by Marian Tee
Misty almost didn’t want to ask the obvious. But she had to. “Like marrying me, you mean?”
Emilia squeezed her hand, rushing to say, “Please don’t take it personally. My father simply wants Domenico to marry a pack princess. Times are hard these days and we need to strengthen our alliances. Marriage is the best way to do that. Of course, Domenico would disagree. And now he’s brought you--”
Again, she had to ask. “Do you guys hate me?” Would they suddenly become sisters-in-law from hell, out to punish her for daring to marry their beloved, unreachable brother?
Estrella was shocked. “Of course not. It’s obvious that Domenico cares for you. He smiled at you, didn’t he? We just want to make sure that you understand what’s happening…you’re possibly the only one who can reach his heart. So make him come alive again, will you, Misty?”
Before she could answer, fingers clamped around her wrist. She looked up to meet Domenico’s furious eyes. “We’re leaving.”
She barely had time to wave at his sisters. She was panting by the time they reached the lobby. His strides were so hard to keep up with. “What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.
Domenico shook his head. “Nothing.”
Their limousine came to a stop and Domenico all but shoved her inside. The chauffeur shut the door closed. Domenico opened the chiller and took out a wine bottle. He punched a button and out came wine glasses. He poured the wine in a glass and drank it in one gulp.
“Are you okay?”
“Not really.”
Her heart constricted at the sight of his hardened countenance. She had a feeling he was hiding sadness behind that cold face of his and wondered madly what she could do to amuse him. Not long after, she had an idea and fished out her mobile phone, hurriedly punching buttons to get to the right message.
The continuous beeping of keys being pressed pulled Domenico out of his train of thought, one that involved long-buried but never forgotten memories. He frowned at the sight of Misty with her head bent down, hair falling to cover most of her face. “What are you doing?”
“I have a joke,” she blurted out.
His frown darkened even more. “A what?”
What am I doing? She asked herself.
The frown was scary. It reminded her that this guy was a werewolf. What if he got so mad he decided to eat her? “Umm…on second thought--”
Domenico crossed his arms across his chest. He placed the wine glass down. “I’m sorry. Please continue.”
“Ah…”
“You have a joke, don’t you? Share it, please.”
Shick. When he sounded like that, she felt like she had no power to refuse. He was in BOSS mode and it made her revert to EMPLOYEE mode.
If--when--we marry, it can’t be like this. It won’t be like this, she promised to herself.
“Misty?”
She almost jumped.
Stupid, stupid Misty. What have you gotten yourself into now?
She cleared her throat. “There were three guys…”
Domenico raised a brow. “I hope this isn’t a sexual joke.”
“Not…really?”
“Or a joke about stupidity,” he added.
“Um…”
He rolled his eyes. “Go on.”
“I can’t,” she practically wailed. “You’re scaring me!”
That made him blink. Then Domenico started to laugh. “I have, haven’t I?” His laughter faded. “I’m sorry.” He looked at her, glued to the other end of the seat. “Come here, Misty.” He patted the space next to him.
She went to him tentatively.
“Closer.”
She moved an inch.
“Misty,” he growled.
She moved two inches closer.
He sighed and without further ado, pulled her closer until they were skin to skin, her back against his chest. He sighed again, relaxing. Misty had that effect on him, and it was extremely nice, especially after another bitter exchange of words with his father.
“Relax, Misty. Get used to this. We’re getting married, remember?” His arm tightened around her waist as he spoke the words. More and more, Domenico was realizing how much her presence meant to him, and it was unnerving. This hadn’t been part of the plan at all.
Domenico leaned his head back and closed his eyes. When he did, he felt Misty gradually relaxing against him as well, her back curving naturally to his chest.
“Tell me the joke,” he murmured.
Reluctance lined her voice when she said, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She cleared her throat. “So, there were three guys stranded on an island. Jack, Jim, and John.”
He smirked without opening his eyes.
The women he knew would never make a joke like this. It would be something else, something witty, satirical even, and sophisticated. Or naughty – anything to impress him.
“Now, these three guys were stranded on the island. Bandits had caught them and brought the three to their leader. The leader then orders them to bring him 10 pieces of any fruit.”
He heard her pushing the buttons on her phone and knew she was scrolling down to read of the rest of her joke. Domenico wanted to smile but managed to stop himself in time. Too much smiling would make him weak, and he didn’t want that.
Misty continued, “Jack was the first one to come back. He brought 10 apples with him. The leader then tells him that each and every one of them would be shoved up his butt.”
