Taken by the Kingpin

by Winter Sloane

  “Hey,” she began, taking his hand, spreading his fingers out and positioning it over her left breast. “This heart is yours. Trust me.”

  He let out a harsh laugh. “Trust is a luxury in my world, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

  “You would?”

  “On one condition.”

  She groaned, as if anticipating his next words. “Jake?”

  He nodded. Carver didn’t add he’d post two, maybe three, other men in case Holcomb had other allies. Holcomb had never been much of a thinker, so he doubted it, but when it came to her, Carver wouldn’t take chances. Carver only hoped if she ever did come to a decision, it didn’t involve leaving him because he doubted he could ever set her free.

  Chapter Ten

  “Ma’am, we’re here,” said the cabbie, making Yasmin jerk her gaze from her phone and to the cab windows.

  Seeing those rusted iron gates leading to St. Catherine’s cemetery turned her insides to nervous knots. With numbed fingers, she pulled out a few bills from her wallet and got off. She stood there at the entrance for a few moments, even after the cab drove away. A few visitors passed her, but she couldn’t seem to take that first step forward.

  The last time she’d been here had been years ago. Yasmin could never summon the courage to face her mom, because she could barely keep her promise about looking after her father. Fleeing to another city to try to start a new life had only worsened that fear. She clutched her purse tightly in one hand, and the dozen daises in another.

  The first thing she’d done was to make a quick stop to the nearest florist for the daises, her mom’s favorite flowers. Last night’s events felt surreal in her mind’s eye. It felt like the shooting happened to someone else, but she knew, even now, that despite not seeing them, Carver had sent one of his security guys to watch her.

  Just a week ago, she would have been pissed off with a bodyguard constantly hovering near her. Last night had changed plenty of things. She remembered touching the bullet hole in his jacket in shock, because being shot at by some thug didn’t happen to normal people. Yasmin also couldn’t forget how tense his entire body had become when he told her she needed to do this errand alone, how tightly he’d held her close. The most powerful man in the city, the kingpin who feared nothing, had been scared for her sake, terrified of losing her.

  Running into the car with Jake tugging her to safety and leaving Carver behind to deal with the shooter—she knew exactly how the kingpin felt. Losing him felt like losing a part of herself. After trying to build something, a kind of relationship with him, she didn’t think she’d recover if the worst happened, if the worst happened and he died. Just thinking about it tore her heart to shreds.

  There was a danger, in caring so deeply for another person, and Carver said so himself. Danger was unavoidable in his world. She’d already slowly come to accept the darker side of him, but that felt a lot easier than knowing he might be taken from her by some bastard toting a gun.

  Yasmin took a deep breath. She needed to visit her mom sooner or later. Maybe it would help her come to a decision. She walked in through those iron gates. One step, then another. It became a lot easier. She’d worn her best black dress today, accompanied by sensible black flats. Yasmin didn’t know why she dressed up, but it felt important.

  Soon enough, she reached the spot where her mom was buried. Yasmin expected an untended grave, but the grass looked freshly cut, the tombstone free of dirt and grime. She knelt, frowning at the daises at the foot of the gravestone. They looked maybe a few days old. She sucked in a breath, knowing who they were from, because she knew both her parents had cut ties to their families when they got married.

  Larry.

  The same man who’d showed no remorse in selling her out, who reverted to old habits as soon as he wormed his way out of one mess. She set her flowers next to his, culling the urge to shred the other dozen. That would make her seem petty as hell, but she didn’t think she’d ever forgive Larry, not in this lifetime.

  “You know what, Mom? Dad’s become a real dick, and it feels like I’ve wasted my entire life, cleaning up his messes.” God, those shouldn’t be her first words, but saying them out loud felt good. “I’m sorry I can’t keep my promise, but only now I realize, you might forgive me for that. My real dad died when you did, and all that’s left is an empty husk, a stranger.”

