by Piper Stone
I shuddered from his question because the sad truth was that I couldn’t tell him the reason why. I had no understanding of why the prosecuting attorney had coerced me into something I’d initially refused to do. Of course I’d figured out exactly who Cristiano King and his family were. The entire ugly scene had been splashed across the news, speculation that the murder had been a hit on every nightly report for almost a week. I’d made the mistake of going to the police prior to having any knowledge of who the person responsible was, something I’d regretted almost instantly.
While I was the kind of woman who believed in doing the right thing, I also wasn’t some kind of ridiculous fool. I enjoyed living, for God’s sake, and I wanted to continue doing so. I closed my eyes briefly, still able to see the vicious face of the attorney as he’d accused me at being an accomplice to a member of another equally horrific group of criminals.
“I know this isn’t something you could understand, Cristiano. It would appear that you’ve always gotten everything you wanted in your life easily. However, I am a woman of integrity and honor. I believe in the good of mankind and when I was forced to see you kill that man in cold blood, I couldn’t… I would never be able to look myself in the mirror if I hadn’t gone to the police and testified to what I’d seen.”
The quiet in the room was palpable.
“Are you telling me the truth, Emily, because if you aren’t, your punishment will be severe.”
Severe. He made the statement as if what he’d already done to me had been nothing. “I’m not lying. Maybe you don’t know anyone who follows the rules, but I do.” As soon as I issued the words, I sucked in my breath. I’d fallen into a trap of my own making.
Cristiano chuckled again and I knew he was getting off the bed. Maybe to retrieve his gun. I held my arm, my other hand shaking. I wasn’t certain I cared what he did to me. I wasn’t going to be threatened on a daily basis.
“I’m very glad to hear that you’re the kind of woman who follows rules, which means that you will follow mine. It’s time for bed.”
I took one last gulp of the drink, jumping when I heard a sound then daring to open my eyes. He’d placed his glass on the bar and walked toward his dresser. I was right. He was going to kill me. I pressed my hand over my mouth to keep from whimpering.
“We will discuss this further in the morning.”
When he turned around, my eyes fell to the pair of handcuffs in his hand. I scuttled back on the bed, struggling to place the glass on the nightstand, blinking furiously in some crazy effort to hide my tears.
He followed my gaze, smirking in his usual sexy way. “This is just for the night until I can make better arrangements. I know you will attempt to get away and I simply can’t have that.”
I jerked backward, hitting the nightstand.
“Unless you’d prefer to spend the night in the cage.”
“Can I at least go to the bathroom?”
He cocked his head, nodding after a few seconds. “Fine. Don’t take too long. Do not lock the door. I will not hesitate to kick it in.”
I rushed toward the bathroom door, my entire body shaking, fumbling to find the light. When I closed the door, I slumped against the counter, struggling to catch my breath. Crying wasn’t going to do any good. Nothing would help the situation or to get me out of this. No one was coming to help me.
Very slowly I turned around, looking over my shoulder at the redness covering my bottom. I ran my fingers across my skin, cringing from the buildup of heat. I would be sore in the morning. A laugh threatened to bubble to the surface. As if my aching buttocks were anything to worry about.
I turned on the water, leaning over the sink. An ugly memory flashed into the forefront of my mind, the horrible words the attorney had said to me.
“If you don’t want to go to prison for a long time, you are going to help us.”
“I didn’t do anything!” I exclaimed, uncertain of what the hell he was getting at.
He laughed, rearing back as he glared down at me. “And you and I know better. Does this look familiar?”
As he dropped several pieces of paper in front of me, scattering them across the table, I tried to catch on to what he was getting at. The letterhead was from the company I worked for, but I didn’t recognize anything else. “What are these?”
“Incriminating evidence that your firm is nothing more than a front for one very dangerous man. So here’s how we’re going to play this. You’re going to provide a very secure deposition and you’re going to continue working for Bayou Market Analysis, only you’re going to provide us with information.”
I should have known the entire situation would get me killed.
The hard knock on the door jerked me back to reality.
“It’s time,” Cristiano said with no emotion.
Time.
Time had no meaning any longer.
When I opened the door, he took the time to shift his dead eyes to my toes and back to my face before stepping away from me. As I made my way back to the bed, all I could do was shiver. After getting under the covers, I stared at the ceiling, doing everything I could to block out the horror I was facing.
“Arm over your head, Emily.”
There was no point in arguing. I simply did as I was told. Within seconds, he’d attached the cold steel around my wrist, the other section placed around a hook attached to the bed. My God. He’d done this before with another woman.
“Is that too tight?” he asked, brushing his fingers down my extended arm.
“No.” Asshole. Jerk. Bastard. I didn’t have the courage to mutter the nasty words any longer. I was far too tired, running out of steam.
“Good.”
Leaning over, I could swear the man was going to kiss me goodnight. Then he simply turned, moving swiftly to the dresser and retrieving the gun and his knife before turning out the light.
I continued to cringe, trying to adjust the covers over my shaking body. There was no way I would be able to sleep.
