Violent Beginnings : A Dark Enemies To Lovers Mafia Romance

by J. L. Beck

  Copyright © 2020 by Beck & Hallman LLC

  Editing by Kelly Allenby

  Cover Design by C. Hallman

  Cover Image by Wander AGUIAR :: PHOTOGRAPHY

  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.

  Blurb

  The deal was sealed the moment she stepped onto that stage.

  It was like seeing a ghost. Sunshine blonde hair, pale skin, and azure eyes that held a thousand secrets.

  I didn’t know what caused her to end up on that auction block.

  And I didn’t care either.

  All I knew was that I had to have her… no matter the cost.

  One-million dollars later and she became just that.

  Mine to break.

  Mine to use.

  Mine to keep.

  We all have secrets, and when I discover hers, no one will be able to save her from me.

  *This is a complete standalone, 100k+ word novel. It contains dark themes, including violence and sexual situations. As always, there is no cheating, and a happily ever after.*

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Fallon

  2. Markus

  3. Fallon

  4. Markus

  5. Fallon

  6. Markus

  7. Fallon

  8. Markus

  9. Fallon

  10. Markus

  11. Fallon

  12. Markus

  13. Fallon

  14. Markus

  15. Fallon

  16. Markus

  17. Fallon

  18. Markus

  19. Fallon

  20. Markus

  21. Fallon

  22. Markus

  23. Fallon

  24. Markus

  25. Fallon

  26. Markus

  27. Fallon

  28. Markus

  29. Fallon

  30. Markus

  31. Fallon

  32. Markus

  33. Fallon

  34. Markus

  35. Fallon

  36. Markus

  37. Fallon

  38. Markus

  39. Fallon

  40. Markus

  Epilogue

  Cruel Obsession Sneak Peek

  About the Authors

  Also by the Authors

  Prologue

  Markus

  Blood. It coats everything with warmth. Each rivulet is like a brush of paint against a white canvas. It surrounds me. Drowning me in its darkness. I did this. I killed her. Staring down at her beautiful face, I realize I’ll never be able to see her smile, never be able to hold her hand in mine again. Her blue eyes will never shine with excitement at my presence. I’ll never hear her say my name again. She is gone.

  My insides twist as if someone is trying to twirl them with a fork.

  You did this.

  You killed her.

  I look away, but the blood is still there.

  There is no escaping what I’ve done.

  “We have to go, Markus,” my friend, Anthony, calls, his voice filled with panic.

  I can’t move, can’t breathe. Police sirens echo in the distance, but the dooming fate they bring doesn’t faze me. All I see is her face, her pale, cold skin, her lifeless eyes. Her name forms on my lips, but I can’t get the word out. Not that speaking her name would make her answer. Not with a bullet lodged in her skull.

  “Markus! Let’s go. She’s dead.” Anthony speaks a truth that I feel in my soul. I can barely get my body to move; my legs feel like jello. All I want to do is lie here beside her and cradle her body against mine.

  She’s dead.

  “We have to go, Markus. If they catch us, you’ll go to prison for sure. Moretti will kill you!”

  Somehow, I manage to get my legs to move. Pushing off the concrete, I can’t pull my gaze from her.

  Dead. Gone. My future. Taken in a second.

  I feel a tug on my shirt and realize Anthony is physically pulling me toward the car. Part of me feels I deserve to go to prison and pay the ultimate price but the fact I am still breathing, and she is not, will be my suffering.

  On unsteady feet, I stumble backward, letting Anthony pull me to the car. The sirens grow louder, and I feel pain and anger. Anger that she was here when she shouldn’t have been, anger toward myself, and to the fuckers that shot her.

  By the grace of God, I make it into the SUV, and we race away just as the first sight of lights flash across the rearview mirror.

  “Did you know that girl?” Anthony huffs from the driver’s seat, his hands trembling as he drives.

  I contemplate telling him, yes, but it’s none of his concern. The plan was to keep her sheltered from the darkness that followed me.

  “No,” I reply dryly, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. Peering out the window, I blink the fucker away. Men don’t cry. They don’t show weakness.

  “Oh, well, it looked like you knew her. I’ve never seen you like that…”

  “I didn’t,” I growl, because again, admitting such a thing would only make me look weak. Still, deep down inside, I admit the truth. I more than knew her. She was a part of me.

  I might not have pulled the trigger, but I killed her just the same.

  I killed the love of my life, and I’ll have to live with that so long as I remain breathing.

  1

  Fallon

  Sacrifice. That sums up my life. Like a cow before going to the butcher, I’m being prepared for auction, where I’ll be placed on a block for a group of men to purchase me like I’m inhuman, nothing more than an item.

