by Piper Stone
“The reason I brought you here is for you to fully understand the depth of my world. I think it’s important that you comprehend that.”
“Another threat,” she said softly.
“I’m not threatening you, Acadia.”
“Then why does it matter? I’d prefer to see the man I witnessed last night. He had a heart and a soul. He was ready to explore something other than what he was used to or what he felt entitled to in his life.”
“In garnering a true vision of my life, perhaps you’ll finally be able to comprehend what happens when rules aren’t followed.”
Her gaze was fraught with uncertainty as well as continuing questions. I’d never been around anyone who wanted to dissect me so badly. “You’re afraid of losing control.”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
She leaned in, a smirk on her face. “No, I was wrong. You’re not afraid. You’re angry with yourself for falling into Angel’s trap. Whoever played his strings is playing yours. You can’t handle the thought of losing control of any situation, which is why you decided to own me.”
I almost laughed from hearing her words as I cut the engine. “I own you because I desire to. Period.” I exited the vehicle, nodding to Cobra as he moved close to the building. Then I scanned the area, searching for any signs of interference.
While I certainly didn’t need any protection once inside the club, I was wary that the mystery player would strike at any time. Too many things about the situation were odd, my instinct telling me that I’d been lured into what happened in Galveston. It didn’t surprise me that she continued to try to pick through all the various reasons why she’d been taken. However, her sudden revelation nagged at me.
As I opened her door, I could hear another soft mew erupting from her mouth. I took her hand, pulling her into my arms.
Gasping, she was surprised by my action, pushing her hands against my chest and pitching her body away.
“You’re still afraid of me,” I murmured as I lowered my head.
“As you’ve told me more than once I should be, so I am, although I don’t think you enjoy being a vile criminal.”
“A vile criminal. Something you should remember is that I’m also just a man.” Every little word of defiance turned me on, tonight no exception. My cock ached to the point I had difficulty breathing. I pressed my lips against hers, drinking in her perfume as I slid my hand down her locks of silky hair. Having her in my arms was entirely too amazing.
She clung to me, wrapping her fingers around my jacket and leaning in. “You’re not ‘just’ anything, but you are indeed a man.”
I captured her mouth, pulling her tightly against me, grinding my cock back and forth. She wiggled in my arms, creating a round of friction. I thrust my tongue inside, enjoying the sensations, the sweet taste of cinnamon infusing my senses. I couldn’t care less if anyone was watching my actions, my desire far too significant.
When she lifted her leg, placing her knee against my hip, I pushed away, placing my hand around her throat. “Are you trying to tempt me, little rebel?”
“How am I doing? Have I succeeded?”
“You always tempt me.”
“Then allow me to see your world, the darkness you seem prescribed to as if it was medicine you can’t live without. I can take it.”
She had no idea what she was asking for. None.
However, perhaps that was the best method to stop her from trying to peel away the layers. I wasn’t a man who wanted to be discovered.
“As I told you, Acadia. Be careful what you ask for. You have no idea what kind of man I truly am.”
When she rubbed her thumb across my cheek, a growl slipped past my lips. “Then show me.”
“When you enter my world of darkness, there is no return. From then on, you will belong to me,” I breathed as I brushed my lips across hers once again. The overwhelming need to consume her was exactly what Cristiano was talking about. Something had snapped inside of me, the desire to consume her stronger than any revelation I’d experienced in the past. She was mine.
There was no turning back the clock.
There was no chance at stripping her out of my life.
“Maybe that’s what I want.”
There was no way the rebellious woman could understand how enticing her words could be or what I was prepared to show her.
She also had no idea of the sadistic needs sweeping through my system, clawing to be set free.
But she would learn.
My little toy would soon understand that sparring with the devil had consequences.
Chapter 10
Acadia
“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”
Mary Oliver
Darkness.
Vincenzo spoke of it as if the concept was a living, breathing being, one capable of influencing a human life. Maybe that was the case in his world. He was a man riddled with inconsistencies. While I’d captured a moment of dazzling light from deep within him, the darkness always prevailed. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was struggling with the ebb and flow of love and hate, good versus evil.
And he was losing the battle.
Then again, I didn’t really know him at all.
What I had learned had allowed me to dream about him all night long, the haunting visions remaining imbedded in the forefront of my mind. I’d been so confused after he’d sent me away, the man shutting down as if the emotions had been too much to bear. I’d allowed him to crawl into my mind, creating a few fleeting thoughts of romance.
Then he’d slammed the door shut.
Maybe I was nothing but a fool in trying to delve inside his mind. His constant reminders that I meant nothing to him should be enough incentive not to bother.
Then he continued to grant me a few fleeting moments where I hungered to remain near him, to find out if our connection was more than just chemistry on overload. Damn, the asshole was infuriating as hell.