Domenico choked.
Misty was already into the joke and didn’t notice Domenico’s reaction. The chauffeur and bodyguard in front snickered. Then they caught sight of Domenico’s frown through the rearview mirror and coughed.
“The leader also adds that if ever Jack grimaces or laughs, even just once, they’d cut his head off. Jack got as far as two before he grimaced. So it was off with his head!” Misty was narrating the joke like a standup comedian now, hands flying in expansive gestures, completely carried away.
This time, it was impossible for the chauffeur to stop himself from smiling.
Domenico was in the same state. Misty looked simply adorable.
“Jim comes back with ten grapes. He’s given the same ultimatum. By the ninth grape, however, he laughs. And it’s off with his head, too!” Misty made a chopping motion.
“Jack and Jim met each other in Heaven. Jack asks Jim, why did you laugh? You were on your 9th grape already. One more and you could have been saved.” Misty couldn’t help it -- she fell back onto the seat, laughing. She knew the punch line of course, but it still made her double over every time.
Domenico nudged her as his smile widened at the picture she created. “Finish the joke.”
She strived to control her laughter. “So Jim replies, I saw John coming back…” she bit her lip to stop her laughter from bubbling over. “And he was carrying 10 pineapples!”
Laughter from Misty, Domenico, and the two uniformed men rocked the limousine.
“Ah, Misty.” She was still doubled over, laughing. She had probably heard the joke at least once before this but it still made her laugh. She was cute…and priceless.
Domenico pulled her into his lap and hugged her. Tightly.
That stopped her laughter. She gazed at him, wide-eyed, surprised at his sudden burst of affection. “Wow?”
He laughed and kissed her on the mouth. “Whoever hired you to work for my company deserves a cash bonus. I was lucky to find you, Misty.”
She blushed at his words. “I’m lucky to have you, too.”
He pulled her back and this time, she was able to relax and snuggle close in his lap.
“Come home with me?” he murmured.
She closed her eyes. “Yes.”
Chapter Three
Dear Diary,
Domenico is mad at me.
When I see him furious, sometimes I have this ridiculous fantasy of Domenico tying me up and forcing himself on me. I imagine him binding my wrists and holding my arms over my
head, thrusting into me from behind.
I’d cry for him to stop, but all it does is make him ram his cock into me more. Is it bad that I get all wet just thinking about it?
Misty?”
“You know how Lyccan hearing is really good, right?”
“Uh-huh.” She wondered absently what he was getting at. She was so nervous. Had she truly agreed to go home with him? They were walking out of the airport now, and she felt like dragging her feet to delay the…inevitable? The unexpected? The anticipated?
“Well, I can hear your heartbeat right now.”
Her jaw dropped open.
He regarded her solemnly. “And it’s beating hard and fast.”
Her face flushed with color. Hard. Fast. Those were very, very bad adjectives to choose. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the two of them in bed.
Oh, dear.
How had Domenico turned her into a nympho in less than two days?
Domenico almost laughed. Misty was absolutely priceless! He could read her every thought on her face. He knew exactly what she’d think when he used those words and she had not disappointed.
“Where are we going now?”
He was about to say something to make her blush again when his phone rang. It was a Council official, relating the massacre of a small group of individuals, all of whom came from prominent families. One of them was from his pack.
“Is something wrong?” Misty asked immediately when he ended the call, seeing his frown.
“An unfortunate matter I can’t postpone,” he said absently. He glanced at her thoughtfully. “I’ll have you deposited at my home first --”
Misty was shaking her head even before he was done speaking. “Oh, no. I’m not going to put a foot inside your house unless you’re with me.”
Domenico raised a brow, unused to being contradicted.
She raised one brow back even though her heartbeat went up a notch. She was trying very hard to remember that he was no longer her boss but her fiancé. That gave her certain rights. Right?
“You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”
“Umm…”
He shook his head. “Never mind. If that’s what you want, then fine.”
She blinked at his cool tone. “Are you angry?”
Domenico paused to consider her question and didn’t need more than a moment to realize that he was. Surprisingly, he was indeed angry, although words like frustrated and irritated were probably more apt.
He had been looking forward to spending the night with her. Although he knew he would not take her virginity – a rare prize among Lyccans since their kind typically had sexual intercourse far earlier than humans did – before their marriage, Domenico had nevertheless anticipated spending the night with Misty in his arms.
