The Beast In The Castle

by Daniella Wright

  Caged Passion was often that way.

  Sold

  ~Bonus Story~

  A Steamy & Forbidden Mafia Romance

  Life is rarely fair. Such an idea is for children, those who haven’t experienced enough of the real world to know what struggle is life. I could say it wasn’t fair that my father was in debt. I could say it wasn’t fair that I was the one that stepped up to deal with the consequences.

  What would it matter, really, when at the end of the day I still ended up in the arms and bed of Nero Adams, the man to whom I sold my body so that my father could have a chance to live? Fairness didn’t come into play in such situations like this. The only thing you could worry about was whether or not you’d survive knowing you ended up falling in love with the man who might get you killed.

  * * *

  Deal Making

  Elizabeth

  The journey there was a long and complicated one. It was a road riddled in poor choices, bad timing, and though none were through any fault of my own, I still found myself withstanding the worst of the consequences to those actions.

  It had started with my father’s gambling, and then escalated at my mother’s death. By the time I realized how bad things were, truly saw how far things had sunk… well. All my mother’s possessions had been pawned to pay off my father’s unbreakable debts, and even then, he had the Lorenzo’s lackeys knocking on his door, demanding his money. When he couldn’t give it, his car had been busted up. The second time?

  It was his knee cap.

  So, where was here? Where was this place that I’d come, the beginning of the end, the apex of a hellish mass of worrying and suffering my family had been made to endure? Of all places, a biker bar. The last place that I ever wanted to be, but it was the only place I could imagine I could get what I needed and save my father before a busted knee cap turned into a busted skull.

  Ray’s, the place was called, and it was seedy as all hell. Pulling in in my beat-up Dodge, I cringed at the thought of setting foot into that bar. It was a haven for the depraved, the desperate and the destitute. You could get anything you wanted in there – booze, drugs, women, men. The biker gang that ran it wasn’t too picky; if it could be bought, they sold it, if they wanted it they took it. They were the second most powerful crime organization in the city, next to the Lorenzo’s, and that was only because the Lorenzo blood ran so deep through the city that they had their hands in everything that the bikers of Ray’s hadn’t touched.

  I stepped out onto the gravel, heels sinking between the rocks. I felt my stomach sink, too, the anxiety grip me at my core. I breathed in the air and tasted lingering hints of tobacco smoke. It almost made me crave the drag of a menthol, though my choice to quit years ago left me without. Perhaps it’d have calmed my nerves, settled the jitters that worked their way from my stomach, into my throat.

  The place was crowded. Bodies were packed tight within, and the haze of smoke and flickering yellow lights didn’t help much. I ended up pressed against people, body sliding uncomfortably against strangers. The firm grip of a hand squeezed my rear; a whistle pierced through the sound of thumping rock music. These were all things I ignored, things I let slip to the back of my mind and away.

  I had a singular purpose. I made my way to the back of the bar, avoiding the calls of men who noticed me. A quick glance to my phone told me that I was just a few minutes early; my promptness only made me feel more jittery. I didn’t want to have to wait much longer. The men outside the back room didn’t make it much easier on me, either. They were huge, stood a head and a half taller than me, at least. They looked down at me, smirks on their faces. Their eyes roved, though I stood straight.

  “I’m Elizabeth Love,” I told them. “I’m here to see Mr. Adams?”

  “You can wait until he’s done,” the man on the right said. He continued to look at me, and I felt as though I should be standing before him naked. I shifted.

  “I’ll wait, then.” I didn’t want to cause any more trouble than need be. My stomach felt knotted enough as it was; I didn’t have it in me to cause a true commotion.

  “Pretty thing, ain’t she, Johnny?” The one on the right spoke up. When I glanced at him, his smirk was a toothy grin.

  “True thing, true thing. You doing anything tonight, sugar?”

  “I’m speaking with Mr. Adams, and then I’m leaving,” I said, firm.

  “Sure you don’t want to party? Sweet little thing like you. Look like you need a little breaking in –”

  The reprieve of the door opening saved me. A woman stepped out, blonde, busty, beautiful. She had a dazed look to her green eyes, though, and white dusted her nose. She walked past us, wiping at her mouth. I swallowed when I saw white liquid drip from the corner of her red-smeared lips. One of the men reached out and smacked her rear. She stumbled, looked back at him, though she said nothing before going on her way. I didn’t like the implications of her state; it made me swallow nervously again.

  “Have fun, cupcake,” the man on the left said to me.

  I was glad that he at least didn’t touch me, too.

  The doors closed behind me. I was grateful for the silence that followed. A great desk was before me, and behind that, stood a man. I barely took his features in before I looked away, my face heating. He was tucking himself back into pants that had been down at his hip. There wasn’t much guessing as to what the woman in here previously had been doing for him.

  “Elizabeth Love?” The voice that greeted me was cocky sounding, as if its owner was too sure of himself for his own good. I nodded. The man laughed, and my eyes cut to him.

  “Is something funny, Mr. Adams?”

