by Addy Archer
Yeah, a fun fucking way to destress for sure.
CHAPTER SIX
– WINTER –
“Leaves with a waterfall and don’t forget the sky. But not too much. Clouds. Or maybe rain. Or blue. Yes. Bright and clear.” I end the memo and place the phone next to my coffee.
Emmet smirks. “Can you make sense of your own rambling notes?”
I take a sip from my delicious coffee. “Sometimes it inspires me to make something completely different, but that’s the fun part.”
“I think you’re very talented.” The way he gives me those words with honesty in his eyes and a hint of awe in his voice is making me uncomfortable.
I’m not used to getting compliments. I’m also not used to others seeing my work. I only ever made stuff in my notebook and I’ve made a mural once, but that’s it. My aunt always said I was destined to be an artist and how I should follow my heart and live my dream. I guess in some twisted turn of life I’m now able to say I am . . . living my dream.
I don’t know about following my heart because in no way would I explain it like that since me getting to this point has nothing to do with matters of the heart. Ugh. Follow your heart. Stupid saying. I’m about to marry a man who has no heart. Well, maybe he does but it’s not equipped for love, more like grumpiness, and assholism.
Emmet stands. “Shall we head back? They should be done, don’t you think?”
Right. Wedding dress. Absolutely no matters of the heart. And yet I wanted the gorgeous wedding dress, the lace underwear, a wedding night to . . . yeah, living my dream but then again, dreams aren’t really true and this wedding is a necessity. A trade of favors. The favor being Bruno’s wife and having his baby.
Ugh. Gone is my good mood. No matter how my heart skipped when he called me earlier and offered to take me to a lingerie store. Okay, I guess it’s purely for his benefit too, but he did offer to make me a sandwich later tonight. And the last time he made me a sandwich there were hot kisses involved.
Shit. Maybe I’m just sexually frustrated. And to think I never had sex but due to this man–who has only kissed me so hard my panties almost evaporate by the mere heat of it–I’m now craving it like I’m addicted to something I’ve never even freaking experienced. No sex. Sex. Yes. I have sex on the brain. Dammit.
“Fine, let’s get this over with,” I grumble.
Emmet grabs his suit jacket and snickers, “Aren’t you a burst of sunshine? I thought you were excited about the dress a moment ago.”
I offer him a small smile. “Sorry, I’m just anxious to get back to my art studio and work on the idea that popped into my head,” I lie straight through my teeth.
Emmet’s phone dings. He takes a moment to check it and shoves the phone back into his pocket. “Come on, let’s finish up in the bridal shop and head home. Bruno will be done soon as well.”
We walk across the street to the bridal store. We had to wait for the woman to do the alterations she thought were needed. I already loved the dress when I first laid eyes on it. It was the first one I saw actually. Spaghetti straps, a lace top, and the softest of fabric flowing down in sensual waves, as if it would flow in the wind if there was a slight breeze.
The moment we walk inside, the woman who owns the store comes rushing toward me and ushers me into a room in the back. The walls are covered with mirrors and there’s a dressing room. Emmet stays behind while I slip into the tiny room and quickly change into the dress. I don’t have a clue what the woman did because the dress is still the exact same.
The flow of the dress really is smooth, as if . . . a thought enters my brain and I quickly grab my phone, hitting the record button to make a note. I stroll out to glance in the many mirrors, mindlessly talking to myself but fall silent and come to a stop when I see the senator, Ridge Blacksson, standing in front of the mirrors.
“Ridge Blacksson,” I state, not able to hold back the disgust running through me. “What are you doing here?”
I glance at the door leading to the front of the store where Emmet is. I quickly shift my attention back to Ridge since he’s the biggest threat in the room and I need to keep my eye on him while I think of a way to escape or call Emmet for help without Ridge attacking me.
“Winter Adelmans, you look stunning in clothes, though I prefer you naked like the last time I saw you.” There’s a glint in his eyes as if this man thinks he’s a top dog and everyone else is beneath him.
