Blame It on the Shame- Part 3

by Ashley Jade

  He freezes...and I know I've struck the right cord.

  But then those dark orbs of his meet mine again and he smirks.

  Only it's not one of those sexy Ricardo smirks that he's always given me. It's a mean, cold, and calculating smirk.

  It's an evil smirk that's designed to put me in my place.

  “Yes?”

  His voice is deep and smooth like butter. It's also all business, no trace of emotion at all.

  Like I mean nothing to him, like he doesn't have a damn thing to explain to me about why he's holding me prisoner right now.

  Like he didn't just massacre a room full of men while they begged for their lives.

  Like he's...a DeLuca.

  Chapter 13 (Ricardo)

  “Why?”

  Her question is a simple one, but I don't miss the real meaning in her eyes.

  Since Marlene fucked up by not keeping her in her room like she was supposed to, I know it's up to me to come up with some kind of explanation...because I'm sure as fuck not telling her the real reason she's here.

  She won't be able to handle it...not until I kill him. Then I can tell her the truth.

  Kill the villain and get the girl?—my mind taunts. Not likely.

  Because this girl doesn't want you—because you're the real villain in her story.

  She's still struggling to get out of Marlene's hold, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't both impressed and a bit perturbed about the bleeding lump on my maid's forehead.

  Evidently, Lou-Lou's going to need more security than just my hired help.

  I point two fingers at two of my men. “I want you both stationed outside her bedroom door at all times.”

  “What?” Lou-Lou yells, still fighting with Marlene. “No. You can't keep me here.”

  The men advance toward her but I shake my head. “Don't touch her.” A look of confusion passes between them and I clarify. “Not unless she's beating Marlene to a bloody pulp, or trying to run away.”

  “Ricardo,” Lou-Lou spews. “Man the fuck up and tell me why I'm here.”

  She twists out of Marlene's hold and I take the few short strides until I'm directly in front of her. “Go upstairs and get some rest.”

  “No, I've had plenty of rest.” Her eyes turn hard. “Thanks to you drugging and kidnapping me while I was out with my boyfriend, you bastard. That's why I can't remember anything...isn't it? You're fucking sick, you know that? Haven't you done enough to me, asshole?”

  Marlene gasps and lunges for her again, but I hold up a hand and halt her.

  Since she's already painted me as the evildoer, and there's no way she can un-see all the shit she just saw, I'll use it to my advantage.

  I take another step forward and peer down at her. “You think I would hurt you?”

  She glares at me, pure venom in her eyes. “Yes.”

  I won't let her know how much it kills me that she would think that. How much I hate that she has every right to think that...because it's the truth.

  Her mouth parts in surprise when I reach down and skim my thumb along her cheek. Before she can protest, I cup her jaw firmly with one hand and trace the delicate line of her neck with my other, pulling her closer.

  Her pulse races beneath my fingertips as I continue tugging her until she's pressed against me and can't escape my hold.

  My cock twitches so hard against her tight little body—straining to be inside her again, it's almost painful. She looks up at me with hooded eyes when I shift against her, giving her no choice but to feel me, and I can practically taste both her desire and her surrender right fucking then.

  I lean down until my lips are ghosting over hers. When her tongue darts out and she licks that lower lip—it takes everything in me not to suck it into my mouth, throw her up against the wall, rip off that trashy outfit she still has on, and take her over and over again in front of everyone...right here, right now.

  Instead, I tighten my grip on the back of her neck and look into her eyes. “You're right...I would.”

  I let go of her abruptly and she stumbles back, her expression a combination of shocked and pissed the hell off.

  “So you better do as I say. And right now? That means going back upstairs to your new bedroom.”

  She turns on her heels and marches out of the basement in a huff, with Marlene following close behind.

  And that's when I deliver my final blow. “And since this isn't the Show 'n Tail, feel free to change into something a little more classy and a lot less revealing. I gave you plenty of money...maybe you wouldn't need to wear that cheap shit if you actually used some of it.”

  Maybe she wouldn't have been drugged, assaulted, and stabbed last night if she wasn't so stubborn.

  She grips the banister so tight her knuckles turn white.

  Her eyes scan the basement, her disgust growing by the second. “I don't want your blood money.”

  And then she delivers a final blow of her own when her eyes fall on me, only this time, there's sheer sadness swirling in those baby browns. “And I really don't want you...not anymore.”

  I open my mouth to—I don't know—apologize for being such an asshole, but she runs up the stairs at the same time my phone rings.

  “Yeah, Ernesto.”

  Chapter 14 (Ricardo)

  I step into DeLuca's old fight club with my guard up and my finger on the trigger of my gun.

  It's one thing for the head of the DeLuca council to personally call you and demand you fly to Italy for a meeting...but it's a whole other thing when he calls you and declares he's in your hometown...waiting for you to meet him at one of your father's old establishments.

  And warning you that you better come alone or the truce regarding Lou-Lou is off.

  “Put your gun away, Ricardo. I'm not here to kill you,” he says in perfect English, despite his thick Italian accent. “And we both know you won't get away with killing me.”

