Manik

by Amo Jones

  We start making our way into the building, shuffling past suited men and women as they exit. I go straight to the elevator, punching the “up” button.

  “You know where you’re going?” Aeron asks, again, not looking at me but ahead.

  “Yes,” I answer, a little bit confused with how he’s acting. Maybe he doesn’t hate me, and this conversation will go better than I had made it out in my head.

  We step inside once it pings open and I press the “P” button for the penthouse, and then further punch in the pin that I remember by heart.

  Aeron whistles. “Oh, he trusts you.”

  “And I somewhat him.”

  “That’s cute,” he snaps, and I finally turn to face him, my arms folded across my chest.

  “What’s cute?” And it has taken less than five minutes for him to piss me off.

  “The fact that you trust him after barely knowing him for two weeks but you’ve known me for almost a year and you still second guess my shit.”

  I clench my jaw. “Those are two completely different situations, Aeron, and you damn well know it!”

  He shrugs, blowing me off.

  And I’m mad.

  I shove him as hard as I can, but his body doesn’t budge. “Screw you, Aeron! You came into my goddamn life, flipped it upside down, ruined me, destroyed everything I ever thought I knew, made me fall in fucking love with you, and then made me think you were leaving me, and then made me fall in love with you again, and then you take my whole world away from me! So, fuck you, Ae, this is different, and you fucking know it!”

  This time he spins around, his hands flying to my arms as he pushes me against the wall, banging on the stop button.

  The elevator jolts abruptly and his eyes finally come to mine.

  I flinch because they’re blazing angry. I’ve never seen such anger seep from him other than when…

  Oh no. Please don’t tell me that…

  “One,” he growls over my lips, his hand unbuttoning my jacket. “You belong with me and you damn well know it. Now, fucking accept it so we can get on with our life. Two, don’t you ever for a fucking second think that I don’t hate myself for some of the shit that went down with you. If I could fix it all, Beatrice, I’d fucking fix it, alright? Now stop being a fucking brat. Thirdly,” he pauses, his hands shoving down the front of my pants.

  I pant like a deranged bitch in heat.

  “This is fucking mine and I’m done waiting.”

  His mouth comes to mine, his tongue slipping between my lips. He swirls it roughly and then extracts it. I grind on his hand as his finger slides inside of me.

  “Come, baby,” he mutters against my lip. “Or you still prefer when I talk to you like shit?”

  I bite on his bottom lip and he groans, shoving himself into me so hard my body flies up the wall. I wrap my legs around his waist, my hands coming to his cheeks. And then I explode all over his hand, seeping into my panties. He withdraws as my body pulses on my shut-down.

  Taking his hand out of my pants, he licks me clean off his fingers and then places a soft kiss on my lips. “You done being a brat, or do I need to do that a few more times?”

  “Maybe a bit of both.” There are obviously some things that I still need to get over between him and me, but I had decided before I had come to New York that I was willing to start making things right with him again. I missed him so much it felt like he had literally taken my heart with him. That kind of pain is unbearable because there is no way of calming the hurt.

  He hits the red button again, releasing the elevator and we continue up to see Antonio Corvo.

  “Demons”—Jelly Roll

  The white walls of his office are a stark contrast to everything I expected to walk into on my way up here.

  There’s one large glass wall that overlooks the lively city of NY, a large marble desk, and an equally large bookshelf that houses, well, books, and memorabilia.

  “Take a seat.” Antonio gestures to the sofa and Aeron and I both follow his instructions. “I must say,” he murmurs, heading for the liquor table. “I’m not all that surprised to have you here, Aeron.” He pours three glasses and then carries them back.

  He passes them to each of us and because I don’t want to be rude, I accept with a smile. “I’m sorry. He jumped me on the way up here, I didn’t know he was coming, or I would have told you.”

  Antonio looks to me, and his eyes soften. Sort of the same way Vlad’s did when he saw Kat. It sets off a swarm of tingles in my chest. “I know, kid. So,” he leans back, putting his foot over his knee. Then he looks at Aeron. “I am aware of your truce to get our alliance back on track, and I agree with them under one condition…”

  Aeron seems to think this over, removing his jacket and placing it on the back of the chair. He’s Aeron right now, not Manik.

  Manik is hood, Aeron is suit and tie, someone is about to die.

  I just hope he doesn’t try anything with Antonio because not only would that be it for me, but also for him because I feel like killing the Godfather of the Corvo family, one of the five Italian families ever known, would put a direct hit on your head.

