by Bella J
“We?”
He smiled wickedly like he knew something I didn’t. “Yes. We. Now go get dressed.”
I glanced at the dress in my hand, and then back at him. His intense gaze that seemed like it could see straight through to my soul didn’t falter. With every step I took toward the bathroom, I could feel him looking at me. It felt like his gaze seared my skin, as if I could feel his desire for me all the way to the bone. Even from half way across the room with my back turned to him, he had the power to control my body.
I didn’t close the door. I liked knowing that he was watching me. It made me want to spend as much time as possible being naked. Usually when it came to men, I tried my best to hide the scars that marred my body. I saw it as a flaw, a weakness. But it was different with Castello. He was drawn to my scars, drawn to my unexplainable need to experience pain. He made me feel like my scars made me unique rather than crazy. Every minute I spent in that bathroom preparing myself, trying to make myself look as perfect as possible, nerves started to twitch inside my belly.
Ever since Castello had promised to fight this war with Vico with me by his side, I never gave much thought as to what it would entail. I never once wondered what would change, and whether it was something I wanted. From the day I woke up in that tiny room and stared into the eyes of a scarred man that had a remarkable resemblance to my past, I was never given any choice. And last night I was brave—or stupid—enough to toss a choice into his face, to make him choose where my place was in his life. But now that he had made that decision, ultimately leaving me no choice, I wondered if maybe he was right. Am I strong enough? Will I have the strength to prove to Castello that I have what it takes to be his queen?
I pulled my hair up, tying it in a sophisticated looking bun at the back of my neck. It had been weeks since I wore my hair up. Weeks since I wore any kind of make-up, since I’ve looked this presentable. And as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I caught a glimpse of the woman I was once.
All my life I had been misunderstood, feeling like I never fit in anywhere. My family, my friends—every single person in my life unconsciously made me feel like I just didn’t belong, that I was constantly in the wrong place at the wrong time. The urge to run, to get away followed me whenever I was surrounded by people who supposedly had every right to be in my life. I was an outsider, no matter how pretty I looked.
“I must say, I picked the perfect dress for you.”
I stared at his reflection in the mirror as he stood behind me, leaning against the door, his gaze slowly moving up and down my body.
“Do you think I’d be able to choose my own dress next time?”
His gaze caught mine in the mirror. “Not a chance. I choose what you wear.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll be the one undressing you later. So my choice will always be based on whether I’d like to take my time getting you out of your clothes, or if I’d rather prefer, quick and easy access to what’s hidden between those legs of yours.”
From the heat I felt on my cheeks, I knew I was flushed. I turned around and watched as he took a few short steps toward me. The way he stared at me, his dark eyes conveying every lust-filled thought had me clenching my thighs at the same time I gripped the edge of the bathroom sink behind me.
He stopped in front of me, his face and lips inches from mine. “There’s just one thing.”
“What thing?” My words came out soft, slow, my body and mind reeling as if under his spell.
Slowly he lifted his hand and reached behind me, his gaze never leaving mine. For those few seconds I lost myself in him. I lost myself in the depths of his eyes, in the energy that always seemed to pulse between us. It was intoxicating.
As he gripped my hair, taking the bun in the palm of his hand, I sucked in a breath. Gently he pulled my hair lose, letting the strands fall around my shoulders and down my back.
He licked his lips. “Rule number four. Always wear your hair down.”
He leaned closer, his nose brushing against mine. I thought for sure he was about to kiss me, and my body had already primed itself for his touch. But then he took my hand and gave a step back.
“It’s time for you to step into my world, little mouse.”
That was the moment I knew that my life was about to change…forever.
7
CASTELLO
I watched her closely as we walked down the hall. She was anxious, I could sense it. But even with the nervous twitching of her fingers, Tatum looked like the epitome of sophistication. It was easy to see that she grew up in a wealthy home where she was taught to always carry herself gracefully. Even after all she had been through the last few weeks, she still managed to walk with her head held high…just like the day we had walked to the dining hall to face my mother. Yesterday I told her she wasn’t strong enough to live in my world. I changed my mind.
I glanced down at her hand. “You’re nervous.”
“Of course I am. What do you expect?”
“Lesson number one, never show weakness.”
She scoffed. “I’m not weak, I’m just tense. There’s a difference.”
“No, there’s not.” I stopped, grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. “Being nervous shows that you lack confidence. A lack of confidence shows you doubt yourself. And doubting yourself is weakness.”
“You can’t expect me to walk into this without feeling just a little uneasy.” She tried to loosen the grip I had on her arm, but I only tightened it more.
“What I expect of you is to act the part you have been given, and to show the rest of the world that I was right about you.”
“What do you mean you were right about me?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you, woman?”
“Yes.”
I grabbed her other arm and held tight, squeezing her shoulders together. “I chose you. By tearing my family in two I chose you, Tatum. Above everyone else. Above loyalty, above my own flesh and blood, I fucking chose you. So stop acting like you don’t know what or who you are to me. Stop pretending like you don’t know what your part is in all of this. Because you know. You. Fucking. Know.”
