by Bella King
I take a breath, holding it to calm myself, but Cora starts to move on her own, rocking back and forth on my cock, juices sliding down the sides of my shaft as she moans, completely consumed by the pleasure that she’s feeling. She’s in her won world, selfishly enjoying my cock as I stand still and get hit by the strongest orgasm I’ve ever had.
I have to grab Cora’s hips to steady myself as energy rising from my feet to my pelvis, driving the first stake into the consummation of her and I’s future marriage. I explode inside of her, pumping more semen than I knew I had into her. My body knows things that I do not, and it seems to be desperate to get her pregnant.
I toss my head back, thrusting myself balls deep in her ripe peach, pumping more and more of my sperm into her body. Cora is riding along, moaning, and bouncing with newfound energy as she drains me of my lifeforce. Have I conquered her, or is it she who has conquered me? I’m leaning toward the latter.
I lean forward again, falling over her and shuddering as my body falls from grace. This is everything I wanted and more. I’m beyond satisfied. If someone were to tell me now that I would never accomplish anything else that I set out to do, I wouldn’t even be upset. Nothing could be better than this.
I pull out of Cora, and she slips out from underneath me, crawling into the bed and curling up in a perfect ball, waiting for my arrival. She looks too flawless to disturb, but her warm flesh call to me. I can think of nothing better but than to sleep with her, holding her as close as I can and keeping her safe in my arms.
As I join Cora in the bed, wrapping my arms around her, she lets out a gentle moan, scooting up to me and accepting my cuddles without a second thought. I close my eyes and inhale the intoxicating smell of her hair as I quickly begin to fall asleep.
I’ll never let any harm come to Cora. Ever. She’s everything to me now. I never thought that it would end up like this, but fate has plans for me that I could never predict. I have to accept that for what it is now and vow to keep her from harm’s way.
Goodnight, my darling Cora. You’re marvelous.
Chapter Twenty
Cora
I lay in bed with the morning sun spilling through the thin white curtains of the master bedroom. Viktor is beside me, looking as angelic as can be, his mouth slightly agape as he snores gently against the pillow. Everything is perfect, and then, in a split second, it turns to chaos.
The sharp crack of the window is the first sign that something is very wrong. The second sign is the hole in the wall across from the bed that appears with a loud thud. White paint flies from the wall as the projectile that broke through the window embeds itself into the plaster.
I jolt upright, looking toward the window. There’s a hole in it with cracks running around it like the fractal patterns of tree roots. A second hole appears as I watch the glass, the unmistakable mark of a bullet.
“Get down,” Viktor barks, jumping toward me and pushing me from the bed.
I topple onto the floor, hitting my elbows on the rug and sliding across it far enough to get rugburn. Considering the circumstances, I’d say that’s a fair price to pay for not getting a bullet through my skull.
Viktor leaps down from the bed, his body covering mine as several more shots ring through the window and hit the wall above our hunched bodies. It feels unreal. We were just making love, then gently sleeping together with such celestial peace. How could this be happening?
“Fucking bastards,” Viktor growls, rolling off me and slinking to the dresser. He yanks open the bottom drawer and pulls out a rifle, then slink back to me. “We need to leave.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice cracking with fear.
“No time to explain, sweetheart,” Viktor says as he yanks me out of the room.
I should have protested this marriage more. I shouldn’t have agreed to this when I knew something was wrong with Viktor. This wouldn’t happen if he was a normal politician. Nobody was ever shooting into the estate when my father or I was there.
It’s a little late for regrets now, though. There are bullets zinging around over our heads as Viktor drags me down the hallway. I normally need coffee to feel this awake. I guess that’s one perk of living with Viktor now. The mornings don’t disappoint.
I can smell the tension in the air as Viktor flings me through another doorway into the kitchen.
“Wait here,” he barks, pulling the magazine from his rifle and checking if it’s loaded. The shiny brass rounds glint in the sun rolling through the small window above the sink. Thankfully, it’s still unbroken.
