My Beautiful

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My Beautiful Page 1

by J. M. La Rocca




  Copyright © 2013 by J.M. La Rocca

  Cover Design by Sharee Faircloth of Sharee Faircloth Creative

  Editing by Becky Johnson of Hot Tree Editing

  Interior design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To my husband Tony, who has supported me from the beginning and helped me follow my dream. And to my twins Dominic and Vincent, who put up with me while I was having ‘writing time’.

  I opened the door. Bryce stood there wearing low-fitted dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. His dark-blond hair was a mess, like he’d been running his hands through it constantly. His ocean blue eyes penetrated me, and I had a brief sense of anxiety wash over me.

  What is he doing here? I had no idea why he would be showing up at my door.

  “We need to talk,” he said firmly before he walked in. Unceremoniously, he grabbed my waist and kissed me.

  Taken off guard, I stumbled slightly. He walked me backwards and kicked the door closed. Putting my hands up on his chest, I attempted to push him away, but he held me tight, running his tongue along the seam on my mouth.

  An unexpected need flowed through me. Bryce was not who I wanted to be kissing, but I needed to wash away the sorrow I felt deep down in my soul, so I simply opened up to him. Closing my eyes, I let the feeling of being wanted take over. His lips were soft and he tasted like peppermint. His kisses were hard and hungry. I reciprocated, tasting all of him.

  Kade was still at the forefront of my mind; I needed him out of it. Allowing Bryce’s hot kisses, regardless of my lack of feelings for him, was the last thing to try. I convinced myself that just maybe this was what I needed, someone to take the pain away.

  I ran my hands from his chest up to his neck, and into his hair. I pulled him closer to me, deepening the kiss as he ran his hands up and down my back, until they finally settled on my ass. Gripping me, he pulled me closer, causing me to moan into his mouth. The closeness felt good. Just as the moan escaped, the feeling of guilt overwhelmed me. Images of Kade flashed through my mind, his dark brown eyes and hair, his plump luscious lips, his handsome smile, his rock hard body. The way his strong hands would gently caress my body. All of it.

  Dropping my hands from his hair, I pushed back on his chest. We were both breathing heavily as we looked at each other.

  I took a step back trying to compose myself. “I can’t Bryce,” I whispered.

  He looked at me with a furrowed brow and a frown, like he regretted his actions.

  Breaking eye contact, I walked back into the living room and took a seat on the leather couch. I brought a hand up to my mouth and closed my eyes as the tears started to well up. What was I doing? Sleeping with someone else wouldn’t make the pain go away.

  Bryce walked over and sat beside me.

  “I’m sorry, Scarlett. That shouldn’t have happened. I don’t … I just …” he sighed. “I’ve always found you attractive. It was an impulsive move that will never happen again. Unless, you want it to.”

  I opened my eyes and looked at him. He ran his hands through his hair again. He was definitely a good-looking guy. Although I wanted to be ready to move on, I just wasn’t ready yet. “What are you doing here?”

  “Honestly? I came by to make sure you were okay.” He leaned over with his elbows on his knees clasping his hands together. “I had no intention of …” He trailed off. “Not that I wouldn’t have enjoyed−”

  “Bryce!” I interrupted, embarrassment heating my cheeks.

  “Alright,” he laughed. “I’m sorry. I really did come by to make sure you were okay after what happened the other night.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to talk about it.” I looked out the window of the apartment, focusing on the lights of the city. “If all you wanted to do was see if I was okay, then you can see that I’m fine. You can leave now.”

  I told myself I was done crying, but having Bryce here was bringing everything back. I couldn’t be around him. It hurt too much. With him working for Kade’s uncle, he reminded me of Kade and probably always would.

  He sighed and got up from the couch. I could see him staring at me with a pained expression from my peripheral vision, but I kept staring out at the lights. It simply hurt too much.

  “I’m leaving for LA in the morning. Please contact me if you need anything.” He tossed a business card on the table. “I don’t trust that Frank or his men will leave you alone.”

  I looked up at him and nodded, and then turned back to looking out the window.

  He walked past me toward the foyer. Then I heard him open the door. “I am sorry it ended the way it did. You deserve better.”

  The door closed and the tears fell from my eyes.

  Eight months later …

  Melissa, no Miranda … whatever the fuck her name was, left around four hours ago. I thought for sure I’d be able to sleep after my night of drinking and a couple of rounds of rough sex, but it didn’t work. It hadn’t worked in eight fucking months. I wasn’t sure why I thought it would work this time. I just lay there hoping sleep would come. After two hours of tossing and turning, I finally succumbed to my nightly ritual, looking at pictures of Scarlett that I had on my phone. The pictures that I took of her when she was sleeping. Her golden brown hair fanned out on my pillow, pink beautiful lips parted slightly, and a white sheet barely covering her petite frame.

