by J. L. Beck
“He’ll be a little more difficult to lure out of his compound, but I think we can manage it between the three of us. Maybe tap that little 18-year-old he’s been fucking for the past few months on the regular. I’m sure she’d love to earn a few bucks and get him off her regular list. He might pay her well, but no woman should have to suffer his ugly mug indefinitely.”
“And his daughter? What are your plans for her?” Lucas asks, still gazing at me.
His interest in her annoys me. Why does he care what happens to her? She’s none of his concern. I scowl and lock eyes with Soo as I speak, as he basically asked me the same thing. “Sell her to the highest bidder, of course. If someone from the five families buys her, that will be even better. Maybe they will tear each other apart while we make our move.”
“I don’t believe you,” Lucas sneers.
“Lucas…” Soo warns.
I hold up my hand, stopping Soo from speaking for me. “What are you trying to say, little brother?”
“I’m saying I can tell you’re getting attached to the girl. Are you going to be able to keep her a virgin so you can get your money’s worth, or will you jeopardize our cut to get your dick wet?”
I don’t even think about my reaction or if it will make me appear weak. Instead, I surge out of my chair and lean over the desk, intending to keep my tone even, but it drops toward menace as I speak. “I’ll do whatever I damn well please, and you’ll say thank you for it whether or not you get a cent in exchange.”
Lucas waves a hand in the space between us. “Look at you. Even now, she threatens your control, and she’s not even in the fucking room. What are you going to do when a room full of men want to touch her? Want to play with her? Want to fuck her?”
I have his hoodie balled into my fist before I even realize what is happening. We stare at each other, his scowl no doubt matching mine. He digs his fingernails into the back of my hands, and I can feel the blood pooling against my skin. “I’m in charge here. You questioning me isn’t going to lend me more control, is it?” I growl into his face.
His reaction is to stare me down as if his silence and my labored breathing prove a point. With a shove, I release him and take a step back. It isn’t the girl turning my vision red, but my dipshit brother who enjoys pushing every button I possess.
“Why are you trying to start a fight with me?”
He shoves me back hard enough that I hit the chair. “Because she’s about to be your downfall, brother, and you can’t even see it coming. You’re fucking blind. Maybe I should save us all some time and take care of our little problem that’s down the hall. I bet she won’t even put up a good enough fight to make it interesting.”
The red haze clouding my vision wavers, and I swallow it way down to maintain control. “Leave her alone. I won’t tell you again that she is the centerpiece of my plans. If she doesn’t go up for auction like planned, then all this will have been for nothing. I won’t let you ruin this for us.”
His face doesn’t shift, doesn’t betray a single thing, save the rage it usually sports. “And you hinged all your dreams of sweet vengeance on a little girl? Yeah, fucking great idea.”
I shove him back again, and he hits the chair and tumbles into it. “If I have to explain the hierarchy here one more time, you’re going to be out on your ass. Do as I say and don’t worry about anything but what’s in your lane.”
The defiant jut of his chin and the clutch of his palms against the leather are the only warning I get before he walks around my desk and launches himself at me. His head and hands slam straight into my gut. Expecting it, I shift enough to the side, so he makes minimal contact. Soo lurches to his feet as I hold on to my brother’s scrambling form. He flails and punches at my midsection until I squeeze him into a headlock under my arm. Frustration and anger mount, zinging through the air.
“I don’t want to fight you, brother. Calm the fuck down, and I’ll let you go.”
“Fuck you,” he wheezes, renewing his effort to cause damage.
My lungs burn, and my ribs ache, but I hold tight, waiting for him to still again. A few more half-hearted punches, and he stops, sagging in my grasp.
I shove him toward Soo, who grabs him by the nape of his neck. Lucas isn’t having Soo touch him either, and instead, shoves out of his hold to escape the tangle of furniture altogether.
Soo rounds to stand between Lucas and me. Something Lucas doesn’t fail to notice. “Hiding behind your little bodyguard won’t save you.”