  I’ve tried to prepare myself for today, knowing what’s to come. At least on the outside, I attempt to look like a warrior, while on the inside, I’m a leaf shaking in the wind, barely hanging on.

  I’ve been held prisoner for the last three days. They grabbed me off the sidewalk while I was walking home from a college class. In the dark, no one heard my screams or saw me, overcome with fear, afraid about what would happen next, fighting as they shoved me into the back of the van. I push those memories into the recesses of my mind.

  I want to forget the small, cold cell I was kept in without clothes or a blanket. I want to forget it all. The worst part was the dark. There was no window or light in my cell—only darkness. Sometimes bugs would crawl on me, but I couldn’t see anything.

  Now, light and noise surround me. It’s overwhelming. The four other girls are crying, some sobbing uncontrollably. I pride myself on not crying in front of the men who are about to sell us. I’ve cried enough in the last three days to last me a lifetime. I’m done crying. No amount of begging or pleading will convince these monsters to let me go.

  Naked as the day I was born, I stand with the girls, each one of us different from the next. We’ve only just met since we were kept alone before today, but alone or together, I already feel a connection to each one of them.

  Kindred spirits by our captor’s makings, knowing we share one and the same fate.

  “Put this on,” one of the men growls and hands us each a scrap of clothing. Mine is a white lace fabric with gold trim.

  I look at the dress in my hand, if you can even call it that. It’s barely enough to cover my privates. It looks like the kind of lingerie a woman would wear under a wedding dress. I almost laugh at the thought.

  Objecting isn’t an option, so I do as instructed.
Pulling it over my body, I hope to feel a little more human, but I don’t. If anything, I feel even more like a cheap hooker than I did before.

  Goosebumps pebble my flesh, blanketing me. I feel bare—exposed, and I hate it.

  The girl beside me lets out a ragged sob, and I turn just enough to look at her. Her hair is black, sleek, and straight. I don’t gawk at her or look at her body, but I can tell she is on the slimmer side and young. Most likely barely of age.

  Tears stream down her cheeks, and she is shaking so badly her entire body is vibrating.

  “Stop crying, whore!” one of the men orders. “If you think it’s bad now, wait until after the auction. I’d love to hear your cries then.”

  His voice makes me shiver and leaves me feeling sick to my stomach. Suddenly, I’m grateful that I didn’t eat anything. Even though I was hungry earlier, I couldn’t bring myself to take a single bite from the stale sandwich they brought me.

  The guy suddenly looks past me and nods. “Finally. I thought we were gonna have to send them out without a shot.”

  Shot? What are they talking about now? Just as I ask that question in my mind, a woman appears at the side of me. A woman in scrubs with a hospital ID card clipped to her hip.

  I look up and meet her gaze, expecting to see fear, compassion, or shock, but I find none of those in the depth of her green eyes.

  Only indifference. Like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

  “What are you doing?” I ask when she stops right in front of me.

  “Don’t talk, please,” she answers in a flat voice.

  She keeps her eyes down like she doesn’t want to look into my face while she pulls out a small box from her oversized purse. Flipping the case open, I count five syringes inside.

  “Hold her arm,” she orders one of the men.

  A moment later, my arm is being grabbed and held still so the woman can clean a spot with an alcohol wipe before injecting me with whatever is inside the syringe. Funny, she cleans my arm, worried I might get an infection but fails to care what is happening to all of us.

  “What was that?” I ask, hoping she’ll at least give me the courtesy of telling me.

  “Birth control,” is all she says before moving on down the line of girls.

  “Men buy you for fucking, not breeding.” The guy who was holding my arm chuckles and releases me with a shove.

  He walks away, moving onto the next girl, and a spot in my chest starts to ache for the girl beside me. I don’t know her story, how she came to be here, if it was of her own choice or someone else’s. I don’t know the circumstances that gave her this fate, but I want to help her.

  “Hey…” I call out. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” I try to reassure her.

  She looks over at me, and I notice then that her eyes are green and framed by thick lashes that are soaked. The skin around her eyes is swollen from the constant crying.

  “I… I want to go home.” Her bottom lip trembles as she speaks, and her chest rises and falls so dramatically I know she is close to having an anxiety attack.

  “My name’s Fallon,” I tell her, attempting to distract her. “What’s yours?”

  The girl looks away for a second before looking back. “Julie,” she replies after a moment. I’m not sure how to comfort her because while I’m not showing it, I’m scared out of my mind on the inside. I have no idea what will happen to me after tonight.

  Where will I go? Fear of the unknown is the only thing I have.

  “It’s okay to be scared, Julie. Everything is going to be okay,” I assure her, even though we both know it’s a lie. But what else am I going to tell her? What can I do to ease her mind, even if it’s just a little?