  She touched the stone, feeling the engraving with her fingers. Tears unexpectedly welled up in her eyes. She’d cried last night, too, damn it. This wasn’t like her at all, but yesterday and today were special circumstances.

  “There are times I miss you so much. I wish I had a mom I could confide in, talk to.” She let out a sigh. Two elderly ladies passed her by, but she didn’t care how crazy she might seem, talking to a tombstone. Yasmin bet people did it all the time. She didn’t know why she felt the sudden urge to come here after all these years. Closure, maybe.

  “I met this guy,” she continued once the ladies were out of earshot. “He’s—well, he’s the kind of bad man every mother warns her daughter to stay away from, but underneath it all, he’s a decent man. Last night, I had a rude awakening when I caught a glimpse of what it’s like being in his world.”

  Yasmin balled her hands into fists on her lap. Did she have the strength, the courage to stand next to the man the entire city called kingpin, monster, and other worse names? She was the only one who saw any good in him. Yasmin didn’t fail to notice the fear in the eyes of some of the men who worked under Carver.

  He always called her “angel”, and while she didn’t think she deserved that nickname, she finally had an inkling why. A snippet of a conversation she had with her mother when she was a little girl floated in her mind. She smiled, knowing what her mom would have said. They had so little time together, but it had been enough. Bits of her mother had made her into the woman she was today.

  Yasmin rose to her feet and brushed the dirt and leaves that clung to her dress. She had her answer.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carver couldn’t focus on the rest of the day, knowing Yasmin was out in the city with limited protection. Jake left him regular updates, but he wanted to see her, touch her, hold her close to him. Calm the fuck down, he reminded himself. Only a day had passed. She might need several days, weeks, months even. Did he even possess the patience to wait that long?

  He drummed his fingers on the conference table. Sal and the others must have known he wasn’t in the best of moods because he didn’t say much as they talked about their upcoming shipments.

  “We’ve gathered enough information on Holcomb,” Sal began.

  That interested him. Carver sat up in his chair straight and looked at his second-in-command expectantly. Sal continued. “Holcomb worked alone, had no known allies, only the hotel security he bribed. After he left our organization, he owed people plenty of money.”

  “So, the bastard just wanted to kill me out of desperation? You sure he’s not working for someone else?”

  “Positive. I personally asked around, and no other family or organization took him in. We also found cocaine in his apartment.”

  “Using or selling?”

  “User, our guy at the morgue sent us photos of the needle marks on his arms.”

  Carver stretched out his legs, relieved Holcomb’s assassination attempt hadn’t been complicated or part of some bigger plan. Then again, he knew from personal experience that those pushed to the edge of desperation were more dangerous than sane men. Holcomb’s bloodshot eyes last night had showed him the fucker had been serious about taking his life, without caring other people got injured in the process.

  “I see, then case closed. Meeting’s over,” he announced.

  Everyone else in the room left, save for Sal. Carver stood up and walked to the bulletproof floor-to-ceilings windows. and peered at the view of the city. Years ago, he’d set up shop in this building situated in the city’s financial district for a reason. In the public’s eye, he owned and ran couple
of legitimate business while conducting his real money earners on the side. Carver didn’t need to. He could have relied on shipping weapons the entire time, but maybe part of him knew someday, he wanted to move from the illegal to the legal.

  “Everything good with your woman?” Sal asked, appearing by his shoulder.

  “Working on it. She wanted time alone. I have Jake and few guys following her.” Carver irritably tugged at his tie. Once it came undone, he jerked it out.

  “She going to be a runner?”

  He cracked his knuckles and counted to ten silently in his head to prevent himself from knocking Sal’s teeth out. One, Sal was one of the few people he trusted, who got him and wouldn’t stab him in the back. Two, he wanted those in his inner circle to like each other.

  “No, she’s going to be a permanent part of my life,” he said with confidence. “My plans haven’t changed. Last night shook her up, that’s all.”

  “I hope so. It’s not easy, being the kingpin’s future bride.”

