Violent Beginnings : A Dark Enemies To Lovers Mafia Romance

by J. L. Beck

  He needs to think that I’m under his spell, willing to do anything he wants. I tap my fingers idly against the counter. I’m not sure how many days have passed since the auction, but this is taking longer than expected. How can I speed up the process? I don’t have the time it would take to convince him that everything is good, that I’m worthy of his trust.

  I need to get into contact with them now. To let them know I’m still alive and need more time. How I’m going to do that is beyond me. I haven’t seen a phone inside this house, and Markus’s cell has a six-number code on it. All I have is their phone number, which they made me memorize while they held me in that awful cell.

  Markus looks up from the laptop and right at me, and my heart clenches in my chest. I feel guilty all of a sudden and for no reason. I haven’t done anything. Yet.

  I know what has to be done, but doing so will ruin everything. We’ve got into a pleasant rhythm with no fighting, and I almost feel bad doing something, knowing that I’m tossing all that effort out the window. Everything seems normal, and I’m going to destroy it all, but I have no other choice. I have to make that call soon.

  “Bring me a glass of water,” Markus orders, his deep voice startling me.

  I jump at the sound, and the tea in my hand sloshes out the side of the cup and onto the counter. Damnit. I’m basically giving myself away here.

  Deep breaths.

  Swallowing down my anxiety, I go to the cupboard, get out a glass, and fill it with water. I squeeze the glass hard, trying to stop my hand from trembling as I walk over to the table and hand him the cup.

  He takes it and blinks slowly, watching me. His fingers graze mine, and I shiver at the contact.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” I blurt out.

  “Okay…” his gaze narrows, “then go.”

  I scurry across the living space and into the bathroom. I don’t even have to go pee, but I need to get away. I need a breather, even if it’s just for a moment.

  I take a few minutes to collect myself before I exit and return to the kitchen.

  “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting weird,” Markus points out, having my nerves right back where they were ten minutes ago.

  “I just don’t feel well,” I lie, “I think I’m about to get my period.”

  Markus makes a weird face as if periods are the last thing he wants to talk about. Typical guy. At least he seems to believe me.

  “Are you ready to go to bed?”

  “Yes. I know it’s early. You don’t have to come with me. Or I can just lie down on the couch for now.”

  “It’s fine. We’ll go.” Picking up the glass of water, he chugs the last bit and gets up. Shutting his laptop, he grabs it and heads for the stairs. I follow close behind, feeling both grateful and nervous about another day coming to an end.

  “Wait here,” Markus orders when we reach the bedroom door.

  I stop in my tracks and watch him curiously.

  Markus continues walking down the hall and opens a door. He disappears inside what I’ve assumed was another bedroom until now. When he reappears, the laptop he was carrying is gone.

  “What’s that room?” I ask before I can stop myself. To my surprise, he actually answers me.

  “My office.”

  I nod and follow him to the bed. We both strip down to our underwear. I stopped wearing pajamas a few days ago at Markus’s request, or should I say order. Either way, I don’t mind since I prefer sleeping naked, anyway.

  Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I hold out my hands for him to tie them together, but he stuns me yet again when he shakes his head.

  “Just lie down. Your wrists and ankles are red. I’ll give you a break tonight.”

  I stare down at my wrists in shock. Yes, my skin has been angry and red looking lately, but I’m still not convinced that this is the only reason. Is he testing me?

  “Okay.”

  We both crawl into bed and under the blanket. As we assume our normal positions, my mind is reeling. I can’t figure out if this is a test or if he is starting to trust me. His arm snakes around my body, and I bury my face into his chest.

  I let his words run through my mind again… I’ll give you a break tonight. Does that mean he’ll tie me up again tomorrow? If so, that means tonight will be my only chance to try to find a phone. Maybe there is one in the office.

  Just one quick call. That’s all I need.

