Soulless: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Starcrossed Lovers Trilogy Book 2)

by Jade West

I remembered Elaine’s secret. I remembered the nasty bitch woman who’d led her through the house.

  “Margaret?” I asked, and the old bitch nodded.

  “Yeah . . .” she said, with a tip of her head. “And you are . . .?”

  “Terence Kingsley,” I told her in a British accent, holding out my hand. “Reverend Lynch should be expecting me.”

  She stared at me with piercing eyes under the porch light.

  “At almost midnight?”

  “British flight, just got in,” I told her, and realized I was lying for one of the very first times I’d ever known.

  “Hmm, Terence. Come inside then,” she offered, and I did it. I stepped over that threshold with a smile on my face.

  I could’ve taken her out along with him, breaking her neck in a heartbeat, but I didn’t. I wanted to use her to scope the place out for everything it was. My eyes were fixed on our surroundings as we passed by, my head still full of everything Elaine would have been seeing and feeling when she was walking the same road. It was a disgusting facade of religion. I hated it with every fucking bone in my body. Yet again, this was a new thing for me. I’d never hated anything with such vigor as I did this shithole and everything it stood for.

  “Wait here, please,” the bitch told me, and stepped away along the hall once we’d turned a corner.

  I used the opportunity to make sure the knife was still positioned nicely inside my blazer, acting like every bit the casual British journalist looking for a tale.

  I was expecting it when she came gliding back out of there with a puzzled expression on her face.

  “The reverend says he doesn’t know what you’re talking about,” she told me. “He has no recollection of any appointment with you.”

  I managed a light British chuckle. “That will be a shame if I’ve taken a whole flight over the Atlantic for nothing. I guess our arrangements have been lost across the months.”

  We stared each other out. She was the one to buckle.

  “I guess you should head in and speak to him yourself. He’s right up the hallway to the right.”

  “Thank you,” I told her. “I’ll most certainly speak to him myself.”

  The bitch didn’t hang around to watch me make my move. She was off in a flash as there was a clatter from the floor upstairs. I wondered just who was up there and whether he still had a whole host of pure, sweet girls being used for his fun.

  I guessed I’d be finding out soon enough.

  The knife was already in my hand by the time I knocked at the piece of shit’s door.

  “You can enter!” he said.

  Hell right. I’d be entering.

  I stepped over that threshold with a smile.

  33

  Elaine

  He was gone when I woke up in the middle of the night. A terrified part of me thought that he’d come to his Morelli senses somehow and walked out of my hopes and dreams. That’s what I was having – hopes and dreams that I hadn’t had since I was a little girl.

  I may have joked about marriage and kids with my boyfriend, Lucian, but it wasn’t such a joke inside. I did want it all with the monster. The monster was everything I wanted and more.

  I called out Lucian’s name before I switched on the bedside light and looked around me. He was definitely gone. I slipped out of bed and checked the bathroom but nothing. He wasn’t downstairs in the living room, and the kitchen was empty to match. I was reaching for a glass for some mineral water when I saw the note on the counter – scribbled, just like the one I’d left on mine. Only Lucian’s scribbled note was hilarious. It lit me up inside.

  Be back soon, baby.

  I could imagine the smirk on his face as he wrote it. I was getting to know his expressions so damn well. Smirk, frown, scowl—and sometimes, like a ray of sun through his dark demeanor, a smile. Only for me.

  Going back to bed was an appealing option, but I couldn’t do it. My brain wouldn’t have switched off enough to let me sleep. I flinched as I dropped onto the sofa and curled my legs up tight. I was still hurting, my flesh sore from the monster’s touch. It was magical in the very best of ways. He’d made it feel as good for me as it could possibly feel.

  The TV was full of crap that didn’t interest me. My mind was full of Lucian. Lucian and me, Lucian and life, Lucian and our future.

  How the hell could we have a future?

  We’d never be allowed to have a future. If anyone ever saw us together, they’d kill us for our betrayal.

  I’d never really thought about just what was so unforgivable between the Morellis and the Constantines. I knew we’d hated each other since long before I was born, but the logic had never really been explained to me. I guess I’d asked when I was still young enough to ask such questions, but likely got the same universal response.

  The Morellis are pieces of shit worthy of nothing. They are our enemy. They’ve been out to destroy us for all time.

  I knew they had made every effort to undermine us in NYC life, and business, and deals. There was more to it, too. So many people believed it had been one of the Morelli pieces of shit that had killed my father. There was no doubt about it to any of my family – it must have been one of the Morellis. They’d been assholes at every opportunity – despising us as much as we despised them, enough to murder the man at the very top of the family tree – but why? I wasn’t sure I really knew why. It would have been so bad if the hate was based on the very first thing I’d ever heard of between us—one original act that caused a divide between two men and the one woman they wanted. My mother. But it was that . . . of course it was . . . both men had fallen for my mother to the point they’d destroyed everything else for the chance of having her. Two men, one prize, and no damn way of sharing it.

  My father had won. Caroline Roosevelt had become Caroline Constantine, and Bryant Morelli had been unable to accept my father’s victory.

  The battle must have been a rough one.

