by Ella Miles
I walk over and stand behind her as I look at the painting she’s looking at.
“Who is it a picture of?”
“A memory that I will never forget.”
She narrows her eyes a little when she looks at me and then walks to the next picture. “And this one?” she asks, looking at a painting of a woman and her child.
“Same.”
She nods, looking at them and then at me. “They are paintings of people you’ve hurt.”
I nod.
She sucks in a breath. “They’re beautiful.”
“They aren’t beautiful. They are paintings of pain and torture. Paintings that show me at my absolute worst.”
They’re my nightmares that haunt me every night when I sleep. I thought painting them would allow me some peace, but it didn’t. Nothing helps.
She turns back to me, and I see the tears in her eyes. She hates me for killing them. There are dozens of paintings in the room, and they aren’t even all the ones I’ve done, just the ones that haunt me the most. I’m the devil. She’s finally realizing that one of the men she has been fucking for weeks is the monster she was trying to avoid.
She can’t forgive me for what I’ve done.
I turn away because I can’t see her cry from the pain I’ve caused these people. I can’t deal with her hurting, too.
I feel her hand on my face, and I immediately push it away, not willing to face her right now.
She grabs my face and turns me toward her. “They’re beautiful.”
She leans her head against my forehead, and I feel her tears roll from her eyes to down my cheeks.
I suck in a breath, not liking being so close to someone. Not liking sharing someone’s pain like this. I hate it, but I also never want it to end.
Nina pulls away and looks up at me with tears still in her eyes.
“Kiss me.”
I narrow my eyes, not understanding why in the hell she would want to kiss me.
“No.”
“Kiss me.”
“No.”
Her eyes search mine, but she’ll find nothing but emptiness there.
“Kiss me.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Why? You don’t want me. You’re playing games. And, after seeing the pain I’ve caused, you can’t possibly want anything to do with me.”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter that I’m playing games. You’re playing games with me just as much as I am with you.”
“Exactly. You don’t want me! You just want me to fall for you so that I will save you.”
“And what’s so wrong with that? Maybe I don’t want to die or be held captive for seven years. Seven years is a long fucking time!”
“What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong is that I can’t fucking save you! Even if you succeed in making me fall in love with you, I can’t do a damn thing about it!”
She grabs my face and kisses me.
And, in that moment, my world stops. I’ve never wanted anything more. I also hate myself for wanting this and letting it happen. But, now that it is, I’ll never stop kissing her.
My hands wrap around her body while my tongue tangles with hers. She tastes just as sweet as I’ve always imagined. Her lips are just as luscious. And the moment is even better than I could have ever imagined.
I grab her legs as she wraps them around me, and I push her against a wall as I continue to kiss her. Her hands wrap tightly around my neck, not letting me stop the kiss even if I wanted to. I don’t. I don’t ever want this kiss to end.
I kiss her deeper and listen to the beautiful purr in her throat as I do. Her kisses are everything.
And, as much as I try to stop my mind from going there, I think they are everything to her, too. She might still love her husband. She might even have feelings for Matteo. But there is no denying that she doesn’t have feelings for me as well. No one kisses like this and doesn’t love the other person.
I don’t want to hear the words fall from her mouth, and I’ll kiss her all night long to keep her from saying something so stupid as that she’s fallen in love with a man like me. But there is no denying that is how she feels.
“I need you to fuck me,” Nina says with her lips still pressed against mine, not allowing me to stop the kiss even though she is speaking.
I’ve never agreed more with her. I can’t stop kissing her, and it’s clear she won’t stop kissing me either.
She’s already naked, and my cock is already hard against my jeans.
Nina grabs the button and swiftly undoes it with one hand without breaking our kiss. She pushes my pants down along with my underwear until my cock is free. I push inside her, knowing how wet she is.
“Arlo,” she growls against my lips as I enter her.
I’ll never get tired of hearing my name fall from her lips. I’ll never get tired of anything Nina does. I need to fuck her against every surface in my room. That way, when she’s gone, I’ll never be able to forget her.
She bites my lip hard as I thrust inside her, holding on to her ass with my hands. I love how she bites my lip before lapping up the blood. I love how she craves my body just as much as I want hers.
“Don’t stop,” she whimpers as I fuck her harder against the wall.
“Never,” I growl back.
I can’t stop. Even though I usually crave sex where I have all the power, I like tying women up. Making them suffer, causing them pain. Even though this is the complete opposite of that—it’s vanilla sex—it’s the best sex I’ve ever had.
“I…uh…” Nina says.
I won’t let her get words out. She can talk to me afterward. Right now, I want her body that is saying plenty to me.
I kiss her hard. I fuck her with everything I have, and I know it still won’t be enough. I’ll still crave her forever after tonight is over. I will never get enough.
