Falling for the Forbidden: 10 Full-Length Novels

by Jessica Hawkins

  “How did this happen?”

  “Got my kneecap shot away by one of our rivals,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “And this?” I stroke his hip.

  “Baseball bat.”

  “And this?” As I’m about to cup his cheek, he catches my hand.

  “Shrapnel. Explosion. A debtor tried to blow us up with the building where he was laundering the money he stole from us.”

  “Did he survive?”

  He gives me a forced smile. “What do you think?”

  “Have you ever considered having it fixed?” I ask as gently as I can.

  He replies in a cold voice. “This is fixed.”

  Horror, not because of the ugliness, but because of the sadness, invades me. How did he look before, if this is after?

  He utters a small sigh. “My bones were crushed. Underneath the skin, there’s mostly metal. The risk of the muscles collapsing with more plastic surgery is too high.”

  I wrap my arms around his waist, holding him tight to me. Saying his mask of pain doesn’t bother me will only sound frivolous, even if it’s true.

  I rest my cheek on his chest. “Your foot?”

  All of his muscles go tense. It takes him several seconds before he relaxes under me again.

  Just when I thought he wasn’t going to tell me, he says, “My mother shot me.”

  I barely manage to swallow my gasp. “Why?”

  His tone is flat. “When I turned twelve, she gave me a gun and told me to shoot a man. I couldn’t.”

  A lump in my throat restricts my speaking. I can’t imagine the kind of childhood he had. A part of me relates to that and understands. There’s quiet accord between us as we hold and comfort each other, two damaged people with different scars.

  * * *

  It’s still dark when Gabriel wakes me with a kiss on the mouth. I stretch, feeling the roughness of his loving in the tenderness between my legs, even if he’s been as gentle as I guess he can be.

  “Good morning.” He nips my bottom lip.

  His cock is hard against my hip, a reminder of last night and of what I can have again.

  “Gabriel.” My voice is breathy.

  He chuckles. “If I weren’t so concerned about not letting you sleep enough, I would’ve been buried between your thighs an hour ago.”

  I shiver at the thought, desire making me wet.

  A shadow creeps into his eyes. “You have to go. Carly will be up soon.”

  It’s a logical comment, but it hurts, and that’s a surprise. Maybe it’s because creeping down the dark hallway like I have something to hide, like what I did with Gabriel belongs to the shadows, kills the emotional upsurge of last night.

  “You’re right.” I sit up, clutching the sheet to my breasts.

  Groping around under the sheets, I find my nightgown and underwear and pull them on. As I swing my feet off the bed, he grabs my arm. I pause, but I don’t look back at him. I’m scared he’ll see what I feel in my eyes. That I care.

  He kisses my shoulder and brushes his lips up the curve of my neck to my ear. When he releases me, I take it as my cue to leave. I close his bedroom door quietly behind me and glance down the hallway to make sure it’s clear before I sneak back to my room. The room looks empty and cold. Out of nowhere, I have an attack of inexplicable loneliness, followed by a bout of guilt because Oscar is sleeping alone on my pillow.

  I pick him up and hug him to my chest. “Poor baby. I’m sorry I left you all alone last night.”

  He purrs and rubs his face against my jaw, not halfway as unsettled as I am.

  * * *

  Gabriel

  There’s not much information in the country Anton can’t lay his hands on, so when he tells me Lambert Roos’ phone records have been wiped, I know the rat I smelled is real. I order Anton to dig into Lambert’s history, present and past, and to flag anything suspicious that comes up, especially pertaining to the Haynes family. Lambert did business with Marvin. I want to know why he stopped brokering the car cloning business after Marvin’s accident. I also want to know who Valentina’s rapist is, but I’ll have to get more information from her, a delicate situation I don’t look forward to. I already checked the police records. The family didn’t report her rape.

  My own research produced nothing helpful.

