by J. L. Beck
Copyright © 2021 by Bleeding Heart Press
Cover design by Bleeding Heart Cover
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
1. Valentina
2. Adrian
3. Valentina
4. Adrian
5. Valentina
About the Authors
Black Heart Romance
1
Valentina
I know I should be more excited to attend my first party. Between dressing up and the fact that my fiancé, Sal, agreed to let my cousin and best friend, Rose, come along too, it’s set to be a fantastic night. Rose isn’t really interested in the party, but I fear leaving her alone in the house with my father or my fiancé, so I bring her as my plus-one.
They can be ruthless and sinister, plus I’m stronger than her. It’s my duty to protect the only family I have left in this house.
I peer at my reflection in the mirror. The dress Rose chose for me hugs my curves, which only began filling out a few years ago. Not that there’s much yet. I still feel like my small petite shape resembles an ironing board compared to Rose’s curves and statuesque figure.
The champagne silk gown barely brushes the floor, Rose having hemmed it by hand all morning for me. It makes my pale skin shine in the mirror and sets off her own black cap sleeve number. We both look great, and I hug her to my side as she presses the last pin taming the unruly mass of brown known as my hair.
“Let’s try to have some fun, okay?” I whisper.
She nods, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Let’s set a goal to make one sexy man trip over his feet tonight.”
“Sal doesn’t count.” I snicker.
“Ugh, Sal isn’t sexy. I know you’re being conscripted to spend the rest of your life with him, but hopefully once you get married, he’ll find a mistress to deal with his bullshit and leave you alone.”
I snort. “A new goal then. Find a mistress for my future husband at this party. Someone we think he could go for after we get married.”
It was a nice lie. But what are dreams? Nice lies to get you through the day, right?
We give each other one long conspiring look in the mirror and head downstairs for inspection by my father and Sal.
We descend to the foyer. Rose remains at my back, one step behind—not because she’s inferior but because she’s my support. My rock. The only thing keeping me from going apeshit most days.
My father steps out of his study, Sal follows, and they circle us like wolves. Once they finish scrutinizing us, my father sniffs, shakes his head, and points at the stairs. “Go back up to your room and change. You look like a cheap whore. I can see every inch of your body. You’re supposed to be a respectful woman and set an example.”
An example of what? What happens to women in this world when they can’t stand on their own two feet? I know better than to question him, though I can’t help but look down at the beautiful shimmering silk and frown at its loss. Instead of telling him off, I do the smart thing and say, “Yes, sir.” Then I grab Rose’s arm and haul her back up the stairs with me.
“Switch with your cousin,” my father’s hard voice calls after us. “At least she looks like a proper young lady.”
I wince but continue walking, dragging Rose with me back to my bedroom.
“I hate those motherfuckers,” she growls, throwing herself on the bed. I let out a half-hearted protest about her hair, but she turns her face to glare at me. “Do I look like I give a shit about my hair?”
I frown, looking down at the dress. “Let’s just change, and then we can go. I’m sorry you worked so hard on my dress, and now I can’t even wear it.”
Rose sits up, twisting gracefully, and waves me away. “It doesn’t matter. You’re right. Let’s change, and then we can get to drinking.”
We swap dresses, and I have to help ease the zipper of mine up the side of her waist. It barely fits, and the length is a foot too short. I feel bad, but I’m not sure what else to do. I won’t return to my father without this dress on. “Do you want to put on something else?”
She shakes her head. “We are already pushing it for time, and I’d expect if I went down in something else, then they’d order me right back up here out of spite. Or worse, make you go alone.”
I hug her one more time and adjust her hair a little where a few stray pieces have fallen down her slim neck.
She meets my eyes, stilling my face in her hands. “If there is any way to get you out of this marriage, I’m going to find it. You deserve so much better than that asshole.”
I nod, ducking my chin so she doesn’t see the sheen of tears building in my eyes. “I know, but it’s what Father wants, and you know I have to keep him happy.”
“Not if we leave. How about at the party tonight, you and I just slip out the side door into the darkness? They’ll never see us again. I have a little money saved, and you can sell some of your jewelry. We can get jobs and live a normal existence.”
As wonderful as her dream sounds for us, I know it’s useless to imagine. “You know if we did that, he would never stop looking for me. Both Sal and my father would hunt me down and drag me home. And then once they found me, they would kill me.”
Rose sucks a ragged breath into her lungs and lifts my chin with her finger. “Don’t say that.”
“You don’t think my father has been looking for a way to punish me all my life? Everything he does is to punish me for my mother’s death. Everything. Sal is just another in a long list of things that suck about my life. I’m used to it by now.” I pause, refusing to let myself get worked up over something that will never change. “We should go.”
Rose looks like she wants to say more but doesn’t. “I’ll find a way, okay? Don’t give up.”
She wants to say more every time Sal says something hurtful or, worse, when he hits me to get his way. My father put my virginity up as a shield, but it doesn’t protect me from Sal’s fists.
