by Piper Stone
Dead wrong.
A surge of anger and hatred rushed into me. The single purchase stripped everything away that might have been good about the beautiful attire. He only wanted one thing.
My total submission.
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you!
I couldn’t think the words enough.
I wanted to rip everything into shreds and almost did. Then my common sense took over. I had nothing to wear but the dress I was in. Whatever was going to happen, I would need shoes in order to flee. The thought gave me another chuckle, visions of attempting to run away from him laughable. He was never going to let me go.
After turning away for a second time, I thought about the expression he’d worn a few seconds ago.
As if he wanted to say something.
As if he wanted to apologize.
Could a man like Cristiano actually do that? No. He would never admit he was wrong. And what about his statement regarding his family? If he was so damn close to them, why the hell didn’t he have any photographs? Not one.
If spending a couple thousand dollars on providing clothing was some kind of olive branch, he didn’t know me very well. It would take a hell of a lot more than that to get me to like him. My God. What was I thinking? This wasn’t a fantasy. This was a sickening reality.
I nursed the wine for a couple of minutes, curiosity getting the better of me. The wine would wait. After moving into the hallway, I listened for any sounds. It was impossible to hear anything over the music. I inched closer to the stairs, looking from one side of the house to the other. He was nowhere in sight.
If a man like Cristiano kept anything personal, he would certainly keep the items where no one else was likely to find them. Near his bed. I took the stairs two at a time, the slight creaks the treads made creating a surge of adrenaline. I quickened my pace, rushing into the bedroom and turning on the lamp on the dresser. After glancing over my shoulder, I opened the drawers, sifting through the contents.
Socks.
Underwear.
Tee shirts.
Everything was normal.
I dropped to the floor, opening the last two drawers. While one held several journals or ledgers, there was nothing personal. I knew my time was running out before he’d come to find me. One more drawer. Just one more drawer. My hands shaking, I opened it, finding a couple of sweaters. There had to be more. I shoved my hand underneath, finding an inch-thick envelope.
After pulling it into the light, I hurriedly untied the string keeping the flap from opening. The contents contained what appeared to be police reports. What? When a picture fell from in between, I was even more confused. The little girl couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen, although given the way she was dressed, I wasn’t certain. She was beautiful; her face serene, her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders. I could see a clear resemblance to Cristiano.
I continued to shake as I turned the photograph over. There was a single word written on the top corner.
Bella.
There was no way of knowing how long I’d been staring at it, but my gut told me too long. I shoved the items back in the envelope, trying to remember exactly where it had been placed, then quietly closed the drawer. I scampered out of the room, almost forgetting to turn off the light. As I raced down the stairs, the creaking sound seemed louder.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I scampered into the kitchen, almost knocking over the wine in my attempt to grab it. He would certainly burst into the room at any moment.
When a full five minutes passed and he hadn’t returned, I became jittery, making my way into the hallway once again. Very slowly I walked down the corridor, finally able to catch the sound of Cristiano’s deep voice.
I held my breath and walked closer to the partially open door, listening intently.
“Yeah, well, I have to agree with Joseph, Pops. There doesn’t seem to be anything else I can do.” Cristiano’s tone held an edge. I was also able to hear his deep sigh and then a slight chuckle. “I know. You didn’t think your son was ever going to get married. Did you, Pops? And yes, I’m just planning a small wedding. Family, maybe a few friends.”
Wedding? What the hell was he talking about? I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath.
“Her name?” Cristiano asked. “Emily. I need to come and see you tomorrow. We have some business to discuss. Have a good night.”
No. No. No!
Marriage?
This had to be a joke.
There was no fucking way I was going to marry him. None. Unable to stop my reaction, I stormed into the room, stars floating in front of my eyes, moving all the way in front of his desk. I couldn’t stop my actions or the hate spewing from my mouth.
Even if he killed me.
I’d rather be dead than to marry a monster.
“How dare you!” I yelled as I tossed the contents of the glass in his face. “I’m not going to ever marry you. I don’t care if you chain me or beat me. I don’t care if you lock me in a cage. You can’t force me to marry someone I don’t give a shit about.”
He didn’t react at first. Finally, he brushed the remnants of wine from his face, shaking his head just once. Then he planted his fists on his desk, leaning over and giving me a hard, cold stare. “I own you, Emily. Now I’m losing my patience with your tirades. The day you went against me was the day your fate was sealed.”
“Went against you? I’m not certain anyone ever could because they know you’ll kill them.”
He laughed, the sound sending chills down my spine. “That is entirely accurate. You have no choice.”
Oh, my God. He was serious.
I caught another glimpse of his gun and I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d shot anyone during his absence. How could I ever care about a man who I’d question every time he left the house? Own. The word had the sound of an ending, not a beginning.
“No. You will never own me.” I wasn’t prepared for him to grab my wrists, dragging me over the desk. There was nothing but anger in his eyes, his mouth twisted from his rage.
“Yes, I do. We are getting married. You will be my wife.”
I had no idea what to say or think. This was outrageous. This was… He was protecting himself. That’s exactly what this was.
