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

by C. P. Mandara

  'If you don't have a spare room I'm happy to sleep on the couch, darling. If we've waited this long, I'm fairly sure we can wait until the day of the wedding.' I know damn well they've got more bedrooms than the Hilton in this place, but if Helena wants to play nasty, I've got news for her. I don't care. There's only so far I'll go to further this little charade. I don't want to piss her off, but I'm not going to whore myself out either.

  'Oh, Brandt. You're not going to be stuffy are you? I thought you'd have been desperate to get some action after having spent so long inside. Why wait? I'm desperate for you to be inside me, darling.' She pouts.

  Yeah. So desperate she was fucking someone else a week ago. She sways from side to side, heavily intoxicated by alcohol. I want to shake her and tell her that she should be thinking of the baby, but I do no such thing. It's not my baby, and it's not my body. I don't even know the woman well enough to scold her. If she's stupid enough to have such disregard for her unborn child, I'm glad I'm not going to be around her long.

  'I'm really not in the mood this evening,' I say, shaking my head. I won't be in the mood any other evening, either, but she'll find that out soon enough.

  'Come on,' she almost slurs, 'I saw you smiling at all those other women. You were trying to make me jealous, weren't you, Brandt? Am I no longer attractive now I'm pregnant?' The last word ends on a hiccup, before she dissolves into tears. Oh fuck. Now what have I done?

  Backtracking fast, I say, 'No, that's not it, Helena. You're a very attractive woman, and I'm sure you already know that. This isn't about that. We still don't know each over very well, and I'd like to wait until we've rectified that. What's the hurry, sweetheart?'

  She sniffs and wipes frantically at her eyes. 'I'm going to be big and fat soon. You won't want me then. I want to make love to you before I look awful.' More tears follow. I can't help it, I walk into the room and put my arms around her, even though the woman is half-naked. She sniffles for a bit, but eventually quietens.

  'It's late, Helena. We're both drunk. This can wait a couple of days. It will be better if we wait.' The door closes behind me as she brings her hands to her eyes to wipe the tears away. She then smiles. It's an odd sort of smile; one that suggests the tears were never real to begin with. Something is very wrong here.

  'I've waited a long time for this, Brandt. I'm not waiting any longer. Take your clothes off.' Her tone is frosty, but I ignore it. If she thinks I'm sleeping with her she's gone soft in the head. I've had enough of this. Immediately turning around to reach for the door handle I twist it sharply, but nothing happens. What the fuck?

  'It's locked, darling. I just needed you to come through it. You aren't getting out of that in a hurry. Feel free to yell all you like, by the way. The walls are soundproofed and my parents are in the opposite wing. If I decide to make you scream, no one will hear it in this household. Now get naked.' The edge of her voice has now been honed with a slice of cold, hard steel. It's like she already knows she's won, but nothing could be further from the truth. There is no way I'm sleeping with the bitch. If I have to stay in the room all night repeating that fact to her, I will.

  'I am not going to sleep with you, Helena. Locking me in this room will not change my mind on the matter.' What it will do is make me very pissed off, which she is about to find out if she doesn't give me the key in the next thirty seconds.

  'You're not going anywhere, Brandt, and you are going to sleep with me. In fact, you're going to do everything I tell you to for the foreseeable future, and you've got a very long night ahead of you. I've wanted you for a long time, Brandt. You're going to fulfil all of my fantasies this evening.'

  There's the sound of a rasping zip and the rest of jet-black gown drops slowly to the floor. Helena is standing there naked, dressed in nothing more than a sheer black thong. God give me strength. Has everyone gone mad? Maybe it's in the water. I make another mad grab for the door handle before remembering it's locked.

  'Let me out, Helena. I can get a taxi and find a hotel. For the very last time, I am not sleeping with you. We barely know each other.'

  'You weren't planning on sleeping with me, were you? You were hoping you could get out of this wedding and then skip the country. Even now, you're thinking that if you do have to marry me, you won't have to stick around long after the deed is done. Isn't that right, Brandt? Even though I'm standing here right in front of you, your mind is on that little gutter rat, Harper. If I were you, I'd get with the here and now. Harper isn't going to be alive much longer, darling.' Helena begins walking towards me, her hips swaying seductively.

