The King's Pawn: The Complete King Crime Family Duet

by J. L. Beck

  “Roll over and go to sleep,” I grudgingly command, standing from the bed. She looks at me in confusion, wrinkles marring her beautiful face. She is beautiful, unlike anything I’m used to. Her face is soft, her cheeks full, and she radiates youthfulness. Her nose is small, and her teeth are straight and white. She is simple, but at the same time, not so simple, you wouldn’t notice her.

  “Did I finally hit a sore spot?” she taunts, sitting up from her lying position. Her voice is pitched, and her face is etched in anger. I want to be proud that she has a backbone, but I also want to break it, snapping it into itty-bitty pieces.

  “No. You merely reminded me that I can’t care for the wounded, sick little puppies like yourself.” It is a knee-jerk response to fire back a shitty remark.

  “I’m not a wounded, sick puppy. I’m a girl who lost her mom to cancer and is doing her father a favor because she doesn’t want him to die.” Her voice echoes off the ceiling and rings in my ears. My veins fill with acid as I stalk over to her. She is small and innocent, but she is prey lying in my bed.

  “Did you just yell at me?” I ask coolly. Now she really did hit a nerve, and the only way I know how to deal with things that get on my nerves is to kill them. Except I can’t kill her.

  Lowering her voice and keeping it even, she answers, “I told you exactly what I’ve wanted to since you tied me up in my home.” This time she is the one radiating coldness, and that angers me even more. This woman is infuriating. I hate and love it at the same time.

  No one talks to me like she does. Even through her fear, she can’t help but speak her mind, and there is something refreshing about that.

  Before I can get a word in, she continues, “You bring me to this house, and I have no idea what’s going on or who you are. You take my entire world away from me, leaving me at your mercy. I’m confused, scared, and trying to figure out how I should approach all of this, and you—”

  I cut her off, my lips sending whatever words that were going to escape back into her as I hold her captive within a searing kiss.

  A groan escapes her lips, and I smile against her mouth, knowing full well she enjoys my lips on hers. I coax her lips open, slowly invading her mouth with my own. She tastes delectable, and I feel like I won’t ever be able to get enough of her.

  Her small hands skim across my chest and onto my back. Her nails rake my skin, and I’m on the verge of losing the last shred holding me back from taking her right here and now.

  Pulling back, I take in the red splotches spreading across her cheeks as her big, brown, doe eyes look back at me. She looks a bit taken aback, but more importantly, she seems thoroughly satisfied.

  “Not so much of a monster now, am I?” I joke, my finger swiping across her plump bottom lip.

  “You’re still a monster,” she retorts, pulling away from me as if she is embarrassed to have kissed me, and enjoyed it.

  “Remember that, sweetheart, when I bury my face between those creamy thighs of yours.” I smirk as I get up from the bed and walk away.

  Now I have to take a shower so I can beat myself off again. Hopefully, this won’t become my nightly ritual.

  7

  Enzo

  When I awake the next morning, my body is overly warm. I feel a small hand against my chest and a leg curved into my thigh. Even if she says she hates me, this alone tells me not all of her does. Part of her wants me. She craves something—comfort maybe.

  I turn to glare at the clock that sits on the nightstand. It is nearly six a.m. and although I don’t normally get up this early, I feel like I need to. I have some built up aggression, and I can’t get through the day if I don’t go workout.

  I slip quietly and slowly from the bed, so I don’t wake Amara.

  She is a spitfire. I haven’t given her enough credit. She isn’t okay with anything that I do, in fact, I’m sure she is afraid of it—as she should be. The mafia is no place for a woman. My mother hadn’t…

  The thought enters my mind, but I force it away. I refuse to think about my mother. Refuse. It is a shame because I loved her, but thinking about her opens up a gaping hole in my chest.

  “Boss, there is someone here to see you,” Mack announces over the intercom located in my bathroom. I slip into the closet and pick out a pair of low-rise blue jeans and a T-shirt. I plan on staying home today, so I pick something that is laid back.