Yet here she was, apparently unaffected and uncaring. He understood her predicament – it would be her first time to be in his home and to do so alone would be awkward for her. He also knew he was acting spoiled, but he was unable to help it. Domenico was so used to women falling all over their feet to do his bidding that Misty doing otherwise was a huge, unwelcome shock.
Misty was still staring at him.
“No,” he said finally. “I’m not.” But his tone implied otherwise.
Misty fell silent, not knowing how to respond.
Half an hour later, his car stopped in front of her home. “T-thanks,” she said awkwardly as she stepped out.
Domenico did not follow her out. Giving her a brief nod, he murmured, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And then the car was driving away.
Misty had a very, very strong urge to cry.
~~~
Domenico stared at the victims’ bodies, taking note of the bullet holes in their foreheads. Accurate and neat, the bullets were fired from a mid-range distance. The killer obviously meant business.
“What do the forensic reports say?” he asked.
Another Lyccan, the pathologist, spoke bleakly. “Silver bullets. Whoever the murderer is, he knows he’s dealing with our kind. No signs of a struggle either.”
Or she, Domenico thought, too distrustful to rule out the possibility that a female could be behind the massacre. Staring at the lifeless bodies that crowded the morgue, Domenico exhaled a furious breath. That there had been no struggle meant the entire group had known who the killer was. They probably trusted that person, which had gotten them killed.
It confirmed what he had long suspected: they had a traitor in their midst, and one whose face was familiar to most Lyccans. Someone famous then, but that could be any of a hundred or so individuals.
Beside him, Ricardo Hernandez cursed. He had lost even more than Domenico did to the massacre, with three of his younger pack mates dead. “This is the fourth incident of this kind,” he muttered.
“They’re getting bolder,” Domenico murmured.
“Do you think it’s the Caros, double-crossing us?”
He shook his head. “There’s no way to be sure. All I know is that we have to tighten security even more.”
There was a slight pause before the older man looked at him questioningly. “Have you given thought about my proposal?”
Ricardo had long been friends with Domenico’s father and a month ago, Ricardo had proposed that their packs be united in marriage, desiring a union between Dio’s eldest Domenico and his eldest Rafaella.
Under any other circumstance, Domenico would not have hesitated to agree, would not have even considered marrying Misty if Dio had also happened to be dead set against that union. Ricardo’s pack was just as powerful as the Morettis, and if they had allied themselves with a marriage, no other Lyccan pack would have dared to stand in their way.
However, Dio was in favor of it, and for that reason alone Domenico knew he would only agree to the alliance if it was the very last resort for saving the future of his kind.
He chose his words carefully, not wanting to offend Ricardo because he liked and respected the other man. “While I am truly honored--”
Ricardo sighed. “It’s alright, son. I knew it was wishful thinking on our parts.”
“If things were different,” Domenico said truthfully, “I would not have even a moment’s hesitation.”
~~~
The next day, Misty stepped out of the cab and was immediately met by hard torrents of rain. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Janice being assisted from of a Mercedes Benz by one of the guys from 7/F. Clearly, William Grant was out of the picture.
As she ran for cover, hands over her bent head in a futile effort to keep herself from getting drenched, Misty heard Janice tittering behind her. Tears burned her eyes. She had not been able to sleep the entire night, troubled by Domenico’s cold demeanor. She wondered if it would always be like this whenever she did not do something he wanted.
She went inside, flushing at the gaping looks of the doormen whose gazes searched for a sign of Domenico behind her. When they didn’t see him, they looked at her with pity, but she did her best to ignore that.
Her usual luck had her in the elevator with Janice, whose cruel laughter made it uncomfortably clear for everyone what she was thinking about.
“Poor Misty,” Janice drawled in the pseudo-whispery tone that she had long perfected. “Have you disappointed Domenico Moretti already?” She smoothed her hand over the side of her dress, yet another skintight creation made of silk, as if emphasizing the slimness of her figure.
Misty didn’t answer, preferring to stare straight ahead even though she felt like a fat cow next to the glamazon.
The rest of the day proceeded too slowly for her. Misty wished she could bury herself in her work, but she was already ahead by a week. During lunch time, she stayed at her desk, taking out her lunch box.
For today, she had prepared a huge helping of mac and cheese with grilled corn on the side. It was one of her favorite combinations for comfort food, something she indulged in when she was feeling down in the dumps. Right now, that was an understatement
for how Misty was feeling, especially with the ill-concealed pity in people’s gazes.
“I told you it wouldn’t work,” Janice was smugly telling Hannah, her voice loud enough for more than half of the office to hear.
