Beautiful Tyrant (Enemies to Lovers - Dark Romance Book 3)

by C. P. Mandara

  BEAUTIFUL TYRANT

  by

  C. P. MANDARA

  Published by Chimera Books

  This work is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. The author asserts that all characters depicted in this work of fiction are eighteen years of age or older, and that all characters and situations are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright © C. P. Mandara. The right of C. P. Mandara to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This novel is fiction - in real life practice safe sex.

  Harper

  Brandt and Gabriel have me tied down on the bed. While Mal points a gun at them they're going to mess with me a little. Gabriel looks almost gleeful at the prospect, Brandt not so much. It's too bad. He might as well get his kicks in where he can.

  After Mal's finished with them, hopefully he'll find something unpleasant for them to do. He always needs a patsy to murder someone or other. My fingers are crossed that the pair can find an opportunity to run and get the hell out of this mess. That's what I'd do if I had the chance.

  Unfortunately for me, my last few days are to be spent at Mal's warehouse. The Airfix King is about to take his superglue addiction out on me, before he chops me up into little pieces and leaves me for dead. This is probably not the time to wish I'd killed myself earlier, right?

  Everything you've ever wanted is on the other side of fear. George Addair

  Chapter One - Harper

  I want to cry.

  'Get back on the bed, darling.'

  Fear crawls up my spine. It feels like a million termites have decided to use my body as their last meal. Something is eating me alive from the inside out, and all that's left for me to do is scream. This can't be happening. This is happening. My world is spinning out of control, like a supercell tornado lashing at me with lightning and hail. This is going to be a pivotal moment in my life, and I need to figure out my next move quickly. The trouble is, I am paralysed. I know everything is going down the pan and no matter which way I turn the outcome will be the same.

  Mal's eyes are eating my naked body up, while his goons point their guns at me. I am helpless. What should I do?

  'Get back on the bed, darling,' Mal repeats, with a vicious edge to his voice. Shit. Move, Harper, move. On feet that are about as stable as a new-born lamb's, I stumble over to the bed and almost fall onto it headfirst. Please don't kill Brandt. The words are stumbling over and over in my head, but there is no way I'll ever voice them out loud. If Mal knew what Brandt meant to me he'd be dead in an instant. While he thinks of me as nothing more than a possession, he doesn't want any competition for my attention. He made that very clear with Alex, which is why my late husband is now residing under six feet of particularly wet and squelchy mud. It says something that I consider him the lucky one.

  The trouble is, Mal is one of those people who likes to play with his food before he eats it. The tube of glue is still spinning around in his hand, and he's looking at me expectantly, with one eyebrow raised. That eyebrow says something along the lines of 'Do you want to do this the easy way, or the hard way?' I already know he'd prefer it if I took the latter option, but I'm not that brave. There'll be plenty of time for the Airfix King to have his fun with me later. Brandt doesn't need to see that. I'm kind of hoping that when death comes, it will be just me and Mal, but that's not very likely. He likes it when people watch. I know this from experience. I think it turns him on in some other-worldly, freakish way. Whoever gets to watch my death is going to need a strong stomach. He's going to pull out all the stops when he begins work on me. He's already told me so.

  'Well, what are you waiting for, gentlemen? Go fuck her up a little.' Mal ushers Brandt and Gabriel towards me, and the pair give each other a look, as if to say, what the hell? Some of what I've told them about Mal must have stuck, though, because they don't push their luck. They begin moving towards me.

  Gabriel is stumbling slightly, due to the gunshot wound, but by the looks of it the thing is superficial. That's not to say Mal hasn't taken a decent chunk out of his leg, but I can tell, just from looking, that it hasn't severed cartilage or bone. The bullet was a warning. I begin to wonder whether Mal's planned this little scenario from the start. It wouldn't surprise me.

  When Gabriel gets to the bed his eyes shoot daggers. He thinks I've sold them down the river, when the exact opposite is true. I'm trying to save them both, but he doesn't know me well enough to realise it.

  Moving towards me menacingly, he says, 'I can't wait to get started on you, princess.' That should put the fear of God into me, but I have bigger things to worry about. I need to get these two out of here. Nothing that Gabriel dishes out will compare with what Mal's going to do to me later.

