King's Captive: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Piper Stone

  “I will find the bastard who killed her. One day. When I do, the man will pay.”

  The persona that I knew well had returned in full force, his frustration rolling off his body like extreme heat. The menacing expression on his face took my breath away. How could he be so passionate one minute then cold and calculating the next?

  “You can’t live in the past,” I half whispered. “Bella wouldn’t want that.”

  He snorted and returned to the bar, refilling his glass. “That’s the only way I know how to live, Emily. Perhaps that will change when we’ve said our vows.”

  “You’re not going to make me do this. Please.”

  “I have no choice, Emily. None. I will try and give you a perfect fairytale wedding.”

  “Fairytales don’t come true, Cristiano, and even if they did, they usually have a knight in shining armor, the hero prepared to die for the woman he loves. That’s never going to be the case.”

  “I would die for you. You will be my family.”

  “That’s not love, Cristiano. As a matter of fact, I’m not entirely certain you’re even capable of a complex emotion like love. What you’ve described is nothing more than a responsibility, some sick promise made because of your lifestyle and the decisions you made in your life. And guilt. I need a man who will love and care for me, not an arranged marriage to a…”

  “Monster,” he finished for me.

  “What if I fight you on the wedding? What then?”

  He slowly turned his head, taking a deep breath.

  I knew the answer.

  I’d disappear permanently.

  I didn’t bother to say anything. What was there left to be said? He’d determined the course of the rest of my life and at this point, there was nothing I could do. Escape? The possibility seemed slim. Could I earn his trust then contest the marriage at a later time? Maybe that was my only option, but by then, I would definitely have a bigger target on my back as being the former wife of one of the brothers of the New Orleans mafia.

  A nervous laugh threatened to bubble up from my chest. I felt giddy, my mind reeling from his demands. I gave him a hard look before leaving the room, moving quickly toward the kitchen. Of course he would follow me, issuing another set of demands, punishing me for whatever additional rules that I’d broken.

  I grabbed another wineglass, filling it to the rim, waiting for a full two minutes. When he didn’t swagger into the room, I simply took my time, shoving the lingerie and clothing into whatever bag I grabbed. My hands shaking, I selected a few of them then headed for the stairs. That’s when I felt his presence, the larger than life man studying me from a distance. I didn’t bother looking in his direction. I didn’t care any longer what he had to say to me. I was numb, unable to feel my feet as I walked up the stairs.

  A part of me wanted to find a way to jump out the window, to end this charade. But there was another portion that continued to crave him, the ache in my tummy increasing with every passing second. He’d managed to slither into my world, claiming a slice of my soul.

  And my heart.

  How in the hell was that even possible?

  He’d been nothing but horrible to me over the last twenty-four hours, acting as if I was a beautiful doll that he could place in a corner, waiting for his arrival and filthy use. Yet there’d been a spark, his emotions disturbing on so many levels. I’d even seen the look in his eyes change as he’d expressed his remorse and guilt.

  The kind of love that I’d been searching for my entire life wasn’t something he could provide, even if his adoration of his sister, as well as the rest of his family, was captivating.

  Special.

  Honorable.

  What that even possible with a brutal man like Cristiano?

  I tossed the bags, took a gulp of wine, and turned to stare at the massive bed. What the hell was I doing? I refused to become emotional, swallowing hard as tears attempted to form all over again. Nope. That wasn’t going to happen. I had to develop enough strength to get through this horrible wedding.

  Then I would find a way to scream to the world that I was nothing more than a captive.

  After taking another swig of wine, I placed the glass on his beloved dresser with enough force that wine sloshed out over the edges. What the hell did I care?

  A maniacal smile crossed my face as I tossed the clothes on the beautifully upholstered chair in the corner of the room, pitching the empty bags. Then I grabbed the most incredible baby doll gown, humming as I walked into the bathroom. The tattered dress was the last of my past. I yanked the shoulders, continuing the tear the bastard had already started, finally ripping the seams before dragging it over my head and throwing it against the wall.

  While a tantrum meant nothing, likely to invoke another moment of his wrath, it certainly made me feel a hell of a lot better. When I slid into the soft silk, the gown fitting me perfectly, I stared at my reflection. The girl’s haunted face glaring back at me was someone I didn’t recognize.

  Would he actually kill me if I refused to marry him?

  I shuddered at the thought, honestly uncertain of the answer. We had an amazing connection, perhaps even a bond, but his business was more important. That was obvious. I tilted my head, allowing my gaze to fall to my shoulders then my breasts. I had to admit that the gorgeous frock was the beginning of a romantic adventure.

  At least it was supposed to be.

  But we weren’t a couple, just plastic soldiers in a war that I couldn’t understand.

  My feet remained heavy as I turned out the light, heading for the bed and pulling down the covers. When I crawled inside, tugging the covers over my head, I closed my eyes and envisioned the perfect wedding.

  A white dress adorned with jewels and beads.

  A long veil sweeping a beautiful marble floor.

  The most incredible classical music filling a hall full of joyous guests.

  Amazing food and drink, the finest wines and champagnes.

  Dozens of white and sterling silver roses placed on every table, their scent permeating the air.

