by Leah Wilde
Fiona leaned up a little higher to look at the area behind Vince’s town car, revealing all three of them still standing there, bent over and breathing hard. Relief coursed through Fiona’s veins immediately, and she sagged against the log, adrenaline temporarily abandoning her body. But she quickly refocused her eyes on Guido, remembering the danger that still surrounded them.
“Why are you hiding, big brother?” Guido said mockingly, stepping closer to the town car. “Aren’t you the big, tough man? Aren’t you the rightful boss, huh?”
“Is that what this is about?” Vince asked, shouting loudly so that his voice would carry over to his brother. “You think I want the Romano family? You can have it! It’s yours! Just let me and Fiona go!”
“So you and that whore can ride off into the sunset together? No fucking way!” Guido screamed, suddenly marching faster over to the town car. Vince and the others set off into a run, splitting up into three different directions. Guido was caught off-guard, firing his gun every which way and failing to hit any of them. “Motherfucker!” he screamed as he set off after Vince.
Fiona’s limbs surged into action then, no longer content to remain hiding in safety while her man was threatened. She took off as fast as she could through the trees, pushing her limbs to their absolute limit until she crashed into Guido’s back, knocking the gun out of his hands by the sheer force of her momentum. “Stay down, fucker,” she whispered into his ear before biting hard onto his shoulder, making him scream out in pain.
“Fiona!” Vince yelled out, turning around to run back to Guido, kicking his little brother right in the face as he approached.
But Guido didn’t stay down for long, knocking Fiona off his back and then leaping to his feet to punch his brother in the face.
“Yeah, come on, asshole, show me what you got,” Vince taunted his brother, swinging several times but missing while Guido launched several ferocious punches into his stomach.
“You will never fucking beat me,” Guido spat, swinging his arms this way and that to knock Fiona back to the ground when she tried to attack him again.
“That’s the last time you ever fucking touch her!” Vince screamed, grabbing Guido by the shoulders and forcing him to the ground, kicking him in the face several times until blood spurted out from his brother’s mouth.
“Oh, man, I can’t wait to tie you up and make you watch me while I screw her,” Guido said, spitting more blood out of his mouth before he staggered to his feet and surged forward to wrestle Vince back down to the ground.
“You. Will. Never. Hurt. Her. Again,” Vince said in between punches, struggling under Guido’s weight but still managing to do his fair share of damage himself.
Fiona took the opportunity to scan the area around them, searching for Vince’s servant and driver, but instead, her eyes landed on something much better. The gun, just off to one side, a mere foot away from the tangle of the two men fighting for her.
Fiona took off running, going the long way around a tree so that Guido wouldn’t be able to stop her before she could get to the other side.
Meanwhile, Guido got the upper hand over Vince, smashing him in the face again and again and again and again, but then Vince flipped them over and returned the favor.
“Fucker, piece of shit,” Vince muttered as he landed blow after blow into Guido’s face.
Fiona finally got to the gun, grabbing it and cocking it as she pointed it at Guido. “Vince. Stop it. I’ve got this.”
But Vince didn’t stop, even after Guido went limp under him, apparently accepting his defeat. He just kept smacking his brother about the face again and again, turning him into a red-purple blur, covered in blood.
“Vince!” Fiona screamed as loud as she could, finally making Vince pause in his violence and look up at her. “Don’t do it. He’s not worth it, okay? Don’t be like him.”
Vince looked like he wanted to argue with her, wiping the blood off his own face and opening his mouth to reply, but when Fiona interjected, “Please. Don’t,” he just nodded and got up off of his brother.
“It’s over,” Fiona said, sighing in relief even as Guido rolled over, his hands shaking as he raised them to wipe the blood away from his face.
“Guido,” Vince called out when Guido began to crawl away, trying to escape in the general direction of the compound on the other side of the woods. “It’s finished. We’ve got the proof we need. It’s done.”
“It’s not done,” Guido croaked out, his voice hoarse after the beating he’d received. “It’s never done. The Romano family will go on.”
“Yes, but not with you at the helm,” Vince said, following his brother and stepping on his hand to keep him from moving forward any further. “We know, Guido. About the girls.”
“What?” Guido said, having to spit out a little more blood to force the word out of his mouth.
“The small Russian wrenches,” Fiona said, shaking her head in disgust. “You’re going to go to jail for a very long time.”
All at once, Guido reared up from the ground, using the last bit of his strength to knock Vince off his feet before turning on his heel and rushing towards Fiona, who barely had time to start running before Guido crashed into her, making her fall to the ground while Guido wrenched the gun from her hands. “No! Vince! Vince!” she screamed, sure that it was her last moment on this planet.