  I barely notice. My jaw is visiting the floor while all the air in my body evaporates as I try to process what Helena has just said. How does she know all this? What the hell is going on here?

  'Have you figured it out yet, Brandt? You're a smart boy. I'm confident it won't take you long.' While I'm stumbling around my brain with a white stick and a golden retriever, Helena is unbuttoning my shirt. I barely even notice. It isn't until the cool night air hits my chest that I realise what is happening.

  Her fingernails scrape down my abs, teasing my nipples, but I'm already pushing her away. 'Please tell me this is not what I think it is,' I whisper. It can't be anything else, though. I've been well and truly had.

  'Poor baby,' Helena croons. 'Don't you hate it when someone gets you by the balls?' To emphasise her point she grabs my crotch, and I shoot upwards as if stung.

  'Take off your clothes or I will ring Mal Adley and get him to hurt your precious little whore, or your boyfriend, whichever works for you because I'm not entirely sure.' She begins to unfasten my belt, and slips it slowly from the belt loops, obviously practised in the art. When her hand slides across my cock, reaching for the zip, the traitorous bastard rears up for attention and she laughs. 'I think you protest too much, Browning. I think you like this more than you are letting on,' she purrs, rubbing my cock up and down with unconcealed glee. I want to murder her, but I want to murder Adley even more.

  'What's stopping me from strangling you?' My fingers whip around her neck, digging into the soft flesh beneath her chin. I'm not pressing hard enough to cause her any pain, but that might change.

  'You wouldn't strangle a pregnant woman, would you? You don't strike me as the type. Besides, you're going to enjoy this. Trust me.' My fingers tighten. Once upon a time I had a conscience, but these days it's a bit hit and miss. I have five years in prison to thank for that.

  'Try me,' I grind out. She is not doing this. I won't let her.

  'Really, Brandt?' She struggles to get the words out as I'm crushing her windpipe, but even now she isn't worried. There is still smiling light in her eyes. She is not afraid of me. That means she has other things up her sleeve; things she can use to control me.

  My fingers tighten, until I have virtually stopped the blood flow in her neck, and she makes cute little gurgling noises as she fights for her life. I don't think she counted on me being a killer. Neither did I, but a lot has happened in the last few days and I don't think much of being crossed.

  'If anything happens to me,' she gurgles... she can't get the rest out. My grip is too tight. If I continue she'll be dead inside a minute. The idea is tempting - too tempting - but I release her suddenly, pushing her away from me, watching with horror as she gasps for breath. Oddly, I remain calm. I don't want her to see me flustered. I'm not sure why, but it'll come to me before long.

  'Jesus,' she spits out when she's able to talk again, 'you could have killed me!' Her eyes are wide and scared. She's invited a viper into her nest and now she's scared she can't control him. Too bad.

  'The idea had crossed my mind,' I confirm, raising my eyebrows so my icy blue stare catches her head on. I want her to know exactly how unimpressed I am by all this nonsense. I have enough on my plate without having to deal with more crap.

  'If you kill me Adley will kill your friends,' she stammers, rubbing her neck while giving me a wounded look. Too bad. If she was worried about her safety
she should have thought twice about marrying an ex-con.

  'So you say. Maybe I don't give a shit about either of them. Five years inside is a long time. A man can grow cold. He learns how to live without friends.'

  Helena backs away from me, but the fear in her eyes has disappeared, replaced with anger. My mind fights through the alcohol I've consumed in order to work out what's happening. There's a picture forming in my head, and I don't much like it.

  As she nears the back of her bedroom she pulls a chair out from under a lavishly carved gold dressing table. The legs, drawers and stool have all been inlaid with mosaic-style mirror, in a middle eastern design. Various pots and glass jars sit atop it, as well as a massive vase containing half a dozen sunflowers. It is a little too much for me, but I'm sure she doesn't care a whit for my opinion.