  Closing my eyes, I try to even out my breathing without actually falling asleep, and then I wait. I wait for what feels like two hours until my eyes start to droop, and I can’t keep myself awake any longer. Only then, when I am certain Markus is asleep, his breathing evening and his body unmoving, do I move. Slowly… so very, very slowly, I scoot away from him.

  With every inch I put between us, my heart slams against my ribcage faster and faster. I’m so scared, terrified of what may happen, what he will do to me if he discovers I’m no longer beside him in the bed.

  Everything inside me says to stop, to lie back down, and cuddle back into his chest, but I can’t. I have to do this. I have to take this chance. I’ve already taken long enough, another day without letting them know I’m still here and alive.

  When I’m finally out of bed, I feel cold, and it’s not just the loss of body heat. It’s not the fact that I’m standing here in nothing but my panties, my bare feet on the cool wood.

  It’s knowing that if he catches me, whatever we had developing between us will be gone.

  That kind of coldness is much worse than the physical one. It’s the kind of cold that you feel in your bones and deep in your gut. The kind that you know can freeze your soul to death.

  Forcing my feet to move toward the door, every step feels like a step toward death. The door creaks a tiny bit as I open it, and of course, it sounds like a marching band in my head. I stop for a minute, making sure the sound doesn’t wake him.

  When the room remains silent, and Markus’s large body unmoving, I continue.

  I step out of the room, tiptoe down the hallway, and come to a halt in front of the office door. Reaching for the doorknob, I wrap my fingers around it and turn. The door pushes open with ease, but my stomach is in knots.

  Panic builds, gripping me by the throat. In this instance, I cannot think about the consequences if Markus were to catch me.

  I need to do this. I need to make that call.

  I will never forgive myself if I don’t.

  18

  Markus

  Fallon has been acting off all day, and I can almost guarantee she is up to something. I caught her glancing at the office door like it holds the holy grail inside. She doesn’t think I saw her, but I did. I caught the slight flicker of interest in her eyes.

  I knew she was going to try. I knew it the moment I let her crawl into bed without tying her up. And still, as I feel her inching away from me slowly and slipping out of the bed, disappointment settles deep into my bones.

  I wish she wouldn’t do this. I wish she would have just stayed in bed with me. Obviously, she needs a reminder of where we stand; she needs to see what happens when you betray me. I’ve made myself clear in every instance.

  My disappointment bleeds into anger with every second that ticks by. I stare at the mattress, at the spot beside me that she should be sleeping in. I’m pissed that I was starting to trust her. Then the moment I give her a slice of freedom, she does this.

  I climb out of bed slowly and walk to the door. Pushing the bedroom door open, I walk out into the hall. On nimble feet or as nimble as a six-foot-two, two-hundred-fifty-pound man can be, I approach the office door. It’s closed just as I left it, giving away no signs of change, but I know better. I know she is in there.

  Preparing to burst through the door, I grab the handle and turn it, only to realize it’s locked. My anger intensifies by a million.

  “Open the fucking door, Fallon!” I growl, beating my fist against the wood.

  The door rattles against my closed fist, and m
y patience is withering away with every second that passes. She betrayed me, took my trust, and threw it back in my face. Taking a step back, I look at the door, which still isn’t unlocked.

  “Fallon. Open the door, or I’ll open it myself,” I warn.

  “Just… I’m sorry…” I hear her say, but they’re not the words I want to hear, and the damn door is still locked. Anger surges through my veins, and I see red.

  Lifting my foot, I kick the door in. The wood splinters, and the lock snaps, sending the door into the room and against the wall.

  Chest heaving, I stalk forward. What I see pushes me over the edge. I knew she came in here for something, but part of me didn’t think she would have the balls to do anything. But somehow, here she is with the phone in her hand.

  Her skin pales, and terror erupts in her eyes.

  She looks afraid, and she should be. The things I want to do to her right now. They would make her run away screaming.

  “You really shouldn’t have done that.” I’m close to losing it, and I’m not sure what would happen if I did. I need to put her in the basement to get her out of my sight.

