Hyland's Property: The Rage and Revenge series., #1

Sign up for my newsletter and receive FREE sexy reads here!

https://felicitybrandonwrites.com/newsletter/

Find Your Darkness.

Revel In It.

Prologue

Sean Hyland

ZANDER HYLAND WAS DEAD. Not just dead but murdered—shot to pieces by the bastards that ran The Syndicate, or more specifically, one bastard, in particular, Saul Morrison. My hands balled into fists at the thought of the smug wanker strutting around London as if he owned the fucking city while my uncle was cold in the mortuary. I hated him. I loathed him for shooting Zander, for obliterating the only role model I’d truly had, but just as keenly, I despised him for bringing me back to the odious city.

I’d left London years ago, heading for the Riviera and applying every trick my uncle had taught me. It hadn’t taken long before I’d had Nice at my feet, hordes of gorgeous, scantily-clad French women throwing themselves at me, men I trusted at my disposal, and enough money to afford those fast cars I’d always had my eye on. I took what Zander had started and developed the Continental division until everyone knew the fucking Hyland name.

They knew it, and they trembled at hearing it.

Nice had been my home, the only place I’d really loved, and now, thanks to Morrison, I was back in the gray shithole I’d fought so hard to leave behind. Staring out the window of my private jet, I watched the monotonous rain lashing at the glass. London. It was just as I recalled it—just as grim and tedious, just as hopeless. In Zander’s absence, the gang he’d kept so tightly leashed had unraveled, and they needed me. Many of them had been wiped out in the same attack that had taken out Zander. The details were sketchy, but I knew it was Morrison who’d pulled the trigger.

I knew I was going to make that fucker pay.

Ready to disembark, Mr. Hyland?

I turned at the grating voice of the air stewardess. She was pretty enough—they always were—but beneath the thick layer of make-up, she looked just as worn and tired as the rest of this depressing city.

Sure. I rose from my seat, grabbing my briefcase and ignoring the way she batted her eyelashes. I had no time for a woman right now. There were men to regroup, vengeance to enact, and an empire to rebuild. Is my car waiting?

It’s on the tarmac, Sir. She flashed a smile. I already had your luggage transferred.

Thanks. I flung the word at her, an afterthought as I stepped into the English rain. Grimacing, I made my way down the steps toward the waiting Mercedes. Fuck, I hated this country. I couldn’t wait to bring things to order and get back to the French sunshine, champagne, and sex. I’d always preferred things to be sophisticated and cultured, and that’s what the French coast offered me—the privileges my family name afforded in the most beautiful of backdrops.

Welcome home, Sir.

Thank you. I nodded to the driver as I slid into the back seat and slammed the door. Take me straight to Zander’s place.

Yes, Sir. May I be the first to offer my condolences? Your uncle was a great man. His head lowered. He’s greatly missed.

What’s your name? I stared at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. It definitely wasn’t a face I recognized.

It’s Cole, Sir, he replied. Maurice Cole. I worked with Mr. Hyland for years, right up until the last day.

Thank you, Cole. I smiled at the emotion in his tone. Loyalty like that was difficult to find and almost impossible to buy. I’m looking for a good driver now I’m back in the country. Do you fancy the job?

Cole glanced over his shoulder. I’d be honored, Sir, thank you.

Good, that’s settled, I decided. Take me into the city, please. It’s time to get the wheels turning. Oh, and stop at one of those coffee shops, will you? I’m desperate for more caffeine.

The heavily made-up stewardess had already offered me more coffee than I should have indulged in for the day, but I never could get enough of anything I wanted.

Of course, Mr. Hyland. He smiled, starting the engine. It’s good to have you home.

I glanced out the darkened window as we pulled away, amused someone was glad I was here.

Chapter One

Hilary Mantle

CHECKING MY HAIR ONE final time, my gaze shifted to the reflection of the huge king-sized bed in the mirror. My boss, Saul Morrison, was sitting in it, his brow rising as our gazes met.

Are you sure you have to go so soon? He threw me one of those devastating smiles that made the muscles between my legs all clench at the same time.

Yeah, I’m late for work, and my boss will tan my hide if he finds out.

Saul laughed at my quip. I reckon he might give you the day off if you come over here and ask him nicely. One dark eyebrow rose at his assertion. Especially if you ask on your hands and knees.

I ran my tongue over my teeth, imagining dropping to my knees and enjoying the things he had in mind. It was a tempting prospect. Saul and I had been dating for a few weeks, and even though bedding my boss was a dangerous game to play, the sex was fantastic. He was older than the men I usually went for, but that just made him better—more experienced, more considerate, and seemingly, it hadn’t affected his stamina one iota.