I paste on the fake smile my father and Sal will expect to see me wearing and head toward the door. “Let’s go before one of them comes up here after us.”
Again, she trails me, and when we hit the foyer, it’s only Sal in his tuxedo waiting for us. His black curls are slicked back, and he’s altogether too oily and smooth. He always has been. I hated him the moment I laid eyes on him. He’s a snake in the grass, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.
He holds out his elbow for me to take, and I wrap my arm around it. If I didn’t, he’d drag me into him and make me pay for embarrassing him in front of Rose. It’s a lesson I’ve learned many times from the palm of his hand.
The limo is waiting outside the house, and Sal opens the door for us. Rose climbs in first, and then he steps in front of me, slipping in so that he’s stuck sitting between us. I wish I were the kind of person who had the balls to drag him out by his ear. Instead, all I manage is envisioning the squeak he’d make if I did it.
I buckle my seat belt, and the limo pulls away. Sal’s cologne wafts off him in nauseating waves, but I don’t dare roll down the window for air. He sees everything, and no matter what I do, it’s all an insult to him. Every breath I take is an insult to him.
“I’m glad your father suggested you change. You look much more proper now. Although I do like the silk on you. Maybe you can put it back on for me later,” he whispers.
I keep the disgust hidden from my tone. “If Father says it’s alright.”
I’m worthless in my father’s mind, so he won’t ha
ve me called a whore as well. In front of his friends, I’m the perfect doting daughter. There’s no way for him to explain away rumors of my sleeping around to them, so he’s forbidden Sal from touching me that way. I’ll take it because the thought of him touching me intimately makes me want to scream.
He stiffens and leans away, taking the cloying scent with him. My father’s one rule was no touching sexually before the wedding. And no matter how many times Sal has tried to coax me into breaking the edict, I don’t. Not when it is the only life raft my father has ever provided.
Since I rebuffed him, Sal runs his hand up my thigh, squeezing so hard over the material I’ll have a bruise. Unable to stop myself, I grab his hand and look him in the eyes. “He probably wouldn’t like where that hand is either.”
“Don’t be such a little virgin,” he hisses.
My virginity is the only thing keeping me safe from him, so I’ll use it for a shield as long as I can. I know nothing about sex, and if the porn or the pictures Sal forces me to look at when my father is away are similar, I don’t want anything to do with it. Even more so if he’s with me.
Rose lets out a soft squeak across the car, and I glance over. Sal has his arm slung around her shoulders, and his lips are on her neck. Her eyes are blown wide and scared as she meets mine across the car. Despite her terror, though, her chin is tilted up, and she’s trying to tell me she can take this. Take this for me. But God, I don’t want her to, not when she shouldn’t have to.
I grip his hand and return it to my upper thigh, drawing his attention back to me. When he turns to face me again, something tight breaks open in my chest, and I can breathe. “First, you don’t want me, and now you think I’m ignoring you, Valentina. Make up your mind, babe.”
I hate the way he says my name. The way he calls me babe as though it’s affectionate. Every time I hear it, I want to throw up. But I can’t, not with Rose in his clutches. “Sorry, we spent all this time getting ready. Don’t you think I look nice?”
He lets his arm fall away from Rose and faces me fully. I almost sigh with relief. “You know you’re beautiful. It’s the only thing you’ve got going for you. That and your sweet honeypot I’m going to claim when we get married.”
I barely stifle the gag which surges from my empty belly. Rose and I skipped dinner with my father and Sal, complaining we had too much to do to be ready for the party. Well, if I do vomit on him, then there won’t be much of a mess.
“Thank you for the compliment,” I manage after a moment. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice my hesitation in answering.
“Our kids are going to be so hot,” he says.
Another gag wells up inside me, and I have to turn my eyes away before he sees the disgust there. I know what kind of businesses he runs for his family. And the little side projects in human trafficking that keep him flush with cash.
Every Friday when my father goes to his meetings, Sal shows me videos. Clips of his men touchi—bile rises in my throat as I cut off the thought. I have to press the back of my hand to my mouth to ensure nothing comes up. It was bad enough when I thought he only dealt in grown women.
My hands are shaking, and I wrap them around my waist. His eyes narrow, but as he opens his mouth, the car jerks to a halt outside a high-rise building.
For a second, he stares out the window and then nods. “We’re here. Get the fuck out so we can make our entrance together.”
Gladly. I shove the door open and take a deep breath of the clean night air. Until he curls a proprietary arm around my waist and leads me toward the building. Rose trails us. We lock eyes for a second, her asking if I’m okay while I do the same with her. We both nod and focus on the mission: have a tiny bit of fun without riling Sal too much.
The foyer of the building is lovely. Decorated in creams and maroon with a sparkling crystal chandelier hanging in front of a bank of elevators.
Inside the elevator, a man in a uniform nods and presses the button I assume is for the party. Sal’s arm locks around me tighter the higher we climb.