  And a handsome, loving man prepared to sweep me off my feet, a true knight in shining armor.

  I sank further under the crisp cotton sheets, shivering even more than before.

  The visions had nothing to do with reality, yet the picturesque images were ones from every little girl’s dream.

  And revelations from my nightmare.

  Chapter 13

  Cristiano

  Rage.

  As I swept my arm across the desk, I took no comfort in the sound of breaking glass or the hard thudding my laptop made when it smashed against the hardwood floor. I threw my arms behind my head, intertwining my fingers as I paced the floor, trying to wrangle in my emotions. Why had Emily searched through my things?

  Because you can’t allow her into your world. Because you’re the very monster she’d accused you of being. Because she’s drawn to you.

  Drawn to me. I almost laughed at the thought.

  The damn music was still playing, a melodic instrumental that was driving me insane. I took long steps toward the CD player, ready to fist the console. Huffing, I reined in my anger, at least enough to press the off button. She’d gotten all the way under my skin, digging her way into the furthest reaches of my mind. My soul.

  Hell, even my heart.

  How the hell had I allowed my guard to fall with her?

  I took a deep breath, closing my eyes briefly before walking back to my desk, glaring down at the debris. If Joseph was correct, the iron fist my father had used for four decades was coming back to bite him. The list of enemies was far too extensive to easily determine the choice candidates. Whatever the case, Enrique Vendez would need to be found. I would have a more formal discussion with my father in the morning.

  However, I’d become convinced there would be another attempt on my life. Right now, I had to push that aside.

  Dealing with Emily took precedence at this point.

  I slamm
ed my hands on my desk, shoving the last remaining items onto the floor, a bitter smile crossing my face. There was no sense in admonishing my behavior; however, I would be required to get my shit together.

  It would also be necessary to face that I actually cared about the woman. My father had told me that I was making a rash decision, relying far too heavily on Joseph’s suggestion. However, my father had never spent time behind bars. He also still believed that every enemy we came into contact with could be bought. It had become painfully obvious that wasn’t the case. And our Consigliere was absolutely correct about one thing.

  Times had changed since the old days, something my father had refused to accept for far too long. That had stymied our growth, even hindered our legitimate businesses. I’d been on the cusp of bringing the King organization into the world of internet business, something that was long overdue, when the attempted assassination had occurred.

  I opened one of my desk drawers, retrieving Emily’s phone. By just pressing on the screen, I was able to see there were at least two calls, but nothing from her friend. It would seem Julia had believed Emily’s story.

  However, the other two calls were from in town. I would need to ask her who they were from. Something about her story still didn’t add up to me. I slid the phone back in the drawer, thinking about everything she’d told me. There were definitely missing pieces.

  I would need Emily by my side in order to flush out Vendez. She would need to learn to trust me, although I’d given her no reason to do so up to this point. Our coveted connection wasn’t enough to create the kind of bond needed. That would take time, something we didn’t have. With Griffin Williams prepared to announce a new trial date, our marriage was the single factor that could stop the continuation of the case. That could allow for time to find Vendez. The mystery man would certainly be pissed that I’d found a way to thwart the system, which would definitely place her life in further danger.

  I took a deep breath, still able to gather her scent. The taste of her had been just as delicious, perhaps even more so. I’d caught a glimpse into her soul after telling her about Bella. I’d sensed her need to comfort me. And I’d felt a portion of the shield that I’d worn since Bella’s death falling away. Perhaps I could find a way to give Emily what she needed in order to learn to trust me, at least enough to be able to keep her safe.

  My mother would remind me that while powerful men were enticing, those who knew the right moment when to be tender, even romantic were exactly what women needed. Whether or not she’d ever seen that side of my father remained uncertain. All he’d ever portrayed to his children was a firm hand and a gruff demeanor.

  Except with his grandchildren.

  I laughed softly to myself as I walked toward the kitchen. He doted on Michael’s children as if they were the only thing that mattered in his world, showering them with presents. Maybe my father was growing a soft spot after all.

  Tonight, I would take my mother’s advice for the first time since becoming a man. I’d indulge a woman with exactly what she needed. Well, as much as I could fathom giving to her anyway.

  I turned on the security system, double checking that everything was in order before I entered the kitchen. The sight of several bright pink bags scattered across the table was just another reminder that I had a guest in the house. I was surprised given our heated conversation that she’d accepted the gifts, taking at least a few of the pieces of clothing and other things with her.

  What she left in the middle of the table was the plug. Still defiant. Still refusing to accept my command. I rolled the plug between my fingers, envisioning her wearing it. One day, I would purchase her one made of stainless steel, the jewel located on the end a stunning ruby, exactly what she deserved. I snagged the lubricant, placing both in my pocket. Tonight, we would begin her training.

  Soon, she would get a taste of my darker needs.

  I stood staring at the remaining items for a full two minutes before grabbing a second bottle of wine and the opener, taking my time to remove the cork. As I grabbed a platter from the cabinet, I also realized that I’d never shared a meal with anyone in my house. Not once. I treated the location as a landing spot, not as a home. While I could use the excuse that I’d traveled for business, spending a significant amount of time in other cities, even countries, that would be a part of the protection I’d layered around myself.