When he’d walked inside the bedroom, standing in the doorway for at least three full minutes, I’d wanted nothing more than for him to crawl into bed, pulling me into his arms. My God. I was nuts. If I had to guess, I’d say the man never slept and if he did, he certainly kept his weapon in close proximity just in case his version of the boogeyman came a-calling.
I’d pretended like I was asleep, but I’d seen the expression on his face. I’d never seen a man so troubled in my life. Then he’d disappeared. I’d been left alone in the big ole house with no understanding of when or if he would return with just his soldiers to watch over me.
How could any woman live that way? I shuddered at the thought.
Me being me, I’d taken the time to search through his personal things, even standing in his closet and admiring his three dozen or so suits. All dark. All expensive. When I’d found an old tee shirt, the faded letters from Harvard embossed on the surface, I’d become even more intrigued. Then, like an idiot, I’d held the thick cotton against my face for a full minute, breathing in his intoxicating scent.
The lack of pictures was disturbing, except for one that I had a feeling was revered, the beautiful portrait-style photograph taken in a grand backyard, tropical flowers and shrubs the background, the most gorgeous green grass the forefront. It was easy to tell the picture was of his entire family, every brother sexy and debonair, the father just an older version, the man’s grin exactly like Vincenzo’s.
There was something elegant about his mother, reminding me of classic photographs of the most beautiful actresses from the seventies. The other two in the picture were obviously his much younger sisters, the youngest absolutely adorable with a gap in her front teeth, dimples that made her look like an adorable doll. I could tell the photograph had been taken years before, but it held a special place in his bedroom.
That was the only photograph he displayed, other than a picture of a boat I suspected belonged to him and the single one in the liv
ing room, which was devoid of the younger girl.
He’d almost caught me snooping, which would have led to another round of punishment. I could still feel the last one every time I moved in my seat.
Vincenzo had returned to the house with several packages, the beautiful bags intriguing but terrifying at the same time. He’d offered no comments other than I was required to wear the items he’d purchased, or maybe one of his minions had bought, that night. Then he’d retreated to his office, making several phone calls. I’d been left alone for hours.
Why the hell I should care about him on any level was beyond me.
But I did.
I hadn’t been able to get the beautiful intimate moment from the night before out of my mind. At least his cold demeanor had squelched any thought of the man caring about me. He’d been playing me like a fiddle, and I’d fallen for it.
Never again.
Whatever tonight was about, I had a feeling it was a test of my resolve, or some attempt at further terrifying me. Two could play at that game.
Yes, the dress was gorgeous, the kind of beautiful frock that only princesses were allowed to wear, but that didn’t mean anything. He could purchase whatever the hell he wanted. I was his coifed Barbie doll for the night, my expensive outfit complete with a violet-colored lace bra and matching panties, the designer store one I’d never heard of. Even the heels he’d purchased likely cost more than the entire luggage of clothing I’d brought. Given his description of the club, I was the perfect arm candy to be paraded around in front of people he lorded his authority over.
Fine.
Dandy.
I would smile and take whatever he had to toss out, but I’d also pay attention to the members of the club and anything I overheard. Maybe I’d find some answers. Or maybe I was kidding myself. My stepbrother and the members of the club had been drug runners for the King family. Then they’d betrayed Vincenzo. I’d gone over every scrap of information that I’d gleaned from Pedro. He’d told me nothing of any value. I was certain of it.
As Vincenzo took my hand into his, the same electric vibrations hummed through every cell and vein. He was such a powerhouse of current that my pulse increased from being by his side. While I should continue to fear him, I honestly didn’t any longer. Something had changed between us, the tension the same but the emotions higher.
What I did fear was the club itself. I could only guess what went on behind the massive closed door.
As I was led inside, I wasn’t surprised by the greetings Vincenzo received. The reverence that every single person within close proximity gave was substantial. Every single person lowered their head as if the man was a God.
There was no hostess to lead us to a table. He simply walked through the crowd, acknowledging only a few before heading toward a secluded area in the back of the club. He kept his grip firmly planted around my arm, his fingers digging in. His hold wasn’t him worrying I’d get out of his grasp. He wanted to ensure that everyone in the joint knew I belonged to him.
Tingles prickled every inch of my body from the way he acted as well as the location itself. I could easily tell the club was massive in size, the main room exploding with sight and sound, music coming from every direction. While there were no neon fixtures as I would have expected, a shimmer of lights floated across the ceiling, running down the perimeter walls, others placed in strategic locations in decorative pillars separating various areas within the main floor.
There were dozens of tables enshrouded in shadows, a single candle adding to the ambiance. Every table seemed secluded with enough distance from another for private conversation.
Then there was the incredible bar, the massive structure highlighted more than anything else. The table he led me to was elevated, allowing him to see a portion of his kingdom. While I didn’t know a soul in New Orleans, I didn’t need to be able to identify those with money and clout. They were dressed impeccably, wearing designer suits and expensive ties. The few women accompanying them were beautiful, every strand of hair in place, wearing dresses that must have cost a fortune.