  'You're in league with Adley.' I don't know why I feel the need to state the obvious, but I do. I have no idea why she would do such a stupid thing, but it's the only reasonable conclusion.

  'Took you long enough. Of course I'm in league with Adley. Now get your clothes off.' Her fire is back. Interesting. I nearly killed her not ten seconds ago. Why does she think she is suddenly back in command of the situation?

  'For the last time, Helena, I am not sleeping with you.' Shaking my head I advance towards her. If she wants another lesson in obedience I'm happy to give her one.

  She laughs at me and picks up her cell phone, which resides on the edge of her dresser. Its design is also gold in colour, so it blends almost seamlessly with its surroundings. It's an amateur mistake. I should have spotted it immediately. I'm better than this. How many glasses of champagne have I had?

  'What's stopping me from calling Adley and telling him to kill your little friends?' She holds the phone up in front of her as if it's a shield that will protect her from me. I have news for her. She'll need to do better than that. I might be slow, but I'm not that slow.

  'Nothing,' I remark glibly. 'If you think you can call Adley faster than I can get over there and spread you across my knees, then you go for it. If you fail, Helena, I will not be gentle with you, nor will I show you any mercy. You won't sit down for a week, and as we're getting married in a few days' time, that could be rather awkward.' It's the alcohol talking. I feel the need to unleash some of my temper and taking it out on her seems like the perfect solution. I feel like I've been boxed in on all sides. I'm guessing it's a lot like drowning with a lead weight around your leg. You can see the light above you, and you know where the air is, you just can't get to it. Maybe it would be easier if I killed myself now.

  We stand facing each other. Helena's eyes are on me, and mine are on the phone she holds in her hand. Several questions run through my mind. The first is how quickly she can dial out. There's a good chance it's password protected, but it could just as easily require a fingerprint. From there, how quickly can she find his number? Does she have him on speed dial or will she have to look through her address book? I'm betting I can get over there and knock it from her hands before she has a chance to do anything. So, am I going to make the first move? Damn right I am.

  Jumping over the bed I grab the wrist holding the phone, which clatters to the floor. She looks up at me, horrified.

  'Not expecting that, huh?' Tightening my hold on her wrist I use my foot to grind the phone into the floor. With a bit of pressure there's a nasty crack which indicates she won't be calling anyone for a while. 'So, Helena, I'm curious - what's your next move?' I may not be able to get out of the room without her help, but now I have the upper hand I don't feel quite as bad about it.

  'Let go of me this instant, Brandt. Get out of here.' She tries her hardest to shake off my grip, but I'm a big guy and she's going nowhere.

  'Which one is it, Helena?' I ask, giving her a mocking look. 'One minute you want me to take my clothes off so I can fuck you, and in the next you want me to go away. Was it something I said?'

  She screams. 'Get off me now, Brandt, or I swear it will be the worse for you as soon as tomorrow dawns.' I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow, nor do I care. I've had it with taking orders from people.

  'Oh, I don't know,' I say, 'I don't think it's going to be a very pleasant day for you either, sweetheart. I think you'll be bruised in some very important places.' Very bruised, as it happens.

  'You wouldn't,' she starts to sob, and tears begin to fall. If she thinks I'm falling for that act twice she isn't as smart as I thought.

  'That's not going to wash this time around,' I feel the need to state, though she should be able to figure that out all by herself. 'You wanted to be fucked, right? Well, I'm going to make sure you are, in all the places that count. You'll also get the spanking you deserve, pumpkin. My only question is, are you going to lie there and take it like a good little girl, or am I going to have to tie you down?'

  She shrieks and makes a mad dash for the door. Excellent. That's just what I was hoping for.

  Chapter Ten - Gabriel

  When Mal has finished sawing through my restraints, he holds out his hand to help me up. It's a bit like accepting help from a rattlesnake, but I do it anyway. There is nothing to be gained from antagonising him just yet. I am wondering if I can take him out, and as I get to my feet I feel my body poise for action.

  'Don't even think about it. I have ten guards stationed outside, and they have orders to kill you if you prove difficult. Either you cooperate, or you and your friends will die. Which is it to be?' He raises his eyebrows as he waits for my response, but he already knows what my answer will be. He holds all the cards, but if or when that changes, he'll know about it.

