Cruel King: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Jillian Quinn

  I’d filled Nicole in about my crazy father and less than normal life at school. That was why she went out on a limb to help Stephan and me. It was so embarrassing to have another person know about my shitty life, but I was determined to keep my new friend. I didn’t want her to be taken from me, too.

  Nicole slipped my phone into her purse. “I’ll text Stephan when I’m on my way over.”

  I thanked her one last time, and then I left the store with Stephan. We walked down Broadway, breaking through the crowd passing by to hail a cab. A car pulled up to the curb next to us, and Stephan opened the door for me.

  “The Met, please,” I said to the driver.

  Stephan got in next to me, and within seconds, we were flying down Broadway, driven by an insane cabbie.

  “Thank you.” I squeezed Stephan’s hand and smiled. “I can’t believe you brought Nicole into this.”

  “She was more than happy to do it. You’re the only person at Walcott Prep who was nice to her.”

  “I like her. She’s nice and funny. I just hope my dad doesn’t try to scare her away like he does to everyone I get close to.”

  “He couldn’t scare me away if he tried.”

  I laid my head on his shoulder, cocooned in his warmth. “I hope not. I like you too much to lose you.”

  “Are you kidding?” He played with one of my curls, twirling it around his finger. “I remember the first time I saw you. You were the prettiest girl in school. You still are. It was in first grade, on the first day of class. Your hair was in pigtails, tied up with pink ribbons. I couldn’t stop staring at you. Even back then, it was like I’d been struck by lightning. There was always something between us that drew me to you.”

  Italians had an expression about real love feeling like a lightning bolt struck you. Was Stephan telling me that he loved me? My heart swelled with so many emotions I covered it with my hand and sighed.

  “I remember that day, too,” I admitted. “You got into trouble for yelling across the room at Victor Delmont.”

  “That’s because he was acting like a little bitch and crying for his mom.”

  I laughed, my fingers gripping his shirt. He smelled of clean linen and the manly spiciness of his aftershave. “You were always so tough. Nothing ever bothered you. So many people at Walcott are afraid of you.”

  “But not you,” he growled. “At least not anymore.”

  “I was never scared of you, Stephan. More like what my father could do to you and what he will do to you and your family if he finds out we were together.”

  “He’s all talk.”

  I peeked my head up to look at him. “No, he’s not. My dad doesn’t hand out empty threats. He follows through on every one. Never underestimate him. I learned that lesson a long time ago.”

  “My dad is a powerful man. I’m not worried.” Stephan released my hair to place his hand on my shoulder. “Today is about you, my raven-haired girl. Even if it’s only for a few hours, forget about your dad and all of his rules and focus on us.”

  The way he said us sent a ripple of happiness through me. It was temporary. I was too much of a cynic to believe in fairytale endings. But I wanted to believe for that day I could have one with Stephan.

  Chapter Five

  Stephan

  Isabella molded her body to mine, her head on my shoulder and fingers tugging at the fabric of my dress shirt. She was so relaxed, more comfortable than I’d ever seen her on our ride to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I wanted to take her away from the city and never look back. But I knew her father had more power than mine, even if I’d never admitted it to her.

  I felt sorry for Isabella, and I hated that I did. Her life was miserable, every part of it orchestrated by her father. He would have killed me for even speaking to her. The same fate would have fallen on Nicole for arranging our date.

  When we arrived at the Met, Isabella sat up and smiled when she saw the massive building. It was the largest art museum in the United States, spanning four city blocks.

  “I love it here,” she confessed. “Carmella used to come here with me when I was younger.”

  It was sad her fond memory of the museum was with a woman paid to care for her. My family ran criminal organizations, and even I had childhood memories with my parents and brothers. I wanted to give Isabella the life she deserved… if only that were possible.

  I slipped my fingers between hers and led her up the stairs. Once we were inside, Isabella’s entire face illuminated, a giddy smile crossed her lips.

  “I like seeing you like this,” I admitted. “You don’t smile often enough.”

  She laughed. “Says the boy who walks around school with a permanent scowl.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Isabella rolled her eyes at me, biting her bottom lip. “Maybe not when you look at me, but you do with everyone else. You always look pissed off. Nino never does. That’s how I was able to tell you two apart when we were kids. It’s still how.”

  Nino and I were identical twins, with very few differences in our appearance. I had a little more muscle and one inch on him, but our personalities were the only thing which set us apart. My brother was the “nice one.” And by Isabella’s standards, I guess that made me the mean twin. That was fine by me. I preferred people’s fear over love. It was a more powerful motivator in business.

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “I am.” She shoved her elbow into my arm and winked at me. “But you’re not so scary right now. This is the most I’ve ever seen you smile.” She flashed a wide grin up at me, my expression mirroring hers. “I like it.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t go for Nino instead of me if I’m such an asshole.”

  She shook her head, staring up at the impressive architecture. The ceilings were high, the space overwhelmingly large and open. Isabella was entranced by the museum, captivated by its beauty, as much as I was with hers.