  “I’ll be down in five,” I reply. I wipe on some deodorant and brush my teeth.

  I slip out of the bedroom, but not before I allow myself a second to look at Amara lying in my bed. I feel nothing for her, but at the same time, I do. We both lost our mothers, so I know what she is going through on that front, but everything else is foreign to me.

  “Who the fuck is here this early?” I yell to Mack, descending the stairs two at a time. My foot hits the bottom step when I turn to the front door to see Luccio–head of the Russo family–who owns the territory past the state line. We have no bad blood between us, but that doesn’t make it okay for him to come into my house without being invited.

  “Luccio,” I say calmly. He is wearing a button down shirt and dress slacks. He doesn’t look as if he is ready to spill blood, but then again, most criminals don’t fit the profile of one.

  “Lorenzo,” he says. His words are heavily laced with an Italian accent that reminds me of home.

  “Mack tells me you’re here for something. What can I help you with?” I question, raising an eyebrow up at him.

  He looks between Mack and me before dismissing his men. I’m not sure what is meant by that, but I don’t ask questions. A bat of my eyelash and Mack is gone, tending to other needs in the house.

  “I believe we have gotten into a case that you may want to know about.” What could he possibly be talking about? We walk the short distance into the sitting room, taking seats across from one another.

  “Continue, I’m listening.” And I am. Intently.

  “We believe one of your men and my men are working together and have been for some time without it being known on either side. We also believe that they have information regarding your mother’s death.”

  The way he says my mother’s death makes it seem real, and I hate seeing it like that. I clench my fists tightly together to stop myself from lashing out at him.

  “What do you mean? You either have the proof that such things are taking place, or you don’t.”

  He runs a hand through his graying hair. He reminds me so much of my father in the way he talks, stands, and in his gestures and mannerisms. If he weren’t from another mafia family, I would consider him to be my own blood.

  “See, that’s the problem, Lorenzo. We have nothing other than a lead that led us to a dead body. This is the mafia, and you know about as much as we do. Our people know how to kill, we train them, teach them to do so. They will kill every lead we get, and they’ll disappear right from under our noses.”

  He’s right. Fuck, he’s right. I run a hand through my hair, hoping it will ease some of the tension. There is too much going on right now between the girl upstairs, this, and the many debts that need to be settled…

  “Luccio,” I sigh.

  “Lorenzo, I know you’re a busy man. I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t believe this information. I’m trying to look out for the best of both of our kingdoms, fratello.” I know he means it out of the kindness of his heart. No one else has ever called me their brother.

  “I get that. I truthfully do, but you do understand what accusing our own kind does, don’t you?” I have to ask him. It will cause an uprising if anyone discovers what we will be doing. If it is discovered that we are wrong, we would be seen as weak, and weak in the mafia just gives people another reason to take you out.

  A smile tips at his lips. “Yes, young Lorenzo, I do. Have you forgotten your father and I worked together?”

  “No, I haven’t,” I say, returning his smile. The mafia is my family. My men are my family. That’s just how it works.

 
“Good. I will keep you updated, I just want you to watch your men and do so diligently. We will smell ’em out, and when we do, I have a bullet with their name on it.” I can see the determination in his eyes.

  I nod my head. “Yes. If I find anything out, I will give you a call.”

  He stands suddenly, bending down to place a kiss on my forehead. It is meant out of respect, and he says, “Thank you for seeing me.” And then he is out the door.

  “What was that about?” Mack comes into the sitting room after closing the door behind them. He looks a bit leery of me, and then it occurs to me—should I tell him?

  “Luccio thinks there may be a pig among us. Came by to let me know,” I lie. Well, half lie. I can’t possibly tell him everything, even if I trust him. In this line of business, no one can ever be fully trusted. Lines can never be drawn, or they will be crossed daily. It is best to keep things to yourself.