  I’d never wanted to get close to anyone ever again, the pain of losing them too great.

  After yanking open the refrigerator, I couldn’t help but smile. Dimitri had indeed made certain that everything he knew I liked had been purchased, ready for my return.

  And I’d treated him like an inconvenience, a man who’d been with me since my return from college. He’d become more like a friend than a Capo, something I needed to keep in mind.

  Hell, I had no other friends.

  Smirking, I took my time preparing enough food for both of us, the fruit and cheese barely substantial but at least edible.

  As I carried the wine and the plate of food up the stairs, uncertain of what I would find, I couldn’t take my thoughts off of her. Emily was certainly resourceful, her determination to fight me continuing. The majority of women would have cracked by now, surrendering to the bad man who held them captive. Not the beautiful blonde with the cornflower blue eyes.

  The warm glow of the light filtering into the hallway gave me pause. She was in my house, sleeping in my bed, and I had a moment of awkwardness before walking into the room. Just the sight of a few strands of long hair billowing from under the covers was enough to make my cock ache all over again. While there were still vile, filthy things I hungered to do to her, to share with her, I was forced to remind myself that my sadistic needs would have to wait.

  For the time being.

  She didn’t stir at first, her breathing remaining even as I walked around the bed, forced to remove scattered bags from the small table next to the corner chair. She’d dumped everything she’d brought into the room out of anger, leaving the mess for another time. When I placed the plate on the table, I could hear her slight movements, a rustle of the sheets.

  I filled an empty glass, realizing she’d brought her wine with her, although it appeared untouched. As I removed my jacket, I noticed that she’d riffled through every drawer. She was definitely resourceful.

  After removing the holster, I placed the gun in the nightstand drawer. While I needed quick and easy access, I also couldn’t put it past her that she would attempt to secure it in the middle of the night.

  And I had no intention of handcuffing her.

  Not unless she was a very bad girl.

  I placed the anal plug and tube of lubricant on the nightstand by her glass of wine, unable to keep the smile off my face.

  When I was fully undressed, I pushed the bags off the corner chair, easing down and taking the wine into my hand. From where I sat, I was able to catch a glimpse of her face. By the change in her breathing, I knew she was awake, likely waiting until I fell asleep to make another attempt at escape. Given I was wired as fuck, I could stay awake all night if necessary, defying her resolve.

  The quiet in the room was oppressive. There was little wind outside, no thunderstorms to interfere in the silence. I took a sip of wine, unable to take my eyes off her. The line in the sand had been drawn, the requirements laid out as if a contract. She would either accept, allowing for a festive event or I’d use the same handcuffs to drag her down the aisle. The thought fueled my sadistic side even as my mother’s voice attempted to remind me which I preferred.

  Perhaps a little of both.

  A gnawing in my stomach was a reminder that I hadn’t eaten all day. Food had been the last of my desires, but sustenance would become necessary. I took a strawberry from the platter, holding the juicy piece of fruit into the light, the intense vibrant color indicating just how ripe it was.

  The color of hearts.

  The color of a perfect rose.

  The color of bl
ood.

  As I bit into it, a single bead of juice trickled past my lips, cascading down to my jaw. Delicious and perfect. Just like Emily. After taking another bite, I heard another rustle of the sheets, could see her open eyes staring at me, her lips the same hue as the strawberry. I didn’t say a word as I consumed the rest, very slowly placing the bright green stalk on the platter and selecting another. I twirled it back and forth several times, cognizant she was watching every move I made.

  “Sweet. Ripe. Delectable. You should come join me.” I kept my voice low, yet the husky tone refused to be denied. I bit into the second piece, half closing my eyes as the fragrance filled my nostrils.

  There was a heightened level of desire in her eyes, but I wasn’t certain if it had to do with the plate full of food or her hunger for something more carnal in nature.

  “I’m not hungry,” she whispered, purposely shifting onto her other side and away from me.

  “Come now, Emily. I haven’t poisoned the food if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “What I’m thinking? You have no idea,” she stated as she finally moved to a sitting position, allowing the covers to fall.

  Another surprise hit me hard, my cock standing at full attention from the way the silk lingerie accentuated her breasts. The color, a soft blush, was perfect for her, subtle yet provocative.

  Innocent.

  She seemed uncomfortable at the way I was looking at her yet she didn’t look away nor did she yank the covers over her. She did glare at the plug, making a face of revulsion.

  My cock stirred just thinking about placing it between her lovely ass cheeks.

  “Then what are you thinking, Emily?’

  “I’m thinking that you’re crazy if you think I’m going to marry you.” She stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing, her tone entirely different. “I’m thinking that I’m really… so sorry about Bella. And I’m thinking that I should apologize for snooping. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I’m thinking I’m still in a nightmare.”

  The sincerity of her words was surprising. “I’ve never tried to pretend I was a good man, Emily. You were right from the beginning that I am the kind of monster nightmares are made of, but I am also capable of loving, whether you can believe that or not. And you’re right that certain decisions I’ve made have placed myself and my family in a precarious position, but what you don’t understand is that I had no choice to enter into this life.”