by S Williams
He fills me up with his cock, squeezing my ass in his hands.
“You feel good about yourself right now, don’t you?” he asks, voice feral. “You are la patrona. Look how fucking good you look, bouncing up and down on my cock. How fucking sexy you are with me deep inside you.” He rushes toward the nearest wall, and when my back slams into it, he sinks deeper. Deeper. Fully inside me now. “I want you to come all over my cock,” he demands. “Show me you fucking loved that shit. I know you did, because I fucking loved it too. Mi reina,” he rasps. “So sexy. So fucking perfect.” He rams in again, still thrusting, still going.
I clasp his face and notice there’s blood on his chest now too. Seeing it makes me reel him in until our bodies are glued. “Take me to the shower,” I moan.
He does just so, carrying me to the shower with his full, thick length still inside me, forcing my back to the shower wall with the glass door wide open for anyone to see if they dared walk in. He delivers a harder plunge, breaths growing shaky.
My moans can’t be held in anymore. I’m on the brink. The blood is washed away by the steady stream of water and seeping down the drain. We’re soaking wet, still grinding. Still going so fucking hard.
He doesn’t let up as he drills me like this, holding on tight, sucking on my skin so hard I’m sure it will leave a mark. He brings his mouth up and sinks his teeth into my bottom lip, grazing it, owning it.
“Ah, Draco,” I whisper as water collects on our lips. It feels good. Too good.
“You are fucking perfect,” he mutters, and the pull of his teeth, his fullness inside me, and his deep, orgasmic voice are enough to make me shatter.
He tenses as I cry out, holding onto him tighter, fingernails sinking into his shoulders, and then I feel him go still, but his cock is throbbing with release—a release I’ve never felt before.
“Shit, Gianna,” he curses. “Why do you have to be so fucking good?”
I rest the back of my head on the shower wall, eyes shut as he finishes off. The hot water coats my eyelashes and my face, but all I see behind my eyelids is red.
Red. Everywhere.
9
Mercy
It’s midnight.
He fell asleep over an hour ago and I intentionally waited.
That was a nice fuck. A great one. I felt on top of the world while on top of him, but it’s still because of him that I’m here.
What I did in the shed has made me feel bolder. Fearless. It’s because of him that any of this has happened. Now he needs to pay for it. While his guard is down. While he’s resting. While he least expects it.
I climb out of bed and examine the weapon wall. There’s a pocketknife that I eyed before. It has a black handle with red script. The initials DM are on it. Draco Molina.
I take it down carefully, making sure not to make a sound. He’s resting on his back, eyes sealed, breathing evenly enough to let me know he’s sound asleep. I narrow my gaze at him as I climb back in the bed, the knife gripped in hand. I sling it open to check the blade. Of course it’s sharp. All of his knives are.
I watch him.
Study him.
How he can be so peaceful around me astounds me. Perhaps he thinks he’s off the hook. Or maybe he really doesn’t care whether he lives or dies.
The blade is still out. I hover beside him, bringing the edge close to his throat. All it would take is one slice. One single movement, forward and backwards, just to end him, to leave him bleeding out all over this bed.
I’ve thought about it. As soon it’s done, I’d pack a few things and walk out, making sure to lock the door behind me. I’d leave and let all the guards know that he said I could go for a walk on the beach. Alone.
I would run to the nearest location—but not before freeing Ronaldo first. I would be free—free of him. Free of the lies and the blood and the nightmare I endured.
Draco shifts a bit, putting my focus back on him.
"If you're going to kill me, then kill me. Otherwise get that fucking knife away from my goddamn throat.”
My eyes stretch wide and I jerk away with a sharp gasp. I rest on my elbow as he turns his head to look at me. His face is unbothered—way too relaxed for what he knew I was about to do.
"What the fuck is your problem?" he grounds out.
"You owe me explanations," I hiss at him. "You haven't told me anything that you know about my dad or Toni, which probably means you’re lying just to keep me in your clutches."