I felt as if I was going back in time, the club one from the distant past.
“Sit and enjoy,” Vincenzo stated as he pulled out one of the chairs.
I did as I was told, easing onto the soft material, certainly not surprised I felt so out of place.
A waitress appeared out of nowhere, giving the man the same kind of respect as when we’d entered.
“What can I bring you, Mr. King?”
He shifted his attention in my direction, drumming his fingers on the table after a few seconds. The man had zero patience. “What would you like? Would you prefer I choose something for you?”
“Merlot is fine.” I honestly wasn’t certain whether I should answer or simply allow him to order. He continued to shift the basics depending on his mood.
“Misty, I think you know what wine I’d prefer. Let’s start with two glasses,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Yes, sir, Mr. King.” Misty scampered away like a dutiful employee and for some reason, I felt cold inside.
Uncomfortable as hell, I realized my legs were quivering and I was unable to sit back in my seat. I’d been in bars and clubs since I was seventeen, the lie about my age never causing me a single issue. I’d seen amazing bands and shitty ones, had been provided amazing cocktails and rotgut booze, but I’d never experienced the kind of location that made your skin crawl. I couldn’t shake the feeling, the prickling sensations creeping down my arms and legs.
“It’s beautiful,” I managed, struggling to swallow.
A smile curled on Vincenzo’s upper lip. He leaned over, once again capturing my gaze. “You’re lying. Not only are you not impressed, you’re antsy as hell. Why?”
I shuddered audibly, running my fingers through my hair. “It’s almost as if I can smell blood in the air.”
“Interesting observation.”
“Which means it happened.”
He lifted his head, scanning the room. Whether or not he was remembering I wasn’t certain. “There was a recent incident a few months ago, an attempt on my brother’s life.”
“And people lost their lives.”
“Some. That is an unfortunate circumstance of what I do. As I told you, Acadia, my line of work isn’t pretty. I assure you that the situation was handled in the best possible method.”
“Meaning you only killed a few people.” I sensed his increasing anger, but the smile crossing his face was disarming.
“My family was under attack. We simply defended ourselves.”
“And the enemy?”
He huffed, waiting as Misty placed two gorgeous wine goblets in front of us before continuing. “Perhaps you can’t understand how important family can be until you’ve lost someone you cared about to the same kind of threat that we faced that night. It doesn’t matter if you’re disinclined to violence on every level, even you would find the strength and necessity to do whatever it took to protect them. That’s what was necessary for my brothers and me to do.”
“Who did you lose, Vincenzo? Can you at least trust me enough to share that with me?”
“Let’s just say someone very dear to my entire family.”
“Someone from the photograph in your bedroom?” The question slipped past my mouth before I’d realized it. I didn’t need him to tell me how furious he was. I could see it in his eyes at first, both suddenly turning black. Then his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
Vincenzo looked away, his chest rising and falling. While he scanned the room, narrowing his eyes, I could tell by the way he fisted his glass that he was attempting to control his anger. When he finally turned his head in my direction, he remained unblinking for at least a minute.
The most uncomfortable minute of my life.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” I said, although the sound was so muted, there was no way he could have heard me.
Or if my excuse mattered.
&nbs
p; A part of me wasn’t certain why I’d bothered to apologize in the first place. He’d shoved me in his house as a prisoner. What the hell was I supposed to do?
He took a sip of his wine then pulled his chair closer, taking my hand into his. “Yes, you did mean to pry because that’s your nature. You don’t like anyone telling you no, which is why your stage name suits you perfectly.”
His hold was strong but as he intertwined our fingers together, the shiver running down my back was all about the heat exploding between us. I knew better than to interrupt him.
“Take a look around you, Acadia. What do you see?”
I did as he asked, realizing that a solid third of the people were glancing every so often in our direction. “The customers are terrified that you’re here.”
“That’s right. As they would be if Cristiano, Michael, Dante, or Lucian were sitting in my seat. If my father arrived, then my guess is that after they paid their respects, they’d leave for important business. Do you see the man over there in the light gray suit?” He nodded over my shoulder.
I took a quick glance, barely able to concentrate. “Yes.”
“That’s Judge Wainwright, a man so highly respected as well as feared for his harsh rulings that he’s had to hire bodyguards. The gentleman with the lovely lady in red? He was just elected to Congress last year. I could go on and on, but I think you get the point.”
“They all owe you something.”
“Well, in a manner of speaking. Whether a favor, money, or their loyalty, they wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust that they’d understand and maintain their respect for my entire family. My father never gave second chances to anyone, including his children. He didn’t believe in them. While I’d learned more… tolerance as I’ve gotten older, there are some acts so egregious that no redemption would ever be accepted. Unfortunately, Angel fell into that category. My guess is that my father would condemn me for not handling your stepbrother as well. It’s all about making a statement to ensure that rules are followed.”
