Elijah: Horsemen Mafia Romance Series, page 1
Table of Contents:
Elijah
Book 1, Horsemen Series
Excerpt of:
Cutting Ties
(Asher Prequel)
Horsemen Book List and Release Dates
Contact Information
Description:
As one of the Four Horsemen, people bow to my whims.
Women throw themselves at me.
And powerful men cower at the mention of my name.
With having more money than I could spend in a thousand lifetimes, being part of the most powerful crime syndicates in the world has its perks.
Love had never been on my checklist.
Money and power are the only things that matter in my world.
But something inside of me slowly seems to change.
And it’s all because of her…
New to the island, hired to work at one of my restaurants. She has no idea who I am or how things work here.
However, spilling wine on me has put her on my radar.
The fact she shows no interest in me only amplifies my desire to have her and I have every intention of making her mine.
The freedom she once had was lost the moment she caught my eye, she just doesn’t know it yet.
Welcome to Helka Island!
Crystal blue waters and a thriving nightlife.
Helka Island is the most sought-after vacation destination in the world.
At first glance, a girl might think it's paradise...
But even paradise has its underworld. And four dangerous men who rule it.
The Horsemen have united four of the most powerful organized crime families of North and South America and Europe and brought them together on a remote island in the Caribbean, creating an unstoppable force.
The four rulers of the island are a woman's fantasy, but a nightmare to anyone who defies the rules. They're sexy. They're single, but untouchable. Expanding their empires comes first for them... sex a close second... Love... Well, that hasn't even been a blip on their radar.
But that’s all about to change...
Elijah, Book 1 Horsemen Series
Copyright January 31, 2022
By Terry Towers
Cover by: JS Designs & Cover Art
All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotes used for critical reviews and articles no part of this book may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author Terry Towers. Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.
Four Horsemen:
(Book 1)
Elijah
By
Terry Towers
White Horse
(The first horseman)
Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, "Come." I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.
Revelation 6: 1-2
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Prologue
“And last but not least, the contract.” A contract, having to be at least a couple dozen pages long, was placed on the table in front of me. It was more of a damned book than a contract. Looking up at the lean, mid-twenty-ish, dark-haired man before me, I frowned. He couldn’t be serious.
“All of this? Just to work on Helka island?” I thumbed through the pages. The last couple of pages were bullet points of rules that must be abided by. I’d never seen anything like this for a job before, especially not for a waitressing job. Geez, I was going to serve food, not run their fucking bank. Credit checks. Criminal background checks. At this point, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he asked for blood and stool samples as well.
“Not just to work, but to live, visit and so on and so forth. There’s a reason why the island is such an exclusive and in-demand vacation spot. We have very strict policies. If we let just anyone on the island, then it would make it no more special than Jamaica or the Bahamas. There is virtually no crime and it is the safest place in the world for a reason.”
“Evidently.” I scanned the first couple of pages, only reading them halfway. It was a lot. Overwhelming really, almost to the point where I considered giving up on the whole idea.
But I needed this chance more than anything right now. So I trudged on.
It seemed like standard rules and regulations, most of which would be common sense. But what would keep people from just answering or checking what they felt was the appropriate answer on the question-and-answer pages? Seemed like an awful lot more fuss than necessary, it’s not like they’d have someone checking each and every one of these.
Would they?
“I’ll leave you to it. Please read it carefully and if you have any questions, I encourage you to ask when I return.” He hesitated at the doorway and turned back to face me. “Oh, and in case I forget to mention it later… Before you leave you’ll need to stop by the nursing station and give a blood and stool sample. Along with a general physical. Nothing too intrusive, I promise.” Before I replied, he disappeared closing the door behind him, leaving me alone in the small room that housed four small wooden tables and chairs like the one I sat at.
For a second time since arriving, I was close to saying screw this whole thing; it wasn’t even funny. It seemed ridiculous at this point. But I reminded myself it was my chance at a much-needed fresh start. A place where there was no crime and was the safest place in the world seemed to be an outrageous claim, but if I didn’t jump through these hoops, I’d never know if it was true or complete horseshit.
Deciding to go back and take a more careful read, my suspicions were confirmed. Regular mumbo jumbo. What did stand out was the fact the island was a sovereign nation governed by its own laws and regulations. Was that even possible in this day and age?
I huffed.
You learn something new every day, I guess. The island had a resident population of half a million people, with an equal number or more people on the island who were visitors and vacationers at any given time.
