Rise of
the Titan
An interracial romance
Pressley James
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Rise of the Titan
Copyright © 2019 Pressley James
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author.
Cover Design: Graphic-Lane
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Acknowledgment
This book is dedicated to every person that reads this book. Thanks for the opportunity and please forgive the hiccups. Still, learning how to master the trade…
And to my fam---
I got you.
“Love knows no color.”
“It’s the purest and most precious thing.”
Titan’s creed
Every story has an ugly beginning.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Probably, because it makes it easier to deal with my own reality…
Truth is…
I’m fucked up. A self-serving asshole like me---well, I’m morally bankrupt.
Simply put, I have no fucks to give. Cost or consequences, be damned. Getting what I want is the only thing that matters. Because of that fact, I’m numbed to the outcomes that are exalted.
Growing up, I had no good leads to follow. Pretty much, my violent childhood was one big vortex of pure suckage--- if that’s even a word. But, through the countless rounds of seemingly never-ending bullshit, I learned all the hard knocks in the game known as survival. Within those pivotal lessons from boyhood to manhood, I became a master player, carefully and skillfully becoming knowledgeable of how to score the advantage.
An advantage over every breathing soul that lit my path…
Like you, for instance, all the beautiful, fine, and sexy as hell babes out there.
Hell, you’re a slave to a proverbial bad boy like me. Why? It’s that wild recklessness and no-holds-barred attitude that draws you to us. In your wet fantastical dreams, you foolishly embody the shameful notion that your love and adoration will reform us. As a result, you’re left dripping wet from an idea that will never set root. The fact is, sadly, not even the tiniest bit of humanity beats within my impenetrable heart.
Truth told, I’m a menace to the female population. I’m a living nightmare. Becoming involved with me would be the biggest mistake of your life. Good or bad---no woman should be shackled with me. I’m tainted goods. Anything and everything that I touch, I destroy it.
Do yourself a favor and heed your mother’s warning.
Stay the hell away from me.
I’m no damned good for myself let alone anyone else.
Enough about me and my fragile fucked up psyche.
Learned a long, long time ago that I’m too far gone---it’s too late for me.
So, let me tell you about what’s going on now.
I’m fucking stuck in the middle.
There’s only one thing on my mind…
Pure, cold, and hard revenge…
It’s going to be someone else’s bitter end.
Not mine…
prologue
The taste of revenge is the sweetest thing.
Well, he almost tasted it.
Tonight, though, his clever tactics only carried him a step closer to doing so. But, consorting with the enemy was like tangoing with the grim reaper. It was akin to an act of suicide, and he’d placed himself at considerable risk.
Like the fact that he was masquerading in New York City rather than being back home in Columbus, Georgia. If things took a turn for the worst, he’d be up shit creek.
On this dark and twisted night, he was his only savior.
Yet, those very risks had been worth it.
For a brief moment, couldn’t he embrace that tiny bit of triumph?
Titan released a satisfied sigh before relaxing in the bed.
He stared across the semi-darkened bedroom.
The huge stately bedroom screamed pure blood money.
Gold-plated doors, chandeliers, thick plush carpeting, highly-sheen walls…
A complete sham that covered all the ugliness that breathed within its walls…
Without a doubt, tonight, he’d been in the company of deadly and ravenous enemies. So, his con game and performance had to be tight with little to no room for error. Again, he couldn’t stifle the feeling of triumph. Like a skillful player, he’d executed every move perfectly.
But, nothing was ever 100% foolproof.
He frowned again.
Still, though, he’d covered his tracks well.
There wasn’t a single thing that’d implicate him.
Although, he was the very culprit…the enemy hell bent on destroying them all…
As his gaze shot upward to the large ceiling mirror, he caught sight of his shadowed form, and the view amplified the mysteriousness of the moment. While he was confident of his sharp abilities, things were far from over.
Not until he was long and far gone…
An arrogant smile snaked along his lips.
Why in the hell did he doubt himself?
Of course, they wouldn’t learn of his treachery.
The bastards were too lit and strung out in their little wonderland of sex, drugs, and booze. When they stumbled away from it, he’d be long gone, and they’d be clueless to his actions.
It was 1:11 am.
At the early morning hours, the party was still underway.
As a matter of fact, it’d kicked into high drive.
Even from the third level of the grandeur mansion, the strings of music and sounds of gaiety from downstairs drifted on up to the third level where he was. No doubt, the massive crowd of corrupt politicians, mobsters, and fixers would be here till daybreak. After all, when he’d been downstairs earlier, he’d witnessed more than a few perfectly lined rows of white powder on tables. There been many bodies hunched over and bent low as they’d snorted the poison into their nostrils. And that wasn’t counting the other countless drugs and paraphernalia. Marijuana, LSD, crystal meth…In fact, there wasn’t any drug that wasn’t highly visible or in use at the boisterous shindig. Not to mention the bottles of liquor, wine, and crazily laden alcohol concoctions that were also involved.
And that meant that they were wandering mindlessly in a drug-induced haze.