  “What is it?” Aeron asks, sitting back down beside me.

  “You let Amaya make the decision on if she wants this life with you.”

  “Done,” Aeron murmurs, and then looks to me.

  They’re both looking at me.

  I swallow my drink in one movement, clearing my throat. “I do. I mean, I do want this life with Aeron, whatever life he has. Truth is, I always knew it was what I wanted, I just needed to heal from past pains. It turns out though, funny thing.” I stand up and make my way to the liquor. Pour and shoot. I spin around once I’ve poured one more. “It turns out my wounds will never fully heal without him. I can fill in all the spots I need to, but the final binding ingredient is him. You, Aeron.” I exhale, defeated. “It’s always just going to be you.”

  He smirks, his lips catching between his teeth. “Come here.”

  I make my way back to him, sitting on his lap.

  My eyes go to Antonio, who then rolls his eyes. “Alright then.” He smirks. “Let’s talk.”

  “Gangsta’s Paradise”—Coolio

  Christmas

  “I don’t know.” Kat shakes her head, her eyes opening wide on the plate of chicken Kyle is handing her.

  “Just eat the damn thing.” I roll my eyes, digging into it. I’m way too hungry to pass up any food by this point, and no, this isn’t the part where I say; Yup, I’m pregnant, because I’m still on birth control and it’s not something we have even discussed yet.

  The smell of spice, roasted turkey, sweets and fresh pine invades my food venture.

  “Katiya, stop being a twit, please, for once in your life.” That is Vlad, who I’m still unsure about since he shot me. Aeron cleared up why he was in The Pen that night and what had actually happened, which I appreciated. Gosh, talk about messed up families.

  Kat gasps. “Oh well, Daddy, I’m never! That place is taken by the girl, heavy on the girl, you share a bed with.”

  And here we go.

  Darya, whom I still don’t like either and I’m sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Kat absolutely despises her and everything to do with her lying to me when we were so young, rolls her eyes, taking a sip of wine. She’s at one end of the table and Vlad is at the other, with Aeron and I on one side and Kat and Kyle on the other.

  Happy family.

  I zone them out when Aeron’s hand comes to my thigh and his mouth comes to my cheek. He smiles, and it presses against my flesh. “I love you, Cub.”

  I freeze. My heart does summersaults inside of my chest and then bounces down to my belly.

  I look to him, an expression of shock no doubt spreading over my face. “Are you sure?”

  He laughs, flashing me all his perfect teeth and dimples. He brings his face back down, searching my eyes. “Yeah, I’m pretty certain…”

  “But—”
r />   He kisses my mouth gently. “Shhh,” he whispers over my lips. “Don’t talk.”

  The rest of dinner goes how I expected it to go. Not uncomfortable, just annoying because of Kat and Darya both taking shots at each other.

  It’s when we’re doing the dishes that D turns to face me, leaning against the heavy stone counter at Vlad’s house. “I’m sorry, Beatrice, for what it’s worth. I didn’t know right from wrong—”

  “—Still don’t, apparently…” Kat adds, and my foot slides out, kicking her to shut her up.

  “Carry on.”

  “I’m just sorry. I know that we may have only been young, but I did like having you as a friend.”

  “Oh, I bet, she’s awesome,” another mutter from Katiya as she places the plates into the dishwasher.

  I cut her a glare.

  “It’s fine, it’s whatever. I’ve decided to move on from that. I just have one question…”

  “Sure,” she answers, relaxing slightly.

  I straighten my shoulders. “Do you still love, or have feelings for Aeron? Because If you so much as come near him with those filthy hands, I will chop them off and bury the rest of your corpse in places people will never find. I sort of have a grandfather who can make this happen now, and also, I don’t think your existence is worth breaking an alliance between two mafia families so I wouldn’t go running to Vlad either.”

  There’s a long pause, and then Katiya bursts out laughing. “My sister actually is a little crazy, turns out she just needed a little Manik in there to stir the pot.”

  D’s mouth drops open and then closes and then opens again. “No, I’m not still in love with him, I do actually love Vlad. Yes, he was hard to get over at first, mainly because I know what he feels like inside.”

  “—Hands,” I warn again, drying a knife and placing it into the drawer.

  “—But!” she adds quickly. “I wouldn’t do that. Not to him, not to Vlad, or to anyone. It’s been years since I’ve had those sort of feelings for Aeron. It’d be great if you could both not make my life so awful.” Then she turns and exits.

