Take, p.1
Take, page 1

TAKE
Abbi Cook
Contents
TAKE blurb
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Books by Abbi:
Take
Trace Rule takes what he wants in this world.
Jewels, money, anything he desires, thanks to his skill as a thief.
There’s nothing like the thrill of possessing what isn’t his.
But he’s not supposed to steal another man’s wife, especially the wife of a fellow Villains Club member.
The problem is when he sets his sights on me, I don’t know who I’m dealing with. Powerful, manipulative, and charming, he doesn’t take no for an answer.
If only I loved my husband. If only he cared about me. If only ours wasn’t a marriage of convenience.
If only I could find it in me to say no.
A villain skilled at taking what he desires has chosen me for his next crime.
There’s nowhere for me to hide when Trace Rule decides what he wants.
Take is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
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2021 Dark Vine Media LLC
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Copyright © 2021 Dark Vine Media LLC
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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
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Published in the United States
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ISBN: 978-1-7355993-6-6
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Cover design by Clarise Tan of C.T. Cover Creations
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Contains themes that may upset some readers
Chapter One
Trace
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A year late, I stand in front of the members of the Order of Impuratus seated in the crypt beneath my family’s estate. Why a year late, you ask? I’d have had it be ten years late or never since I want no part of my father’s world or his fucking secret society.
Yet here I am waiting to hear the judgment of the Order on whether or not I’ll be allowed to join.
For the longest time, I was just the spare to Maddox, the heir to the Rule family fortune and all that comes with it. Well, one of the spares, along with Helix, Julian, and Nick. Being spares meant we didn’t have to deal with the pressures that the eldest had to handle. We were free to live our lives the way we wanted to, not according to my father’s strict rules.
Basically, we didn’t matter, and that was fine with me. Nothing new there. I’d lived my entire life like that.
But then some of his fine friends in this group of his we call the Villains Club started making noise about the fact that they had sons and grandsons who would someday succeed them in the Order, so they should be in charge. Nothing upsets Stephen Rule more than not being in control of what he deems important, so Maddox had to begin having children, preferably sons, of course, and suddenly, the rest of us spares became important to my father.
I refused to join, but Helix screwed everything up by agreeing to become part of this fucking group last year. I’m not sure what changed in him to make him want to hang out with these assholes, but since he’s a year younger than me, once he was let in and made one of the Order, that meant I had to.
Except I wasn’t giving in without a fight. I swore I’d never be a part of Stephen Rule’s businesses, and I never wanted to be a part of this club.
That made me the black sheep, although in private, even Maddox couldn’t pretend like he didn’t wish he could be me. Fuck all their expectations. I’m going to live my life as I see fit.
But then a spare even younger than me changed sides and started working for my father, so it was only a matter of time before the noose would start to tighten for me. First, he cut off my money. My father doesn’t like being subtle. He assumed that would do the job and convince me.
It didn’t.
Unlike my younger brothers, I don’t piss away my money the second I get it. Stephen Rule thought taking away my income would force me to do what he wanted? I’ve been getting that money each month since I was eighteen. Nine years of thousands of dollars every thirty days adds up. Even after buying a Porsche and partying for more nights than I want to count, I still had more than enough money to get me by.
Then it was threatening to make me homeless. As if I don’t have any fucking friends outside this house. Even if I didn’t, I can afford to buy somewhere to live.
So I thought I made it through unscathed. He couldn’t starve me into doing what he wanted or scare me.
I thought wrong.
When those tricks didn’t work, he brought out the big guns. Literally. Nothing like having your father sic his goons on you to make you come around to his way of thinking. After months of fighting him, I got the treatment he usually reserves for people who aren’t family members, which included ripping me from my bed one night, handcuffing my wrists and tossing me into the backseat of a car, and driving me out to some warehouse he uses to store his illegal goods and for beatings of those of us who piss him off.
I guess I should be happy they didn’t stuff me into the trunk of the car.
Threats, a gun pointed at my head several times, and some asshole’s fist connecting with my jaw twice made me wonder why I was fighting my father’s wishes at all. He seems to have accepted that I’ll never work for him, but this whole Order of Impuratus thing wasn’t something he’d relent on anytime soon.
So I gave in.
And now I get to hear tonight if I’ve passed the test and been made a part of the Villains Club. Not that I care if they want me to join their club or not, but I know as sure as I know my name that if they don’t let me in, my days of not having to work for my father are over as soon as the words leave the head of the Order’s mouth.