“Don’t embarrass me tonight,” he says, his eyes on the number panel as we ascend. “Either of you. Or I’ll make you regret it.”
Rose and I once again lock eyes behind his back in a moment of solidarity. We can do this.
The elevator opens to a beautiful glittering crowd milling about a grand foyer. The white marble floor has matching marble columns that line the edge of the circular space. We squeeze past couples until we spot the open doorway to a large ballroom. Inside, tables skirt a small dance floor as servers carrying tinkling trays of champagne flutes weave through the throng.
Sal releases me and smooths his hair back. “Find a table and wait for me. If I see you talking to another man, I’ll kill him.”
2
Adrian
The only thing I hate more than parties are parties where everyone is considering the best way to kill me.
I can almost see the yearn to maim and dismember in their eyes as they pass me with little dips of their chin. Every single one of us is a liar. And the party to open the season makes us all a hundred times worse.
This year, it’s my turn to host the opening gala. As if sparkle and glam could negate the blood that would hit the streets in short order. Likely before the first guests leave for the evening.
The heavy weight of a palm clamping my shoulder makes me tense up until Kai, my second, comes around into my field of vision. “Ready for this, old man?”
I wince. “Cut out the old man shit. I’m only a few years older than you.”
He grins, all gleaming white teeth. “But about ten years older than all the little girls these mommies and daddies are throwing at you. I hear whispers they want to find you a queen.”
And not a single one of them will know I’m looking for one myself. Otherwise, I’m vulnerable to both preying mothers and scheming fathers on all sides. Until I secure a bride, my father’s empire won’t officially be mine in the eyes of these people.
“Keep your eyes and ears open, Kai. I have a bad feeling about tonight.”
His hand tightens on my shoulder. “You have a bad feeling about every party we go to, boss.”
He isn’t wrong.
A pretty little blonde makes eyes at Kai from across the room. Then when her gaze slides to mine, she loses her nerve. “Someone wants you,” I point out to him.
“Who doesn’t?” he parries.
I shrug him off my shoulder. “Don’t get distracted. You and the men need to stay alert.”
He gives me a wink and saunters toward the blonde. Despite his nonchalance, I know he won’t let his guard down. His ease has always been an act he uses to play a role, so they don’t realize what he really is until it’s too late.
My other five closest soldiers, six counting Kai, have spread out throughout the room to listen, watch, and guard my back. But it will take a lot more than their presence to put me at ease here. At least this year, I decided to host it on neutral ground. The Holland Hotel, owned and operated by an anonymous, unaligned individual, is the site for all inter-territory meetings. So it makes sense they would host the gala too. And this year, I won’t find someone trying to sneak their way past security or hack my computer networks.
As I watch each person walk past me, I can’t help but see the lies spewing from their mouths. Each syllable spoken in sweet smiles, all greasy with every untruth, turns my stomach. If I’m going to kill someone, I have the decency to at least tell them outright.
The neck of my perfectly tailored tux feels too tight, like a noose around my neck.
“Scowl any harder, and people will start running for their weapons,” a sweet voice says as she approaches. My fifth wears red satin tonight, cut so low that I would be about to see her belly button with another inch. Another weapon my soldiers employ effortlessly: their beauty.
“Andrea.” I scan the crowd. “Where’s your twin?”
She rolls her neck, her black hair sliding over the bare curve of her shoulder. �
��Oh, he’s around here somewhere. Probably getting himself into trouble.”
“Shouldn’t you be joining him?” I say, keeping my gaze on the slow amble of the people around me. I half wish someone would start something so I could get the hell out of here.
“I will soon enough. See anyone I should keep my eye on?” Her focus returns to the crowd as well now.
I shake my head. “Not yet. I’ll let you know if I see something. Go play and be nice.”
She saunters back into the fray, and I snag a passing glass of champagne. I don’t usually drink because I feel out of control when I have too much. And no one can see me like that. But Andrea is right. If I continue scowling from the fringes of the ballroom, it won’t help me find the woman I need to turn into my wife.
But I’m not the only one who’s counting the seconds until it’s socially acceptable to leave. A young woman in black with a mass of barely restrained curls stands near a table with someone else I don’t recognize. Which is impossible since I know every member of our little twisted society.
Then I catch sight of Sal squeezing through the crowd, not even bothering to be sly at the way he ogles the women he passes.
When he reaches the table, the girl in black stiffens and shifts away from him but then allows the fucking dickhole to drag her by the arm to his side again. And he isn’t gentle about it either. I’m three seconds from grabbing his threadbare tux and allowing Andrea to escort him out. She loves nothing more than showing a man like him what she thinks of his kind.
So he succeeded in buying himself a family name. And by the size of the rock on Rachel—Royal—no, I can’t remember her name, her daddy had to buy it for her fiancé to propose. Sal and her father, Victor, have been in business together a long time. When word started to spread about his engagement to Novak’s daughter, I thought they were sampling their own product. Now, seeing the way he handles her as though he owns her, I believe it.
