The Rebel: A Bad Boy Romance

by Aria Ford

  I fell… The thought floated up from my depths and caused the side of my head to throb. Memories flickered in my mind’s eye- of Luciano leaving me in this room. Of feeling frustrated at what I had done to him in the gym shower.

  Of slipping on shampoo and hitting my head when I hit the floor.

  Carefully cracking open one eye, I groaned softly when my headache flared painfully. My palms fought for purchase, trembling and sweaty as my fingertips probed blindly. Slowly pushing myself on weak arms, I ground my teeth together. Panting harsh, little gasps, my dry throat burned from my lungs futile attempts to fill themselves.

  “Stop trying to move, Aya.” The deep rumblings were like an earthquake against my hands. Goosebumps rose up my arms, and I blinked hard before the dark blotches in my vision began to sharpen. Knuckles topped in coarse, thick hairs caressed my cheek, and my breath hitched when the voice and words entered my scope of comprehension.

  “L- Lucian-n-o…” Slurring slightly, I took a deep, shuddering breath while his touch soothed my frayed nerves. “I f- fell… what-t…?”

  Underneath my palms Luciano’s hard muscles flexed, his own cupping my cheek.

  “I know. You’re okay, Aya. Just lay back down, now.” His voice was so smooth, so strong, that my arms collapsed. Gentle hands kept my face from slamming into him, and a groan slipped from my lips. Sinking into his tense bulk, I reveled in the smell of him, allowing it to envelope me completely.

  Hours slipped by in total silence, total stillness, as my headache slowly lessened. My mind was blank, thinking of nothing but taking my next breath and the pump of my heart. All the while Luciano’s fingertip stroked my jaw, effortlessly moving back and forth in a hypnotizing sway. Compared to his touch the large shirt I wore was coarse and itchy, setting my skin on fire where it’d ridden up under my breasts.

  “... You need to eat something.” Jolting me from my torpid state, Luciano’s gruff words yanked me back into consciousness. Big hands wrapped around my shoulders, and he pushed me up to throw his legs over the side of the bed. “Let’s go.”

  The familiar carpet between my toes was comforting, and I nibbled on my bottom lip. Luciano watched me with an intensity that bordered on glaring, his hands clenched into tight fists at his side. My knees buckled under my own weight, and I held my arms out before me for balance.

  “I’ll carry you.” Hot fingers scorched my hips, and I gasped as he hauled me off the ground. Pulling me to his chest, he held me to his side like one would a toddler. Locking my thighs against his abdominal muscles and back, my legs quivered when he took a step. His entire body rippled with pure power, and tears welled in my eyes at the sense of security that engulfed me.

  “Thank you.” Whispering into the lowly lit hallway, my lips trembled as Luciano tensed against me. My forehead touched his shoulder, the muscles stiff and skin taut.

  “... I didn’t go through this much fucking trouble just so you could die now.” Grumbling lowly, Luciano grunted before jostling his way down the stairs with heavy, thumping steps. This was probably as close to a ‘you’re welcome’ as he’d ever come, and I wasn’t going to push. Two floors past by quickly, and he tightened his arm around my waist before shouldering his way through a thick door frame.

  Luciano didn’t set me down, or even flick on a light, as he strode into the kitchen. Stainless steel glinted in the gray gloom; it was that short time between the moon’s descent and the sun’s rise. Streams of bright, yellow light assaulted my peripheral vision when he flung open the refrigerator, but almost as quickly as it came it was gone.

  My heart sped up its rhythm when Luciano dropped hard into a chair, shoving me over to straddle his lap. Face to face, my cheeks flooded with heat as his breath flowed down my skin. Popping open the plastic container, he leaned back and spread his legs wide. The smell of fried chicken blossomed, and my mouth watered while my fingers reached to pluck one out.

  Taking a small bite, I bit back a soft groan as flavor erupted against my tongue. The bread crumb coating didn’t slide off or pop up, and I swallowed my piece before Luciano spoke up.

  “You always eat such tiny bites, Aya.” His voice was like thunder crackling over the quiet kitchen. My eyes snapped to his face, the intensity blazing from his orbs tightening my throat. There was no expression on his face, but for once his gaze didn’t seem pitch black. The irises were dotted with sparkles, the rings twinkling like a moonless night. They were so cold and haunting. Forcing my gaze away, I took a second bite before I felt the weight of his attention leave me.

  “... What’s going to happen to me now?” My question was a mere murmur, and I licked my lips absently as I pulled a cold, limp piece of broccoli out of the container. Luciano didn’t move, his eyes didn’t land on me, and I glanced up to find him staring at the ceiling. In the dark he looked like he belonged; the shadows welcoming him into their folds.

  “Now that Georgio’s gone you can leave your room. I’ll be leaving you here while I go with Sylvi to check some of his establishments. We still don’t know why Trevor wanted you or who else was involved with him besides the Russians.” The blood drained from my face, and my heart pounded against my ribs at Luciano’s grumble. Slowly he lifted his head, as if he felt the change, and his expression twisted with distaste. “Unless you want to go to a brothel and three drug warehouses.”

  Shaking my head hastily, I had trouble swallowing my bites. Luciano only grunted, letting his head rest against the back of the chair once again.

  When I finished eating Luciano left the half empty container on the counter, his hands instead gripping my outer thighs tightly. A gasp flew from my lips as he pushed himself to stand, and I flung my arms around his neck without thinking. The heat of him burned through what little clothes I wore, and after a moment I rested my cheek on his shoulder.