  He plopped himself down into his cushy chair. One of his hands ran through his sandy blonde hair; his smirk was as ever-present as the men outside. When he didn’t answer me, I stepped forward, neatly seating myself in the chair across from him. I steeled myself for the conversation at hand, for the bargain I would initiate. Too bad I didn’t possess enough steel within myself to stop my hands from trembling, clenched as they were on my lap.

  “I understand that you help people,” I began, unwilling to let his amusement with me impede my purpose. “If they have something to offer in return.”

  “I do,” he said simply. He lounged back, relaxed. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one with a lighter from his desk. When he offered me one, as well, I shook my head. He gave a shrug and took a drag. There was a bit of silence before he spoke again. “So what is it you need? Money? Protection? Another sort of favor? We’re generous here. For a price.” He seemed quite pleased about that. For a price. I had to fight down a grimace, and nod.

  “I need money. My father is in debt –”

  “And you’re being a good daughter, helping him get out of it?” His amusement seemed to mount. My jaw set.

  “I’m trying.”

  “I see.” He tilted his head. “So. Money. How much are we talking?”

  “Eight hundred thousand dollars.” Mr. Adams let out a whistle.

  “That’s a pretty price. And what are you going to do in exchange for nearly a million dollars’ worth of debt?”

  Ah. Finally coming to the crux of the issue.

  My heart, having beat at a steady, hard rhythm, felt like it was going to thump straight out of my body. I had made the choice, thought about it for weeks before concluding that this was what I needed to do. This, certainly, was the only way to save my father. He had nothing. I had nothing. Nothing to pawn to a broker, least, or that could be reasonably sold.

  So, when I answered him, I answered with as much dignity as I could manage, and hoped the sureness with which I spoke belied the fact that I was the most afraid that I had ever been in my entire life.

  “My company,” I said. “My… body. Whatever you would have of me. Whatever what you want for whatever it’s worth, for as long as it takes for my father’s debts to be erased. I just need it to be regular, so he’s paying and they see he’s paying, an
d they leave him alone.”

  Mr. Adams regarded me for a while. I wondered if he truly needed to think about my offer – I had heard he’d take almost anything when it came to having women. And though I feared the results of him taking me up on the offer – the plea – I feared what would happen should he deny me even more. It was life and death, what rested on my shoulders. It was a heavy burden to bare and I could only hope that this man… this biker, mobster, thug of a man, would help me, even if only to see himself secure some sort of pleasure from it.

  “Come here.” He beckoned me, quirking a finger over to him. I was hesitant to stand, but with no other options, what was I do to but go to him? I did so, steps hesitant. I stood before him, and he circled his fingers around, indicating that he wanted me to turn for him.

  It was humiliating, but I did so. It felt like I was more a dog than a woman – an animal to be judged and appraised for its worth. When I turned back around to face him, Mr. Adams had a smirk on his face.

  “You’re in luck, Elizabeth. I like what I see. Now how about a taste?”

  That night was the first night that Nero Adams touched me.

  Unexpected Enjoyment

  Nero

  “Hey boss, you got a moment?”

  My eyes open, agitated. I had just laid my head down, finally getting a bit of time for rest. Not like oak wood was the most comfortable thing to lay your head on, but it was better than nothing and I was tired enough to ignore the fact that’d it’d likely leave my neck a little more than annoyed with me. That, however, was beside the point.

  Aiden stood in the doorframe of my office, leaning against it as if he owned the place. He was my best friend, my right-hand man. He was the one person I’d go to hell and back for, though interrupting my might may have earned him a one-way ticket there from me. He had a wicked grin on his rounded face, and I got the distinct impression he was going to tell me something that I didn’t want to hear; anything with a Cheshire grin like that was enough of an indication of that.

  “What do you want, Aiden? I just got to sleep.”

  “That Elizabeth woman called. Said it was urgent.”

  At that, I straightened up.

  It’d been about a week since that bombshell of a desperate woman came walking into my bar. Wasn’t the first woman, probably wouldn’t be the last – but she had something about her that interested me. Despite offering herself to me, she still had one thing most women didn’t have by the time they came here: her pride. I could see her try to swallow it down, but the time we spent together that night showed me she’d choke on it before she took it down entirely. Most in her position were dead and hollow already, that’s what made it easy to get them to do whatever you wanted.

  Elizabeth? She had fire.

  “What was so urgent?” I couldn’t imagine that she was backing out of our deal, at least not this early with how badly she wanted to help her dear old dad.

  “I need to work. Now.”

  My brow rose. Well. That wasn’t what I was expecting. I smirked a bit.

  “I didn’t realize that you were so eager?” I could hear her scoff on the other end. Ha. So she was irritated by me. Cute.

  “I told you that I needed the money; I work, I get money, right? Look, I just –”

  “Be over in an hour.”

  I hung up, not giving her time to reply to me. That was probably an asshole thing to do, but oh well. She was giving me her time in exchange for my money. I figured I could afford to behave as I pleased. Besides; she seemed the type to bite back, even in her desperation, and I was interested in seeing just how hard she’d end up biting back for me when she got here.

