by Stone, Piper
Ridiculous.
Unable to take the banter any longer, I managed to get to my feet, moving toward the kitchen where at least I could be alone in my damning thoughts. The house belonging to the King parents was lovely, more of a true mansion than the one Lucian lived in. We lived in. I bit back a laugh at the thought.
As I set the glass on the beautiful black granite countertop, I couldn’t help but notice the two colors. Blood and death. My God. How could I ever get past this? I hung my head, studying my fingers.
“I thought I’d check on you.” Angelique’s voice held a tone of real concern. I’d witnessed her bravery, her ability to jump into action, prepared to fight just like her brothers. I’d marveled at her take no shit attitude in the wave of danger.
“I just needed some time alone. I’m very tired.” When she didn’t say anything, I lifted my head. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be impolite.”
“After what you’ve been through, I wouldn’t blame you if you were, but you’re not.” She laughed, moving to the other side of the island, carefully placing her glass of wine before leaning over.
“What we’ve been through.”
A slight smile crossed her face. “Yes, but some of us have been through something like this before. On a scale of one to ten. How freaked out are you?”
“Five hundred?” I hated the weakness in my voice. If she thought that would give me any comfort, she was dead wrong.
She laughed. “I get it. That’s exactly the way Emily and Daniella were at first. They’ve both witnessed something similar.”
“How the hell do you do it? I mean, I understand you’re born into this, but why would the two of them tolerate such horrors on a daily basis? And to put kids in the middle? That’s insane. Criminal.” Hissing, I clenched my eyes shut, expecting a biting reply.
Instead, she reached across the island, placing her hand on mine. “Love.”
“What?”
“You asked how they could tolerate such a horrible life. It’s called love. I think that if you love someone, you can endure anything. Sometimes you have to fight for that love, but it’s worth it.”
I laughed. “You do understand why I’m married. At least I would assume.”
She took a deep breath before answering. “Of course I do. However, I also see the way you two look at each other. You can’t deny how attracted you are.”
“I…” Laughing nervously, I finally took that sip of wine. “Yes, I am, but that’s just physical attraction. Being forced into marriage doesn’t make for a wonderful life together.”
“Maybe you should ask Emily about that.” She hid behind her glass, a smile sliding across her face. She didn’t to think there was anything wrong with being taken away from my life. Or maybe she’d been indoctrinated into believing it was normal.
“I don’t want to know.”
“I realize you can’t understand this lifestyle. If I wasn’t born into it, you’re right, I wouldn’t either. What I do know is that everyone faces traumas or tragedies in their lives. Whether it’s because of cancer or a car crash, a freak accident or fighting for our country, there isn’t a soul on this planet who isn’t faced with challenges.”
“You have people who want to kill you.”
“Yes, but that also doesn’t mean murder doesn’t happen to everyday people just trying to live out their lives.”
I tilted my head, lifting my eyebrows. “You’re not convincing me. What about Michael’s children?”
“He’s very protective of them. I’ve never seen a man so adoring of two kids and they’re well protected. They also are regular kids.”
“I don’t understand how he could let them out of his sight for a single second.”
Sighing, she swirled her glass. “I’m not certain how to explain this, but there is a kind of honor amongst families who do what we do.”
“Mafia families?”
She grinned brightly. “Yes. We don’t violate their turf and they don’t ours. The reason why is that it would lead to total chaos, violence spilling into the streets. That would place innocent lives in danger and for the most part, that’s not who or what we are, or any other family for that matter. That doesn’t mean other organizations or unknown enemies don’t attempt to take what belongs to us, but that doesn’t happen often.”
“Except it just did.”
“I don’t know the details around the reason for the attack.”
I thought about the experience in Cartagena. “There is a drug cartel in South America?”
“Oh, yeah. Carlos Morales. He’s not from the same class. There is no loyal or integrity. He’s a beast. If he’s behind this then…” She glanced away, another look of concern crossing her face. “There has to be more to what’s going on.”
I couldn’t take the discussion any longer. I was sick to my stomach, uncertain how I was supposed to feel.
“Are you planning on marrying some guy off the street?” I finally asked.
She sucked in her breath, darting a look toward the kitchen door. “If my parents have their way, I am already betrothed to the son of what my father considers another one of our enemies. Our wedding would ensure a permanent alliance between our families.”
“But you love someone else.”
“I… let’s just say I’m attracted to someone I can’t have.”
“Why can’t you have him?”
“Neither my parents nor my brothers would allow that to happen.”
I laughed, more out of nervousness than anything. “I thought you said love was worth fighting for.”
She got a faraway look in her eyes. “It is, but not for the King’s angel.”
How very sad. “Who is he? Can you tell me that?”
After taking a few seconds, she leaned even closer. “Promise to keep a secret?”
“Sure.” Who was I going to tell?
“He’s a delicious, big, and buff Russian with a heart of gold. Unfortunately, he’s Cristiano’s Capo, a big no-no. I will not be allowed to marry hired help.”