  'Shut up,' growls Brandt through clenched teeth, and gives him a look that could kill lesser mortals. Gabriel pauses on his journey towards me and his head tilts sideways. He's wondering what's going on. At least he thinks on his feet. At the moment he'll just assume Brandt is protecting me, when he gets close enough I'll help fill in the blanks. For now, he can hate me all he likes. It will play right into Mal's hands.

  'What do you want us to do to her?' Gabriel's voice is vicious as he directs the sentence back towards Mal. It appears he's a bit ticked off about either his near miss with a bullet, or my apparent disregard for his safety.

  Mal shrugs his shoulders. 'Whatever you like, just make sure it's entertaining or I'll shoot you both, and I won't miss this time.'

  Great. No pressure then, I think wryly. The next hour or two of my life is sure to be hell on wheels.

  'Can we tie her up?' Gabriel asks, running a hand through his hair as his abs ripple in the dawn light filtering through the window. His macabre tattoo's look utterly spectacular in every way that counts, and the effect is enhanced by the cruel frown that goes from one side of his face to the other.

  'You can do whatever the fuck you like to her, now stop pissing around and get on with it.' Mal was never known for his patience. The guys had better get on with it or he will kill them. Thankfully, Gabriel gets the message.

  Grabbing the handcuffs from the bedside table he spins me over and shoves his knee into my back, so he can keep me still while fastening the cuffs around my wrists. I have a serious case of déjà vu right now. It only seems like seconds ago since he got the cable ties out.

  Turning to Brandt, Gabriel goes straight for the jugular. 'Do you have a whip around here? Something that'll do a fair amount of damage?' Twisting my head around to watch Brandt's response, I see his eyes flare in horror.

  'Hey, the man said to fuck her up; I'm just following orders,' Gabriel says, with a smile upon that beautiful, twisted face of his.

  Brandt's fingers clench into fists. 'Gabriel, the woman is mine to torment, not...'

  'Children, children; I didn't ask for a discussion,' Mal barks. 'Get the fuck on with it before I whip you both.' He's losing patience.

  Brandt pays no attention, however. He grabs Gabriel's arm with a death grip to make sure he can't go anywhere. It's the wrong move.

  'Just do it,' I hiss. 'Get the whip. I've had worse. Now go get it quickly before he makes an example of you. The man isn't kidding around.' These two idiots are going to get themselves killed. />
  Brandt still doesn't let go of Gabriel's arm, and Mal's had enough waiting around. Advancing towards us he lets loose his fist, and it flies straight into Brandt's nose, which is still bleeding from the last encounter. Brandt lets out a whoosh of air and staggers back, reeling from the force of the impact.

  'Up against the wall, pretty boy,' Mal sneers. 'It's time someone taught you a lesson.' Mal doesn't give Brandt the chance to obey because he's already gripped the hair on top of his head and is dragging him forward. Oh fuck, no. I can't watch this.

  Slamming Brandt into the wall face-first, Mal barks, 'Arms up, over your head!' Brandt obeys him woodenly, which is just as well because I really can't deal with anyone else getting shot.

  Mal spins around and looks at Gabriel. 'You,' he growls, 'go get me a whip and make it snappy.' He clicks his fingers, which is Mal speak for it had better be done in three seconds flat or you're dead.

  Gabriel, unfortunately, has no idea where Brandt keeps his toys and looks at me helplessly.

  'Top drawer,' I whisper. 'Get it now.'

  The man jumps off the bed as if fifty hell hounds are on his tail. To be fair, he's not wrong. Yanking the drawer open, he rifles through the contents and finally pulls out a short-tailed whip. It's made of braided red and black leather. I can tell, just by looking, that it will hurt like a bastard. Gabriel then turns his head to glare at me. He is not pleased. While he'd have been more than happy to whip the shit out of me, he doesn't want to hurt Brandt; it won't do much for his reconciliation plans, that's for sure.

