by Stone, Piper
Budget cuts? What the fuck?
I bristled, allowing an audible hiss. “That’s bullshit.” I’d obviously stated the words too vehemently, her mouth twisting. “My children talk about you all the time. You are the reason they function like normal children. Your departure will not be tolerated.”
“There’s nothing you can—”
Her statement was interrupted; the door to the classroom was kicked open. Before I had a chance to grab my weapon, a man dressed in fatigues, a mask covering his face grabbed Daniella, yanking her against him. The bastard also held a gun in his hand.
Rage rose up from the very depths of my being, the asshole who had her around the neck obviously unaware of who he’d dared fuck with.
“I suggest you lower your weapon,” I said in a quiet yet commanding voice.
Daniella’s eyes were open wide, her fingers digging into the man’s arms, whispered moans of terror coming from her mouth.
I took careful steps toward the assailant, my Glock positioned in both hands.
“Drop it, fucker,” he growled.
“I don’t think so.” I took two additional steps closer, sucking in my breath when he placed the barrel of his gun against her forehead. There was no way I could get off a clean shot.
While she was trembling, there was also a look of anger in her eyes.
“I have no problem shooting her before I blow your head off.”
The fucker had just made a mistake in threatening me. There was no way he was getting out of here alive. My move was calculated; I had one shot at saving her life.
“Get off me!” Daniella railed, jamming both her elbows into the perpetrator. As the asshole stumbled backward, she managed to snag the ski mask covering his face, ripping it completely away.
“Daniella. Get down!” I commanded, unable to catch a good look at the man’s face.
He caught his bearings, smashing the gun against the side of her head. As her body went limp, sliding to the floor, he took aim in my direction.
Pop! Pop!
His anguished grunt indicated I’d managed a solid hit, but the asshole managed to dart out the door. What the fuck?
Footsteps echoed in the corridor and by the time I raced into the hallway, the fucker had ducked down one of the other hallways.
“What the fuck, boss?” Carlo huffed.
“Go after the bastard,” I hissed, taking several deep breaths.
Both Carlo and Titus stormed down the corridor, chasing after the motherfucker. With two bullets in his chest, the asshole should have dropped like a stone.
Unless he was wearing a bulletproof vest.
The thought riled the hell out of me. Who the hell would have the audacity to try an assassination in the middle of a school? The drug runner I’d eliminated the night before was low level at best, the scum not worth an undertaking of this nature. Besides, I had difficulty believing the organization responsible would have had time to process the carnage I’d inflicted, let alone make a planned trip to New Orleans. Shit. I returned to the classroom, crouching down beside Daniella, gently tilting her head in order to see if she’d been hurt. The blood seeping from a cut pissed me off even more. The asshole would be found.
And he’d die by my hands.
Slowly.
I brushed my fingers down her cheek, growling. Her breathing was shallow, her skin devoid of all color. She’d seen the asshole’s face, which wasn’t going to bode well for her survival. The man was obviously an assassin, which meant he would return and finish the job in order to keep her quiet.
“Boss, the fucker got away,” Carlo said from behind me. “Sloan is checking the streets.”
“God damn it.”
“What do you want me to do?”
I shoved the gun into my jacket then gathered her into my arms. “Just get the engine running.”
“What are you doing with her?”
Holding my temper, I glared at him after rising to my feet. “I’m taking her with me. She’ll be exterminated if I don’t.” The man knew better than to question me on any decision; however, I could hear the concern in his voice. He was worried about the children almost as much as I was.
“Are you sure about that? I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but there isn’t a single other person in the building from what I could see. How would the shooter know where you were other than to be tipped off by the teacher?”
I pulled her close to my chest as I walked toward him. “Don’t ever question me again, Carlo.” However, what he said made sense. The phone call had come out of the blue, the request one Daniella likely knew I wouldn’t be able to ignore. I shifted my gaze to her lovely face, realizing that I could have fallen into a trap.
“Yes, boss.”
“We need to find out everything we can about her background, and I do mean everything. Where she lives. Her friends. And what connections she has. Is that clear?”
“Absolutely, boss. I’ll take care of it.”
He waited as I carried her to the door, keeping his weapon ready for fire, ensuring the passage toward the SUV was clear then motioning me outside. By that point, Sloan was jogging around the side of the building, shaking his head.
“I chased him two streets away. Lost him when he got into the back of a vehicle.”
As suspected, the hit had been planned.
After Carlo opened the door, I gently eased her inside then stood scanning both sides of the street.
“Who do you think it was?” Carlo asked.
“A dead man,” I answered before storming around the back of the vehicle, hissing before climbing inside then staring down at the ashen face of one of the most stunning women I’d laid eyes on. Vulnerable. Fragile.
Perfect.
I leaned over, stroking the side of her face, my whisper husky and filled with the kind of thirst that would need to be quenched.
“My little flower, you’re safe now. No one will ever hurt you again.” I would find out everything Daniella knew, and she would confide in me.
