Devil's Pawn

by SE Chardou

  I stopped pacing and finally faced my uncle again. “Would it be all right if I . . . were to take a break? I don’t fully trust myself not to fuck up royally on the job. My head isn’t in the right place at the moment and I would hate to put anyone’s life at risk because I can’t do what I do best to the superior standard I’ve set for myself.”

  Angelo stood and walked over to me before he placed his hands on my shoulders. His imposing frame made me feel small and delicate despite the fact we both knew I was neither. I was an assassin, a murderer who killed on command, but my last job had me seriously doubting whether I was indeed cut out for this dangerous lifestyle after all.

  “You take all the time you need, bella. I trust you will have plenty to occupy your time between the planning of your wedding and working everything out with Max. Once you two bond again on an intimate level, he will soon forget all about his dead mother. You’re much more important to him than her, and he would never betray you. He’s too frightened of what Raymond and I could do to him if he did.”

  “But is that the best foundation to build a relationship upon? Fear? Uncle, I love that man. I know what he did to me and how he stood by and watched . . . all those years. He could have intervened but he had his reasons not to. We can’t understand what Dimitri must have been holding over his head—”

  “Bullshit, Magnolia. He allowed those animals to rape and humiliate you for more than half your life. You may be willing to forgive him but I won’t ever be able to extend him that same courtesy. Dimitri took my sister, the only person besides Rose I have loved unconditionally. She didn’t deserve what happened to her and Max is at the center of it all.

  “If you weren’t so in love with him, he would already be dead. Him and that son of a bitch’s daughter. That was always the plan until you threw a monkey wrench into everything and had to fall in love with the guy—your secret captor. Sometimes I wonder if you aren’t suffering from Stockholm syndrome. How could you care about someone who for years watched you with a detached apathy?”

  “I don’t know but I did—I do—and I can’t change the way I feel. Please respect my wishes, and do not interfere in our relationship again. I did what you wanted me to do—what I thought I wanted to do all these years and it’s caused me more suffering than fourteen years at the vile hands’ of Brad and Nel. I truly believed I knew what hell was but I’m in it . . . right now, suffering in vain over a murder that could possibly break my lover.”

  “You think too much. There is nothing that has transpired between the two of you a little lovin’ can’t resolve. We men are simple creatures, Mags. Mila didn’t know an ounce of kindness, not even to her own children. They won’t mourn her loss for long. They both know there isn’t much to feel about her, not when she destroyed everyone’s life she came in contact with.”

  As my uncle removed his hands from my shoulders, I couldn’t help replying, “Part of this is your fault too. If you hadn’t been fucking her and stringing her along, she would have never hatched that stupid plan against my mother. None of us are blameless except perhaps me. I didn’t do anything to cause my parents’ death but I paid the ultimate price. I will always be loyal to you and the Abandonato family but part of me still mourns for the life I could never have.”

  “Come, my darling. We must keep up appearances and share in this feeling of pity and concern over this whole situation. It’s only fair. What’s done is done.” We slowly strode toward the double doors to the study as Angelo continued, “In terms of my role in this whole sorry affair and how you blame me, well, I won’t judge you too harshly for feeling that way. We all make mistakes and that was one of many indiscretions I regret. I feel guilt about my part and that is why it was so hard for me to leave that cunt alive as long as I did. She knew where to hurt me where I was most vulnerable.”

  “I don’t understand.” My voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

  “Mila would have been better off killing the mother of my children. I would have mourned Rose’s passing but Sophia would have helped me get over it. I could have finally driven a wedge between your father—that bum she married—and had her relocate you and your future sibling here.”

  I stopped walking as my heart thundered in my chest. “Future . . . sibling? I don’t understand, Uncle.”

  Angelo turned toward me with shiny eyes, unshed tears that refused to fall. “Sophia was pregnant. Almost four months and with a son. So, you see, I want you to understand you shouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt for putting a bullet in that bitch’s brains. Not only did she cause the death of your mother and father but she also caused you to lose your younger brother. Poor little bastard didn’t stand a chance once they snuffed out her life.”

  The air left my lungs and I found it difficult to breathe.

  My mother was pregnant?

  Why was I only finding out about this now?

  And furthermore, why was a part of me still guilty over Mila’s death despite all the carnage she’d left in her wake?

  I innately understood I would never get my answers that night but eventually, I’d have to resolve them. If only to bring about a peace inside of me that had been missing since my trip to Miami.

  That night, after quiet tears from Max and hysterics from Karina, we left my uncle’s house in the cloak of darkness and returned to our home by the lake. I changed into a silk negligee and sat at the edge of the bed while I listened to the shower running from Max’s bathroom.

  He’d taken a shower before we left and a second one could only be attributed to the filth he must have felt from hearing about his mother’s death.

  A murder committed by my hands.

  Hands that would soothe him, and stroke his hair while I whispered into his ear how everything would eventually be okay and the pain wouldn’t last forever. Isn’t that what everyone does when they see someone they love in despair over a death in the family?

