Stolen By The Boss (Taken, #4) by Logan Chance

Chapter 1


* * *

I hate when I kill someone and they don’t stay dead. Bishop Blackstone was murdered at my hand. I put the bullet through him myself. Sure, I didn’t see the body. Maybe we couldn’t find him to make sure he was dead.

But it happened a while ago. My men and I were sure he was taken care of.

I slam a fist on my desk at hearing the news that Bishop Blackstone has resurfaced. To make matters worse he’s going after my clients.

“Mr. Maddox, he’s here,” my assistant, Marge, says.

I nod. “I’ll be right there.”

I’m not looking forward to this meeting. I’m not looking forward to any of this. I have to explain to the biggest and baddest mob boss in America why his daughter is in danger.

I’ve been in this game a while. Security to the most infamous crime outfit the world has ever seen.

It was five years ago the ‘Il Ordine Pubblico’ treaty was signed between the Four Families to conduct business together in peace. It’s been five years of harmony and for the most part, lack of work, because when there’s peace, there’s no war. And no one to keep safe. But now all that has changed. Now they have one of the most notorious bad guys after their power. And what Bishop wants, Bishop usually gets. So when the news comes down the pipeline about Bishop going after each daughter of the Four Families, I know I can’t sit idly by and watch.

Bishop will take the daughters and they’ll never be heard from again.

I know this.

I can’t let this happen.

He’s not planning on taking these girls to hold as ransom. No, he wants complete revenge. He wants complete anarchy. He wants to murder these women in cold blood, for all the fathers to watch. He wants to prove once and for all he’s the baddest motherfucker around.

Marge has already shown Georgio DeWinter into my conference room. I stand from my desk, adjusting my red power tie and cufflinks. I throw my suit jacket on, buttoning it before making my way out into the large meeting space.

I step inside and Marge has the room set up with Beluga caviar from the Caspian Sea and a catering tray of Tuscan white truffles from his favorite little Italian restaurant in the city. But he touches nothing.

His stare is menacing and downright terrifying. He's a complete badass to anyone who crosses his path, and many never do.

They know better.

“Georgio, thank you for coming in.” I cross to the head of the table, his eyes on me, and I unbutton my jacket as I take my seat. “The news I’ve received is critical, and the timing is everything.” I don’t beat around the bush. He doesn’t pay me for that.

“I thought Bishop was dead.”

Yeah, I thought so too. I even pulled the trigger myself. “So did we. But we’ve recently learned he’s resurfaced on the island of Zanzibar, off the coast of Western Africa. His primary home is there and we believe he’s coming back stateside soon.”

“How soon?” Georgio asks.

“That’s still to be determined.”

“To be determined? What’s he planning?” he snarls. His rough exterior hides an even rougher interior. “Why is my daughter the only one in trouble?” Georgio stands from his seat, moving around the table. “That’s why you called me here, right? About the safety of my daughter.”

I nod. “Yes.”

“What does he want with my Mia?”

“It’s not just Mia. Bishop’s targeting the Four Families. He’s after each man’s daughter.”

“All of us?”


The four men work together, all having a daughter they dote heavily on. Pure Daddy’s girls. Bishop must feel this is his best bet to bring down the organization. Hit the men where it’ll hurt the most.

“And I’m pretty sure he’s planning on murdering them for revenge.”

Georgio burns his beady brown eyes into mine. “I’ll murder that asshole before he can ever touch my Mia.”

“It won’t come to that.” I raise a hand. I’d never let Bishop get to any of their daughters. The Four Families hire me for the highest level of skills I possess. I’m a master in my craft of security, and I run one of the largest operations in the world for handling things. I say things because it’s just that. I do whatever needs to be done. No questions asked.

“What do you suggest?”