A Dangerous and Cruel Love (Dark Mafia Romance Duet, #2)

by Tee, Marian

  One day, he would find it in himself to be glad that he had done the right thing.

  One day, he would be able to breathe without thinking of her.

  One fucking day.

  But until then—-

  He would continue to pretend.

  Because pretensions made the world go round.

  When Grant Bennett contacted him, a month had already passed without the prince remembering a single fucking day. The text message the younger man had sent him was irritatingly cryptic, and for one moment he was tempted to ignore it altogether.

  Showing it to Noah and Igor, he asked flatly, “What do you think of it?”

  I have an important thing to talk about, and you’ll regret it if you don’t come.

  “I don’t believe the boy has the guts to threaten you,” Noah said finally. “But I also don’t see any harm in meeting with him.”

  Igor nodded. “I don’t see any mention of you having to come alone either, so that makes it even less of a threat.”

  The prince slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Neither of you see this as possibly affecting our timetable?”

  Both men shook their heads.

  “I’ll take your advice then. The two of you stay here and make sure Beatrice Crichton is never alone.”

  The drive back to Christopoulos University was swift, but every second of it chipped away at the prince’s armor, and by the time he reached the university’s standalone library, tension had made him stiff and grim-faced, and it didn’t help when the skies turned overcast in a blink.

  Rain started to fall, and one of his bodyguards rushed to him, handing the prince an umbrella. Nodding his thanks, he stood outside the library and waited for Grant Bennett to show up.

  An entire half hour passed, and yet the prince remained where he was.

  A sardonic smile touched his lips.

  You can’t fucking fool yourself, Reid Chalkias.

  From the very start, he knew this was a setup, knew from the very start that Grant Bennett had no intention to show up. But he had come anyway because it had given him an alibi.

  A reason to go to a place where he might see her—-

  And finally, he did see her.

  Well played, Bennett.

  The prince watched Fawn step out of the school building across the street, hair swept up in a ponytail and her curves hidden under a loose black dress.

  He watched her hungrily, obsessively-—

  Whatever Bennett’s ulterior motive was for making the prince see her again, it didn’t fucking matter.

  What mattered was that he was able to see her again one last time.

  One last time, he promised himself doggedly, and then he would really stay away from her for good, let her live in peace without murderous threats hanging over her head for each and every damn day of her life.

  One last time.

  The prince was about to turn away when he saw Fawn slowly but steadily walk down the building’s front steps, leaving the roofed area.

  Rain slashed down on her, and still she continued to walk.

  What the hell?

  She began walking away, heading to where he knew her dorm building was, and for one moment the prince could only stare in complete incomprehension.

  Did she fucking plan to walk all the way to her place in the rain?

  When it looked like she was going to do just that, the prince didn’t even think—-

  He broke into a run, and even with water splashing under his pounding footsteps, Fawn didn’t look up, and her pace didn’t falter.

  The prince reached her, blocking her way, and as he held his umbrella over her, he demanded furiously, “Are you an idiot?” He watched Fawn lift her head ever so slowly.

  Oh God.

  Brown eyes made dull by too much pain gazed up at him.

  “Prince?”

  He whitened.

  “Is it r-really you?”

  Her voice broke, and so did he.

  The umbrella fell to the ground as the prince hauled her into his arms.

  She started to cry. “I knew you’d come back.”

  “You’re an idiot, a goddamn idiot.” But his voice shook, and he couldn’t stop himself from tightening his arms around her. “Forget me, angel, please.”

  She cried harder, sobbing, “My n-new name.”

  Ah.

  He knew exactly what she meant.

  “You r-remember?”

  In the aftermath of making love, Fawn, lying on top of him, had whispered sleepily, “You need to give me another name.”

  “Another name?” He had been bemused.

  “Because I’m not a virgin anymore.”

  Ah. He had kissed the top of her head, murmuring, “I’ll need time to think about it.”

  Her head had jerked up, and she had looked wide-awake when she echoed him. “Time?”

  Frowning at her reaction, he had said warily, “Yes, I need time.”

  “Even though it’s a simple thing?”

  “It’s not a simple thing,” he had rejected, his frown darkening.

  Her lips had formed a bright smile. “Then it means Igor was right.”

  “About what?”

  “That I’m your special lady.”

  His eyes squeezed shut.

  He remembered.

  He remembered like it happened a fucking second ago.

  Because he remembered everything about them.

  When he opened his eyes, he saw her staring up at him with terrified brown eyes, and it was so damn obvious that he only had to say one cruel word and she would shatter.

  Because he mattered that much to her, and she wasn’t even pretending it wasn’t true.

  “You’re really an idiot,” he said tightly.

  Didn’t she know pretensions were what made the world go round?

  She raised her hand up. “Do you see?”

  He shook his head.

  “T-the ring.”

  Ah.

  Her voice rose a little. “I’m s-still engaged. Grant s-said it’s okay. I’m still w-with him, so please, please take me back—-”

  Rain mingled with the tears that fell on her face.