  “I’m sorry…” her plump lips tremble, “I was calling my parents. I wanted to tell them I was okay…” She is lying, I can tell right away. I’ve done enough interrogations to tell the difference, and Fallon is a shitty liar.

  I clench and unclench my hands a few times, feeling the need to release the aggression out on something, anything. One hit is all it would take for me to hurt Fallon. I could bring her unimaginable pain, force her to tell me who she was really going to call, but physically inflicting pain on her isn’t something I can bear, and that only makes me angrier.

  “Do not lie to me. I’m not stupid. This was a test, and you fucking failed it.” Stalking forward, I grab the phone out of her hand and toss it down on the desk. I’m not sure if she succeeded in making the call, but it doesn’t matter.

  She won’t get another chance to escape me.

  “I just wanted to call my parents,” she repeats once more.

  Tears shimmer in her blue eyes, but she doesn’t realize that her tears only enrage me more. I want them gone, to squish them beneath my thumbs. Paying her pity act no attention, I grab her by the arm and tug her forward. Her legs wobble, and she nearly trips over her own feet.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to believe that you were calling your parents. I’m not stupid, Fallon.” I pull her forward, crushing my chest against hers. I should fuck her right now, right here against the wall, fuck her until she begs me to stop until she can no longer stand, and I have to hold her body up for her. Until my cum is leaking out of her and down onto the floor.

  I should punish her with my cock, but I can’t trust myself not to take it further, so instead, I’ll punish her by leaving her alone in the cold basement. She’ll have all the time in the world to think about what she did, and I’ll have time to calm the fuck down.

  “I told you not to try to leave. I told you, you are mine and will remain here until I say so. I warned you, Fallon. I warned you!”

  Tightening my grip, I drag her behind me and head for the basement.

  “Please, Markus… I’m sorry. You have to believe me. I wasn’t trying to leave. I wasn’t…” Stopping dead in my tracks, I release my hand on her wrist and grab her by the hair. My fingers thread into her soft locks, and she lets a soft whimper slip past her lips when I crane her head back and force her gaze to mine.

  “I don’t want to hear your excuses,” I snarl. “You betrayed me. I don’t care what you planned to do. You shouldn’t have been doing it, to begin with. Now, shut your fucking mouth before I find a better job for it besides talking.”

  Her eyes are filled with fear and disappointment. I’m just not sure if it’s herself or me she is disappointed in.

  I release her hair, grab hold of her arm once more, and continue our walk down to the basement. The basement temperature is about ten degrees lower than upstairs and will make for a very uncomfortable situation.

  She’ll remain alive, but she’ll be exhausted and cold by the time her punishment is done.

  Opening the cell door, I shove her inside and release her arm. She stumbles backward on unsteady feet, catching herself before she can fall. I grit my teeth and clench my fist, digging my nails into my palm to stop myself from reaching out to steady her.

  I shouldn’t want to help her.

  Shouldn’t want to protect her. She broke my trust; she did this to herself, yet I still want to help her. No. I won’t be made a fool of.

  “Welcome to your new home,” I sneer.

  “Please, Markus.” She peers up at me, her eyelashes fan against her cheeks, and I can barely make out her features in the darkness.

  However, what I can see makes me sick to my stomach. I swallow down the protectiveness that starts to build up at the fear and anxiety overtaking her features. I’m showing her exactly who I’ve been all along. The only difference is she’s seeing me for that person for the first time tonight.

  No. No! She will not control the situation. She will pay for breaking my trust.

  “Shut your mouth,” I roar.

  She flinches as if my words have physically smacked her, and I need to get away. Leave this room before I do something I can’t take back, or worse, before I take her into my arms and run back up the stairs.

  Turning on my heels, I walk toward the door. I’ve made it all of two feet before she starts to sob. The sound makes my ears ring. She’s openly crying, allowing me to see how weak she is. Does she not realize how stupid that is?

  “Please, turn the light on!” She lets out a strangled sob.

