Beautiful Hell: The Mafia and His Maiden: Book One

by Wanitta Praks

  I found a space at the corner of the closet. I quickly hid there, just in time to see Lorenzo walking into the bathroom, wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist.

  Oh no. Not again. I didn’t want to have to see him naked again.

  I clamped my mouth shut, trying not to utter a sound, afraid he would hear me. He was oblivious as he walked past me, stopped, and threw the towel over the railing.

  Lorenzo was completely naked. I was shell-shocked; I couldn’t react in time, my eyes now fixated on his body.

  He really was a sight to behold, an epitome of virile masculine beauty. No matter how dangerous he was as a person, I still needed to give him credit for his beautiful physical appearance. Those arms and legs were packed solid with muscles and his six-pack abs…

  I was still holding my breath as I watched him walk into the shower. I watched as he scrubbed himself, with no mercy for his skin. I watched as the water trickled down his skin, like a lover embracing him, before swirling down the drain and disappearing. He made a slight move and I lost sight of him, before he turned back, and I got a full view of his front.

  I snapped my eyes shut, my breathing coming out harshly. And my dream from that night came back in full force, flashing through my mind like a neon light at night. My hands were that water, touching him, caressing him, feeling him up, because I was his lover.

  I snapped my eyes open again, my hand going to rest at my throat. This was wrong on so many levels. I shouldn’t be here spying on him. I had clearly invaded his privacy.

  I have to get out of here. That was my initial thought. Until I heard grunting sounds and turned to see him.

  The sight of Lorenzo stroking himself had me transfixed to the spot. He moved slowly at first, then went faster, his hand fisting up and down his length with brutal force. My breathing grew heavier, just as his hand increased in speed.

  He rocked on his heels, his lips harshly grunting and groaning, his eyes rolling back with lust. I knew he was nearing the end of it, and my body reacted to his actions. I was aroused.

  I shut my eyes again, hoping that it would help ease the throbbing between my legs, but it didn’t help one bit. The throbbing increased in tempo and my heart sped up. He had an undeluded effect on me, and I now knew why I had been having these symptoms. My strange dream of him kissing me, of him making love to me, these were just signs telling me I was attracted to him.

  The realization almost knocked me out. I bit my lip, not wanting to acknowledge my new reality, but that was the way it was. Why else would I dream of him, think of him, and even go to his room when it was already dark. I was attracted to him.

  This knowledge scared me. Of all men, why did it have to be Lorenzo?

  I opened my eyes just in time to see the finale. Lorenzo stroked his shaft one last time, then gave out a loud roar. Jets of his release shot into the air before washing away down the drain. Then all went quiet.

  I gave myself an extra few minutes, just to make sure my body had returned to normal, then thinking that Lorenzo had finished showering and left the bathroom, I took the courage to creep out of my hiding spot. Seeing that the shower stall was empty, I smiled in relief.

  Lorenzo was gone. That was until I turned my head and ran smack-dab into his hard-steel chest. Lifting my face up, I locked eyes with him.

  “What are you doing here?” he growled, snatching my arm and dragging me into the shower stall, caging me against the wall in the process.

  Oh God, not again. My heart ramped up and my breathing grew heavier. My eyes became glassy and everything around me became nothing but a blur. Except for Lorenzo’s face. He was as handsome as ever. But his jaws were clenched tight, as if he was stressed. I wanted to run my fingers along his jaw to ease the tension away. But Lorenzo was staring at me with fire in his eyes. I felt his wrath in waves. Yet I couldn’t help getting sucked into those eyes.

  No. I needed to escape from here. I was losing control of myself. I tried unclasping his hand from my arm, but Lorenzo wouldn’t let me have my way. He pinched my chin and jerked me back in his direction. Our eyes connected again, and at that point I had completely surrendered to the temptation.

  I was lost in my own world, marveling at how beautiful his eyes were, like a glass mirror that lured me into another dimension. I found myself wandering around in a field of greens, wending around rose bushes, while looking up to the beautiful cloudless blue sky above.