His lips barely press. He turns his head, staring up at the ceiling again.
"Lay down," he mumbles.
"I'm not sleepy."
"I don't care if you are or not. You just tried to kill me. You’re lucky I haven’t already killed you with that knife for pulling such a stupid move. Now lay down before I change my mind, Gianna." I scowl at him a few seconds longer. Finally, when he doesn't say anything else, I huff and slouch back, but I keep the knife, gripping the handle in hand.
He's quiet for a long time. Almost too long. To the point that I think he's fallen asleep again, or was he ever asleep to begin with?
He’s a sneaky one. I’ll give him that.
When he finally speaks up, I am shocked by what he says.
"I had Toni killed because I saw him murder my father."
10
I gasp aloud, whipping my head over to look at him. "What?" I ask, but my throat is so dry and thick that I can barely understand myself.
"I was seventeen,” he continues, like I didn’t just say anything. “We were in the United States, just me and my father. It happened two nights before we were supposed to fly home . . . here, to Mexico. He told me that night that he had one more important stop to make. It was late so I honestly didn't care. He had other meetings held at later times than this. Normally, I would have joined him, but this time I sat it out and waited in the car for him because I was tired.
“He pulled up to some old restaurant in the heart of New Jersey. It wasn't too far from our hotel. I could tell it was family owned—probably by Toni's sorry ass or someone he knew that would never snitch on him." I hear the anger in his voice when he says Toni's name.
"My father told me he would be back in no time. Before he got out, he told me that I'd been good and that he could tell I was learning a lot. I was learning a lot about the business aspect of it. He told me he was proud of me—glad that I was taking this seriously. He finally went into the restaurant and I turned up the music to try and wake myself up. It didn’t work, so after ten minutes passed, I got out of the car to walk around. It was starting to drizzle, but I didn't mind it. I needed something to happen to keep me awake. My father was relying on me for a lot during that trip, and I couldn't let him down by falling asleep. I didn't want to disappoint him.
"I paced the sidewalk, but more and more time passed and I became impatient. So I got nosy and walked over to the window to take a look inside." He swallows painfully, as if he has a rock lodged in his throat. "I saw my father sitting down at a single table with his hands in his pockets, his gun on the table, and a smirk on his lips. At the counter was some other man I had never seen before. He looked like an amateur, without a doubt, and couldn't have been much older than me. My dad was talking to him—I don't know what he was telling him—but with each sentence I could see the other man's shoulders hiking up and getting tense. He was getting angrier and angrier by the second, like my father was rubbing something in his face that he didn’t want to hear. The man spun around and I could finally see his face. I could see all of him from that dim light. I will never forget his face or what he was wearing—a black leather jacket, a white T-shirt, and black jeans. I will never forget the crazy look in his eyes. That smug look he wore, as he stepped closer and then, out of nowhere, yanked out his gun and stormed to my father. My father wasn’t quick enough to grab his, and I assumed he either underestimated this man or he didn't think he had a gun on him to shoot with. My father always told me to be smart and to think ahead, but in that moment, he wasn'
t thinking. He was too slow. And because of it, he was shot right through the forehead."
Draco flinches, and I realize his eyes are squeezed tight, as if he’s reliving the nightmare all over again.
"He shot him through the skull. Twice. There was a silencer on the gun so it couldn’t be heard but it fuck sure could be felt. Each bullet through his head was one through my heart. I panicked. I was young so the first thing that came to mind was to run. So I ran. I ran for my life. I ran away from my father instead of going in and helping him. The wind burned my cheeks and the rain was coming down harder on me, but I didn't care. By the time I got to the pay phone I could hardly breathe. I had two options: call the cops, or call the only other number I knew by heart while I was there. I went with my gut. I called the other number."
His nostrils flare, and he clenches his fists together. It's quiet again, and I want to speak, but what the hell do I say?
Toni did this to him? But why would he? He had to have had a reason. Maybe Draco's father was after him, and he got to him first . . .
