Innocence (a Dark Mafia Romance)

by Stasia Black

  “Cora, darling!”

  Cora swung her head around in time to see Armand heading her way. He leaned down and gave her two kisses, one on either side of her cheek. He stepped back, beaming at her.

  “Look at you. Absolutely stunning, my love. I must talk Marcus into letting you model the dress I’m working on. No one else could do justice to the signature piece. I designed it with you in mind.”

  Cora flushed as Armand plucked the two seating arrangement cards beside her, handed them to an assistant who was trailing him and sat down beside Cora.

  “So what do you think of your first gala?” he asked, raising his arms flamboyantly. “Does it live up to expectations?”

  “I didn’t really have time to make any expectations,” Cora said, “I didn’t know we were coming here until we arrived.”

  “That beast,” Armand said. “You look stunning.”

  Cora glanced over at Marcus again. The woman was still there and she’d moved closer, if such a thing were even possible.

  “Ugh, that woman is a witch.”

  Cora jerked her head back at Armand who’d obviously noticed her looking at Marcus.

  “You know her?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  When Cora stayed silent, Armand obviously took pity on her.

  “She’s an executive at one of the big telecom companies in New Olympus.”

  “They dated?”

  Armand lifted a hand and waved it in a so-so gesture. “I’m not sure I would call it that.”

  “For how long?”

  “Off and on for maybe a year or two.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “The rumor mills said she wanted more. Apparently he didn’t.” Armand raised his eyebrows significantly.

  “How long ago was it?”

  “I guess they broke things off maybe two months before you got to the city.”

  Cora reached for her glass of water. After a long swallow, she thumped her glass down, almost sloshing water onto the tablecloth.

  “She’s old news, honey. He’s only got eyes for you. I’ve seen the way that man looks at you.”

  Cora barely stopped herself from scoffing. If Armand only knew.

  And what the hell was she doing wasting energy thinking about this anyway? Cora turned to Armand, angling her back away from Marcus. Tonight was about developing relationships. And yes Armand was Marcus’s friend… Or maybe they had some business together? Cora didn’t know what a crime lord and a fashion designer might have in common but still, Armand was a start. The more information she had, the better.

  “So, tell me how you’ve been. How is the line doing? And the spas? You’ve opened a chain of upmarket spas, right?”

  “Ugh, they’ve been running me ragged. I thought being an entrepreneur and being my own boss meant I got to set my own hours and sleep in. Ha! I work from dawn till dusk and still never get to half the things on my to do list.” He leaned in. “Probably doesn’t help that I party from dusk till dawn.” He winked.

  Cora barked out a laugh, startling herself. How long had it been since she’d genuinely laughed? It felt good. It felt really good.

  Cora reached out and gave Armand’s forearm a squeeze, letting go almost as quickly as she touched him. But her smile was genuine when she said, “It’s good to see you, Armand. Really good to see you.”

  “Armand,” Marcus’s deep voice came from behind Cora. She jumped in her chair and craned her neck to look up at him. He set a hand possessively on her shoulder before sitting down beside her.

  “How’s business?” Marcus asked and Armand transferred his attention to him.

  Cora watched Marcus. Had he seen her touch Armand? Was he mad at her about it?

  But Marcus seemed at ease. More at ease than he’d been all night, relaxed back in his seat and sipping from a glass of bourbon he’d picked up from somewhere as he and Armand chatted about the newest spa Armand had opened. Unlike with other people Marcus had chatted with tonight, he and Armand seemed genuinely friendly.

  Waitstaff came around and collected cards asking which entrée they’d like, and Cora excused herself to the restroom.

  Marcus stood up at the same time she did and his eyes skewered her. She heard his unasked question.

  She leaned up on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “Let me guess, you have thugs guarding the ballroom and I’ll be snatched up and taken back to the penthouse if I take a step out of line?”

