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Ruthless Desires Prequel: Ruthless Desires, #0.5
Ruthless Desires Prequel: Ruthless Desires, #0.5
Ruthless Desires Prequel: Ruthless Desires, #0.5
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Ruthless Desires Prequel: Ruthless Desires, #0.5

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A sweet barista. Three revenge-bent hitmen. One chance encounter that changes everything.

Rhett, Elliot, and Oliver only have one goal: taking down the man who ruined their lives ten years ago. There's little else they focus on except their Friday morning trip to a new coffee shop.

There, they meet Wren, a barista questioning whether she should move on from her toxic boyfriend or not. She's kind, sassy, and is the queen of matching energies.

Quickly, the guys realize how refreshing spending time with Wren is. A deep darkness surrounds their lives, and she gives them something they haven't had in a long while: hope.

This prequel can be read before or after you finish the series. Whatever you prefer!

LanguageEnglish
Release dateSep 30, 2024
ISBN9798227599872
Ruthless Desires Prequel: Ruthless Desires, #0.5

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    Book preview

    Ruthless Desires Prequel - Elira Firethorn

    Chapter one

    Oliver

    August

    Here’s the thing about being a hitman: you experience the world very differently than everyone else. Something as mundane as walking into a new coffee shop on a Friday morning can have your mind whirring with possibilities.

    We look normal—me, Elliot, and Rhett, that is. But underneath our sharp suits and our cover of being investment bankers, we’re lethal. It makes me wonder about everyone else in this bustling little shop. Students studying in one corner, friends catching up in another.

    Or so it seems.

    But the truth is, you never know who someone is at a first glance. You can only make your best guess.

    Elliot nudges me while we wait in line. You good? You’re awfully quiet this morning.

    Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. I shoot him my signature grin. It is a little odd for me to not be more talkative, but I’m in a rare introspective mood this morning. There’s a lot to think about.

    How far we’ve come.

    How far we still have to go.

    My hopes for what the future will look like.

    And, of course, who else in this coffee shop is pretending to be someone they’re not.

    A laugh fills the shop, light and sweet. My eyes are drawn to the woman taking orders behind the counter. She’s probably no more than a few years younger than us, and her eyes are sparkling with delight at the little kid in front of us who’s swiping her mom’s credit card.

    The sight sends a pang through my chest. Yet another reminder that things aren’t always as they seem. That even when life is just beginning to look up, you can have some of the most important things stolen away from you in a heartbeat.

    Thankfully, the feeling dissipates quickly when the woman behind the counter beckons us forward. We’ve lost a lot, and a lot has changed. But one thing that’s always stayed the same? A beautiful woman, even if she could kill you, is still beautiful.

    I don’t think the pretty barista behind the counter has murder in her blood, though. But I suppose there was a time when I thought the same of myself.

    Morning, I say as I saunter up to the counter. Having a good day so far?

    A pretty busy one, she replies as she grabs a sleeve of cups to refill a near-empty holder.

    I take a peek at her name tag. Well, Wren, I hope things slow down for you.

    Her expression is surprised, but she covers it with a warm smile. Thank you.

    Of course. Now, what would you recommend for someone with a sweet tooth?

    Hmmm. Our caramel cappuccino is pretty popular.

    I’ll have that, then. Maybe with extra caramel?

    Sure, she says with a little laugh, punching in my order.

    Something about the way her smile widens has me standing a little taller. Food service is hard and miserable work. Knowing Wren’s morning just got a little bit better—and knowing it’s because of me—causes satisfaction to slip into my veins.

    And are you three ordering separately or together? Wren asks, her eyes flitting between the three of us.

    Together. Elliot steps up to the counter. If you could add two black coffees, please?

    Sure thing. That all?

    Elliot nods. She tells us our total, and Rhett pulls out his card and swipes silently. As he does, Wren cranes her neck just a little to get a better look at his hand.

    I like your tattoo, she says, her expression shy. It’s nice.

    Rhett freezes, his eyes snapping to hers. I doubt he’s intentionally staring at her like he’s trying to scare her, but I think he’s succeeding in doing just that. The man doesn’t know how to be anything but intense.

    What he’s trying to say is thank you, I tell Wren before slinging my arm around Rhett and guiding him away from the register.

    Behind us, Elliot mutters a quick apology before catching up with us. Where should we sit?

    How about right here? I nod to the little bar at the counter. There are three stools—the perfect amount for us. And, as an added bonus, it keeps us close enough that maybe I could strike up a conversation with Wren.

    Rhett doesn’t seem too happy about it, but upon further inspection of the shop, he relents. There aren’t really any open tables.

    I’ve got one of the black coffees here, Wren says before setting it on the counter. We have more brewing, and it’s almost done, and then the cappuccino will be right up.

    Take your time, I tell her. We’re in no rush.

    While she gets everything ready for the other drinks, I do my best to watch her discreetly. She really is pretty—the kind that makes it hard to look away. God, I don’t want to be a creep, but she seems so nice, too.

    Not that it matters, a voice in the back of my head reminds me.

    I ignore it.

    Sliding the mug in front of Rhett, Elliot says, For you.

    Rhett frowns. Ell, you—

    It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting a few minutes.

    You’re sure?

    Nodding, Elliot slips a hand onto Rhett’s leg. Positive.

    I lean forward so I can see Rhett. He’s tricking you.

    Tricking me? Rhett shoots me a disbelieving

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