I raise my chin, trying to feel confident but I seriously want Emmet to come bursting in here and get Ridge away from me. Wishful thinking since the bridal shop owner said men aren’t allowed in this part of the shop. Which makes me realize with the dress seeming the same, the bitch from the bridal shop must have contacted Ridge to come here instead of my dress needing time to get freaking altered.
Becoming pissed, I sneer, “And I thought you preferred your women locked in your basement to fuck whenever you want, and then trade for another one once you get tired of the monthly flavor or whenever there’s an auction in the neighborhood.”
“Now, now, Winter. A dirty mouth doesn’t suit a lady. But I can see why Bruno would find you appealing. Tell me, how did he persuade you to become his wife? Let me guess, he bought you, and then bought you.” Ridge smirks.
I stay quiet–fuming on the inside–not to give Ridge the satisfaction of knowing how true his words are.
“Let me make you another offer too so you have options. Though, I do feel the need to warn you since it would be a shame for such a pretty lady to die. You see, the women in Bruno’s life tend to die. Quite brutally actually. Did you know this little detail?”
My eyes slide to the door, wondering if Emmet isn’t worried about what’s taking me so long. Though, this morning it also took a while here in the dressing room when the woman fussed with the dress. Dammit, I want to punch the bitch in the face for conspiring with Ridge.
“I can tell by the look on your face you’re aware, but do you know the real reason why they died? He murdered them, you know. His wife because she couldn’t produce an heir, his mistress because she was pregnant but Bruno didn’t want any bastards roaming this earth, and he wouldn’t marry a whore. So, you see, your virginity is what appeals to him. But what if you can’t get pregnant? You’ll end up like the others, in the ground accompanied by worms to feast on your body. But I will give you a choice.”
Oh, this should be interesting. I tilt my head and fake interest.
There’s eagerness spreading his face as he starts to explain his offer, “There is going to be a shift in leadership, and when you look like this.” He waves his hand at my appearance and licks his bottom lip. “I would suggest you’d be a better fit as a senator’s wife, don’t you think? All we would have to do is get rid of Bruno.”
“A shift in leadership?” I ask, trying to keep him talking and appearing to be on his side for my own safety because this man is a snake.
I might have doubts about all of this, and Ridge’s words about Bruno’s wife and mistress lashed out in my brain, igniting a hint of doubt. Especially since there’s a signed contract with Bruno demanding a son. What if I can’t produce an heir? Would Bruno kill me too? He’s not a kind and loving man who settles for lovingly growing old together.
“Let’s just say things have been put into motion to make room for me to step up if Bruno would be out of the picture.” He glances at one of the mirrors and tweaks his tie. The man is so full of himself.
“And how do you plan for Bruno to get out of the picture? I assume you want my help. And what do you have to offer me? A spot in the basement with the other women you keep swapping at auctions?” I cross my arms in front of my chest.
“Oh, no. I would get rid of the one I have now,” he croons and steps closer. “Like I said, you would become my wife. All you need to do is take this vial and put some of the contents into his drink. Simple.”
“If it’s that simple, why don’t you or one of your buddies do it? And what securities do I have? You
could have me arrested for killing him if I would accept your offer.” I raise my eyebrow in challenge.
“You have my word, nothing will happen to you.” He reaches out and slides his fingers over my cheek in an endearing way, but all it does is flare up repulsion and it takes everything in me to keep rooted to the spot.
“You can’t go in there, she’s not dressed yet,” a woman’s voice rings out from outside the dressing room.