  Marcus wound a hand around her waist and pulled her up tight against him. His breath was hot on her ear as he answered, “Something like that. I expect you back within ten minutes. If you don’t, I will come looking for you. Or one of my…thugs will.” When he pulled back, the corner of his mouth twitched.

  He gave her waist one last squeeze and let her go. But Cora could still feel his touch long after she’d walked away from the table toward the restroom.

  She went to the bathroom, relaxing only when she closed the door to the stall. What was she doing? Had she actually felt jealous of that woman out there? When what she was meant to be doing here was trying to find a way to escape?

  She dropped her face into her hands but lifted it again quickly. She couldn’t afford to muss her makeup. She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of her situation.

  Talk about a gilded cage.

  But sitting on the toilet wasn’t going to get her anywhere. So she flushed and opened the stall, heading for the sink. She was so in her own head, she didn’t even really notice the woman who’d opened the door as she began to wash her hands.

  “So, you and Marcus Ubeli.”

  Cora looked up and her eyes widened at seeing the elegant blonde had stepped in the door. The same woman Marcus had been talking to earlier.

  “I have to say, bravo. I thought that man would be a bachelor for life. He always did like his fuck toys young but I never imagined he’d go and marry one.”

  The woman advanced and stood at the mirror beside Cora. She settled her clutch on the bathroom counter and pulled out a tube of lipstick. Her dress was black, the lipstick fire engine red. She looked to be in her mid-30s. She was stunning, refined, sophisticated. The kind of sophistication that came from experience and not a fancy dress.

  Cora couldn’t help staring at her as she began touching up her lipstick that already looked perfect.

  The woman’s eyes slid back to Cora. “Well, aren’t you a quiet little mouse.” She put the top back on the tube of lipstick and closed her clutch with a snap.

  Cora still didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like she could defend her relationship with Marcus or would even want to. He didn’t mean anything to her. She hated him.

  “Really? Nothing to say? You know he and I have been lovers for years? I was supposed to be seated beside you but you saw how upset he became. It’s still so raw between us. We fight like cats and dogs and then we make up passionately, that’s how it’s always been. But trust me, he always comes back to me.”

  The woman looked Cora up and down, eyes narrowing, obviously waiting for a response to her cattiness.

  And it wasn’t that her words didn’t make Cora feel small and little. They did. This was not her world. She didn’t know the rules to the games these people played, Marcus least of all.

  And suddenly she had the strongest longing to be back at the farm where everything was simple.

  If only she could go back in time. Her mom wasn’t really that bad. And it was nothing Cora couldn’t handle now. She wasn’t a child anymore. She could stand up for herself now.

  After a day like today… And everything with Marcus…

  If only she could go back to a life of rising when the sun came up, spending her days on the land, and sleeping after a hard day’s work.

  Gods, she’d do anything to go back to that.

  The woman looked like she was going to make another snide comment before dismissing Cora completely, when Cora reached out a hand. “Can I borrow your phone?”

  “What?”
/>   “Can I borrow your phone? I forgot mine at home and there’s someone I need to make a call to.”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed in confusion but she opened her clutch and slid out her phone. “If you use it to text something to Marcus pretending to be me, he’ll see right through it.”

  Gods, the petty games these people played. “I’m not texting or calling Marcus.” Cora snatched the phone out of her hand and stared at her. “Do you mind waiting outside?”

  The woman snorted an amused laugh and sashayed to the door. She looked over her shoulder once as she grabbed the door handle. “I’ll be waiting right outside when you’re finished.”

  Cora nodded distractedly, already dialing.

  She glanced underneath the stalls, but the restroom was empty apart from her.

  “Hello?”

  Cora closed her eyes and leaned back against the counter at hearing her mother’s voice.

  “Mom.”

  “Cora!” A clatter sounded over the phone. “Cora, where are you? Where is he keeping you? Are you okay? Tell me where you are and we’ll be right there. We’ll kill that son of a bitch.”

