Rhapsody: Interracial French Mafia Romance (The Butcher and the Violinist Book 1)

by Kenya Wright

  And there were no words to assure me of this. Just action. Caresses. Kisses. The time we spent together. The moments we held each other and listened to our breaths.

  I’ve already lost control.

  Something about saying that in my mind, pushed me further out into the deep.

  I tipped my head back and bucked my hips. No more restraints. No more worry about feeling too much pleasure. Enjoying him too much.

  He gripped my hips.

  I let it all go from there.

  Moving faster.

  Bouncing on his cock.

  Rubbing my clit against those abs.

  Riding the wave of ecstasy unfolding inside of me.

  Groaning, he moved his hands from my hips. One cupped my ass, continuing to guide my rhythm on that fat cock.

  I moaned, “Oh—”

  He swallowed my gasps with hot kiss. With his other hand, he reached up to my hair, gripped the back, and fisted wet strands in his hand. “There is no control with you, Eden.”

  His hold was tight.

  Possessive.

  Dominating.

  He drove his tongue between my lips, fucking me with his mouth as well as his cock stroking my pussy.

  So close to coming, I whimpered into his mouth.

  He gently tugged, pulling my head back. It raised me higher as I arched forward, unable to help myself.

  “Tu es mon Hélène de Troie. Ma sirène.” He dove his mouth on my cleavage, lapping at my bobbling nipples.

  I cried out.

  He whispered in a husky voice, “Oh, say my name again, mon amour.”

  “Jean-Pierre.”

  “Oui, mon amour.”

  “Jean-Pierre, I’m coming.”

  “Yes. Come for me, Eden. Come for me.” He slowed his strokes, driving me even closer to the edge. He let go of my hair and kissed me. “Say my name, when you come.”

  Trembling against his wet, hard body, I orgasmed all over that long, thick cock, moaning, “Jean-Pierre.”

  “Enfin, tu es à moi.”

  Chapter 31

  Welcome Back

  Two months ago

  Jean-Pierre

  For the first time in three years, I stood in the center of the Candy Shop.

  We’d entered through the back entrance.

  Shalimar and our men had not been notified. We weren’t even sure our secret re-entry to the city would work. I just wanted to test Sasha’s loyalty.

  I’d given him my men.

  They sat on the outskirts of the Bronx, staying to themselves and keeping their eyes open. Sasha claimed he would kill Kazimir in two months. I’d had more men set to come to America. Several surrounded Kazimir’s Uncle Igor’s castle. If Kazimir’s death was confirmed, I would have Igor murdered.

  Then, Celina’s strongest resource would be eliminated.

  Rafael and I walked down the hall.

  Half-naked women lounged in the sofas, ready and on display for all onlooker’s attention.

  Celina had taken the news of her guard-switch hard. Sasha explained that she’d yelled at Igor. Meanwhile, Igor had given the task to Sasha, labeling it as bitch work, something Sasha could understand better than him.

  The next day, Sasha’s Russians arrived. About ten of Igor’s men remained. The rest left Belladonna and returned to Prague.

  Sasha and I had met in a bathhouse down in Manhattan. It had been my favorite meeting of the year. Finally, I had a breakthrough in this war. My enemies would take themselves out, without anyone knowing about my involvement.

  Sasha was trying to prove himself. If he knocked out Kazimir, he would take all the glory.

  The steam room soothed my muscles.

  Only wearing a towel, Sasha leaned against the wet marble wall. His short blonde hair was slicked back. Steam rose around him. “On your return to Belladonna, kill Igor’s remaining men and then send me their heads.”

  “Where will you be?” I asked.

  “Back in New York. Send it to the brothel I showed you earlier.”

  “And how will you kill Kazimir?”

  “That is my information.”

  I nodded.

  “When will you go to Belladonna?” he asked.

  “I will leave this evening.”

  “You’re eager to see your violinist?”

  “I am.”

  “Then, may your union be successful.”