  Until he turned the shower nozzle and jerked me out of my dreamworld. The water sprayed into my face, blurring my image of him. I wiped my eyes and saw water dripping down his face and jaw. He was clenching his jaw, as if he was suppressing himself from something.

  “Lorenzo. Let me go.” I pushed at his chest, but he wouldn’t move an inch. I begged him again. “Please.”

  But he was also already in his own world as his eyes grew glassy. He rested his forehead against mine, looked into my eyes, and growled, “You have walked into the lion’s cage and you expect me to let you go? It doesn’t work that way, Amelia.”

  And he went in for the kill, kissing me savagely on my lips.

  Chapter 13

  Hot Under the Shower Part 2

  “You have walked into the lion’s cage and you expect me to let you go? It doesn’t work that way, Amelia,” Lorenzo growled at the woman who had tormented his soul for the past week. He watched her, his eyes fixated on everything about her.

  Did she feel this, this intensity between them? From the very first day he met her, he’d been denying the fact that he was attracted to her.

  Fury rushed through Lorenzo then, followed by a strong hit of lust. These emotions were what he had always experienced whenever he faced Amelia. And he didn’t like it one bit. Fury was fine, but lust was not. Sometimes these emotions got so intense, he had to disappear for days.

  He was thankful that work had kept him busy, and being busy had kept him sane, because he didn’t have time to think about her luscious curves, or those amber Bambi eyes staring back at him so innocently.

  Fuck innocent. Amelia was no innocent. She was a siren, experienced in the art of seduction. Like right now. What the fuck was she doing inside his bedroom? Just because he had asked her to manage his personal areas, he didn’t mean for her to parade inside his bedroom at this time of day, or night to be precise, since it was already nine in the evening.

  Was she trying to use the same trick she had tried on him like that first day? He remembered the situation very clearly. He had given her clear instructions to get dressed. And what did he find upon his return? She was half naked, displaying her perky breasts for him to see in full view. He had thought ten minutes was sufficient time to freshen up. But clearly, she had other intentions. She had waited until the last minute to pull her tactic. For what, so she could gain his sympathy through seduction?

  He couldn’t believe the gall of her. At least his past women didn’t mince around. They were honest. If they were interested in him, they told him so. And that was what he liked about them. But Amelia, she was in an entirely different league. She played the innocent maiden to a pro.

  So she wanted to play games, huh? Sure. Go right ahead. He was the master of hell. A woman like Amelia wouldn’t be able to light fire under his loins. Except she did. He’d been walking around with his cock standing at half-mast for the past three days.

  He was disgusted with himself for even having sexual interest in the very woman who had hurt his brother. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. She was supposed to be his victim. Not some sort of woman he adored and put on a pedestal.

  But that was exactly what he did. He’d left her here in his penthouse, the most prestigious residence in the neighborhood. No one stayed in his penthouse. No one stayed in that guest bedroom. Period. The only time he ever took a woman to his penthouse was only to fuck, but they had never stayed the night.

  He didn’t know what he was thinking when he dumped her here. He must be out of his fucking mind. So, fuck adoration and fuck love. Lov
e didn’t exist in his world. Only family did. And Amelia had stolen that away from him, too.

  Lorenzo knew he was mindfucking himself. Although he didn’t love her, he did lust for her. And if he kept saying no, he was in denial. Any man would be an idiot if he didn’t feel a shred of desire for her. Amelia was made to fuck. She had all the right body proportions, long legs that went on for miles, perfect for fucking when those legs were wrapped around his neck. And those lips. Did she pout those lips just to get his attention? She was shorter than him, but he wasn’t average height either, standing at over six feet tall.

  When they stood pressed to each other, it was perfect. And right now, what he wanted more than anything was to feel her plump lips on him. And he wanted it now. He took it, savagely kissing her to his heart’s content.

