“Destry…” Gerry looked sick. He got up and went to pour himself a glass of scotch, not asking permission. Destry watched him with a smile.
“What’s the matter, Gerry? Disappointed you missed your opportunity to fuck my ex?”
Gerry downed his whiskey. “My friend just died. Have some compassion.”
Noosh was astonished. Gerry never, ever talked back to Destry. Ever. She tensed, waiting for Destry to explode. But Destry merely shrugged and ran a hand down Noosh’s back. “Don’t be sad. All this talk of ex-wives has given me an idea, something that will please our base and the more conservative members of the party. A wedding. Nothing flashy, nothing that looks like we spent campaign money on it. City Hall. Plenty of press. This week.”
“No.” Noosh shook her head, and Destry smirked.
“You really don’t have too much choice in the matter, Anoushka. Set it up,” he barked at Gerry, and then got up, pulling Noosh to her feet. “I’ll be in my fiancée’s bed until further notice.”
As she was dragged across the suite, Noosh turned to look desperately at Gerry. He gazed back – and gave an almost imperceptible nod. It could have meant anything, but a rush of adrenaline and relief flooded through Noosh’s body.
He was going to help her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Christo shifted uncomfortably in the chair in his father’s study. He shot an impatient look at Bertie. “So, this is his game now? Keeping us waiting?”
“Dude, chill. We’re here for your girl. If Fog wants to play games, let him, if it makes him feel superior, let him. Noosh’s life is at stake, not your pride. Suck it up.”
Christo’s eyebrows shot up, and he smiled for the first time in weeks. “Wow. Tough love time.”
Bertie nodded. “You betcha.”
Christo chuckled. “Well, alright then.” His phone beeped with a message, and he flicked through it. His smile faded. “No. No…oh god.”
“What?”
Christo dropped his head into his hands. “Telly. Telly’s dead.”
“What the hell?”
“Suicide. Oh fuck, oh fuck…I got her killed.”
“Yeah, not so much.”
Both men jumped and turned to see the very-much-alive Telly walk into the room, flanked by Fogliano and his lawyer. Christo gaped at her, and she laughed, coming to him and hugging the stunned man. Bertie smirked and looked at Fogliano.
“You behind this?”
Fogliano inclined his head gracefully. “It’s just the first move, my friend.” As Telly released Christo, he looked at his son. “Hello, Christofalo.”
Christo steeled himself. “Hi, Dad.”
The two men stared at each other for a long moment, then Fogliano put his hand on his son’s arm. “Why don’t we all sit and discuss how we can get your girl back?”
“I went to Fogliano because I didn’t know who else to turn to. Destry has people in his pocket in government, law enforcement and so many other places that you wouldn’t believe.” Telly looked at Bertie and Christo. “I think, and correct me if I’m wrong, that Noosh had the same idea.”
“She did.”
Christo looked at his father. “Dad, I have to ask you something. Noosh, when she left me, she told me she’d been to see you, that she’d asked you for something, and that if you didn’t give it to her, she would be gone.” He drew in a deep breath. “Dad, please tell me. Did she ask you for money?”
Fogliano smiled at his son. “No, Christofalo, she didn’t come to me for money. She came to me for protection…for you.”
Christo didn’t expect the rush of relief to hit him quite so hard, and he bent double, dragging breath into his lungs. Telly rubbed his back, and for a moment they all sat in silence.
“But you turned her down?” Bertie, this time, asking the question he knew Christo wanted to ask.
“I did,” Fogliano said carefully. “My experience told me that if Noosh were to believe I was handling it, she would become less…careful. As it turns out, I should have told her I had every intention of helping the both of you. Christofalo…Christo…I have done many things in my life, many things I regret, but none more so than the times I have brought pain to my family. You, your mother. I know you blame me for her death, and I blame myself too. I did not see how sick she was.”
He looked away from his son for a long moment. “When we met…the love, Christo, the love we had for each other. I saw it in your Noosh’s eyes. She adores you, loves you, would die for you.”