  “Nino never looked at me the way you do.”

  “How do I look at you?”

  “Like you understand me.” She shrugged, nonchalant. “I’m not sure how else to explain it. It’s as if you see me in ways no one else does.”

  “I do. I’ve always seen you. You’ve made it hard for me not to.”

  After I paid for our tickets, Isabella clutched hers in her free hand, studying every word. “At least I’ll have something to remind me this day was real.”

  “This doesn’t have to be the only time.”

  She sighed. “I don’t get many days like this. Once my dad finds out I met Nicole, he’ll go digging into her past and find some way to keep her away from me. He always does.”

  “Try not to think about anything other than being here with me.”

  She squeezed my hand. “You’re a good distraction.”

  “I can be even more distracting.” I winked at her, and her mouth widened even more. “Where do you want to start? This place is huge. I have no idea where to go.”

  “Have you ever been here?”

  “For that class trip we took in sixth grade.”

  She gave me a surprised look. “I can’t believe you’ve only been here once.”

  “My parents aren’t like yours. They’re rich but not very cultured.”

  “Art isn’t for everyone. To each their own, right?” She tugged on my hand, steering me in the direction she wanted. “Let’s start in Greek and Roman art and work our way through each exhibit.”

  “Lead the way.”

  For an hour, I listened as Isabella spoke about each sculpture and painting, admiring her innocence. She was so pure and beautiful, a delicate flower. I want to pluck each of her petals, peel back the layers of her exterior until I’d broken down all of her walls. We were taking a huge risk being seen in public together. Anyone could have spotted us, which seemed to make Isabella a little paranoid. Every time I noticed her unease, I held her closer, comforted her in any way I could.

  Between exhibits, I pulled her to the side and pushed her back t
o the cold wall, stealing a kiss when no one was around. Her lips parted for mine, her fingers tugging at the buttons of my shirt. I consumed her, devoured her with each flick of my tongue. She moaned when my hand fell to her hip, my mouth silencing her soft whimper.

  Our lips separated when we heard shoes hitting the tiled floor, drawing closer to us.

  I moved my hand from her waist to the wall and stood at her side. “Do you want to get out of here?”

  “Yes.” Her chest rose and fell with each breath she took. “Please. Take me somewhere more private.” She barely got the words out, before I was navigating through the museum in a hurry.

  “We have an hour left until we have to get back,” I told her. “Nicole texted me. She’s going to stay at Strand. My family has an apartment around the corner if you want to go there.”

  Her eyes lit up with excitement, but she didn’t speak.

  Our kiss left us both wanting more. All I could think of was tearing her clothes from her beautiful body. After I tasted her in the gymnasium and knew what sounds she made when she came, I had to have her again. She was an itch I needed to scratch, an addiction I couldn’t kick. I knew the risk we were both taking and didn’t care. It was worth it.

  But our plans came crashing down the instant we stepped outside. Two men in suits, with their arms folded across their chests, were waiting out front of the museum for Isabella. They each had Bluetooth devices in their ears to communicate with whoever was on the other end of this intrusion. Most likely it was Senator Parisi.

  “Miss Parisi, we need you to come with us,” a blond man said to her, holding out his arm to gesture that she should get inside the limousine parked at the curb.

  Nicole poked her head out, the top half of her face visible from the rolled down window.

  “No,” Isabella shot back. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Your friend is waiting,” the dark-haired man chimed. “We have direct orders from Senator Parisi to bring you home.”

  The smile, which was once plastered on her face, vanished in an instant. I knew her life was rough, but I had no idea how bad it was for her. Less than two hours after we’d met at Strand, she was already being summoned back to Parisi Manor. My father was controlling, forced me to stay away from the Parisi family, but I never listened or cared. He would never embarrass me the way Isabella’s father did to her.

  Her fingers slipped from mine, a painful look spread across her beautiful face. She turned to face me and sighed. “I’m sorry, Stephan. It was fun while it lasted.”

  I didn’t care about her bodyguards, who stared at me with venomous looks as I planted a kiss on her cheek. Her teeth grazed her bottom lip, and my cock hardened from her simple but sexy gesture.

  “I’ll see you at school,” I said, as she was pulled away from me.

  She nodded, unsure if there was any truth in my statement. “I hope so.”

  Then, she was gone, and I was left feeling responsible for whatever happened next.

  Monday had come and gone with no sign of Isabella at Walcott Prep. A few more days had passed where she still hadn’t come to school. I felt guilty. Because of me, her father was punishing her. A week later, the whispers started, the hallways buzzing with gossip about Isabella.

  I stopped her friend, Nicole, who was waiting in line to order food, and pulled her to the side. “Are the rumors true about Isabella?”

  She frowned, the sadness in her eyes telling me the answer. “Yes. Her dad sent her to a boarding school in Connecticut. She called me last night from her new roommate’s cell phone.”

  “Why would he do that? We graduate in six months.”