Just the distraction that he needed…
With lightning quickness, he sprang from the messy bed and hurried to the bed’s end. Just right there, his discarded clothing lay in a crumpled heap. Quickly, he stepped into the tuxedo pants before fastening them. Then, after snatching the crisp white shirt from the floor, he shrugged it on.
But, he stilled at the sound of the clicking revolver.
“You fucking bastard,” Lucinda accused shakily from across the room. The soft light escaped through the partially opened bathroom door and cast a faint visibility into the darkened space. Within it, her feminine silhouette fell across the floor. “You lied to me, and you’re going to regret it in more ways than one.”
Shit.
So much for stealing the goods and getting the fuck out…
But, the tiny black flash drive biting his ass right now was a stark reminder that he had to. (And the tiny memory stick had enough info to incriminate almost everyone there, mind you.) If not, he’d be taking a million steps backwards. In his game of revenge, it was something that couldn’t be afforded.
Stiffening, he turned and faced his female aggressor.
The arrogant smile
nearly died on his lips.
Damn, she was being real with her shit…
The steely determination in her eyes said as much.
Which meant he had to diffuse the situation…
Purposely, he ran his eyes up and down her robed figure, and as he did, a well-pleased flush stole her porcelain features. Still, the faint glow of sex lingered on her visage, and there was no doubt that she’d be open for a replay. Their little sex tryst had been wild and feral, and it’d only amplified the volatile situation ten-fold. During the last hours, he’d been operating on a pure adrenaline rush.
But, his earlier high had crashed to a definite low.
All courtesy of the cocked gun, of course…
He withheld a bitter curse.
He had to have a secret trump card.
His life actually depended on it.
Playing it right ensured his very livelihood…
Purposely, he widened his smile before raising both hands in the air. He kept his eyes trained on the gun. “Come on, now, sweet Lucy,” he said smoothly and made a small step away from the sex-mussed bed. He tried not to flinch at the sight of the revolver aimed dead at his chest. Instead, he carefully plastered a suave smile on his face. “You don’t want to kill all this pretty.”
Scowling, she perfectly leveled the revolver. “The hell I don’t.”
Watching her, he tensed further.
Shit just got ‘real’ real.
If she fired, no when she fired, the tiny silver bullet would blast a perfect hole inside his tattoo before piercing his dead heart.
Lucinda Ricci…
At twenty-eight, the mafia princess was a lethal adversary.
Deadlier and more criminally insane than her father in a sense---
In fact, he had a mental running list of her victims, some that were deserving of a deadly fate while others weren’t. It was the others that concerned him most---the poor unwitting victims that shouldn’t be dead, but were.
She was ruthless, vindictive, and cruel to her little core.
But, she had a weakness.
A dangerous fix that she salivated for…sex…
Sex for her was like a straight-on-acid trip.
It was a high that she didn’t want to come down from.
His steely gray gaze held hers across the room.
It didn’t flicker.
It didn’t waver.
No weakness shone in them.
Only stark determination…
“Put the gun down.” Dropping both hands, he trailed across the room slowly, but then stopped midway the room. The tuxedo shirt stood agape, revealing his tattoo and well-muscled chest. The silver-plated dagger necklace around his nape suddenly seemed a bit restrictive. But, there was something about this little business about getting killed that tended to make one a tad nervous. Yet, that very fear couldn’t be shone, he mulled, running his eyes over her again. It had to be carefully hidden. “Neither one of us has time for this bullshit.”
“Apparently, we do, especially since you’re shitting it straight out of your ass.” Firming her lips, holding the gun steady, she moved away from the bathroom and advanced across the room. Then, she stopped directly before him. “Question is, who are you really and what are you here for? My sources are legit. Your name’s really not Jackson Stevens and you’re not really an upstate attorney. As a matter of fact, from the sounds of that accent of yours, you’re nothing more than a straight-up country bumpkin. Tell me. Are you an Alabama, Florida, Texas, or Georgia bred boy, hmmmm?”
“So now, you have a problem with me?”
She tapped a finger against her cheek. “How can I put this? You’re hardly my type. Fine, polished, ridiculously rich, and highly-educated city boys are my thing. So, that means that you’ve missed the mark. Don’t worry, though, you’re partially salvageable, I suppose. Your only saving grace is that big dick of yours, and the fact that you work it right. So much so, that you’ve made me one straight-up confused bitch, tonight. Yet, that’s beside the point, isn’t it?” She gave a malicious smile before perfectly placing the barrel of the gun against his tattooed chest. “But, you’re no dummy. Despite your non-pleasurable roots, I sense that you’re world traveled. Tell me who you really are. I know that you have something. Tell me what that something is, or I’ll kill you dead, motherfucker.”
“Well, well, color me surprised.” His smile suddenly felt too tight amidst his mounting sarcasm. “When we first met, I took you as being a sweet little princess. You’ve definitely killed that image. Hell, after dealing with the likes of you, I never want to hear a bedtime story ever again. Fairy tale princesses generally don’t have murder on their minds. Speaking of murder---is it a trademark around this place? You, your father, and the rest of this miserable lot here obviously relish bloodshed. Guess what, I’m going to be your conscience or better yet, I’ll offer you some sense of humanity,” he challenged carefully, holding her gaze, and again, he sensed her inner struggle. Already, her naked hunger seethed at the edges. “As for why I’m here---of course, you know why I am. I’m here because of you.”