Or I would be forced to teach her a lesson, one that she would never forget. If she’d been hired to provide information, the perpetrator would place a high price on her head. No one dared to enter the world of the King Empire without consequences, including the stunning woman who’d been in my arms. Her life was about to change.
Now she belonged to me.
My possession.
My captive.
My hostage.
Chapter 2
Daniella
“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?” A growl floated over me, the baritone deep and rich.
And menacing.
Fear.
The second I opened my eyes, terror wrapped around me, the sensations suffocating. I gasped for air, struggling to make sense of what I was seeing as I attempted to focus. My mind was fuzzy, my head aching, and the wave of nausea made it difficult to move.
Safe.
I remembered hearing the word whispered to me, the husky tone wrapping around me like a warm blanket. So soothing.
So petrifying.
Swallowing, I blinked several times, finally realizing I was staring at a ceiling. When I turned my head, a moan slipped past my lips, every muscle straining. A rush of images washed into my mind.
A masked gunman.
A gun pointed at my head.
Michelangelo King holding me in his arms.
Images of the sleek and debonair man flashed in my mind. With his cold, hard eyes and angular jaw, he was the epitome of a wolf.
One ready to devour me.
Shivering, I took several deep breaths before attempting to move to a sitting position, surveying the area around me, wanting nothing more than to crawl back under the covers. My shoes had been removed, both neatly positioned only a few inches away. Breathe and think. Pay attention. Wincing, I studied every inch of my surroundings. I’d been placed in what appeared to be a room in a house, the bedroom suite almost as large as my entire apartment. I shifted my hand to my ach
ing head, realizing a bandage covered a portion of my forehead. Where the hell was I?
For a few seconds, I was frozen with fear, my thoughts drifting to the possibility that the masked assailant had kidnapped me. I closed my eyes briefly, trying to picture the asshole’s face. After a few seconds, it came to me; the scarred man not nearly as terrifying as the look of hunger crossing Mr. King’s face.
I’d never seen Michelangelo King up close, although his picture, along with members of his illustrious family, had graced the pages of several local newspapers over the last few months. I’d learned of their reputation and their methods of handling business soon after Mr. King’s children had been placed in my classroom. What troubled me more than anything was that I adored Isabella and Alessandro. They were highly intelligent, both creative and protective of each other.
But there was a darkness furrowing inside of Alessandro, the little boy always watching, studying everything I did. His recent attacks on other children had been highly aggressive and every time I’d witnessed an altercation, I’d wondered how much he was like his father.
I’d learned.
I’d seen the venomous look in Mr. King’s heated gaze, his almost lavender eyes darkening, the ugly light in the classroom highlighting his rage the second his world had been threatened.
I’d also witnessed his command.
He was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on, his well-tailored suit unable to hide his muscular physique. Broad shoulders. Long legs. His face alone was a masterpiece of sculpted excellence, his angular jaw and high cheekbones accentuated by raven black hair. I shivered just thinking about the effect he’d had on me. The realization was insane. The man was a monster. There wasn’t a single expensive piece of clothing that could hide the savage underneath. He killed people for a living, destroying the lives of families.
I couldn’t get past the thought.
My legs were shaky as I moved to a standing position, forced to grip the edge of the nightstand to keep from falling. Wherever I’d been taken, the furniture was gorgeous, every detail straight out of a posh magazine. I noticed a pitcher of water and a single glass on the dresser. So, my abductor cared about my welfare? I almost laughed at the thought.
A cold shiver remained as I inched away from the bed, taking careful steps toward the door. Locked. I wanted to pound on the thick wood, demanding my release but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. I pressed my ear to the door, straining to listen. Did I actually hear a dog barking? Everything about that seemed odd. Would a monster own a pet? Maybe if the pup belonged to two very special children. Jesus. The thought that Michelangelo King could actually have a normal life was startling. No. I had to be in some kind of an alternate world. There was no other answer.
I couldn’t get his face out of my mind; the way he’d gazed at me with a burning look of hunger or the moment when the attacker had grabbed me around the neck. It was if Mr. King owned me and how dare another man place a hand on his possession. But what if he hadn’t saved me? Whoa. Everything was wrong with the way I was thinking. As I stepped back, my legs shaking, I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning. Why was I here?
After a few seconds, I moved toward one of the four windows in the room. The bright light was almost too much, forcing me to squint. My God, I must have been passed out for an entire night. Wouldn’t someone at the school miss me by now? I remained disoriented, trying to put the pieces together from what had occurred. While I could see roofs of other facilities in the distance, only greenery surrounded the house itself, a beautiful garden that was well kept, the vibrant colors of flowers and shrubs dancing in the light breeze.
What I knew with certainty was that I was a prisoner.
His prisoner, whoever he was.
My instincts told me that this was Michelangelo’s house, but why bother bringing me here? I was nothing to him, just a teacher with a bleak future and a dwindling back account, my termination so unexpected that I remained hollow inside. I’d loved my work, the little angels giving me hope for the future. All taken away.