  Granted, I’d never have considered Mila family, and contempt blossomed in my heart at the mere thought of her, I genuinely wanted Max to be all right. He had to be; he was my rock, and if he faltered and began to doubt himself then we could no longer be the dynamic duo.

  I no longer pretended to even enjoy killing, if I ever did. It was merely an occupation I was good at therefore I didn’t lose much sleep behind what I chose as my professional career. However, Max brought out a joie de vivre with everything and although he didn’t make murder enjoyable for me, it was much less unpleasant with him by my side.

  And then there was the loose end left in Miami although I highly doubted he still was there. He’d probably left the city before I did.

  Fernando Navarro.

  No one knew about him, not even Vincent.

  I’d kept him as my own dirty little secret because he knew what I’d done and spared my life only because if the time came and a contract with his name came across my desk, I would spare him in kind.

  Honor amongst thieves and what not.

  I clutched my neck with a shaky hand and allowed a ragged breath past my slightly parted lips.

  The more I thought about my situation, and general predicament, the more fucked up I knew it was. There was too much that could go wrong. Too many people knew what really happened and how long would it take Max to figure it out? He wasn’t stupid and if he suspected I’d lied about being in New Orleans then he could easily jump to the conclusion I wasn’t nearly as innocent as he initially presumed.

  When he eventually found out, what would be my excuse? I would have to come up with a damn good one just to make sure he didn’t hurt me in any way, shape or form. If he laid a finger on me, that would be enough of an excuse for my uncle to end him. I wasn’t under any illusions Angelo wasn’t as deadly and dangerous now as he was from the moment he’d lost his sister—my mother. He secretly loathed Max and it wouldn’t take much for him to kill him just because he could.

  My thoughts consumed me so deeply and overwhelmingly, I didn’t realize my fiancé had walked into the room and
stood in front of me until he placed a warm hand under my chin. I met his eyes, those gorgeous blue-green orbs that still mesmerized and teased me to this very day. I could get lost in him with just one long, lingering look.

  “None of this is your fault, Mags. Shit happens and I don’t want you to feel guilty about anything. You know what it’s like to lose your parents and . . . I know I’m being selfish. I still have one remaining parent alive, even if it’s a father I don’t fucking know. You have no one. You don’t have to be the pillar of strength for me,” he explained in a quiet masculine voice.

  I bit by bottom lip. “I know but it’s not the same. My parents have been dead a very long time.”

  “And? My mother wasn’t fucking Saint Teresa.” He sat next to me on the bed. “She was an awful human being who lived by the sword and ultimately died by it too. There’s nothing . . . no one to mourn, not if I’m honest with myself. Hell, she was a shit mother too. I feel so unsettled because I really don’t have it in me to grieve for her and perhaps that’s what is so fucking depressing about this whole situation.”

  I glanced at him with nervous eyes—could he sense the burden I carried? “What do you want to do?”

  Max’s eyes were hooded and lust-filled. “What I always want to do when I see you. I want to fuck you hard and rough . . . and after I have given you multiple orgasms, I want to make love to you. Sex always makes the pain go away—or lack thereof in my case. I want to feel something but I want it to be about you, not that duplicitous, man-eating bitch.”

  There was something about the way he expressed his words that flipped a switch inside of me. I wanted him too. It seemed like it had been so long since we’d slept together although it’d been less than a week.

  I missed him so much; I craved his touch, even if it was rougher than usual. To be honest, I would have preferred him to treat me like a whore. It’d make me feel better about what I’d done to him. Surely he should have been allowed to remove me from my comfort zone and punish me in some way—even if it was through sex.

  “Then take me,” I whispered only loud enough for him to hear. “I want you to fuck me, baby.”

  He glanced in my direction before his arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled me toward him. I didn’t resist when his lips brushed against mine; my tongue darted into his mouth, and he took over, his tongue battling with my own. Max pushed me down on the bed and raised my negligee as I stripped the towel away from his lower body. His thick cock—angry, red and hard as a rock—against me, commanded my thighs to spread without another thought.

  As he climbed on top of my body while adjusting his arms to keep his full weight from being pressed on me, I grabbed his dick and stroked it, paying special attention to the tip where the Prince Albert piercing made it all the more sensitive. He sucked in a deep breath, his lips dangerously close to my earlobe, before he bit down on the sensitive flesh of my neck.

  A part of me reveled in his brutality because I needed him to make me ache and feel equal parts agony and ecstasy just to get through tonight. God knew if I thought I would have felt as bad or been hit as hard by murdering his crazy cunt of a mother, I’d rather the bitch lived and someone else have taken her out. God knew she’d made enough enemies between her husband’s actions and her own. The guilt behind my actions ate me alive with an overwhelming and insatiable hunger I couldn’t quell no matter how hard I tried.

  Demons were a powerful entity, especially when they were part of a past you would rather forget; I found myself in that strange place and I hated every moment of this hell I’d delivered myself into willingly.

  Why couldn’t I just let go? Would telling Max what I’d done be the only way to quiet them once and for all? It couldn’t change the act I’d committed but perhaps if he found it in his heart to forgive me, I would finally be able to forgive myself.