There was a single shot, right behind her, and for a moment, Fiona was certain that life had ended. There was only darkness around her, pressing it on all sides.
“Fiona. Fiona, baby, I’m here. It’s okay. I’m here.” Vince’s voice pierced through the fuzzy darkness, the warmth of his hand tearing through the numbness around her and pulling her out of the shadow.
She gasped for air as her eyes opened again. She must have passed out, but she looked around the woods now and saw only Vince, who was cupping her face and wiping the sweat from her forehead. “It’s okay. We’re alive, baby. We’re alive.”
“What happened?” Fiona stuttered out, her breath coming hard and fast as she tried to get her body to calm down.
“Guido,” Vince said, gesturing over to the left, where his lifeless body was still on the ground. “He killed himself.”
“Jesus Christ,” Fiona murmured, leaning forward and pressing her head onto Vince’s shoulder. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“I know, baby,” Vince said soothingly into her ear, rubbing the back of her neck and the top of her back until she stopped breathing so hard. “It’s going to be okay, though.”
“I’m so sorry,” Fiona said softly, pulling back to look Vince in the eyes, which were red and irritated, like he was holding back tears. “I’m so fucking sorry, honey.”
“It’s okay,” Vince said quietly.
“No, it’s not. First your father, and now this,” Fiona said, gesturing to Guido’s empty, bloody body. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.”
Vince was quiet a moment, biting down on his bottom lip and then looking up at Fiona through his thick dark eyelashes. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m feeling it yet either.” He sniffed and picked a clump of blood off his nose, tossing it to the ground.
“Your nose…I think it’s broken,” Fiona said, whimpering softly as she carefully touched the beaten, bloody mess in the center of Vince’s face.
“I’ll be okay,” Vince said, wincing a little as he readjusted his legs. “Today could have gone a lot worse.”
“Oh, yeah?” Fiona said, feeling a smile flutter its way onto her face.
“Yeah,” Vince said, helping Fiona stagger to her feet and walk back over to the town car, where the two servants were waiting for them. “I could be dealing with this alone. But I’m not. I have you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“All right, all right, settle down,” Vince said after playing the tape recording of his mother’s confession to the room full of senior Romano family members, who were now all muttering under their breath about what they’d just heard. “
So now you know. That’s why my mother fled the country.”
“We have to find her!” one of the older men, Tommy’s younger brother, said, banging his fists down on the boardroom table. “This cannot go unpunished.”
“It’s not,” Vince said. “She will be alone for the rest of her life, cut off from the dynasty she thinks she built. That’s more than enough punishment for her, believe me.”
The room exploded into noise again, various members of the organization arguing with each other about the best course of action. Vince cleared his throat, and the room fell silent again, waiting on his every word. “That’s my decision. You can either honor it or get the hell out. Meeting adjourned.”
He exited the boardroom, feeling a little high on the power that he’d so successfully exerted over the other men in the business. They respected him now. They knew he was the rightful leader, especially after they learned about Guido’s crimes.
Fiona was waiting for him outside of the boardroom, an anxious look etched across her face. “Well?” she asked nervously in a hushed tone of voice.
“It’s done,” Vince said, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her away from the boardroom door.
“So it’s over? They’re really going to trust you as leader and….and nobody has a problem with me as your number two?” Fiona asked, scratching the side of her face.
“First things first, you’re not my number two,” Vince said sternly, even though he regretted taking that tone when he saw how Fiona’s face fell in disappointment. “What I mean is, we’re equals. If I’m number one, you’re number one. I can’t do this without you, Fiona.”
She brightened up then, smiling shyly at him before leaning in to kiss him deeply. “Well, as long as you’re still number one in the bedroom,” she said with a mischievous smirk.
“Some things never change,” Vince said, rubbing the side of Fiona’s cheek gently before reaching around to spank her ass.
Fiona squealed under her breath, looking around to make sure that nobody saw that interaction. “You know, I’m not so sure about that anymore.”
“About what?” Vince asked, confused.
“What you just said. About things never changing. You proved that sometimes people can surprise you.”
“How so?” Vince asked, reaching down to take Fiona’s hand into his and lead her out of the office for their lunch break.
“Well, for instance,” Fiona began, dropping her voice as they passed a clump of Romano employees, who all nodded in deference to the both of them, “you surrendered control. To Guido, in the woods, when you were afraid that he was going to kill me. You were willing to give up the company if it meant keeping me safe.”
Vince was quiet a moment, letting Fiona’s words sink in. He stared at her, trying to memorize every last detail of her face, before leading her in the direction of their town car. “You know, some things are more important than power.”