I’d love to, Sir... I paused, remembering the huge pile of work waiting for me on my desk.

But? Saul sighed, sensing where the conversation was going.

But I haven’t been in for three days, Saul, and the work isn’t going to do itself. I rose from the stool of the vanity unit and wandered to where he was stretched out on the bed. My gaze raked over his firm body, stalling at the erection straining to be free of his shorts, and fleetingly, I wondered if I was making the right decision. I can come back later and help you with that, though. If you’d like?

Oh, I’d like. Saul was on his feet in a heartbeat, towering over me. But only if you’re sure. I know you have a life outside of me and The Syndicate, Hilary. I respect that. He reached for the side of my face, caressing my cheek, and my eyes fluttered closed.

How many days had it been since I’d gone back to my apartment? I could barely remember. Saul had everything I needed right here, and anything I requested was delivered in hours.

I’d like, too, I whispered. I’ll pop home and grab more clothes.

You won’t need them, he promised, his lips grazing mine. I promise to keep you naked and satisfied.

Saul, I moaned as his lips shifted to my lobe. You’re not making it easy to get to work. Someone has to manage your diary while you lounge around all day.

He chuckled into the side of my nape just as one large hand slapped my skirt-covered backside playfully. I’d never relished being spanked before I’d bedded Saul, but he had taken me over his lap numerous times in the last few weeks, and I’d bloody loved all of them. The flesh beneath my office skirt tingled with the swat, sending electricity to my throbbing clitoris.

Don’t push your luck, he growled. Or maybe I’ll have to lift that pretty skirt and spank you in my office.

My eyes flew open at the delicious thought, his face rising to meet my gaze.

"That sounds like fun, Sir..."

You are fucking insatiable. He sniggered. But I have to admit, it sounds good. I never understood all the BDSM shit Connor and Dalton raved about, but you, Hilary, you make things so much clearer. With you, I want those things. You’re delicious.

Same here.

It was early days to be proclaiming long-term intentions, particularly to the man who signed my paycheck, but I couldn’t believe how aligned we seemed to be. Saul was smart, respectful, attractive, and in control.

How had I been so damn lucky?

Maybe I’ll come to the office with you. He glanced around the room, his gaze landing on the large clock behind him. It was almost half-past nine already. We can both catch up before we play.

That sounds good, I agreed. But I should go first. I have a mountain of work to tackle.

And we wouldn’t want anyone seeing us arrive together, would we? His tone was sardonic.

It’s not that, I insisted, but it was. Even though we’d been sleeping together for weeks, and it was likely half The Syndicate already knew, I couldn’t face the inquiring glances and the questions. Today, I just wanted to put my head down and catch up, so I could enjoy the weekend with Saul.

It’s okay, he chuckled, running his fingers through my hair before he planted a chaste kiss on my forehead. Go now, and I’ll follow. Want me to get you a car?

No, Sir, I sighed theatrically. "I’ll take the tube, like everyone else.

Are you sure? I’m happy to get a driver for you.

I’m sure. I’ve been traveling by tube since I was sixteen, Saul.

I know, but now that you’re linked to me, things are different. His thumb stroked my skin tenderly. A man like me has enemies. It might not be safe for you.

I rolled my eyes at his appraisal. "Didn’t you shoot your biggest enemy, Sir?"

His eyes narrowed at my sarcastic tone. Yes, but there are others, Hilary. Our organization has a lot of fingers in a lot of pies, and just keep up that attitude, and I’ll make sure I convene all my men to witness me spank your pretty arse later.

A shot of energy ran up my spine at his threat, pooling as arousal between my thighs.

I’m sorry, I murmured, reaching for his forearm. I’m just saying, I’ll be fine, and anyway, we’re not together, are we?

He drew away, and just for a second, there was a flicker of hurt in his eyes.

I mean, I love the time we spend together. You’re great, the sex is amazing, but I’m just saying, we’re not getting married or anything.

Saul’s expression relaxed. No, he agreed with a smile. No marriage proposals on the horizon just yet, but I do enjoy spending time with you. I want more of it. He edged closer, pressing his body against mine. Much more.

Me, too.

I rose to my tiptoes to capture his lips, and growling, he pulled me flush against him as our bodies fused.

Chapter Two

Sean

GLANCING AT MY WATCH, my attention returned to the crowded London streets. It was even busier than I remembered when I was a teenager. Crawling through the near-stationary traffic was doing nothing to alleviate my caffeine-habit. Irritated, I searched the nearby shop fronts for any sign of a coffee vendor, and up ahead, I noticed an independent coffee house, Maisy’s.

Stop here for a moment, I instructed. There’s a place I can grab a drink.

"I’m sure I can