Loving Dean (Mafia Generations Book 3)

by Roxanne Greening

  Waking out of the coffee shop, I turned and locked the door. Tonight, we closed at four in the afternoon and dinner was not far off.

  Maybe I should go out? I could go home to clean up and then go out for dinner. I could pretend that I didn’t help kill a man, that man being my own father.

  That man instilled something in me that I haven’t felt in a long time. Desire. Hot burning lust filled desire. I wanted him to rip my clothes from my body and pull my underwear off with his teeth.

  I wanted to feel like the only woman in the world to turn his head. I wanted to be his and his alone. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I wanted him. He made me want to scream, fuck waiting for marriage take me now.

  Why can’t we? My mind whispered.

  My feet connected with the pavement over and over as I slowly made my way home to my empty apartment. I could have a few glasses of wine and maybe go out to one of those restaurants that had both a bar and a restaurant.

  My problem was when I looked down at my hands, I saw blood coating them. The imaginary red liquid that my mind made me see as a reminder of my part in my dad’s death. Would my hands ever be clean? Will there be a day when it was just my hands that I was saw, not ones of a killer?

  Chapter 14

  Dean

  One Month Ago.

  Tony was slow to wake up, and I was losing my patience. So, I gripped his hair and pulled his head back from its slumped position. Then I gave his right cheek a little tap.

  I watched in utter fascination as he sputtered awake. His eyes clouded from sleeping and also pain from his head connecting with the table.

  “Good, we can get started,” I tell him quietly.

  His eyes moved to the table where my hand was lowering. Fear filled them as they swung back to me. Yeah, you know what’s coming.

  I picked up the sharp curved blade that was about five inches long. I watched as the light bound off of it, and Tony’s eyes were glued to the small object.

  Walking around, he was now squirming as he begged and pleaded. So, I grasped his ear.

  “Please, I promise never to say a word. I’ll leave, you won’t see me again,” Tony tells me as his voice filled with the sounds of his tears pouring down his face.

  “You’re right. I won’t see you again,” I tell my victim.

  He sagged slightly, relief pulsed off him in waves. Pinching his ear between my two fingers, I pressed the knife against the back of his ear. I applied pressure until the sharp blade cut into his flesh.

  I wanted to go slow and listen as he cried and begged. But his voice was annoying the shit out of me. I released his ear, and I fisted a handful of his shirt using the knife. I sliced the chunk off and crammed it into his mouth, which was muffled with his cries of pain.

  My hand went back to his right ear, and my fingers tightened on the blade’s handle. Tony shifted trying to tug at his bonds. Laughter erupted from deep within me as amusement overrode the anger.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” I tell him.

  His ear slowly left his head, and blood trickled down his neck as he screamed into his gag. With more pressure, his ear was removed from the side of his head. Without missing a beat, I took his other ear.

  His cries and struggles urged me on. Soon I was kneeling in front of him, and I held his thumb between two of my fingers. I replaced the blade with my cigar cutter and slid it up over his first knuckle. I smiled coldly as it reached the top of his finger, almost touching the part where his hand and thumb met.

  Pressing down hard I watched as the blade sliced through the flesh. Applying a little more pressure had the cutter going through the bone and the rest of the flesh.

  “How many pieces will I take before I slit your throat?” I ask him, knowing he couldn’t reply. I dropped the offending finger to the floor and watched as it came to rest near his ears. Blood was pooling in areas around his feet as a slow, steady trickle continued to pour from his ears and now missing finger.

  Grabbing another finger, I repeated the process adding more and more parts of Tony to the floor. This made the pools of blood even larger.

  His muffled cries and tears brought a kind of peace to me. Something I haven’t felt in days, and it soothed my inner darkness and confusion over the woman. Her pain made me crueler.

  Soon Tony was missing his ears, fingers, toes and his tongue. As I leaned in, I pressed a long-curved knife, one that matched the smaller blade. I’ve been using this against his throat, and the cold metal nicked his soft flesh.

  I watched as the blood poured from the slit I made in his throat. His gurgles started to become quiet as the life drained from his body. He struggled, and his back bowed trying to get free until it was over.

  Who knew Tony had such a fight in him?

  Chapter 15

  Charlotte

  Present Day.

  I hated these kinds of days. The ones where I worked too long on my feet until they throbbed. Especially when I forgot something and had to go back to get it.

  Sighing I gripped the handle to Emilio’s restaurant before placing my key in the lock. I would have maybe thirty seconds to run on my sore feet to the alarm system.

  I hated this part, the part where I fucked up. The part where life kicked me while I was down.

  Pulling hard on the door, I slipped through the opening and ran at top speed while crying silently as my feet hit the floor over and over again.

  The office wasn’t too far away. I could almost taste the relief that I would feel when I got home and soaked in my old-fashioned claw-footed tub. It was the only reason I wanted that apartment in the first place.

  I could almost feel the heat of the water as it slid over my aching body. Slowly loosening my tight muscles and the relief I would feel when the throbbing dissipated.