  Every coherent thought I possessed left my brain the moment my fiancé entered me with that beautiful male part of him, and owned me completely. I couldn’t gasp anything except the thought of his cock working its way inside of me until he was balls’ deep and I was filled to the brim.

  My whole body shuddered with the knowledge of his body working in complete conjunction with mine in a symphony only the two of us heard. There was a lot to be said when two people were so incredibly compatible with each other sexually, no words had to be exchanged.

  Max’s lips found mine again, and we kissed passionately, our tongues swirling around each other’s. I adored him so much and I knew he loved me too. We’d been through too much together to break the connection and the bond we shared therefore I couldn’t understand why I refused to tell him what I’d done.

  Rationalization was a powerful motivator but one that didn’t apply to me. If he ended my life, he was in fact ending his own. My uncle wouldn’t have it any other way. I was the last—and only—connection to his long dead half-sister. He’d murder Max without thinking too hard about it and never lose a minute of sleep over it.

  I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  He thrust inside of me with a mixture of aggression, anger and an urgent need to get off. We hadn’t been with each other in a while and for two people who enjoyed each other’s bodies almost daily, it was too long to wait for satisfaction. At this point, we were both pushing towards the end just to get off while avoiding the reason why we were in a hurry at all.

  Were we both starting to trust each other less, and was that the reason why we only thought about our own satisfaction and cared little about fulfilling something deeper inside one another? We both loved each other very much but our relationship had reached a strange impasse where something would have to give if we were going to survive a lifetime together.

  I realized then I never had a choice. If I didn’t tell him then I would ultimately build our fragile relationship on a house of cards that could crumble at any given time. I wouldn’t live a lie—I couldn’t. I needed to tell him if only to prove that we were more than just sex. We weren’t just two animalistic beings who murdered for a living and were sociopathic in nature.

  I had to prove we were human; we needed to express our emotions, and I realized I was ready to deal with his wrath if need be to live with the truth. To me, it was worth it—there was no other alternative.

  Max came inside me with a final thrust, and his physical essence flowed from him to me before he stilled as a low guttural moan left his throat. I wrapped my arms around his neck, unafraid of the fact that I had received little pleasure from our coupling. In the end, it wasn’t even about sexual satisfaction. I merely wanted to be close enough to him for us to feel like a bonafide couple.

  Reality was a bitch sometimes; it wasn’t humanly possible to orgasm on demand. Not when my mind was going a million miles per minute and I couldn’t even begin to concentrate on my own satisfaction when there was the bigger picture to consider.

  My whole life was at stake and there would be no way in hell I could allow my life to crumble around me. Max and I had been through too much, and we shared a connection that could never be unbroken. The bridge that held us together was the truth and I had to honor that if I didn’t want to suffer from a nervous breakdown.

  I breathed deeply before Max kissed me passionately, and I surrendered to the feelings between us. A sob waited to escape my lips but I buried it deeply and enjoyed the feel of his skin as he kissed my neck. His mouth sunk lower until his kissed rained down on my breasts and his fingers toyed with my hard nipples.

  The moment his mouth descended on one of my nipples, I arched my back in ecstasy. One of the most sensitive parts of my body was being toyed with between his teeth and I moaned out loud. His lips were like heaven against my body and I seemed to lose all sense of time and reality as they worked lower and lower. Past my belly button and between my parted thighs where his hands and fingers took over. He parted my vaginal lips without shame and began to devour my clit; his juices and mine mixed together.

  My hips rose to meet the deep-seated need for
him to get me off. Closeness be damned, I still wanted pleasure from what we’d done together and he’d gotten his so it was high time I got mine too. I could admit to being more than a little selfish and wanting to receive pleasure just as well. I wasn’t a complete martyr.

  As his tongue stroked my clit and toyed with it, several of his fingers curled inside of me and massaged my G-spot. I knew I was close to the apex and soon, he would send me over the edge. My moans became louder and more guttural as I imagined him devouring me whole, taking from me what he needed to feel after such a devastating loss.

  If I could bring back his mother, God knows I would if just to give him a semblance of peace. He deserved more than me and what I’d taken away couldn’t be replaced—not even with a child. One life couldn’t be traded for another and I was fool to think it would be so easy to follow through with my plans not expecting any sort of impunity. I loved Max and part of me wanted him to have a sliver of happiness even if it would never be available to me.

  What I’d done was reckless and selfish; based upon the advice of my uncle who, himself, was a cold-blooded killer. A part of him had died the night my mother’s life ended and if I’d known anything about human nature, I should have taken that into consideration.

  But not now as pleasure cascaded over my body in waves so real and powerful, my brain ceased to think about anything else. I was a vessel of pleasure and relished in the emotions my lover could make me feel with a kiss, caress or the power of his tongue pleasuring my most intimate parts.

  The feeling alone almost broke me apart but as I came down from my mountainous highs, it was his kisses and caresses that gently put me back together again. I couldn’t lie to him anymore. To do so would damage all trust between us, and after being without a partner for so long, I couldn’t allow that to happen.