by Piper Stone
“I’m telling you that today is your lucky day.” I moved toward the door, taking another look at my father’s body. “I think if you have a little chat with the police commissioner, you’ll get a better understanding of what to expect in the future. Since either one of my brothers or I will be returning to this great city from time to time, I expect that you’ll watch out for the lowlifes who might make our trip more… difficult. Is that something I can count on from you?”
The poor kid had likely gotten his shield recently. He had had no idea that being assigned the case wasn’t the glamorous career boost he’d hoped for.
“Is that a threat, Mr. Benedetti?”
I couldn’t help but notice his voice was much softer than before. Perhaps there was even a slight tremble. I had that kind of effect on people for good reason. “Of course not, Detective. I don’t make threats. I am a very civilized businessman from Tuscany here to handle a family tragedy. However, I do make promises and I always keep them.”
As I walked out, a sense of relief swept through me.
The city had no idea what the family was capable of, the violence that could rain down on their streets. They would learn soon enough.
And so would the three men who’d violated my father’s trust.
This was only the beginning of our reign of terror.
Chapter 6
Catherine
“You are my daughter, and you will do as I say.”
“That’s bullshit, Dad. We don’t live in the dark ages,” I retorted. My anger had kept me awake all night, my decision to confront my parents the only thing that would give me some kind of solace. I would not go through with the unholy union no matter what it cost me. As my father inched closer, I held my head high. I’d made peace with the fact that I’d be pushed out of their lives, but that was better than the alternative.
“I’ve given you everything over the years. Do you know how much money you’ve cost me for your education? Ballet classes. Piano lessons. Language lessons. Jesus Christ. How dare you act as if you don’t owe me.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing or the way my mother sat demurely, her perfectly painted red lips formed in a smirk.
“My God. You disgust me,” I hissed, my throat tightening. “When did you sell your soul to the devil, Dad? Is this really about money? Are you that greedy that selling off your daughter means nothing to you other than more cash and power? Or did you enter into bed with the O’Sullivan mafia family like I heard?”
The hard slap was a shock, but not because of the pain. I backed away, cupping my cheek and shaking my head. Tears sprang to my eyes from the realization that my father was no better than a man like Matteo. “You are dead to me. Both of you.” I managed to keep the building sobs from materializing as I raced toward the front door, throwing it open.
Within seconds, I stopped short, a wave of paralyzing fear sweeping through me.
Matteo.
He was leaning against a dark sedan, his arms folded and a smile on his face. Dark shades covered his eyes, but I knew he was studying me intently. The wind tousled his hair, the shadow of a two-day stubble framing his chiseled jaw.
“Hello, la mia principessa. Unfortunately, it would appear that you can’t be trusted. What a pity. And here I thought we were getting along so well.”
I backed away as a huge, rough-looking man approached. My nerves were shot, my mind a blur. Had my parents set me up for this? No, they couldn’t have. I barged in on them. That meant the bastard had been watching me. “What the hell is this?”
Matteo eased away from the vehicle, nodding to the other man. “You can call this an intervention.”
“I don’t think so.”
Before I had a chance to run, the second brute grabbed my arm, throwing a hand across my mouth. Even though I struggled, the man was far too strong.
Matteo approached slowly, removing his sunglasses, his gaze admonishing.
“You disappoint me, my beautiful bride, but we will deal with that later. I am sorry that I feel the need to do this.”
The brute pulled my head to the side, preventing me from being able to see what Matteo was doing.
I moaned, fighting with every ounce of strength I had. But as soon as I felt a prick in my skin, I closed my eyes, a single tear slipping past my eyelashes. Within seconds, there was a dull ringing in my ears and I was woozy. No, I couldn’t lose consciousness. Please. No! “You… fucking… bastard.”
“Don’t worry,” Matteo whispered, his hot breath cascading across my cheek. “I will always take care of you, protecting and cherishing you. Soon you will accept your fate. And very soon you will become my wife.”
My wedding day.
When I’d been a little girl, I’d insisted more than once that for Halloween to dress up as a bride. At that point, my mother had enjoyed making my costume from scratch, taking her time to find the perfect satin and lace. Every dress had been unique and special. Then my mother would remind me that there was a handsome, rugged prince who would one day sweep me off my feet. Then I’d live happily ever after.
Bullshit.
However, through the years I’d created that perfect man in my mind. He had dark hair and gorgeous green eyes, so tall and muscular that he could fight any horrible creature who might try to cause me harm.
Little did I know that I’d actually imagined a monster.
I laughed bitterly as I realized that all those fantasies that I’d had so long ago had come true. In less than an hour, I would take my sacred vows with a horrible beast. To have and to hold.
Until death do us part.
Prisoner.
The word was never far from my mind. I’d awakened in a gorgeous yet locked suite like Cinderella held in a castle. I honestly had no idea how many days I’d been here, five or six. Time seemed to mean nothing at this point. While Matteo had visited me, servants providing dinner for both of us in my room at his insistence, he hadn’t touched me other than to brush his knuckles across my cheek since our arrival.