  My fingers connected with the smooth brushed nickel surface of the doorknob. The cool metal gripped firmly in my hand, and I twisted and pushed the door open.

  There were a few lockers in here for when we needed to lock up our purses. I had gotten all the way home before I realized I was missing the familiar weight of it slung across my chest. The heaviness of the strap on my shoulder, the familiar bounce of it tapping my hip as I walked.

  Pushing harder on the door I blink as it opened fully. My mind scrambled trying to figure out what I was seeing. There was a man tied to the boss’s chair. His face looked puffy and already bruising.

  It looked like they had been beating him for quite some time, but I only left maybe thirty minutes ago. The damages were unmistakable. He looked like he had an allergic reaction, he was that swollen.

  Just as the gasp slipped past my frozen lips, the gun went off. The man’s head jerked from the close proximity of the gun and its fatal bullet.

  Six heads turned my way, the only one who didn’t was the man who was now dead. He died in front of me, just like my father.

  Just like it was nothing. Another life was snuffed from this world. Who would miss him? Did he have a wife? Kids? These men just stole the life and left others to feel the effects of their actions for god knows how long.

  The death of my father still haunted me. It kept me up some nights and terrorized me when I did sleep. Sometimes he was on fire and his face twisted as he asked why I killed him. Others were moments of happiness, although I felt happy few and far between. I was drowning in the guilt of my father.

  This was karmas gift. She was an evil bitch, and this was my payback for taking a life. Tonight, I could feel my own impending doom.

  Scanning the room, I gasped again as my eyes connect with the man I’ve been running into. He held the gun that just killed this man. His knuckles were bloody and swollen from all the hits I was sure he gave the dead man.

  His eyes widen in recognition. Then they narrowed to slits in determination. His eyes left mine briefly as he scanned the room. I could see he was sizing up the situation.

  “What are you doing here, sweetheart,” he asked me.

  I swallowed the lump in m
y throat. As I tried to figure out how to save myself.

  “I forgot my purse,” I croaked.

  Other men in the room looked ready to just finish me off and send me to an unmarked grave.

  “Should have called me, I would have brought it home,” he tells me.

  My mind scrambled trying to understand what was happening here.

  “You know this woman?” One of the cold Russian voices echoed around the very silent room.

  “She’s my fiancé,” he tells them.

  “We would have known if you were seeing someone,” one man says. His voice also held a note of a Russian accent.

  “I was going to bring her to dinner this weekend,” my secret wine guy slash killer tells him.

  “Your mother won’t be pleased that you kept her a secret, Dean,” the man tells him.

  I could hear it in his tone, he didn’t believe we were together.

  “Dad, I wasn’t sure she would say yes and that shit’s embarrassing,” he tells him, his voice convinced even me.

  “When’s the wedding? Soon I hope,” the man with the chillingly cold Russian voice asked.

  “It’s set for three months from now,” Dean tells them.

  “Friday would be the perfect day,” the cold voice sounded like a harsh statement in the now quiet room.

  That was two days away. How would I pull off a wedding in two days? Why the fuck was I going along with this?

  Because this was a mob hit and you’re a loose end, my mind whispered. This was self-preservation at its best.

  “Yes, uncle Kell,” Dean says his voice somehow strong and steady.

  “Take your young bride home and keep her close. This wasn’t something she should have seen,” one man said, his voice was deep and gruff with a strong Russian accent.

  “Yes, Uncle Ivan,” Dean says.

  Dean started walking towards me with a determined stride. With each step that he drew closer, I knew I wasn’t walking away from this. Not without his ring on my finger. He used their names, something I’m sure was intentional, I sighed. I needed to behave myself.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Dean tells me while gripping my elbow and steering me from the room only to pause as one of the men gave him my purse.

  “Thanks,” he tells whoever it was I didn’t have the guts to look and see. I’ve already seen and knew too much.

  The fresh air slapped at my face, and I took deep fortifying breaths. My chest expanded over and over again. How did we get out here so quickly? Was I in shock?

  Chapter 16

  Charlotte

  Present Day.

  Dean took me to his house. It’s a beautiful large house, big enough to fit six of my apartments and that was saying something. My apartment wasn’t small.

  There was a gate that opened as we drove up. My breathing was coming out in large pants, I was in shock. I knew that, and my mind was grappling at whatever it could to distract me.

  “This is where you live?” I asked him.

  His head turned my way, and a frown was forming between his eyes, I could see the concern. I knew this wasn’t a date or anything, so why was I trying to learn more about him?

  Because you want him, my mind whispered.

  “What happens now?” I heard myself ask.

  “We get married and try to make the best of the situation,” he tells me, his voice devoid of emotion.

  Now, when I pictured getting married, it was to a man who loved me, and I also loved back. Not to a mob killer who was only saving my life.

  “Why did you help me?” I asked him.

  “I’m not sure,” he tells me.

  Like that was comforting, it honestly wasn’t in the slightest bit. So, if I displeased Dean, did that mean I wasn’t going to see the next day?