  The remainder of my time is dedicated to preparing for tonight’s dinner meeting. Despite her protests, I ship Carly off to Sylvia for the weekend. I don’t want her around for the dinner party, not with the guests Magda invited. We’ll be catering for the Ferreira drug cartel men, Jeremy, the owner, and his son and future heir, Diogo. It’s tough enough stomaching the political pawns Magda likes to entertain. I don’t like hosting drug thugs in our home, but Magda is wheeling a deal to open a new financing franchise in Westdene, the heart of Jeremy’s territory.

  From the minute they walk through the door, I dislike them. Jeremy has the close-set eyes of a crocodile who acts asleep to snatch his non-suspecting prey. He grabs my hand in a jovial shake, treating me like his long-lost son, while Diogo, a smooth, handsome man in his late twenties, gives me a measuring look that tells me he finds me too short, not in the literal sense, of course. He may be ten years younger than me and blessed with a whole body, but I have years of experience over him and a darkness he can’t begin to understand.

  They kiss Magda’s hand and accept the cocktails and hors d’oeuvres she offers in the lounge. Their chitchat and pretense at civility irritate me. If it was up to me, I would’ve cut through the bullshit and gotten to the point. We want exclusivity in their area. They want our money. Simple. We pay a kickback, and no other loan sharks get in. A deal also guarantees that we don’t fuck with them, and they don’t kill our men.

  Magda navigates through a whole family tree of questions about their wives, kids, grandmothers, and whatnot before she finally announces dinner is served. The tux I’m wearing for the occasion, these affairs being sordidly formal, is too hot. I hook a finger between my neck and the collar of my evening shirt and tug. The bowtie gives marginally, but I only breathe easier when Valentina walks into the room in her somber black dress and hair pulled back in a neat bun in the nape of her neck.

  I watch her unabashedly as she serves our starters. The curve of her neck is long and elegant. Her fingers are slender, but they serve with efficient and sure movements, not spilling a drop of the gazpacho soup. A smell of raspberry fills my nostrils as she brushes past me, the fabric of her dress touching my chair. She’s present in all of my senses, even in my thoughts with a memory of how her body surrendered to mine last night. My cock hardens. It’s a good thing we’re seated.

  It’s hard to tear my attention away from her, but I need to concentrate on the negotiation and the subtle nuances of the conversation. I’m good at reading body language. I may not say much, but if our partners try to fuck us over, I’m always the first to get the hunch. With difficulty, I return my attention to the people seated at the opposite side of the table, but as I lift my eyes, I notice the way Diogo stares at Valentina. Anger explodes in my body and courses through my veins. The only thing that prevents me from reaching over the table and drowning him in his bowl of soup is that Valentina leaves the room, cutting his ogling short. I can’t wait for this night to be over.

  Halfway through the main meal, we come to an agreement. The minute we shake hands on the deal, Magda’s tenseness evaporates. She becomes the engaging hostess she’s known for, drawing Jeremy into a friendly argument about the opposing rugby teams they support. Diogo asks for directions to the bathroom and excuses himself.

  The skin between my shoulder blades pinches. I push back my chair. “Excuse me. I’m going to check on dessert.”

  Magda shoots me a look, but I’m blind to the annoyance in her eyes. My soles are quiet in the carpeted hallway. In the entrance to the kitchen, I come to an abrupt halt. Valentina has her back pushed against the wall and a kitchen knife aimed at Diogo.

  Chapter Twelve

 
; Gabriel

  The knife in Valentina’s hand makes me see images that will haunt me forever. A million scenarios pop into my head. The thought of Valentina hurt or Diogo’s hands on her, pulls me from reason into a state of madness. In a flash, I pounce on Diogo, throwing him on the floor. I slam his face into the tiles and pin him down with my knees, my fists pounding into his ribs. The sounds of his strangled grunts and bone cracking aren’t enough. I want him to cough up blood until his lungs drown in it.

  “Gabriel!”

  Valentina’s voice pierces the ugly bubble of my rage. The piece of shit under me is struggling for his life. Slowly, I return to the distant part of humanity inside me, the little that’s left in my soul. Magda and Jeremy come running into the room, probably alarmed by Valentina’s scream.

  “What in God’s name?” Magda grabs my arm and tries to pull me off the man sprawled out on the floor.

