A Kingpin Love Affair (The Complete Series 1-5) Boxed Set

by J. L. Beck

  Her father is a farmer who had lost his wife months prior. I know that much about Bree. We both shared death, but that’s about it. Except she is living, and I am not.

  I extend my hand out to her, she places her warm palm in mine and I lead us out to the waiting car. She looks beautiful, although I’m sure she already knows.

  “Where are we going?” she asks urgently. She seems uneasy.

  “Why does it matter where we are going?” I ask, pulling the flask I keep in my jacket out. I need a drink. She is sitting right fucking next to me, and every glance at her, has me imagining the way she rode me that morning. The way her hips moved, how her thighs gripped me, and her insides quivered as I…

  “It matters because I’m a human and I deserve to know where it is you’re taking me.” Her voice is defensive, and her nose scrunches up in anger. I smile, tipping back the flask as the bourbon warms my insides.

  I screw the cap back on, my attention turning to her. I know the answer to my question I asked earlier. She accepted her fate because she wanted to protect her father. I suppose I would do the same if I had any known family members alive.

  “Dinner. A nice little restaurant in the city. I made reservations and figured you might want to get out of the house for a bit.” All I have said is true. She has been stuck in the house for weeks, and if I were her, I would’ve been going stir crazy. I at least had a chance to see my cousin Alassandra, the deranged lover to my deceased uncles ex-wife. “Awfully sweet of you…” She is mocking me. I know it, as does she.

  “See, I’m not always a monster.” Giving me a dirty look she shifts her body away from mine so she can look out the window. It doesn’t matter to me that she knows where we are or how to leave the house. Where she resides isn’t meant to be a prison. If she runs, I will kill her, that much she knows. Except now I am starting to wonder if I really would pull the trigger.

  The ride goes smoothly as I pull my phone out, sending Luccio a text to let him know I will be stopping by later. I will find out why he sent a pig to me. I will also inform him that he is now dead, and he can get his men to collect his body from my property.

  “Are you going to kill me after all this?” Bree asks sheepishly as her eyes stay trained on the window. I hadn’t really thought about it, so I don’t actually have an answer to her question.

  “I don’t know. Probably not, unless you give me a reason to…” It is an open-ended question. This is her last chance to tell me if she will do something crazy—like run.

  She rolls her beautiful, brown eyes at me, and my dick grows hard. Her defiance makes me want her that much more. Get your head in the game… That’s not what I need to be focusing on. I need to be worried about whatever it is the fuck that is going on around me.

  “I just don’t want to die yet. I have so much to live for… My mom died rather young, and I want to fulfill everything before my time comes.” Her words cause a hole in my chest to form. She’s opening up to me about her mother and her death. God, does it make me feel more like a fucking asshole for treating her like shit, for putting her through all this. It has to be done though, softness is weakness…

  “You never talk about your parents but let me tell you, it hurts to lose someone you love like that. It feels like a piece of the person you were had died with them. I miss my mom every day…” She says all this innocently without knowing my story. I clench my teeth together as sweat forms on my hands. This is the part that gets me, the part where someone wants to know about my family, or what happened to them. No one asks because they already know, yet looking deeply into her eyes I can tell she deserves at least a smidge of the truth.

  “I know more than you think, Piccolo…” My words are soft as she looks at me with concern. This is the hard part of what I do. Not allowing myself to get close to anyone. It’s always easier if you’re closed minded and shut yourself out from the world. If I make the rules, I control the outcome. With Bree, I’m starting to wonder if I can control the outcome of all of this.

  “Why do you call me that?” Her voice is hushed, and there’s a sense of warmth that fills my bones. She’s too innocent for her own fucking good.

  I reach out placing my hand on her thigh. Her skin is warm against my hand, and I stare deep into her eyes, “You’re a little one. Or at least you remind me of one.” She won’t understand what I’m saying, but she’s fragile, tiny in her own way. She doesn’t even realize the power she contains. I was gone the moment my eyes landed on that picture of her in her parents run down farm house.