Soo shoves his hands into his jeans and shifts on his feet like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “You want to fight with me? You better know your brother won’t be able to save you.”
Soo can outfight both of us at the same time, and Lucas knows it. I sit on the edge of my desk and rub the sore area below my armpit where I’d squeezed his stupid hard head. He’s a stubborn asshole, but he’s my little brother.
Lucas stays in a face-off with Soo until finally he balls his hands into fists and glares at me over Soo’s shoulder. “You think you can order me around and throw me away when you don’t have a use for me anymore?”
I grit my teeth, my jaw aching. “Are you fucking kidding me, Lucas? Didn’t we just have a conversation right fucking here outlining how important your role in this entire night will be?”
We stare at each other, Soo still standing between us. I shove at his shoulder, and he shifts out of the line of fire. I don’t need a protector. “If you want to be a part of this, then you need to stop fighting me about every tiny detail. I make the rules, I make the plans, and you follow them. If you have a problem with it, then walk the fuck out now and don’t bother showing your face here again.”
“Is that right? Will you kill me?” he asks, all menace and malice.
I shake my head. “No, I won’t kill you, but you’ll likely wish I had when I let Soo finish with you.”
Lucas drags his gaze to Soo, who wears his easygoing smile like we’re talking about the weather and not torture and death.
“Bring my baubles to reel in the members of the five families? That’s what you want from me?” Lucas asks.
I nod. “Yes, and to stay the fuck away from the girl because if you don’t, brother or not, I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you.”
He flexes his fists, as if he’s imagining another showdown with me. Soo would intercept him in a heartbeat. The only reason he didn’t the first time was that no one was expecting his dumb ass to go off his rocker.
“You sure are putting a lot of effort into protecting her.”
I let him hear the edge in my tone. The one grown men usually piss themselves when they hear. “So you say.”
Lucas isn’t fazed. He looks death in the eyes and smiles. “You can’t protect her forever. Before the auction, during the show, and after… she’s going to come face to face with her own version of hell on Earth, and you’ll be right at the center of it. How do you think that’s going to make her feel?”
I don’t even entertain the idea. I narrow my gaze. “Get to the fucking point. I don’t give a shit how she feels. She’s a means to an end.”
With a long sigh, Soo throws himself back in the chair, sensing the fight leaving Lucas.
“Any other complaints you want to register?” I ask. “Because we aren’t doing this again. Brother or not, you come at me again, I give you to Soo, and I have your body thrown in an alley to be picked over by pigeons.”
He shakes his head and gives me one long, lingering glare. When he walks out, I slump against the desk and rub my side. “Fucker has strong hands.”
“You shouldn’t have let him get a hold of you. What were you thinking?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. An attempt at keeping the peace a little longer. He’s plowing headlong into an explosion. I guess I’m hoping to minimize the damage when he detonates.”
“Were you serious about me taking him out?”
I shake my head. “No. If it comes down to him or me, then I’ll do
it myself. He’s my brother, after all.”
Soo watches me carefully, and I refuse to back down from whatever assessment he makes. “Fine. I’ll keep one of my guys on him and ensure he’s doing the job you gave him. If not, I’ll put a backup plan into place and bring him to you. I don’t like that he keeps gunning for you, though. What if it’s a gun next time?”
I shake my head. “Lucas likes things personal. If he were going to kill me, it would be with a knife. Up close and messy.”
Soo shakes his head and pushes out of the chair. “I’ll leave you to your family drama. Just watch your back, all right?”
I cross the room and snag a tumbler from the bar. Liquor lines the shelf above it. I choose a bottle at random and fill the glass. It isn’t even ten a.m., but I don’t care. Lucas is driving me to drink as if I were…
I cut off the thought as anger sizzles through me. The glass in my hand is the buffer to the world I’m craving. Instead of drinking, I throw it across the room and watch it shatter as it slams against the fireplace mantle.
