192: A Dark Mafia Bodyguard Romance

by Nikki Belaire

  “I said is she there?”

  I roar into the phone. Hurting my own damn ears. Deep down I already know the answer. But this motherfucker is going to help me. We both fucked her over before, and that’s sure as hell not happening again.

  “Yeah, man. He dragged her in about thirty minutes ago. I stalled him for as long as I could, but he finally told me to fuck off.”

  “How many guys?”

  “He has two with him. There’s four of us guarding the house. Most of the guys shifted to Dante after you killed Arturo and the rest left after she disappeared. Nothing really to guard here…until now.”

  “I’m two minutes out. Let me in. Don’t make me kill you.”

  “I told you I’d help, and I meant it.”

  I slam the gas and pray I don’t pass any cops. I don’t have time for anything but getting my girl back. The last rays of the sun shimmer on the tall spokes of the black steel fence lining the property. So damn close but a fucking barrier stands in our way. Literally. Fucking Harrison didn’t open the gate. Motherfucker.

  Unless Dante’s goons stopped him. Doesn’t take much to pique suspicion when the missing widow returns unexpectedly and against her will with the new king, and shortly afterward one of the former boss’s guards receives an urgent phone call. I swerve to the left, making a huge arc and zoom toward the entrance. Pretty sure my rental insurance won’t cover these damages.

  At the last second I duck down, fighting to keep my body from submitting to its instinct to brace hard against the impact. Which only causes more damage, straining overly taut tendons. Glass shards rain down on my already soaked back as the sound of twisting metal screeches in my ringing ears.

  The base of my spine clips the bottom of the steering wheel when I bounce back, making me see sparks of white light for a few seconds. Fuck. I swipe the sweat beading on my forehead with the back of my hand and shove the driver side door open using it as a shield. Two men race toward me. Both of them with their weapons drawn. I resist the urge to fire, needing to conserve my already limited rounds. Unsure at this point who’s the enemy and who isn’t. The stocky guy must be Dante’s guard since I’ve never seen him before. Denton runs next to him. Never liked that smug bastard anyway so no hardship to end him.

  I take a knee. Pretending I’m faltering to draw them closer without shooting if they think I’m not worth wasting their efforts. Palming the ground with my free hand, I act as if I’m tumbling forward only to flop on my stomach and then raise my arm catching each of them with a slug to the gut. The big guy collapses quickly but Denton’s a tough motherfucker and keeps moving forward.

  He’s obviously impacted by his gaping wound, even as he battles through the pain, and gets off a forced yet shaky shot, whizzing past my head too damn close. Jamming my elbow into the textured concrete hurts like a bitch yet worth the agony to give me the leverage to pop him in the forehead. Even he can’t win against a bullet to the brain and finally drops. I plug the other guy sprawled on his back in the head too just to be sure and jog toward the garage.

  Harrison’s hustling in my direction, and I aim at his heart. Not sure if he’s friend or foe at this point.

  “I got Zach.”

  He points over his shoulder to the wiry dude face down. The entire back of his head missing. I shrug in response. Not sure if I should give a damn or not since I don’t know who the fuck Zach is.

  “It’s Dante’s other guy.”

  Thank fuck. The battle much easier now with him eliminated. “Thanks man.”

  “Come on. She’s downstairs.”

  I want to ask if she’s okay. If she looked okay. If she was hurt. But I can’t bring myself to speak. Just run silently on the steps. Footsteps pound behind us so hard even the carpet can’t muffle them. I glance back. Relieved to see Nobbie and Yuan. Good guys. Well, as good as guys can be in this life.

  We cross the seam where new carpet’s been laid, and I pause at an entryway that wasn’t here before. The faint smell of paint and saw dust lingers in the air. Motherfucker. The room he scared Viviana with.

  I ease the door open with my toe, making sure the hinges don’t squeak and hold up my hand to the guys behind me. No one moves without my call.

  My princess fucking dangles from the ceiling. Wrists bound together. A blindfold drenched with her tears as she sobs quietly. Fucking god damn motherfucker. I suck in a deep breath through my nose. No time for emotion. Not yet anyway. I go into the zone. Focus only on the rescue. Get in. Get out. Get gone.