  Shaking her head, she sends pieces of dark hair across her face. “It’s not going to be okay,” her voice cracks with raw pain, “aren’t you scared? Afraid of what will happen to you tonight?” Her questions make it hard for me to swallow.

  I try not to focus on the future or what will happen tomorrow. It’s not promised for any of us, especially not under these circumstances.

  “Yes, I’m afraid. I’m terrified, but I can’t let that fear own me. I won’t.”

  “Then you’re stronger than me,” she shamefully admits.

  “How did you end up here?” I ask, not wanting the conversation to end yet.

  I’ve been stuck inside my head all day, trying to figure out my next step. Now that I’m here, I know the decision has already been made for me.

  Her lip trembles and her eyes become glassy once more. “My father. He owed some money to the wrong person, and because he couldn’t pay, they took me instead.”

  Heartbreaking.

  Her response reminds me that we’re all fighting our own invisible battles, merely trying to get through today so we can see a better tomorrow.

  “What about you?”

  “I…” I’ve tried not to think about the circumstances that have gotten me to this point. At nineteen, I never thought I would find myself in a situation like this, but I can’t undo what is already done. “Someone grabbed me as I walked home after class.”

  Julie nods. “What do you think they’ll do with us after the auction?”

  She whispers the question almost as if she knows the fate that lies ahead but is too afraid to see it with her own eyes.

  I shiver involuntarily, fear coiling tightly in my gut. A man willing to buy any one of us isn’t going to take us home to merely clean his house and cook for him. He’s going to use us, over and over again, leaving us a shell of the person we used to be. Nothing innocent will come from whoever purchases us.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think it will be anything good,” I reply honestly, licking my dry bottom lip. My throat tightens, and the fear I’ve been trying to swallow down and keep at bay starts to rise up again.

  I’ve mentally prepared myself to be raped and caged by the man who is going to buy me, but what if it gets even worse?

  What if I’m tortured?

  What if he kills me?

  The questions swirl, taking the shape of a tornado.

  After the woman is done administering the drug, she takes her bag and leaves, as if this was just another day at the office for her.

  The men come back around and start putting collars around our necks like we’re fucking dogs. The collars are heavy, made out of thick leather with metal rings on the front and back. They tighten them to the point of being uncomfortable and secure them with a small lock on the side.

  Next, they put metal cuffs around our wrists and attach those to chains, which are hooked to the front of our collars.

  Julie starts to sniffle. “This is wrong. How can they do this to us? Chain us up like animals and auction us off?”

  The girl beside Julie leans over. “Be quiet, or you’ll get us all in trouble.”

  “I don’t want to be quiet. I want to go home.” Julie starts to sob once more, her chains rattle as she struggles against them.

  Despair and anguish are all I feel, along with deep sadness.

  I look down at my own body and feel immediate shame. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Even after a few days, I think this has to be a bad dream. A nightmare I’m about to wake up from.

  I’m so lost in my own head that I barely notice Julie breaking out of line and running toward the door.

  “No!” I yell after her, but it’s already too late.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” The man closest to the door snatches her by the hair and pulls her back viciously. He slams her body to the floor violently, like a rag doll, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint I have not to rush to her aide. If I struggle or try and save her, I’ll be risking my own life. Is it worth it? The smart thing to do is turn the other cheek, ignore what is taking place even though it’s right in front of me. That’s not me… to turn and look the other way when someone else is in trouble, but what more can I do?

  The other two men in the room laugh, the so
und making my stomach churn. The poor girl is pulled from the floor by her hair while a man twice her size rears his fist back and punches her in the stomach.

  No! I scream inside my head, desperate to help her, but too afraid to move.

  She doubles over, practically folding in half, and cries out in pain before spitting blood all over the guy’s shirt.

  “Fucking shit! Rick, how many times do we need to tell you not to damage the girls on auction day?” A guy with dark hair and menacing eyes, who seems to be in charge, questions with disgust as he walks into the room and inspects Julie.

  She continues spitting up blood while hunched over, her slender arms wrapped around her middle like she’s trying to hold herself together. All I want to do is go over there and wrap my arms around her, but I’m rooted in place, knowing the consequences will be grave if I do.

  She doesn’t deserve this. None of us do.

  “I can’t sell her like this. Take her back to one of the cells. If she’s still alive come the next auction, we can sell her then, but the difference is coming out of your paycheck, idiot.”

  He dismisses her like she is worth less than the dirt beneath our feet.

  Tears prick at my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. The Rick guy grabs her by the arm, his thick fingers dig into her skin, and she cries out. He starts to drag her away, and my throat tightens when her eyes meet mine.