The man in the center of the group of seven at the table in front of me clears his voice to make his announcement. “Trace Rule, we of the Order of Impuratus have voted. We’re happy to announce you are now a member. You will continue the long tradition of your family in this sacred organization. Fellow members, join me in welcoming this new initiate to our ranks.”
I watch as all the members assembled remove their gold masks and clap at hearing I’ve been let in to their little club. My father beams a smile full of pride, and I see Maddox and Helix off to the side of the crypt clapping like they think this is a good thing for me too.
At least getting in didn’t involve doing anything ridiculous or degrading. The truth is, though, merely allowing myself to give in to my father’s wishes on this one thing is demeaning enough.
Members approach me to shake their hands in congratulations, and I silently note some of the bigger names when they welcome me. The head of the First Bank of New York, Carlton Chambers, that old geezer with more nose hair than hair on top of his head my father knows enough about to make them far closer than I suspect Chambers would like. Sydney Marshall, the son of the oldest member of the Order and a criminal as bad as my father, albeit far less brutal. His crime of choice tends to be white collar theft, something I can appreciate, while my father’s tends to fall into the category of drugs and anything ugly he can make a buck off of.
One by one, they shake my hand or pat me on the shoulder in their way to say they’re happy I’ve made it. I smile and nod, thanking each of them in the manner I know I must. I notice only one politician in the group, but that’s not a surprise. I’ve long heard from my father and Maddox that the Order of Impuratus doesn’t like politicians.
There’s dirty and then there’s that level of dirt. Thieves and drug cartel heads are one thing. Men who pretend to be servants of the people while fucking them repeatedly are a bridge too far for these villains.
The single politician, the junior senator from Connecticut, takes my hand and gives it a far too hard squeeze, a clue he’s insecure. I may not like my father or much that he does, but I listen when he talks about people, and since I was a boy, I’ve heard my father judge other men on their handshakes. A shake like a dead fish or delicate like a woman is bad, but one that tries to crush your fingers signals a man who isn’t sure about himself and feels he must prove something to be respected.
“Congratulations, Trace. Your father has told all of us a great deal about you. He expects tremendous things from you in the future,” Senator Matthew Natton says with a cheesy smile that reminds me of the kind every politician must master if they want to rise above local town council level power.
I smile back at him, far less enthusiastically, after hearing him refer to my future with the word tremendous. Such a bullshit word. Typi cal of someone in politics to use it. Tremendous means nothing nowadays.
“Thank you. Congratulations on your success. It’s been nothing short of meteoric,” I say and then watch his expression.
Tremendous might mean jackshit to most people, but meteoric doesn’t. He knows what the rumors are about his rise from county commissioner to state rep to U.S. Senator in less than ten years. He’s bound to have stepped on a lot of toes to make himself the youngest senator in a generation. I make sure to include that description of his success to see if the gossip bothers him.
A slight wince and then an almost imperceptible twisting of his facial muscles, especially near his temples where his dark brown hair is just beginning to gray, tell me the rumors do upset him. Interesting. What did the fine senator do to rise to his position so quickly?
His reaction only lasts for the briefest second and then he’s smiling again. “Oh, you know how it is with men like us. The success comes after much hard work. Your father has neglected to mention what you do, though.”
I make sure my expression doesn’t reveal how much I don’t want to talk about what I do. My father has never mentioned it to Natton or anyone else because I do nothing. I don’t work for him like Maddox and Helix. I don’t have professional plans like Julian. And I don’t go to school like Nick.
What I do isn’t a job so much as a hobby, an avocation I enjoy. It’s not legal, but that’s not the reason my father works to keep it a secret. Nothing he does is legal.
No, he doesn’t tell anyone because he doesn’t think it’s impressive enough.
I’m a thief. For his son to be that is fine. His problem with my choice to be a thief is I don’t steal anything he thinks is worthwhile. Because he abhors subtlety, he thinks I should take things like great works of art or other similarly ostentatious items.
So until I haul away the fucking Mona Lisa, my father refuses to mention what I do to a group like the Order of Impuratus, men who would have no problem with my little habit. In fact, they very well might appreciate my talent far more than my father.
I should just tell Natton the truth about how I spend my time, but instead I simply smile and lie. He’s used to that more anyway considering what he’s chosen to do with his own life.
“Oh, I’m apprenticing along with my brother Helix to work with my father. It’s the family business, so that’s to be expected.”
The senator nods, likely because he believes my bullshit lie. It does seem only natural that I’d work for Rule Enterprises. Since he doesn’t know me or understand how much I loathe the very idea of doing exactly that, he accepts what I say as truth and once again pats me on the shoulder.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll rise in the ranks quickly in your father’s organization. You Rules seem to have an innate sense of how to get things done.”