“Like what?” Fiona asked, even though the warm, triumphant look in her eyes suggested that she already knew the answer.
“Love,” Vince said, leaning in to kiss her again. “It’s love.”
With that, the new king and queen of the Romano family business began their reign, loving each other as fiercely as they fucked, treating each other like the master and mistress they truly were.
THE END
RIDE ME: A Dark Romance [FREE Bonus Book]
Chapter 1
Julia
“That’s it,” I said to myself as I put the last stack of folders on my new desk. I looked around my new office and felt a sense of pride. At just twenty-eight years old, I didn’t know anyone else who’d made it to my position.
In just a few short years, I had gone from being just a graduate student seeking my master’s degree in history to having worked my way up as a professor, and now a doctor of history at the University of Chicago. I had been granted the department chair position when I graduated with my PhD, and due to my continued research, I was now moving into my new office as a senior research fellow, meaning more pay, fewer courses, and a lot more field work.
“You’ve finally made it,” I said as I surveyed my new office.
Bookshelves lined the walls with cabinets underneath, running along the bottoms of the walls. Tall, floor-to-ceiling windows sat in the wall behind my new, dark wooden desk. They overlooked one of the campus courtyards. I had already filled most of the bookshelves up just from moving into the new office, and I still had a couple of boxes of books left. All of my paper files were stacked on my desk, waiting for a home.
The adrenaline of moving all of my stuff into the new office wore off, and I crashed into the thick, soft leather chair behind my desk. I sat and stared at the towers of folders on my desk and understood why some of the other young professors had pushed me so hard to get everything filed electronically. I was not looking forward to putting those files up.
I needed a break, a vacation. I needed to get out of the university and get back in the field. My focus was Russian history. From politics to religion, from the geographic and ideological isolation to the rich culture and language of the Russian people, I had immersed myself in anything and everything Russian.
And it had finally paid off!
I wanted to get out of the office and celebrate, but all of my research had left me short on friends to celebrate with. I felt like I should have been at a point where I could take some time for myself finally, but there didn’t seem to be much self to take time with. Everything I used to identify myself was sitting in the office with me.
I wanted to call my mom and to share the news, but she wouldn’t know I was even on the phone.
I stood up and walked to the window, looking down at the students and professors walking through the courtyard. Some were holding hands. Some had their arms around each other. I hoped one day that would be me, but I knew it was a long way out. I still had a lot of work ahead of me, and a lot of bills to pay between student loans and my mom’s medical expenses.
The reason I couldn’t call my mom was because she suffered from an early onset of Alzheimer’s, and it was advancing pretty rapidly. I’d moved her into a home while I was still working on my PhD. She required almost constant care, and as a student and research professor, I hadn’t been able to provide the kind of care she needed.
At times I found it easy to feel guilty, like I’d chosen my career over my family. But I reminded myself that she’d done the same, waiting until her late-twenties to settle down and start a family of her own, waiting until she had established herself as a doctor of linguistics.
I kept a picture of her on my wall from the day she graduated with her PhD, one of the proudest moments of her life. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. On a trip to Russia when I was a child, while she was studying some of the lesser known Eastern European languages that had re-emerged after the fall of the Soviet Union, I’d heard someone trying to talk to her in Russian, and I fell in love with the language. That was the beginning of my lifelong love affair with the people and their country, a country shrouded in mystery for most of my peers who had never visited it, thanks to the Cold War.
I pulled the picture out of a box and held it in my hand. “I’ve made it,” I told the young version of my mom, knowing that she would have understood what I was saying, and who was saying it.
There was a light knock at my door, bringing me back into the office. I turned around to see one of the professors’ assistants standing in my doorway, eagerly looking in on the boxes and stacks of papers cluttering the room.
“Dr. Danvers, there’s a gentleman here to see you,” the graduate student said uneasily. “Do you want me to tell him to come back?”
I looked around the room and sighed, dropping the picture of my mother back on top of the box it temporarily called home. “No, go ahead and send him in, I guess.”
“You got it,” he said, tapping the door frame and starting to turn away.
“Wait,” I said quickly, catching h
im before he could get away.
He poked his head back into my office. “What is it?”
“First, can you help me clear off my desk?” I asked him. “I don’t want to receive any visitors with this clutter in here. We don’t have to put this stuff away, but I’d like to look at least a little like my title.”
He laughed nervously. “I’ll be glad to.” He grabbed stacks of papers and set them on the floor in front of the cabinets along the bottom of one wall.
“Any idea who it is?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No clue.”
“Student or faculty?” was my next question.
“Neither.”
I set down the last stack of papers from my desk and tilted my head, wondering who was coming to see me. Today of all days. “Go ahead and send them in,” I told him.