The King's Pawn: The Complete King Crime Family Duet
Page 5
Now I wish I had slept with someone before. It would have been better than giving that part of me to someone who doesn’t deserve it. I should have given it to someone who treasured it and who actually loved me. Not a monster who forces me to stay with him and locks me in his room.
After breakfast, he left me here in his bedroom, telling me he had some things to do. I’ve been sitting cross-legged in the center of the large bed, not sure what to do besides looking out of the window and enjoying the view.
Lorenzo told me I could read or watch TV, but my mind is too scrambled to concentrate on either. There are too many thoughts and feelings floating around my head untamed and uncensored.
Very briefly, I toy with the idea of escape, but that thought vanishes as quickly as it appears. He was very clear about what would happen if I ran. I’m not risking my father’s life, no matter what Lorenzo will do to me.
I do, however, get curious about the clothes he bought me. Getting up from the bed, I walk into the closet and start going through all the garments hanging on my side. This morning, I quickly grabbed the first thing I saw, wanting to spend the least amount of time possible naked.
Now that I have time on my hands, I can actually take it in. I have to admit, it’s extremely nice stuff—expensive brands and soft materials. I’ve never had anything so luxurious to wear, and I hate how much I like it.
I’ve never considered myself to be high maintenance or boastful when it comes to clothes and showing off my body. I don’t care for designer shoes and purses. Even in school, I never cared if I wore name brand stuff.
But having it now, seeing how great it looks on me and how wonderful it feels on my skin is kind of nice. It’s also a great distraction from all the problems I’m facing.
I decide that I’ll distract myself even more by trying on some of the underwear and dresses.
The lacy material of the bra fits around my breasts like it was literally made for me. Running my fingers over the light pink fabric, I try not to think about how he could have possibly known my bra size. The matching panties are just as beautiful and fit just as well.
After inspecting myself in the floor-length mirror for a few minutes, I continue with the dresses. I get through about six when I get hung up on a white summer dress. Like everything else I’ve tried on, it fits like a glove. The flowy material hugs my curves in all the right places.
Slipping on a patching pair of wedged sandals, I walk up and down the closet to test out if I can walk in them since I’m not used to wearing anything with a high heel. I’m not sure if all shoes feel like it, but this pair feels like I’m walking on a cloud. I even twirl a few times, feeling childish but not caring at the moment.
“You look beautiful,” Lorenzo’s voice fills the space, and a loud shriek coming from my lips follows.
Gripping my chest like my heart is about to beat out of it, I stare at him, leaning casually against the door frame.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I say, still trying to catch my breath.
Lorenzo shrugs, a grin tucking on the corner of his lips as his gaze wanders up and down my body like I’m a piece of art.
“Most people would say I’m sorry when they scare someone half to death.”
“I’m not most people, and I rarely apologize for anything because I very rarely feel apologetic. I hardly feel bad killing someone. Why would I feel any remorse for giving you a little scare?”
“So you don’t scare people half to death… you scare them to death?” I don’t know why I said that out loud. I really need to keep my mouth shut and my thoughts inside my head.
“Yes, that and more,” Lorenzo says nonchalantly as if he was making casual small talk.
Wow. He might be a true psychopath.
“Since you are already dressed up so nicely, let me show you around the house.” He holds his hand out to me.
I stare at his palm for a moment before I reach out and put my hand into his. He gives me a satisfied nod and leads me out of the bedroom.
Instead of heading toward the staircase, he pulls me down the hall and shows me the guest room, the library, a sitting room, and a music room that holds a grand piano.
“Do you play?” I ask curiously.
“Not really. It came with the house. Do you play?”
“My mom taught me how to play, but I haven’t played in a very long time.” The memory of my mom and me sitting closely together and playing a few tunes hits me, and sadness fills my veins. “We had to sell our old piano at some point. I can’t remember why. I probably forgot how to play anything, to be honest.”
“If you do want to play, that will be one of the rooms you can go to even without me.”
“What about the library?”
“No. I’ll take you there if you want me to, but do not go there on your own.”
“Why?” I question as we walk down the stairs.
“Because I said so.”
I almost roll my eyes at him. “Fine. Got it. No library. Where else can I go?”
“If you are hungry, you can always go to the kitchen. The cook or a maid will be there most of the time to prepare something for you. If not, the fridge is always stocked.”
“Got it. Music room and kitchen, green zone,” I say more to myself. “Where do you go during the day?”
“You have a lot of questions,” he points out.
“So? I like to know things. I’m curious by nature, I guess.” I shrug.
“I will never be far. Most of my work can be done from inside this compound. I rarely have to go out and take care of things myself anymore. I send Mack or Eli, and if I do have to go somewhere, one of them will be here.” I remember Eli very well from yesterday. He was the one who roughly grabbed me from the car and got a hard on while tying me up.
“So, you have other people kill for you?” God, Amara! Shut up already! “Don’t answer that. Forget I said that, please.” I can’t believe it took less than forty-eight hours for me to bring up killing people so casually in a conversation.
