by V Vee
Because he wanted to intimidate those around him with his connections.
And so, he’d partnered with Alpha Bianchi and when bodies started to drop, and small battles and skirmishes began to break out around the globe, his pack name on the lips of the fighters and warriors, Angelo began to realize he’d made a terrible mistake. But when female pack members began to go missing, some from his own pack, but many from other packs around the world, and Alpha Bianchi’s pack began to increase in size, women being added, frightened women, women who had been beaten, and who were giving birth so much that they were dying in childbirth, that’s when Angelo knew he was connected to the devil. However, his name, his blood, his hands were all over everything and he had no way of withdrawing, no way of pulling out.
And when Alpha Bianchi stepped into his office, smirking and saying “Hello, Little Alpha,” Angelo was livid. Not only because he was trapped in an alliance with Alpha Bianchi, but also because the meeting with Alpha Bianchi would prevent him from going after Joi for a while.
After having the pointless conversation, wherein Angelo assured the other Alpha that he would keep his mouth shut, Joi was long gone, her scent a distant memory, barely noticeable in the wind.
Angelo growled and shoved his brother away from him.
“Growl? What do you want to do now?” Howl asked him.
Angelo turned and looked at the younger man, whose black hair was just as tousled and disarrayed as his own. He sighed. For two weeks Angelo had pushed his brothers: Howl—who was home on leave from the Army, Thunder, and Rumble, as well as his best friends: Snarl and Grumble, to the limit in the search for Joi. Giving them every lead he could think of, her sisters, her best friends, her parents… each time the men had come back empty-handed.
And every day, every week, Angelo’s wolf grew weaker within him. His soul died a little more. Because of the bite—the claiming bite—he’d given to Joi, he was bonded to her, and without completing the bond, without joining fully, Angelo would slowly waste away. Not only that, without renewing the mark every few weeks, his wolf would waste away.
Joi would be afflicted as well, but not to the same degree. On the one hand, Angelo wanted to wait for her to come back to him, but she’d run from him. She’d run. After he’d told her not to. After he’d told her that she belonged to him. And for that he would not stop chasing her, as he’d promised her that he would do.
“We keep searching,” he told his brother, turning away from the younger wolf and looking out the window with an aggrieved sigh.
The phone in his office buzzed and Angelo walked over to press the intercom button.
“What?” he snarled.
“S-sorry to bother you, Mr. Marconi, but there’s a Talia Henderson here. She says she has information on the whereabouts on a Miss Joi Young?” the front desk receptionist, some temp, said, her voice entirely too chipper and cheery for Angelo’s ears.
Her words penetrated his annoyance, however and excitement rushed through him.
“She knows where Joi is? Send her up, woman. NOW,” he roared into the speaker.
Angelo shrugged off Howl’s hand when the younger man went to calm him down or restrain him. Rushing around the desk, Angelo swung it open and strode quickly to the elevator, prepared to wait for Joi’s friend Talia, a woman he’d spoken to at least three times since Joi had disappeared, who all of a sudden had information about his mate’s whereabouts.
Do not attack the human woman, he admonished his wolf as the beast roared and snarled inside of him. However, it wasn’t his own warning that stopped him from leaping forward once the elevator doors opened, it was his brother Howl, leaping forward and standing in front of Talia, his lip curled up in his own angry snarl.
“Mine,” Howl growled.
Angelo blinked in surprise and looked at Howl then back at Talia who looked at his younger brother, her dark brown eyes wide in fear, her full lips open in shock.
Angelo seriously did not need this headache. There was no way Howl would let another shifter get close to his mate unless he was there. Growling in frustration himself, Angelo threw up his hands.
“Where. Is. She. Talia? Tell. Me,” he demanded, ignoring his brother’s warning growl.
Talia’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, her fear an unpleasant stench that hung heavily in the air, bothering Angelo who would never intentionally do anything to frighten one of his mate’s friends or family members, and also agitating and further angering Howl who Angelo could tell was barely holding onto his human form.