  With my girl.

  Fucker stands at an angle from us, fucking around with tools on a table before he straightens. Holding the wrapped handle of a black leather strap in his hand. An ominous smile lighting up his fucking ugly face as he flicks the whip a few times. Sickening smack against the concrete as Viviana flinches. Well aware what that revolting sound means.

  Hell the fuck no.

  Seemingly satisfied with his weapon of choice he nods, chuckling to himself and he turns around. I streak toward her, racing on the fury engulfing me and the whip slashes across my chest. Ripping through my shirt and slicing open the skin underneath. Burning like a motherfucker. And I god damn fucking revel in the agony. The pain making me higher than a fucking kite to know it’s me, not her, taking the abuse, and he’s going to fucking get his.

  Huge gray eyes meet mine. Never expecting me to show up and ruin his good time. “Your turn.”

  My fist connects with his jaw. Hard enough to knock him down but not out. That would be too good for him. Much too generous. He’s going to suffer. For her and all the other women he tortured. I nod to Harrison. “Tie him up.”

  Once the guard head bobs in agreement, I race to Viviana. “I’m here princess.”

  She cries out from my voice, my hands on her hips lifting her to my shoulder to relieve the strain on her arms while Nobbie cuts her down. “I’ve got you angel. You’re going to be okay.”

  I talk to her to keep her calm. “It’s all over now.”

  To keep myself calm. From fucking exploding that motherfucker would try to hurt someone so fragile and defenseless. “He’s never going to touch you again.”

  Finally, she’s free and crumples down. Muscles too weak to hold herself up. Which is fine because I’ve got her. I’ve fucking got her. Curling her into my ravaged chest, I kiss her sweet face. Over and over while she clings to me.

  “I—I wanted to sh—show you I could do it. I c—could come here and g—get the money for you–“

  Damn the fucking money. But this is more than about our finances, and we both know it. She wanted to be brave and strong and normal. Just too damn sweet and naïve to comprehend what lengths a bastard like Dante would go to for his own sick pleasure. “I know you did. I’m so proud of you.”

  She droops in relief. My approval all she needs to hear. Eager to receive to survive this. I carry her upstairs and outside to my demolished car, followed by Harrison who grabbed one of her old dresses from the closet. Fucking hate putting the clothes from her old life on her but she can’t be any more exposed or vulnerable than she already is. Exhausted and overwhelmed, she doesn’t seem to notice the outfit that motherfucker bought for her being tugged over her head and down her arms. Or my blood smeared on her breasts, stomach, and face. As long as it’s mine and not hers, I’m sane.

  I squat down and take her trembling hands in mine, meeting her weary gaze. “I have to take care of something. I’m only going to be gone for a few minutes but I’m going to lock you in before I go. Do not leave with anyone no matter who it is.”

  “Okay.”

  My sweet compliant angel. I’ve never been more grateful for her submission than in this moment. I kiss her damp forehead and ease the door shut as well as the driver’s side once I kick the body out of the way. Tapping the fob twice so the horn sounds in recognition of the lock engaging.

  Sweat rolls down my torso as I race back to the dungeon. To her fucking prison. Yuan stands guard over that bastard who remains sprawled
on the concrete hog tied and sprinkled with my blood. Moaning and shaking his head. Which will feel like fucking paradise once I’m finished with him. I nod toward the guard. “Help me get him up.”

  Dante’s in pretty good shape for a man his age. Not a slug like his brother. Although he’s not used to taking a hit. Too many bodyguards to protect him from any actual violence.

  Until now.

  We tie him in the same position he strung up my princess. Just because I’m a petty bastard, I shove him a few times. Letting him spin in agony. Sway around and around letting his muscles pull and strain. He cries out from the burning of the tendons ripping. Good. But not enough. Not nearly enough.

  I’ve heard the stories. Seen a few photos. Experienced my own fucking devastation from Viviana at his mercy a few minutes ago. Three quick punches to the gut, and he howls like a baby. Two jabs to the nose, and blood gushes down into his open mouth. Another duet to his kidneys, and he pukes. Luckily none of his bile splashes on me.