I rubbed my arms, suddenly hearing footsteps. Almost frantic, I searched the room for anything to protect myself with. Whoever the asshole was who’d taken me, I refused to go down without a fight. Finding a silver candlestick, I pulled it into my hands, moving behind the door. Stars floated in front of my eyes, the hard thud of my heart a reminder that I was someone’s captive.
As the door opened, I heard a low and husky growl, the sound permeating the room.
“What the hell?” the man half whispered before entering.
And I recognized his voice, the deep and distinctive baritone sending the same rush of desire into every inch of my body.
Michelangelo.
However, the fact remained. He’d taken me against my will.
When he stepped into the room, I swung the heavy silver piece. His instincts and reflexes were quicker than mine, his hand snagging the candlestick and ripping it out of my hold.
I lunged forward, slamming both hands against his chest, the force I’d managed to scrape up from the pit of my being enough to topple him backward several inches, the candlestick falling to the floor. The few seconds that he faltered allowed me to bolt from the luxurious cage. But there was no running from the powerful man. Within two seconds, he’d snagged my arm, dragging me back into the room, with little effort tossing me onto the bed. I fought hard, throwing punch after punch that didn’t seem to make a difference.
“That’s enough, Daniella,” he huffed, straddling my legs and easily pulling my arms over my head. I managed to yank one out of his hold, slapping him across the face.
While he acted as if the action had caused him pain, even shifting his head to the side, I knew better. The man was made of steel. I recoiled, fearful of what he was going to do. He was a powerful and dangerous man, his entire family holding the fate of New Orleans in the palms of their hands. I was a fool to think anything I did would matter.
“Stop fighting me.” He yanked both my wrists into one hand, slamming them down on the bed for emphasis. “If you don’t, you’re going to be punished, and I assure you that you won’t like what will happen.”
Punished? For what? The man was insane. I refused to stop wiggling, cursing under my breath.
“Fuck you.”
He seemed surprised that a prim and proper elementary school teacher would have the gall to issue such ugly words. His eyes were full of amusement, yet there was still no real life in them, as if the man was dead inside.
I huffed, wiggling my hips in some crazy effort to toss him off my body. As if that was going to happen.
“I’m going to give you another chance, Daniella, and I assure you that you won’t get a third. Do you understand?”
I nodded, realizing there was little else I could do.
“That’s better.”
“Where am I?”
“In a safe location. That’s all you need to know.” The look in Michelangelo’s eyes was almost as terrifying as the situation. There was a cold, commanding look to them, the slight golden flecks around his irises sucking me in.
“Why am I here?”
“Because it was necessary to bring you here.” He kept his heated gaze pinned on me and I could swear he was undressing me with his eyes.
“For what reason?” I demanded, yet I heard a distinct quaver in my voice.
“Your safety. You exposed the gunman. I assure you that in doing so, you placed your life in danger.”
“I didn’t see anything.”
He laughed, the dark and sultry tone skittering all the way down to my toes. There was something exciting about him, his prowess more like a savage animal than a man. “Let’s try that again.”
A wave of fear rushed into me. “It happened so fast. I really didn’t see anything. I mean he had dark eyes and a scar on his face. But…”
“That’s more than enough to make you worth killing.”
Michelangelo exhaled, using a single finger to rub across m
y bandage. I snapped my head to the side, cramps of fear rolling into my stomach. “Don’t touch me.”
“The doctor said you will be fine. You’re very lucky, Daniella. You don’t appear to have a concussion. Things could have gotten a lot worse.”
“As if you care. Let me go. I can protect myself.” Did the bastard actually want me to thank him?
“I can’t do that, Daniella. You may have information that is vital to me.”
Information? What was he getting at? I’d never been accosted before the incident. The powerful King was to blame for that. “How long have I been here?”
He tilted his head, taking a deep breath. “Several hours. You slept through the night. However, I checked on you twice. Now, I’m certain you would like to be allowed a more comfortable position while we have our discussion.” He let go of my arms, but I could tell he was prepared for me to attack.
“Today is a school day. I’m certain the authorities have been called. You can’t keep me here against my will.”
His chuckle sent another wave of shivers down both my spine and legs. “You underestimate me, Daniella. I had the children’s nanny call into the school for you. It would seem you have the flu.”
My God. The man had no remorse for abducting me.
“You are…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. I was nauseous from trying to comprehend what the hell was going on.
“As I said, we need to talk,” he continued, his voice completely controlled.
“I have nothing to say to you other than let me go, you bastard. I did nothing to you.” After a few seconds, I was exhausted, the ache in my head intensified. I took several deep breaths, no longer bothering to fight him.
His face hardening, he studied me intently. He grabbed my chin, digging his fingers into my skin. “If I let you move to a more comfortable position, are you going to promise to be a good girl?”
Who the hell was he kidding? Yet I had no other choice. No one knew what had happened to me. Even if they did, there wasn’t a person in New Orleans who’d go up against the great King family. “Fine.”
Michelangelo took a deep breath before letting go of my hands, easing back while still keeping his gaze locked on me. “That’s more like it. Now, we talk.”