  “Please, baby—-”

  God.

  He cupped her face, saying hoarsely, “Angel—-”

  She shook her head wildly. “Please—-”

  Unable to bear the torment on her face, the prince covered her mouth with his.

  From a distance, high-powered lens zoomed in, and a photo was taken, capturing the moment of bleakness that crossed the prince’s face just before he kissed Fawn for the first time.

  ****

  When the kiss ended, Fawn’s knees gave out, and the prince swept her up in his arms. She clung to him, teeth chattering as rain continued to ravage their surroundings. Inside the limousine, she only waited for the door to close before reaching for his pants—-

  “Angel—-”

  She shook her head while frantically fumbling with the zipper. No words. Words only always got in the way between them. When she managed to free his cock from its confines, the prince groaned—-

  She straddled him.

  His hands clutched her waist. “Angel—-”

  “Please,” she begged him.

  He started to push her away.

  Out of desperation, she fused her mouth with his.

  The prince shuddered under her.

  She kissed him harder, her tongue mating with his, and she felt his hands start to move.

  A sound ripped in the air as the prince tore her panties away, and she muffled a cry of relief against his lips.

  He took over then, and she was glad to let him, her body molding to his command.

  The prince lifted her up, moved her dress out of the way, and then pulled her back down, impaling her with his cock.

  A cry escaped her at the bittersweet beauty of his possession, and then they were rocking against each other, the prince thrusting hard in and out of her. They made furious love with each
other, over and over, and when they reached the prince’s home, she could no longer keep her eyes open, exhaustion and sleepless nights finally catching up with her.

  But when she woke up, the prince still wasn’t beside her.

  A sign of heartbreak that was to come—-

  But a sign that she chose to ignore.

  Because that was how the heart survived.

  Memories mocked her as she made her way down the winding stairs, teasing her of the times she had stolen glances of the prince even when she had thought he was evil incarnate. She reached the living room, remembered the numerous times she had swept the place clean like a real-life Cinderella, and the prince remained out of her reach.

  Such sweet memories, and yet they had been unable to protect her.

  Her legs trembled as she made her way down the hallway leading to the prince’s study, and panic seized her by the throat when she began to hear familiar voices.

  So many signs—-

  So many signs—-

  But still, she chose to ignore all of them.

  Still, she chose to hope.

  Because he had come back to her, and that had to mean something.

  It had to.

  Stopping in front of the door to the prince’s study, she heard Igor say, “Ms. Crichton has reached Isola L’Eternita, sir.”

  Fawn tensed in surprise. She hadn’t expected Beatrice Crichton to leave the prince’s compound, considering that a man was dead set on killing her.

  “Please inform Jason Christakos about this and call our contacts in Sicily. I want her heavily guarded. We require her testimony once Davos is tried for his crimes.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Both men’s voices became muffled, and she pressed her ear to the door.

  “Are you truly sending her away?”

  Her heart squeezed, and she strained harder to listen to the two.

  “She is not of our world, Igor. You know that.”

  “What I do know, sir, is that she is for you.”

  “For me?” The prince’s voice lowered into a nearly inaudible murmur, and Fawn could no longer hear what he had to say until his voice started to rise again in a furious hiss. “And yet you say someone like her...a goddamn living angel...is for me?”

  More words being exchanged, but none of which she could hear, and unable to stop herself, she started to turn the knob, just in time to hear the prince snarl, “She’s engaged.”

  Fawn flinched.

  “Have you forgotten that fact?” Something shattered against the wall, and she heard the prince grit out, “She’s not for me—-”

  This time, she couldn’t stop herself and she threw the door open. “I want to be yours.” Wrenching Grant’s engagement ring off her finger, she threw it away in vain hope that finally the prince would understand what she knew would never change.

  She needed him.

  She loved him.

  She chose him.

  “I want to be yours,” Fawn whispered. “So please, please don’t make me leave you.”

  The prince motioned for Igor to leave them.

  And when they were alone—-

  The bleakness in his gaze made Fawn fall to her knees.

  So many stupid signs now—-

  So many of them, they were impossible to count.

  And still, she held on to hope.

  She held on.

  The prince knelt in front of her, saying quietly, “You know, you understand now, don’t you?”

  She nodded, saying between compressed lips, “Davos.” She raised her eyes to his. “But I don’t care—-”

  “My life is not for you,” the prince said gently.

  She grabbed his hand when he started to stand up, crying out, “Didn’t you hear me? I don’t care.”

  “But I do. I care just enough for you, and that’s why I can’t and won’t ever love you.” His strength defeated hers, and he was able to peel her fingers away from him.

  She stared up at him as he slid gracefully to his feet, and oh, wasn’t that a sign, too?

  That he could move with such grace while she couldn’t even remember how to crawl?

  “I’ll be leaving town to ensure Beatrice Crichton is out of harm’s way.”

  “Take me with you.” She reached for him, but the prince stepped back, and she fell flat on her face, cutting her lip.

  Graceful.