“Let’s take a walk through the garden,” he offers, leading me out the back door and down the terrace. It’s hard to believe that a cruel man like him lives in a place so beautiful and serene. A dark gothic style villa would probably fit him better. Then again, this is probably part of the disguise. The devil hiding in plain sight. The perfect predator.
Taking in the colorful flowers and gorgeous fountain in the center reminds me of some kind of park people pay to see. Butterflies surround a rose bush, and I wish I had a camera to take a picture. I’m about to reach for my phone to use it but remember quickly that I don’t have it anymore.
“Is there any possibility I could get my phone back? Or at least call my dad? I just want to tell him I’m okay and not to worry,” I ask as we walk further away from the house and deeper into the garden.
“No.” He shakes his head, not even considering my request.
“Why? He is going to be sick with worry. I just want to–”
“That’s the point, Amara, I want your father to be sick with worry. I want him to suffer for what he did to you and me. He deserves to be miserable, or have you forgotten that he didn’t warn you?”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I say through clenched teeth. “That’s another reason I want to talk to him.”
“Because you don’t believe me?”
“It’s hard to believe my dad would do this. He is a good father, always has been. I just can’t wrap my head around all of this,” I admit.
“You’ll come to terms soon enough,” he fires back. There is a tone to his voice that tells me to leave the subject alone for now. I’ll stop asking him about my father for today, but I will not give up on that so easily.
“What about school? Will you really not let me go back to classes?”
“There is no reason for you to continue your schooling. Plus, I want you at my complete disposal. I want to know where you are and what you are doing at all times.”
Of course,
he does...
“Enzo,” someone calls from behind us. We both turn at the same time and find Mack approaching us. “There are some urgent matters you need to tend to.”
Enzo turns to me. “Go upstairs to the bedroom and stay inside. Do not go anywhere else, do not come out again until I tell you to.”
“Got it.” I nod and turn away from him.
It’s not like I have a choice to do anything else anyway.
6
Enzo
“Mack, grab the gun,” I order gruffly as we circle the tied-up man who is now lying on my floor. Blood is dripping from his mouth, and I can see the far-off look in his eyes—the one that says he knows he is going to die.
Mack hands me the gun, and I hold it firmly in my hand. A sliver of doubt pools into my mind. I have been doing this since before I was even eighteen. Not once have I ever had a doubt, yet now at twenty-five, I suddenly want to feel sorry for doing this shit.
Turning my gaze to Mack again, I look at him. He is tall just like me and built like a house. Our families have been friends forever, and he is one of only a few I trust with my life.
“What’s going on? Want to torture the guy more before ending him?” Eli asks, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He is one sick son of a bitch, but he always gets the job done.
“Nah, he can die now.”
Mack wipes the sweat from his brow as he gives me a bewildered look. I can’t blame him one bit, I’m as confused as he is… Why am I still standing here with a gun in my hand? Why isn’t this guy being taken away to be buried already?
“You want me to do it?” Mack questions. His voice is hushed, as to not let the little snitch hear. The man who lies before me is someone who took our stash of drugs, sold them, and then took the money and ran. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and it most certainly won’t be the last.
“No.” I wave him off. I don’t need anyone to do anything for me. I have climbed my way to the top alone, and I can handle this alone too.
Squatting down, I grab the man by the chin, forcing him to look at me. “Tony, why did you have to go and pull a stupid stunt like this?” There is nothing sincere about my questioning. It is mocking, taunting even. See, I like it when these people try to fight back because it makes me feel that much more powerful.
He doesn’t say anything to me; it seems like he is looking straight through me rather than at me, which in turn just pisses me off more.
“Any last wishes?” I ask, smirking, the gun cocked and ready. I generally never take this long to put a bullet in someone’s head, but something is off about me tonight. I can feel it.
Amara.
My mind whispers her name faintly. I grip the gun tighter in my hand. The man says nothing to me, so I take that as his answer. Putting the gun to his head, I pull the trigger. The ringing that is generally associated with shooting a gun no longer affects me. I can’t tell you how many people I have killed with this gun alone. After a while, your body just gets used to it.
I stand up, wiping the splattered blood from my dress shirt. I turn around, taking notice of Eli and Mack’s eyes on me, both look a bit disappointed.
“What?” They should be pulling the body out of the house by now, not standing there looking at me like a pair of baffled fuckers.
Mack points up to the top of the stairs where Amara is standing. Even from this distance, I can see the shock in her eyes.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
Did she honestly not take my warnings seriously?
Handing Eli my gun, I dart up the steps to my room. Anger escalating with every step I take. Obviously, I need to teach her a lesson. She needs to learn that my word always matters and must always be obeyed.
The second my foot touches the top step, I hear the door to my room click closed.
I forcefully push through the door, making it slam into the wall, but I don’t even care. I don’t care about scaring her or breaking shit. All I care about is her learning to listen and obey what I say.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay in here?” I question her, already knowing the answer. She is sitting on the far side of the bed, her face hiding behind a mess of brown hair.