  Adrien left, after that. I decided that a nap just wasn’t going to happen. I was too awake now, too eager to see Elizabeth. I knew that it was cruel, to take advantage of people’s misfortunes. It wasn’t something to be proud of necessarily – but it was something that had to be done. My father had taught me that, taught me that sometimes the things that made us hate ourselves were the things that we needed to do to make the empire thrive. Thriving could mean a number of things: money, property, power. What I would have with Elizabeth would be just that: power. The power that had people coming to you when they were desperate, when they needed what you had the most. I’d lose money, perhaps, but what I would gain in return would be so much sweeter.

  Besides. There was more to Elizabeth than a woman desperate to save her father’s life. I intended to figure out what exactly that was.

  Elizabeth arrived, just shy of an hour and beautifully dressed. A deep green number that hugged her body. Just enough cleavage and thigh showing that it was sexy but not trashy – like she didn’t even have to try hard to be appealing. I could appreciate that. She came into my office, head high and eyes hard, like she was above her situation. She sat herself down after a small nod in greeting. I smiled, and got little response from her aside from a small scoff. That only made me smile more.

  “Aw, don’t be so mean.” I said playfully. “You’re the one that asked to come over. What’s the hurry for? Surely you’re not so eager to continue where we left off the other night?”

  Her face reddened, though her hard gaze didn’t waver.

  “I told you, I came to you to work, not to sit around and wait for work. I don’t know about you, but I don’t play around when there’s something that I need.”

  “Oh, and you need me, do you, Elizabeth?” The fury on her face was amusing.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. Are you done tormenting me? It’s enough that I had to come here to begin with, you could just take what you want and give me what I need and I can be done.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head.

  The first night she had come here, I’d taken a bit of a sampling of her. Didn’t have sex with her, no. Not the first time. But it was enough of a taste having her spread open on my desk, fingers between her legs making her squirm despite her reservations to know that I didn’t want to take it so… liberally with her, so to speak.

  I stood up, straightening up my suit.

  “I think our agreement was that I pay you for your company. Whatever it is that I want from you, right?” I waited for her to answer, and when she realized that I expected one, she grimaced.

  “Right,” she said, grudgingly.

  “Well, say I want to take you out for a little, rather than, ah, getting right down and dirty with it, hm?” Her eyes narrowed at me.

  “You didn’t seem to have much of a problem with it the other night.” She sounded like she found me suspicious; at least she didn’t take me entirely at face value.

  “Well no. I never pay for something I’ve not properly sampled, Elizabeth. And…” I came around my desk, walked over to where she sat. Arms braced on each of the arms, I leaned over, face right in front of hers.

  “If I recall, you weren’t really opposed to what I wanted when you came to me the other night, hm? My desk still smells like your satisfaction.”

  She shoved at me, and I laughed. I held my hands up, giving concession.

  “I tease, I tease. Come on. We’re going to eat and I’ll pay you for your company. Fair enough?”

  I didn’t let her answer before I walked out of my office. I could hear her heels click on the floor as she followed behind me.

  She didn’t talk to me much on our way out to lunch. I asked her all sorts of questions – what she liked to eat, where she liked to go, what she did for a living. All her answers were short, to the point, without any emotional give to them at all. For someone in her position, she was prickly; rather than piss me off, it amused me. I wanted to see how deep I could worm my way past all of that. If we were going to be spending a lot of time together, after all, I wanted to at least see how much I could get out of her before she bled me dry of money and went on her merry way.

  I pulled into Chevalier’s, a little French restaurant just south of Ray’s. Elizabeth let herself out, not even waiting for me to round my car before he got out, straightening
up her dress as she did. I eyed her, openly, enjoying the slight rise of her hem just under the line of her rear. I decided then that I was going to have some fun.

  “I hope you like French,” I said, coming up beside her to take her arm in mine, have her pressed close to my side like she was mine for real and not just for show. She felt stiff beside me, before she relaxed just a little. I grinned as I led us to the front, the host nodding to me as I did.

  “Mr. Adams. I’ll take you to your table.”

  The fact that he knew exactly who I was seemed to surprise her. She looked up at me with a raised brow before muttering something to herself.

  “What?” I said. “Can’t believe people at a fancy French place know who I am?”

  “I’m surprised they let you in the front door,” she muttered.

  At that, I laughed. We were seated, and I ordered a decent wine for the both of us. She didn’t seem to know what to think of the place; it was a classic French set-up, very well put together. In honesty it was one of my favorite places to bring company. I had the money and the taste for it, why not indulge? Her confusion was entertaining, and when the waiter came back with our drinks, I toasted to her.

  “To you and your father’s good health.”

  Her brow twitched at that, and it was really kind of cute. Nevertheless she drank, and we once more lapsed into silence.

  “This is the first time that you’ve done something like this, huh?” I questioned, head tilted.

  “I’ve been to restaurants before,” she said, words sharp as ever on her tongue.

  “I don’t mean the restaurant, Elizabeth. I mean this arrangement. You’ve never prostituted yourself out, have you?”

  She looked around, as if afraid that someone around would hear.

  “Keep your voice down!” she urged. I only shrugged, taking another drink of my wine.