  “Well, if I hear anything among the men, I will let you know,” Mack assures me.

  “Thank you,” I reply, dismissing him. The fact that my mother’s killer is out there, beneath one of our two families, is far too much for me to stomach. I find myself crawling back upstairs to my bathroom to take another shower.

  It is funny how I can kill left and right and pull people from their families like nothing, but something so simple can bring me to my knees. It doesn’t matter how much I say I don’t care, or how much I try to bathe in the blood of those I kill, it never takes the pain away, never makes me forget.

  8

  Amara

  When I awake, I’m alone. The spot next to mine in the bed is cold, and I sigh in relief. This is the second morning I’m waking up in his bed, and I’m not even a little more used to it than yesterday.

  I can hear the water running in the bathroom, even though the door is closed. I know he is taking a shower, which is weird because he took one last night as well.

  He must really like his showers.

  Lorenzo, or Enzo, or whatever the hell he calls himself, told me he would kill me over and over again yesterday. Except I don’t believe him, not even after I watched him kill that man downstairs yesterday. Saw how easy it was for him to take a life.

  I’m surprised he hasn’t actually hurt me. Just as I’m surprised that he hasn’t forced me to have sex with him yet.

  The water turns off, and the door opens, pulling me from my thoughts. I watch him as he walks out of the bathroom with a scrap of a towel covering his lower half. It looks more like a washcloth covering the area, but who am I kidding? All I can think about is the way his mouth felt against mine last night and his abs. God, his abs are beautiful. Each little chiseled marking on his stomach…the dips and planes and that V… That fucking V is something women would kill over.

  “Let me give you something more to stare at…” His voice pulls me out of my trance only to throw me back into it as he drops the towel from his waist.

  I can’t help my expression. My eyes widen, and my mouth gapes open. A family of flies could have made my mouth their home, it is open so long. I snap it closed, hoping he doesn’t see. He is very well hung, which I already got a glimpse of yesterday, but today I feel a little more daring. My eyes stay glued to his penis as I imagine how in the world it will fit inside of me. His head has beads of water on it, and he is cleanly shaven.

  “Do you like?” he asks, smirking. His hand strokes the base, and I swear to God, one of my ovaries is about to explode. Pulling my eyes from his…cock, moving them to his eyes, turns me into a puddle of mush. I know he just killed a guy yesterday, and he’s all kinds of fucked up, and I’m supposed to be paying a debt for my father, but I am attracted to him. I can’t help it, and I am not sure if I want to.

  I don’t respond to his question, afraid that it will come out as a moan. “I need to go pee,” I blurt out instead, and I get out of bed. I head straight to the bathroom and close the door behind me as I listen to his laughter.

  “You can’t hide from it, piccolo.” His voice has an amusement to it that hadn’t been there yesterday. I sit on the toilet to take care of my business. I’m afraid he will come barging in, but also believe he might actually respect my privacy. One can’t tell with him.

  “My dick calls to you…” Now he is just being an ass. A smile pulls at my lips, though. As fucked up as all this is, and it is all kinds of fucked up, it’s nice to smile just a little bit, even if I have no clue what will happen to me today since I’m staying with someone who points a gun at people more than he talks.

  I wipe, flush, and wash my hands before actually taking a look at myself in the mirror. I feel fine though my cheeks are slightly flushed. My eyes are a warm brown, shining back at me. My hair needs some serious taming, but other than that, I don’t look as if I have been taken by a mafia king into an unknown evil land. The fact that he is still out there, probably naked, reminds me that I should talk to him about getting me some birth control. The man could get me pregnant with one look.

  Timidly, I come out of the bathroom, peeking around the corner, waiting for him to jump out at me. When I spot him sitting at his desk with a pair of jeans on, I sigh in relief.

  I tiptoe across the floor, hoping that he is engrossed in his mafia business too much to care what I am doing.