There was a brief history lesson on the island. The owners were undisclosed, but it said they’d taken control of the island five years ago and built it from the ground up. While other individuals and corporations built on the land, a large chunk of the assets was controlled by the four owners of the island. It made me wonder about those individuals. Were they wealthy investors from overseas or domestic? I doubted they were domestic. In my mind they were mysterious, eccentric, mega-billionaires from across the world.
While I hadn’t set foot on the island yet, I’d seen the videos and pictures of the place. It appeared to be like Las Vegas, but so much better, placed on an island with beaches and crystal blue water situated in the Atlantic off the southern coast of the United States. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the amount of money it would have taken to build it, especially when all the materials would have had to be brought in from other countries. The excitement within me surged at the thought of living in such a place. When it came right down to it, a little blood and some poking and prodding from a nurse seemed to be a small price to pay for this opportunity.
The only thing between me and the island appearing to be heaven on Earth - if what I’d heard was to be believed – was a daunting amount of paperwork and apparently a brief stop at the nurses’ station.
With the reading part of the contract complete, which took close to a damned hour, I sighed and leaned back in the plastic, straight-backed chair. Grabbing the bottle of water they’d supplied for me, I took a hearty drink.
All right… Moving on to the checklist…
Chapter 1
Ashleigh
“Who are they?” I asked more to myself than to my co-worker, Sabrina, who had just come to stand next to me. With a water jug in hand, I stood just outside the kitchen doors of the fine dining restaurant I had gotten hired at several days ago and stared at the four sexy-as-sin suited men who walked through the front doors. It may have been my imagination, but the steady murmur I’d heard throughout the restaurant over the past few hours seemed to lull as an uneasy quiet took over.
I wasn’t the only one watching them as they crossed the restaurant, most eyes were on the four men, even though it seemed as if people were desperately trying not to look. There were a good many quick glances and side-eyed looks shot in their direction. I couldn’t blame them though, there was an untouchable air about them, as though four Greek gods had just graced our establishment with their presence. They didn’t stop at the host’s desk to wait to be seated as everyone else did. Instead, they strode pas t the maitre’d, Maxwell, as if he were invisible. Generally, that would have been unacceptable to the uppity face of the restaurant, but in this instance, he didn’t even try to stop them or seem remotely perturbed by the intrusion.
Could they be the elusive owners of this place?
Sabrina leaned into me and in a whispered voice replied, “First off, lower your voice. And second off, don’t stare at them. They don’t like people gawking.”
Crinkling my nose and running a hand over my brown locks tied up in a high ponytail, I looked over at the pretty blond next to me and laughed. “Don’t stare at them? Who are they and why are they so important that you can’t even look at them?”
In a hushed tone, she replied, “We call them the horsemen.”
I laughed a second time. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Like in the apocalypse? Come on.” How ridiculous.
“I’m not kidding. Not literally of course, it’s just a nickname, silly. But they own this place.”
I sighed. It made sense now. “The restaurant owners.” Though it still didn’t explain why people were staring at them – abet trying not to look at them – as if they were gods.
“No, I mean. They own this entire island. They own the restaurant, along with over half of the businesses here. But it’s even more than that.” Her voice lowered to a barely audible whisper. “They’re connected.” She waved a dismissive hand at me. “You’ll understand when you’re here a bit longer.”
“Huh?”
“They’re the government here – is a way of thinking about it, though it’s more like a dictatorship than a democracy. They control everything including the police force and the banks. Everything.”
“The whole island? They look so young.” I watched as they took a seat in a booth at the back corner of the dimly lit restaurant. I knew there were four owners, and had noticed it on the massive entrance forms I had to read, fill out, and sign. But I’d assumed they’d be older – or… I don’t know… Just not like men who appeared as though they’d just walked off the cover of some men’s fashion or fitness magazine.
The first day I’d worked here, I was told that no one was to sit in that booth, now I knew why. What did she mean by they were more than that? A dictatorship? Like Stalin? Frowning, I looked at Sabrina hoping she’d give me more clarity. When she didn’t say anything further, I looked back at the four men who were now seated and chatting amongst themselves as Maxwell approached their table with a rare smile on his face.
“For the love of God, stop staring at them, Ashleigh. You just started here; do you want to get canned already?”
“For looking at them?” I scoffed. “Ridiculous, if you ask me. Am I supposed to kiss their shoes if they approach me?”
That would be the day. I’d tell them to shove their job up their pompous asses if that’s what they expected. Just because they had money and power didn’t make them any better than any of the rest of the people on this island.