“What am I supposed to do?” I ask, trying to grab him as he scurries off back down the hall.
“Stay down,” he says, then disappears.
“What the fuck,” I mutter to myself, standing up straight and looking around the kitchen. If someone is trying to kill us, then I need a weapon too. I spot a few knife handles sticking out of a wooden block on the counter, so I go over and pull one out.
Glass bits fly out from over my head, sprinkling down on my bare shoulders as I yelp and duck back down. Stay down, he said. I wasn’t listening, but I sure as hell am now.
I make myself small in the corner of the kitchen next to the fridge, hoping that the thick metal body of it will save me from any bullets that manage to make their way through the wall. Viktor, that idiot. He should have put bulletproof glass in this house. Now, I’m going to die before I can strangle his stupid ass.
I cower in the corner as more glass breaks away from the kitchen window. Fuck, where the hell did Viktor run off to? I thought he said he was going to protect me.
Never mind him. I need to get out of here before I end up with more holes than a slice of swiss cheese.
I jump to my feet and dart out of the door, carrying the large kitchen knife far enough out in front of me that I would impale anyone who jumped in my way unexpectantly. What I wouldn’t give to be sitting on my porch again, locked away from the world with an overpriced iced coffee in my hand. The world is a lot crueler on the outside.
I spot a lounge robe hanging over the back of the couch in the living room. I snatch it off and wrap the black silk around my body. It’s a little too big for me, but it’s better than dying naked and exposed. I don’t want to be humiliated like that.
I scan the rest of the room for anything that I can use to protect myself, but aside from a thin metal tray that most certainly won’t catch bullets and a fire poker that would be less useful than the knife I already have, there’s nothing of interest.
I hear footsteps charging down the hallway, and the loud sound of gunshots as someone fires dangerously close to where I am. I duck down behind the couch, unsure as to whether I’ll have the heart to slice someone’s neck if it came down to it.
Thankfully, I don’t have to think about it for too long. The man who comes through the doorway isn’t a psycho killer about to pump me full of lead. It’s Viktor, and he’s wearing pants now.
“Is that what you left for?” I ask, springing up from behind the couch to scold him.
“I don’t want anyone shooting my dick off, Cora. I hang pretty low,” he says, pulling the slide back on the rifle and flinging out an empty bullet casing.
“You’re a fucking moron, Viktor. Tell me what the fuck is going on,” I yell. Normally, I don’t use such foul language, but the situation calls for me to be taken seriously, and I believe this is the only way that Viktor will.
He laughs, his eyes wide with crazed excitement. It almost looks like he’s enjoying this. “We’re under attack.”
“Obviously,” I say, clenched my teeth together as I speak. “Who is attacking us?”
“People that don’t like me,” he replies.
He’s vague, as usual, and it’s driving me mad. I don’t see why he can’t just come out and tell the truth. Even the threat of death isn’t enough to turn him into an honest man.
“Tell me the truth, Viktor. Who are you?” I demand, waving the knife at him.
He steps ba
ck. “Woah, keep that thing pointed somewhere else.”
“Answer my goddamn question,” I say, steady the knife in his direction, the sharp tip pointing between his eyes.
“I’m Viktor Kazakov,” he says, a cocky grin spreading on his face.
“I know your fucking name. Give me answers!” I wave my knife at him again. “You’re not a politician. How did you convince my father to let you marry me?”
“Now really isn’t the time for that,” Viktor says, his smile fading. “I need to get you out of here.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you talk,” I say, planting my feet firmly into the floor, intending to stab the bastard if he tries to pick me up and drag me out of here.
I’m pissed off, and I don’t get pissed off easily. My blood is a thousand degrees, and my ears are bright pink. I’m trembling, half because I’m scared shitless, and the other half because I’m just so fucking made at Viktor. I feel as though he has betrayed me.
“It’s too much to explain now,” Viktor says, his voice pleading for me to give in, but he’s out of luck. I’m not letting him win this one.