While I knew he’d gotten in the bed, he made no sound, none at all.
The darkness was overwhelming, creating monsters in my mind. As I tugged the covers even higher, I realized that the creatures I’d seen in nightmares as a child were nothing in comparison to the beast lying next to me.
When I closed my eyes, I made a vow to myself.
Somehow, some way, I would manage to kill him.
In. Cold. Blood.
Chapter 8
Cristiano
Nightmares.
I’d had them my entire life, often awakening me in a cold sweat. While I almost never remembered any details, I knew in my gut they were bloody as fuck. If I had to guess, I’d say some psychiatrist would have a field day, telling me that my guilt was the reason.
Bullshit.
I knew better.
But as I stared at the ceiling in the darkness of my own home, I was beginning to wonder what the fuck I was doing with my life. I had significant wealth including from cash, stocks, and real estate. Hell, I even owned three of the most expensive sports cars that had ever been manufactured. I could have any woman I wanted on my arm.
But there was no joy in my life.
Except when I handled the business of the King family.
Sighing, I could sense her presence in the darkness, the scent of her covering every inch of my body. My cock ached just thinking about being inside of her, taking her without hesitation. I hadn’t really thought about the fact I’d only spent a few nights next to a woman in my bed, hell, any bed for that matter. I’d never wanted to be that close, exposing any concept of a weakness.
The single woman I’d allowed into my life had been… difficult, our coupling a product of families attempting to make peace instead of war. I’d wanted no part of the glitzy attempt at putting us together, a possible arranged marriage. I’d made no bones about that fact with my father.
Only to be met with his rage.
This was something entirely different, a catch that had seemed simp
le at first. And now? There were far too many complications, as well as reasons I’d snatched her from her home. Keeping her a secret could prove to be an additional path of undermining the family.
Fuck.
I thought about Emily’s reaction to the bed and smiled. I’d seen the light in her eyes as she stroked the wood. I had no idea why the fact she appreciated pieces of furniture made me happy.
But it did.
I shifted onto my side, able to catch a slight glimpse of her from the slender strip of moonlight coming in through the blinds.
She’d also turned onto her side and away from me, although I had my doubts that she was asleep. Her fear of me remained, her anxiety over what to tell me, if anything, obvious. I also was well aware she was lying to me about why she’d testified. There was something significant she was hiding.
Terror of what I would do or something worse?
My instinct told me the latter.
Whatever it was, she still had no understanding that she’d awakened the beast. I reached out, almost touching her shoulder then yanking my hand away. This wasn’t about some romantic getaway. There would be no caring shared between us, no trust built. How could there be?
I purposely rolled over, refusing to grasp that I actually liked the girl. She had nerve, defiance that refused to take into account the power I wielded. That took the kind of courage few men had ever shown. Frustrated, my cock still aching, I slid my hand under the sheets, rolling my fingers around my cockhead. I’d enjoyed every second of taking her. As I closed my eyes, I tried to think about my next steps.
Finding out what the hell Lucian had actually accomplished in my absence.
Finding out the reason I’d been set up in the first place.
Determining if I needed to retaliate against the Azzurris.
Then… I’d determine the fate of sweet, beautiful Emily.
A luscious flower.
A precious gift.
A noose around my neck.
Shifting, I slowly opened my eyes, reeling immediately from the fact daylight was streaming in through the blinds. My instincts kicking in, I snapped my hand around the gun even before I planted my feet on the floor, tossing the fucking covers that had weighed me down. I scanned the room, certain that I’d heard a noise, an intruder in the house. When I realized there was nothing but quiet, utter silence, I was forced to take several deep breaths.
While I lowered the weapon, I refused to allow it to leave my hand.
Huffing, I took long strides toward the open doorway, peering into the hall. The same blissful quiet continued. No longer did I have to hear the clangs of prison doors as the morning wakeup call slammed the heavy metal against the concrete walls. No longer would I have to endure the bullshit growls and groans of the fucking assholes who were imprisoned in the system. And no longer would I have to conceal the shank every single time I attempted to take a shower.
The fact I hadn’t been given solitary confinement was a testament to the legal system. Somehow, our influence had bypassed the various men on our payroll. The attorney and the judge had been determined to make an example out of me.
Fuck them.
They would have their day in court.
After chuckling at the images in my head, I remembered that I wasn’t in the bed alone.
Or was that the case?
Exhaling, I shifted my attention back into the room, slowly padding toward the other side of the bed. The sight of sleeping beauty eased the tension.
Even though her presence was damning.
As I peered down, I could tell she’d attempted to tug her wrist from the manacle, the red marks and scratches indicating she’d almost succeeded. While her fingers were beautiful and long, her bone structure was slight, a fragile bird.
A delicate flower.
A woman with a warrior’s heart.
At least she was sleeping peacefully.
I took a glance at the clock. After seven. There was far too much to do. When I returned my gaze to my captive, her stark, cold eyes were waiting for mine, her entire face pinched from fury and frustration.
“Good morning, Emily.”