  The vehicle comes to a stop, and Jared, my driver, is out and opening the door before she can utter another word. I take the silence as a way to gather my thoughts. So much bad fucking shit is going to take place if I can’t figure out who has set me up.

  We slip from the SUV and into the Italian restaurant where I had made our reservation. I had been going to Sangerios since I was a child. I had known almost everyone that worked here since before I was born. The legacy started with my parents and was carried on by me. We have our own private entrance and table.

  “This place is beautiful…” I hear her mumble under her breath. We head to a table outside under the small light they had hanging above us like a canopy. The moon is shining brightly as the waitress comes to take our orders. I order two of the same thing, one for her, and one for me, and then give the waitress a soft smile.

  “She’s going to die from the need to have an orgasm…” Bree says rolling her eyes at me. She obviously doesn’t like my softness toward the waitress. That doesn’t matter to me though, she isn’t the one who will be riding my dick night after night.

  “That sucks then doesn’t it…?” I say sipping from my wine glass. I am not a wine kind of man. Bourbon is my choice of drink. It helps drown out the darkness that always wants to break free. I stare at Bree, my eyes lingering on her cleavage. How good will my dick look sliding between her perky tits?

  “If you know what it’s like to lose someone, why do you kill all these people?” Bree asks, gripping her wine glass so hard I wonder if it will break. I hadn’t told her anything about losing someone, although I had hinted.

  “It’s a job, Bree. It’s what I do. This is what my family did before me. It’s not as if I have a choice.” I say, irritated with her accusation. Does she think that she knows me because we fucked a couple times?

  “Everyone has a choice, Alzerro. If you know what it’s like to lose someone you love, you turning around and killing all these people makes you a hypocrite.” My patience snaps and a fire builds in my veins as I reach across the table to grip her by the throat. My hold is gentle, but I squeeze just to remind her that it is I who is in control. A soft gasp escapes her pink painted lips, and her eyes grow large with fear. My insides yearn to slide my dick deep into her while she cries and begs for forgiveness.

  “There is no good and evil in this world, love. It’s just me, and that’s something you’re going to need to learn really fast. My patience for your misunderstanding is running really thin.” My grip tightens ever so slightly as my tongue slides across the sensitive part of her neck.

  “Kill me then…” she grits out between breaths. Her eyes are filled with lust, and I have half the mind to push this shit off the table and throw her down, push her panties to the side and slam into her over and over again.

  Instead, I smile at her sinfully. Death will be the easy way out for her. I kill people who gave me a reason to kill them. “Give me a reason to and I will.” I release her as if her skin burns me and go back to my glass of wine.

  “There is a special place in hell for people like you,” she spits at me. Her words mean nothing to me. She hasn’t a clue the type of things that are said to me when someone has a gun pointed at them.

  “No, darling, you’re in that hell…” Of course, the fucking waitress decides right then is the perfect time to bring our food. She sits the spinach filled ravioli in front of me, and places Bree’s in front of her, but not before giving her a d
irty look and saying, “Here you go, bitch.” I may be a fucking asshole who kills people left and right, but no one treats Bree like shit but me.

  “Don’t look or talk to my guests like that again or it’ll be your job,” I say sternly to her. Her eyes grow wide with fear, tears threatening to fall from her thick eyelashes. Then she turns and scampers away.

  “You don’t have to stick up for me. I mean after all, you’re the one who was just holding me by the throat,” she growls, pushing the food away that had been placed in front of her. I feel myself growing feral with every word that slips from her mouth. She’s mouthy, she’s sinfully sweet, and she’s extremely dangerous to my sanity.

  I frown at her but continue on with my meal. I won’t waste my food simply because she doesn’t like hers. She’s not in control. I think about telling her more about my mother and father, about what happened to my mother, but I don’t. I know it might make her understand me more, but I feel like if she understands me more, she won’t fear me. Once the fear is gone, I have nothing to use against her.