“And I for her,” Christo said quietly, and Fogliano nodded.
“I know that, son. So, quietly, I began to reach out to my contacts, to see how we could bring Papps down and set Noosh free from his influence. I asked around, especially after she left you, supposedly for him.”
“And what did you find out?”
Fogliano hesitated. “We found where her parents are being held, a small holding on the Scottish borders. My men are watching, waiting for my cue to intervene.”
Christo looked at him sharply. “Why haven’t you got them out?”
“Because, Christo, if Papps thinks he no longer has leverage over Noosh, he’ll kill her. Calm down.” Bertie’s voice was hard.
Christo sighed. “Of course, I’m sorry.” He looked at Telly. “How do you come into this…and why fake the suicide?”
Telly smiled at him. “After you and I spoke at the Bethesda Terrace, Fogliano approached me.”
“I had you and Noosh watched – merely for protection’s sake, of course,” Fogliano added. “I knew that if we were to bring Papps down, then Telly would be our way in. She could testify against him, ruin his chances in the election. Therefore, her life was in danger, so we cooked up the fake suicide. We’ll drop her on him at the most crucial moment.”
“How?”
“A press conference,” Telly said. “I’m going to tell the total truth about Destry Papps.”
“They’ll paint you as a bitter ex-wife looking for revenge.”
Telly nodded. “Quite possibly, but I have another ace up my sleeve.”
“What?”
She smiled. “Gerry Noll. Destry is convinced he is loyal to him, and he is – except for one weakness.”
“What?”
“Me. Gerry and I have been seeing each other for a year or so. I credit him with my staying alive all this time. Destry trusts him – or rather, is arrogant enough to believe Gerry won’t turn. If I go public, I guarantee Gerry will back me up.”
Christo shook his head. “That’s too flimsy for me. I need assurances.”
“There are none, son,” Fogliano said. “We’re dealing with a psychopath with immense power and reach. To him, women are objects, to own, to possess, to kill. Up until he met Noosh, he was very careful to cover his tracks, as was the case with your friend, Jasmine. But his obsession with her…”
“Is his weakness.” Christo sat up, fire raging in his eyes, and Fogliano nodded.
“And yours.”
“No,” Christo shook his head. “She is my strength.”
Fogliano smiled at his son. “For whatever has passed between us in the past, I have never been prouder of you than I am at this moment. We will fight for your love, Christo. Even if it costs us everything.”
Bertie’s phone beeped, interrupting the moment, and they looked at him as he held his phone up, grim-faced. “Looks like we’ve got a date to aim for. The Senator has just announced he’s getting married.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Noosh lay under Destry’s heavy, sweating body as he pumped away at her. She tuned out everything, wishing she could just decide to die and that would be that. He raped her every night now, and she had forced herself not to fight him. Keeping Destry sweet was one thing; however, pretending to enjoy his ‘lovemaking’ was another.
After he’d finished, he rolled off of her and got up. Thankfully, he always used a condom, and now as he went into the en-suite bathroom, he gave a long sigh.
“Anoushka, w
hen we are married, I expect you to be a willing partner. I expect you to be present.”
No chance. Married. Fuck, no. She sat up, waiting for him to leave the bathroom before she could bathe his stink off of her. He came back but grabbed her arm as she got up and pulled her back down on the bed. He ran a finger down her belly, tracing the scars there and smirking.
“In two years’ time, I will drive you to a private cabin I have on Long Island. There, I will take your life. I will stab you so many times that the medical examiner won’t bother to count the wounds. Your body will be discovered and I, devastated by my beautiful wife’s death, will order a full investigation…and Christofalo will be arrested and tried for your murder. He will be found guilty, the knife that killed you hidden in the home that you shared. He will go to prison…and be found dead soon after – shanked in the showers by some of his father’s enemies. He will get it in the gut, like you, Anoushka. That must some comfort, knowing you and your criminal will die the same way.”
Destry said this all in a sing-song voice, but his words had the opposite effect than what he wanted, to frighten her. Instead, Noosh started to laugh. Destry’s face creased in rage, but she kept on chuckling.