  The fear in her voice reaches out and grabs me by the balls. Fuck. I look at the light switch, stare at it, and then another sob fills the room.

  “Please, Markus! Please, don’t leave me in the dark. I’ll do anything.” I hear tiny feet shuffling over the floor and twist around to see that she is now a few feet away.

  She risks getting close to me when she knows how angry I am with her? Does she have a death wish? The way she is looking at me right now. It makes me want to reach out and take her into my arms. Don’t. She deserves this. I remind myself.

  “Don’t do this to me, please. I can’t handle the dark.”

  Her pleads hit me right in the chest, and I can’t ignore them. I flick the light switch on and walk out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me. I lock it and stomp up the steps angrily. Even though I can no longer hear her cries, I know she is crying. Her heart-shaped face stricken with fear and the tears in her eyes…

  Stop! I force myself to stop thinking about her and walk to the alcohol cabinet in the living room. I don’t bother grabbing a glass and instead grab the bottle. It won’t be a glass night tonight. Twisting the cap off, I bring the bottle to my lips and take a long pull from it.

  The whiskey burns all the way down my throat, leaving a path of fiery hell in its wake. I take the bottle and myself over to the couch and sag down on it. I take another drink, and another, wondering if I’ll have to drink this whole thing before I can stop thinking about her.

  I don’t know why I’m so angry over her breaking my trust. I should’ve expected it, but I was stupid. I stupidly wanted her to stand by me, to be loyal because she wanted to be, that she maybe wanted whatever was taking place between us. I wanted her to want me. In the end, all it did was make me look like a fool. I won’t be as stupid next time. I won’t fall for her lies.

  Shaking my head, I take another drink. My throat is numb, and my insides are warm now. The world around me is swimming, and I wonder how much time has passed. Then I hear it—the ringing of my cell phone from upstairs.

  Like a newborn calf, I push off the couch on unsteady legs and nearly eat the floor a few times. I almost chuckle to myself as I walk upstairs with the bottle in my hand. By the time I reach my phone, it’s no longer ringing.

  Grabbing the device off the nightstand, I see that I’ve missed a call from
Lucca. My anger is immediately redirected at him.

  What the fuck has he been doing?

  I enter my code and call him back. Taking another gulp of bourbon, I put the phone on speaker and listen to it ring.

  “Hey,” Lucca coolly answers.

  “What the fuck, dickhead? What took you so long to return my text and calls? You ask me to do you a favor, and then I don’t hear from you again?”

  “Whoa, calm down. There was an accident at the mansion the other day. Elena got hurt, and Julian has everyone working night and day to find her father.”

  A tinge of guilt develops but doesn’t latch on. I do feel a little bad for leaving Julian, but I haven’t taken so much as a day off since I started working for his family when I was sixteen-years-old. I deserve this, even if it’s not a typical thing to do when working for the mob.

  “Oh, well, a text message wouldn’t have hurt,” I grumble and take another drink.

  Lucca chuckles. “You sound like a clingy girlfriend.”

  “You sound like a stupid fuck,” I retort, and my words slur a bit. Obviously, the alcohol is catching up with me. My eyes dart to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Just a little after ten. I feel so fucking old, and drunk. What’s the next step, the nursing home?

  “Are you drinking?”

  “Yeah, what’s it to you?”

  “Not a damn thing. Wish I could have a drink myself, but I’ve got to stay on my toes. Julian would have my head on a platter if I got drunk.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t be doing anything to piss him off. You don’t want to see him when he loses his fucking mind. It turns into a bloodbath real fast.”

  “Right. I called because I wanted to see if I could come by the cabin in the next few days and talk. It’s something I can’t really speak about over the phone.”

  I blink slowly. “Is it about her? The underage girl? This better not be what I think it is.”

  “She’s sixteen, Markus, and it’s not like that. I’m not a fucking creep. I’m not going to fuck her. Even if she was twenty, I wouldn’t touch her.” I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince himself or me, but it’s not working. I see right through his fucking lies.