Merciless King: A Hero Club Novel

by Ellie Jean

“Pfft…” My good friend knows me well. “Take me home.”

  “So you can start your wild dreams?”

  “Yes.” I’m beyond caring tonight. I’ve already said more than I normally would but my head is a lot lighter after telling my good friend something I’ve been trying to make sense of.

  Chuck can’t be rationalized in a few words alone.

  Starcy starts the car. “Tell me more about this man.”

  “I’d love to.”

  Chuck

  “I’m effectively in a fortress.” Tomme gave me my own quarters three nights ago. Permitted to stay in his house until he could arrange more security for my apartment. “My apartment as you know has state-of-the-art security. He wants to keep me here, that’s what it comes down to.”

  Andre and Cristo were quick to act when I phoned them to bring over my personal belongings and have been in and out keeping me sane. “How long did he say you had to stay?”

  “There’s no time limit. I predict my security won’t be done anytime soon. I’ll be a prisoner here for as long as he wants.” Rubbing my neck, tiredness envelops me.

  “And he said you could still fight?” Concern etches Cristo’s face.

  “He gave me his word. I haven’t seen him but I’ve been making use of the gym and Sal and Nizo continue to train me. Although I’m fucking mad at them.”

  “I’m still in shock, you’re Tomme Basilio’s son. How the fuck did Sal and Nizo keep it a secret for years?”

  “Under strict orders not to say a word, but keep me safe.” I down some of my beer and contemplate all the lies over the years. “I guess that’s why the world champion fight didn’t come my way.”

  “Has he said when you’re to take over?” Andre is concerned for me. His soft voice is contemplative.

  “All he says is soon. First I have to build up my skills, knowledge and relationships before I’m revealed to the rest of the families and underworld. It’s fucking ridiculous. I want nothing to do with it. This life isn’t mine. Fighting is all I care about. How the fuck do I get out of this obligation?”

  All of us look to one another for any words of wisdom, but there aren’t any. My guys have no answers, just like me. For now, I will concentrate on fighting, listen to Tomme, taking in my family heritage and what it means to be a part of the Basilio family and win the world title.

  “So has Sal organized your fight details with Wilders?” Cristo paces the room with a glass in his hand.

  “Tomme spoke to Sal. I wasn’t there but Nizo spoke to me about three hours ago about arranging a talk with them and getting a date booked in.” Today has been the first day my head has stopped pounding since I found out about my father and only because of the news on the fight. Constantly training in the gym across the hall from my room hasn’t even been able to take the thumping away. Collapsing in bed each night after dinner with Tomme, Sal, and Nizo, I am happy when exhaustion takes ahold sending me into a trouble free sleep. No one else has been allowed inside this mansion since I arrived and getting my two closest friends in here is not an easy feat, but worth it.

  “Fuck, man, good news.” Cristo raises his bottle. “To becoming the heavyweight champion.” Clinking our Peronis, we all smile.

  “I’ll drink to that.” I empty my bottle.

  “Time for me to go. Gotta sort some shit out if we are back on the training campaign.”

  “Expect you both here at six a.m. Nothing’s getting in our way this time, boys.” Bro hugging and a chin lift, they depart leaving me to get an early night.

  My room consists of a king-size bed, indigo blanket with gold edging. A desk is located in the corner with a TV above it. The ensuite is the size of mine in my apartment but it’s covered in a light gray granite from floor to ceiling and there’s only a shower, no bath. There’s been no expense spared and why would he have to, he’s the head of a crime syndicate. King of New York, soon to be headed by me.

  Fuck…

  Flopping back on my bed, I look at the white ceiling. Tomme’s determined to tell me all there is to know about him and my family. The gore, the killings, expectations and how my life will no longer be mine once my name is spread around. With it comes extreme responsibility, wealth, and respect. It’s become clear to me how he was a pawn, like me, in the beginning. There was no choice for him and hasn’t been since. It’s his duty until I take over. Three days of listening to him and my sense of understanding is growing. But I still don’t want any part of it, but it’s becoming clearer each day, I really have no choice. If I decide to leave, my father’s reputation will die with him along with his employees and extended family. They will be wiped out. The Basilio family will be eradicated after centuries of running this huge city. It will all be for nothing. Can I have that on my conscience? Possibly, but now I know more about my…Tomme, and my mother and what I would be effectively destroying, I’m uncertain.