Her eyes narrowed further into thin slits.
He raised a brow.
But, her taut features said that she still wasn’t buying it.
“What are you, a secret agent? Or worse, a fucking snitch?” Slowly, she trailed the gun down past his abdomen until it hovered above his crotch. “I’m afraid that my retaliation is gruesome when it comes to squealing rats. Are you a rat, country boy?”
Giving a brazen laugh, he carefully closed his hand around the barrel. “Now, I’m afraid that you’ve ventured into dangerous territory, sweet Lucy. No one, and I mean no one, threatens to murder my big, precious, and loving dick. Pretty much, you’re asking to die when you do so.” He stepped closer until the gun was wedged between them. Again, he easily sensed the wildness within her, and her eyes flickered with excitement. “Call it crazy, but something tells me that you’re a betting woman. Well, good news is, I’m a gambler. Right now, I’m willing to wager that you want to be fucked. Rather than wanting this rigid piece of metal inside of you, you want me to pierce that shit.” At her desperate and hungry look, a knowing smile tilted his lips higher. Damn, he’d just found his trump card. Yet, he wasn’t so sure that he should throw it onto the table. After all, she was a sex addict. But, he didn’t want to die. On to plan b---straight negotiation… With a careful slowness, he extracted the gun from her hand, and then he stepped back slightly. “While I’m a bastard at heart, I like to think that I have some tiny values embedded inside of me. For one, I don’t take advantage of women. Right now, as tempting as it is, taking you right now and feeding your madness isn’t the best thing.”
“What if I want you to take advantage of me?” Lucinda challenged and already, she was loosening the robe. She only parted it slightly, just revealing a thin view of her bare body. Slowly, she ran a finger down her cleavage and on down further. When the small digit met the apex of her thighs, her blue eyes turned wilder than her messy black hair. Emitting a soft gasp, she parted her thighs slightly before dipping her finger inside her wet heat. As she exhibited a slow deep, rhythmic motion, she moaned deep, all the while watching him with a fevered look. “You’re a liar and con artist to the core. But, those little facts intrigue me. So much so, that I’m willing to let you get out of here,” she gasped, opening her mouth wide as her pleasure mounted. A breathless laugh tinged with madness left her lips. But, still, she forced the words out. “My pussy is aching, damn you. Give it to me again.”
“Give it to you?” he said smoothly before arching a brow. “At the moment, I hardly think that my services are needed. Right now, it’s pretty much a given that you’re taking care of it.”
Falling silent, he watched and waited.
For some reason or another, he wasn’t turned on by her sexual machinations. As the orgasm ripped through her, he remained unperturbed.
A splitting second later, she’d found her obvious paradise.
>
Satisfied, replete, she stretched before giving a healthy yawn. Then, slipping the finger into her mouth, she supped away her own wetness. Giving a disturbed laugh, she mewed softly like a pleased feline. Then, parting the robe widely, she gave him full view of her naked form, and a rosy tint covered her flesh all over. “Unfortunately, my cum probably doesn’t taste as delectable as yours. Why don’t you shuck those pants off and let me get a taste?”
“Are you done?” Now, he didn’t disguise his burning impatience or rising apprehension. “What’s your game, sweet Lucy? While I am good at sex and while you actually do want to be sexed up,” he laughed softly, though no amusement tinged it, and his features expressed all of his seriousness. “Call it curiosity or outright intuition. But, my instincts are screaming like a damned banshee in my ear. They’re telling me that there’s something else going on. This moment is not about some sex-starved crazed addict out to get laid.”
“You really suck, do you know that? I’m all up in my feels, and the only thing that you can manage is killing all my sexual vibes.” Scowling, she snapped the robe closed before quickly tightening the sash. Then, purposely, she stepped back before passing a dismissive glance at the gun. “Get rid of that thing. I’m suddenly bored with it.”
“Why do I find that hard to believe?” Still, while the gun was lowered by his side, he kept a careful grip on it. Even in these tightly closed quarters, there was still opportunity for more trouble to arise. “Why don’t we quit playing games and get to what you really want from me?”
“Maybe I’ve underestimated you after all. It’s apparent that you do possess some common sense,” she smiled coldly before sashaying away from him. Once, she reached the window, she parted the curtain slightly before staring down at the crowd below. Her tight hold on the delicate fabric showed her barely restrained anger. “Look at those assholes.” The bitterness dripped from her tone like poisonous honey. “Too fucked up to even know that they’re dead rather than alive.” Turning around slowly, she faced him again. “Unlike them, I’m living and breathing. All this shit here…the Ricci empire…I want it all. But, my father and husband both are unnecessary nuisances---they’re in the way. At this point, they’re casualties that need to be disposed of. That’s where you come in.”
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