  I shake her off, but it’s Valentina’s round, fearful eyes that beckon me to let the scumbag go.

  Getting to my feet, I adjust my jacket. “Get up, you son of a bitch.”

  “What the hell’s going on?” Jeremy takes Diogo by his shoulders to help him to his feet.

  Pulling him up is a struggle. It looks like he has trouble breathing. I must’ve knocked the wind out of him and broken a few ribs. His nose is bleeding from the blow on the tiles.

  Magda flutters around him like a hen. “Gabriel! Are you out of your mind?”

  I jab a finger at Diogo. “If you put a finger on her, asshole, you’re dead.”

  Magda and Jeremy turn their heads toward Valentina. She’s still standing with her back against the wall, her body trembling and her eyes fixed on Diogo.

  I take the knife from her hand and leave it on the counter. Lowering my head, I put us on eye level. “Look at me.” Once I have her undivided attention, I ask, “Did he touch you?” “No,” she whispers.

  Magda starts speaking, but I cut her short. “What did he do?”

  “He wanted to–to…”

  She doesn’t have to say it. I know men like Diogo. I know the things they want to do. I turn to Diogo with cold calculation. “If I didn’t walk in here, what were you going to do?”

  He spits blood from a split lip on the floor. “Have myself some fun. She’s only a maid, for

  Christ’s sake.”

  My voice is soft, but my anger carries in my tone. “That gives you the right to assault the people living under my roof, the people I protect?”

  “Hold on, son.” Jeremy steps between us, his palms raised. “You’re not going to risk our newly forged relationship over a maid, are you?”

  I turn my vengeance on the old man. “She’s not just a maid. She’s property.”

  Jeremy knows what that means. In his and my world, property is more untouchable than a man’s wife. You may fuck someone else’s wife and pray you don’t get caught, but you don’t lay a finger on another man’s property without accepting that you’re going to get your hand chopped off.

  “Whoa.” He utters a nervous laugh. “Honest mistake. Diogo didn’t know. We’re used to helping ourselves, if you know what I mean.”

  “Are you insulting me by insinuating my house is a brothel?”

  “Jeremy,” Magda takes his arm, “your son needs medical attention. I’ll cover all the costs, of course. I do apologize for this unfortunate misunderstanding.”

  It’s a subtle way of telling him to leave. Magda knows me too well. I’m a lunatic, and right now, I’m about as stable as an active volcano.

  Jeremy frees his arm. “Let’s go, Diogo.”

  Diogo sneers at me as he passes, clutching his side. He should’ve just carried on walking, but the mistake he makes is to turn back in the doorway.

  “You know what your problem is, honey?” he says to Valentina. “You’re too damn pretty. It’s a shame you’re also a prude. I think you would’ve enjoyed it if I’d jumped you against the wall.”

  Just like that, my frayed control unravels. Magda grabs for the hem of my jacket as I lurch forward and catch the cocksucker around the neck. Jeremy is cussing and trying to pull my arms away from his son, but not a hundred horses are enough to tear me away. I drag him by his scrawny neck to Valentina and force him down on his knees at her feet. I grab a fistful of his perfectly styled hair and jerk his head back. Reaching for the same knife Valentina used to defend herself, I push the tip against his lilywhite, pretty-boy neck.

  “Apologize.”

  “Diogo,” Jeremy says from behind me, a tremor in his voice, “do as he says.”

  “Gabriel.” There’s consternation in Magda’s tone, but she doesn’t touch me. The situation is too volatile. I’m too unpredictable. A flick of my wrist and Diogo’s life will bleed out at Valentina’s feet. Only, I don’t want another man’s blood on her conscience. She already feels responsible for Tiny’s death. Diogo doesn’t deserve the guilt she’ll suffer over him.

  “I’m sorry,” Diogo grits out.

  I jerk harder on his hair, making him cry out in pain. “Say it like you mean it.”

  “I’m really fucking sorry.”

  I lodge the tip of the knife under his skin. “Beg.” A thin trickle of blood runs down his neck under his collar.

  “Forgive me,” he says. “I beg you.”

  I look at Valentina. “Do you forgive him?”

