“Sit,” Anatoli was saying, gesturing to the two empty seats on a table far away from him. Anatoli knew Carver didn’t like to be disturbed.
He buttoned up his suit and rose to his feet.
“Boss?” Benny asked, and Carver realized that was the third time Benny called out to him.
“We’ll continue this meeting another time. I have another matter to attend to.”
Carver ignored the silent question in Benny’s eyes. He nodded to the two other men standing guard near his table and made his way to Anatoli. Ten years he’d waited patiently in the shadows, convincing himself that the only woman he wanted, yearned to own, was beyond his reach. Starting today, his luck was about to change.
Chapter Two
“I’m not a man who likes to repeat himself. Sit.” Anatoli gestured to the two innocent-looking chairs at the table closest to him.
Larry sat, tugging her arm along with him. She shifted on the uncomfortable chair, the hairs on her back rising as Anatoli inched closer and pressed a heavy hand to her left shoulder. Narrowing her eyes, Yasmin flung it away. To her shock, he laughed, and so did the two suits accompanying them.
“Feisty, isn’t she? Tell you what, Larry. Give her to me and I’ll cut your debt in half,” Anatoli drawled. He didn’t touch her again, but instead shoved his inked hands into the pockets of his trousers.
Shock reverberated through her entire body. Paralysis kept Yasmin in place. She couldn’t believe how easily Anatoli uttered those words, talking about her as if she were some object her father could part with. Yasmin whipped her head back to her father. Larry sweated more profusely, and he bit his lower lip.
A second passed, then another. A decent father wouldn’t have hesitated, would have told Anatoli his own daughter wasn’t for sale. Her heart hammered against her chest. It hurt to breathe, as if Larry had shoved icicles in her chest.
“You don’t understand. She’s my only family,” Larry muttered.
Hope flared in her. The good bits of her childhood leaped to the surface of her mind, Larry taking her to the local park, buying her an ice cream cone while they waited for her mom to get off from work. For a moment, guilt replaced her initial shock and anger. Maybe after all this time, she’d judged her father too quickly. They could get through this hurdle together. Yasmin could find two jobs—
“I get that,” Anatoli interrupted.
“Yasmin’s the most important thing to me, so you better cut more than half of my debt,” her father finished.
Bleak resignation tore a hole in her heart and made a home there. Of course. Why did she get her hopes up? Why did she even bother coming along? Did Larry want her with him knowing Anatoli would make that offer? The thought chilled her bones, but she was no longer surprised by what Larry was capable of. All the men she’d known in her life, including her father and ex, only wanted to use her as a free meal ticket. She should have known better.
Anatoli and Larry continued arguing over her like a piece of fish at the marketplace while the two suits with Anatoli hungrily eyed her like wolves from the sidelines. She felt incredibly vulnerable, exposed. She’d taken some self-defense lessons when she moved back to her old neighborhood to stay with her dad, but she knew she’d stand no chance against these hard-eyed men who were probably used to getting what they wanted. The designer suits they wore couldn’t disguise the fact they were monsters underneath.
Yasmin clenched her fists. Tears flickered at the corner of her eyes, but the last time she’d cried, she swore she’d never let anyone see her in this weak state again. A growl, more animal than human, interrupted Anatoli and her father’s bargaining voices. Anatoli stopped talking, and even the two other mobsters grew still, their gazes uncertain.
Larry must have gotten the cue, because he shut his mouth. Soft footsteps made her look up, and, stunned, Yasmin only stared.
The largest titan of a man she’d ever seen strode towards their table, his movements reminding her of a predator. Instinct told her he was probably the biggest threat in the room. He wore a charcoal gray suit, one that fitted the hard lines and ridges of a body that could easily break a normal man in half.
He had black hair, cut almost military short, and blazing dark blue eyes that reminded her of an angry storm. He clenched his square jaw, and under the lights, Yasmin could make out the black ink that wrapped across his neck, along with old scars she had the strange urge to run her fingers across.
