“W-what?” I asked him, my body shaking again, but this time in confusion. “What’s that?”
“The bullet, Lucy,” he groaned. “I never put it in. I had to make them think I did, make you think I did, so we wouldn’t get fucking busted. I would never do that, Lucy. Never play a game with you, do you understand? I’d never fucking hurt you like that, babydoll. Never.”
His words felt soothing and I let myself burst out in tears. He held my shaking, crying mess of a body until my tears dried up and my cries turned into laughter.
I laughed like a lunatic, loud, boisterous laughter. I threw my head back, pushing my tits against Beau and making him look down. And then he started laughing too.
“You little crazy bitch,” he said, reaching between my tits, down into my corset. “Crazy fucking girl.”
He brought out several cards I’d stuffed down my tits in order to get him better ones. They fluttered from his fingers, hitting the ground in a flurry of spades and aces.
“I wanted you to win,” I muttered, and he kissed the top of my head fiercely.
“Thank you, babydoll,” he said, his voice heavy. “You didn’t have to do that. You know you could have gotten hurt if those men caught you?”
I grinned wide. “I was careful.”
“Well,” Beau went on. “I’m glad to say our little fieldtrip seems to have been worth it. We got Grigori’s digits.”
He flashed me a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it, and explained Sandro had slipped it inside his palm just before we left, telling Beau the Georgian could get him into bigger and better games to play for even more money. I had no doubt there was more to it, and they were trying to take advantage of my man, but I knew he was too smart for them.
“Thank you for–” I started, but my words were cut off by a shrill scream coming from the wooden building.
And then there were gunshots, and even more screaming.
So. Much. Fucking. Screaming.
Beau tackled me to the ground when the building behind us erupted into flames. An explosion went off and I screamed. My heart pounded in my chest as Beau dragged me to my feet again, with burning wood and glass shards flying everywhere. One of them hit my arm and I hissed when the jagged edge cut into my skin.
“We have to go,” Beau barked, and half-walked, half-dragged me towards the side alley. I heard police sirens in the distance.
We found our car in one piece, which was a fucking miracle given the neighborhood we were in. Beau stashed me inside and my whole body shook as he started the engine and drove out of there like a madman.
“What the hell?” I screeched. “What happened back there? What happened, Beau?”
He looked in the rearview mirror and kept driving, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles whitened and his jaw set in a chiseled line.
“Someone was targeting them,” he said simply. “Someone went in there and blew shit up. It’s a good thing we got out when we did. We could both be dead right now. Is your seatbelt on?”
I stared in front of me, through the windshield, without feeling a single thing.
“Lucy!” Beau barked at me. “Is your fucking seatbelt on?”
“Yes,” I sniped back. “It’s on, okay! What are you, my fucking father?”
The horrible edge of my words hung between us like a knife poised to slice. I burst into tears the next second, hot, confused tears that ran down my cheeks, fucking up my makeup. I hated myself for being so vulnerable and for letting Beau and the situation get to me. I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve handled all of it better, but instead I was just a hot mess.
“I’ll never be like your father, Lucy,” Beau replied stiffly, his eyes focused on the road as he drove us towards our destination. Hopefully home, because I couldn’t handle any more fucking drama that day.
“I know,” I whispered, giving him a fearful look. “I know you could never be like that, Beau.”
“You better remember it,” he added, and I nodded, more to myself than anyone else. “We’re going home now. Don’t mention this to anyone, you got that?”
“I won’t,” I replied softly, and we spent the rest of the drive in absolute silence. We were almost at our destination when Beau spoke up again.
“You acted like a kid today,” he said roughly. “How old are you, Lucy?”
“Eighteen,” I replied. “I just turned eighteen. A few days before I came to your place.”
He gripped the steering wheel even more tightly.
“Do you know how old I am?” he asked me roughly, and I shrugged, glancing at him.
“Maybe thirty?” I asked, and he groaned out loud.
“I’m thirty-four, Lucy. Practically twice your age. I could be your fucking father.”
“Well, you’re fucking not,” I said, getting annoyed with the conversation.
He didn’t say another word as he pulled into the garage underneath his building. He turned the engine off and we sat in the darkness for what felt like ages, with me sneaking glances at Beau who was running his hands through his dark mop of hair.
“This isn’t right,” he finally said. “You… you’re too young for me, Lucy.”
“I’m only a couple of years younger than my sister!” I argued, and he turned to look at me with an expression so heated it made me scared.
“You’re a fucking kid,” he said roughly. “You’re a kid, Lucy! Don’t even try to fucking deny it.”
“I’m not even…” My words hung in the air, leaving me unsure how to finish my sentence. Finally, I let out a frustrated sigh and opened the car door with all the rage I could muster after the evening we’d had. “You know what? Fucking forget it, Beau. I don’t have to explain anything to you!”
I stormed out of the car, slamming the door so hard the sound echoed in the empty garage. I tried to storm off, but before I could make it more than a few steps, a hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled me closer, his mouth inches away from mine, his breath hot on my lips. Beau wasn’t happy, and he looked like he was about to bite me he was so angry.