“Why? Why?”
“Because it’s the only way I can remain out of prison. And it’s the only way I can keep you safe. There is a contract out on both our lives.”
A contract? This was insane.
The statement was hard to hear, the words ringing in my ears. While he spoke words of protection, I was literally nothing but a possession to him. I struggled, fighting with everything I had, finally able to get out of his firm grip, the force I used tossing me backwards and onto the floor. I crawled away, never taking my eyes off him.
Cristiano took calculated steps around his desk, walking in my direction as I continued to crawl backwards.
“Is that why you had one of your flunkies purchase all those nice things? To bribe me? To get me to agree? Well, that’s never going to happen.”
“I purchased those beautiful things because I thought you’d like them. I wanted to fucking make you happy.” He grabbed me by the wrists again, dragging me to my feet and onto my tiptoes, his fingers digging into my arms.
“You’re hurting me,” I managed, my voice little more than a whisper. “What are you going to do, spank me again? Maybe pull out your belt?” Somewhere in my mind, I knew what I was doing was the wrong thing, but I was unable to stop, fueled by the horror of what he was suggesting.
No, what he was demanding.
Tears sprang to my eyes again and this time, I was unable to stop them.
“That’s exactly what I should do,” he said, although his tone had softened. He darted his eyes back and forth. “They will come for you. They will try and hurt you. I can’t allow that to happen. I won’t allow anyone to touch you. No one.”
Shock tore through my system when he crushed his m
outh over mine, moving one hand to entangle his fingers in my hair, the other shifting down and cupping my bottom. As he cradled me against him, his throbbing cock digging into my stomach, I could tell he was conflicted. Anger and hate against whatever enemy was threatening his world had stripped him of all rationality.
As he held me, the same desire that I’d felt every time we were close crowded in, trying to push away my resentment and fear, the hatred that I’d convinced myself I had. I no longer knew what to believe, the betrayal of my own body a telling statement. There was something about Cristiano that I couldn’t resist. Maybe everything about him.
It was as if the danger and uncertainty, the man’s merciless actions and bravado meant nothing. Just the way I felt when I was in his arms. The rush of electricity swam through me like a tidal wave, leaving me hot and wet all over. Before I realized it, I’d snaked my arms around his neck, moaning into the kiss.
He thrust his tongue inside, sweeping his against mine, exploring the wet heat that threatened to consume both of us. I couldn’t breathe or think clearly. I no longer knew night from day, love from hate. Everything had meshed together in one entangled web of lies and deceit. How could I want this? How could I stand to be in the same room with him?
As the kiss continued, he squeezed my bottom, continually grinding his hips back and forth in a lurid manner.
When he finally broke the heated intimacy, he took gasping breaths. “God, I want you.”
His statement was as close to being endearing as I knew I’d ever hear. I was breathless, struggling to understand what was happening.
Then reality swooped in as it had before, creating another series of reactions. I pushed against him, struggling to get out of his hold. “No. This isn’t right. This is pure sin. I don’t want to marry you.”
Cristiano reared back, letting me go almost instantly, the look of seduction I’d seen all but gone. “That’s the way it’s going to be, Emily. We will be married in three days.”
When he turned away, walking back to his desk, I refused to hold back anything. “Then if we’re going to be man and wife, don’t you think you need to tell me about your deep dark secret?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Bella. Who the hell is Bella?”
He froze, his entire body tensing, his shoulders heaving for several seconds before he spun around. “You were snooping in my house? You dared to invade my privacy?”
The venom of his tone was shocking, even after everything I’d been through. “Who is she? Your child? Don’t you think I at least deserve to know that you have a child? Where is she? Is she hiding somewhere, or do you have her caged up like you plan on doing to me?”
The sadness forming across his face was something that would haunt me for a long time to come. Then I noticed tears in his eyes. He took several deep breaths as he stared at me. I was prepared for him to rush toward me, providing yet another round of discipline. Instead, he remained silent, walking toward a small bar located in the corner of the room.
I watched intently as he pulled two glasses from a shelf, selecting a bottle of some dark liquor and pouring. Every move he made was methodical, labored. When he returned, his complexion was sallow. He remained unblinking as he handed me a glass, moving slowly toward one of the leather chairs and sitting down.
“Bella was my sister.”
I was crushed by the way he said the words. ‘Was.’ My God. I dared to inch closer, sitting on the edge of the seat. “What happened?”
He’d placed his elbows on the armrests and was sliding his index finger back and forth across his mouth. “Bella was killed.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, wanting nothing more than to reach over, but Cristiano wasn’t ready for comfort and I wasn’t prepared to provide any. However, I knew this was a story that he needed to share. Whatever had occurred he’d kept bottled up inside.
“Bella was the light of our family. Just a little joy. You should have heard her laughter. It didn’t matter what kind of shit I’d been forced to deal with, the moment she laughed, I forgot almost everything.” He half snorted, taking several gulps before continuing.
I remained on edge, uncertain of how to react.