  Well, if he was looking for obedience he needed to get himself a dog. What if he already has one? Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I doubted this man owned a dog or any animal for that matter.

  “What are we going to do?” I heard myself ask him.

  “I’m going to marry you, and you’re going to pretend this is a happy marriage,” he tells me firmly.

  “And if I don’t?” I asked.

  “Do you really need me to answer that?” he countered.

  No, I didn’t because that would mean I was dead, and no one would know what happened to me.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He didn’t need to do this. Not save me, marry me, or any of it. He was saving my life, and I should be grateful.

  “Don’t thank me yet, sweetheart,” he tells me.

  Well, that was ominous. I now felt a sense of doom looming over me. More so than before.

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked him.

  “Sweetheart, when I say marry you, I mean it in every sense of the word. That means kissing, hugging, fucking and kids,” he tells me harshly.

  So romantic I snarled in my head.

  “This is it for me, I can’t divorce you,” he tells me.

  I swallowed hard. This was going to be a marriage in every way? Bringing a child into his dark world? Laying in his bed? Sleeping with him?

  “There will be rules,” he tells me.

  “Rules?” I echoed.

  “You only spread those pretty thighs for me, babe. No one else or he’s a dead man,” he tells me coldly.

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” I whispered.

  Really there wasn’t. I took the sacred vows seriously. Just because this wasn’t a match of love, it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be faithful.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “You don’t need to worry about that, but do the same rules apply to you?” I asked him sweetly.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he tells me.

  That wasn’t a promise. Did that mean Dean was going to be with others and then come home to me? The thought had tears pricking my eyes.

  “For now, you will sleep in another room, come Friday it will be my bed,” he reminds me.

  Like I need the reminder. I wasn’t dense. When the car came to a stop, I wanted to bolt from it and disappear. But I had no clue where I was going, and that had me once again at his mercy.

  “What about your girlfriend?” I heard myself ask.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he tells me again.

  Anger replaced the shock and fear. Spinning I poked him in the chest with my finger.

  “Turnabout is fair play. You fuck around you bet your hot ass I will too,” I snarled at Dean, hitting him with my finger with each word.

  His hand seized my wrist. Holding it in a tight grip.

  “Today you will quit the pill, you will stay faithful. Every kid we have will be mine,” he snarled at me.

  I should have felt fear. I should have retreated, but I wouldn’t budge in this.

  “Listen here, I will not have another Gary in my life. You keep that shit in your pants, or you won’t be getting into mine,” I snarled back.

  I should have argued the kid thing, but I was secretly thrilled. I wanted children, I wanted to be married, and I wanted to know what it was like to be loved.

  I was going to get two out of three, and I was settling for that because honestly, I didn’t have a choice in the matter. At least my soon to be husband was good looking, and the few times we’ve encountered each other, he’s been kind.

  “Let’s get you inside,” his tone gentled.

  But I wasn’t settling for this. I wanted Dean’s agreement.

  “NO! Not until you tell me we are on the same page!” I snapped.

  His hands reach out holding onto my arms. I realized I was swaying on my feet. The exhaustion once again made itself known.

  “Okay,” he tells me as he pulled me up into his arms. Slowly he picked me up. His arm was under my legs, and the other was behind my back. He cradled me close to his chest as he walked up the stairs and into the house.

  As tired as I was, I felt elated that I won. Even though it was a sma
ll victory, I won, and that’s all that matters right at this moment. I may not have a choice in the other things, but I did have a choice on my soon to be husband seeing others and how I would handle it if he did.

  Chapter 17

  Dean

  Present Day.

  Fuck, how did shit go sideways so fast? Anger settled into pleasure. She was mine, and somehow that shit made my fucked-up mind happy.

  She was going to be round with my child as soon as I could get inside her and make it happen. I haven’t been able to get this woman out of my head, and she was now in my arms. I was holding her close feeling her body heat mix with mine.

  In two days, she would wear my ring on her finger, and she will be mine forever. Leaning in, I pressed my nose to her hair and breathed in her berry scent. Warmth filled me as well as desire, I wanted to place her in my bed and show her exactly what it was like to be fucked.

  Keeping my hand under her legs, I used my other one on her back to open the door to her room. A room she will only be using for two days, then she will be in my bed where she belonged.

  What the fuck was wrong with me? She did something to me, something I didn’t understand. Walking faster I gripped the comforter in my hand and slowly pulled it down before placing her gently on the soft silky surface of the satin sheets.

  My cell phone started ringing, and I knew before I pulled it from my pocket who it was.

  “Dad,” I said.

  “What the fuck just happened in there?” he snapped at me.

  “You met my fiancé,” I told him firmly.

  I wouldn’t budge on this. She was mine, and everyone would come to terms with it, I wasn’t giving them a choice.

  “You haven’t mentioned her. Not once, Dean,” he sighed.

  “She’s mine. That’s all that matters right now,” I tell my dad firmly.

  There was nothing else to say about it, she was mine. The way I saw it, it was that simple.

  “You will need to bring her by the house. Son, listen to me. She needs to keep her mouth shut about this,” he tells me.