  They hated each other from the moment my father took his bride. Now we hated each other. Every single one of us hated each other.

  Or we used to. Before me and Lucian fell in love and broke tradition.

  I let the thoughts simmer for long minutes, thinking it through, over and over. I hated the Morellis, right? They were sons of bitches worth hating. For sure they were. Every single one of them was a piece of shit—apart from Lucian—and all that stuff between our families must have been a long time brewing with a whole load of backbone to it. Bryant Morelli and my father were close friends growing up. Surely it couldn’t have only been my mother that tore them apart.

  Lucian must know some stuff. There must be a whole stack of stuff that led to the war between two families who used to like each other.

  I was kidding myself. Of course I was. I knew full well, in instinct as much as in sense, that it was my mother who destroyed them – just like she tore everything apart. She’d caused us a family divide destined to end in death for so many names on the family trees.

  Maybe mine and Lucian’s deaths would be next.

  The thought made me shiver, and that made me smile just a little to myself. Oh, how quickly things can change. There was no doubt about it. Not in the slightest. I didn’t want to die anymore. I wanted to live forever, for all time, for every breath I could possibly breathe in this world.

  In his world.

  I wanted it all alongside Lucian Morelli.

  34

  Lucian

  He was a pathetic looking man. Even more pathetic than I’d imagined. His pitiful face was shallow and vile. His eyes were beady and his lips were pursed. Hardly a welcoming reverend by anyone’s standards. I’m sure my eyes were as evil as they’d ever been as I closed the distance between us with a smile on my face.

  “Terence Kingsley the journalist?” he asked, and his voice was weakly curious, as though he knew right from that very first sight that I was nothing of a journalist.

  I took my Terence Kingsley glasses off and slipped them into my po
cket, and he shrank in his seat.

  “You’re not Terence Kingsley, are you? Wait, I know you. I know your face.” he said. “You’re him. Him. Lucian Morelli. Why are you here?” He swallowed hard. “Are you a member of the fellowship? Do you wish to be a member of the fellowship?”

  I stepped up to one of the pictures on his wall. It was a garish piece of crap showing a benevolent Lord Jesus reaching down towards the children at his feet.

  “Tell me about this fellowship,” I said, feigning interest in membership. “I heard you used to offer Elaine Constantine as a prize toy.”

  His smile made me rage like a beast inside.

  “Ah yes, Elaine,” he said, and his expression was one of relief. “Unfortunately, Elaine is now out of our offerings. She was a delightful creature, but she outgrew us as they all do. We have other girls very similar though. I can certainly introduce you.”

  I didn’t speak to him, just stared until he continued talking.

  “I really didn’t believe the Morellis wanted to be a part of this fellowship. I didn’t believe you crossed over with the Constantines. Lionel was adamant that you didn’t.” He paused. “May I ask who introduced you to our order?”

  “One of the Constantines,” I told him, and he let out a laugh.

  “That’s quite a surprise. I really didn’t expect there to be any communication between you and the Constantines. I guess our world is changing. We can thank the Lord for his blessing in friendship.”

  “We can certainly thank the Lord for my presence here,” I said.

  “Take a seat,” he offered and gestured to the chair opposite him. “We can discuss the options. Joining the order is expensive, but most certainly worth the investment. Our handshake goes a very long way in this world.”

  I took the seat, leaning back and crossing my legs at the knee like a truly relaxed potential member. My gloved hands flexed, fingers stretching.

  “Who else does this handshake belong to? I want to know exactly who I’m signing up with.”

  He paused. “I’m not permitted to disclose the full details of the order until after initiation into our group. I can assure you that our members are very established fellows who would be extremely pleased to have a man of your stature among them. I must say I’m pleasantly surprised by your interest.”

  I didn’t speak, just sat there. I had two options available to me. I either tortured him until he gave me the member list slowly, or I got the stupid piece of shit to spill all before I knifed him. Or both. I opted for both.

  “I want the membership list, or I’m out of here. I’m not joining with nobodies or pussies.”

  The stand-off lasted seconds, not minutes.

  His shrug was as pathetic as he was. “If it was one of the Constantines that told you about us, I’m certain you’re outside of the usual precautions. We have no nobodies or pussies in our order, I can assure you. We are limited in our numbers. Quite exclusive,” he simpered.

  “I know of Rawlings, Eddington, and Hardwick,” I told him. “I’ve heard they are particularly brutal beasts with the girls.”

  He smirked at me. “Oh yes. They are brutal with the girls. They very much enjoyed Elaine, you know. She was a royal little slut when she discovered her clitoris.” His eyes fogged over with memory. “She took her punishment like a good girl.”

  I could have ripped his balls off and rammed them down his throat there and then.

  “Who else enjoys playtime?” I asked him. “Tell me.”

  The Reverend betrayed his members like a fool.

  “Lionel. Anthony Ellison. Carlos Madeira. Cederic Bartonshire,” he informed me. “A lot of our members are from across the Atlantic, of course. Their aristocratic scene over there is very . . . seeking. As I said though, it’s quite exclusive. That’s the full list.”

  I could imagine it. Already my mind was running away, picturing routes overseas and just what the fuck I was going to do with them.