  Time passes as I finish my meal, and she sits there with her food untouched. What a waste. The server comes and removes our plates without a word said. I leave the money on the table and stand, pulling Bree to her feet. She doesn’t resist, and it wouldn’t matter if she did. I would drag her out of here screaming if I had to.

  “Get in the car,” I order, opening the door to the SUV. She looks at me as if she’s actually going to attempt running. “If you’re even thinking about running, I’ll shoot you right in the back of the head. You won’t even be able to take a breath, you’ll be dead.” My hand reaches for my gun hidden behind my back. Will I shoot her? I’m not sure, and the fact that I hesitate even in the slightest bit scares me. She doesn’t try anything. Instead, she groans as she gets into the car. I’m walking over to my door when Jared, my driver, stops me.

  “Luccio’s?” He asks. His accent is very strong. He’s got slicked back black hair, his face is dark, and a bleak look crosses it.

  “Yeah. Go in the back way.” I say, walking to the side of the car, I open the door so I can slide into my seat.

  “I don’t want to fucking go anywhere with you!” she yells. She’s angry, and that’s fine. It doesn’t change things, though.

  “Thanks for telling me, but I don’t give a shit what you want. The moment you agreed to accept your father’s debt is the moment that anything you had to say stopped mattering. Now, all that matters is how tight that pussy can clench my cock…” Leaning into her body so our faces are almost touching, I finish saying, “Nothing that you want matters.”

  Her eyes narrow, the brown seeping right out of them. She looks as if she’s about ready to kill me, and I don’t blame her. Jared starts driving as I watch her carefully, wondering what her next move is going to be. Someone like her can’t handle this type of thing. I know when she breaks it’s going to be mad chaos.

  In less than twenty minutes, we have made it to Luccio’s property. His house is just as large as mine. I wait for him to let us through the gate. Anger surges through me, and I let the old me sit in the back of my mind. This is business. The car starts moving again, and we’re through the gate. Looking out the window, I watch as we pass the rose garden and the waterfall.

  The car comes to a stop in front of the house, and I grip the door handle firmly turning to Bree. Her eyes are full of mystery, and I can’t really tell what it is she’s thinking about. “Keep those beautiful lips shut, or…”

  “Or you’ll kill me? Tie a brick to my ankle and throw me in the ocean?” she mocks, eyebrow raised.

  Smiling I say, “No. I’ll fuck you to death.” I slip from the car and head to her side and open the door to allow her out. She takes my hand as I offer it to her. Her feet hit the ground, and she takes a brief look around.

  “Alzerro…” I hear my name being said as I direct Bree to where it is I want her to be.

  “Luccio,” I greet him in return. He smiles, his eyes eating Bree’s body. Something inside me breaks, I’ve never been the type to be jealous and after all, she is only a debt being paid. I won’t lie, I feel possessive of her. I feel like she’s mine.

  “What is the occasion?” he asks amused, not showing any worry. He should be. He should be scared shitless right now. I’m the monster that hides under your bed, waiting for the moment your breath evens out, and your eyes close to attack. Little does he know, he unleashed this monster all on his own.

  “Just business. I would like to have a word with you.” His eyes direct back to Bree’s, and I know he’s asking. What the fuck is she doing here? That’s not his problem, though.

  “What about her?”

  “What about her?” I retort.

  His eyes narrow at my attempt at humor, “Does she know?” I watch as Bree looks between us both, completely confused, and utterly lost as to what is about to take place.

  “Leave her be. Let’s go, Bree.” My hand lands on the small of her back as I lead her into Luccio’s home. The walls are littered with family photos that go back hundreds of generations. His house oozes I-have-money-and-you-know-it. Marble flooring with gold rivets makes up the ground we walk on. We pass through the foyer, and head to the first door on the left. It was his office just as I knew it would be. The door opens and closes behind us quietly as I guide Bree to a seat.

