Bad Medicine (Underworld Kings)

by KD Robichaux

  He laughs, and it’s sinister. Next thing I know, his front is to my back, and his lips are against my neck. He nips, releasing a yelp from me.

  “I don’t want another woman. The sooner you get that through your head, the sooner I will give you what you are dying for.”

  “And… and what’s that?” I stutter.

  “Mmm. My cock. Pounding into you. I’m going to fill that emptiness inside you. I want you in my bed, in my home, and in my fucking hands until we are taken from this earth.”

  I swallow, then moan. Never, ever have I felt this desired, and I would be a fool to say I don’t enjoy it.

  “DeLuca, please. You have to let me go. We can’t do this.” I finally let the less vocal side of me speak.

  He growls, reaching up and grasping my neck, adding enough pressure to get my attention to fixate on his words.

  “You’re mine now. I won’t let you go. Ever. And I don’t care if that means you fucking hate me for the rest of our lives, but you are mine. That will never change.” He releases me, and I gasp for air.

  He steps back, and I turn to face him, suddenly angry with him. How could he think I could love him or want to stay when he says he doesn’t care if it causes me hate in my heart?

  “You’re no different than the man I married, are you?”

  This has his eyes filling with rage, his neck growing red. But I don’t care.

  “I’m capable of loving someone. I crave it—to be loved and have love. To be someone’s everything. But all I seem to get are men who want to control me and make me hate them. I thought I saw something in you. I really did. But you’re right. I will always hate you. You can keep me here like a prisoner, but I will never love a man who forces me to leave everything that meant something to me.” I storm off again, completely derailed once more. I trusted him for a brief moment when he showed me grace with the wardrobe and offered me the garden, but I was a fool—a truly blinded fool. I’m nothing but a piece of property, a trophy to him.

  “Arabella, get back here now!” he yells after me, but I keep going, making it into the house through a haze of tears and… hurt.

  “Piccolina, don’t you dare slam that fucking door.” He’s almost caught up to me, just a few feet back when I enter the bedroom. I go to do just that—slam the door—and luckily, I shut it just before he can make it inside.

  I lock it and scream, “I hope my father finds you! I would rather be in the arms of my husband than you.” That stops the pounding, and it does something else. I feel instant regret. Pain.

  He must feel it too, because he falls silent. I let the tears fall and my breaths catch as I stare at the closed door, waiting for him to break it down. But it doesn’t come. Instead, the sound of his fleeting steps does. I fall to the ground then and cry nothing but painful sobs.

  What now?

  14

  DeLuca

  Her words enraged me, then fucking broke me. I don’t break for anyone or anything, but with her, I snap, crumble, and dissolve at her feet. How dare she say she would rather be back with Ferro, or any man for that matter?

  Doesn’t she know who I am?

  Doesn’t she know what those words do to me?

  But then I remember—no. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what’s going on or who the hell I am aside from the man who kidnapped her.

  I slam my office door and walk to my desk. When I step up to it, the rage boils over, and I swipe everything off my desk, glass breaking and papers flying before settling in a mess on the floor. Slamming my fist down, I curse. “Fuck!”

  I’m supposed to hold all the fucking cards here, yet she’s playing with a full hand. I’m losing. She’s making me unstable, mentally and emotionally. She’s right. I could have anyone, and anyone would be easy to tame and control but Arabella. No, she can’t be. And truth be told, I don’t want to control her outside of what she wants. I know she desires for me to control her in the bedroom and obsess over her outside of it, but when it comes to her heart—that, she wants to give of her own free will. So why don’t I just fucking give her that?

  I ponder this question for what seems like hours. The conclusion I come to isn’t a good one, but it’s the only one that’s right. The one man who can assist me in protecting her and help me gain her trust needs to be called. I realize the risk, but the reward—Arabella’s heart—is much fucking greater.

  Pulling my phone from my pocket, I order Maxwell in when he answers on the first ring.

  “Office. Now,” I bark, irritated that I have to do this.

  Not even a minute later, he’s standing in front of my desk, questioning me for the first time ever. “Sir, you know they could be tailing him and that you are at risk of being taken out as well. He won’t care that you kept her alive.”

  “Don’t question me. Give me his number.” With one last look of doubt, he finally concedes and does a few things on his phone. Then he turns the cell to me, and I see the digits needed. Typing them into a burner phone I pull from my desk, I wait for the ringing.

  “Who is this?” the man answers roughly, and I turn my chair.

  I look out over the courtyard and up the length of the tower where my principessa is locked away, angry and hating me more than she did when I put her in my car.

  “I know where your daughter is. Meet me in the alleyway next to her apartment at 4:00 p.m. sharp. No henchmen. If you have one when I get there, I will make sure you never see her again.”

  He curses through the phone, but I hang up.

  This will be the deadliest game I’ve played yet.

  * * *

  ....

  * * *

  My black Maserati pulls up to the curb next to the alleyway I stole Arabella from at exactly four on the dot. I see her father in an SUV across the street, and he eyes my car a moment or two before he steps out. He wears an all-black suit, down to his button-up shirt. I look around, taking in my surroundings to make sure he is alone and doesn’t have anyone ready to attack or follow us. I unlock the car, and he slips in, making sure I see his weapon attached to his belt. He’s not the only one packing.