“I’ll die here, and you’ll have some serious explaining to do to my father. He’ll have your head,” I threaten.
“Your father would never find me. I would vanish back to Russia without a trace,” he says proudly.
“Aha, so you are Russian. I knew you were,” I say, taking the small victory. Baby steps toward the truth are better than nothing at all.
Viktor rolls his eyes. “That much should be obvious.”
“But you told me otherwise, and you even have a US passport. So, you’re a criminal as well as an imposter.”
“Big deal,” Viktor replies with a shrug. “All politicians are. There’s not a single one that didn’t lie their way into office. I just took a less conventional route to get there.”
“But you’re not there yet,” I say, shaking my head and wrinkling my nose at him. “You still have to marry me first.”
“And I will if we make it out of this alive,” Viktor says.
“Don’t bet on marriage after this,” I say, lowering the knife. “But I want you to take me to safety.”
“Marriage is your safety, Cora. By now, my enemies know that we’re together. The only place you’ll be safe is with me,” Viktor explains.
“You’re such a liar. I’d be safer at the estate.”
“The Lauder Estate is crawling with rats,” Viktor says loudly, waving his rifle in the air. “They will kill you in an instant if you return. I’m sorry I had to drag you into this mess, but you’re ultimately safer with me.”
I don’t know whether to believe him, but at this point, I’m facing almost certain death if I try to get out of his house alone. I need Viktor, at least for now. Once we’re safe, I’ll decide what to do about him.
“Let’s go,” Viktor says, waving his hand and stepping toward the opposite door to which he came from.
I follow him, still clutching the knife in my hand so tightly that my flesh might split down the knuckle as we slip through the door into another hallway.
“Get back,” Viktor shouts just as I walk through the doorway, slinging his rifle off his shoulder and cracking a shot down the hall.
It’s at this moment that I get my first glimpse at the enemy. A tall man in a suit fires back down the hall before returning to his hiding spot behind a large china cabinet. He looks Italian and far too well dressed to be a normal criminal. The only indication that he’s not a white-collar worker is the bulletproof vest strapped to his torso and the silver revolver in his hand.
I crouch about a foot behind Viktor as he riddles the china cabinet with bullet holes, trying to get a hit on the man. “Die, motherfucker,” Viktor growls as he empties the entire magazine into the cabinet, sending splinters of expensive dark wood flying in all directions.
A body falls from behind the cabinet as the smoke rises from the end of Viktor’s rifle. A bulletproof vest isn’t enough to protect someone from Viktor’s wrath.
Viktor drops the magazine to the floor and pulls another out of the pocket of his slacks. That explains his run back to the bedroom, at least. I’m glad that we still have ammunition left to load into the guts of our attackers, but I’m still a bit peeved at him for leaving me alone like that. I could have been killed when the bullets cracked through the kitchen window.
“Take the gun,” Viktor says, pointing to the revolver that lays loosely in the dead man’s hand.
My stomach drops as I realize I’ll have to get near the dead man to do that. “Can you hand it to me?” I ask, unwilling to touch a corpse.
Viktor rolls his eyes and stomps over to the man, snatching the pistol out of his hand and thrusting it out to me by the stubby barrel. “Don’t kill anyone unless you’re sure they’re Malaugurio,” he says, rolling his R.
“What’s that?” I ask, taking the gun from his hand. It’s still warm from the man he just killed.
“Italian mafia. Malaugurio means Bad Omen. I might owe them money,” he replies casually.
“You owe the mafia money?” I ask in surprise. This is a lot heavier than I first thought.
“I am the mafia, darling,” he replies, showing his teeth with a crooked smile. “We just don’t get along well with the Italians gangs, aside from Valivonia. They’re settled up in Chicago right now. Maybe we should pay them a visit.”
“Are you nuts? I’m not going to marry into the mafia,” I exclaim, dumbfounded that he’s telling me all of this right before the marriage.