  “I haven’t gathered any new information, Zerro. I told you if I found out anything else, I would contact you.” I smile smugly at his comment. The knife on my ankle feels heavy as does the gun on my back. Heavy with the need to release bullets in this lying fucker’s ass.

  “That’s not why I’m here, actually. See, a very fat and short man came to my house. Unwanted, of course. You know how I get about people who trespass, right?” I watch the blood drain from his face, and I know he had something to do with it. Someone such as him can’t hide from me. He is out for something and I want to know what it is.

  “It wasn’t me,” he immediately claims. My attention slides from him to Bree, who is sitting in one of the chairs. She looks clueless to the whole situation.

  “Really? Because the moment before I slit his throat and watched him bleed out, he told me he was a member of your group…” I say looming over him. He is sitting behind his desk, attempting to look dumbfounded, which isn’t working though. I am not a dumb man, and I won’t be made to look like one either.

  I reach down and pull the knife out. He has about five minutes before I slit his throat open. “Talk….” I growl pointing the knife at him. I know he thinks I won’t do it, I don’t have the balls to kill someone I have known the better part of my life. The person who helped raise me when I lost all my family. It really is sad, that I have to be pointing a knife at him, at all. But lies were piling up and in the end, you had to protect yourself above all else.

  “He… He was sent to see about her…” His eyes move to Bree’s, and her mouth gapes open as if in shock. I am not much further behind her. I am a bit shaken up as to what that man would’ve wanted with Bree. No one knew that I had taken her except her father, but I don’t expect him to do much talking. After all the problems he caused, I assume he will stay on the back burner for a while. Maybe I’m wrong?

  “What did he want with her?” I ask, dangerously close to putting the blade of this knife in his forehead. There is a pregnant pause, and I grow angrier as time stands still. These people have no need to know why I have her, what I am doing with her, or who she is. Coming around the desk, I slip behind his chair, my hand gripping at his mop of hair, pulling him back and placing the knife blade at his neck. His eyes peer into mine.

  “I won’t ask again, what the fuck did he want with her?” I hear Bree’s gasp as if she doesn’t realize I could do such a thing as put a knife to a man’s throat, but I ignore it—her.

  “He…“ His voice stops, his heart rate increases, and my need to cut out his fucking larynx grows stronger.

  “He’s your guy, Luccio, which means you’re resp
onsible for him. Now answer me before I kill you. Believe me, I have given you far more time to answer than I have anyone else.”

  “He… There’s a rumor… I don’t know what it is… There is just this rumor…” His words circle over and over again as he repeats the same thing. A rumor? There is always some type of drama in the industry, I mean it is a form of crime, after all.

  “What kind of rumor?” I ask, pressing the blade into his neck. Blood seeps slowly from a thin line I cut across his throat.

  “I…” he stutters like he is going to shit or piss himself. I won’t be surprised if both things take place. Still holding the knife against his throat, I release his head and grab the gun from behind my back, aiming it at the side of his head. If he didn’t think I was serious before, he should now.

  “Now what kind of rumor is it we’re talking about?”

  “He doesn’t have to die Zerro. It’s probably nothing…” Bree’s voice is soft and slightly soothing to the raging inferno that is burning within me.

  I look up at her, my eyes growing dark. “He does have to die. When I ask a question, he answers, if he doesn’t, he dies. Loose ends get me nowhere. If someone doesn’t have the answers I need, they become useless.”

  “They think she’s with someone,” he blurts out as my eyes still linger on Bree.

  “What do you mean I’m with someone?” Bree shoots back. I hold her gaze, my eyes narrowing. Is she with someone? I never asked if she had a steady boyfriend. Jealousy burns inside me, and I would be lying if I said it doesn’t hurt like a fucking bitch.

  “I ask the fucking questions,” I growl at her. My attention turning back to Luccio, who is shaking in his boots. He is a pussy. He is supposed to be this big guy who knows all these people, who can kill anyone. It’s all a lie, obviously. His men aren’t even in the room with him. He is a fake.