She rolled her blue eyes, lined with charcoal black liner and highlighted with a rose-colored shadow, making them really pop at me. “Yeah. Pretty much. They’re… particular. I don’t think you have to go as far as kiss their feet though. Most people don’t get to associate with them or get close enough to them to have to go to those extremes. There’s been people on the island since the conception that haven’t spoken so much as a word to any of them. Most of the people really. Rumor has it, their circle is pretty tight-knit.”
“Seems like they’re egotistical dicks to me. You can’t look at them or talk to them? Bullshit,” I muttered under my breath as I tore my eyes from the booth and headed towards the first table in my section to top off their water glasses and ask if they needed anything else. Just because they were rich, good-looking and ‘connected’ didn’t make them any better than anyone else in this restaurant. I fucking hated people like them, self-absorbed and indulgent assholes. At least that’s been my experience with rich people up until this point in my life.
At twenty-four, I’d been waitressing for the past eight years, starting off at dingy diners while in high school and working my way up to fine dining. It was the only type of job I knew and this particular gig was the crème de la crème of waitressing jobs. I was living on a beautiful island, which was the closest thing to paradise that I’d ever experienced before – at least from what I’d experienced thus far. No crime. No pollution. No poverty. Everyone here was paid a living wage and my apartment was included in the pay. It wasn’t a lavish apartment, but a nice cozy one-bedroom that served my purposes. It sure beat the cockroach and rat-infected shitholes I’d lived in most of my life. From what I could tell so far, the island lived up to the sales pitch given to me at the interview.
Helka Island was the playground for the rich. The new must-see destination for those lucky enough to be pre-approved to visit. Not to mention the salary and tips were the best I’d ever experienced anywhere else. In five years, I should have enough for a down-payment on a house back in the United States and a credit score good enough to be approved, should I choose to leave. From what I’d heard thus far, most people didn’t want to leave after migrating here. Maybe it was for the best if I kept my mouth shut, did my job and kept my opinions to myself. They weren’t even in my section so luckily, I didn’t have to deal with the douche squad anyhow.
But I couldn’t help myself. I was drawn to the men, like some unexplained force kept calling to me. As I worked, my gaze kept shifting over to their table. There were four of them, two dark-haired, one with lighter brown hair and a blond one. They were all tall, a little over six feet, and even though they were draped in suits, I could tell they were fit. All appeared to be in their early to mid-thirties. Oh, and did I mention they were mouth-watering delicious to look at? Keeping my eyes averted was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Though I took refuge in the fact I wasn’t the only one. The other waitresses, along with a couple of the waiters were in the same boat as I was, trying not to look, but sneaking a peek from time to time.
It was the one with short-cut dirty blond hair who kept catching my gaze and monopolizing my attention. He was beautiful, in a rugged sort of way with a strong square jaw and a couple of days worth of scruff. But dammit, it was his deep gray eyes that kept drawing me. Even with the distance between us, the color was rich and appealing.
Just stay away, I coached myself. He’s not the only hot man I’d ever seen. I’ve served celebrities and models. He’s just another rich, good-looking man who no doubt thinks he’s better than everyone else in this place.
“Hey, Miss. Can I get some service over here?”
Cursing myself, I tore my gaze from blondie and spun around. Forcing a smile onto my face, I caught the gaze of the aging male customer who’d summoned me and walked over. Placing the water jug onto the table, I pulled my tablet from my black apron.
Hitting number thirty-two on the tablet with the pen, I prepared to take his order. “I’m sorry for the delay, sir.” I nodded to the woman across from him who was without a doubt younger than my twenty-four years. “Ma’am. What can I get you both tonight?” He wasn’t much to look at, but she was beautiful, no doubt an aspiring model who couldn’t make it in the business so opted to find herself a sugar daddy. There was always a chance that I was wrong, but I highly doubted it. I’d seen this scenario play out over and over again throughout the years, so it was highly unlikely I was wrong.
They rattled off their order and I typed it into the tablet without paying much attention to what I was typing. Taking orders was as easy as breathing for me. I was on the island a couple of days before my first shifts began and had taken the time to memorize the twenty item menu. It wasn’t all that difficult after working at diners that served dozens upon dozens of items. The only part that was complicated was the wine and drink list, that thing was a bitch and anyone who had anything short of an eidetic memory would have struggled with that. The wine menu would take more time, but wasn’t entirely impossible.