“So very formal,” she hissed.
“You shouldn’t have struggled, although I knew you would, which is why I can’t trust you.” I moved toward the dresser, finding the key to the handcuffs, placing my gun on the edge.
“Trust. You spout off words like trust to me?” she laughed, the spunk from the night before even more intensified.
I was surprised that spending a night beside the man she called a murderer hadn’t quieted her fight. Then again, I did enjoy a good sparring event. “I have a very busy day today.” As I attempted to unlock her from her overnight shackle, she did everything she could to fight me.
Without hesitation, I wrapped my hand around her throat, pinned her against the bed. “You need to listen to me very carefully, Emily. I will not take a single minute of your misbehavior today and I will have no problem tossing you back into that cage. Do you understand what I’m telling you or should I give you a firm reminder of what you might be facing for hours at a time?”
She blinked several times, her eyes glassing over. “I’ll… be good.”
“Uh-huh. And you’re going to learn respect. For me. For my house. For my soldiers. You have one other alternative.” Squeezing, the power I had in my hand was unlike the sensations I’d experienced while controlling or condemning assholes who chose unwisely to turn against me. This time, my conscience sparked, something I loathed. However, I didn’t need to warn her any further.
Her eyes held compliance instead of rebellion.
When I released my hold, she didn’t move, although her body continued to tremble. I unsnapped the cuff, immediately rubbing her wrist. “You’re going to bruise.”
“So what?” She recoiled after issuing the words, hugging the covers over her body.
Exhaling, I left the shackles attached to the bed. They would likely come in handy at a later time.
“I need to take a shower.”
“And what about me?” she asked in a whispered voice.
“You’re coming with me.” I yanked her out of bed, pulling her behind me, snagging my weapon before entering the bathroom. “Get in the shower.”
I heard a single whimper before she complied, slipping inside the oversized bathing area. Showers had always given me a respite, much like indulging in a glass of cognac or a good cigar. Today was entirely different. Just seeing her voluptuous body as she crowded toward the back was more arousing than I’d felt the night before.
With the gun placed on the counter, I turned on the water, immediately stepping inside. As I lowered my head, allowing the hot water to cascade over me, I could still hear her ragged breathing. After running my fingers through my hair, I turned to face her, inching closer as I allowed my mind to wander to all the lurid, sadistic things I craved doing to her. At some point, I’d introduce her to my playroom, a location that I’d insisted on having, yet one I’d never used.
I almost laughed at the thought. My sexual appetites were considered far too extreme for the majority of women, even those who frequented some of the most intense BDSM clubs. However, I’d never had the opportunity to indulge in every aspect of training an innocent, someone who had never been introduced to the dark art. With this woman, I would enjoy taking the time.
Shackling her.
Disciplining her.
Marking her lovely body.
Breaking her.
And fucking her as often as I desired.
I was a sick man, one capable of doing heinous things.
When I planted my hands on either side of her, she lifted her chin. Still so blatantly defiant. Still so utterly exquisite. And still refusing to accept my authority.
I lowered my head, drinking in her delicious scent, filling my lungs with her fragrance.
Her breathing remained scattered and she planted her hands against the cool marble, studying me just as intently as before.
“If you’re trying to look into my soul—”
“You have no soul,” she interrupted. “None. And your heart is pitch black.”
“Interesting for a woman who’s only known me a few hours.”
“I know your type. You enjoy displaying your power, using violence as your only tool of interrogation as well as intimidation.”
I gave her words consideration. “Perhaps you are right. However, utilizing intellectual conversation with basic thugs hasn’t been well received.”
“Then maybe you need to enter into another business.”
Chuckling, I leaned further over until our lips were only centimeters apart. “That’s a very good point, Emily.”
“Stop saying my name.”
“What would you prefer I call you?” I asked as I rubbed my face against hers, the softness of her skin creating another wave of hunger burning deep within me. “Kitten? Pumpkin? Pet?”
“Nothing.”
I brushed my lips against hers, expecting her to recoil, but there was so much electricity sparking between us that her body shifted involuntarily, her back arching. Her slight actions pushed our lips together, leaving me tingling all over, my cock now at full attention. As my cockhead pushed against her stomach, I captured her mouth, holding still for several seconds and enjoying the taste of her.
She shivered but parted her lips, allowing me to dart my tongue inside. The connection was undeniable, the vibrations shared between us more powerful than the night before. I took my time exploring the dark recesses of her mouth, swirling my tongue back and forth.
While she remained still at first, trying not to engage in our moment of passion, her resolve crumbled with each passing second, her tongue shifting against mine.
I became more forceful, crushing my mouth against hers, pinning her against the wall as the act of intimacy intensified. As I dominated her tongue, she moaned into the kiss, her slender hands pressing against my chest.
Only she wasn’t pushing, attempting to force me away. Her fingers were digging into my skin, kneading my muscles. Just the way she touched me drew me further into a delicious haze of longing, thirsty to taste every inch of her, hungry to fill her mouth, pussy, and tight asshole with my cock.