  “Who the hell are you, and where is my daughter?” he seethes. I lock the door and speed away from the curb, checking the mirrors to make sure I’m not being followed.

  “I said, where is my—”

  I turn and stare him dead in the eye, my look silencing him.

  “DeLuca?”

  He recognizes me. Hell, he’s used my services many times before, so I would’ve been surprised if he didn’t know me the moment he saw me.

  “Marcello,” I say back, heading onto the highway toward my fortress.

  “What the hell do you know about my daughter?” he questions, looking over his shoulder to the back seat—hoping to see her there, I’m sure.

  “She’s safe. I’m taking you to her.”

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  I don’t answer yet, still watching the cars behind me and checking for patterns or followers.

  “DeLuca! How do you know where my daughter is?”

  “I was hired. By the man you forced her to fucking marry. He hired me to kill her,” I growl, wanting to make sure he feels that fucking burn.

  “What? How? Why? Goddamn it!” He slams a fist on the dashboard.

  “He told me she had information and planned to sabotage The Ruin and everyone involved. Myself included. I didn’t ask questions.”

  “You didn’t know she was my daughter?”

  “No, not until I did my own digging and learned her maiden name.”

  “So you kept her alive?” He seems a bit calmer, and I put a stop to his relief in an instant.

  “Not for you. For me.”

  He scoffs. “You want to hold her ransom from me? You must be stupid to think you could do that to me.”

  I give him an evil grin. “No, I did it because your daughter is mine now, and I want to make her mine for good. The only way I can do that is to ensure her happiness.”

>   “You’re out of your goddamn mind,” he barks.

  “Am I? Because I believe I'm here because you married her off to a monster. A man who wanted her dead because of another woman and to keep the peace.” He gulps, and that shuts him up enough for him to reassess.

  “What did he tell you?” he asks me a few moments later.

  “I told you.”

  “What did he ask you to do?”

  I grip the steering wheel. The question even upsetting me.

  “He wanted me to make it look like a suicide,” I mumble, trying not to get riled up again. Marcello is finally calm enough and I don't need to rile him up again. “When I told him the job was done but that there was no body, he slipped up and mentioned him being with someone else.”

  “That bastard. I'm going to kill him.” Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he takes out his phone.

  I stop him before he can make a call. “No, we need to come up with a plan to make sure we are steps ahead of him. He has people who will tell him you're coming, and then he’ll be gone.”

  “Does she know about this?”

  I wait and debate how to answer this. After a moment, I sigh in frustration. “No, she doesn’t. That’s why I’m bringing you to her. You seem to be the only man she can trust, so I want as many people in her corner as possible.”

  He nods without a word. Exiting the highway, I make my way toward my secluded property.

  “Can she trust you?” I finally ask, because last time she trusted her father, she married the devil himself.

  “Yes. How dare you question m—”

  “I will question anyone when it comes to Arabella’s safety. Don’t ever think you are above that law just because of your status in our world.” I give him another look, and this time, he actually looks afraid. Men like Marcello have no fear, but I will make sure he feels it when it comes to his daughter.

  “Did you hurt her before you found out who she was?”

  I think about that question. Physically, no, but with her last words to me, I definitely caused her emotional pain.

  “No,” I respond, because I know that’s what Marcello means. He clearly never gave a fuck about her emotions before.

  “Good. Get me to my baby girl. Please.” Right when he says this, I turn off onto the unpaved road that leads to the gate of my home. I see the light on in our tower, and instantly a vise grips my heart. God, I just want to get to the part where I come home to her in that room and she’s actually happy to see me.

  “I see why you charge so much,” he remarks on behalf of the castle-like home and the top-notch security.

  “When you’re in the business of death, you have to spend extra to keep yourself alive,” I tell him, pulling up to the house. We climb out at the same time, and Maxwell opens the front door, ushering us in.

  “Sir,” he greets me.

  “Bring her to my office,” I tell him, leading us toward it. I cleaned it up after I called her father, knowing this is where we would conduct the meeting.

  We don’t need to exchange any more words. Instead, I have him take a seat on the couch, and I take my place at my desk. One ankle resting atop my opposite knee and my chin resting on two of my fingers, I wait as patiently as I can. It takes a few minutes, but finally we hear her and Maxwell approach, and the door opens. He sees her before I do, and when she realizes he’s there, she runs in.

  “Daddy!” she cries out for him, meeting him halfway and falling into his arms. I don’t move, just observe, my jealousy somehow still spiked and the ache to make her mine ever present.

  “My princess, are you all right?”

  She steps back and sniffles as he moves her hair from her face. She looks him over before she searches the room for me. Our eyes meet, and I sit up straight, not saying a word. There is some glimmer in her eye that I can’t place.

  “How… how did you find me?” she questions.

  “DeLuca called me. He told me everything.”

  “And you didn’t kill him?” she asks.