“Doesn’t that make you angry?”
“It does, but as I get older, I realize that honoring my family is far more important than anything else.”
“Including finding happiness for yourself?”
Angelique wrinkled her nose. “Yes. However, I would give anything to be allowed to love. Take my advice. Don’t allow your hatred of my brother to destroy your love for him. He’s a hard man, but he’s very conscientious about his family. Loyalty. Respect. Honor. They are important to him. He is also very loving, even though he tries to hide it.”
“So you think I’m in love with him, huh?”
This time, she rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ll leave you alone but thank you for saving my mother’s life. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. We will forever be in your debt. And if you want to know what I think: I believe you want to be a part of the family, even if it scares you to death.”
“You overestimate how I feel.”
She backed away, giving me a wink. “I can help you get the blood off your hands if you’d like.”
I gazed down at them again, shaking my head. “Not yet. I can’t allow myself to forget that people died today.”
“People die every day. It’s how you live that matters.”
Her words were profound but at this point, I wasn’t certain anything could make me feel any better.
Including allowing myself to fall in love.
Unfortunately, it was already starting to be too late.
I was falling hard for a brutal man, but could I live with the consequences of doing so?
Chapter 13
Lucian
“Through salvation our past has been forgiven, our present is given meaning and our future is secured.”
Rick Warren
Salvation.
I’d heard Cristiano say that he’d felt his own sense of deliverance with Emily’s love. I’d laughed at him openly, even making fun of the fac
t he was getting soft.
However, the minute I’d seen Genevieve covered in the asshole’s blood, I’d fallen into another level of pain, one that couldn’t be explained by anything other than my growing feelings for her. She was the light to my darkness, her innocence catching me off guard, but even more, it was her strength that allowed me to believe there could be a future.
Even if it wasn’t the one that I’d anticipated.
The simple fact was that I was falling in love with her. I couldn’t deny that any longer, nor would it do any good. However, I was no fool. Whatever future we had together appeared bleak.
She’d remained quiet the entire ride back to the house, constantly checking the side mirror, undoubtedly expecting another ambush. How could I explain to her that the horror she’d been forced to witness didn’t happen on a regular basis? Not only would she not believe me, but my gut told me it wouldn’t matter.
The warehouse had been a total loss, the fire consuming not only the main location but a significant portion of a second. Millions of dollars of party favors had been lost. What was worse was that there would no doubt be questions raised by the authorities. While there was yet to be a confirmation that either hit had been caused by the Morales cartel, in my gut I knew that was the case.
The man had declared war.
Retaliation was necessary in order to maintain our integrity. However, the loss had been significant enough that it would put us back by several weeks.
As I pulled the car to a stop, I kept the engine running for a few seconds, attempting to find the right words to say to her.
Genevieve didn’t bother glancing in my direction. She simply waited until I’d finally gotten out, moving around the vehicle before she opened her door. I could tell she was waiting for instructions, attempting to follow some unsaid rule.
“We’ll remain here tonight, boss,” Brick said.
“Check on Mario. Make sure he has everything he needs.”
“Don’t worry, boss. He’s one tough guy.”
I chuckled, although nothing about the situation was amusing. After guiding her inside, she immediately headed for the stairs. While I should be surprised that she hadn’t done everything to remove the blood from her hands, I had a feeling she wanted the reminder that the world she’d been forced in was as revolting as she’d imagined.
I followed her to the stairs, watching as she took her time, her hand sliding along the bannister. Then I jerked off my coat and tie, tossing both on one of the chairs as I walked into the living room.
Anger continued to boil in my veins, keeping the adrenaline high. I stormed toward the bar, yanking a glass and the bottle of scotch, pouring the tumbler almost completely full. It was almost three in the morning, the hours spent dealing with the situation exhausting. I could only imagine the morning news, the bullshit that the family would face for weeks to come.
My head aching, I rubbed my fingers across my eyes before taking a sip. Suddenly, the smooth liquor didn’t have any appeal. I refused to allow her to be alone. After slamming the glass on the bar, not giving a shit how much of it I’d spilled, I headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time.
The bathroom door was already closed and I could hear the shower running. I was surprised the door wasn’t locked and when I walked inside, I took a deep breath. She was behind the frosted glass, her dress crumpled on the floor where she’d tossed it. There was no indication she noticed my arrival or the fact I was undressing. Even when I opened the shower door, she didn’t move, maintaining her position. Both hands on the wall, her head lowered under the water.
I slipped behind her, brushing my fingers down her back.
She exhaled, her body quivering, yet she didn’t make another sound.
The touch of her skin sent prickles down the length of my body. Another rush of adrenaline as well as desire swept through me, my cock already aching from the need to be inside of her. I continued caressing her, taking my time to rub gently over her shoulders, rubbing the backs of my fingers along her arms.
A single moan pushed past her lips, her breathing becoming more ragged.
