by Penelope Sky
Without waiting for permission, she made herself at home in my bedroom.
She left her clothes and accessories in her room on the other side of the house, but she helped herself to my bed every night—like it was half hers.
I sat up in bed and scrolled through my phone when she walked inside. Sometimes I thought I should object to the direction this relationship was going. It started off casual, but now it actually felt like a marriage. We were a man and a woman who slept together every single night. I never verbally agreed to that. It just happened.
I didn’t mind it. But I didn’t like the position it put me in.
I lifted my gaze from my phone, not prepared for what I was about to see.
In an open silk robe, she stood wearing black lingerie with garters on her thighs. Little black bows adorned the silk of her thong and bra, and her dark makeup made her look ready for a photo shoot.
My phone slipped from my grasp and landed in my lap.
She sauntered farther into the room, her eyes locked on me like I was the only man in her thoughts. She approached the bed because I was immobile, still surprised at what I was witnessing.
I didn’t see lingerie often. My flings were too short for that kind of planning.
She pulled the robe off her shoulders, and it slipped to the floor. Then she pushed her black thong over her hips and let it slide down her legs until it joined the other article of clothing. Her pussy was perfectly shaved, her cute clit ready for my pelvic bone.
I was still rigid because I couldn’t process what I was looking at. My cock practically pierced my boxers, and my throat ran dry because she was so stunning. She had the perfect body to show off that lingerie.
She climbed onto the bed then straddled my hips, my boxers at my thighs so she could slowly sink down until I was perfectly situated inside her. Her hands reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. When the material was gone and her tits were on display, she really looked phenomenal.
I stared at her tits before my eyes flicked up to lock on hers again.
“I want to show you how sorry I am…” She palmed against my chest and sat directly on my dick, her soft slit smearing my length with her slickness.
I closed my eyes because it felt so good, to feel bare pussy like that. I’d never been with a woman without a condom, only fingered them. Feeling just a bead of her arousal was like a drop of heaven.
Her arms circled my neck, and she pressed her tits against my chest, her hard nipples dragging lightly against me. Her mouth was close to mine, her soft lips desperate for my kiss.
I had the most beautiful woman on my lap—and she was my wife. “I forgive you…”
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” she whispered against my mouth.
My hands squeezed her hips, and a shiver ran up my spine. “That’s how good you are.”
My driver pulled up to the entrance of the theater, and I got out of the car, taking Arwen’s hand so I could help her to her feet. She was in a stunning black dress, the fabric hugging her sexy frame perfectly.
I pulled her close and guided her up the stairs.
“It’ll be nice to go to the theater without performing in it.” Covered in diamonds and looking every bit like a DeVille, she was my crown jewel. Her hair was in tight curls, and she had it pinned back to show off her perfect face.
“Don’t be surprised if they ask you to sing at some point.”
“And I’ll oblige…because they won’t take no.”
The usher guided us to the private box where I was meeting the guys. The show had already begun, so we greeted each other quietly then took our seats.
Her hand immediately went to my thigh, her wedding ring shining in the darkness.
My hand rested on top of hers, and I glanced at her beside me. She was already focused on the stage, her eyes reflecting the bright lights. A slight smile was on her lips as she immediately became absorbed in the story.
She didn’t notice me looking at her, so I continued to enjoy my vantage point. The light hit her cheeks perfectly, showing off the beautiful contours of her face. Her bow-shaped lips were phenomenal in that red lipstick. She outshone all the actors onstage, dulled the beauty of the other women.
When she worked for my forgiveness, she got more than just that.
The show was over an hour later, and the lights came on as we rose to our feet. Now, proper introductions were made. I introduced my wife to the few people who hadn’t met her yet, and everyone else who did know her was thrilled to see her once more.
We were escorted to a private room in the back of the theater, a fancy dining hall where the aristocrats used to have their private meals after the conclusion of the show. High-top tables were everywhere, and large windows gave prime views of the city. Waiters passed with glasses of champagne and trays appetizers.
She sipped her champagne and watched the occupancy of the room rise, more people from our party joining us. “I never expected a man like you to attend so many parties. You seem like someone who would be home every single night if he had the choice.”
“Networking is the most important aspect of business.” It was how I got eighty percent of my business, just from a mere introduction. Other acquaintances vouched for me, and then my credibility was established. “But you’re right.” I took a sip of my champagne. “I hate this shit.”
“Good thing you have me. I think I’m a little more approachable.”
She was definitely my better half. “A lot more, actually.” My arm curled around her waist as more people came up to us for a chitchat. Everyone recognized her from the opera because going to the theater was the biggest hobby for most of them. They got lost in conversation, and naturally, I was forgotten.
I didn’t mind. If I could be a fly on the wall, I would be.
I excused myself to get another drink, but I never made it to the bar.
Standing in the corner making small talk with someone was the seven-foot asshole I hated.