“You really are batshit crazy, aren’t you?” Noosh pushed him off her. She got up and went to the drawer of the bathroom, pulling out a pair of scissors. She handed them to him. “Do it now. Kill me. Stick those in my belly. Come on, you coward, what are you waiting for?”
She grabbed the hand with the scissors and pressed the sharp tip into her navel. “Push it in. Gut me. Fucking slaughter me, Destry, because I swear to god, tonight is the last night you’ll ever touch me.”
“Don’t test me, little girl.”
“No, I think I will. This is it, Destry, this is the limit to my patience. Just who the fuck do you think you are? Go on, kill me, kill my parents, Christo, everyone I care about. Because I swear to you, you won’t get away with it, you vile disgrace of a human.”
Destry grabbed her neck and forced her against the wall, choking her. Noosh felt the scissors press hard into her skin. “You fucking little whore!”
Noosh kneed him hard in the groin. She didn’t care now, she wanted him to hurt her – badly – so badly that he couldn’t write it off as an accident, that it would be obvious to the world what a monster he was.
He let her go, buckling as he rode out the pain in his balls. Noosh slid down the wall, panting hard, her throat sore. Finally, Destry stood up, looking down at her with undisguised hatred. “You will pay for that, Anoushka. But not until we are married. Our honeymoon will be nothing but unimaginable pain for you. Remember that.”
He left her alone, and Noosh curled up. What had she achieved? Not much. Too late, she saw that he had taken the scissors with him – why the fuck hadn’t she waited until he was asleep and used them on him?
Because he had her parents. If Destry turned up dead, they would be killed immediately. God, he really had her, didn’t he?
Noosh couldn’t cry – she had no tears left. She dragged her robe on and curled up in the corner, not wanting to lie in the bed where she was raped. She fell into an uneasy sleep, only to wake suddenly when a hand touched her.
Gerry put his finger to his lips. “He’s asleep, I only have a few moments.”
Noosh stared at him for a moment. “You’ll help?”
He nodded. Noosh considered, then took her necklace off and dropped it into his hand. “Take this to Christo. Tell him all you can. Tell him…I’m sorry and that…I love him. I will always love him no matter what. Make sure he gets my parents out safely. They must be his priority.”
Gerry nodded and got up to go. She grabbed his hand. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “For Telly.”
“For Telly.”
Christo was still awake. He was back in his old bedroom at his father’s mansion, which felt weird and yet…after Bertie and Telly had retired, Christo and Fogliano had talked properly for the first time since…forever. They spoke about Ornella, his father’s pain at her sickness, her passing, his guilt. He apologized over and over for beating Christo.
“I cannot pretend to be a good man,” he said. “But I can try to be a better father.”
It was almost dawn before his father retired. He tentatively hugged his son, a little awkwardly, but Christo returned the embrace. Fogliano studied his son. “Trust in her love. Trust in your love. Dream about her, son. Dream about your future, the family you will make together. Believe.”
Christo closed his eyes and imagined he and Noosh were back in their little Italian villa. He remembered how she would love to stand naked looking out over the ocean. He dreamed that he was with her now, sliding his arms around her waist, pressing his lips down on her shoulders, breathing in her skin, the scent of fresh air and clean linen.
“I love you,” he murmured, and she turned in his arms, pressing her breasts against his bare chest, her dark brown eyes soft with love as she cupped his face in her hands.
“I love you too, Christo, so, so much.”
His mouth found hers, hungry for his kiss, and they embraced until they were breathless. Christo slid his hands between her legs and smiled.
“You’re wet.”
“For you, always, baby.” She slid her hands into the waistband of his light cotton pants and stroked his cock. It quivered and stiffened in her hands, and as it hardened, she pulled on the drawstring of his pants, and they fell to the ground.