Yasmin sat up straighter. The dingy strip club ceased to exist in her line of sight. Only him. In her head, she could hear the patter of rain on dirty concrete, masking the smell of garbage. She remembered coming across a broken man in an alley years ago. His searching, intense gaze had made her body react in strange ways. Her skin felt suddenly hot, the dress plastered too close to her skin.
Carver.
She’d never forgotten him and hoped to see him again someday, absurd as that sounded. Even back then, she’d understood they came from two different worlds, that their paths would be unlikely to cross again.
“Boss? We interrupting you? I can take this elsewhere,” Anatoli said. Even the mobster’s tone had changed from cocky to respectful.
Carver ignored Anatoli. He stood right in front of her and pressed his fingers to her chin, tilting her head. A teardrop rolled down her left cheek, and he thumbed it away, looking more pissed than ever.
“What did he say to make you cry, angel?” he asked, voice harsher, deeper than she remembered.
The whole situation felt so surreal that she couldn’t give him an answer. His fingers were big, callused, yet so gentle. His gaze searched hers, and while she knew without a doubt he might be the biggest monster in this room, she didn’t feel threatened by him. Yasmin didn’t know why she didn’t fear him, couldn’t understand why she didn’t push him away or bolt for the room’s nearest exit.
A moment ago, her father had offered her to these mobsters like a bargaining chip, but now, things had changed.
“Boss, you know this bitch?” Anatoli asked.
Boss. Yes, Anatoli called Carver that earlier. She couldn’t forget the fire in Carver’s eyes ten years ago when he said that someday, he’d repay his debt to her. It didn’t shock her that he was no longer the desperate and bloody man who looked like he had nothing to lose years ago. A man like Carver wouldn’t take defeat lying down like a dog. Of course he’d rise to the very top. Now, everyone feared him, politicians and reputable businessmen alike.
Carver’s other hand looked like a blur. She didn’t even see the knife he pulled out until he slammed the blade into the center of the wood table.
“Call her that again and I won’t hesitate to cut off your tongue,” Carver said simply, releasing his hold on her.
Her heart hammered painfully against her chest. Did Yasmin seriously think for a moment that she would be safe with the kingpin?
Anatoli cleared his throat. “I had no idea.”
“Now you do. What’s the situation here?” Carver didn’t ask. He demanded.
Here was a man in command, used to giving orders. She shivered, wondering what Carver would be like in the bedroom. He’d be controlling, dominating even. Carver would be able to give what she’d only dreamed of. Her first boyfriend called her a freak, a slut, and other worse names when she confessed to him about her dark desires, and he’d made her ashamed of them. Carver wouldn’t laugh. He’d give her exactly what she’d craved.
Why did that thought make her pulse race, her heart skip a beat? This was so wrong on many levels. She should be worried about her life, how this situation would turn out. Dangerous thoughts. Tangling with a man like Carver would be like playing with fire.
Yasmin wouldn’t come out unscathed, but he didn’t interrupt Anatoli out of the kindness of his heart. Did men like Carver even have a heart? Ten years ago, she’d glimpsed the darkness in him and knew he wasn’t a good man, but even now, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
“Larry McDowell here owes us thirty grand,
and I offered to take his daughter off his hands to settle his debt,” Anatoli said.
Her father looked from Anatoli then to him. Too late. She recognized the greedy glint in his eyes. Larry had that same look when he took her to the races for her fourteenth birthday instead of the amusement park like he promised.
Larry rubbed his hands in anticipation, and she knew whatever he’d say next would only land them both in further trouble. He licked his lips. “I see you have a thing for her, kingpin. She’s pretty, I give you that. What do you say we cancel my debt and you can have her all to yourself? I’d really be grateful. I’ll tell everyone about your mercy and kindness.”
Yasmin stared at him, opened her mouth, then closed it. Spewing a number of curses at him wouldn’t help. She couldn’t believe the same blood ran in her veins. Ungrateful bastard. All the times she’d sprung him out of trouble, paid for his bail, amounted to this. Reality felt like a brutal slap to her face. He really didn’t give a damn about her. All Larry was concerned about was saving his own skin.