  When I don't do what he wants and point my gun at him anyway, he rubs his chin and smirks. “Looks like someone doesn't like being told what to do and not having all the power and control in the situation.”

  He takes a step forward until we're face to face. And even though this man is a little over twice my age, he stands almost eye level with me and shows no signs of fragility.

  “DeLuca indeed.”

  He reaches out to pat my shoulder but I back away. “Don't touch me. Just tell me what you want.”

  “A few things.” He circles me like a vulture and I have to remind myself that I can't kill him because then they will go after Lou-Lou.

  “Bruno DeLuca wasn't a good father,” he starts and I have to hide my shock. “And he wasn't the greatest example of what it means to be a true DeLuca...because he lost control in his quest to gain it. He was so busy focusing on one thing...he lost sight of everything and couldn't foresee his own demise.”

  He takes a cigar out of his pocket and offers me one but I decline.

  “He left himself wide open to be overthrown...by someone who was younger, smarter, and loyal. Someone who had all of his good qualities, but only one of his bad ones...a weakness in the form of a girl.”

  I open my mouth to argue but he holds up a hand and silences me.

  “I'll get into that in a second...but contrary to what you think, son—the DeLuca's aren't bad. We're simply opportunists, driven by our underlying family loyalty and our thirst for power. We don't follow the rules...because we make them. Why be controlled by others when you can control them? Can you at least understand that?”

  I reach into my pocket for my pack of cigarettes and light one. “Of course I can understand it. The problem is all the innocent lives you destroy along the way.”

  He throws his head back and laughs and I fight the urge to rock his jaw with my fist. “Says the man who savagely murdered and maimed ten men in the span of three hours.”

  “That was different they—”

  He cuts me off by holding up a picture of a baby girl. “The last man you ki
lled had a 10-month-old baby, and by society standards was a stand up guy. He helped those in need, donated to a few charities, and took his wife out to the movies once a month for date night.”

  I avert my gaze, not wanting to look at it anymore.

  Not because I feel bad...but because I don't.

  I did what needed to be done. Lou-Lou was in danger, she was almost killed...or worse.

  And if that P.I. guy had kept better track of his team, he would have realized one of them was a loose cannon and playing both sides.

  Hell, for all I know, maybe he was the one who put him up to it in the first place.

  Either way, there was no way to know for sure and I had to go by the facts. And the fact is, he dropped the ball and Lou-Lou got caught in the crossfire, therefore he signed his own death warrant. I don't regret killing him...family or not, it doesn't fucking matter to me.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because whether you realize it or not...you're one of us. You've always despised us for all that we do, but you do the very same thing, Ricardo. The only difference is, you do it all in the name of love and play by your own rules. We do it out of loyalty and play by ours.”

  I take a pull off my cigarette and stare him down, because him trying to flip the script on me isn't going to work. “You don't do it for loyalty. You do it for the control and power. You think by making others weak, it somehow makes you stronger. You do it because you enjoy having the upper hand and making those who don't follow your rules suffer. ”

  He winks. “Yes, that too.” He stomps his cigar out. “I'd love to talk more about this with you, however, I've come here for another purpose.”

  “Which is?”

  “Oh, come on, son. You should already know.”

  “You want to make a deal.”

  He thinks about this for a moment before he says, “Your father was more of the deal maker. Personally, I'm a fan of ultimatums.”

  “What do you want?” I grit through my teeth, hating that I'm at his mercy but knowing I'm powerless to do anything about it.

  “John Travine will win the run for mayor of New York exactly 30 days from now.”

  “The fuck he will. Besides, the election isn't even until November.”

  He narrows his eyes and advances toward me. “There's going to be a special election after Mayor Gaffney and the vice-mayor both meet an untimely demise.” He takes another step. “And Travine will win...because you're not allowed to kill him.”

  He makes a tsking sound when I open my mouth to object. “I don't care about your personal issue with him, we owe him a favor and this is it. He's an associate of the council now and his ideas align with ours. And after he wins the people over during his term as mayor, he will run for President, and he will win that too. He's become a very valuable asset to the DeLuca's...and if you do anything to get in the way of that—”

  I grab him by his collar and throw him against the wall. “We made a deal. I gave you my fucking life in exchange for hers.”

  “Which is why I gave you the heads up and let you have the lead. We're not killing her, obviously; or we wouldn't have allowed you to find her first. We gave you our loyalty because you are family, and blood family always comes first. Therefore, you now have what you want.”

  He snickers. “So I suggest you hold her close, Ricardo. Because although we mean her no harm, what John Travine does with his daughter if he ever finds her is not our concern.”

  He jabs a finger into my chest. “And just in case that genius brain of yours still doesn't comprehend what I'm saying—John Travine isn't allowed to kill you or hurt you...but the council won't do anything to prevent him from doing those things to her. It's up to you to protect her, not us.”

  He tries to maneuver out of my hold but I tighten my grip. “Maybe he'll die of natural causes then.”

  He laughs before his expression turns serious. “If he does...your friends will be following suit.”