Now that was about to change.
I’d been brought to a small but ornate church. That had been the first time I’d seen more than fleeting glimpses of my surroundings. The small room I’d been placed was in a new portion of the church, but the scent of the stone walls indicating the age of the establishment seemed to permeate the space.
I remained in the only chair in the room, having pulled it away from the vanity and near the open window. The day was gorgeous with blue skies and fluffy clouds, the rolling hills of green lush and full and the mountains in the distance spectacular. However, other than the short drive to the church, I knew almost nothing about where I’d been taken. I’d been led from one locked room to another, the young girl sent to help me dress for the festivities scuttling away to retrieve a bottle of water like I’d asked.
Fortunately, the young girl who’d been assigned to care for my every need had enlightened me to the city. Tuscany. The limited scenery I’d been allowed to see was incredible, lush and so green that it appeared more like a painting than reality. Under any other circumstances I would be thrilled.
Not today. Not ever.
At least the warm breeze was invigorating, allowing the most amazing fragrances to float into the room. I took a deep breath as I gazed at the dress that had been made for me from the finest silk and satin in the world. At least that’s what the designer had told me in her flurry of activity the first day I’d awakened from whatever drug I’d been given.
I had to admit that I’d never seen anything so exquisite in my life, the adornments of mother of pearl inlay on the cathedral train incredible. The gown was fit for a queen.
Or a princess.
A mafia princess.
My thoughts drifted to the wretched last moment I’d had with my parents. As I did so, I pressed my hand against my face, no longer feeling any tenderness from my father’s outburst, yet the ache in my heart would never leave.
I’d only felt the sting of my father’s
slap once before and that had been years ago. The reason? I’d stayed out past curfew with a boy my father couldn’t stand. That had been the day I’d been forced to accept that my father believed himself to be king of the household, my mother’s role only to support him.
That had also been the day I’d made a promise to live my life entirely differently and that no man would ever take control over me. Yet here I was sitting in a locked room, a wedding dress hanging only inches away.
Bitterness.
Rage.
I’d never felt such anger or hatred for anyone in my life as I did for my father. Even my mother had acted as if the arrangement was something that I should embrace instead of expressing my rage toward my father. I’d seen the look on her face more than once, her expression plastic and without emotion. My father had insisted that she go along with the blasphemous decision.
Her last words were something I would never forget.
“Make me proud of you.”
Proud?
The only way I’d consider trying to make her proud was by bringing Matteo’s head in a box home to her as a present. At least I could smile at the thought; certainly nothing else I’d been through in the last couple of days had allowed me to. I should have left the New York City the second Matteo had walked out my door the first time. Instead, I’d wanted to confront my father.
I closed my eyes as soon as I heard the sound of the lock being disengaged. There was nothing I could do to get out of what I’d be forced to face. I’d tried to convince myself that I could become the good girl that Matteo required, buying me time to find a way to get away from him. How I wasn’t certain, especially since I had no passport or identification with me. There was nothing that would prove who I was.
“I know. I must get dressed or else. I will, Maria.” Or face punishment. I had no doubt the girl hovering over me constantly provided every detail of what I said or did when she brought me food or another set of clothing. I’d even dared to ask her early on if she would get me some help and call the authorities. She’d simply looked at me with her big doe eyes as if she was confused.
But I knew better. There was no doubt Matteo had found out.
When the girl didn’t even attempt to say anything in what little English she’d learned, I tensed. Then I felt his presence and heard the sound of his footsteps as he approached. I wanted to be courageous and tell Matteo exactly what I thought about him, but almost all of the fight had been taken away from me from being incarcerated like a common criminal.
“Yes, you will need to get dressed. Your guests are already starting to arrive.” His tone was just as sultry as always, although there was more of a lilt today. As if the man was truly happy with the horror show that was about to transpire.
Sighing, I opened my eyes as I stood, turning to face him. My God, the man was absolutely gorgeous, the white jacket of his tuxedo an unexpected touch. The smile on his face was almost boyish. If I’d met him on the street, I’d think he was the most handsome man on the planet. But I knew the real man inside as well as the darkness surrounding his constant hunger.
He would ravage me tonight for hours, taking me in every brutal way that he’d mentioned more than a week before.
“They aren’t my guests, Matteo. They are yours. They are likely in attendance because you threatened them with retaliation if they weren’t.”
Chuckling, he walked closer. He had a present of some kind in his hand, the beautiful silver wrapping and bright red bow catching my eye. Sadly, the color of the ribbon only reminded me of blood.
“You truly don’t know how highly respected my family has been for generations. We have many friends in several countries, all very happy that I’ve found my perfect mate especially since the tragedy of losing my father.”
He’d reminded me of the horrible fact more than once. My stomach churned as he walked closer, the exotic scent of his cologne instantly intoxicating. “That means you’ve hidden behind a mask for your entire life.”
Narrowing his eyes, he finally closed the distance. “We all hide behind masks, my princess, even you. There is no such thing as a fairytale.”