  “No, mom,” Cora frowned. “I’m fine. It’s okay. I thought maybe we could—”

  “Where are you? I swear that bastard will never hurt you again. We’ll make him pay. I’ll cut his heart out of his chest and we’ll go back home where no one can ever hurt you again—”

  “Mom!” Cora spun around and slapped a hand on the counter. “Listen to me for a second. I’m fine.”

  “Tell me where you are,” her mom all but shouted.

  “Right now, at a gala at the Elysium hotel. And the rest of the time he’s keeping me at the Crown. Why didn’t you tell me about dad? And what he did?” She hadn’t meant to ask it, but it popped out.

  “Because you were never supposed to be part of this world. It was always supposed to be you and me. Just you and me. And that’s how it will be again. We’ll kill that son of a bitch and—”

  “No,” Cora said, irritated and angry. “I don’t want you or my uncles to hurt him.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized they were true.

  “What?”

  Cora stared at the floor and lifted a hand to her forehead.

  Gods, she was fucked up. Because it was true. She didn’t want Marcus hurt. And what that woman had said earlier, it had bothered her. She had been jealous.

  And as nice as farm life sounded…she couldn’t go back. It was too late for that. What she’d begun with Marcus, whatever this was, she had to either see it through or get out of it on her own.

  She looked at herself in the mirror. And now the woman reflected back didn’t look like as much of a stranger anymore. She looked pale but striking. The jewel tone red of the dress made her skin look luminous.

  “He’s gotten into your head.” Her mom stated it icily.

  Cora couldn’t deny it. Why wouldn’t she want all the retribution her mother was promising otherwise?

  “We haven’t been able to get into the city but we’re working on it, baby. We’re coming.” Her mother’s voice was so ice cold that it sent a chill down Cora’s spine.

  Cora had heard it like that before, usually before a punishment, one of the bad ones.

  “I have to go, Mom. I can figure this out on my own. I just wanted you to know I’m okay.”

  Cora hung up the phone before her mom could say anything else. And she strode to the door, opened it and all but slammed the phone down into the beautiful blonde’s hand.

  It had been stupid to take it and stupider to call her mother. Even hearing her voice brought it all back.

  The slaps if she burned the bacon at breakfast. Being shoved to the ground and locked out of the house if her mind wandered off and she was late returning from the fields. Denying her meals if Demi thought she was getting too thick around the middle. The daily barrage of demeaning words and name-calling.

  Yes, Marcus had put a collar on her. But he’d never once hit her. He didn’t call her names and if he continued allowing her freedoms like this, getting out of the penthouse, maybe even going back to volunteer at the shelter—

  So because he’s the lesser of two evils, suddenly he’s your knight in shining armor?

  “You know,” the woman whose name Cora still hadn’t learned, lifted an eyebrow at her coyly. “Marcus can be adventuresome in the bedroom. The next time he and I get together, it could be fun to have you as the third in our ménage à trois.”

  Cora glared at her. “You can go fuck yourself.”

  She strode back toward the table where Marcus was sitting. Marcus stood like he meant to pull her chair out for her but she jerked it out roughly before he could and sat down hard, keeping her eyes firmly forward at the auctioneer and not looking his way.

  Champagne had been served around the table and Cora grabbed her glass and tipped it backwards. It was bubbly and cool and in spite of the bite, she drank it all the way down. She reached for the untouched glass in front of Marcus but he swiftly put his hand out and stopped her.

  She glared his way. His eyes darkened and locked with hers in response. He did not look happy.

  Well fuck him too. She gave him a saccharine sweet smile. “Oh darling, I’m so thirsty,” she said loud enough for everyone else at the table to hear.

  “Have my water, sweetheart,” he replied, handing her his water goblet.

  She narrowed her eyes at him but accepted the water. She’d get her hands on more champagne later. If there was ever a night to get drunk, this was it. She didn’t care that she was only nineteen.

  Suddenly, Marcus lifted an auction paddle she hadn’t even realized he had in his lap and called out, “$50,000.”