"Lion came in twenty minutes, picked me up, and then stopped by the place my father was killed. He went inside to check on things but came right back out. Toni wasn't there. The place was empty, minus my father’s dead body. When we heard police sirens, we knew it was time to go. We left, and I started shouting at Lion to do something—to help him—but he simply ignored me. He didn't speak much other than to say calm down or to tell me to relax. We pulled up to some house that wasn’t their real one and he helped me get out of the car. I think they were on anniversary or on a date. I don’t know, but Mrs. Nicotera was waiting at the door and he told her to get me washed up and in bed. I couldn't sleep and I knew Lion knew that because he came up to the room after I took a shower and talked to me. I hated what he had to say. I thought he was going to tell me that he was going to find the man. Or maybe he would help me find him. I had already been ranting about how I would hunt that man down and kill him myself, but Lion was too patient. He just nodded his head and kept his lips sealed.
"He told me, ‘Draco, there are things you should and shouldn't see. And what you saw tonight, you should not have seen. I know you're angry, but Carlos is gone. Okay? And he's not coming back, kid.' I couldn't handle his words so I did the only thing I could.
“It finally hit me and I broke down. I let it all out that night, but the following morning I completely shut down. I didn't eat. I didn't speak. Lion kept trying to get me to interact, but I wouldn't. He kept asking me if I saw the man that did it, or could give a description of him, but I wouldn’t.”
"Why?" I whisper. "Daddy could have helped you."
"Because the next morning I found out the man that killed my father worked with Lion too. It's obviously how they met. Through Lion. There was a picture of them all on his wall in the den. I took the picture. Did my research. I wanted to handle it myself."
"So what are you saying? That you blame Daddy?" I tense up and grip the knife again.
"No, I don't blame him. I never would."
I ease up a bit.
"But I couldn't tell Lion, because I knew if I did, he would have handled it himself, in his own way. So I kept quiet for a very long time about it. I'm certain Lion figured out later that it was Trigger Toni. He kept sending people over to watch me, way before Henry Ricci showed up. The others were smart enough to run. Henry was dumb enough to get too close and get caught. Lion even reached out to me and told me that I could no longer have you because he couldn't tolerate my behavior. He said I was becoming too unstable."
"What?" I gasp.
"Yeah. Your father told me when I was sixteen that you were promised to me. When I came to the U.S. for the so-called “training” with my father and him, he was preparing me for you. I thought you would always be mine, but then I turned twenty-one and finally got some wits. I think he only said the part about me being unstable to protect that motherfucker Toni. Your father was torn because once a promise is made, it can’t be broken. If you were promised to me, then it’s simple. You are mine, whether you like it or not.
“So here you were, in love with my father's murderer, and he knew it, but he never told me because he wanted to protect you. He knew I knew, though. But what kind of father would he have been to forbid you from falling in love? He knew you would have hated him if he sent you to me, or if anything happened to Toni on his watch, so he let you stay with him, but he failed to realize that you were only making a fucking fool out of yourself and he was going to regret it.” He shakes his head. "If only your father had listened to me, he would still be alive today."
I sit up rapidly, glaring hard at him. "What is that supposed to mean? That you are the one who killed my father?"
Draco simply shakes his head. "No, Gianna. I had too much respect for Lion to kill him. Despite him breaking his promises, I could never forget that night he took me in and even made sure I got home safely—or even the times before, when he helped my family when we had absolutely nothing. We owed him more than we gave." He swallows thickly. "Lion loved you more than words could explain. He wanted you happy, and he saw you were happy with that motherfucker. So he told me to lay off, but I kept telling him to watch out for Toni. Finally he'd had enough of me making threats at Trigger Toni, so he had some men sabotage my ability to get into the U.S. for two years, around the time you were planning your wedding—the wedding I didn’t know you were a part of. We knew the same people, had the same connections, but they respected him much more than they did me. He was older. Smarter. He had more leverage. It pissed me off, but it didn’t change anything. Toni traveled a lot. I knew I would get him one day. And I did." He pauses, pushing up on one elbow to face me.