I’m not my father. I’m not Lucas. And I sure as shit deserve every bit of respect I’ve scraped together in this life. If Lucas doesn’t learn that lesson soon, he’s going to find himself in the cold, or worse, dead.
Could I really do it? Kill my little brother? I want to say no since we’ve both already lost so much in life, but my need for revenge outweighs everything else.
My eyes catch on the liquor that runs down the wall in amber rivulets, and I watch its path until the droplets fade away. Then I sit down behind my desk again, gather the paperwork I’d been studying, and get back to work like nothing ever happened. An illegal auction in our city takes careful planning, especially when every law enforcement agency in the country is already on my ass.
An illegal auction to sell one of the five families’ little princesses will take every single bit of cunningness I have to pull it off. And I can’t wait to leave every one of those bastards trembling in their beds, wondering who my next target will be.
11
Celia
It seems my lack of fighting at dinner helped my case. When I wake up, my door is unlocked. A quick dash in the hallway proves my freedom only goes so far. Goons guard every exit I find on my trek from the bedroom to the kitchen.
My wardrobe options now include one dirty button-down shirt and one scandalous black bandage dress. I opt to wear the shirt to eat breakfast; I call it a win when I sit at the counter in the kitchen and find a plate heaped with scrambled eggs.
So overjoyed, I don’t even glare at the kitchen staff while I shovel food into my mouth. As expected, it tastes delicious, and I’m equally happy I didn’t have to cook them myself. A girl can only handle so many burnt meals.
“Chop, chop! We need to get on with the house chores,” Sarah quips, walking into the kitchen.
I shovel the remainder of eggs on my plate into my mouth and wash it down with the last of my orange juice.
“Okay…” I move from my seat and take my dish to the sink.
Sarah gives me a look as if she can’t believe I would touch a dirty dish or fold a single towel. I’m sure some hate doing house chores, which is why they hire maids and such. Plus, it’s not like I have anything else to occupy my time here. At least it gives me a better glimpse of the house and any possible exits.
Sarah shows me into the laundry room. It looks like something that belongs in a hotel instead of a private residence. How many people live here? So far, I’d only seen the kitchen staff and his cast of guards.
Sarah loads me up with stacks of fresh linens and draws me a very rudimentary map to the rooms I need to change.
I can’t remember the last time I changed a set of sheets, but I’m not telling her that. I trudge back up the stairs, a little shocked that there isn’t a guard tailing me. The first room I enter looks very similar to my room. The only difference being the color palette. The bed is already made, but I throw back the covers and quickly change out the sheets. Now armed with a stack of clean sheets and a bundle of dirty sheets, I’m not sure what to do. I decide to take them with me to the next room because leaving them behind seems redundant.
In the next room, I enter slowly, so I can study the layout. It’s obvious someone lives in this room, and by the clean lines and dark tones, I have a feeling I know who it belongs to. His presence isn’t advertised. There aren’t any framed photos on the dresser, but the entire room holds his intense energy like a box sealed tight. As if it leaks from his body to soak into the walls.
Would he notice if I stole a couple more shirts? I eye the closet but decide against entering it. No doubt, he would consider it a debt between us if I took any. And I don’t need to dig myself a deeper hole with this man. I need to find a way to escape.
His bedding is tucked tight, as if a soldier or a doctor made it. I fear messing with it, but I still have several more rooms to finish before Sarah hunts me down with more chores. The deep navy blue covers match perfectly to the subtly patterned sheets beneath. I peel back the layers and replace the sheet with fresh white ones.
I told myself I wouldn’t snoop if I found Nicolo’s room, but faced with the possibility of gaining any type of information about him, I can’t resist. His furnishings are devoid of clutter. A small box containing a couple of watches and an array of cufflinks sits on top of his dresser. Inside, his clothing is perfectly folded and organized in immaculate rows. Did he do this or the staff? It takes control to an entirely new level.
