Ivy’s pov
My back was pressed flush against Malachi’s chest, his arms a steel band around my waist, holding me captive.
I could feel the steady, mocking rhythm of his heartbeat against my spine; every nerve ending in my body was screaming as the feel of his lithe, hard, and warm body pressed against mine.
Gideon barely spared me a glance and swung his long legs over the side of the bed, the grey sheet clinging to his hips for one last torturous second before rolling off as he stood.
OH FUCK ME.
I couldn’t hold back the gasp that tumbled out of my lips as his cock bobbed against his thighs, making my cunt clench desperately. His brother chuckled behind me, and the sound crashed me right down to earth, reminding me that these were my enemies.
I shouldn’t be getting so aroused, my thighs growing slicker by the second watching Gideon’s muscles ripple deliciously as he stalked to the closet like this was perfectly normal.
Who was this stone-cold man?
I tried to step away, but Malachi’s arms tightened around my waist, holding me flush against his chest. His scent wrapped around me like lycra.
Heat flooded my face so fast I felt dizzy. I twisted in his grip, but he only chuckled and kept me pinned.
"Let go," I hissed under my breath.
"Not yet." Malachi’s lips brushed the shell of my ear. "My room still hasn’t been cleaned, you know. All those dirty sheets... a man could start feeling neglected."
Oh, your balls are about to feel neglected when I drive my feet into them.
My back arched when his teeth nipped at the tip of my ear, and something about the way he said those words made my stomach flip. The memory of elevator walls and a rough hand on my hip tried to surface in my head, but I shoved it down hard.
Dammit, I didn’t have time for this.
Gideon finally spoke, his voice flat and cold as ice as he grabbed on a white shirt. "Where’s Roman?"
Noooooo, every betraying cell in my body whined as the fabric slid over his bronze-sculpted body. Malachi’s grip loosened just enough for me to shove away from him. His eyes crinkled in laughter while he responded.
"Went to take care of the Harlem issue."
I used the distraction to slip free, nearly stumbling over my own feet.
"I-I’ll clean the rest of the east wing later," I mumbled, already backing toward the door. "Sorry about the clock, Mr. Knight. I’ll... I’ll replace it."
Neither of them stopped me. I didn’t look back until the heavy oak door clicked shut behind me. Only then did I lean against the wall, heart slamming against my ribs, thighs pressed tightly together, realizing I had left the cleaning cart inside the room.
"Smooth, Ivy, real freaking smooth," I groaned, slapping my right palm over my face.
I needed to find that ledger and get the hell out of this place... by any means necessary.
Seven days later, seven long, fruitless days of playing the perfect maid while searching the ridiculously huge mansion.
I’d searched the places that I could. Gideon’s study, his bedroom, even the ridiculously organized garage- seriously, who needed ten cars sitting pretty in a garage?! Nothing. The ledger my father wanted, the one document that could supposedly bring the Knight empire to its knees, was hiding somewhere.
"I’ll bet it’s in that thing," I grumbled, eyeing the sleek silver laptop sitting pretty on Gideon Knight’s very muscular thighs.
No one said working and being surrounded by three flaming hot men could turn my brain to mush, and god, it was. The twins were a handful, but the huge man sitting by the pool was a freaking machine.
My grip tightened around the broomstick in my hands when he leaned forward, thick dark hair falling over his chiseled face.
His sharp eyebrows furrowed while his long, thick fingers tapped rapidly on the black keyboard- all while he was wearing a full-on tailored suit.
In the afternoon sun.
By the pool.
"Who does that?" I grumbled, sinking my teeth in my bottom lip. The dark jacket of his suit was draped over the back of his chair, but the crisp white shirt was still buttoned to the collar, a stark contrast to the shimmering blue water.
How could I get to that laptop? He was practically glued to it. My eyes landed on the brown cup of coffee sitting on the small table beside his lounge chair. It was almost empty.
"Bingo."
Dropping the broom against the wall, I slipped back into the kitchen, my heart already thumping with adrenaline. This was crazy, and if I got caught, I could get flayed alive, but if it worked, then I could leave this house for good!
"Donna, where’s the fresh pot of coffee?"
She was the mansion chef and in her forties, her black hair all tucked neatly under her chef hat. She was such a chill woman with a false French accent that I was going to assume she had picked up at chef school or something.
She had helped me settle in better in the mansion than the lousy introduction Malachi and Roman had given me. There were other staff like the gardener Harry and pool boy Caruso, who I was yet to meet; Donna told me he only showed up twice in a month.
She eyed me over a mountain of chopped vegetables. "What do you need it for?"
"Mr. Knight," I hopped around her, scanning the marble counter for the pot of coffee. "He’s by the pool and his coffee cup is cold nd almost empty."
Donna’s eyebrows shot up. "Ah. I see. Be careful, chérie. That man does not like surprises. If he wants coffee, he’ll ask for it."
"Just looking out for my employer." My lips split in a grin as I grabbed the pot half-filled with hot coffee and headed out to the pool.
The flash drive I always kept in my apron swayed against my legs as my legs hit the ground outside the mansion. "It’s show time, baby."
He didn’t look up as I approached until I reached for the cup on the small brown table next to his seat, making him finally glance up, his sapphire eyes flashing mildly with annoyance.
"Would you like a refill, Mr. Knight?"
He gave a curt nod, turning back to his screen.
I picked up his cup, my hand deliberately shaking as I began to pour, swaying forward on purpose, just as a stream of hot, black coffee sloshed over the rim.
It splashed directly onto his pristine white shirt, seeping into the fabric in a dark, ugly stain.
"Oh, my God! I am so, so sorry, Mr Knight! I’m such a klutz!" I lunged forward, dabbing at the mess on his shirt with my fingers, getting closer to him, my hands brushing against his hard chest.
A low rumble filled his chest, sending sparks through my fingers. He leaned away from my hands and slowly closed his laptop, setting it aside.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-"
"It is fine, Miss Harpley," his voice flat, devoid of any emotion as he pushed up to his feet, towering over me. My thighs pressed together instinctively, and I had to stop my legs from stumbling back.
"I’ll get you a new shirt! A towel! Anything!" I babbled, my heart pounding.
"Do not worry about it," he said, already turning and walking back toward the house. He left his jacket, and most importantly, his laptop sitting right there on the lounge chair.
The second he was through the glass doors, I dropped the act. I scrambled over to the chair, my hands shaking as I opened the laptop. The screen glowed to life, asking for a password.
"Damn it," I muttered. Of course it was locked.
But I had a plan B. I pulled the small flash drive from my pocket, a little gift l had gotten to make my work easier. It was programmed to bypass security and download the entire contents of any hard drive it was plugged into. I jammed it into the USB port and a small window popped up.
Copying... 1%... 2%...
Come on, come on.
I watched the progress bar crawl, my eyes flicking between it and the house.
...95%... 96%... 97%...
Almost there. I was about to have it all. The secrets of the Knight empire, the proof my father needed, my ticket out of this hellhole, and my one ticket to getting everything I had worked hard for.
"Jake can suck all the dick he wants, he’s not taking Kingsley from me,"
99%...
"What are you doing?"