  He pushes me off him. “It's bad enough having one weak spot, Ricardo...but having two almost guarantees things won't end well for you. And if you think John Travine isn't aware of that...you're wrong.”

  “So that's it...that's my ultimatum? If I kill him, Jackson and Tyrone die?”

  “No...your ultimatum is to pick a weak spot and protect it. Because you can't have both...and in time...you'll find out why it was better to have none to begin with and never make the same mistake again. You'll learn and remember why your weaknesses made you a vigliacco and you'll come out of this a man. The man you were always supposed to be.”

  “I'm not a coward—”

  “You have 30 days to figure out what you're going to do, Ricardo. Because after that—all bets are off and John will be able to use whatever he wants to threaten you to get what he wants.”

  He starts walking away but pauses. “I know you'll do whatever it takes to protect the girl...that's a given. Therefore, my advice is to take care of those people you call your friends yourself...before the 30 days are up—because something tells me John Travine won't be very humane when he kills them. At least you can spare them and make it quick and painless.”

  I'm glad my back is turned because I'm sure he would love to see the way the color is draining from my face and the pain I can't hide with those words.

  He opens the door but I can still feel his eyes burning a hole into my back. “Your father had a weak spot, Ricardo...and it ended up getting him killed. I'm giving you the chance to learn from his mistakes and not walk down the same path he did...I suggest you take it. Make us proud, because those people you insist on caring for will never accept what you truly are, son. They'll never accept that even though your heart may consider them your family...your soul belongs to the DeLuca's. And in the end...we always win.”

  Chapter 15 (Lou-Lou)

  Marlene ducks just in time and the bowl of piping hot soup hits the wall instead of her head.

  I hear her mutter that I'm a bitch and I give her the finger.

  I don't want to be so mean to her, but she's clearly on Ricardo's side and enabling my hostage situation.

  She also refuses to tell me why he's keeping me here...and the way she purposely avoids looking at my eyes when I ask, tells me she knows.

  “You need to eat, Lou-Lou. You were passed out for over 24 hours and you've been arguing with me for the last 5 that you've been awake. It's not healthy.”

  I kick the food tray and send it sailing across the floor. “Being held prisoner isn't healthy.”

  “He's not holding you prisoner, he's—” She slams a hand over her mouth and scurries to the bedroom door.

  “Please, Marlene.” My voice cracks with emotion and she looks down. “You know the things I've been through...you saw some of them first hand. So I'm begging you to either let me go...or tell me why I'm here.”

  For a second, I think I've gotten to her but she shakes her head and says, “I can't. You'll have to discuss it with him.” Before she opens the door and runs out.

  “But I don't want to see him,” I shout, my voice breaking on the last word.

  I have no desire to see this new Ricardo DeLuca...not when my heart still yearns for the old one.

  I sink against the wall, draw my knees up to my chest, and bury my head in my hands.

  The man who set me free...is now holding me captive.

  God, he was so mean and cruel to me in that basement.

  I fight back a shudder...that basement.

  Jesus, the things he did down there.

  Why didn't Emilio intervene? I didn't see him down there, but I know Ricardo's always looked up to him and valued him, there's no way he's not his right-hand man now that Ricardo's the one in charge.

  Despite what Emilio did to me, I know he's always watched out for Ricardo and put him first...so where the hell is he now? How could he let Ricardo go down this path and not do anything to stop it?

  Hot tears stream down my face and I let them fall freely, because I can no longer st
ifle them.

  I feel like I've officially lost everything.

  When the door opens again, I stand up and reach for the vase of dandelions on the nightstand, intending to chuck them at Marlene.

  Only it's not Marlene standing there.

  It's him—Mr-fucking-DeLuca in the flesh.

  His eyes flash when he sees the vase in my hand and he crosses his arms over his broad chest and stares me down.

  He doesn't say a word...he just keeps staring...like he's daring me to throw it at him. I almost feel myself shrink down because his presence is not only commanding...it's overpowering.

  It's not because of the way he's standing there in a perfectly tailored suit with the perfect amount of stubble on his stupid, gorgeous face...it's the way those eyes of his seem to know my every move before I even make it. Like my body is his personal game of chess, and he's already killed the pawns and claimed the queen.

  It's because his silence is more perceptive and methodical than any philosopher's words could ever be.

  It's because I hate him so fucking much for everything he's done...for breaking me into even more pieces...and yet feeling whole in his presence.

  It's because my savior has now become my captor.

  But unfortunately for him? This dance with the devil is all too fucking familiar.

  So I'm sitting this one out.

  I match the intensity in those dark eyes of his and give him a smirk of my own as I wind my arm back and throw the vase full force. Giving it everything I've got.

  Because I want to. I want him to know that I'm not some weak bitch who's going to take this ass up and face down like I did for his father for so many years.

  I want him to know that prisoner or not, he doesn't get to claim me again, not now, not ever.

  I want him to know that he doesn't get to leave me when I need him the most and hurt me again...because I want to hurt him this time.

  I want him to know that I'll never forgive him...because it's me who lives with the hurt. It's me who lives with the loss day in and day out., the loss of the life that never even had a chance to live....while he's out there taking people's lives.