  I still remembered when I first saw her picture on Entertainment Atlanta’s website. I, of course, picked her to be my agent because she was beautiful. Who wouldn’t want her to be their agent? But seeing her that very same night at The Sinners’ Club, I was entranced. There was just something about her; her smile, the way she laughed, walked, danced. I wanted to be near her. I had plenty of women pawing for my attention, but I was getting tired of the same ole shit. I wanted something real. She was my real.

  She was my real.

  She was probably off being happy with someone new, so I was only torturing myself looking at these fucking pictures. I should’ve deleted them, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. They reminded me of what I needed to do. Not that I needed much reminding. I had to get out of this new hell. It had been eight months and I was still nowhe
re near figuring out a way to tell Frank to go fuck himself.

  Turning on my side to get comfortable, I closed my eyes and started thinking about that night. The night I met with Frank in Atlanta and made the decision to cut Scarlett out of my life.

  Arriving at the Imperial Hotel, I parked my BMW rental in the parking garage and headed toward the elevator to get to the main lobby.

  The previous night was the best and worst night of my life. I had finally come up with the nerve to tell Scarlett I loved her only to have everything blow up in my face with Frank’s arrival. If I knew I wouldn’t have been taken down on the spot, I would have punched him in the face along with Paul for putting his hands on Scarlett. I had no idea they cornered her at any time. When she brought it up, I just didn’t know what to say. I wanted to kill him.

  Entering the lobby that was bustling with new arrivals and people checking out, I headed toward the elevator. I looked around to see if anyone was taking pictures of me. It had not happened that often since I arrived in Atlanta, but I never knew how far the paparazzi would go to get a picture. The last thing I wanted them to do was get any pictures of me with Frank. My reputation and the band’s would be fucked.

  Not seeing anyone suspicious, I walked into the elevator that was occupied by one other person and the elevator operator.

  “Floor thirty, please,” I told the operator.

  I pulled the brim of my hat lower on my face. I could see the chick in the corner eyeing me. She probably recognized who I was. Thankfully, she had the decency not to say anything to me. I was really not in the mood for a fan-girl.

  The elevator stopped and the chick made her exit. I didn’t pay any attention to her as she made her way out, keeping my gaze to the floor. The elevator door closed again and we were headed to my destination. I was not looking forward to this meeting or what I planned to do afterward.

  Arriving on the thirtieth floor, I exited the elevator and took a left toward room 3010, one of the floor’s suites.

  I stopped in front of the door and knocked. I was nervous as hell to find out what his plans were for me, but I wanted to get this night over with.

  The door flew open. Paul stood there with a devious grin on his face. I didn’t know what came over me, but with all the anger built up after the past twenty-four hours, my fist flew up and connected with his face.

  Taking a deep breath, I shook out my hand and closed the door as I entered the suite. Taking a look around, I noticed it looked more like a penthouse; having a living room, kitchen, and formal dining.

  “What the fuck was that for?” Paul asked. His six-foot-two frame was hunkered over, clasping his jaw.

  I wanted to tell him it was for putting his hands on Scarlett, but I didn’t want to bring her name up. There was no point in drawing more attention to her, so I ignored his question as we glared at each other.

  “Now, now, Nick. There is no reason to be violent.” Frank walked into the room wearing black slacks and a long sleeved button-up shirt with the top three buttons undone. He was an older man with white hair and an aged face, with more frown lines than I remembered, but that was to be expected with his line of work. He looked a lot different than the last time I saw him seventeen years ago. I tried not to think about those times though. It brought up too many memories of my parents’ death, just seeing him again made me see red. I would bury him, but first, I had to figure out how.

  “If we are going to do this, don’t call me Nick. My name is Kade.”

  “You’re doing this anyway, so I’ll call you as I please. Your name is Nick and that’s what I’ll call you. Now come, have a seat; we have much to discuss.”

  He gestured toward the couch opposite from the one he was sitting on. It was then I noticed everyone else in the room.

  They were the other two guys that were at my condo last night. I flexed my hands at my sides thinking about how scared they made Scarlett. I knew deep down, I was doing the right thing.

  I walked over to the couch and took a seat, staring Frank down. He had a slight smirk on his unshaven face and I had to calm the anger building up inside me. I needed to be in this for real, act the part. If I was ever going to take him down, I had to make him trust me.

  “Are your henchmen going to stay for our meeting?” I asked sarcastically, shooting a glance over at Paul, who still stood by the door.

  “No, they aren’t, but I’d like to introduce you first. You already know Paul. I’m sure you’ll be close friends once again.”