His eyes shifted to mine, and he raised his glass like he was giving a toast. His pearly white teeth reflected the light from the chandelier. They were so bright, it was obvious they weren’t real. He’d had dentures put in his mouth long ago after all his teeth got punched out.
He was probably armed, but so was I.
I remained calm and didn’t seem the least bit offended by his presence. I continued to the bar, ordered my drink like everything was fine, and then made my way over just as his guest stepped away.
“Nice party.” His flute of champagne was particularly small in his large grasp. He downed it until it was empty then placed it on a passing tray. His hands slid into his pockets as he surveyed the guests at the party.
Knowing he was only twenty feet from my wife made my blood boil. I knew what he’d tried to do to her, how he intended to use her to line his pockets with gold. The anger was so paramount that I was motionless. All I could do was stare at him. The second I reached for my gun, he would reach for his—and a lot of people would die.
“Your wife looks good in diamonds.”
“Because she is a diamond.”
He chuckled. “That’s a good way to put it.”
“What’s your plan? Take her in front of three hundred people?”
“No. If I made a scene, I would never get invited again.”
How did he get invited to begin with? “I have a feeling you weren’t given an invitation in the first place.”
He smiled, showing his obnoxiously white teeth. “Just talk like you’re rich, and people think you’re rich. That’s all you have to do to survive at these hoity-toity social parties.” When another waiter walked by, he snapped his fingers to get his attention then took a drink off the tray. “Then you can have all the free food and booze you want.”
“I doubt you’re in a position where you need free anything.”
“I don’t know…Arwen’s father hit me pretty hard. The bank repossessed his homes and antiques, so I was left with nothing.” Now th
at the subject had been broached, it turned hostile. His eyes were on me, full of warning. My instinct was to get Arwen out of there, but being surrounded by three hundred people was the safest place she could be. And since I was there, I could keep eyes on him at all times. “Maverick, I don’t want it to be this way. You and your father are good men.” His hand moved to my shoulder, and he squeezed like we were old friends.
I pushed off his hand. “Touch me again, and I’ll stab that flute into your neck.”
He brushed off the threat like it was of no consequence at all. “We both know how this is going to go. A lot of men are going to die. A lot of resources will be wasted. If we spend too much time focused on each other, we won’t notice what our other enemies are doing. I’ve already offered to pay you generously. So, take the money, and let’s end this.”
He could offer me a billion dollars, and I still wouldn’t be tempted. “You could make me king of the world, and I still would turn you down.”
He shook his head slightly, like he was disappointed. “The butcher should never get too close to the livestock. Rule number one, Maverick.”
“I promised her father I would keep her safe in exchange for the information. I have to fulfill that promise.”
“But he has to fulfill his promise to me.” Now that the conversation had deepened, his mood soured. He poked his finger to his chest as he stepped closer and leered down at me. “He made me that promise first. I get priority.”
“She had nothing to do with that.”
“Boo-hoo.” He finished his drink then left the glass on the end table like an asshole. “Her father is dead, so what does it matter?”
“It matters because I keep my word.”
He studied me as his features softened. “That has nothing to do with this, and we both know it. You have to ask yourself if you’re willing to deal with this headache for a piece of ass. Don’t forget that’s all she is—just a piece of ass.”
She’d never been that to me. “Let this go, Kamikaze. You have a million ways to make money.”
“But I shouldn’t have to. She should make the money for me.”
She may be my sheep, but she was no animal. “I don’t want men to die for this war. I don’t want to use my ammo for this stupidity. But I’ll do it if you force me. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. If that’s how it has to be, that’s how it has to be.” Now, the conflict had been established, and there was nothing left to do but fight. We were officially enemies. The crowded room didn’t make me feel any safer than if we were alone in a dark field.
Kamikaze shook his head slightly. “That’s unfortunate, Maverick. That means one of us will live—and one of us will die.”
“Doesn’t have to be that way. Just let it go.”
“I won’t let it go just as much as you won’t,” he said bitterly. “But I want to minimize my losses. I’ve got a lot of other shit to worry about. So, this is my proposal.”
I already knew what was coming.
“Russian roulette—you and me.”
My eyes glanced higher and noticed the scar on that was visible through his hair. A bullet had torn through his skull and became buried in his brain. Somehow, the motherfucker had survived. But he wouldn’t survive it again.
If we played the game and I got the bullet, I hoped I would be as lucky.
But probably not.
“You’re a man of your word, Maverick. So, should we agree on a time and a place? Or would you rather do this the old-fashioned way?”
He had just as many resources as I did. It would be a battle resulting in many casualties. I was equally likely to die from a stray bullet. When it came to clashes like that, there was always one victor and one loser.
This option minimized the bullshit.
I glanced at Arwen on the other side of the room. Oblivious to the conversation we were having, she laughed with her companion and continued to enjoy the fresh glass of champagne that had been placed in her hand. Was this woman really worth my own life? I could hand her over right now, and the whole thing would be over. I turned my gaze back to him once my mind was made up. “Let’s do it tomorrow.”