Big, round, beautiful eyes stared up at me. “How would I know if you don’t tell me?”
I sighed. “Some things can’t be told, Tatum. Some things need to be shown.” A few more seconds of looking into the crystal depths of her blue eyes and all I could do was kiss her. I kissed her so hard, it felt like I was pouring everything out of me and into that kiss. Our tongues crashed like waves, our lips pressed together as if nothing else mattered. Life didn’t matter. Death didn’t matter. War or peace didn’t fucking matter. All that mattered was her, me, and the way we melted together with that one, earth-shattering kiss. How could this woman not know what she was to me? I didn’t say it because there were no fucking words that would be able to describe exactly what she meant to me. Words weren’t good enough for a woman like her. She deserved more than just mere words which could easily hide true intentions. Words deceived too easily.
I had to force myself to peel my lips from hers, and when I did she let out the softest, most beautiful moan that made my cock twitch, and my balls ache.
I placed my thumb on her bottom lip. “Don’t doubt yourself, Tatum. And don’t doubt me.”
With that I took her hand and led her down the hall. Every minute, every day that passed everything just seemed to get more intense between us, but with that it also grew more complicated. The day I took her for the first time, her body rocking on top of mine while I sunk balls deep inside her, I never could have predicted that things would escalate as far as it did. This woman went from being my prisoner, to being the woman I wanted at my side and in my bed every goddamn day. She was turning into a weakness—my weakness, which was why she needed to be taught. If she could be strong enough to play this role I have given her, no one will see her as my weakness…but rather as my strength. It had to be done.
As we walked toward the dining
room door, I realized this would be the first time Tatum joined Uncle Gino’s family and I at the breakfast table. This would be the first time Tatum would eat breakfast without me feeding her. Dammit. I was already starting to regret my decision.
“There you are.” Uncle Gino got up from his chair and walked over to us. “Miss Linscott, you look stunning.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned forward, kissing her cheeks. He glanced at me. “I was wondering when Castello would finally share you with us.” He winked, and I cocked a brow.
“Come. Sit.” He took her hand and led her to the table. “Unfortunately the rest of my family had another engagement this morning, so I’ll introduce you to them later when they return.”
He pulled out her chair, and immediately her gaze shot up to mine, like she was asking permission. I nodded slightly, and she took her seat.
I watched as she took in everything around her, all the expensive Italian furnishings. The picture was perfect. Tatum in the middle of lavish surroundings and classy art. It’s like she belonged there, like she was meant for luxury and grand living.
What the fuck was I thinking?
Of course she would seem like she belonged there. She’s a goddamn Linscott. She might have had a lot of family issues, but money wasn’t one of them.
I sat down next to her, at the end of the table across from Uncle Gino. Breakfast had been placed in the middle of the table. Fruit, yoghurt, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. The last time Tatum had a spread like this in front of her was when she went on her knees like a good little pet, allowing me to feed her fruit from my hand.
My cock reacted to the memory, growing hard with images of Tatum on the floor, taking the fruit from my fingers, moaning while I watched her pop grapes in her mouth. Good God, my entire body was turning into one giant hard-on.
I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat. “So, Uncle Gino, have we heard anything from our supplier in Mexico?”
I noticed him glance from me to Tatum, as if to say “this is not a topic that should be discussed in front of her.” But I didn’t care. If she was going to be by my side, there would be no secrets, and no lies. She needed to know everything about my life and how we ran things. She needed to know who I truly was…even if it scared her.
Uncle Gino took a sip of his coffee. “We have. Apparently Vico is one persistent bastard.”
I saw Tatum tense when Uncle Gino said Vico’s name. She looked at me, and I nodded toward the food in the middle of the table. Slowly she reached for a slice of toast and some bacon while I grabbed a cup and poured her some coffee. It was then that I realized I didn’t know how she drank her coffee. Did she even drink coffee, or did she drink tea? If she did, what kind of tea?
I shook my head lightly, trying to get rid of all the goddamn questions which the answers held no consequence. I placed the cup of unsweetened black coffee in front of her, knowing she would drink it no matter how she usually took her coffee.
I poured myself a cup as well. “And we are sure there is no way Vico would be able to manipulate his way into our business with Mexico?”
“Indeed, we are. I’ve known this guy for twenty years. We have nothing to worry about.”
“Good. I would hate to go hunting for new suppliers because my little brother decided to fuck with things he knows nothing about.”
“What do these people in Mexico supply you with?”
Both Uncle Gino and I abruptly looked at Tatum. She stared back at us as if to say, ‘What?’
Uncle Gino looked at me, cocking a brow as if to say, ‘You started this. So you tell her.’
Goddammit.
Deciding against scolding her for interrupting a conversation in which she had no business taking part in yet I decided to include her, I took a sip of my coffee before setting it down. “Weapons,” I answered simply.
“Weapons? What kind of weapons?” Her voice was lower, softer.
“Guns, ammo, anything our clients want.”
