Morally Corrupt: A Dark Romance (Morally Questionable Book 1)

by Veronica Lancet

"Jimenez is my father." His hand shoots up, and with a movement of his finger, he beckons me to him.

  I obey—finally, some reliable information.

  "Wh-what do you want with me? Daddy told me he refused your father once." I lie.

  "Did he now..." He says in a bored voice.

  "Kneel. If you're a good pet, I may tell you."

  I kneel in front of him, and he laughs.

  "My, aren't you obedient."

  His hand moves to my face, and I have to steel myself, so I don't instinctively recoil at his touch.

  "I wonder... who put you in white." He shakes his head, amused.

  "You see... it wasn't my father who wanted you. You were supposed to be mine. My wife." His face suddenly shifts, and he regards me with a disgusted look. "But he gave you to him instead."

  "Why...why would my daddy promise me to you?" I whisper, hoping he believes my helpless act.

  "Because he owed my father. You don't think he became that rich on his own. As if..." He scoffs, "And then he had to go and screw everything up." Suddenly he flings the glass to his right, and it breaks into a thousand pieces when it meets the wall. I flinch on purpose, but with both of his hands free now, he grabs onto the flimsy material of my dress and rips it in the middle. Tsk, tsk... too soon.

  "Wait." I wail. "Please! I need to understand... my daddy, no..." I shake my head, and tears are already falling down my cheeks. I deserve an Oscar for this performance.

  "How did he even get involved with Jimenez?"

  Jimenez Jr., aka the man in front of me, looks put off by my questioning, but thankfully he indulges me.

  "You're so naive..." His hand again goes to the skin around my throat, tracing over the collar and going downwards.

  Please just answer the question, my mind screams.

  "You must have thought your daddy was untouchable, didn't you? I heard about the way you mourned him." He talks to me as if I am a child, which, honestly, isn't all that bad. It means that my act at the funeral worked.

  "They met at Princeton. They were in the same fraternity. Your daddy would be nowhere without mine." Ok, I can work with this...

  "No...my daddy was a good man." I want to bite my tongue for even voicing that out loud. He shakes his head at me and purses his lips.

  "Sure he was, sweetheart." He takes hold of my leash and tugs me forward until I fall onto him.

  I guess talking time is over. He rolls the leash around his knuckles a couple of times, and I can't help but follow its course, now standing too close to him for my liking. My eyes roam my surroundings, and I quickly scan for anything useful to make my escape.

  The glass...

  I look to see a few bulky pieces among the myriad other shards. Might work.

  "I'm going to enjoy breaking you." His mouth is next to my ear as he whispers.

  "I'm going to fuck you into submission... you're never going to see the light of the day again." He studies my face as he says this, his words full of malice and resentment.

  One of his hands goes to my ripped dress to fondle my breast while the other clenches around my throat, above the collar. He flips me on my back onto the bed in one sudden movement, his body looming over me.

  Ok, time out.

  He takes advantage of my disorientation to settle between my legs.

  No, we can't have that.

  Calmly I take his face in my hands, and I smile at him. He seems disturbed at this, especially when I bring his face closer.

  "You wish, bastard," I tell him before applying all of my force to roll over with him. I manage to get almost halfway before he pushes against me, and I fall back down, but not before disentangling my legs.

  Good.

  "Fucking bitch." He tries to hold onto me without success. I curl one fist, and I catch him right under his jaw, stunning him for a moment. I take advantage of that to push him off me and stand up. He is clutching his jaw in pain, and I know I can't waste any time.

  My hand goes to my collar and rotating a small wheel that Diego had shown me, I quickly pull it off me, and I use the leash to tie his hands in an eight loop, making sure it's secure enough. His whole body is now thrashing under me, and with my elbow, I hit him as hard as possible in the temple. I see his eyes roll to the back of his head and sigh in relief.

  He's out.

  I pick up two relatively bigger shards of glass and head towards the door. Sure enough, two guards are standing next to it. They react immediately when they see me open the door, but I move faster.

  I let them come after me inside the room, thinking it might help disperse the noise.

  I take a few steps back and then lunge for the first man, jumping on him and going straight for his throat.

  It's one fluid motion later that blood gushes out.

  This has given the other guard enough time to take his gun out and aim it at me. With one hand, I quickly turn the limp body around to cushion the bullets, while with the other, I pat him down in search of his gun.

  When my fingers finally wrap themselves around the cold steel, I wrench the weapon free of the guard's trousers and aim for my target. The man crumples to the ground, and I take one second to catch my breath before grabbing the other gun as well.

  I'm about to finally exit the room when I remember my state of deshabille, so I take one of the fallen guards' jackets and wrap it around my shoulders.

  Now the hard part commences.

  I go down the corridor, and I try my hardest to remember all the turns we took when we came here from the stage. I think I got it at some point, but I'm met by other guards who yell "Intruder" when they spot me.

  I aim both guns and shoot, taking two out and wounding another before taking cover behind one of the bodies.

  I check the guns for ammo, disappointed to see one is out. Shit. I abandon that pistol and search for another with the dead man. I don't have time to check again before the shots start.

  There is only one way out of this.