"When I heard the news about Lion being murdered in his own bar, I instantly knew who it was. Without a doubt, I knew. But I didn't know why it was done until afterwards. I had no clue why Lion was making my life a living hell about it. I had no clue why he was cutting me off at the knees and telling me to leave Trigger Toni alone. I didn't get it, but when I saw it was you in the cells—when I saw that you were the Ricci wife . . . well, it all made sense. He wanted me to stay away because he didn't want you to get hurt. Lion didn't keep me in the loop about Toni or you. I knew nothing about the wedding back then or even the relationship. After he told me you were no longer promised to me, he never spoke of you again." He scoffs. "Big mistake on his part. It would have spared you the mess and me the drama."
I blink rapidly, batting the tears away.
"Did . . . Toni kill Daddy?" I ask feebly and Draco's eyes grow wide. He says nothing but his silence shouts it all.
"Why didn't you just tell me that from the beginning?" I demand.
"Because you didn't trust me, and you wouldn't have believed me, and I didn't trust you, which is why I did what I did to you. The punishments and the cruel things, it was to get you to forget about him. To make you see that by loving someone like him, you get treated like shit. To forget him, means you get treated like royalty.”
"I would have stopped loving him the very day you told me he killed my father, and you know it!" I hop out of bed, glaring at him. "Why? Why would he kill Daddy? Toni loved him! I know he did!”
"That's what he wanted you to believe, Gianna."
"No—he did! He said my dad was like a father to him!"
Draco sighs and looks away. "He was a liar. He was psychotic. He would say and do anything just to make you feel safe. It was a part of his plan. Take down Lion, marry his daughter, become the man in charge with a woman at his side that carries the Nicotera name—to gain more respect. He may have been crazy, but he was no fool. He had to win your heart in order to get what he wanted, and he had to worm his way in with Lion. All he wanted was power. Lion's power. Way too many people respected Lion. He wanted that. He envied it. He figured that by being close and marrying you, it would give him the throne. It almost did, but I ended that before it could even begin."
My bottom lip trembles. Draco pushes out of bed an
d walks around to grip my shoulders.
"I told you, you weren't ready to hear it, niñita."
He brings me back to the bed to lie down. I'm stiff as I climb under the sheets, but I do so, all with the knife in hand.
Draco returns to his side and rests his hands behind his head.
"How do I know you're telling the truth?" I ask after a brief silence.
He doesn't respond right away.
"Just let it sink in, Gianna. Let it marinate. Try and remember the stuff he used to tell you. His goals and dreams. Once you think about it, you'll know deep down it was him."
Draco shuts his eyes. We’re both so quiet. There’s not much more he can say. Several minutes pass and his breathing evens out. He's resting, but how can he after telling me this?
How does he expect me to fall asleep now? I stare up and blink my tears away. My throat is thick and my body is heavy. The funny thing is, I could assume Draco is lying and believe what I want, but he fell asleep knowing I still have this knife in my hands. He knows I could slice his throat evenly as he sleeps, but that I won't. I can’t.
He's given me control. He’s putting his life in my hands. The man that kills your father wouldn't give you this much power. He wouldn't let it rest in your dangerous, unhinged hands.
I could blame him, but deep down, I know I can't. Draco isn't the one who killed Daddy. I have to face facts.
Toni wasn’t a good man. He was horrible sometimes, but I loved him despite it all. By loving someone like Toni—a man with so many secrets—I may as well have been the one who killed my father.
The knife rolls out of my hand and hits the floor. The pain hits me hard. I cry until I can't anymore, and I don't know when I fall asleep, but when I wake up, my head is on Draco's chest, and I can hear his heartbeat. His arms are wrapped tight around me, and his lips are in my hair, almost as if he'd been kissing the top of my head as I slept.