  Ten hours later, I found myself in Belladonna.

  Sasha’s men met us in secret at the airport. They let us know that Celina had been so preoccupied with us, that she didn’t spend time at the Candy Shop much anymore. Shalimar had most of the reign each day.

  Celina popped in a few times, but no more than three times in a month.

  We’d been assured that all her moves would be reported to us.

  We just had to take care of Igor’s remaining men. They stayed close to Celina. She would begin to notice their disappearance, so we would have to grab the lower level ones first. The closer we got to Kazimir’s date of assassination, the more we would kill them all.

  Could this all be so simple? And how will I get Eden in time?

  I had less than two months to meet and take her away. There weren’t many ways I could convince her. Kidnapping would be out of the question. I would need to turn on the charm to the highest degree. There could be no half-stepping.

  Once Kazimir died, I would need to get Igor. Then, Celina would be clued in to what was going on. Only God knew what other resources she had. Therefore, I had to gain Eden’s trust in that short time too.

  Would she understand it all? How soon should I tell her? It can’t be the first time I meet her. She would think I was a crazy man.

  Giorgio met us near the Candy Shop’s kitchen entrance. He re-assured me that Celina was far away, and no one had been notified of our arrival, except for Shalimar.

  Rafael growled. “You told her?” From there, we moved through the brothel with ease.

  “I told her Rafael was here,” Giorgio said. “She asked me to warn her.”

  “And you listened?” Rafael snorted.

  “Did you tell her that I was here?” I asked.

  “No, but that was only because she was so upset Rafael was here and stormed off. She said she had someone to meet and show around. Shalimar wanted me to take you all upstairs and meet with her there.” Giorgio quirked his eyebrows.

  Rafael shook his head. “No. You all go to the dining room. I need to meet with Shalimar on my own.”

  I eyed him. “Once you two talk, then bring Shalimar down to the dining room.”

  “Okay.” Rafael headed off to the stairs.

  Giorgio guided me toward the dining room. “How did you get to enter Belladonna without Celina knowing?”

  “I’ll catch you up later. Let’s get something to eat.”

  We stepped into the dining room. The place was more packed than usual. Several men and women crowded the tables.

  Everyone’s attention was on a nude woman dancing on the stage.

  A waitress turned to us, spotted Giorgio and hurried our way. “I’m sorry, Giorgio. I will take your guests and you to your table immediately.”

  Apparently, Giorgio is the big guy around the Candy Shop these days.

  She took us to our table.

  Giorgio gave me the center of the table. He sat down on my left. Louis went to my right. The rest of my men found their spots.

  The waitress winked at me. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Something cute,” I said. “See if the bartender knows how to make a French 75?”

  “Champagne, lemon juice, simple syrup, and gin?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ll get that for you.”

  “Thank you.” I gestured to the stage. “What’s going on after the dancing? Will there be live music tonight or more dancing?”

  “Yes to the live music.” She grinned. “We have a violinist. Some are saying it’s the owner’s niece.”

  My heart paus
ed for a second.

  No. She couldn’t be telling the truth.

  This had to be a cruel joke. There was no way Celina had fought me, and built a wall around Eden, only to ruin the Belladonna Symphony and have her niece playing in a brothel.

  No. This is a misunderstanding. Celina must have another niece that Louis didn’t find.

  The waitress walked off.

  I stared at the stage, not even seeing the dancing women in front of me. All I could think about were the possibilities that could come from this night. I didn’t know if the waitress was correct or not. It would be a cruel joke if Eden walked right onto this stage this evening.

  All the ways that I’d dreamt of meeting her—after one of her performances, on a sunny day in a park, or maybe even casually walking up to her at a bar. I’d come up with many moments to accidentally meet her, but never at a brothel.

  No. This isn’t the way I want to meet her.

  Louis cursed next to me, and I knew that Eden must’ve walked in.

  I looked in his direction. Fury hit me.

  Eden stood right at the entrance. Shalimar talked to her on her side, pointing to different places in the room and then to the stage.