  She looks at me with owl eyes. “Yes.”

  “You’re more compassionate than me.” I yank him up by his hair until he finds his feet. “Get the fuck out of my house. The deal’s off, and you better pray I don’t run into you on the street. You better stay very far away from me.”

  When I let go, Diogo stumbles to his father. Magda is paler than the white tiles on the floor, quiet for once. Jeremy gives me a narrowed glare, but he takes Diogo’s arm and escorts him from the room. You don’t insult a man in his own house. Jeremy knows this. He knows I can cut Diogo’s throat for that, and none of his business associates will retaliate.

  Magda rubs the back of her neck. “I’ll see you out.” She turns to Valentina. “You better go to your room and not come out until morning. If I see your face before, I may not be able to suppress the urge to kill you.”

  When it’s just the two of us in the kitchen, I take her in my arms and give her a hug. “You okay?”

  She nods. “I didn’t want to cause trouble.”

  “You did the right thing.” I kiss her nose. “I’m proud of you.”

  “You put your life at risk. They’re going to kill you.”

  “They’ll try, but so is every other criminal and cop in the country. You’re mine, Valentina, and nobody touches you.”

  The clicking of Magda’s heels down the hallway makes me go rigid. “Go to bed.”

  “The kitchen––”

  “Can wait for tomorrow. Go.”

  She obeys wordlessly. By the time Magda reenters the room, Valentina is out of sight.

  “In my study.” Magda stalks from the room, not waiting to see if I’m following.

  She holds the door for me and slams it when I step over the threshold.

  “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

  “You know I am, Magda.”

  “Do you have any idea how hard I worked to secure that deal?” She pushes her finger in my face. “What gave you the right to blow it away? Over a fucking maid!”

  I grab her finger and move it away with force. The act catches her off-guard. She stumbles a step back and gapes at me with a mixture of disbelief and fear.

  “If you ever push your finger in my face again, I’ll break it.”

  “Gabriel,” she exclaims on a gasp, “I’m your mother.”

  “You’ve never been a mother to me. Don’t claim the designation now.”

  “What’s gotten into you? You blew a multi-million-rand deal, for God’s sake!” She straightens her back, her fear suddenly gone. “Don’t think you’re above my punishment because you’re my son. You’re taking this game you’re playing with the
girl too far. You’ve had your fun. Let her slip up and kill her so we can all go back to our lives.”

  “I’ll decide when the fun’s up.”

  “Is part of the fun buying her fancy clothes? Playing with a doll isn’t enough for you? You have to dress her, too?”

  “Are you checking my bank statements?”

  “I know the owner of the boutique where you took your slave on a shopping spree.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “You’re fucked in the head, you know that? Just like your father.”

  “How can I forget when you’re doing such a great job of reminding me?”

  She wipes a hand over her face. “I need a drink.” Propping her hands on her hips, she regards me from under her lashes. “Get her out of your system, Gabriel. Do whatever it takes.

  Eventually, you’re going to have to kill her.”

  “Good night, Mother.”

  I leave her alone in her study, going to my own for a stiff drink and to mull over the evening. I should’ve broken Diogo’s nose the minute he stepped over my doorstep. That way, I would’ve saved myself a whole evening of his unpleasant presence. My thoughts don’t dwell on the cocksucker for long. As always, my attention is reserved for Valentina. I’m not sure in what emotional state she’ll be when I go to her room, but I’ll be there for her, regardless. She should feel safe under my roof, knowing I won’t let anyone harm her. The kind of hurt I want to give her, that’s something entirely different. The kind of pain I like to inflict is as much for her pleasure as mine.

  When I walk through her door, I don’t find her curled up in bed or huddled in a corner. She’s spread out on the bed, naked, waiting for me. My balls draw tight. My cock swells.

  I can’t look away from her fingers where they rest between her legs. “You played with yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you come?”

  “No, I was saving that for you.”

  “Good, because otherwise I would’ve had to punish you. I own your orgasms. Say it.”

  “You own me, Gabriel. All of my orgasms.”

  I swallow away the hoarseness in my throat. “Show me. Play with yourself.”