“S-she’s in Cleland, Barbados. In a home she owns down there.” Talia shook her head, her words coming out in a trembling voice. “She’s not doing well. She’s getting really sick. H-here’s the address,” Talia held out a piece of paper towards him.
Angelo nodded as Howl took the slip of paper from Talia and held it out to him. Without another word, he turned and headed to his private elevator that would take him to the roof, calling his helicopter pilot on the way. He would let Howl deal with his new mate on his own, right now he was head to Barbados.
He needed to claim his own runaway mate and finally make her his queen.
Chapter 12
Joi wasn’t exactly sure how she knew Angelo was close. She’d been thinking about him nonstop since running to Barbados. While every thought of him produced a visceral reaction of some kind to surge through her, this time the feeling was different. There was an… anticipation there. An excitement. A sort of nervous anxiety that had her wanting to constantly go to the mirror to make sure she looked presentable.
She wouldn’t do it though. Not only because she would look foolish—especially if Angelo never arrived—but also because she’d literally left the United States, ran from her home country, because of the feeling the handsome billionaire stirred up with her. No, she would keep her wits about her. Remain cool, calm, and collected. Just as she always was.
Which was why she was walking down the beach to go and visit her closest neighbor, Hendrix. She liked Hendrix. He was a genuinely nice guy. Funny. Compassionate. Understanding. And he was fine as fuck too. There had been times, moments, when Joi had entertained the thought of asking Hendrix out. Of going on a date with him just to see how he kissed. She’d spent a lot of time in her vacation home imagining the two of them locked in an embrace. Even when she’d been dating Perry, Joi had been unable to keep her mind from wandering towards her handsome, enigmatic neighbor. But now?
Angelo was the only man who filled her mind.
What the fuck was up with that? She didn’t even know him, and yet she felt like some lovesick schoolgirl, pining away after the high school quarterback who’d taken her virginity and disappeared.
True story. That had really happened to her, and it felt as if it were happening again.
Except in this case, it wasn’t the cool jock running away, it was her. Which was a sort of weird twist of fate.
Joi lowered her eyebrows in complete confusion. Was that irony? She knew it wasn’t a coincidence, but she’d always been confused about the definition of irony. And the Alannis Morrisette song, “Ironic” © that she played at least once a week, was absolutely no help to her whatsoever.
She’d have to look it up once she got back to her bungalow since she’d purposefully left her phone there. Angelo had been calling and texting her nonstop. As well as her father, her sisters, her best friends… her mother? Well, Jackie Young had called Joi one time, left a message, and hadn’t called back.
“I didn’t raise my girls to be gotdamn cowards, Joi-Ann Young. I don’t know what happened between you and that fine specimen of a man, but I have to guess that he blew your back out if it made you run the way it did. Now. If you could leave your daddy and me to go off to that fancy Ivy League school, get scholarships and work to pay for your tuition? If you could take your smarts and start up your own company, then make it a success? Then you can pull up your big girl panties and face that man head on. He’s a good one. And that’s all I have to
say about that.”
Before she was even aware of it, Joi found herself on the first step of her neighbor’s home. Looking up at the front door, which both beckoned her and yet also warned her away, Joi took a fortifying breath to steel her nerves. Then she travelled up the stairs and knocked. She waited for five seconds, her heart thundering and her belly twisting with nausea, before she turned to walk away.
See? I just wasn’t meant to talk to him. I don’t know him well enough to ask for his advice or to bring him into the middle of this crazy situation. Besides, I have the feeling that Angelo wouldn’t be too happy about me doing this anyway. It was that thought that had her hesitating on her return trip.
“Joi?” Hendrix’s voice came from behind her and she turned with a wide, but very false smile fixed on her face.
“Hey Hendrix! How are you?” she asked. “Just thought I would stop by to say hello.”