  I’m being brainwashed. I know it. But I am slowly coming to an understanding internally of what he’s saying to me in his daily chants and history lessons. It sounds too soon, and I mentally chastise myself each night for believing a word he says but at the same time I’m engrossed by the details of my father and the life.

  A flash catches my line of sight. My phone’s lit up for the hundredth time since I’ve been locked down. Struggling with the knowledge of who I am, I refuse to even look at my phone after Mother tried to call me and message me every five minutes, so no doubt it’s another message from Fiorella. I’m not ready yet to talk to her which is ironic since it’s my father who has betrayed me as well, but living with my mother and being devastated each Father’s Day or Christmas, the feeling of betrayal is still encompassing every thought.

  Fiorella—Please talk to me. I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough and I know it makes no difference now, but I am truly sorry. You know I love you. Please call. Xxx

  Scrolling through the mass of messages, a voice message catches my attention from nights ago. I try to remember the last time I received a voice message. No one I know leaves them because they know I can’t stand them. Send me a text and don’t waste my time. Pressing the voicemail number, I lay back on my bed and listen.

  There’s some rustling then a sweet voice. “I told you his voice is sexy.”

  I laugh the loudest I have in weeks and continue to listen.

  “Instant orgasm material right there. I get why you have no room left in that head of yours.” Tears form in my eyes. “Combined with his virile body, it’s overload. It’s too much.”

  There’s more fumbling then it ends.

  Blossom…

  A warmness sears through me. It’s unexpected but welcome.

  I can’t stop laughing.

  She thinks my voice is sexy and I have a virile body? What the fuck is that word. Quickly I Google the definition and smile as I read: virile- (of a man) having strength, energy, and a strong sex drive.

  She sees me like that?

  Lifting my chin, I drag in a huge breath expanding my lungs in self-satisfaction and I break into a wider smile.

  Why was she calling?

  My fingers fly across the phone and I hit send.

  Chuck—Hello, Blossom. Are you there?

  Caroline—Who’s this?

  She’s a cheeky flirt.

  Chuck—Do you have others call you Blossom?

  Caroline—Hmmm. Let me think. I don’t know any Blossom.

  Chuck—You better hope you don’t. And Caro, that blush you get on your face thinking about me is so pink like a Cherry Blossom, you know it’s the perfect name for you.

  Caroline—What blush and don’t flatter yourself.

  Chuck- You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?

  Caroline- Hmmm? I’m not saying a word. Anyway, why would matter if someone did call me that besides you?

  Chuck—Cause people actually say I am aggressive at times and can knock people out with one blow. I wouldn’t want to try that out on anyone you know.

  Caroline—Oh you blow al
right.

  Erupting multiple times that fateful night, I want so badly to be wrapped around her again.

  Caroline—That doesn’t scare me.

  Chuck—Does anything scare you?

  Witnessing firsthand her worry in Dexter’s office, she may portray a hard woman, but beneath me she’s pliable, letting her guard down completely.

  Caroline—Horror movies, badly cooked cheese sticks, being alone and hmmm… boxing.

  How can she be worried about being alone? What does she mean?

  Chuck—There’s nothing scary about boxing as long as you know what you’re doing.

  Caroline—And of course you know what you’re doing?

  Chuck—I’m the best. Just ask me.

  I can imagine her lips quirking up at the sides thinking what a cocky bastard I am.

  Caroline—Hmmm. I don’t think I will.

  Chuck—Suit yourself. What do you mean by being alone?

  Caroline—Nothing really.

  Chuck—You meant something by it.

  Caroline—Well, I just hope one day someone takes the time to know the real me. I want to be special to someone.