  “Bride.” He grinned. Carver supposed that was Sal’s way of apologizing, of doubting his woman was going to stick around. “I like the fucking sound of that. Someday, you’ll understand.”

  Sal snorted. “Me? Nah. That relationship shit looks complicated.”

  “Well, you say that now, but fate has a way of kicking you in the balls when you least expect it,” Carver said, remembering that rainy day a decade ago and Yasmin looking at his beat-up form on the ground with concern in her eyes. Fuck, he missed her and they’d only been a few hours apart. “I’ll head home early today. Anything comes up, ring me.”

  “Will do, boss.”

  ****

  An unexpected surprised waited for Carver back home. He frowned at the grin Jake flashed him.

  “Something funny?” he asked, not in the mood for games. Carver planned on getting hammered, maybe distract himself with work and finally look at the numbers Benny sent him for the upcoming months’ shipments. Might as well do something productive, because he knew he’d keep thinking about her.

  “She’s back,” was all Jake said, opening the front door for him.

  An unnamed emotion leapt in his chest, making his heart beat a little faster. Hope. Relief. Strange how a man comfortable with spilling blood could be reduced to a nervous teenager. She had that effect on him. Darkness greeted him. Carver slipped out of his shoes and turned on the lights. No Yasmin, but he noticed the opened bedroom door. An invitation perhaps?

  He entered the room and stopped in his tracks by the doorway. She waited for him, reclining on the center of the bed with nothing on, except matching black-lace underwear that barely concealed anything. Her breasts nearly spilled out of the sheer fabric, and it would be easy, ripping those straps around her waist so he could have access to her pussy.

  A rumble of approval tore out of his chest. She blushed, and he remembered that in the beginning, she’s always been self-conscious, not entirely comfortable with her own body. He savored taking the time reminding her to him she was a goddess, fucking perfect.

  “Hi, I didn’t know what time you’d be back,” she said, sitting up and rubbing at her arms. “I started getting cold. I’ve never worn anything so—um, this kind of thing for a man. Oh crap. Did that spoil the mood?”

  Carver smirked and went to the side of the bed, sat down, and pulled her towards him. She spilled into his lap, a look of uncertainty on her face, but when he slipped one possessive hand up her left thigh, a small smile played on her lips.

  “I can warm you right up, although I can promise you that these,” Carver began, tracing the underside of one bra before trailing his fingers lower, down the curve of her belly to the hem of her sexy underwear. She shivered. He continued, “Wouldn’t stay on you long.”

  Carver’s dick thickened, straining against the zipper of his jeans as he closed one hand over the back of her neck and kissed her, enjoying the familiar taste of her. Yasmin planted her hands over his chest and kissed him back with a passion that rivaled his own. Carver reeled in the urge to rip that fragile black piece of cloth covering her cunt and sink his dick inside her, remind her who she belonged to.

  Conversation came first. Sex didn’t solve everything, and while he was new at this, he wanted to learn, to grow with the woman he planned on spending the rest of his life with.

  “You visited a cemetery,” he stated.

  She groaned. “You want to start with that?”

  He closed one hand over her waist, pulled her close, and pressed a kiss to her pulse. “Talk to me, angel.”

  She shifted on his lap. “I did. I visited my mother. I hadn’t done that in ages. I guess I was just scared.”

  “Scared, you?” he asked with a laugh. “You’re the exact opposite of that.”

  The smile she wore seemed to light up her entire face. She circled her arms around his shoulders and sighed. “Before she passed away, she made me promise to look after my dad. I screwed that job up.”

  “It’s not your responsibility to look after a drunk, a gambler who gives two fucks about you. You did your best, angel. Your mom would be proud.”

  “I get that now, that only my father can help himself. I kept pushing him to go to his AA meetings, to see a therapist, but he’d always just use the money to buy more booze or skip out on those expensive sessions. You really think so? My mom—”

  “Yes,” he answered, tightening his embrace when she laid her head against his chest. “Any mother would be fucking glad to have you as a daughter, but, angel, don’t you think it’s about time you focus on your own happiness?”