  This was magic, this was…

  She was kissing him back. She was fucking kissing him back, her hands coming to grip his hair, fisting it with her fingers, tugging him, as if telling him to kiss her more.

  She was a fucking seductress, and he complied, molding his lips to seal with hers, teeth, tongue, lips, kissing her, until she almost collapsed on him. He pinned her arms to the wall, stabilizing her. And as he pulled back and their lips disconnected, he saw her eyes, gazing softly at his cock.

  He watched her expression, her eyes lighting up with a kind of fascination he found only women who wanted him had. And he wanted her back. Just as much.

  Fuck, this wasn’t supposed to be happening. Remember who she was. She’s the woman who fucking hurt your brother.

  But he couldn’t help himself at that moment. She enticed him and he was so fucking aroused. His cock hardened like a spear, and it was pointing at her. He watched as she poked her tongue out and licked her lips, and oh fucking God, that image had him imagining wild thoughts. In his mind’s eye, he saw Amelia going down on her knees, and with both of his hands, he guided her to his cock. She waited patiently with her mouth open, just as he slipped it into her soft, warm mouth. And then he gripped her head, guiding her with the right speed as she pumped his cock with her mouth, licking and sucking—

  The image was so intense he was shaking. He took his hands and started fisting himself, with Amelia in plain sight. She was trapped against the wall, watching him with vivid clarity. As she watched him, he continued to watch her, mesmerized at the way her eyes lit up.

  He liked it. He fucking liked it that she was so fascinated by his action and he felt proud of himself somehow that someone took pleasure in the way he pleasured himself.

  He kept fisting himself, his hand pumping up and down until he couldn’t take it anymore, and he roared and shot out his release. The climax was so intense, he lost sense of time and space. When he finally came back to his senses, he realized he was resting his forehead against her.

  Amelia was as still as a statue, the only things telling him that she was alive was her flushed cheeks and her heavy breathing.

  Was she as affected as he was?

  He watched as she fluttered her eyes, her thick lashes catching droplets of water. She had such beautiful amber eyes, so large and alluring, it was almost like she was a water nymph out to seduce him. She was just so fucking beautiful, it fucking scared him. This was wrong. So fucking wrong. Why was he feeling this way about her? She was supposed to be his culprit, not his fucking lover.

  “Show’s over. Get out,” he shouted at her. He was mad at himself for wanting her.

  Amelia didn’t wait another second. She dashed out of the shower stall and out of his sight. He heard the door to the room across the hall bang shut. She must have locked herself inside her room again.

  Good. She was smart. Because right now, he didn’t trust himself not to go after her and fuck the hell out of her.

  He pushed himself off the wall and stayed inside the shower for a further ten minutes, turning on the water to cold. He needed to cool down. Even after that last release, he still felt restless. He admitted he was losing control of the façade he constructed. He didn’t know how long he was able to keep it up. Because Amelia was slowly breaking down his walls.

  Chapter 14

  Lonely

  Lorenzo chased after that feeling, of having a pair of amber eyes watching him, while he pumped himself to satisfaction. His toes curled and he collapsed back into bed, his body a sweaty mess. But that still didn’t satisfy him.

  Fuck!

  How long could he go on like this? Even after releasing himself in the shower, it still didn’t help him one bit. Images of Amelia kept bombarding his mind.

  He cleaned himself up and got back to bed. As soon as he hit the pillow and closed his eyes, he saw her again, this time smiling softly, and his heart kicked back into gear, competing against the speed of a bullet train.

  Fuck this! He gave up. He made his way to the kitchen, raided the fridge, found half a bottle of purified water and chugged the whole thing down. The light of the full moon caught his attention. He moved to stand near the floor-to-ceiling window, viewing New York City at this time of night.

  New York City was beautiful, but he was itching to go back to his private residence in Chicago. He never planned to stay this long, but work had kept him busy, and he wanted to make sure everything at headquarters ran smoothly before escaping back to his home in the forest.