  I drag the body with me a few meters, sneaking a few glances in the direction of the targets up ahead. Five people. Two in the back and three of them advancing towards me. They keep shooting, so I count to three and ditch the body, running at full speed towards the guards ahead.

  I fling myself towards one of the men and stoop down at the same time, distracting him and taking a kill shot from down below.

  I immediately shift my focus to the other two while taking advantage of the shelter of the body next to me. Since it's such a straight tunnel, I can't use anything else as a shield, so I have to jump from man to man to avoid a direct hit.

  These men, though, aren't great shots, that's for sure. I'm already tired, and my movements are becoming sloppy, so for them to not get even one good shot at me... that's on them.

  Not that I'm complaining.

  A few more kill shots later, and I find myself next to the entrance of the club. Remembering the way out, I make a dash for it, killing a couple more people on my way, including the bouncer at the door. When I'm finally out of the abandoned factory, I don't stop running.

  I can hear people being mobilized behind me, but I try not to pay attention too much, focusing instead on my remaining stamina and making the best of it.

  Since the factory is in the middle of fucking nowhere, I find myself on the highway, and I know there's little hope of finding a cab around here.

  I stop for a second to catch my breath and look around. Nothing... some abandoned buildings on the horizon, but that's it.

  Fucking Atlantic City!

  I need to keep moving.

  My rib cage is constricting my airflow from running at full speed without stopping. I can probably last another ten minutes at this pace.

  My whole body is starting to ache.

  And if it's not enough that there's perhaps an army of men on my trail, I also see a car coming at full speed and lowering one of the windows to fit a gun through it.

  Shit!

  Given my physical condition, I'm not fast enough
to duck before the bullet grazes the skin of my left shoulder.

  "Mother fucker!" I curse out loud through labored breaths.

  "I can do this!" I tell myself, even though I'm starting a mental countdown until my body will shut down.

  I aim one gun towards the car with my remaining strength and shoot at the one tire and then a second. The car makes a screeching noise as the driver is trying to maneuver it, and I know I've bought myself some time.

  With one last deep breath, I take off again.

  I don't even manage to cover a few meters when the sound of another car draws my attention. The vehicle in question is driving on the opposite lane, and it's getting closer and closer to me.

  I chuckle in relief and run full force towards it.

  Adrian opens the passenger door just long enough for me to get in. He then reverses the car and drives at full speed, leaving a storm of bullets in our wake.

  I'm still breathing hard from the previous exertion, and I'm trying to calm my body down. My wound is also bleeding, as I feel the liquid trickling down my arm under the jacket.

  After a few dummy turns, Adrian parks the car at a gas station. He stops the car and looks straight ahead with a blank expression on his face.

  What's wrong?

  I frown at this, not really understanding his behavior.

  "I'm fine," I add to break the silence. He doesn't answer, so I continue.

  "Really. You should have seen how many I took out." I give him a smile, hoping he'd say something...

  "You fool..." He finally spits out the words and grabs me from across the seat in a bear hug.

  "You fucking fool... how could you even think to do this?" His arms are around my torso, and he's squishing me. Not that I'm not enjoying it, but it's pressing a little on my wound, making me visibly wince.

  "Ah," I mutter unconsciously as pain shoots through my arm.

  "Shit. Are you ok? Where are you hurt?" He starts patting me down, looking for any sign of injury. His face is fraught with worry, and I can't help but smile.

  He still cares.

  I let out a dreamy sigh, which he immediately interprets as a pained sigh and starts tugging at the jacket.

  I help him take it off, and the moment he sees my torn bodice, he stops, his expression frozen.

  "Tell me nothing happened." He pleads in an anguished tone. "Please tell me nothing happened to you." He tugs my head under his chin, holding me to his chest.

  "Nothing happened. I promise." I whisper.

  "You're sure?" He flattens his hands on both sides of my hair, looking at me with moisture in his eyes. "Don't ever do that again. Ever... You have no idea what hell you put me through, B. Please... Never again."

  There's just so much emotion in his voice that I can't help but promise him just that.

  "Yes, never again," I mumble, enjoying the warmth of his body. The comfort of safety lulls me to sleep, and I can't help but succumb. "promise..."

  CHAPTER XLI

  Bianca's crazy if she thinks I'll allow her to put herself in danger to get some information. There's not even a guarantee that Jimenez would be the one to buy her. Just thinking about her proposition makes my blood boil. After seeing that there was no reasoning with her, I'd decided to leave and clear my head. Otherwise, I may have exploded.

  Funny how I've always prided myself on being too level-headed, but this new Bianca has a unique ability to make me lose my calm. I don't think we'd ever had an argument in all our marriage, mainly because Bianca had never expressed a divergent opinion.

  Now that I think about it, I realize how everything we'd done had been me suggesting it and her going along. She'd never challenged me about anything. And it's all because she was trying to please me.

  I give a bitter laugh at the notion.

  It feels like I've been in a relationship with a robot and not a person.

  At the same time, I had to admit to myself that the real Bianca is something else entirely.

  She's unapologetically raw and without polish. She's smart, capable, and a little bit too impulsive.

  And I find myself liking it... liking her.