“For some reason, I was her favorite. The squeal she’d let off when I came to see her was just so damn special. We had a bond that truly allowed me to understand the power of family. When she became ill at three years old, we had no idea what was wrong. Leukemia. The doctors thought she wouldn’t make it. But she did. Somehow her little spirit helped her to survive.”
“Cristiano. I…” I couldn’t finish my sentence, the pain for him too raw.
He darted a single glance in my direction, attempting to smile. “When she was released from the hospital, we were all surprised how well she did, flourishing more every day. Within a year, you’d never know she’d been sick. She had her whole life ahead of her. My life moved on and I didn’t get to see her as much, but when I came to the house, I always brought her something special.”
When he stopped talking, I held my breath, several tears sliding down my face. I could tell he was remembering both the joy and the horror.
He took a deep but ragged breath, rubbing his glistening eyes. “Anyway, after I’d been away for almost a month, I went to see her. She wanted to go out for ice cream. Of course, I couldn’t resist a single request. The girl managed to wrap me around her little finger.” He laughed softly.
“She sounds amazing.”
“She really was. Just another angel on this earth. We had our ice cream and were on the way home. Bella had school the next day so Mother made certain I wouldn’t keep her out too late. Now, I wish I hadn’t taken her out at all. I just…”
Growling, he turned his head away from me.
“What happened, Cristiano?”
“She was killed. Because of me.” He jerked out of his chair, walking toward the window and staring out into the darkness.
“What do you mean because of you?”
“When I told you that danger is always surrounding my family, I meant it, Emily. The bullet was meant for me. If she hadn’t been in the car, she would still be alive today. I’m the reason for her death.”
The last words were devoid of emotion. He was shutting down again. I rose from the chair, second guessing my reasons for walking closer, but I could tell how much he was hurting. “You can’t blame yourself.”
“Like hell I can’t. What’s worse it that I had no idea, and still don’t know who was behind the shooting, but I will never forget his face. Never. Bastard. No one came forward claiming the kill and there was no evidence, not that the police tried very hard to find her killer.” He drained his glass, staring down at his drink. “I assure you that my family made several changes after her murder.”
I lifted my arm, hesitating before placing my hand on his, squeezing. “I am so sorry. I wish I knew what to say.”
“There’s nothing you can say. It was my fault. I’ll take that with me to the grave.” He took my hand into his, bringing my fingers to his mouth, pressing them against his lips. As he rolled my knuckles back and forth, there wasn’t a single inch of my body that wasn’t covered in goosebumps, a mixture of anticipation and excitement coursing through me like an uncontrolled blaze.
Easing back, he gave me a smoldering smile, his eyes burning with a deep well of lust.
As well as conviction.
I could tell what he was thinking, his need to possess me bordering on unhinged.
I should remain terrified of him, but the elation from the shared electricity had managed to drag away the tension.
At least for now.
A shiver coursed down my spine, the connection that we’d both felt from the beginning even stronger. But at this moment I was torn between accepting the fact he had another side, a softness that had been crowded out by the tragedy and the fact he was still a ruthless killer. The dichotomy of the two didn’t work well in my mind.
When he released my ha
nd, allowing it to drop, his face hardened even more. Yet he gathered me into his arms, his fingers slowly sliding down the back of my head. “Has anyone ever told you just how beautiful you are?”
“I’m not beautiful. I’m just average.” The way he was holding me wasn’t just possessive. It was as if he was terrified that he’d lose me. I was breathless from his brazen stare, the lust consuming him. I gripped his arms, fearful I would fall if he wasn’t holding me.
“You are one of the most incredible women I’ve ever laid eyes on. And you are all mine.” When he pressed his lips against mine, he didn’t overwhelm me with his prowess as he usually did. He simply held me, very slowly using his lips to open mine.
I suddenly felt safe in his arms, every cell on fire as he raked his other hand down my back, cupping my buttocks and lifting me onto my toes. The man reeked of passion, an undeniable hunger that ignited the butterflies as well as the rapid beating of my heart. I was intoxicated by his scent, adding fuel to the embers until they burst into flames.
The moment of intimacy remained tender, his tongue barely darting inside, sweeping against mine. This was a different man, one who was attempting to shower me with what little he understood about love. I found myself falling down a spiral of darkness, succumbing to his gentle manner, thirsting to taste all of him. A part of me swooned from his hold, the way he’d crushed his body against mine. The feel of his cock was just as explosive as before, but this time, I wanted him to fill me, fucking me.
Making love to me.
I could envision being with him, learning every nuance of his world, accepting his dangerous tendencies while indulging in every dirty act of sin he demanded.
A growl floated up from the depth of his being, mixing with my strangled moans. I slid my arms around his neck, savoring the moment, praying the world would go away. As the kiss became more forceful, needy, I intertwined my fingers in his hair, every part of me tingling. He thrust his tongue all the way inside, consuming mine as he became dominating, pushing me to the limits of my understanding.
Then as quickly as the beautiful moment had started, it was over, Cristiano pushing me away and turning slightly before issuing the words I would never forget.