What started out as her obsession with me has turned into my own ridiculous obsession with her. I don’t understand it or even how to make it stop, but I’m overcome by it.
Nina tugs at my lip again, and I get lost again as I fuck her. I watch her face change, and I know she will come soon and that I will come shortly afterward. I know we will both pass out and then do this again and again. But I know, soon, this will be over. This will end. And she’ll be gone. And what will be left of me?
“Do you paint anything other than your nightmares?” Nina asks, carefully choosing her words as she lies against my bare chest.
“Not usually, no.” I tense, not liking wherever this conversation is going. I don’t want her to cry again.
“Don’t get me wrong. I love them. I think they are very therapeutic for you, and it’s good to remember your darkest side, but you would be more balanced and maybe have a more positive outlook on the world if you also painted your dreams, too.”
I suck in a breath, trying to decide if I should show her or not. My heart races, and my body tenses.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, able to pick up on the changes in my body as easily as I’m able to pick up on how she is feeling.
“I want to show you something.”
She smiles and stands. I get up and take her hand, leading her toward my bedroom.
“You shouldn’t be nervous. I doubt there is anything you can show me that is worse than what I already know about you,” she teases.
I continue walking, ignoring her, which only makes her more nervous. I open the door, flip the switch, and lead her to the single painting in my bedroom.
She gasps when she sees it, immediately dropping my hand as she slowly walks over to the large mural.
I stand back, watching her, letting her take it in before I probe her to see what she thinks.
But she takes her damn time before saying anything, and I’m not a patient man.
“What do you think?”
“I think you should have been a painter instead of a debt collector, weapons dealer, and killer.”
I chuck
le. “I know art, and it isn’t that good. It’s only good because of who I painted.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Are you serious? It’s amazing. I would do anything to be able to paint as well as you do.”
I shake my head. “What do you think about what I painted though?”
She bites her lip as she looks at me. “I think you are as obsessed about me as I am about you.”
My eyes deepen when she says that about the naked painting that I painted of Nina.
“So, am I your nightmare or dream?” she asks.
“A little of both.”
She grins. “Good.”
She turns back to the painting as I walk behind her and wrap my arms around her body. I can feel it the second that everything changes. And I prepare for her to finally ask what she’s been wanting to ask since she first came here.
“How does the game end?”
I suck in a breath because I still don’t know what to tell her.
She turns her head to look up at me. “I’ve figured out what the game is—or at least, I think I know.”
I nod, encouraging her to continue to tell me what she knows while I figure out how to save her from it.
“There have been women before me. Women who have been tricked into owing a debt to your family. And, once she is here, you and your brother play a game with her life. A game where she has to choose a winner between the two of you.”
I shake my head, realizing how close she is but also how far. I don’t know when I decide to tell her the truth or if I even really decide, but it all starts spilling out, and I can’t stop.
“We don’t trick the women. They owe us a real debt. That’s how we chose the seven women.”
“Seven? Why seven?”
“We needed an odd number. So, it would guarantee a winner.”
“Between you and Matteo?”
I nod.
“What are you playing for?”
“The winner will take our father’s place. He gets to become head of the family and will decide to continue the traditions started years before him—”
“Or not,” Nina finishes for me.
I nod.
“How do you win?”
“Enrico chooses the winner each round. The rules aren’t entirely clear, which makes it more difficult to win each round. You’re number seven, but up until this point, Enrico has basically given equal rounds to Matteo and me to ensure that we go the full seven rounds.”
“He wants you to be more like him.”
I nod.
“And have you?”
I take a deep breath. “With some of the women, yes.”
She frowns. “But not me?”
I shrug. “I’ve tried to make it look like I have with you.”
She looks away and walks out of my arms. “Enrico has been watching us with cameras, hasn’t he?”
I nod. “He has cameras in certain areas of the house that he watches.”
“Not here?”
“No.”
“Matteo’s rooms?”
“No.”
She takes a deep breath. “I remember.”
“What?”
“I remember that night you saved me. It’s taken me seven years of pushing the memories away, trying to pretend like they weren’t real, but I remember.”
My eyes widen. I wish she didn’t remember that night.
“I remember not being able to control my body. My muscles going weak. I remember not staying conscious for it all though. I was awake as Erick and Clive took me from the bar when you weren’t able to get to me. I remember the fear on your face as they dragged me out of the bar. You were devastated.”
I take a deep breath, trying to keep the feelings I felt that night at bay.
“I thought you were devastated because you knew what they were capable of. But you were equally devastated because you knew that my life would be no better off if you saved me.”
I feel the rage returning, billowing up inside me, the same feeling that I felt that night.
“I remember them trying to rape me. I remember you and your family barging in, guns drawn. I remember Clive saying that I was theirs, not yours. That you couldn’t do anything to save me. It would ruin the deal you had with them.”
My nostrils flare, and my whole body is on fire, thinking about it.