  Eden. Jesus Christ. You’re right there. Right in front of me. And in a fucking brothel for god-sakes.

  I drank in my beautiful siren. She had on a mask, but I knew it was her. I’d studied that chin and the way her black curls dangled along her face. I could point those full lips out of a crowd and those lovely eyes too.

  I lowered my view, taking in the elegant dress that formed against her sensual frame. In her hands, she held my sweet Belladonna.

  For these past years, I’d watched them both from my computer screen. I fell asleep to her playing. Those songs seeped into my dreams. They became the soundtrack to my life.

  And now she’s here.

  I stared at the violin case.

  Celina has Belladonna and Eden in this filthy place.

  More rage hit me.

  Louis whispered next to me, “Calm down, Jean-Pierre.”

  “I am calm.”

  “You look like you’re going to kill someone.”

  “I’m not happy that Celina has Eden playing in a goddamn brothel.”

  “Still,” Louis nodded her way. “You’re creeping out Eden.”

  What? She sees me?

  I looked up at Eden.

  Time froze, when my eyes met hers for the first time. My tongue went thick in my mouth. My breathing grew shallow. My heart boomed impossibly fast.

  On the screen her eyes had been a subtle hazel, now those eyes glowed like the sun rises over Paris. And I very much wanted to feel their burn.

  So close.

  Closer than I’d ever been before.

  I could grab her now and run away. Everything in my body yearned to take her. Gritting my teeth, I gripped the edge of the table hard. Shalimar turned my way and widened her eyes.

  Stay quiet, Shalimar. Don’t ruin this for me.

  Shalimar whispered something to Eden. I wished I could make out the words. Eden nodded, turned away for a few seconds, and then looked back at me.

  You’re going to be mine one day.

  Eden left Shalimar. Behind Eden’s back, Shalimar motioned and pointed upstairs as if she was telling me to meet her up there.

  I tilted Giorgio’s way. “Take Shalimar up to Rafael. They need to talk. I’ll stay here with Eden.”

  Giorgio followed my orders and left.

  I concentrated on Eden.

  Slowly, she walked onto the stage and I had to force myself to breathe.

  A man jumped onto the stage with a microphone and placed it next to her. Next, he brought a chair.

  Was this worth it, Celina? Eden should be on a stage in Paris. Now she’s on a tiny stage in your brothel, and she’s still not safe from me.

  I held my wicked grin back, unable to truly move.

  When I’d woken up this morning, I’d only planned to meet Sasha at the bathhouse. Later, I would’ve flown to Belladonna with hope in my heart. Now this evening, I sat in front of Eden as she began to play on the stage.

  Whatever God has done this, I will pray to it for the rest of my life.

  Eden sat down and pulled Belladonna out.

  The audience’s chatter hushed.

  The light dimmed.

  She scanned the space. For a second, her view stopped on me.

  I froze again like an idiot. At the bare minimum, I hoped I didn’t have that angry look on my face since earlier. I just wanted to be prepared when I saw her.

  This wasn’t the way we were supposed to meet, Eden.

  She gave me a nervous smile. And I’d never seen anything so gorgeous in my life. Her lips were a shiny, dark plum. The bottom curve was much fuller than the top.

  I yearned to bite it and then suck it into my mouth. I’d never had such a powerful need to kiss someone.

  Soon.

  She cleared her throat and played.

  As soon as the bow hit the string, I lost my senses.

  Fuck.

  My body hummed to her song more than ever before. So close to her, every part of me came alive. My ears woke up. My view brightened. My skin warmed and I tasted a sweetness on my tongue.

  Visions played in my head. Images of her blindfolded and tied to my bed. Helpless and hungry for pleasure.

  Until Eden, I’d never wanted to bury myself in someone so badly. For these years of war, I’d been existing in a continuous state of arousal. And I never let another woman satisfy it. I doubted another woman could.

  Soon she’ll be in my arms.