  Graceless.

  Someone who loved against someone who didn’t love.

  Humiliation curled in the pit of her stomach, and when it became obvious the prince wouldn’t even help her up, she forced herself to move, managing to get on her knees—-

  Only for her to see him walk away from her.

  Again.

  Oh God.

  How many times did this man have to walk away—-

  Before he realized it wouldn’t make her feelings change?

  “Prince, please.”

  The prince halted by the doorway, and without looking back, he said quietly, “For your sake, you must learn to forget me.”

  A hopeless cry escaped her. “I can’t.”

  “Then that’s a pity...because I can forget you.”

  ****

  Life went on.

  Grant had transferred to another university. Nick and Jason Christakos had taken their stand in court, and major networks began to cover the trial as twist after explosive twist began to unfold.

  A full month passed, and yet she continued to love him.

  Night after night, she would wonder why she couldn’t make herself stop, and only one answer made sense.

  She couldn’t stop loving him because a part of her believed the prince also loved her back.

  It was that simple.

  It was that impossible.

  More days passed, and Fawn was beginning to feel paranoid. Someone seemed to be following her wherever she went, as if biding his time before making his move.

  Which is stupid, she told herself. Keeping her out of trouble was why the prince had left her in the first place.

  She had to be imagining things.

  That was the only explanation—-

  Until the day she was about to leave the bookstore and she received a text from an unregistered number.

  Don’t act like you’re shocked. There’s a guy in a gray shirt outside the store, and he’s Davos’ man. Don’t let him know you’re on to him. There’s a van across the street. Get in that.

  Fawn’s fingers tightened around her phone.

  Right.

  Don’t look shocked.

  How could she do that when she was actually shocked?

  Fawn took a deep breath, telling herself it was time to prove to the Prince of Darkness that she could do what was needed in order to remain by his side.

  Pushing the door open, she stepped out of the bookstore and in the corner of her eye, she saw the man in gray straighten.

  Please God.

  She started to cross the street.

  The man started to follow.

  She tried to walk just a bit faster, and when the man started to quicken his steps as well, panic gripped her as she remembered all the evil things that the Greek tycoon was capable of.

  Beatrice Crichton beaten to an inch of her life—-

  Nick Christakos raped—-

  Keanne Summer almost kidnapped—-

  Fawn broke into a run.

  The back doors of the van flung open, and a woman reached out to her, crying out, “Come quickly!”

  Oh, thank God!

  As she reached for the woman’s hand, she heard the man behind her shout anxiously, “Angel!”

  What?

  Fawn’s head snapped back, unable to believe she had heard the man use the prince’s name for her. At the same time, the other woman hauled her inside while her companion jumped out, pointing a gun straight at the other guy.

  A shot rang out.

  Fawn screamed.

  The last thing she saw just before the killer pulled the doors of
the van shut was the man in gray falling to the ground.

  The woman in front of her clucked her lips. “You probably know by now, but just in case shock’s stopped your brain from working – that man we shot was your security from Reid Chalkias.” Crazy black eyes laughed at her. “And I’m Tic Tac Toe, the person Davos hired to play with you.”

  ****

  When the private jet owned by the prince’s family landed in Miami, the prince immediately received word that Igor, who had flown in a few days earlier, wished to come aboard.

  Sensing that something was amiss, the prince gave his permission and remained in the jet, waiting for his right-hand man to join him.

  “Anything wrong?” Payton Malcolm asked grimly as he came to stand beside his son.

  “I’m not certain,” the prince said reluctantly.

  When Igor was aboard, the prince only had to take one look at the older man’s face—-

  “No.”

  The prince staggered back.

  “What’s wrong?” Payton swiftly caught hold of his son’s shoulders just as his wife rose out of her seat and rushed to the prince’s side.

  Seeing the way her son’s face had whitened, Enid demanded anxiously of Igor, “What is it?”

  “It’s a...friend of your son, milady.” Igor’s face was stoic, but his voice was heavy and strained. “She’s been abducted.”

  The prince sucked in his breath.

  Abducted.

  He strove for calm, knowing that he would be of no use to Fawn if he went berserk.

  “The GPS trackers?” he heard himself ask. The day Fawn had become his lover, the prince had several secretly installed on her belongings: one on her phone, another on her engagement ring, her favorite school bag, her favorite shoes – all the things that she frequently used.

  “We’ve already started tracking.”

  “Good.” He swallowed. “Everything should proceed as planned.”

  A moment of silence, and then Igor asked tensely, “Even the parties, sir?”

  “Even the parties.” The prince nodded jerkily. “Everything should proceed as planned.” The parties, the women, all of it had been planned to make Abraxas Davos think twice about his involvement in Beatrice Crichton’s disappearance—-

  And now he had another reason to do them.

  “Hire all the women you can for tonight. I want to make it seem like I’m partying so fucking hard they won’t be able to reach me—-” His lips twisted. “As long as they’re unable to tell me she’s under threat, they won’t have any choice but to keep her alive.”