  Nicole stared up at me and sighed. “I feel terrible about all this. If I didn’t help you…” she sighed, her voice trailed off before she finished the sentence. “It wasn’t just that day. Her dad found out about the necklace you gave her. He spoke to someone at Tiffany’s and dug around to find out who they made it for.”

  “That’s private,” I shot back, pissed with the wrong person. My body trembled from the anger coursing through my veins, the adrenaline making me feel more alive. “They’re not allowed to reveal a client’s personal information.”

  She clutched the books in her hand to her chest. “Well, they told her dad, and he flipped out when he found out it was from you.”

  Irritated, I ran a hand through my hair, and then shoved my hands in my pockets. “Can you get a message to her?”

  She bit her lip, nervous. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t want to get her in trouble. What do you want me to say?”

  I turned my head, my eyes falling to the floor as I thought it over. “Never mind. Don’t tell her anything. Forget we had this conversation.”

  “What conversation?”

  I winked at her and then walked away to find my brother. He was waiting for me along with my teammates at our usual table in the cafeteria.

  “You moving on to the new girl already?” Nino joked, nudging me in the side as I settled into my seat.

  I laughed. “Nah, I’m good. She’s yours.”

  “I don’t mind sharing.” He shrugged and then stuffed a French fry into his mouth, staring across the room at Nicole.

  He waved her over to our table.

  The only girl I wanted I couldn’t have. I wasn’t ready to start a war. Not yet, anyway. Isabella was my Helen of Troy, and I would have burned down the world to get to her. But I had to be patient.

  PART TWO

  Five Years Later

  Chapter Six

  Stephan

  Leaning against the brick wall, on the other side of the Italian bakery, I waited for my brother to finish making the collections. Isabella was home from college after disappearing from Long Island for close to five years. She was across the street from me, out front of the nail salon, with her long, black hair over one shoulder, blowing on her hands to dry the polish. Her lips were full, colored the same shade of red as her nails.

  I tilted my head to the side to take in the length of her body, recalling each of her curves from memory. She scanned her surroundings as if she was waiting for someone, and then our eyes met. I burned a hole through her with my intense gaze, unable to look away, even though I’d been caught staring. She stared at me with equal intensity.

  Isabella was beautiful, different from the women in my life who were so eager to please. But we never had the chance to become anything more, all because I made one mistake that set a chain of events into motion. We both knew the rules—stay away from each other. I didn’t want Senator Parisi to steal Isabella from me again. So, I admired her from a distance, same as I’d done for years.

  When my dad said the name Robert Parisi, it was as if the name burned his tongue. They exchanged the usual pleasantries to keep our family out of jail. My dad even contributed to her father’s re-election campaign. But my father’s message was loud and clear over the years. Knowing I couldn’t have Isabella only made me want her more. It was like when my mother told me I couldn’t eat bread before dinner, so I would sneak into the kitchen and steal a slice from the loaf just because I wasn’t allowed to do it.

  Nino walked up to me and stuffed the money he’d collected in my hand, diverting my attention. “That’s our last one,” he told me. “All set.”

  I shoved the thick stack of envelopes into my pocket and glanced over my shoulder. We could never be too careful. “Did anyone give you trouble?”

  He shook his head, his dark hair falling in front of the same deep blue eyes as mine. “Piece of cake. Everyone knows the drill. The second I walked through the door, they were handing over envelopes full of cash. It’s almost too easy anymore.”

  I nodded. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

  “You think Dad will let me get in on the action this weekend?”

  I glanced at Nino, confused. “The card game? That’s for high rollers.”

  “He put you in charge of the game. You get to make the rules.”

  “It’s not that si
mple. There’s a structure to Dad’s game. You can’t just throw down fifty grand and get a seat at the table.”

  “I’m good for it.”

  I laughed. “Be serious. You don’t have that kind of cash. Not unless you stole it from Dad.”

  “Says you,” he shot back. “What do you know, Stephan?”

  “I know you couldn’t come up with the money by Saturday night, not unless you plan to knock off a bank before then.”

  “I’ve been saving up.”

  “Leave it, okay? Don’t waste your money. You couldn’t handle some of these whales. They have more money than they know what to do with, and they don’t mind spending it. You would miss that kind of money. These degenerates could care less.”

  New York’s wealthiest men drove to Long Island once a month for the card game my father had run since I was in diapers. An invite from him meant you were protected, part of the inner circle. We didn’t let anyone with money into our lives. The men were handpicked, vetted before they could get anywhere near us. Senators, big shot lawyers, Wall Street bankers, moguls, and even celebrities were some of the players at our games.

  “Just give me a chance,” he protested. “I can hang with these guys.”

  “No, not gonna happen. We already have enough people at the table.”

  “But…” his voice trailed off when I held out my hand to silence him.

  “No buts. You can come and watch, but you’re not getting in on the action.”

  He blew out a puff of air, annoyed with me. I didn’t give a shit if he was pissed with me or not. My decision was final. My brother had a gambling problem, and I did my best to keep him from getting himself in too deep with the wrong people. The DeLuca name could only get him so far. Our father could only call in so many favors before Nino had to get his act together.