“You don’t know anything,” he barked at me. “You don’t know shit, little Lucy. Little liar. Little fucking whore.”
His insults felt cutting, and I glared at him as he pulled me into his arms. But I didn’t resist. I could never resist him.
“You’re a fucking child,” he went on. “And I hate myself for doing this.”
And then he crashed his mouth against mine, and my body melted as he claimed it, his tongue fucking me like it was all there was left to do in the world. He licked me, bit my lip, sucked it and made it better. He made me whimper into his mouth until I was nothing but a helpless heap of trembling muscles and nerves. He had that effect on me, and he sure as hell knew when and how to use it.
He let go of me and my mouth let out a sound so desperate I blushed when he grabbed me by my hair and pulled my head back.
“Come on, we’re going upstairs,” he told me roughly, and I meekly followed him towards the elevator that would take us to his penthouse apartment.
“Beau?” I asked softly once we were in there, his arm possessively wrapped around my waist, and my own holding my hurt arm.
“Yes?” he asked. I could tell he was distracted. What had happened back there had been awful, there was no way of getting around it. I couldn’t believe we’d gotten out of that damn building in one piece. “What is it, babydoll?”
“I want to know,” I said softly, and his eyes turned to mine. I looked down, blushing deeply as I admitted what I wanted to know, the image of his scars so fresh in my mind.
“I want to know what happened to you.”
15 Beau
I led Lucy up to my apartment without saying a word. She didn’t even look at me, just let me take her hand. I held on tight and waited until we were inside before I remembered the cut on her arm, which was staining her outfit and dripping blood to the floor.
“We have to get that taken care of,” I muttere
d.
Again, she didn’t respond. I led her into the kitchen and smacked her ass, and she jumped up on the counter. I dug around in the medicine cabinet for some gauze and disinfectant, and she parted her legs so I could stand between them. Lucy’s eyes were wide, but she didn’t make a peep as I disinfected her cut, even though I knew it must’ve stung. I cleaned out the wound and wrapped it in gauze, making sure to keep it covered well.
“I’ll have to check it daily to make sure it’s healing well,” I told her.
Finally, Lucy looked at me. Those big beautiful eyes followed me around as I took care of the supplies and put them away. She wanted answers, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to explain just yet. The tension in the room was palpable, and I found myself desperate to tell her the truth. I wanted her to know. I wanted her to find out the whole story. But where the fuck was I supposed to begin?
“Start at the beginning,” Lucy whispered, and my eyes snapped to her. She was looking at me, her palms between her legs on the marble counter, her eyes dancing over my scarred features. For the past few days, my girl had managed to make me forget about them. But now I was more painfully aware of the scars than ever.
“Just tell me,” she said. “I just want to know. I won’t judge, whatever happened.”
Judge. What a fucking funny way to put things.
“Her name was Alessia,” I said gently, and saw Lucy’s whole body tighten when she realized I really would tell her the story. “I fell in love with her when I saw her in handcuffs.”
I was a newbie. I was a criminal defense attorney, just fresh out of law school. I’d gotten good grades and I had a job lined up the second I got out. But I wasn’t a genius, and I wasn’t top of my class. The job I got offered was mediocre in terms of payment, and in terms of the cases I was supposed to work. But I was happy with it. I was perfectly ready to climb my way up the ladder.
I made a promise to myself the day I decided to become a criminal defense attorney.
I promised myself I would only defend people I honestly believed were innocent.
So, I got assigned this case. A woman, in her twenties, barely as old as I was. We were both so fucking young. Too young to understand everything that was going to happen between us.
Her name was Alessia Rossi. She was fucking beautiful. The first time I saw her, I knew I was in trouble.
They led her towards me in handcuffs. I’d been worrying the whole day about being assigned her case, because I knew I couldn’t defend her if I didn’t truly believe she was innocent. I’d made up an image of this woman in my head. I pictured her small, curvy. Fashionable haircut and red lips, a cigarette dangling from them. She was accused of killing her lover. I was told she was a prostitute. I imagined her as a lewd stereotype, and I didn’t even realize the woman being led towards me was her until her eyes snapped up.
Dark brown eyes, just like mine used to be. Hair that fell down her shoulders in thick black curls. She didn’t wear any makeup, of course. She was small indeed, and curvy too. A beautiful figure that made me tighten my grip on the suitcase between my legs. She looked so fucking young. She looked like a child in that room, and I wondered how anyone could possibly think she was guilty of taking down a 200-pound man and stabbing him repeatedly. I didn’t buy it for a single second.
I knew she was innocent before she sat down in the chair in front of me and started to cry. She raised her handcuffed hands to her pretty face and tried to wipe away the tears.
“Miss Rossi,” I said uncomfortably. “I am your attorney. You have to be perfectly honest with me and always tell me the truth, and I will do whatever is in my power to ensure your safety.”
“I didn’t do it,” she whispered. Her voice was heavily accented in Italian. She looked very small and vulnerable sitting there, and I felt my cock twitch guiltily as I stared at her. “Do you believe me?”