Why did she think that she could still change him? Her father was beyond saving.
One shove and the table toppled over. Anatoli got out of the way, but Larry’s chair fell over. The next thing Yasmin knew, Carver grabbed the knife embedded on the table. He moved at a speed she didn’t think possible for a man of his size and shoved Larry to the closest wall, one hand over Larry’s throat while he gripped the knife.
“Insect, you think you can make deals with me?” Carver didn’t shout, but everyone in the room could hear the threat in his deadly and quiet voice.
Larry choked, his face beginning to turn purple. He flailed his arms, trying to kick at Carver, but it was useless.
“Wait, please.” Yasmin knew it was suicide, running up to Carter. One of the suits moved, but she reached Carter in time. “Please don’t kill him. He’s my father.”
“This piece of garbage doesn’t deserve to draw breath.” Carver practically spat out the words.
Panic seized her. The image of the hospital room where her mother had spent her last months rose up in her head. She remembered walking in at twelve years old, wondering who the shrunken and pale figure on the bed was, but her mother’s grip on her fingers remained firm, filled with unexpected strength. Take care of your father. He’ll lose his way without me.
God knew she’d tried to keep their family together, but it got too hard. She needed to live her own life, too, to get away from the poison her father had become. In the end, she’d ended up back where she started.
Yasmin said the first thing in her head. “I’m yours. I won’t fight you. Do what you want with me but let him live. Please.”
“After all he’s done to you, you’re still going to beg for his life?” Carver’s narrowed gaze pinned her in place, stripping her to the core. For a moment, she thought he could see right into her soul, but she didn’t mistake the interest there. This man had showed her, in a span of a few seconds, that he had no hesitation when out came to snuffing out lives.
“I promised my mom on her deathbed I’d look after him,” she whispered. “Please.”
Those painful next seconds dragged on like hours. Finally, Carver released his hold on Larry’s throat. Yasmin winced as Carver kicked him in the ribs.
What had she done? Did she really give herself to the kingpin, just so he could spare the life of a man who didn’t hesitate to sell her off to pay off his debts?
“You’re going to pay Anatoli every penny, with ten percent more interest,” Carver said in a toneless voice. “Anatoli, get this scum out of my sight.”
Carver turned to her, curving his lips to a smile that made her shudder in fear, in anticipation. She felt a little lightheaded and began swaying slightly on her feet.
“As for you, angel, you now belong to me,” Carver said before she lost consciousness.
Chapter Three
Yasmin woke up on an incredibly soft but unfamiliar bed. She opened her eyes to slits, eying the sunlight peering from the partially closed curtains. Like the curtains, the bedsheets she lay on were black. She fingered the fabric, which felt silky to the touch. Certainly nothing she could afford.
She rubbed at her eyes, glad to be woken up from her nightmare. Then she noticed she wasn’t alone. Yasmin sat up, swallowing as she looked down. No clothes. She always slept in one of her comfy big tees, never naked. Yasmin silently checked herself. No aches or pains. What just happened?
“You’re finally awake,” said the same voice that had haunted her nightmare.
A quick look around the space told her this wasn’t her bedroom. Clean lines. Almost spartan furniture. The curtains and bedsheets contrasted with the white walls and marble flooring. A collection of guns lined one side of the wall, next to the giant TV. More decorated the wall next to the big desk with the laptop. Black and white, unlike the room’s owner, who only saw shades of gray.
Yasmin finally found the courage to look at the man sitting on the armchair facing the bed. Her father, heck, most of the people in the city, painted the kingpin as a monster. Carver had positioned the chair far from the window, seemingly choosing to remain cloaked in the shadows, but Yasmin could make out his huge outline just fine.
“You’re real,” she whispered, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her body.