  'I'll cooperate.' The words are succinct. I'm not going to say any more than I have to. Words can get you into trouble, and we're in enough trouble as it is.

  'I was hoping you'd say that. I want to see if you can be useful around these parts. If so, you might get to live. Follow me.' He begins striding off outside, so with a last look at Harper, who's face is even paler than normal, I shrug my shoulders and do as I'm told.

  When we get outside there's a man tied to a chair in the middle of the warehouse, and he's been beaten bloody. He has a black eye, a fat lip, a broken nose, and his jawbone doesn't look great. Mal has gone to town on him. He's unconscious, but I suspect he won't be for long.

  I want to ask what he's done, but I don't. Mal won't like questions. He wants robots who follow orders. The less people know, the less likely he is to get into trouble.

  I wait for instructions. I already have a rough idea of how this will work. He'll want to see that I'm not squeamish and that I'm capable of doing what I'm told. A smart man would also film it, so he has leverage over me. That way, if he ends up killing both Brandt and Harper, he can threaten me with the prospect of going back to jail if I don't play nice. In his world, I'm only useful if I'm a monster.

  We both stand in silence, looking at the mess before us. This is foreplay for Mal. He enjoys it. He knows I'm uncomfortable, and he's waiting for me to speak first. I'm not going to. I'll stand here all night if I have to.

  When the silence stretches on for what seems to be a lifetime, he finally gives in.

  'You're a tough one to crack, aren't you?' he says.

  'That could be why I was in a top security prison,' I remark flippantly. If it earns me a smack around the head, it's a small price to pay.

  'Good point. How did you get there?' It's a rhetorical question. He already knows. You don't get into a position of power like he has without knowing all there is to know about everyone around you. Some battles he fights are silent, but just as deadly.

  'I killed someone. Killed a few more while I was inside too, but I got better at covering my tracks.' I'm about to kill again, too. That's why I'm here. I'm not bothered by this prospect. I've known it was coming. I can torture, kill or maim, and not lose a moment's sleep over it. I know I should, but I don't. The difference between Mal and me is that I do it for survival, not for fun. I don't get turned on by it, and I don't want powe
r. Lust for power will always bite you in the ass, eventually. Mal just doesn't know it yet.

  He pulls over a black plastic chair and sits on it back to front, his gaze on me the entire time. He doesn't trust me an inch. I feel similarly conflicted, but I need to keep my gaze forward and concentrate on what I'm supposed to do. There's a good chance I'm not going to like what comes out of his mouth next, and sure enough, I'm not disappointed.

  'I want you to pull his fingernails out one by one until he squeals.' I remain expressionless, even though I want to sneer in distaste. I know there are cameras trained on me, and that Mal will take great pleasure in watching this little episode later. I've said I'm a killer, now I need to act like one. Torturing people is not something I enjoy unless I know they've earned it. Fighting Mal's battles is not high on my to-do list, but that doesn't matter right now. Staying alive does.

  'What happens if he doesn't squeal?' The guy in front of me doesn't look that tough, but I would be the first to admit that looks can be deceiving. Take Harper, for instance.

  'Then you're not doing the job right. In any case, do what you want to him, but you need to get results. You're not leaving here until you do.' Well, that told me.

  'What do I have to work with?' If it's just my fists it will take longer. If I have some tools to play with I can probably finish up inside of five minutes, although I won't. Mal wants to have some fun. As I'm at his mercy, I'm not going to piss him off just yet.

  He comes around to stand in front of me and puts his hands in his pockets. He's relaxing. That's probably because he's got men stationed all over this place.

  'Whatever you can find. He's tied up. He's not going anywhere.'

  'And what do you want to know?' I'm not sure I'm going to like this, but I ask anyway.

  'Who he snitched to. I just want a name.' Well, that's simple enough at least. Now I've just got to wake the poor bastard up.

  Getting straight down to business, I give the guy a backhander that sends his chair rocking. His eyes bug open and he blinks at me stupidly.