Deviant Hacker (Audiobook)

A Mafia Underboss Kidnapped Me.

The moment Declan O’Malley laid eyes on me the universe shifted. His inked muscles, seductive confidence, and bad boy vibes lured me to him. He’s twice my age. He’s experienced.

Now I’m in a dark cell. Bound. Cold. Helpless.

He’s determined to turn me into his obedient little captive until I convince him I’ve told him the truth.

The spark burns hotter, the hunger between us electric.

When he demands I call him daddy, more confusion reigns over me.

I should hate him, instead of wanting to submit.

Yet all I crave is his deviant touch.

Declan O’Malley

There's no hiding from the truth. It's something I've believed my entire life and still do. Yet the day I stepped into who I really was and embraced my true O'Malley roots, I learned a hard lesson.

My entire life, my moral compass had been a lie. I was a killer and not just any kind. I could extend a man's life until he was begging me to steal his last breath. Every second of torturing him, I got off on. All I could see is the wrong he had done. I became the judge, jury, and executioner.

There was no going back. Once I started, I couldn't stop. The same holds true now. If a man harms my family, there’s no limit to what I will do to avenge his wrongdoing.

Rules and boundaries no longer exist. The deeper I sink into my family's issues, the more I only care about making sure our clan is protected. Any enemy we have, we're clear on, and I'm prepared at all times to take them down.

I never lose sleep over it, except for now. For the first time, I don't know who our enemy is.

Several months have passed since an anonymous reporter has been publishing stories about Jack Christian's company. It went public, and we've been implementing the plan Liam and Finn concocted in prison to bankrupt it. We shorted the stock, so we'll make money when the price drops, but whoever this reporter is, they’re intentionally trying to destroy everything we've orchestrated.

I've hacked into every server I can to find out who this guy is that is derailing the billions we planned on making. It leads me nowhere. He's a ghost, and night after night he stays hidden.

Every financial news outlet he posts his articles on, I'm tracking. The wall of my office is covered in computer screens with real-time data coming in. All I keep doing is digging, trying to find something to lead me to him.

It always led me to more dead ends—until tonight.

It's around three in the morning. The screen on the wall beeps, and a new article gets uploaded. I trace the location of the guy's IP address.

"Got you!"

I practically run to the wall and peer closer. The location is an apartment building sixteen blocks away. I snap a photo of the location with my phone, and the location disappears.

I have to give this bastard some credit. He knows what he's doing and is a master at covering his tracks. But not this time. I've found him, and he's going to pay for harming my family.

I grab my bag from the garage shelf and get in my SUV.

My heart races the entire time I'm driving. It's pouring down rain, dark, and there is barely any traffic. When I get to the apartment, I switch my tracker on my phone. It'll pinpoint exactly where this guy is from his IP address that I now have.

Blood slams into my skull, and adrenaline pumps harder, racing through my veins. I open my bag and put chloroform on a rag, then shove it in my coat pocket. Whoever this guy is, he's going to die by my hands, but not until I torture every last piece of information he has out of him. I slide my black gloves on and get out of the car.

The apartment complex is in a dangerous neighborhood and rough. The lock to the front door of the building is busted, and I walk right in. There are no security cameras which only makes my job easier.

I climb three flights of stairs. When I get to the unit, I pick the lock. It's cheap and only takes a few seconds. I slowly turn the knob and creep through the apartment.

It's cold as if the heat isn't on. Everything is dark like outside, except for one room that has a green glow. I make sure I don't make a noise and peek past the door frame.

Several computer screens sit on a table. The guy wears a black hoodie. He types quickly. Even from the back of him, I can tell he's smaller than me. I'm not going to have any issue carrying him out of here. I grip the chloroform rag and slide it out of my pocket along with the cloth bag I brought.

I sneak behind him, put the bag over his head, and cover his mouth with the chloroform.

