things were going to get.

  Chapter Two

  Dante

  “Come to fuckin’ order!” Our sergeant at arms, Tristan, banged his fist against the broad wooden table emblazoned with our emblem. The logo was a skull with flames around his head, holding a scythe. He was grinning. Whenever I saw the emblem, I couldn’t help but grin, too.

  Growing the Heaven’s Veil was, so far, the biggest accomplishment of my life to date. I’d grown up in different towns around California. L.A. was nothing like them. It was a fantasy world. When I started Heaven’s Veil with a couple of kids I knew from around town, it made my life pretty fuckin’ fantastic.

  Tristan, Troy, and I had been friends for years. And then they really stepped up to the plate. Tristan was the best sergeant that I could think of, and I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else behind me than Troy. He was hard as nails and had a sharp mind. I may have been the leader of the Heaven’s Veil MC, but Troy had been the brains of the club from the beginning.

  “Y’all!” I yelled, looking out at my men. “Shut the fuck up. We’re here for a meeting, not a damn social hour!”

  Troy nodded. He glanced around the room, growling under his breath like an animal. Finally, his gaze came to rest on me. “What’s up, boss?”

  I sighed. “Took you long enough,” I shot back. “We’ve got some issues, folks.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my packet of cigarettes. As I lit one, I looked at each and every one of my men. They were good guys. Sometimes they’d stray a little too far from the beaten path, but overall, I knew I could trust them with my life.

  “What’s going on?” Troy leaned forward as I tossed the pack of smokes to him. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and inhaled deeply. “Something bad?”

  I sighed. “I didn’t wanna be the one to bring this up. I was really hoping that I’d have a chance to turn things ‘round before I had to mention it, but yeah, shit ain’t grea
t right now, guys. The decision to cut back on the drugs and gunrunning is really hurting us. Right now, we’ve only got about two thousand in the bank after paying our bills this month, and that don’t count towards anything that might come up.” I paused and ran a hand through my unruly dark hair. “We gotta think of something.”

  “What about getting back into guns?” Tristan leaned over the table, his muscular arms bulging. “That was really sweet. Tons of money for not much work.”

  I nodded. “I’ve thought about that. But the cops are still cracking down hard on all the clubs around here. Shit, the Green Demons lost their leader and sergeant last week. Both are going to the big pen for years, probably five to ten at this point. We can’t take that risk right now.”

  Tristan snorted. Another one of the guys, Marlo, leaned close. “Boss, what if we do it real careful, y’know? Make sure we don’t get caught.” He chuckled deviously, and some of the other guys started snickering along.

  “I can’t take that risk,” I said. “We lost our contact over at the LAPD. Officer Beatty’s gone now, and we won’t be able to pull someone close like we did with him for a long-ass time. We gotta start taking care of ourselves, and that means putting the Bones first.”

  Troy nodded. “What about close-in work?”

  “You mean pushing drugs to those college kids?”

  Troy shook his head. “No,” he said patiently. “I mean body-work. Guarding, maybe a little protection.” He raised his eyebrows. “We’re in L.A. after all. Aren’t there tons of rich people who need that shit?”