  “Come here, piccolo,” he says sternly. I stop dead in my tracks before turning around to face him. His hair is a mess, water droplets still clinging to it, but his face looks less dark, though he still seems to have an edge to him. His demeanor seems to warn if you get too close, he will cut you straight down the middle.

  “What does that even mean?” I ask, proceeding toward him with caution. He watches every step I take, his eyes going from my feet to the top of my head.

  “It doesn’t matter what it means.” I can tell he isn’t going to answer me, but I can’t let it go.

  “Then don’t call me that. My name is Amara,” I retort. I don’t want to be that weak girl that cowers in the corner because she is scared. I need to deal with the situation. That’s what my momma would have told me to do, grab the bull by its horns.

  “I will call you whatever the fuck I want. Now take your pajamas off and sit on the edge of the desk.” His finger points to the exact location my butt cheeks need to be. Instead of doing what he wants me to do, I glare at him, willing ice daggers to come out of my eyes and stab him.

  “No,” I say in the same cold tone he’d given me. A fire ignites in his eyes, and I wonder if that’s what gets him off—killing people and sex.

  “No?” he questions, eyebrows raised.

  “No. As in N.O.,” I repeat again, spelling it out for him in case he isn’t aware. I don’t want to have sex with him, not yet. Not that there is shit I can do about it. I will still try, though.

  Shaking his head, he gives me a disappointed look. A look that has me on high alert. I just disobeyed him again.

  “Okay,” he finally says, smiling. It is a dazzling one, you know, the kind that makes you go all weak in the knees? Yeah, that one. I’m so caught up that I don’t notice his body moving, or that he is within a breath’s distance from grabbing me. Picking me up, he pulls my pajama pants and panties down to my ankles and places my ass on the cold wood of his desk.

  “No!” I shriek out, holding my legs together. If he wants something from me, he will have to take it because I am not giving him anything.

  He smiles again, pulling my pants and panties from my ankles so my legs can be moved freely.

  “Yes,” he growls, his hands gripping my upper thighs.

  “No,” I counter back with the same amount of intensity. “I refuse to have sex with you yet.”

  His hands skim up my thighs and up my stomach until one is tilting my chin up to him, and the other is playing with a lock of my hair.

  “I won’t fuck you yet,” he says softly, his breath tickling my face, and it is then, when we are nose to nose, that I can really see gold flakes in his eyes. They almost make him look like a lion.

  “Wh
at will you do then?” I’m not naïve. I’m young, still very much a virgin, but I’m not stupid. I’ve made out with boys and let them feel me up, but it never went as far as I am now—naked from the waist down.

  “I need to release some tension, and instead of calling a high-class whore, I figured I have you here, so why not use you…” Use me. The words make acid build up in my stomach. He leans forward, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip.

  A spark of pain and pleasure shoots straight to my core. He is fire to my insides, igniting something inside of me that I have never felt before, even though it feels wrong, and being used is something I don’t want, his lips feel right. His hands on me feel right. Our hearts beating as one feels even more right.

  “Let me...” he begs, his kisses on my neck cause my chest to feel feverish. I can’t tell which way is up or down, and a burning feeling is settling into my core, all I can do is nod my head in response. He lays me back down, kissing a small path over my neck before lifting my spaghetti top and blazing a fire of kisses across my stomach.

  Once I realize he is going further south, all the fuzzy feelings leave me. I have never had that done before, and I’m not sure I want to try it now. I clam up, but my insides are still burning with need. I don’t know what to do because there is no way my legs are spreading. At this moment, I hate being so inexperienced.

  Enzo obviously notices my hesitation as he pulls away, his eyes seeking mine.

  “I’ve never even done this…” I trail off, completely embarrassed with myself and lack of sexual conquests.

  He smiles, and I’ll be damned if my insides don’t jump up and down. “It’s okay. I will be careful, I promise this won’t hurt. Just let me in…” His breath is deliciously hot against my skin. I know, even if he doesn’t say it, this is part of the agreement, I came with him for this.