Ridge smirks. “I guess our time is up. But if you do this, we would have all the time in the world together. I will give you the luxury and wealth of a senator’s wife without restraints or demands.” He takes my hand and places a kiss on my knuckles. “Such beauty. And I must apologize for hurting your nipples the first time we met. I won’t be as rough on you because I can now see how much more you deserve than to be a mere pawn in my sexual needs. You’re a woman who needs to be treasured. A stunner made to walk beside me. I feel the need to warn you again. It’s not safe for you as long as you’re with Bruno. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt, your pretty face black and blue, or worse. Until we meet again, my precious doll.” He places a tiny vial in my hand and slips out of the room through the back right before Emmet bursts through the door followed by the shop owner.
“Are you okay?” Emmet asks and stalks through the dressing room, checking everywhere.
The shop owner is looking at me and it feels like she’s there to observe my reaction. Seeing she’s the one who called Ridge to come here–there’s no other way he could have known otherwise–it isn’t hard to guess the bitch works for him.
I don’t know what to do–and for sure don’t want to cause a scene–because I want nothing more than to throat punch the bitch and it could get bloody. I’m wearing my wedding dress and I hate to get blood on it before I get married. Though, it sounds fitting, me marrying a mafia boss and all. I mean, the blood sticking to me thing it’s bound to happen sometime, right?
The words Ridge said to me echo through my head and it also makes me wonder how long I have left to live in this fucked up world. But I guess the whole meaning of life has to wait. Bruno might be an asshole, but I did sign a contract and he did keep his word.
Seems I’m balancing life as it is and I’d rather take my chances with the asshole I am with now–who has only showed me kindness when his hands and lips were on me–than the snake who was just here to suggest I’d kill a man.
“I’m fine. I’m going to change and then I want to go home.” I stalk to where my clothes are and Emmet closes the door behind me. From underneath the door I can still see his shoes and I’m sure he will keep watch until I come out.
I should say something but right now everything is just screaming through my head and nothing makes sense. Quickly getting into my own clothes I realize my phone is still recording. Shit. I press the button to end it and suddenly realize I recorded the whole interaction with Ridge without knowing.
I might have forgotten the words I wanted to record to later sketch a picture I had in my head, but this is worth so much more. I slide the phone into my pocket and stalk out of the dressing room.
I give the woman a look. “The dress is perfect, wrap it up so I can take it with me.”
She jumps into action and within a few minutes Emmet and I leave the bridal shop. The woman rushes out after us, drawing Emmet’s attention. He stalks back at the same time pain bursts through my head. Another punch hits my side and it makes me stumble. I am not able to brace or so much as slightly dodge the fist hitting my eye. Piercing pain and black spots overrule my senses as I crash to the ground.
I hear shouting, a gun firing, then Emmet appears in my vision. “Are you okay? Winter, talk to me.”
“I’m not okay,” I grumble and hiss from the pain when I touch my face.
“She’s been attacked,” Emmet barks into his phone. “No. I think I shot him but I can’t pursuit. I won’t leave her. Okay. Understood.”
“Help me up,” I tell him Emmet and grab his forearm.
“You should stay down. Bruno is coming.”
“Help me into the limo, Emmet. I want to leave right now,” I hiss and scramble to my feet to head for the limousine that’s parked a few feet away.
Emmet curses and I hear him bark into his phone again before he opens the door to let me slide in the back. He closes the door and rushes around to get behind the wheel. I sag into the seat and close my eyes.
What seems like seconds must have been minutes passing since the next thing I hear is, “What the fuck happened?” I hear Bruno growl and he roughly scoops me into his arms. I hiss from the pain shooting through my side while my head pounds.
Bruno curses again and switches to soothing words I can’t make out because Emmet is snapping, “That bitch from the bridal shop called me to give you a message. I turned my back for one fucking second and someone must have been waiting. I heard her gasps and grabbed my gun as soon as I saw him kicking her when she was already on the ground. I shot him, I know I did. But he ran around the corner too fast for me to hit him again. I didn’t want to chase him and leave her.”
“We’ll discuss it later,” Bruno snaps and takes me inside.
There’s an older man I’ve never seen before waiting in the living room.