  “Do enlighten me,” Lynch said. “Who told you about us? Surely it was Lionel, yes?”

  That’s when I picked my moment.

  “It was Elaine.”

  “Elaine Constantine?” he asked, and his shock was delicious.

  “Yes,” I told him. “It was Elaine.”

  Seemingly, he knew full well that Elaine wasn’t quite the royal little slut he’d portrayed her as. He also realized I wasn’t the potential member I’d presented myself as.

  He moved as quickly as I did, but I was faster than that incompetent piece of shit. He darted for his exit, but I darted for him, tumbling him back onto his seat before he was even out of it. He crashed onto his back, staring up at me with panicked piggy eyes.

  My foot was on his chest in an instant, pressing hard. He didn’t even try to push me off.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked me. “For her? For that little girl who lied as well as she took cock? She’s nothing!”

  “She’s everything, but most importantly—” I leaned over and spat in his face. “She’s mine.”

  “But she’s a-a Constantine?” His confusion was obvious. Mine would have been obvious to match just a few days ago.

  Voicing it aloud was a whole other league to me. It was a combination of disgusting and fantastic as I spoke the words.

  “I’m in love with Elaine Constantine.”

  His jaw dropped open, and his eyes were huge white plates as I pulled out the blade from my inside pocket.

  “Surely not?” he hissed. “This is some ploy to get close to the Constantines, isn’t it? Let me up from here and I will tell you all you need to know about them. I’ll tell you all about Elaine. We didn’t mean to hurt her. She enjoyed it. She enjoyed being a fellowship girl.”

  He was hoping for a miracle.

  “I know everything I need to know about her Constantine background,” I told him. “I know everything I need to know about you.”

  I pressed my foot to his throat. His hands gripped my ankle as he squirmed, but I wouldn’t budge, just kept my weight at a beautiful enough pressure to make him choke and turn red. Wriggling piece of shit.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” I said, and lowered the blade.

  I stripped that man with my knife before I hurt him. I kicked him in the face as he tried to scream, busting his jaw so bad he was a mess, and then I took it slowly. Each slice of my blade was a thrill to me, only this time it wasn’t about my addiction to inflicting pain. This time it was all about the woman I was avenging.

  It was about her beautiful eyes and how they must have cried when this man touched her. It was about him punishing her over so much time that she believed she deserved it.

  It was about the way he’d touched her, the way he’d whispered filth into her ear when she was too broken to understand what he was doing to her.

  It was about the way he’d been in this place, letting other men in for their sick thrills at her expense – my beautiful girl with a heart of gold.

  I did things to the sick fuck that made even my stomach turn. He was a gurgling wreck as I finally took the ultimate payback.

  I leaned in close, whispering right into his wheezing face.

  “This is for Elaine,” I said. “Say hello to the Lord when you get there. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you, you disgusting piece of shit.” I pushed the blade straight through his windpipe and twisted it.

  I had a smile on my face as he gurgled his final breath.

  I was covered in blood as I left his body on the floor and smoothed my bloodstained jacket down over my chest.

  Time to get more closely acquainted with the delightful Margaret.

  35

  Elaine

  Lucian’s car pulled up as dawn was just beginning to creep in. The low rumble of the engine woke me from my daze on the sofa, the headlights bright enough in the dark to shine through the window. He was home. My boyfriend was home.

  That word was stupid, ridiculous even when it came to the wild, twisted, mad way that I loved Lucian, but I al
so cherished it. Such a simple, carefree declaration: my boyfriend. Just thinking it made my heart leap.

  I was already on my feet and at the front door when he stepped up to the porch. I was all set to dash out and grab him, but I stopped as he came into view under the porch light.

  My boyfriend was covered in blood, and it most certainly wasn’t his own. His shirt was splattered, red on white. His jacket was damp and his face was smeared with red to match. His gloved fingers were bloodied around his keys, and his eyes were shining dark. Evil. But not evil at me . . .

  I didn’t even know what questions to ask. They were a blubber in my mouth. I stepped back to let him through, and he walked in with purpose and strength, as powerful as I’d ever seen him. Then he smiled. Lucian Morelli, covered in blood, smiled at me.

  “Morning, sweetheart.”

  He headed straight to the kitchen, flicking on the coffee machine before ditching his gloves in the sink. He got out two mugs and went to work, mute, without offering a single word.

  It was me who finally found my voice and asked the most obvious question.

  “What happened?”

  His eyes were twinkling when they met mine.

  “I had some business to attend to.”

  “Business?”

  He laughed. “Yes, sweetheart, business. Business for you.”

  I looked him up and down, still trying to soak in what the hell was happening.

  “For me? How the hell could this be for me?”

  He leaned against the counter casually, like this wasn’t some kind of alternate dimension of craziness at dawn.

  “Well, that depends on who the blood belonged to, doesn’t it?”

  I got a shiver all the way through me, because it couldn’t be . . . it couldn’t be from someone who hurt me. But it was. Of course it was. My stomach did the weirdest lurch. My heart was racing at the thought – both excited and scared at once.

  “Who was it?” I asked, then took a breath. “Was it Uncle Lionel?”