She stared at me with those beautiful eyes, and reached across the table. I stared at her outstretched hands. Her skin was tanned, the lines of her palms prominent. Her hands looked like she knew what it was like to use them for work. I looked right into her eyes and answered her honestly.
“Yes.”
Her eyes brightened and she smiled at me. A smile that lit up my fucking world.
And then she started to explain what had happened.
As she spoke, I stopped calling her miss, and started calling her Alessia. She still addressed me as Mr. Wolfe, but I could see there was something going on there. Something neither of us could really influence, an attraction growing out of nothing, or maybe out of the desperate situation at hand. I wanted to help her. I wanted to make sure she got the fuck out, because the more I found out, the stronger my belief in her innocence became.
Alessia came to the city only a couple of months earlier. She’d been lured there with promises of working as a dancer and entertainer. On her first night in a shitty, cramped apartment, she came to realize what those promises really meant as a man who she’d met online raped her virginity away from her.
She was never paid, not once.
She was forced to sleep with men for money that never crossed her hands. Forced to be whored out by the man she’d trusted implicitly, a family friend she wanted to please. Her family back in her own country was huge, and depended on the cash the man claimed he sent them every month. She didn’t dare explain to her parents what was really going on. And she was caught in this endless fucking circle of being hurt and feeling like she owed it to her family to see it through.
The man she worked for was a fucking monster. She told me all about him.
But nothing could have prepared me for the moment he strolled into our first meeting, grinning wide and saying he’d come to visit Alessia.
She started crying at the sight of him, and I got up from my chair, instinctively knowing who he was even though he hadn’t introduced himself.
“You need to leave, now,” I barked at him. “I’m Miss Rossi’s attorney and I don’t think you should be here.”
The man approached me. He was taller than me, with grayish-white hair and a beard. He grinned at me like I was nothing but a speck of dust he could clean off with a flick of his fingers.
“We will speak soon,” he told me simply. “But first, I’d like to speak to my girl. My Alessia.”
He turned back to face her, and she melted into her seat. The guards made way for him, lenient like they’d never been with him. I watched this stranger, this sick fuck, whisper to the girl I’d already started to see as mine, and my body raged. I wanted to kill him. But instead I had to stand back like a fucking jackass and wait until he was done with whatever the hell he was whispering in her ear.
When he retreated, a brilliant smile was on his face, and Alessia was looking at him adoringly.
“I’ll speak to you now,” he told me with a wide grin. “Step outside with me, Mr….”
“Wolfe,” I barked.
The man stepped up to me, grinning so fucking wide. He reached for my lapels and pulled them up, laughing in my face.
“Don’t look like much of a wolf to me,” he smiled. I wanted to fucking kill him.
Instead, I followed him out of that interrogation room, my eyes on Alessia. She was sobbing softly, her eyes never leaving the man.
We stopped in the hallway, and now his friendly smile was nowhere to be seen.
“That girl is guilty,” he told me, and I gave him a blank stare.
At that point, Alessia hadn’t explained what had happened yet. But I knew this guy was full of shit.
“She’s not,” I said simply. “Alessia could never take down a man twice her weight, and she wouldn’t kill someone.”
“Oh, so you know her now?” The man laughed out loud. “Trust me, boy. Stay out of it. She’s guilty, and you will let her be sentenced as such if you know what’s good for you. Got it?”
“What?” I stared at him, completely shocked by the way he was acting. “I can’t let an innocent woman go to jail.”
&nbs
p; “You can do as you’re told though, can’t you?” the man laughed, slapping my cheek like I was his kid brother. “There’s a prize in it for you, boy. Just do. As. You’re. Fucking. Told.”
“I can’t let it happen,” I said shakily. “She didn’t do anything. One look is enough to know she isn’t guilty!”
“That’s not for you to decide,” the man said. “She’s going to jail. Do you understand?”
He took a step closer to me, and suddenly I felt intimidated. He wasn’t just much bigger and stronger. The thing that scared me the most was the way he looked at me. So fucking coolly, like I was nothing but an obstacle he could get rid of any moment he wanted to. Like he didn’t give a shit what he had to ruin, what lives he had to end, to get what he fucking wanted.
“I asked you if you understood,” he said, and I stared into his cold eyes. “I could make your life a world of trouble if you don’t agree to do as you’re told.”
“I’m going to do what’s right,” I replied simply, and he laughed in my face.
“You sure you want to start a war, boy?” he asked roughly.
I didn’t reply, just kept staring at him.
“Alright,” he replied with a brilliant smile. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
With those ominous words, he walked away from me and I went back inside the interrogation room where Alessia was waiting for me. I tried to calm her down, but the second the man was gone, her story started to change. On some level, that jackass had made her believe she was at fault for what had happened to the dead man.
I finally found out what really happened that night. That Alessia had been forced to sleep with a man when he drank down a glass of champagne she’d poured for him. He fell to the ground and had a horrible attack that ended with blood spilling from his lips and mixing with his saliva. And then, just like that, he was gone.
Alessia told me in a shaky, soft voice that she didn’t do it. As if she was worried the man from earlier was listening from behind the door.
Envy: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Empire Sin) Page 12