  Huh. This might just work.

  “Methodical Madness”—Manik

  One year later

  Who am I.

  I’m neither Beatrice Kennedy or Amaya Corvo.

  I am a survivor, not a victim.

  I am a fighter, not a coward.

  I’m a lover, not a hater.

  I’m his Cub, for now, and forever.

  “Lenny, you can’t just go around ordering people to move.” I roll my eyes, squeezing the railing of the gate.

  “Ah, yes I can. You have cargo, the fucking prince, I will do what I want.”

  I rub my belly, yes, my very swollen belly, and before you judge me about my contraception, he was planned. Not that it matters. We had been trying for months to get pregnant, but unfortunately, we weren’t one of the lucky ones who accidentally end up with a seed growing in their belly. Aeron has been out of the Bratva since that incident with me getting shot. There have been no interruptions as far as that goes either.

  Antonio, or as I’ve recently started calling him, Poppa A, has been a big part of my life. I haven’t involved myself in that mafia family, but I keep my relationship tight with him. I’ve also slowly started to get to know my aunts too and their children—my cousins. It’s so strange that I’m twenty-four years old and I’m still learning the basics about my family. It’s slow, but every day is progress. Although, Antonio is still scolding Aeron about the fact that he knocked me up without putting a ring on it. So old school.

  Vlad is shockingly excited about the baby. He doesn’t express this excitement, but every now and then I catch him looking at my belly, asking me questions, (and actually seeming interested). Our relationship is still on the fence, but again, progress. Darya is still around and Kat still hates her so there’s nothing new there.

  Kat and Kyle are married—another thing my poppa A likes to guilt Aeron about—and they’ve happily settled down in their own home. We just found out last week that she’s pregnant so we’re those annoying best friends that are buying everything together, doing everything together, and have even thought of names that sound good together.

  “Alright then.” I look down at my stomach. “You ready to hear daddy rap?”

  I smile, bringing my eyes back up to the stage where a single spotlight shines on Aeron. He’s standing there, shirtless and holding the mic. He licks his lip and smirks.

  “So, I’m about to release a single that I’m dropping with one Jayelle Santana. Y’all know her, right?” The crowd goes wild.

  I chuckle, shaking my head. He’s so natural up there. Base starts thudding, a guitar starts strumming, and then Ae begins rapping. This time slowing it down a bit, every syllable licking his tongue smoothly, the soft low pitch vibrations of his voice rocking me to my core. Then the words catch me….

  “I never wanted you there, but you fought at my despair, and let’s not forget that from the very fucking start, you took my soul apart…

  You laid claim to my life, not just my heart and soul, I don’t know how to say this, it’s like a fucking scribble of madness …

  He turns, his eyes coming directly to me. “But your pops Antonio is right, I gotta get this down tight, so Amaya Noel Corvo, will you be my wife?” Then he drops to his knee.

  The crowd gasps.

  I stop breathing.

  Tears stream down my cheeks as a smile takes over. “Don’t leave me hanging, baby, you know how I get…”

  I laugh, my head tilting back. “Yes!” I mouth, shaking my head.

  He licks his lip and bites down, then brings the mic back to his mouth. “Yo, Chump! Bring my woman here.”

  Lenny and the guards open up the gates for me and I slip through. Lenny holds my hand, guiding me to the stage, so I don’t fall on my two left feet.

  The crowd goes crazy as I make my way to the center. He drops the mic, so it’s just he and I now, and suddenly, the crowd silences, or maybe I block them out.

  His hands come to mine, a smirk on his mouth. “I love you, Cub. For now, and forever.”

  “I love you too!”

  He pushes the ring, the very heavy rock, I should say, onto my finger and the crowd erupts into roars. The love that I have for this man is pure, and the love he has for me is deadly, lethal even, but when they combine?

  Well…

  Flip Trick

  Razing Grace: Part 1

  Razing Grace: Part 2

  The Elite Kings Club

  The Silver Swan

  The Broken Puppet

  Tacet a Mortuis

  One Hundred & Thirty-Six Scars (The Devil’s Own, #1)

  Hellraiser (The Devil’s Own, #2)

  The Devil's Match (The Devil’s Own, #5)

  F*ucker

  Crowned by Hate (Crowned #1)

  Losing Traction (Westbeach, #1)