  'Give him twenty lashes and don't hold back. If you haven't drawn blood by that point, you're next.' Mal motions for Gabriel to get busy. I don't think I can watch. Mal wants to see if I'm affected by this, and I can't be. I have to be indifferent. If he knows how much Brandt means to me, Brandt's life expectancy will evaporate quicker than a teardrop on a hot summer's day. I need to make it clear I could not care less about his fate - even though I'd rather pull out my fingernails one by one than watch this horror story unfold.

  ''Arper, you watchin' this, babe?' Mal comes to stand behind me, and runs his fingers all over my bruised and battered backside. I know what's coming next, and sure enough his fingernails dig into the raw flesh, pressing so hard it's all I can do not to yell out loud.

  When I get my voice back, I say, 'Wouldn't miss it for the world, darling. Do I get a go, or is this game just for boys?' It's the only way I can think of to make sure Mal knows I don't give a crap about him. All other roads lead to bullets.

  'Why you fucking bitch,' hisses Gabriel, but Mal's hand waving a gun about silences him.

  Angling his head, as if surprised, Mal says, 'You hate him that much, huh?' He's thinking. He's wondering whether he wants to watch me whip the crap out of Brandt. This is the deal I made with the devil, so I have to accept the consequences if I'm called out on it. If I am, I'm in trouble. Hurting Brandt will be more than my already battered conscience can cope with.

  'He's kept me locked in a freezing cold cell, naked and leashed to the wall for the last couple of days. He would have kept me down here for five years, if you hadn't come for me, so yeah, he's not my favourite person right now. I'd happily lay into him, given half a chance.' I give Mal what I pray is a hopeful look. My acting skills aren't bad, and they improved no end after marrying Alex, but I'm under a considerable amount of pressure. I just have to hope Mal believes me.

  His fingers keep tapping as he searches my eyes, looking for lies, but I don't move a muscle or bat an eyelash. He knows every single tell, and I'm not going to give him anything bar a sly little smile. He can make what he wants of that.

  Eventually he reaches a decision. This is going to go one of two ways, and I'm about to find out which.

  'And here I thought you liked the guy. Don't tell me you've fallen out with pretty boy? It would be a shame, as you're going to fuck him in a few minutes' time.' Mal is once again amused, and this is almost a relief. If he's being kept entertained, he's having fun, and he won't be shooting anyone.

  'Don't make me do this,' I whine petulantly. 'Uncuff me and let me have that whip. I want to get my own back.' I hope I'm not laying it on too thick. If I am he'll get suspicious.

  He seems to believe me. In fact, he almost seems pleased. 'My precious little darling is an evil monster at heart, huh? We're a match made in heaven, darlin'.' I almost roll my eyes but stop myself just in time. There's no heaven on earth that's going to accept Mal into its pearly gates, and I don't think I'm up for any saint of the year award, either.

  When the silence stretches between us I raise my eyebrows in question. Gabriel then blurts out an expletive and rushes towards me, but Mal grabs him and shoves the butt of his gun under his chin. All the guards rush forward and there's the awful clicking noise of several safety's being removed. The room is now as quiet as a thief in a bubble wrap factory.

  'You want me to pop another one into you?' Mal drawls. 'Do you need a bit of longer-lasting, more permanent damage this time?' Gabriel shakes his head, but there's a tick in his jaw that says he's mightily pissed at the moment. I know he's itching to let loose the power of his body, but he's not stupid. He knows that means certain death. For the moment he'll have to play nicely. He can plan his revenge later - if he's not dead.

  When Mal presses the gun further into his throat, Gabriel finally shakes his head.

  'Then get the fuck over there and start ripping into your buddy. Make sure you put some effort into it, too. If you don't do the job properly, I'll demonstrate how it's done.' Shoving Gabriel away Mal keeps his gun trained on him as he waits to see if he'll obey. It's do or die. The poor fucker has no choice.

  Gabriel's jaw tightens as he lifts the whip. I can't even imagine being in his position. My stomach is curdling at the thought. Brandt is looking back at him, and gives him the nod. Brandt always was the intelligent one. He's saying get on with it, so we stand a chance at getting out alive. It's the sensible play.