  She bit her lower lip. “When I was there at her grave, I remembered she used to tell me one thing. When you find that one special person in the entire world, you don’t let go. If she were alive, she’d tell me to stick with my man, for better or worse.”

  “Sounds like a marriage proposal to me,” he drawled, unable to keep the cockiness in his voice.

  “Maybe,” she blurted. “Maybe it is.”

  Pleasure filled him at her words, but it seemed she wasn’t done.

  “Last night scared the hell out of me,” she admitted. “Not because I could’ve died but because I could have lost you, and that scares me more than anything else.”

  “I want you to know that situations like these might happen, but I can take care of myself and I trust my men to have my back.”

  “Carver, what’s our future going to be like?”

  Fuck, but Carver never imagined someone showing so much concern for him. He didn’t like seeing her hurting. He’d always known Yasmin was too good for him, but he could spend the rest of his life making her happy. Whatever she wanted, he’d give it to her, even if meant slowly abandoning the only way of life he knew. With time, he could do it. For her, he’d do anything.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Our future,” Carver continued, kissing her gently on the lips, “could be whatever you want it to be.”

  “I know your business, your organization, is important to you,” she began. Yasmin had thought about this long and hard. “But I also know that you have your own rules, that you’d never deal in drugs, women, or kids. The city’s crime rate has gone down over the past years because you claimed most of the bad neighborhoods as your territory.”

  Carver whistled. “Looks like my angel had been a busy little bee.”

  “I didn’t want to go into this blind, but you’re my man.” She took a deep breath. Yasmin understood Carver saw himself as only a monster, but that wasn’t true. She’d be there to remind him that he was so much more. He needed one person in his life who understood him completely and held no judgment. She continued. “And I’ll accept all of you, no matter the deeds you’ve committed in the past.”

  He kissed her again, and damn it, just one taste and she became hooked. At this rate, with him continuing to touch her, she’d want to melt into him, let him take control. Focus, she told herself, because he could have taken her on the bed, but instead, chose to have this impo
rtant conversation. Carver had changed. A week ago, he wouldn’t have listened or tried working their issues out.

  “Angel, you might not know this, but I own a few legit businesses. It will take time, but in a few years, we can be completely legitimate.”

  She sucked in a breath, unable to believe he said those words. “But this organization is everything to you.”

  “You’re more important, and besides, you’ll be carrying our future children. I’d want them to grow up not knowing fear.”

  Children. God. Tears filled her eyes. She always wanted kids, but her ex didn’t see much of a future with her. Carver, by contrast, seemed to have been planning this for a long time. Yasmin could see it now, having their own home, a boy or girl having both of their combined looks.

  “What—when—” she faltered, unsure of where to begin.

  Carver took her hands in his and kissed them, the devil in his smile. “Then I accept. You’re going to mine in every sense of the word, my gorgeous, sexy wife.”

  She blushed, recalling she’d proposed to him, but she meant every word. Yasmin couldn’t imagine a future without her kingpin, her fiancé.

  ****

  One Month Later

  Yasmin fussed with the hem of her wedding dress, smoothed out the soft fabric, then gazed at herself in the mirror. Weeks ago, she would have called the woman looking back at her a stranger. She’d never thought she could ever be this happy in her life. Naturally, Carver spared no expense in getting her the best dress.

  He even flew in a designer from Italy, who specialized in making plus-sized dresses, and this one fitted her like a glove. White silk wrapped around her upper body, gracefully exposing her shoulders and arms, and the base flared out with its multitude of layers. It didn’t feel heavy though, as if the dress was made of a special kind of material. She felt like a princess, and the dress was exactly as she envisioned when she and Carver had sat down one afternoon with the designer.

  A smile curved at her lips. Carver had been especially attentive these past weeks, and wanted everything perfect, according to her specifications.