She glanced from Uncle Gino to me. “And who are your clients?”
I narrowed my eyes, and tapped my finger on the table, pondering whether this would be a part of our business she didn’t have to know about. Uncle Gino cleared his throat and gave me a knowing look.
I picked up my cup of coffee. “The government.”
“The government? As in our government, or your government?”
I snorted. “Is your government not the same as ours?”
Tatum leaned back in her chair. “But you’re from Italy.”
“We’re Italian, Tatum. We speak Italian, but that doesn’t mean we’re Italian citizens.”
“But Carlo, he told me you were from Italy. That your parents moved here when you were children.”
When she said my twin brother’s name I couldn’t stop my annoyance from showing. I slammed my cup down on the table. “Have we not established that everything Carlo told you was a lie?”
“I just assumed—”
“Well you assumed wrong. My brothers and I were born here. We are American citizens just like you. Now eat your breakfast.”
She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. She picked up on what I was doing, that I was dismissing her. I could see the way her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red, and I knew I had annoyed her.
I didn’t care. I hated hearing my brother’s name come out of her mouth. I hated the way it sounded when she said it. It felt like her voice had the power to slice through my chest whenever she uttered his name. Somewhere, somehow, I had managed to grow jealous of a dead man. I envied a man who lay six feet under the ground, probably burning in hell right as this moment. Yet I hated the fact that he had her first. That he had claimed her before I did. Just thinking about another man touching her, kissing her…fucking her.
Jesus Christ.
I didn’t want to think about the fact that she had a past. That she even had a life before me. It was something I just couldn’t comprehend, because to me it felt like there was nothing but emptiness before her. My life was nothing but a black void until she and those damn crystal blue eyes of hers forced some color into my existence.
I righted myself in my seat. “Make sure our associates are aware of Vico’s agenda, and that we are certain we have everyone’s loyalty. I’d hate to be caught off-guard by traitors.”
“I have that under control. But, Castello, I would advise you to have a bigger presence within the family. Without proper leadership, people are bound to start listening to gossip.”
I tossed my knife and fork down on the plate. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m not aware of everything that could possibly go wrong? Well I am, Uncle. I’m very much aware of the risks.” I glanced at Tatum. “But I’ll be damned if I let anyone fuck with me or what’s rightfully mine.”
She looked up and our eyes met. From the way her irises brightened, the way her lips parted ever so slightly, she knew I was talking about her.
She was my risk—my only risk.
8
TATUM
I knew Castello didn’t exactly sell cookies for a living. I, more than anyone, knew he was no goddamn saint. After everything that’s happened, I was fully aware of the Fattore family’s power, that they were a force to be reckoned with. I just didn’t know exactly how powerful they were…how powerful he was. But maybe that was his plan, the reason he decided to make me his shadow for the day. The reason he dressed me up and had me seated next to him at the breakfast table as if everything between us were normal—which it wasn’t. He wanted to show me exactly what kind of man he was, what kind of power and authority pulsed through his veins. This family was no low-life drug dealers or slave traders. They were dealing with illegal weapons, supplying it to the government. Thinking about it that way actually made it sound less illegal.
I kept my head down. The piece of bacon I was chewing was impossible to swallow. And I couldn’t even look at the slice of toast that was still on plate. My appetite had vanished, and for the first time since we l
eft the bedroom half an hour ago, I wanted to go back. I wanted to close the bedroom door and separate myself from reality and once again lose myself in our world. Unfortunately I was intelligent enough to know that was no longer an option for me. That option disappeared the second I stepped foot out of that bedroom wearing a pair of five hundred dollar Louis Vuitton shoes.
The silence hanging around us like thick smoke suffocated the conversation. I could see by the tick in Castello’s jaw, and the way his scar seemed to move next to his eye that he was pissed. It scared me knowing that he was angry. He was a walking stick of dynamite that threatened to go off at any moment. I might not be in shackles, or locked between four walls, but I was still here by his choice…not mine.
I wiped my mouth with the napkin and continued to look down. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and glanced at him.
He didn’t reply or respond in any way. Not even with a twitch of his lip or a nod of his head.
“Uncle Gino, is everything in place for our new recruit?”
Disappointment flooded through my chest when I got no acknowledgement from him.
“Yes. Everything is in place.”
“And our other little…problem?”
“Ready for you to deal with.”
“Good.” He tossed his napkin on his plate. “Uncle Gino, would you mind giving me and Tatum a few minutes alone?”
My heart skipped a beat, and my entire body went cold. I looked at him hoping to see some kind of reassurance that maybe he was no longer angry with me. I needed some kind of sign that would ease the threatening panic looming in the pit of my stomach.
“Of course.” Uncle Gino got up from his seat and left the dining room, closing the door behind him, leaving me with a man whose entire demeanor spoke of irritation and anger.
“I’m sorry, Castello. I didn’t—”
“You spoke out of place.”
“I know. It won’t happen again.”
His fingers toyed with the seam of his napkin, and he still didn’t look at me. “How do you feel about it?”