“You started firing. All of you, even Enrico, came to save me. I remember Enrico getting shot. Matteo was stabbed. You were the only one who wasn’t hurt. You got me out of there but not before they made threats against your family, against Gia.”
I can’t relive any more of the night. “Stop.”
Her eyes widen.
We both just stand for a while, looking at each other, both breathing heavily, both reliving that night.
“I remember signing the contract. It was just you and me. I was terrified. Traumatized. I thought I had just seen your brother and father die. Your sister’s life threatened. I was almost raped. You gave me the choice to sign, and I signed without a second thought. That was the last thing I remember. Signing.”
“You passed out from exhaustion after that.”
She nods.
We stare at each other a moment longer.
“What I don’t understand is, why would you do that? Risk your whole family’s life for me? I know you needed a number seven, and I’m guessing you have saved other women from similar predicaments, only to be met with an equally bad situation. But why did you choose me? Why didn’t you just let them have me and rape me and, most likely, kill me?”
I don’t answer.
She takes a step toward me and looks me dead in the eye.
“Do you love me?”
I knew she would ask that question, too. She thinks I did it all because I love her. But she doesn’t understand that I am incapable of love. And, even if I was, she is better off with someone else. Someone good.
I didn’t do it because I loved her. I saved her because she’d saved me, and I couldn’t watch her die even if I was saving her then, only to watch her die now.
“What do you think?” I say, not answering her.
She takes a deep breath but doesn’t answer me.
“Why did you drink it? Why did you marry Heath? Why fuck my brother?”
She takes a step back, not answering me either.
But I answered all of her questions, except one. She needs to answer my questions now. I grab her arm and pull her back to me, firmly kissing her on the lips like it is the last time I’ll ever be able to.
She pulls away. “Because I was obsessed with you. I’ve always been obsessed when it comes to men. I like sex. I want the attention. Blame it on my deadbeat father who died a slow, torturous death after his drinking finally caught up with him.”
“Why did you marry Heath?”
“Because I loved him. I know you don’t understand it, but when I fall, I fall hard. I can’t always control it. Maybe part of it was the fear of being ripped away from my reality and needing something to keep me grounded. But, whatever it was, it felt a heck of a lot like love. It still does.”
I see the tears when she says it.
“Why did you fuck my brother?”
“Because I hated you. Because I wanted to get back at you. Because I thought I could make him love me if you wouldn’t.”
“And who do you want now? Who do you dream about at night? Who makes you obsessed?”
She sucks back her tears. “What do you think?”
I hate her answer. But it’s payback for my answer. And, honestly, I don’t think she can answer my question yet. We’ve played with her mind too much these past weeks. And I think she can be obsessed with more than one man at a time. I think, if she were to answer honestly, she would have to say all three of us: Heath, Matteo, and me for different reasons. But, if she could choose whom she wanted most, it would still be Heath. He’s the only one who hasn’t fucked her against her will. It will always be Heath.
“How does the game end?” she final
ly asks.
I know what she’s asking. Will she die? And it’s a question I can’t answer definitively. But, if I go off of what happened to the other women, then yes, she doesn’t stand a chance. Two killed themselves rather than deal with being someone’s slave. Three, my father killed. And one, I killed out of mercy. None of them even lasted a year even though they were all given the same length of time—seven years.
She sees the answer in my eyes, and her whole body slumps.
I walk over and wrap my arms around her, surprised that she will let me hold her when I just told her she will probably die and I won’t do anything to save her.
“You’re strong though. The strongest. You can survive.”
And then I kiss her because I need to feel her lips on me again. I don’t know how much time I have left with her. Another second. Another hour. Another day.
Or much longer. Weeks, months, years. But, now that I have one tiny bit of her heart, I will do anything to keep it for as long as I can.
23
Nina
I finally have the truth.
It’s what I’ve wanted this whole time. To know everything. Then, I would be on an equal playing field. But, now that I know everything, I’m afraid it was a mistake. I’m more terrified than I ever was before.
Arlo was terrified to tell me the truth. He was afraid it would break me. It would make me stop fighting. Or that he was effectively signing my death sentence by telling me all of the family secrets.
His fear made my fear worse.
But it’s easy to forget about all of that when I’m wrapped in his sexy arms, in his bed, and I haven’t dealt with any real pain in weeks. Both of the Carini brothers have done everything to take care of me these last few weeks. And my life has become pleasant, if not enjoyable. I’ve had plenty of food, plenty of company, and plenty of sex.
Enrico hasn’t returned, and I’ve been driven into a false sense of security. But last night changed all of that. I fucked them separately and got all of my questions answered. I can’t go back to just fucking them both. They won’t allow it. They will want me to choose one of them. And, if I don’t, what will happen?
I don’t know. But, whatever happens, going forward, a change is coming. And I’m afraid that change is never good.