  “Fuck that,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “Then there is Sean,” he pointed behind him, “he’s my bodyguard, so you’ll see him with me at all times, unless, I dismiss him myself.”

  I looked over at Sean standing against the far wall in the living room. He was the one that wielded the gun on me the night before. He definitely looked like a bodyguard. His brown hair was in a military-style cut and the muscles on his arms looked like they would explode if I took a needle to them.

  I nodded my head at him in acknowledgement and he nodded back.

  “Over there is Kevin. He’s the new kid. I stumbled upon him back in LA helping some of my men on a deal gone bad. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time, but definitely came in handy. So, he found himself a job.”

  I looked behind me toward the sliding glass door that led to the balcony where Kevin stood. He was tall with blond hair. Medium build. He was the guy that was with Paul at the show I put on at The Sinners’ Club.

  I gave him a small nod as well, but he just looked at me blankly.

  “Paul, Kevin, go on to your suites. I’ll call for you when our little chat is over. Sean, take your post outside the door.”

  The henchmen did as they were told, and Frank and I glared at each other until we heard the door close.

  “Now, on to business,” he said as he leaned over to the table and grabbed the crystal decanter that held what I assumed was brandy. He grabbed a glass that was sitting next to the decanter and poured the amber liquid. He brought it up to his lips and took a small drink. “I’m not one to dwell on the past, Nick, so I find it best that we start out fresh. In this line of business, being a dweller will get you killed. So if there is something that you need to say, get it out now and never bring it up again.”

  He looked at me over the rim of his glass as he took another sip. I knew he was challenging me. I wanted so badly to rip him a new asshole, but I couldn’t do it. There was only one way to go from there, and that was down. I needed to be his best asset in order to get what I wanted. So I said nothing.

  “Alright then, there are rules that you have to follow, rules that will get you killed if you don’t. But first, this business is run by me and me alone. You also need to always remember that in this business, things aren’t always what they seem. Always be on the lookout for things that don’t add up. Do you understand?” I didn’t really, but I nodded my head anyway. “You are going to be my apprentice. However, since you don’t know anything about what it is we do, Paul is going to show you the ropes …”

  I frowned at him as I cut him off. “Wait a minute, I still have responsibilities. I’m a singer. I have bosses of my own. The music label is expecting us to make a new record. I can’t just put my life on hold to learn the ropes of your business.”

  I sat up on the couch and rested my elbows on my knees. If he thought I was going to give up everything he was fucking crazy!

  “I know this, Nick. If you’d let me finish …,” he said, glaring at me. “Paul is going to show you the ropes, but you need to get your affairs in order. You have a record to make, that’s fine. Get it made, but you will be reporting to me every day. We will be meeting at least four times a week. Make your record, but touring is not an option for you right now. You’ll need to figure out a way to break it to your band. Make up an excuse to take a hiatus from the business. Maybe use your drug problem. We all know you have one,” he smirked.

  I left my face blank. I showed no emotion. He
was trying to get a rise out of me, but I wasn’t going to let him.

  “If this is going to work, then I have a few demands of my own. ‘Rules’ as you would call them.”

  He smiled at me with amusement. “Please, do tell.”

  “I can’t be seen in public with you. No one can know of our association. It will ruin my reputation and the band’s. I know every avenue of business you deal with. I will not be associated with trafficking of any kind. Whether it be drugs, guns, humans, whatever, I won’t be a part of it. Getting clientele is all I want to be involved in. If you want to show me how you run your business, that’s fine, but we’ll need to compromise. If your ultimate goal is to have me take over everything, then we’ll deal with it then, but for now, this is what I want and what I’m willing to do.”

  I sat back, draping my arms on the back of the couch and waited for his reply.

  He watched me thoughtfully, rubbing his finger under his chin, as he mulled over everything I had said. I had a feeling that people didn’t talk to him this way and I was taking a big risk making requests of my own, but I didn’t want to get too involved. I only wanted to know enough to put his ass down.

  Leaning down, he refilled his glass, and then sat back on the couch, putting his left ankle on his right knee. “I think that sounds fair, Nick. But just remember who runs the show. You are my apprentice, but don’t forget your manners. Talking to me like this out in front of others will not end well. You are dismissed now. Paul has a phone for you. Keep it on you at all times. I’ll be contacting you soon.”

  After I got back to LA, I had to meet with the band and make up some kind of story about how I was burnt out and that it was causing my drug usage. It was all a bunch of bullshit, but they all bought it, except for Max. I told them that I needed to take a break for an undetermined amount of time, but I still wanted to make our new album. We’d just have to put the tour off for a while. The record label and my manager were not too happy to hear this news either, but they couldn’t force me to do anything about it if I was still producing music for them to sell.

 

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