I skirt the edge of the bed and fuss with arranging the already perfect covers. His bedside table has a gold locket sitting so far back on its surface, I didn’t even notice it until the overhead light glinted off it. A delicate chain wound in a perfect loop cups a little gold heart locket. On the top of it, the initials DAC are engraved. Gently, I trace my finger over the letters that are engraved into the worn metal. It’s as if it has been rubbed and buffed multiple times over the years.
A family heirloom, maybe?
It’s delicate, and my fingers tremble as I flip it open, only to find nothing inside the little heart frame. Disappointed, I click it closed and suddenly feel as if I’ve violated his privacy. I shove the guilt away as quickly as it comes. The man is holding me prisoner, for fuck’s sake.
The chain slides between my fingers and gets tangled. I gently pry it loose, careful not to pull the delicate links, when a voice behind me says, “What are you doing in here?”
I jolt so hard I drop the necklace onto the side table and stumble into the edge of the bed.
Turning, I press my hands to my chest to stop my heart from leaping out of my chest. The mean one, Lucas, is standing in the doorframe, leaning against it casually. How long has he been watching me? I don’t bother to ask because I truly don’t care. I don’t want to have a conversation with him.
Turning my attention back to the locket, I scoop the necklace up again, hoping he didn’t see me looking at it. That’s all I need, for him to tell Nicolo I’d been rummaging through his belongings.
I clear my throat and answer, “I was just changing the sheets. Sarah drew me a map of the rooms I’m supposed to hit.”
His eyes narrow in a suspecting way, like he knows I’m full of shit. “You were looking at something. What was it?”
Fuck. I clutch my hand tighter around the locket and try not to fidget too much to draw his attention to it, but it’s pointless. He already knows. Fear trickles down my spine like a slow-moving creek while anticipation builds in my gut on what his next move will be. In the blink of my eyes, he pushes off the door and stalks across the polished hardwood, snagging my hand mid-motion. My heart skips a full beat, and my lungs seize up.
His fingers squeeze tight around the pressure point in my wrist, and I let out a loud yelp.
“You’re hurting me!” My voice cracks, but the words do nothing to deter him.
“You’re hiding something. Drop it,” he growls through his teeth. The pressure on my wrist becomes too much, so I
have no choice but to release the secret tucked into my palm.
Instinct tells me to explain myself, so I lick my dried lips and tell him, “It’s not what you think. I wasn’t stealing it or hiding it.”
Deftly, he catches the necklace to keep it from falling to the floor. Then he shoves my aching arm away as if my skin has burned him.
His big fingers dwarf the piece of jewelry, and I watch him study it, all while easing backward and away from him. This man is unstable, and I don’t want to be within his reach if he lashes out.
“It was our mother’s,” he says, lifting his gaze to mine. His dark eyes are large and unblinking, as if he fears never seeing it again.
I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want an audience, so I tiptoe toward the door but barely make it a few steps before he pounces on me and drags me back by the same—no doubt bruised now—wrist. “I didn’t say you can leave.”
“I just wanted to give you some privacy,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage through the icy chill that now owns the space.
“Is every single word you utter complete bullshit, or do you tell the truth on occasion too?”
I attempt to jerk my hand back, but he maintains his tight grip. The hard edge of his tone is one I recognize from him accosting me twice now. Even as afraid as I am of him, I don’t want to be seen as a pushover. I stand tall and straighten my spine.
“What do you want me to say? I don’t want to be within two feet of you because I know you’re counting the seconds until you can kill me. I’m pretty sure the only reason I’m alive right now is because Nicolo intends to use me for some purpose that may, or may not, include selling me to make a lot of money.”
He shifts and gently places the locket on the bedside table, letting the locket hit the dark wood before slowly lowering the chain on top of it to obscure the engraving. It’s an act of patience, of mercy, of love. So at odds with his collage of tattoos and menacing demeanor. I don’t even know Lucas, but I do know he is violence and rage wrapped up with a tight bow.