My voice is heard only by myself, though, because she doesn’t look up. This only throws more gasoline onto the fire. Maybe I need to remind her who is in charge…
I walk over to my desk to grab my favorite knife out from under the drawer. Wrapping my fingers around the wooden handle, I cross the room and grip her arm, pushing her down onto the bed. Her eyes grow even wider with fear as she takes notice of the knife.
“I didn’t mean…”
“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it.” I press the blade against her slender throat, making her fully aware of what it is that I can do, will do, to her.
“I don’t care about your excuses. When I tell you to stay put, I mean it. I don’t say it for shits and giggles, Amara. This world isn’t the world you’re used to.” Every word that slips from my mouth is laced with some sort of self-induced anger.
Rationally, I know I have no real reason to be this mad at her, but it pisses me off that she didn’t listen. I press the side of the blade to her skin, but not the edge. I want to scare her and not actually cut her.
“I’m sorry.” Tears prick at the corners of her eyes and slide down the sides of her face. I feel my heart beat heavy in my chest as I watch more tears slip from her eyes.
I pull the knife from her throat, shove it into my back pocket, and stand to my full height. She is still looking at me like I just killed a bucket full of kittens.
Sitting up, she asks, “Why did you kill him?” It’s so quiet, I’m not sure she meant to ask it. She looks down at the floor, her brown hair flowing around her head like she just brushed it.
She’d changed out of her dress and was now wearing a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a white spaghetti strap tank top. She looks so young and innocent. I almost want to wrap her up and send her as far away from me as I can get her. But I won’t because I’m too selfish.
“He deserved to die.” It is that simple. I untuck my dress shirt from my slacks, pulling at the buttons to take it off.
“People don’t just deserve to die.”
“They do when they owe me money, even more so when they steal from me. Not that any of this concerns you.” I sound like an asshole. Even though I have no reason to justify my actions, I feel like I have to. I feel like I need her to understand why I did what I did.
“Did you ever think he needed the money? Maybe he was poor and had a family?”
“Generally, anyone who comes to me needs the money. It doesn’t matter what it’s for, Amara. If you make a deal with the devil for your soul and lose, he will take it. Well, in this case, I’m the devil. They made the deal, I was just following through with the soul taking part.”
Her nose tips up, and her eyes grow with a fire that makes my dick ache.
“You’re a monster. A sick, horrific monster that gets off on using and abusing people.” The distaste in her voice only makes me want her more. A smile pulls at my lips as I pull my shirt off completely. Her eyes go straight to my bare chest and stay there for a moment. Even if she thinks I’m a monster, she is still attracted to me.
“Ahhh, continue telling me how much of a monster I am. Please,” I mockingly plead, tilting my head at her. She narrows her eyes, and her tongue dips out of her mouth and onto her bottom lip to moisten it. She looks like a snake ready to strike.
Her eyes leave mine as she adjusts herself in the bed, her body rolling over as she pulls the covers up and over her head. I must have misread her. I thought for sure she was going to come at me with something snarky.
I head into the bathroom to wash my hands and dispose of my blood-covered clothing before making my way back out to her. It’s strange seeing a woman in my bed, but at the same time, it fits. Like she belonged here all along.
“Are we done playing games already?” I taunt her, walking over to the b
ed and sliding into my spot. She scoots closer to her side as if getting away from me is her number one priority. That’s too bad because getting closer to her is mine.
Reaching out, I put my hand under the blanket and latch onto her arm. A squeal escapes her mouth as I pull her toward me. Of course, she has to fight me.
“Let go of me,” she grits out as she tries to shake me off. Does she think she can win? Does she think I won’t hurt her? I will…
Fuck, I won’t…
“Nope.” I pull harder until she is on my side of the bed, and I’m leaning over her. Our chests are pushed against one another’s, and her breaths are coming at a rate that is way higher than normal.
“Stop,” she breathes out in frustration.
“Why?” I ask, cocking my head, enjoying our current interaction very much. I’m not touching her, at least not like I want to be.
“We don’t know each other. You said we’d take it slow.”
“I also said to obey me, or I won’t be so nice anymore.”
“I don’t think there is a single person in the world who would use the word nice to describe you.” Her voice no longer that of the meek girl she had just been, I smile to myself at the strength she is showing. It will be a pleasure to break her. “And you can’t hold it against me that I don’t want to sleep with a man I only met yesterday under the worst circumstances ever.”
I laugh a full, belly shaking laugh. “You do realize that you… well, mostly your body, will be paying your father’s debt, don’t you? Every moan, groan, orgasm, and every spread of those legs will be payment. Don’t act like you didn’t know what you signed up for.” Her eyes dilate as her breaths become pants. For a long moment, she says nothing, and I try to figure out how much of her reaction is fear and how much is desire.
Suddenly, she finds her voice. “I didn’t have any other option. I would rather be taken than lose my only parent.”
Her statement tugs at my heart, pulling me out of the haze that is consuming me. I can tell myself over and over again that I don’t have a heart, but every word that comes from her mouth reminds me that I do.