He attempts to struggle but quickly passes out. His laptop is connected to the screens so I yank the cords and shove it in my backpack. Then I remove the dark blanket out of my backpack, wrap it around him, and toss his limp body over my shoulder. I leave the building the same way I came, feeling fortunate it's raining so hard, and this guy doesn't weigh a ton.

I leave him wrapped in the blanket, put him in my back seat, and am back in my garage within a few minutes.

I've never taken anyone I kidnapped to my house before. But I've stewed over this for months.

My assumption is this isn't our typical enemy. Whoever this guy is, he's smart. He knows things about us, or he wouldn't be doing this. Or, someone is paying him, and that's an entire other scenario that may require just as much interrogation. Plus, he might have some skills I don't. If so, he's going to show me before I kill him.

Night after night, I've obsessed over this guy, wanting to know who he is, why he's messing with my family, and who else may be behind this. He's screwed with the wrong person. And I’ve prepared for this dickhead. I turned a small part of my basement into a cell. I'll keep him alive for months and torture him daily if needed.

I sling him over my shoulder once again and enter my house. I go down the basement steps and into the cell. There's a cheap mattress on the ground and a toilet. I installed restraints in the cement block wall. Nothing else exists.

My pulse continues to increase. I lay him on the mattress, unwrap the blanket, and clasp the cuffs around his thin wrists.

Jesus, does this guy eat?

Maybe he's only a teenager?

My stomach flips at the thought, but then I remind myself he's screwing with my family. I take a deep breath, ready to see who this man is who has the balls to try and fuck the O'Malleys.

I slide the hood off his face and freeze.

Am I seeing things?

My heart beats so fast I clutch it, staring down at a young woman.

Not just any woman.

A lass with the face of an angel. A co-ed who has been in the pub, sitting on my lap, and flirting with me.

She never came back. All these months, I’ve looked for her, but she’s never again appeared.

She's innocent.

She can't be. She has intentionally been sabotaging our family.

She stirs, and a small whimper fills the air. I continue to stare, in a trance, fixated on whoever this creature is in front of me, chained to my wall.

Her blue eyes flutter open. When she fully comes to, she recognizes me, and fear registers all over her face. She tries to move her arms then realizes she's trapped. In a desperate move, she tries to kick me in the balls.

My instincts take over. I lunge on top of her, pinning her further to the mattress and stopping her from having any ability to move her legs.

It's the wrong move. Heat creeps into her porcelain cheeks, the same way it did when I flirted with her in the pub. A lock of her dark hair falls on her face and I force myself not to tuck it behind her ear. Her hot breath merges with mine, and I curse myself for getting a hard-on. She glances at my lips then repins her frightened gaze on me.

I jump off her, race upstairs, and pour three fingers of whiskey, downing it in three mouthfuls.

Jesus. How can it be her?

I should take her to Liam and have him deal with her.

No. She sought me out at the pub. She's not going anywhere until I find out every single thing about her.

I sit down at the computer. For the rest of the night, I watch her through the cameras I installed earlier this past week. It may be dark in the cell, but the system I installed makes it look like the lights are on. Every move she makes I see. I wonder who she is and why she came into my pub. If Finn hadn’t killed a man and Liam hadn’t come to get Killian and I that night, there’s no doubt I would have asked her out. I would have refrained from taking her home that evening until I took her on a nice date first.

Did she even tell me her real name?

Several minutes pass and she looks directly at the camera. Those same damn eyes that got me at the pub register on my screen. I peer closer, mesmerized by her and wondering how I’m going to get the information I need.

She’s a woman. I’ve never hurt any female before.

She’s the enemy, I remind myself. But then I think about all the ways I’d get information out of a man. Everything makes me cringe when I consider doing it to her.

By the time morning comes, I’m no less conflicted and there aren’t any solutions. My only hope is she’ll break easily from the mere suggestion of pain. I avoid thinking about what I’ll do if she doesn’t.

I’m in over my head. I should call my brothers, Liam, or Finn and have them weigh in on what to do about this situation.

Yet I don’t. All I do is continue to stare at my enemy with an angel's face.