The scene shifted. They were in the bedroom, Noosh was on the bed, and as Christo watched, she slowly spread her legs, smiling at him. He gazed at the beautiful sight of her cunt – pink, swollen with arousal, glistening, damp. He gave a groan and covered her body with his, sliding his engorged cock deep inside her velvety cunt. The gasp she gave spurred him on as he moved in and out of her. She clung to him, rubbing her hard nipples against his chest, kissing him deeply, her fingernails digging into his buttocks, urging him deeper, harder, faster.
Her cry as she came was like music to him, and when he too reached his climax, pumping his seed deep into her belly, she whispered over and over how much she loved him.
The scene changed again, and this time she was barefoot, wearing the lightest white cotton dress, her belly swollen with his child. Before he knew it, there was a child, a dark-haired, caramel-skinned child with his green eyes running in the fields behind the house, he and Noosh chasing her as she giggled and screamed with joy.
Another change. A hospital bed, a new-born child, a boy with his father’s dark curls. An exhausted but elated Noosh kissing his tiny head, then pressing her lips to Christo’s.
Finally, as Christo gave into sleep, Noosh, beautiful in white, tiny flowers in her hair, walking towards him, towards the altar where he stood. “Finally,” Christo said to her just as the image dissolved and sleep took him.
When he woke in the morning, Christo knew that even if he had to kill to do it, he would make that future come true.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Noosh woke on the day of her wedding, wishing she was dead. Gerry had gone AWOL with her necklace and nothing had happened. Nothing. She felt betrayed, depressed, her last hope gone. Had Gerry changed his mind? Or had Destry discovered his lieutenant’s duplicity and killed her only ally?
It didn’t matter. In a few hours, she would be Destry’s wife – and the thought made her gag – and it would be all over. She would kill herself if it weren’t for the fact that Destry would have no reason to release her parents. She was utterly trapped.
A minion of Destry’s had brought her a dress to wear. Ivory, clinging to her every curve, but still respectable – for the photos, of course. The one thing he couldn’t make her do was smile. Fuck him.
She dressed slowly, deliberately not brushing her hair, but Destry had thought of that, of course, and sent in an army of make-up artists and hairdressers and by the time she was led – at gunpoint – to the waiting limousine, she looked nothing like herself. God, let this be over with.<
br />
At City Hall, Destry had a fleet of journalists clamoring for the first look at his new bride. Unsmiling, Noosh stepped from the limousine to flashing light bulbs. Shaking, her fingers went instinctively to her throat but found it bare. Not even her dragonfly to keep her from going insane. Destry had his hand wrapped around her upper arm as he flashed his thousand-watt smile at the reporters, answering their questions, laughing with them.
“Hey, guys, I’d love to stay and talk, but I gotta get inside and make this little beauty Mrs. Papps.”
His smile disappeared as soon as they were inside, and Noosh noticed his security team had cleared the hallways. Destry marched them towards the courtroom. Noosh balked as he opened the door, and she stopped, panic setting in.
“I can’t do this.” She looked at Destry with pleading eyes. “Please…don’t make me do this.”
Destry smirked and dragged her into the room. The court bailiff looked startled.
“Is everything okay?”
Destry gave her a sincere smile. “Oh, just being playful. That’s what we do, we joke around. Don’t we, darling?”
He looked at Noosh, and all she could see in his eyes was murder. She nodded dumbly.
The bailiff looked unsure. “Well, okay. The judge will be with you shortly.”
For a moment they were alone, and Destry grabbed Noosh’s face. “Don’t forget, slut, that it’s only due to my goodwill that you’re still alive. That I’m willing to give you two years. So make this good. Play your part. Or Mommy and Daddy might suffer the consequences.”
He let her go as the courtroom doors opened and the judge came in, along with two of Destry’s security team. Their witnesses. Noosh didn’t even know their names.
The judge ran through the procedure then began. Destry had apparently paid him to be more flowery than usual for a courtroom marriage. As they got to the “Does anyone object?” part, Noosh felt the desperate urge to scream out “Yes! Yes! I object!” but Destry was standing too close, was gazing down at her, tension rolling off of him, daring her to speak. So, she stayed silent and closed her eyes.
No Promises: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 14