  Not to mention, our chemistry has never been more potent. In bed, we're the perfect match. Outside of it... I haven't yet decided.

  At this point, I've been roaming for what feels like forever. A quick glance at my watch, and I realize I've lost over two hours just going around in circles. Hoping that Bianca's also had enough time to accept the foolishness of her plan, I head back to the motel.

  "Bianca?" I ask as I open the door and enter the room. I frown when she's nowhere in sight. Her entire luggage is haphazardly thrown on the bed.

  "B?" I creak the bathroom door, but she's not there either. Where could she have gone?

  I start putting all her shit back in the suitcase when I notice a note on the night table. I pick it up.

  I know you won't like this, but I'm going back to the Block.

  I won't be long.

  Sorry in advance.

  XoXo,

  Bianca

  I crumple the paper in my hand and grind my teeth. Sorry in advance? How can she even write that?

  "Why... Why would you fucking do this?" I say to myself, squeezing my eyes shut to calm the rage inside me.

  "Fuck!" My fist flies out and connects with the wall, leaving a small crater behind that fractures into smaller fissures all around.

  I can't even feel the pain radiating from my knuckles. It takes me a while to calm myself, after which I register that she's not been gone for that long. All I need is to go to the club and get her.

  I start searching frantically for the bracelet, only to realize she must have taken it with her, purposefully keeping me away from the club.

  "Bianca..." I mutter, sliding on the floor, my hands massaging my temples.

  How could she do this to me? How? I keep asking myself. She knew how much I'd protested against her going, and yet, she openly did it.

  She doesn't care. A small voice inside my head tells me.

  It's something I've noticed with her. If she gets fixated on something, she doesn't care how or who she hurts in the process; she just goes ahead with it.

  I pray so hard I'm not too late when I reach the club, and even though I don't have a bracelet anymore, I try to get inside.

  "Bracelet?" The bouncer demands when he opens the small window in the door. Of course, I wouldn't be welcomed in without the bracelet. As much as I try to bullshit, the only response I get is the window being shut in my face.

  And when I prowl around for other hidden entrances, I find myself face to face with a group of guards who demand I leave the premises. Well, not as much as demand, as they push a gun in my face and tell me I have five minutes to disappear.

  Out of viable options, I do the only thing I can think of... I very reluctantly call Vlad. Since he was the one to give us the entrance bracelets, maybe he has an idea of what I can do to find Bianca.

  "I expected you to call earlier," Vlad says the minute the call gets through.

  "You knew about this?"

  "You're slow, Hastings."

  "You're telling me you knew what she was up to, and you fucking let it happen?" I'm getting too heated. What kind of sick friendship is this?

  "I let it happen?" Vlad scoffs at me. "I don't think you realize that there's no letting anything happen with Bianca. She's always going to do things her own way. I merely accommodated her so it would be safer."

  Even I have to admit that Vlad is right in one respect. No one can stop Bianca from doing something she wants.

  "How?"

  Vlad sighs and goes on to inform me of his arrangement with one of the guards at the Block, assuring me that until the auction, Bianca would be taken care of.

  "And after? What if it doesn't work? Anyone can buy her. Don't tell me you haven't thought about that."

  "The odds are in her favor," Vlad answers simply.

  "The odds? What's this, a lottery? We're talking about the s
afety of my wife here. Your friend."

  "So now she's your wife again? Interesting."

  "Vlad!"

  "Let me put this differently. Given all the known variables, the probability that Bianca's going to be sold to Jimenez is higher than her being sold to a random person. I don't expect you to understand."

  "You know what? I'm sick of your half-truths and omitted information. I don't know what you're after, but from now on, leave Bianca and me out of it."

  "If that's what you want..." He chuckles. "Don't worry about Bianca. She can take care of herself."

  He hangs up, and I hurl the phone into the nearest wall, watching it splinter.

  I go back to where I parked the car and resolve to wait around until I know the auction is over and then hope that Bianca can get out of whatever situation she's in.

  Maybe I can even intercept her while she's being moved by her buyer?

  Too many thoughts are going through my head at the same time. The precariousness of the situation is making me entirely too anxious.

  I drive around, at some point, stopping to get some food and water. She might be thirsty or hungry or both... I also get a few energy drinks for myself, already foreseeing a late night. A few miles later, it again dawns on me that she might be injured or sick. I find the closest Walgreens and buy everything I can possibly think of.

  The cashier is giving me weird looks as I keep on piling things at the checkout, including bandages, saline water, superglue, pain killers, some paracetamol, and some ointments. I'm basically buying one of each.

  After I pay the bill, I head out with two full bags, loading them in the car's back seat for easy access. I look at my watch and see it's just a little bit after 1 a.m.

  Remembering the schedule from the night before, I start loitering around the abandoned factory again, parking somewhere close but out of sight and driving around every half an hour.

  I sip my energy drink, checking the time almost every five minutes. It's well into the night that I start hearing gunshots coming from the direction of the factory.

  I immediately start the car and drive in towards the noise. As I get closer, I see another car opening fire at someone running on the other side of the highway before having its tires shot down. I don't know how, but I know for sure that it's Bianca they're shooting at.