  I’m shocked the question doesn’t come out with disappointment in her tone, but more like relief.

  “No, Arabella, I didn’t. But you need to sit, because we need to tell you something.” Her eyes come to me, filled with worry yet surprisingly asking for approval. I give her a nod but don’t move from my spot. It’s taking everything in me not to react, or to go to her, or to be the one telling her this. It has to be done this way. It must.

  “What’s going on, Daddy?”

  “DeLuca was hired to kill you.” He doesn’t even attempt to sugarcoat it. Her eyes go wide, and she looks to me, then to him and back again.

  “What? Why? By… by who?”

  My heart starts to squeeze, the hand she has around it beginning to tighten. This shit is going to hurt her.

  “Ferro.” His name is like poison to me. It seems to echo throughout the room, long and taunting.

  “No. You’re lying. Why would he do that? I mean, I know we’re not a happy couple, but I always obeyed,” she cries.

  That word. Obeyed. She’s feeling betrayed and hurt, and I have to sit here and not do a damn thing until she asks me to. If it were up to me, my hands would be covered in her betrayer’s blood.

  “Shh, don’t cry, my baby. You’re safe.”

  She stands and scoffs, pushing her father away when he stands and tries to hug her again.

  “I’m safe? It’s not about that, Father. It’s about you marrying me off to a man who hired someone to kill me. I did this for you.” She slowly moves backward toward my desk. This is my cue. I rise then, coming to stand in front of her when she reaches my desk.

  “Princess, I know this is my fault. I didn’t know things were that bad between you two.” Arabella stays standing behind me, and I eye her father’s every move. When he doesn’t stop coming closer, I intervene.

  “You can stop there and speak. Clearly, she doesn’t want you near her,” I tell him.

  “That is my daughter. I can do whatever I like, DeLuca. I suggest you watch yourself.”

  “Wrong. You neglected to see how mistreated and unhappy she was for long enough, and now there is a target on her head. I’ll make sure she isn’t put into harm’s way—including by you—ever again.”

  “I didn’t know! I would never let anyone hurt my little girl!” he hollers, the veins in his neck and forehead showing.

  This has her grasping onto me in fear. She needs me. Arabella needs to feel protected for once, and I'm the only man who can provide that to her now.

  “Whether that’s true or not is a moot point. Now, we need to figure out how to end him and make sure my piccolina is safe from here on out. So what do you plan to do, Daddy dearest?” I challenge him.

  His eyes widen. “Your piccolina? You are not going to have my daughter at the end of this, DeLuca. If you think you will, you have never been more wrong about anything in your life.”

  “Marcello, if you think I will ever trust you with her care again, then it’s you who has never been more wrong.”

  “Why don’t you let her decide for herself?” he spits.

  “Always. In my hands, Arabella will always get a say. Too bad she didn’t have that before me.” Those words hurt him. Because I’m not wrong. If she would have had a say from the beginning, she wouldn’t be in danger now. I step aside, moving to stand behind her. I press her back to my front and place a possessive, protective hand on her hip.

  “Princess, is this what you want? Do you want to stay here with him, or come home with me? You will be safe with me, my baby. I promise.”

  And just like that, I’m on the edge of my damn seat, because there’s a chance she’ll go with him. And even though I swore I would never let her leave, I may just have to let her go.

  15

  Arabella

  “Princess, is this what you want? Do you want to stay here with him, or come home with me? You will be safe with me, my baby. I promise,” my father declares, and the room just seems to keep spinnin
g, making me feel more out of sorts than ever.

  But truth be told, I’m angry with my father. DeLuca is right. I never had a say, and he never would have listened anyhow. No matter how much he loves me or I love him, I don’t have a voice in his world, and until he realizes that, I don’t feel safe with him.

  I draw strength from the powerful man behind me. The stranger I’ve barely gotten to know that has somehow become my protector. DeLuca is the safe place I’ve never had before.

  “I’m staying with him, Father. I won’t leave him.” I didn’t plan to say those words, but they just come out. It’s how I feel. Connected, protected, safe, and loyal to my captor. I want to kiss his feet, beg him to keep me from all the men in my life before him. I owe him my life.

  “Arabella. I…” My father pauses, looking to DeLuca, then to me before straightening and closing his suit jacket. “You’re right to stay here. I will make sure to handle Ferro, and when you’re safe, I’ll let you make a choice. I won’t silence you again, my baby.”

  My heart aches a bit for my father. Sure, his intentions were never for me to be married to a monster, but he never even gave me the chance to tell him or protest. He may love me, but he needs to learn that I’m my own person, and I don’t deserve to be treated like property any longer.

  When he turns to leave us, I stop him. “Daddy.” I peer at DeLuca over my shoulder and give him a reassuring look. When he releases his grip on my hip, I step forward to meet my father. Cupping his face, I tell him, “I do love you. Please know that.” A single tear rolls down my face as I kiss his cheek. His sad eyes meet mine, and I know this is killing him.

  “I love you, and I promise to make you safe. I will check in while Ferro is handled, and if at any point he harms you—” He eyes DeLuca. “—you tell me, and I will bring you home.”