Yasmin tugged the comforter higher. That only made him chuckle. She furiously blushed, recalling the words she’d hurled at him out of desperation. I’m yours. Horror flooded her, and excitement. That last emotion made her wary. Aside from that one meeting years ago, Carver was a complete stranger. He was also a name parents whispered to keep their children in bed at nights.
“Very real,” he agreed. “Did you wish it was all a dream, angel? Did you forget that offered yourself in exchange for that bastard?”
“No, I didn’t forget.”
She raised her chin. If he thought he could intimidate her, he’d soon find out she was no pushover. Yet, hadn’t she entertained the notion of submitting to him in bed? God. Everything was so confusing. Any normal person would be begging for their lives by now or finding the nearest exit routes. Maybe she was really born with a kind of wrongness.
“How long have you been watching me?” she asked when he didn’t say anything else.
“Long enough.” He rose to his feet, and she shrank back against the headboard, heart thumping. Carver looked so much bigger than she thought. Yasmin wasn’t a small woman, yet she looked tiny compared to him. He sat on the edge of the bed, not touching her. No suit this time, but Carver looked good in a pair of worn in jeans and a plain black shirt. “Are you afraid of me?”
“Who wouldn’t be in my position?” she fired back.
“I don’t like people who go back on their deals.”
“I believe you,” she said in a whisper.
“There’s no reason to fear me, especially if you keep your word, Yas. Tell me, are you regretting your decision now?”
“I—I don’t know,” she admitted. “My dad?”
“Back home, but you? You’ll be staying with me. One of my men accompanied your father and will be bringing all your belongings here.”
“You can’t just make decisions like that,” she blurted unthinkingly.
Carver laughed. “It’s been a long time since anyone said what I can and cannot do.”
Recalling how Carver nearly choked her father to death for suggesting Carver take her to pay all his debts off, she bit her lower lip.
“Never forget. You sold yourself to me to save a useless piece of trash.”
“Are you going to remind me of that little fact every single time we’re together?”
Carver inched closer, switched from the edge of the bed to the empty space next to her. He reached out, and she didn’t draw back as he cupped her burning cheek.
“No, but I’m going to prove to you that was the best decision you ever made in your entire life.”
She turned her head away, and he stopped touching her. Yasmin tense
d, thinking he’d instantly roll on top of her and force her, except Carver didn’t do any of those things. “Coming back to this city was the worst choice I ever made. If I didn’t come back to help my dad, none of this would have happened.”
“Don’t say that, angel.” Carver regarded her for a long time, but she didn’t miss the way he eyed her body under the sheets.
Yasmin’s nipples tightened to points, her pussy grew wet, and she was so glad for the comforter. She didn’t know why it made her entire body flush. When Anatoli and his guys looked at her, she felt nothing but revulsion and fear. Somehow, when Carver looked at her, she felt warm all over. She clutched at the fabric, wondering what in hell’s name this man was doing to her.
Yasmin never reacted like this to the other men she dated, those who only saw tits and hips. To them, she was only good enough for a quick fuck but not good enough to be seen in public, but Carver looked at her like some kind of grand prize, a treasure he didn’t want to let go of. Damn. She must really have a loose screw somewhere.
“Tell me. Is it so fucking unbearable, being in the same room with me?”
“What?” Yasmin didn’t get him at all. After seeing him in action at the club, she assumed he had a temper and lacked patience, yet here they were, having a conversation.
“Are you happy with your current life? Do you want me to let you go?”
His questions caught her off-guard. She giggled, unable to help himself. Carver narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything until she recovered.
“God, this must be some kind of sick game to you. You tell me I belong to you one moment and the next, you’re asking me if I want freedom?”
She shook her head. Did he think she was foolish enough to piss off the most powerful man in the city? Where would she even go? Yasmin had no one she could rely on but herself. Running now would backfire on her. Carver probably had top-notch security. Wherever she’d go, he’d find her. The kingpin had deep pockets and connections with the local police and politicians.
Taken by the Kingpin Page 2