The blood had already washed away, but I knew she couldn’t shake the feeling. I grabbed the shampoo, pouring some into my hand then running my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp.
Genevieve didn’t budge, yet her fingers flexed, her knuckles white from the pressure she was using.
The sensations only increased, my balls swelling and my heart skipping several beats. I had no understanding of the way she felt, couldn’t comprehend what was going through in her mind. However, I wanted to share the kind of closeness I’d never done before, allowing her to feel the softness of someone who cared about her.
A man who would continue to try to protect her.
While a part of me thought of her as my possession, I wanted to share moments of joy along with passion. She’d dragged me out of a constant darkness, while I’d managed to shove her into the depths of hell.
I took my time, enjoying the sensations dancing across my fingers.
Satisfied I’d washed away every remnant of the gore she’d been forced to experience, I rinsed her long tresses until the water ran clear. The surge of electricity was difficult to ignore, the jolts soaring from my heated body into hers, every inch of her skin now covered in goosebumps. I found it difficult to focus, but nothing would stop me from savoring this moment.
I tugged the scrubby ball she’d insisted on purchasing, adding her favorite scented soap. When I began to pull the netting down her back, she lifted her head, now gasping for air. She allowed me to wash her, taking my time and rubbing it down her back, shifting back and forth across her bottom then down her legs.
As I turned her around, she didn’t fight me. Her eyes were closed, her mouth pursed but there was a serene look on her face, her muscles no longer tense. She dropped her hands by her sides, allowing me to slide the ball down from her neck all the way to her fingers. A single stain remained on her palm, the ugly reminder fortifying the promises I’d made to her and almost had failed in keeping.
And the rage remained, burning deep inside like a wildfire that would never be extinguished until the persons responsible faced their punishment.
The second I allowed my hand to fall to her breasts, her eyelids fluttered open. While I wasn’t certain they were focusing, I didn’t care, my determination to provide her with a tender moment overwhelming. There was something entirely too intoxicating about the scent of vanilla and cinnamon, the fragrances unable to mask her building desire, the combination deadly.
She had no idea what I hungered to do at this very moment.
I dropped to my knees, taking my time to wash her legs. When she placed her hands on my shoulders, the beast rose to the surface, threatening to break through. I was losing my control, the deep-seated longing becoming more powerful than my ability to ravish her with gentleness.
When I stood, allowing the water to cascade the remaining soap away, she lifted her head, gazing into my eyes. There was even more strength in her resolve than I’d seen before, a slight smile finally crossing her face.
“Why?” she asked, tilting her head in the same defiance I’d grown to love.
“Why give a damn?”
“Yes.”
I tossed the ball, finally taking her into my arms, enjoying the feel of the water sliding down both our heated bodies. “Because you’re all mine.”
“And?” she asked coyly, dancing her fingers down my arm.
“Because you’re very special. I could have lost you tonight.”
“Instead, you saved me.”
I could see her confusion, her difficulty accepting the brutal world I’d forced her to live in. But I also noticed something else. The same kind of burning passion was clawing at the surface, her hunger ready to consume her. I wrapped my hand around her silky strands, tilting her head.
“I would die for you.” As I captured her mouth, she rubbed her hands over my shoulders, rising onto h
er tiptoes and molding her body against mine. There was no further hesitation, no need for talking. She was mine, every beautiful inch of her.
And tonight, she not only understood our fierce electricity, she embraced our connection.
As the kiss became a passionate wave, our bodies burning for each other, she wrapped her leg around mine, arching her back. The feel of her breasts crushing against my chest was a powerful aphrodisiac, yanking my sadistic needs from the dark depths of my soul. I couldn’t get enough of her, thrusting my tongue inside and drinking in her sweet essence.
As the steam continued to build, billowing around us, I ground my hips back and forth, pushing my throbbing cock against her stomach.
Genevieve moaned into the kiss, yielding to my domination, clutching onto me as if her life depended on it.
I freed my beast, allowing her to enjoy the dazzling sensations, the surge of animalistic need that bordered on being savage. Neither one of us seemed to care. I swept my tongue over hers, grinding into her brutally. The water helped ease the tension, my muscles aching for an entirely different reason.
Her moans grew in intensity as she undulated her hips, every move she made seductive.
I slipped my hand between us, crawling my fingers down the length of her stomach, rubbing my palm against her mound.
“Tease,” she whispered.
Growling, I brushed the tip of my finger around her clit, studying her expression.
She dragged her tongue across her lips, giving me a heated look then shoved her hand between us, wasting no time before pulling the tip of her finger across my sensitive slit. “Then I can do the same.”
“Not if I don’t allow you,” I muttered, the husky sound almost unrecognizable. I flicked my finger back and forth across her clit then pinched the tender tissue.
Her strangled moan was my reward.
Yet the little brat retaliated, pulling my cockhead between her fingers, squeezing until the pressure and friction forced guttural sounds from deep with my chest. Her smile remained mischievous. The woman knew exactly how to get to me.