Joi could see the suspicion that covered Hendrix’s face and couldn’t say that she blamed him. Were she in his position she would be wary as well. They were not really the types of neighbors who just showed up at each other’s homes to say “hello.” They were the types who waved when they saw each other, and occasionally talked whenever they happened to be in the same place at the same time. Joi seeking him out was very much outside the scope of their normal interactions. And yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to apologize. She needed advice. Advice that she actually wanted to hear, and not the kind she’d been receiving from her family and friends.
She needed a distraction, and she knew that if she called her mother, father, sister, aunt, or any of her friends, they would all say the exact same thing.
Stop being a fucking coward and come home.
“So, um… I don’t know if I ever asked you this before.” Joi started shuffling her feet in the wooden planks that made up his front porch. “But do you live here year round?”
Hendrix frowned at her for a moment before his expression cleared and he shook his head with a laugh.
“No. I live here about six months out of the year. The other half I spend in my condo back in New York,” he answered with a glint in his eyes.
Joi wasn’t sure was that glint was about and looking at him, she suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. As if she were cheating on Angelo. Which didn’t make sense whatsoever because regardless of what he said, she did not belong to him. They were not in a relationship, nor did they have a commitment. They had a possible business partnership, and had shared a nice—okay, explosive—time together of an intimate—sexual—nature.
Oh, who was she kidding? Angelo had rocked her world twelve ways from Sunday, and even thousands of miles away, her body still reacted to the memory of his mouth on her. Of his hands gripping her. Of the transcending orgasm she’d barely survived when they’d been together the first—and last—time.
So you’re running from a fantastic orgasm? Her subconscious taunted her. Joi didn’t have the energy to respond, she merely focused back on her conversation with Hendrix, a man who didn’t send her heart careening on a one-way trip to destruction.
Joi smiled and shook her head. “It’s crazy! I live in new York also. Although I’m there more than I am here,” she replied, hoping that her words correlated well with what Hendrix had just finished saying.
Hendrix nodded his head, an indulgent smile on his face. “Yes, I know. We had almost this exact conversation the first time we met and talked.” He crossed his massively built arms across his chest and observed her cautiously and with concern. “Are you okay? You seem just a little bit… jumpy.”
Joi shook, then nodded her head. She waved her hand in the air, aware that she probably looked a bit like a crazy person.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine, just a little… stressed because of some stuff back home. I’m okay.” She blew out an exasperated breath and shook her head again.
“What the fuck am I doing?” she muttered softly to herself. Raising her eyes, not even certain of when she’d lowered them, she offered Hendrix another smile. “I’m so sorry to have bothered you. I guess I’m just a smidge antsy and needed to talk to another person. Even if it was just for a minute. I will leave you alone now.”
With a wave, Joi turned to walk away, ignoring Hendrix’s calls for her to come back. Angelo was close. Really, really close. She could feel it in her bones, and she wasn’t the least bit prepared to see, much less to talk to him again.
She would have to though. Joi Young wasn’t a coward, not really. Her mother had reminded her of that, and Joi was finally listening. She was the daughter of Kevin and Jackie Young. They hadn’t raised her or her sister to be afraid. To run. To hide. They’d always been taught to confront life’s problems and unexpected situations head on.
They’d been raised to believe that they were queens. Descendants of African royalty, someone with the power that they had with that “Melanin Authority,” did not back down. They fought. They stood firm. They conquered.
But ever since Joi had met Angelo, she’d felt a bit as if she’d never stopped running from him. Running from the things he made her feel. Running from the things he made her want. Running from the possibilities of what they could be. Of what they might be.
Of what they might have.
Joi was sick of running, and she wasn’t going to do it anymore. As soon as Angelo showed up, they would talk. She would go toe-to-toe with him and tell him exactly how she felt.
And yet, as she made her way back to her vacation home, she knew she was a liar.