It was as if the bastard had been reading my mind. “I don’t believe that. There is true love, Matteo, whether you want to believe it or not.”
“I do believe in love, Catherine. I have something for you.” When I refused to accept the present, he gingerly placed it on the vanity, taking the time to touch the ribbon before shifting his head in my direction. “I assure you that it’s nothing that will harm you. I hope that it brings you a smile. There will be many more gifts like this one in the future.”
“As long as I’m a good girl. Right?”
His eyes flashed but he said nothing, merely lowering his head and pressing his lips against my cheek. “You are the epitome of a princess. I will be honored to stand by your side. I hope that you will wear the gift I bought you. The piece will look stunning on my princessa.”
God, I hated the word.
The whispered kiss brought shivers down my spine, my body instantly reacting to his. My breath was stolen, my heart racing. A flush of heat flew into my cheeks as every part of me became aroused. I loathed that part of me, the deep hunger that I felt every time he was in the room.
I clamped my hand around the box, fighting everything I had inside of me not to crush it in my fingers. The closeness of his body made me jittery, every nerve ending standing on end. He had some kind of power over me, his entire body exuding sensuality.
“So very beautiful.” He brushed a finger down my cheek then along my jawline, slowly rubbing it back and forth across my chin before moving down the side of my neck.
I held my breath as he slowly tugged on the sash to my robe, unable to stop him from peeling away the edges then pushing until the terrycloth fell to the floor. The design of the dress was such that I neither needed nor could wear a bra and as he cupped my breasts, a growl erupted from his throat. Quivering, I found it difficult to swallow as he fondled my nipples, rolling them between his fingers.
Lights flashed in front of my eyes the second he pinched both, twisting and pulling until I whimpered. The pain was intense, but every time he brought his fingers together, my pussy muscles clamped down. I was sickened by the wave of desire that rushed through me, sizzling every nerve and tightening every muscle.
“Does that feel good, my bride?” he asked, the husky tone more like a whisper.
I opened my mouth to object but as he lowered his head, engulfing one of my hardened buds, all I could do was try to control my breathing. As a moan mixed with my breathless sounds, he chuckled in his usual dark and evil way.
As if he knew he was winning the game, arousing me to the point I would never be able to refuse him.
I closed my eyes, pretending that a monster wasn’t pleasuring me. My mouth was suddenly dry, my blood pumping to the point echoes bounced in my ears.
His sounds deliciously guttural, he rolled his lips to my other breast, darting his tongue under the crease before swirling the tip around my aching bud. He took his time soothing my bruised tissue, laving his wet tongue from one to the other.
When he eased back, he licked his lips in an exaggerated manner, his eyes deepening in color. “Mi divertiro a portarti,” he whispered.
“What did you say?”
He licked between my breasts as he lowered his hand, slipping several fingers under the thin elastic of my panties. “I said that I would enjoy taking you.”
There was something even more possessive about his words, his statement merely a fact and nothing else.
A whimper gave my continued arousal away and even though I bit my lip, a smile crossed his face.
“What a perfect color for my rebellious bride.”
While the majority of brides might choose to tie in the nod to blue in the color of their panties, I’d selected crimson red from the selection of lingerie he’d provided. Maybe that was my rebellious side refusing to back down.
He took a deep
breath as he shifted his gaze between my legs. The bulge between his indicated how aroused he’d become.
Everything about his behavior was entirely different, more controlled as he gently rolled his fingertips all the way down both my arms. His touch created wave after wave of shivers, the electricity we shared off the charts. I could no longer keep from moaning softly as he swirled his fingers around my clit.
As he alternated from pinching to rubbing, he whispered a series of words in Italian, all of which were provocative and none of which I could understand. However, they were soothing, his voice dripping with the kind of passion that was usually unachievable.
I was lulled into a sweet moment of peace as he rubbed up and down the length of my pussy. My body reacted almost instantly, the tingling sensations becoming strong vibrations that kept my pulse on the edge and my mind a flurry of filthy thoughts.
A part of me was so stimulated that I didn’t care what happened, my hunger far too intense to have any self-control. I could no longer focus as he thrust two fingers inside, but I realized only afterwards that I’d opened my legs wider, giving him access to taking what didn’t belong to him. None of that seemed to matter any longer. There was no stopping the inevitable.
As he continued pleasuring me, a series of images rushed into my mind. His sculpted body. His gorgeous carved ass. His long, thick cock. I’d lost a portion of myself to the incredible heat we shared, the kind of desire that would never be sated.
Matteo refused to take his eyes off me as he finger-fucked my tight channel, but the smile had returned.
Sexy.
Obsessive.
Demanding.
I couldn’t stop panting as a climax quickly shifted into my system.
“Oh… Um…”
“That’s it, my beautiful princess. I want you to come for me.” His statement wasn’t a hopeful request but a demand that I begin to fully embrace that I would always follow his rules, no matter what he asked.
Hatred and anger remained deep inside, but the draw I had to the man could not be denied. My heart hammered against my chest, my mind remaining a blur, and within seconds, there was nothing I could do to hold back.