15
Arwen
Maverick was quiet for the rest of the night. He only said a few words to his acquaintances. With a glass always pressed to his lips, he spent the evening drinking. He ditched the flutes of champagne and went straight for the liquor.
Just like last time, everyone asked me to sing a song. I sat at the piano and played a new song I’d written just weeks ago. When I looked at Maverick, he wasn’t paying attention. He stood at the window and looked out at the street, indifferent to my song.
A switch had flipped in his head.
We said goodbye to everyone and then got inside the car waiting at the curb. The driver pulled away and took us to the estate in Florence. I wanted to ask what was bothering him, but since we had no privacy, I stayed quiet.
He stuck to his side of the car and didn’t blanket me with affection. He was so cold, it didn’t seem like I was there at all. His thoughts plagued him and dragged him to the bottom of the deepest lake.
Twenty minutes later, we entered the house. It was late and Abigail was already asleep. This place had felt like a prison when I first arrived here, but now it was the most beautiful home I’d ever been in. Just the entryway alone was marvelous, with ceilings so high I could barely make out the chandelier at the top when the lights were off.
“What’s bothering you?” We took the stairs, side by side. I lifted up my gown so my heels could rise onto the next step without snagging on anything.
He ignored my question.
“You were fine when we got there, but now you’re dead inside.”
We made it to the second landing then turned to go up the third. With one hand in his pocket and his shoulders slouched, he didn’t seem to hear me. His thoughts were a million miles away, still focused on the subject that had stolen all his attention.
I made it to the third landing then dropped my dress. “Maverick.”
He walked ahead of me and entered his bedroom. He pushed the door open and immediately slipped off his jacket and set it on the armchair. His fingers popped open his shirt buttons, and then he pulled that off too. The tie landed on the floor.
My heels were killing me, so I slipped them off. “What’s going on?”
He loosened his belt then fell into the armchair. He was bare-chested with tight abs, and his eyes were heavy from all the liquor he ingested. The top button on his pants was popped open, and some of his happy trail was visible.
If I weren’t so alarmed by his behavior, I would sink to my knees and suck him dry.
With his fingertips resting against his temple, he watched me. “Kamikaze was there tonight.”
That simple sentence was enough to explain everything. My chest tightened in terror, and my heart started to race with unease. He had been in the same room with me, somehow hidden among the three hundred faces enjoying themselves at the party. He was seven feet tall, so I had no idea how I’d missed him.
“He and I had a chat.”
The man turned up when we least expected it. Maverick obviously had no idea he would be there. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have brought me. A man so big could still be so sneaky. My fingers reached to the back of my dress, and I pulled down the zipper because my gown suddenly felt too tight.
“I tried to talk some sense into him…but that’s not possible.” His eyes shifted away, and he looked at the empty fireplace. He stared at it without blinking.
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling a sudden draft.
“We decided to settle this tomorrow.” He dropped his fingers from his temple and finally looked at me for the first time. He seemed defeated, overwhelmed, and even a little resentful.
“What does that mean?”
He pushed against the wooden armrests and rose to his feet. “Russian roulette.”
It was worse than having Kamikaze storm the gates and try to
kill everyone. This precisely laid out the odds, so I knew how likely it was that Maverick would survive. It was all dependent on the position of one bullet in one chamber—and when he pulled the trigger. “No…you can’t do this.”
“I have no choice.” He stood in front of me, his chin tilted down so he could look me in the eye.
“Yes, you do. This can’t be the best option. You said you would kill him and—”
“The odds of survival are the same. He’s got a ton of men, and so do I. We’re just going to kill a bunch of people and waste our resources to settle this. I tried to convince him to let this go, but he refused. He’s not going to stop until he has you.”
“Well, I’m not letting you do this. I’m not letting you play this sick game for me.” I couldn’t imagine the two of them sitting across from each other at a table and taking turns putting guns to their foreheads. With every click of the gun, Maverick would be a little closer to getting the bullet. “I would much rather hand myself over—”
“And I’d rather you not.” He stepped closer to me, his eyes full of determination. “I’d rather die than let that happen to you.”
“But if you die, then it happens to me anyway. Your life isn’t worth that, Maverick. I would never want that to happen to you—”
“I have a plan to get you out of there.”
“What’s the point if you’re dead?” Tears cascaded down my cheeks, and my voice kept escalating higher and higher. “No. We aren’t doing this. I won’t allow you to do this for me. Even my father wouldn’t want you to.”
His voice dropped. “I’m not doing it for him.”
“But still…”
“If Kamikaze gets the bullet, our problems are solved. He’ll be gone for good.”
“What if he survives again?”
“Doesn’t matter. The decision will still be made. And there’s no way that guy is going to survive a second bullet to the head.”
“Maverick, I don’t like this—”
“And I don’t care.” He stepped away from me then pushed off his slacks. His shoes came next, then he stood in just his black boxers. “This is how we’re settling this.”