“Thank you. I chalk that up to my father. He’s quite the leader,” I say, hoping I’m tempering my sarcasm enough that I won’t have to deal with a lecture from the very man himself after this if Natton tells him what I’ve said.
The senator walks away, leaving me alone for only a few moments before Maddox and Helix come over. My older brother is full of smiles, but I suspect that has more to do with his wife, their young son, and the baby they’re expecting later this year. Helix, on the other hand, is as sullen as fuck, his usual way with me.
“Welcome to the Villains Club,” Maddox says with a laugh before grabbing my hand in a handshake. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now you can go back to living your life and doing what you want to do without having to deal with our father’s head up your ass day in and day out.”
“Yeah. Nothing like being coerced into doing something you don’t want to do.”
Maddox shrugs and gives me a sly smile. “Well, it wouldn’t involve coercing if it was something you wanted to do, would it?”
“Smartass. You’re getting more and more like our father every goddamned day. Think your wife is going to be happy with that?” I say, teasing him on the one thing I know means the most to him.
“Only with you, Trace. As for my wife, she gets the Maddox none of you sons of bitches get, so she’ll be fine.”
Helix stands off to the side doing his usual combination of anger and brooding, as if he has anything to be pissed about. I glance over at him to give him his chance to congratulate me, but he doesn’t say anything.
“No congrats, Helix? Considering you’re the reason I’m here at all, I’d think you’d have something to say.”
“We all have our parts to play in this family, Trace. I can’t help it that you don’t seem to want to step up to the plate like everyone else,” he says.
I roll my eyes, already tired of him. “Thanks for the mixed metaphors. Clever. Maybe you should just go over to where our father is standing and stuff your nose up his ass a little more. I bet there’s some of dinner from last night you haven’t sniffed yet.”
Maddox stifles his laugh and turns his head away, but I know he enjoyed that. Maybe if Helix wasn’t such a fucking company man, happy to sell out Maddox and me and anyone else to get what he wants, he wouldn’t deserve me saying things like that to him.
But since he is that much of an ass-kissing yes man, I have no intention of holding back on how much he disgusts me.
“It’s not being a brown-noser doing what’s expected of you, Trace. Ask Maddox here. He’ll tell you,” Helix says, full of pride for how he’s turned into my father’s biggest fan in the past year.
Maddox holds his hands up in front of his face and steps back away from the two of us. “Don’t bring me into this. I had no choice to be what Stephen Rule demanded. I’m the heir. If I was a spare like you guys, I might have done things differently.”
Leveling my gaze directly on Helix, I nod in satisfaction. “And that’s exactly why you acting like you have is all the worse. We never had to do anything much to make him happy. He has Maddox here who did all the heavy lifting. He’s got the wife, the kid Dad insisted he have, so he was happy. Then you had to go off and make sure you joined the damn family business and became one of these assholes. I bet Julian and Nick are happy you fucked them too.”
Helix takes a step toward me so we’re nearly on top of one another. I can feel his breath drift over my face when he says, “It’s not a fucking crime to do what’s best for your family, Trace. Maybe if you weren’t so goddamned busy playing Oceans fucking Eleven and stealing bullshit nobody cares about, you’d see that. What’s your latest lift? Ketch’s ex-girlfriend? I could have had her riding my dick last week before I finished a beer.”
I cock my arm back to hit him, not because he talked shit about Maya but because he’s an asshole who has it coming. He doesn’t budge, and I get the sense he’s itching for this fight as much as I am.
“Go ahead, Trace. Just another time you’ll make our family look bad,” Helix says, practically taunting me.
Maddox quickly steps between us, his face toward me, and shakes his head. “Not here. He’ll have a fucking fit, and then I’ll be the one who has to deal with it. Save it for when we’re alone.”
Backing away, Helix laughs. “Yeah, save it for later. I’m sure I’ll be in the mood to fuck you up then too.”
I look around Maddox at my younger brother as he turns to walk away, still wanting to beat the hell out of him and not giving a damn who’s around. “I’m so fucking sick of him, you know that?”
Maddox nods and releases his hold on me. “You don’t have to deal with him at work too. Count your blessings for that. I swear to God I don’t have to worry half as much about anyone else who works for Dad as much as I have to worry about my own brother. I don’t turn my back on him, that’s for sure. I can’t trust him with anything, which is making what I’m trying to do with Dad and the business even harder than it should be.”