  Gabriel gives him a slow nod of his own and raises his whip hand. Giving me one last look, which should have me shaking in my boots, he flicks the tails back and lets them fly. He's not gentle. By the way Brandt's shoulders jerk back in shock, he's just imparted one hell of a wallop and I clench my teeth to stop myself from sucking in a pained breath. I can't let Mal see I'm affected by it. I know he's eating up the expression on my face because he's looking right at me, and I have to let him know I don't give a fuck.

  'Let me have a go,' I wheedle. 'Please? What's a girl need to do to get her own back?' Another smile. There, that should do it. Someone give me an Oscar already.

  Gabriel brings his hand back to let loose another vicious crack. Jesus Christ. He's taking Mal seriously. He's not holding his punches, that's for sure.

  Mal grabs my chin and brings my eyes up to his. He's looking for emotion, but he won't find any. Not a single flicker of concern flutters across my face. I'm used to this game and I've learnt to play it well.

  'Huh, you really do hate him, don't you?' He seems surprised. It's not that much of a stretch, is it? Especially when you consider how the bastard has treated me these past few days. The fact that I still adore him just goes to show what state my mental health is in.

  'Let me show you just how much I loathe that fucker,' I growl. I then have to school my features as Gabriel paints another stripe upon Brandt's back. Can I whip him? I'm not sure I have it in me, but on the other side of the coin, I wouldn't be able to do as much damage as the dark angel in front of me. My eyes are mesmerised by the grace of his body as he bends the whip back to let it fly once again. There's a certain erotic beauty in watching his muscles contract, tense and then relax as the whip moves in an arc. I daresay I won't see it in quite the same light when it's my turn to go under it, but it doesn't stop my eyes from staring at the exquisite perfection of his body.

  'No, darlin', you can't hit hard enough. You need strong arms to do this kind of shit,' Mal says, equally as entranced at the unfolding performance. It's a relief th
at his eyes are somewhere else, but I don't let him know it.

  'I bet I could do some damage,' I grunt, with a fair degree of menace. It's directed at Gabriel, but he doesn't need to know that.

  Mal laughs. 'I don't doubt it, but you won't do nearly as much as he will.' It's no word of a lie. Brandt has his hands flat against the wall and his knuckles are white as he curls them into claws. He doesn't make a sound as the whip crashes into him, and that worries me. That tells me he's familiar with pain - too familiar. I know some of what he's had to endure in prison, and I know I'm directly responsible for that. I have so many sins to atone for, and they weigh heavy upon me.

  Mal is content to sit in silence, soaking up the delightful atmosphere, as Brandt takes a beating. I think he'd have enjoyed it more if I'd have appeared bothered by the ordeal, though. Now he thinks I'm not he's likely to move things along more quickly. This is a blessing for Brandt, although I'm sure he wouldn't thank me for it.

  Just as I've suspected, after a couple of minutes Mal barks, 'Blood!' He's not interested in watching Brandt get fucked up; he wants to move on to the next course - the one where I'm the main dish.

  It takes every ounce of my willpower to pretend to be unaffected as Gabriel goes at Brandt as if he's something out of a Freddy Kruger movie. He knows exactly what he's doing, which doesn't surprise me, and he does it with alarming efficiency. Within minutes Brandt is hissing all kinds of expletives through his teeth, while little red rivers of blood dribble down his back. I want to cry. Instead I smile and try to look at Mal as if he's not a reincarnation of Adolf Hitler. In order to give myself a little extra credibility I also begin humming and bob my head from side to side as the shitshow continues. In the end Mal gets bored, as I knew he would.

  'Enough. It's her turn.' Both men turn towards me, as Mal sits calmly beside me with a dark gleam in his eye. He expects me to fight, or at least beg him for mercy. I'm tempted not to bother, as I know it won't get me anywhere, but this is the part that turns him on. Hopefully, if we get it out of the way, he'll want to finish what he's started and this can all be over. I'm not in a rush to fall headlong into my own gruesome death, but neither do I want to drag this awful mess out. I just want it to be over. With any luck the boys can then somehow scrape together an escape plan and get themselves away. There is no chance of that happening for me.