  There were gasps from all around them and Cora sat up straighter, suddenly looking back and forth from the auctioneer at the front of the room to Marcus.

  “Well folks, that’s one expensive set of theater tickets. Do I have any other bids? Didn’t think so. Sold, to number forty-six.”

  Cora’s mouth dropped open. Did he just—? Her head swiveled back to Marcus.

  “What did you do?”

  He gave her his characteristic mouth twitch. “Donated to charity.”

  She stared at him as the auctioneer went on to rattle off the next item.

  She was left to stew in her own head about the evening, her mother, the woman in the black dress, and most of all, Marcus. She came to few conclusions about any of it other than the fact that she was very confused and probably couldn’t trust her own judgment.

  The auction finally finished and dinner was served. Armand chattered in her ear about city gossip and others around the table made polite conversation. When the subject of Marcus’s donation came up, a reckless hair struck Cora.

  “I’m not surprised,” Cora said, smiling at Marcus. “Marcus supports all sorts of charities. It’s one of the reasons we fell in love. He loves the fact that I spend so much time at a dog rescue shelter down on 35th and Thebes.” She turned her smile towards Marcus. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

  His eyes narrowed but he nodded. “Yes, I’ve always admired your generous spirit.”

  “Oh really?” said a man from across the table, leaning in in obvious interest. “I don’t know if I said, but I work for the New Olympian Post. Everyone is always curious about the elusive Mr. and now Mrs. Ubeli. I’d love to get a story on the charity.”

  “No,” Marcus said at the same time Cora clapped in apparent delight and said, “Yes! That’d be wonderful.”

  Marcus’s head swung her way and she continued smiling at him. “Oh come on, darling. You’re such a respected businessman about town.” She lifted a hand to straighten his tie even though it was already perfectly straight. “It’s natural that there’s curiosity about you.”

  Cora looked back to the reporter. “Come by this Tuesday. I’ll be volunteering then.”

  Underneath the table, Marcus’s hand clapped on Cora’s thigh. She turned back to him and gave him a glit
tering smile. “Maeve will be so delighted to share the shelter’s story.”

  Marcus smiled coolly, his eyes hard, before changing the topic. His hand, however, was still very much engaged, as it slid under the slit in the side of her gown up her inner thigh.

  Cora had to hide her gasp by taking a quick sip of water.

  Marcus’s hand didn’t stop there, though. With one hand he ate his smoked salmon and with the other, he continued his path up her thigh until he was nudging her panties aside and then, oh—

  Cora’s fingers went white knuckled around her fork as he thrust a finger inside her. Right there at the dinner table. In a room with hundreds of people. While she was wearing a designer gown and Marcus chatted with another man about the current state of the stock market.

  How dare he—

  Oh. Oh—

  The pleasure quickened her stomach, sharp and surprising. She sank back in her chair and opened her legs as wide as the dress would allow.

  No. What the hell was she doing? She couldn’t—

  Oh! Two of his long, thick fingers explored her now, in and out, stroking through her folds and up to her clit before pushing inexorably inside her again.

  It was wrong. So, so wrong for her to be enjoying this.

  Her chest rose and fell sharply as pleasure radiated throughout her body, warm lapping waves. She clutched her water glass and bit her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out. Oh gods. Oh yes. Oh yes. Right there. Just like that.

  It was coming— Oh! She wanted to throw her head back and close her eyes. But none of them could know what he was doing to her. She didn’t even want to admit what he was doing to her. His fingers worked her even more furiously.

  The climax hit soft at first but it spread, wave after wave, radiating out from her center. A lightness so pure and freeing she wanted to hold onto it forever. The things Marcus made her feel, oh gods. The things he made her feel—

  He kept stroking her through it, more languidly now as she rode the crest, riding it and riding it and riding it—

  He clutched her entire pussy in his large hand and massaged it as the waves subsided. A tremor rocked her body that she couldn’t help and her eyes flew open. Shit, she hadn’t even realized they dropped closed but the pleasure had been all-consuming.