  In that moment, I want to hold her. To give her security and comfort she craves. How can she doubt she won’t be special to someone. I’ve known her for such a small amount of time and Caro is the most unique and special woman I have laid eyes on, spoken to and laid next to. A flood of warmth spreads through me and my mind runs over time. With a thumping chest, I want her to know how special she is.

  Chuck—Can you meet me?

  She means something to me already, because as a boxer devoting time to a random chick is unheard of. But hearing her voice makes me smile, her quick wit makes me laugh even with all this shit going on around me and each part of her is unforgettable. Crossing my legs, lying on the bed, I fold my arms and wait.

  My eyes close, I drift through my thoughts.

  Sal and Nizo are made men.

  Tomme Basilio heads an empire worth millions and many rely on him for their families.

  Guns, drugs, and women are part of his—our—repertoire.

  There haven’t been any wars since he took over from his gunned down father, my grandfather. And that’s because of loyalty issues that were weeded out quickly.

  I’m to be trained in guns and know the drug market. Expressing to Tomme I can handle guns fine, he insisted I will be trained extensively anyway. I am not interested in whoring out women or trading them, so that would be disappearing after I take over. He said nothing to my revelation.

  Names of key people and employees are something I am exposed to daily and will continue to learn. Some I know, some I cringe at because of their relationship to the underworld and they are lying sons of bitches but most are undertaking duties to keep my family safe and in money.

  A vibration brings me back.

  Blossom—Yes. Wild Donkey Saloon in an hour.

  I like there’s no question in her message but a straightforward answer.

  Chuck—I’ll be there, looking for a very special lady.

  Grabbing my wallet and phone, I head to the entrance and realize my car’s not here. I’m in isolation. I hit Sal’s name on my phone and ring.

  “I’m going out, I need a car.”

  “I’ll have a driver ready in five.” It’s the first sensible thing he’s said all week. “He will wait and bring you home when you’re ready.”

  I should argue, but there’s no point. I get to leave my prison easily and I am unsure why but questioning it would be stupid. I’m seeing a gorgeous woman in less than an hour. “Thank you.”

  Caroline

  Days have passed since the origami catastrophe. Not only couldn’t I perfect a simple crane, I drank too much, leaving me with a hideous headache and a vague recollection of phoning Chuck. Panicking for twenty-four hours, thinking I’d embarrassed myself and left some kind of stupid message on his phone, I tuck my tail between my legs and try not to think about it going about my daily work routine. Sweating inside but remaining cool and efficient on the outside putting the disaster out of mind, I prayed no news meant I didn’t make a fool out of myself.

  Walking through the door of the bar, I can’t help thinking about our messages. I hate feeling vulnerable and I don’t let it happen often, yet Chuck’s come along and opened me up more than anyone has. I hope it doesn’t backfire.

  My mouth dries and my pulse rapidly fires like it did when I saw his name light up on my screen an hour ago. Searching the small room, my eyes latch onto the ones vivid in my dreams. There’s a lightness in my chest as I stroll across the wooden floor in my blue jeans and off-the-shoulder light floral blouse.

  “Hi.” I’m sure I’m smiling like a loon.

  Standing from his stool, he leans across and plants a kiss gently under my ear. “Hi, yourself.” A subtle zap of energy pulses through my neck and down my torso. Chuck pulls out the stool next to him and I sit, taking in the scent of cologne. I commit the light cinnamon and rose smell to memory.

  “I got you an espresso martini, I hope that’s okay?”

  “Perfect.” Lifting it to my mouth, my hand shakes slightly as I take in the coffee flavor. “It’s yum.”

  “You’re yum.” Boring his sincere eyes into me, his strength and charisma envelops me.

  Cocking my head, I raise my eyebrows and giggle. Seriously, I’m such a girl. Not the powerful woman I claim to be every day. “I could say the same about you.” Dressed in dark jeans and black t-shirt his muscles beneath ripple as he bends his arm and I follow eagerly each small movement until I’m looking at his strong chin covered in delicious stubble.