  Louis leaned my way. “What do you want to do? Should we take her after she finishes playing?”

  I kept my attention on her, drowning in the music. I didn’t even want to stop for a second and respond to Louis.

  He persisted, “I could get a van to wait out back.”

  “Kidnapping her is not an option.”

  “But we have the opportunity to grab her.”

  “No. I have the opportunity to talk to her tonight.”

  “We’ve gone too far to just have you talk to her, Jean-Pierre.”

  “True, but in the end, the choice would always be Eden’s to make.”

  Louis mumbled, “For all the men that have died, she better make the right choice.”

  “No one’s ever complained as the money has piled up these years.”

  Louis went silent. Since this conflict with Celina, he’d bought his third house and was considering purchasing a yacht. Men had died, but these years of war had done all of us good.

  Never mind war. I finally have Eden in front of me.

  “How will you get her then?” Louis asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “A brothel wasn’t where I’d planned to meet her.”

  “Maybe you should proposition her. We are in a brothel after all.”

  “No. I doubt Celina has her niece working like that. And I didn’t avoid whores all these years to then treat Eden like one.”

  Louis shrugged. “Celina took down the Belladonna Symphony. I doubt she’s letting any other symphonies get close to audition her. And now Eden’s playing in a brothel. She’s probably desperate.”

  I studied Eden.

  She tapped her feet along with the rhythm and played like a true skilled musician. But there was something deep within her eyes. Something growing with each bow movement. Rising each time she shifted into a new song.

  “You’re right, Louis.” I gripped the table harder. “Eden’s desperate and hungry.”

  “Then, you can get her like that.”

  My gut twisted at the possibility. “I’ll have to think about this. Until then, find out why she’s playing in the Candy Shop and if it will happen again.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.” I leaned back in my chair. “I’ll be here all night.”

  The beast within, le Boucher, he yearned to take Eden now and hide her away from the world.


  I can’t. Not yet.

  Chapter 32

  A Sexy Extension

  Eden

  After we made love, Jean-Pierre showed me Paris. I doubted most tourists had the opportunity of such a gorgeous and passionate tour guide.

  Jean-Pierre’s heart lay within the very boundaries of the French capital. How beautiful, when it was coined the city of love. It was easy to see the romantic appeal. And just like with him, the place made my knees go week.

  I would never be able to come to this city again and not think of him.

  After breakfast we walked hand-in-hand along the charming cobbled streets of Montmartre and the Marais.

  We went shopping, driving to chic boutiques and designer stores. All around each place echoed Paris’ fascination with art, fashion, and jewelry. When we entered, the clerks politely asked other customers to leave, closed the place up, and brought out champagne. Everyone greeted him with respect as they said his name.

  Sipping champagne, Jean-Pierre had me model several dresses. I took sips from his glass each time I strolled out. By the time we finished, both of us had become a little tipsy. He bought the dresses I loved and added a backless gown that he loved most of all.

  Back in the limo, I begged him to model for me. I was interested in his style and the way he liked to shop.

  How could I not be intrigued by this man?

  I soon learned, that while I loved to shop, I’d met my match with him.

  We drove to his exclusive tailor.

  When we stepped in, the other man that had been getting measured, nodded at Jean-Pierre, grabbed his jacket, and left.

  The shop held an elegance on its own. Polished mahogany walls. Smooth lighting. The scent of expensive cologne lingered in the air.

  The tailor shook Jean-Pierre’s hand as they spoke in a cheery French. A few times Jean-Pierre gestured to me and the man nodded my way.

  “This is Alexandre,” Jean-Pierre said. “He’s been my tailor since my mother, and I moved here.” He turned and signaled to the right. “And this is his son, Victor.”

  Victor looked around my age. He pushed a silver tray out. Some sort of fountain stood on top. It seemed funny to think, but the fountain was shaped like a woman who had her hands elegantly spread out at her sides. Silver made up her legs and arms. Glass served as the body. There were four taps covered in carvings of leaves.