“We’ll see about that,” Viktor mutters, turning down the hall and marching onward.
I scoot past the Malaugurio man on the floor, sending a prayer that he’s forgiven for whatever evil he has done. I believe that even mafia men can be forgiven. I hope that Viktor is when the time comes. As much as I hate what he has dragged me into, I can’t say that I don’t have feelings for him. In all the fakeness, the romance between us is still very real.
Chapter Twenty-One
Viktor
Cora is never going to marry me after this. Curse the Malaugurio. May they rot in the hottest hell imaginable. This is not the time to collect unpaid debts, and this certainly isn’t the proper way to do it. I was going to pay them back like I said… eventually.
Cora’s father is the whole reason I had to borrow money from those bastards in the first place. Five million, I can do, but eleven is too steep, even for a wealthy man like myself. I have other costs to cover, such as paying my guards, keeping operations moving in Russia while I’m overseas, and having a house built for Cora and me to live in. It’s not cheap being a mafia boss.
My frustration with this bullshit is starting to get to me. I emptied out an entire clip into the china cabinet that the suited thug was hiding behind instead of biding my time and saving bullets by luring him out for a single shot to the head. Being liberal with my ammunition may render Cora and me helpless if more of the men come too quickly. I only have one more magazine in my pocket to spare.
Cora is behind me, toting a silver single-action revolver that I doubt she knows how to use properly. The nice thing about single-action revolvers is that they’re stupidly simple to use. All she needs to do is aim and pull the trigger, unlike a double-action where she would have to cock it back first. It’s not the shooting part that I’m concerned about, though. It’s the aiming part.
“Keep that thing pointed up or to the side until you see someone,” I say over my shoulder, making sure she doesn’t put a bullet in my spine by accident.
“I’m not stupid,” he replies, bitterness saturating her tongue.
I know she’s angry with me, and I can’t rightfully blame her, but I did what I needed to do. Maybe I did it improperly, but I would never get to hold office in the United States if I didn’t bribe Jonathan Lauder.
Love always manages to escape me, one way or another. Either it’s by betrayal or by the dangers of the mafia lifestyle, but I can’t seem to avoid it. Even with Co
ra, who I can’t stop developing feelings for, I suspect that this might be what tears the fabric of our budding relationship apart. I wanted better for us, but instead, I got karma for my actions.
I might now have time to wallow in regret if I don’t make it out of this place alive. I have no idea where Dimitri is, and I can still hear bullets flying through windows in an attempt to pick me off before I can even leave the house.
I lead Cora toward the sauna, a place where I doubt the Malaugurio will have invaded yet. There’s nothing they would perceive as valuable there, and that’s exactly why I chose it for my escape route. There’s a tunnel that goes under the house and leads out into a water pipeline that ultimately empties into the wastewater treatment plant five miles south of here.
It would be a long way to get to the plant, especially with all the waste flowing between our legs, but thankfully, we can escape through a drainage grate on the side of the road. From there, I should be able to call us a ride and figure out where we’re going to go from there.
“I thought we were leaving,” Cora says as I push open the door to the sauna changing room.
“We are,” I answer, failing to give her much more of an explanation. Right now, it’s better for me to get us out than to waste time explaining everything to her. She like to ask questions.
“Oh my god, Viktor,” Cora shouts from behind me as I make quick strides toward the sauna door.
I turn my head to witness Cora pulling the trigger of her revolver at Dimitri, who rolls out of the way before she can kill him. Thank god Cora can’t aim, or she would have killed my right-hand man.
“Jesus, Cora. That’s Dimitri. Put the fucking gun down,” I shout at her.
Dimitri looks like he may have shit himself, and Cora lowers her gun, looking guilty. “I didn’t know. He just came out of nowhere.”
Dimitri laughs nervously as he puts distance between himself and Cora. “I was here waiting for you two to come. I couldn’t make it out to the car. This place is crawling with fucking Malaugurio.”