  His body convulses from shock, and he finally begs. Stop. Mercy. Please. And I don’t do a damn thing except smirk. “Is that what you did for all those girls when they were crying? Is that what you did for Viviana when she begged you to leave her alone? Nope, I didn’t think so.”

  I grab the whip lying on the textured stone and toss the handle from hand to hand. Getting a feel for the weight and flexibility. I’ve never wielded a strap this long before, and I’m beyond fucking thrilled this lucky bastard gets to be the recipient of my inexperienced efforts.

  Smacking the floor a few times myself, I provide him a reminder of the terror he instilled in my girl. The impending torture. Two. Three. Four. And then I strike. Flicking my wrist quick and hard, the leather slices across his thighs. Not too bad for a first effort if I do say so myself. “What do you think Dante? Everything you imagined?”

  Tears roll down his swollen cheeks when I strike his belly. His chest. His back. Working my way around his body until there’s no more skin visible to split. I step closer without touching his sorry ass. “You were right about one thing asshole. Your greatest pain is my greatest pleasure.”

  I’m done. Finished playing executioner. Through with punishing this motherfucker. My girl needs me. Tossing the strip away, I bypass the guts and blood and vomit smeared into a thick gel and head to the stairs. He can die scared and alone just like he left all of his victims. Except one.

  Another shock that Harrison and Nobbie stand guard by my vehicle. At least a pleasant surprise this time after all the hell that’s found me today. I extend my hand to each of them. “Thanks.”

  Harrison glances toward the demolished gate. “I wasn’t sure if any of Dante’s guys would make an appearance. I don’t give a damn about this place anymore, but I owed it to her to keep her safe.”

  “Yeah, we all do.”

  Now it’s her turn to stun me when she steps out of the backseat. Gripping the top of the door for stability but still stands of her own volition.

  “Are you okay?”

  I cup her tear-streaked face and nod. “I’m perfect now that I’m with you.”

  The charm works its usual magic, luring a weak yet sincere smile onto her lips. “With Arturo and Dante dead, this is all yours now angel. You have all the power and money you’ll ever need. Whatever you want to do, you can.”

  Her frail body sways from the enormity of my proclamation, and I wrap my arm around her waist. Supporting her physically and emotionally. Several minutes pass as she stares at the mansion. Only she really knows entirely what she endured at that bastard’s hands. Memories seeming to flit across her face as her gaze moves from the huge windows to the wrought iron balconies to the black front door.

  “Burn it to the ground.”

  Fuck. Me. Hard. Sweet, glorious revenge flames in her eyes that I never would have expected but fucking love almost as much as I love her. “As you wish, my princess.”

  I can’t help but laugh at the astonishment flooding the guys’ faces. “Okay boys, you heard the boss lady, burn this motherfucker down.”

  A few claps and cheers before Harrison and Nobbie race to the garage. I don’t think she’ll leave until there are ashes. Unless I make her. I step in front of her. Breaking the hypnotic gaze from the jail she no longer has to fear. She smiles an authentic smile. Really seeing me for the first time since I found her hanging from that motherfucker. Her cheek instantly settles into my palm when I stroke her satin skin. “You did good, angel.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, fucking amazing. But now it’s time for me to take you home.”

  Heavy lids sink shut, and she snuggles into me. All the fight gone. “Okay, thank you.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to hear her simple agreement.

  “All right, here are the last of the documents for you. Sign here please…and here…and right here.”

  At last. She receives what her grandfather intended. Plus, all of the Moretti family money too as Arturo’s widow. Including the insurance payout from the electrical fire that just so happened to engulf the mansion when the other Moretti heir was inside. Funny thing about that faulty wiring.

  Never enough to erase his abuse or the scars he left behind. Yet, fucking hilarious irony just the same. The rest of the crime lords can battle for control of the city. Hell this half of the country for all I care. Once she’s finished with the bank, we’ll go home never to return. Our future already perfect with or without the inheritance.