Bruno gently places me on the couch and snarls, “Get some ice for her eye.”
His eyes roam over me. Utter anger is displayed and I can’t help but shiver and move back from the mere force of it.
“Step aside, boss. I don’t think the loving look you’re giving her is helping,” the older man says as he steps closer.
I now notice he’s holding a bag when Bruno steps aside, allowing the man to squat down next to me.
Bruno points at Emmet. “You. Outside.” He stalks out of the room, leaving Emmet to follow him into the hall.
The older man opens his bag and takes something out. He places a gentle hand on the top of my head and shines a light in my eyes. As careful as he can be, he checks me over and when he’s pleased he examined every inch of me he takes the ice from Torin and places it against the side of my face.
“You’re going to be black and blue and sore for a few days, but with your vitals stable and the outer injuries you sustained, I’d say you’re going to be just fine.” He offers me a smile and gives his attention to Bruno. “I would advise to wake her up a few times during the night to make sure she’s okay. Though I think she only has a mild concussion.”
Bruno nods and gives the man no other attention since his eyes are pinned on me. There’s still fury in his eyes but there’s something else. Concern maybe?
The doctor hands me something for the pain before he leaves. One of my eyes is swollen, but it doesn’t stop me from glancing around the room to see Torin and Rhyes standing next to each other while Emmet is further away and now sporting a black eye too.
Noticing Bruno’s knuckles are an angry shade of red I can’t help but snap, “Why did you hit Emmet? He helped me.”
“He should have done a better job at protecting you,” Bruno growls in a low and deadly tone.
“No one knew that bitch had ulterior motives,” I grumble.
My phone. I flash up, wincing at the pain shooting through my body.
“Stay down, you need to rest,” Bruno growls and steps closer.
“Could you for once in your life stop growling at me?” I sigh, my voice wavering.
“Leave us,” Bruno snaps.
It only takes a few breaths to empty the room, leaving only Bruno and me to face each other. He sits down next to me and feathers the tips of his fingers along my hairline, his face turning furious.
“You shouldn’t have gotten hurt. I will find out who did this and kill him for touching you,” he vows.
“You’ll kill him for more than that,” I mutter and close my eyes to lean into his touch, relishing at his gentleness and show of affection.
His eyes turn hard and he pulls his hand back. And the way he flashes from hot to cold also reminds me of the words
Ridge said, the doubt he planted. The women in Bruno’s life getting killed because of him and it makes me wonder if it’s all worth it. I have to look out for myself, I need to survive, live, no regrets. It’s what Coral and I repeatedly vowed. And it’s what I should do now.
But the question is . . . will it be with or without Bruno?
CHAPTER SEVEN
– BRUNO –
I gently trace a path down her hairline. The level of anger burning hot through my veins is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. There’s also an unknown feeling added to the flow of protectiveness and I can only explain it as fear. Fear of losing this woman. And the mere thought is unbearable.
I have to step back and control my emotions. I let my hand drop from her face and stand to create some space between us. Her eyes fill with sadness and it makes my chest constrict, another fucking first. I’m sure she sees it as rejection of some sort.
“It’s not you I’m angry at.” And dammit, the words come out as a snap.
I rub the back of my neck and think of a way to handle this; handle all the emotions going havoc inside me.
“Here,” she croaks and holds out her hand.
I glance at the tiny vial she’s holding out for me to take.
“Where did you get that?” My voice turns ice cold and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end because I recognize the vial. It was the same vial I found when my wife drank the poison meant for me.
“Courtesy of Ridge Blacksson.” Winter tries to sit up and I close the distance between us to help her.
“When? How?” I question and grab the ice from her hand to hold it to her face again.
“The woman. The owner of the bridal shop–”
Her eyes close and I hate seeing her in pain. “Talk later. The painkillers the doc gave you should kick in soon.”
Though, I’m dying to know every detail and would want nothing more than to force it out of her, and normally I would, but there’s something stopping me.