Chapter 13
Joi rushed back to the bathroom and fell to her knees, throwing up the lid of the toilet seat just before she became violently ill… for the fourth time that day. If she didn’t know better—and she did—she would think she was pregnant. But she’d need to have had sex since the last time she’d had her period for that to happen, unless she could get pregnant from Angelo’s fingers. Which she was pretty sure wasn’t medically possible. So there was something extremely wrong with her. Something none of the doctors could diagnose. Some type of idiopathic illness.
Flushing once she was sure that nothing else was going to come out, though how she even had anything to throw up in the first place was a surprise. She hadn’t been able to keep anything down in days… no, weeks. Three weeks to be exact. Since the day she’d run from Angelo.
It’s called lovesickness, her sister Kim’s voice reverberated in her mind and Joi scoffed, rolling her eyes at her reflection in the mirror above the sink as she stood in front of it, splashing her face with cold water. She reached out for her toothbrush and applied the Crest Pro-Health Whitening ™ toothpaste so she could brush her teeth. She was not lovesick. Regardless of what Kim thought, or Elisabeth, Lizzie, Talia, her mother, or father, Joi did not love Angelo. Hell, she’d only known the man for a day. She couldn’t love him. It was impossible.
Ridiculous.
Unbelievable.
The weight of guilt and yearning that sat like a stone in her belly, and the way her heart galloped at the mere thought of him, made a liar of her thoughts and internal declaration.
She was in lust with him. That she would attest to. But love? This wasn’t some romantic comedy playing on Lifetime ™ or Netflix ™ or that other channel with all the sappy, unrealistic romance movies on it. This was real life and in real life people did not fall in love after one day, a few hours, some kisses, and one unbelievable orgasm.
“Maybe you need two days then?” a deep voice said behind her, and Joi whipped around with a scream on her lips, that was cut off abruptly when the intruder—oh god, it was Angelo—captured her mouth with his own, planting a deeply possessive, hot, passionately angry kiss on her. Toothpaste and all.
Joi knew that she should probably protest. Push him away. Something to let him know that his advances weren’t wanted, but the thing was…
Holy. Fuck. She’d missed him sooo much.
Joi dropped her toothbrush to the floor and wrapped her arms around Angelo’s neck, trying to cl
imb him like a tree. God Almighty she felt so much better in his arms. The persistent nausea that had plagued her day and night since she’d fled to the Caribbean had abated completely. The way her skin had been uncomfortably tight, itchy, and always hot—almost feverish—had disappeared. The headache she’d gotten used to, and the tears that always seemed to be just beneath the surface, waiting to fall, all flew away in the press of Angelo’s mouth on her own.
Joi felt exultant. She felt light. Free.
Horny.
Before she could blink, or form a coherent thought, Angelo lifted her completely in his arms, her core resting against his erection, and carried her out of the bathroom into the bedroom, where he laid her down on the mattress with care. He lifted his head and glared down at her.
“You. Ran. From. Me,” he stated in a hard voice, his eyes flashing.
Joi swallowed thickly. “A-Angelo… I…”
Her words were cut off as Angelo lowered his head and took her lips in a brutal kiss again. Joi felt the sharp nick of a tooth on her bottom lip—probably her own, she’d been meaning to get to a dentist for a while now—and drops of blood filled her mouth. But before she could push Angelo away, his tongue swept over hers, and over her bottom lip, capturing the copper scented liquid. He sucked on her bottom lip harshly, causing Joi to moan, her fingers digging into the flesh of his biceps which were bared to her beneath his pink polo shirt. When he pulled away again, Joi felt breathless, dizzy, and completely befuddled. As if her brain had been sucked out through her bottom lip.
“You. Ran. From. Me,” he said again. His voice deeper this time. Almost a growl. “I told you not to run and you did.” Angelo shook his head. “You. Are. Mine, Joi. Your soul knows it. Your heart knows it. Even your body knows it. Time to make your mind know it.”