  Lorenzo almost laughed at that thought. If people didn’t know him as the big boss of Lorenzo Corp, or the head mafia of the Lorenzo clan, they might have thought he was some hermit.

  But that was what he felt like sometimes. There was too much noise in the world. He just wanted to escape for a few weeks and collect himself. He loved the occasional social function, and what life as an elite had offered him, but he still missed being surrounded by nature. He missed running through his rose farm, with the wind whistling in his ears and the birds singing to him in the early morning hours. He missed watching the morning sun slowly lighting up the forest from his bedroom window. He could see it here too, through his office window, but it was not the same. Social life drained him. Being with nature recharged him. And right now, he missed those feelings so much.

  His thoughts turned back to Amelia. He didn’t know how long he could keep her locked up here, too. She didn’t complain, but he knew she was beginning to get restless.

  He reeled that thought back. He was surprised with himself for even worrying about her well-being. Shouldn’t he be pleased she was in this state? That was the entire reason he brought her here. He had constructed the perfect hell for her, a hell that existed in her mind. She was imprisoned here, with no power and no free will, forced to obey every single instruction he demanded of her.

  He wanted her to suffer, to degrade her, to break her, until she had experienced what hell was like, but even with all the horrible stuff he did to her, she still had a smile on her face, and he fucking hated it because it meant she wasn’t affected by his actions, and it meant he had failed epically in his goal of achieving revenge.

  Lorenzo was about to head back to bed when he heard a soft cry coming from Amelia’s room. Without realizing what he was doing, he went into her room. He told himself he was only checking on her. But as soon as he saw her, lying in bed with tears flowing down her cheeks, something inside him moved.

  Like a magnet being pulled in, he went to her. He stood there watching her as she cried in her sleep, fat teardrops flowing down her cheeks. She slowly opened her eyes, her amber pupils hazy and glassy.

  “Papa. Is that you?”

  Was she hallucinating, thinking he was her father?

  He reached out to touch her forehead. Her skin was hot and clammy.

  She grabbed his hands and wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face in his chest. “Papa. Please don’t go.”

  She had a fever. He extracted her arms from around his torso and went to collect Tylenol, a bottle of water, and some wet towels. He came back, cradling her into a seated position and forced her to take the medicine, then some water. Laying her back in bed, he used
the wet cloth to wipe her forehead, face, and arms to help cool her down.

  He told himself that this was the best he could do. He’d wait for the medicine to kick in, and then he would leave. But something she said caught his attention.

  “I’m sorry for causing that accident, Papa.” She sobbed in his arms, hugging him so fiercely, as if afraid he’d disappear. “I didn’t mean to hurt Jenny. I didn’t mean to make Mama die.”

  Did something happen to Amelia during her childhood? Did she kill her own mother? Lorenzo was shocked to hear the revelation. Whatever she had gone through, it must have caused a major impact in her life now, as she kept on apologizing. “I’m so sorry, Papa. Please don’t leave me. I’m so lonely here. I don’t want to be alone.”

  The word lonely struck a chord inside him and he found himself sliding under the bedsheet beside her, nestling her head at the crook of his neck while he circled her waist and cooed her to sleep.

  “Amelia,” he softly said, threading his fingers through her hair to calm her down. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to be alone anymore. I’ll be here with you.”

  She seemed to find comfort in his words. She calmed down and he watched her drift off to sleep.

  Lorenzo had a decision to make. Amelia had broken down his walls, and he didn’t think he could continue to act like a heartless bastard to her again. But right now, he needed sleep. He realized he was tired, and sleep was pulling him in. With Amelia comfortably nestled in his arms, he, too, drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 15

  Nightmare

  I walked to the headmistress’ office, my belly churning with nerves. I was scared. When Mrs. Grayfield told me to go see Mrs. Somerson, our headmistress, I knew I must have done something wrong, because I had never been summoned to the headmistress’ office before.