  The man slides the papers back to his side of the desk. Straightening the ends of the sheets on the elegant cherry wood and tucking the pile into the folder. “Very good. The deposits will be made into your accounts this afternoon and accessible tomorrow. Are there any other questions I can answer for you?”

  “No, I think we’re all settled. Thank you Mr. Carlson.”

  I fucking love how authoritative and poised she sounds. No wobbling in her voice or her handshake with the attorney when we all rise. Which I’ve seen more and more of the past few months. Fewer panic attacks and hesitation, with her confidence continuing to grow. In me and herself. While she’s still my sweet angel to the core, the haunted look and nervous demeanor have finally disappeared.

  “You’re welcome…” He glances at me and the diamond ring on her finger. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what name you prefer to go by now.”

  With one dainty hand entwined with mine and the other curled over our baby, loved and protected, safe in her belly, she smiles at him. “Mrs. Roan. Please call me Viviana Roan.”

  A week later

  “I need you.”

  My cock hardens instantly from her enticing voice behind me. Finally assertive enough to speak up and say what she wants. I’m a fucking lucky bastard that what she wants is me. “You’ve got it princess.”

  I set down the hammer and spin around. And almost fucking come in my jeans from her standing in the doorway wearing only her bra and panties, holding her dress in her hand. Confusion lining her forehead as she brushes across the chocolate dotting the yellow cotton.

  “I spilled batter and can’t remember which bottle I’m supposed to spray on stains.”

  So fucking gorgeous. All belly and breasts and beauty. Wide eyes meet mine as I stalk to her. My palms flat on my baby and my lips on her shoulder. Chuckling against her velvet skin. “Did your stomach get in the way again?”

  “It’s not funny. I…” Her gorgeous head falls back giving me even better access to her slender neck. “I just…”

  A moan steals her voice. Doesn’t matter. Words aren’t necessary anymore. Silky fabric tickles down my legs before her clothes land at my feet and her fingertips clutch my biceps as I sheath her against me. Her bump warm and hard against my equally hard dick. “I need you too.”

  “But the brownies will burn.”

  “Fuck the brownies.” I scoop her up, guiding her legs around my waist, and carry her back to my work bench. Just the right height for her pussy to align with my hungry cock. “
You’ve got something much sweeter I want to taste.”

  I shove my tools out of the way and lay her back. Growling as she lifts her narrow hips for me to glide off her little white thong. I kiss my way back up her slender calves and thighs. Side to side giving each leg equal treatment until I reach her glistening folds and lap her like ice cream while she squeals. Fingers scraping my scalp holding me exactly where she likes me, which just so happens to be my favorite place to be as well. “Never hurts to have dessert first.”

  THE END

  The Surviving Absolution series:

  Wine & Whiskey

  Wine & Whiskey: Everything for You

  Truth About Tequila

  Truth About Tequila: Believe in Me

  Stand Alone Books:

  Straight, No Chaser

  On the Rocks

  Under the Influence

  Nikki writes contemporary romantic thrillers and admits to a weakness for alpha males and bad boys, especially ones who can’t live without the strong women they love. She spends more time in her characters’ lives than her own. But, when she’s in the real world, her passions include reading, wine appreciating, running, and spending time with her husband and daughter.

  Connect with Nikki:

  Reader’s Group: Nikki’s Naughty Tequilas

  Website: www.nikkibelaire.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/NikkiBelaire

  Facebook Author Page: www.facebook.com/NikkiBelaireAuthor

  Want to read more by Nikki? Check out the first chapter of On the Rocks, a dark mafia romance…

  I lift my hips, welcoming him as he crawls up my torso, coating his stomach with my arousal, after his lavish attention between my legs. Savoring his slick body sheathing mine again, I coil around him, breathing in his clean scent. Saturated now with the heady musk of our love making.

  Fine beads of moisture dapple his forehead. Glistening on his olive skin, glowing from the burgeoning golden light streaming through voile sheers that drape the vast windows. Drenched from exertion. Shaking from the struggle of his self-imposed restraint. So tender as he moves inside of me. Always cautious. Forever gentle.