  “I’m happy you texted me.” My martini is flowing down a little too easily.

  “It’s only fair after you left me a voice message.” His cheeky smirk appears and I almost fall off the stool.

  An instant furnace engulfs my ears and spreads across my neck and up my cheeks, lit up like a beacon. My body stiffens in place, my fingers tighten on the stem of the glass and I drop my eyes to my half full glass.

  Where can I hide?

  “Blossom.” A firm finger lifts my chin. “Never try and hide the real you from me. I can see the lengths you to go to show the world the Caroline you want to be perceived as, but I won’t let you squash the other fun and spontaneous side. And don’t forget special.”

  “It recorded?” Whispering, I know the answer already and I’m mortified. Christ, Starcy and her ridiculous origami night causing me so much embarrassment.

  “I’m pleased it did because I wouldn’t have messaged you if it hadn’t.” The heat has subsided slightly and I hold my own chin up.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Things have changed. My life’s different for now.” There’s a resigned tone in his voice. “Plus, I’m back training. In two months, I hope to be fighting for the world title.”

  Straightening my shoulders, should I be insulted or excited? “So, I slipped your mind? Too busy? Or one last lay before the big n—”

  “You can stop right there.” Anger propels him, but he still smirks. “There she is. I knew it wouldn’t take much to find your spirit.” He laughs. “I couldn’t hold back from messaging you after I heard your sweet voice, Caro. But I’m not lying, life’s taken a dramatic twist.”

  I question him quietly. “Because of those men the other day outside the cafe?” My free hand lands on his firm leg. Internally my insides switch up a gear.

  “Yeah, but I cannot talk about it. Not yet, anyway.” His hand grips mine and his voice is quieter. “It’s complicated and I understand it’s a poor excuse for not explaining more but when I listen to your voice, my dramas don’t seem so oppressive. They disappeared momentarily and I knew then I needed to see you. My mind quietened after the barrage of noise for days.”

  Hmmm… sounds like I’m having a good effect on him. And looking into his eyes, the sincerity is too much. Reaching out, I cup his chin and look deep within his gaze. A spark radiates between us and m
y hairs stand up on my arms and legs. “When you need to talk, I am here for you. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

  With a reserved smirk, Chuck appears a little vulnerable himself. He takes my hand and kisses the top of it.

  “Thank you.” His thumb rubs over the same spot, electrifying me more. “Tell me, who was with you the other night? Sounds like you were having fun.” He motions to the bartender for another round of drinks without taking his eyes from me.

  “I’d been dragged to a craft night with my good friend Starcy. The only thing was the good drop of red wine they served up.” He’s so easy to chat to and being able to be myself around him is refreshing.

  “Crafts would be the last thing I would have picked you to be into.” I can feel the smile spread across my face. A genuine smile and it feels amazing. Chuck’s so right.

  “I’m not into hiking either but she conned me into doing that last catch up. She has a way of tricking me into doing the oddest things.”

  His fingers ghost across my bare shoulders and goosebumps form. “I don’t see you hiking in your stilettos but other physical activity is definitely something you excel at.”

  I laugh out loud and Chuck follows. We’re back to flirting.

  “Well I am good at skipping and hula hooping if I dare say so myself.”

  “You swinging those delectable hips around and around is something I need to see.” Heat is steaming between us and I gulp some of my new drink trying to extinguish some of the flames bursting up from my stomach.

  “When I was younger, I won a contest, fastest hooper with five hoops which stayed up the longest. I broke the record.”

  “I bet you did. I can only talk from limited experience, but I’d say your hip form is still right up there.”

  Blushing, I look down and compose myself before I jump on his lap and show him more of those skills. Continuing to ramble to subdue the building fire, “I’m not bad at basketball either, netball definitely was a highlight during my school years and ping pong, volleyball, and handball were right up there too.”

  Roaring with laughter, Chuck looks at me. “Sounds like you know how to handle balls perfectly.”