  “Go back to sleep. You need it, Aya.” Squeezing through the doorway, Luciano sauntered straight to my bed to set me down. He watched through narrow pupils as I curled up, covering myself with the thick comforter. Beneath the heavy fabric the chill of my room seeped through, nipping at my toes and raising the fine hairs on my back. Goosebumps formed on my skin, and I tightened the ball I’d made myself before closing my eyes.

  Deep, even breaths flowed up my nose, and my body was heavy from food and pure exhaustion. I silently counted the seconds, waiting for Luciano’s heavy footfall to bring him away from my bedside.

  Whatever grogginess that nibbled at the edge of my consciousness vanished when his breath flowed across my cheek. His lips brushed so softly, so hesitantly, along my skin that I almost didn’t notice. A thin coating of saliva marked his kiss as he pulled back, and a prickling sensation built up at my toes.

  “Sonno, adesso. Ritornerò.” Leaving me alone, Luciano shut the door quietly behind him before my brain puttered into action. My eyelids popped open, pupils blowing up while my throat closed. Reaching with a trembling hand, I touched the spot his lips had just been. The skin was hot, damp, and I shuddered as three little words circled my mind relentlessly.

  Luciano kissed me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  LUCIANO

  Sprawled lazily in a lawn chair, I flung my arm over my eyes to keep out the sun my skin greedily soaked up. The days were longer and the nights shorter now that Georgio was gone; I could sleep at night without having to drive half an hour to escape the screams. Lounging in the heat that baked Sylvi’s two acre back yard, I tapped my foot absently to the Italian music that seeped from the windows.

  Edith loved listening to music while she prepped and cooked, but it’d been scarce while the big bad Boss was around. A grimace dragged down my lips at the thought that she’d be scared of Georgio; she was a sweet woman.

  “Luciano, there you are…” Grunting at Sylvi’s call, I didn’t lift my arm even as shuffling sounded in my ears. “I need your help picking out a new hostess. Tyler’s busy updating the security system and-”

  “No.” Cutting my brother off, I took a deep bre
ath of dry air before opening my mouth again. “Go whore shopping by yourself, Sylvi. Or just don’t go at all. It’s bad manners to tell a cagna you’ll set her free and set her up without clarifying that not only will you fuck her but you’ll torture her, too.”

  A sharp bark of laughter followed my words into the windless atmosphere, and Sylvi dropped onto the chair next to mine with a clatter.

  “You honestly expect me to believe you give any fucks at all about them, Luciano? I get it- you don’t want to put your hands on a woman that doesn’t want it. I really get that. But these whores signed up for this. Every one of them knew the risk when they started working.”

  My lip curled into a snarl at Sylvi’s assessment, and I uncovered my eyes to loll my head to the side. Looking for a new hostess always gave him an excited air about him, and this time was no different. It was inconceivable to me how someone could act like a kid in a candy store when it came to hurting women.

  Then again, he’s right. They signed up for this.

  “You’re a fucking disgrace, Sylvi.” Sylvi’s face instantly broke into a grin, and I gnashed my teeth as I pushed myself up. Resigning myself to the fact that he was right, I grabbed my discarded shirt from the back of my lounge. I really didn’t care about the girls and who did what to them; I just wasn’t going to be a part of it. They knew the odds of tricking someone violent, and the men that frequented the lesser quality places were just that. Violent, drunk, loud.

  But knowing that didn’t spark any humanity in my chest.

  “Awesome. I’ve been worried about you, Brother. You spend too much time with that girl.” Scowling at Sylvi, I pulled my shirt over my head to find his grin gone and expression serious. “I hope for your sake she doesn’t develop Stockholm Syndrome or something. You should hand her over to Doctor Bethel for a while. If she thinks you love her, need her, and she lets you fuck her while she’s not in her right state of mind…”

  Letting the insinuation hang in the air, Sylvi watched me with intent brown eyes as a harsh shiver of disgust slid down my spine. For a moment I was silent, my mind running over every interaction Aya and I had had. At first, she was scared. Scared enough to piss in my car.

  She still flinches and whimpers whenever I grab her. She wouldn’t talk to anyone else; God only knew how fucking hard Sarah had tried. She didn’t leave her room unless I told her to.

  None of that means she’s delusional.

  Shaking my head hard, I pushed past Sylvi and into the house on stiff legs.

  “I didn’t ask for your input, Sylvi, and I don’t fucking want it. I’m not going to fuck her. Since you’re only thinking with your dick right now, I’ll drive. As much as I want to tell the coroner to shove your cock up your ass, I’d rather not deal with Georgio or whatever piss brain he sends to replace you.” Snatching my keys from the door hook, I clenched the jagged metal in my fist.

  Pulling out of the driveway, I rolled down the windows before grabbing my pack of cigarettes. Driving took a back burner, my thoughts instead going to Aya. Every time I wrapped my fingers around her slender neck or grabbed her arm, she always reacted the same way- fearfully. The attack was quick, harsh, and sometimes overwhelmed her, but it always seeped away in mere seconds.

  She was so obedient, and a tickle in the back of my head told me it wasn’t because I could kill her so easily. Anymore, at least.

  “-ano- Luciano. Man-” Glancing over, I ignored Sylvi’s dirty look to take a deep drag of my cigarette. “I asked you if the girl knows about the money.”

  “I didn’t tell her.” Smoke slithered out of my mouth and nose as I spoke, and I adjusted my grip on the wheel. Money- what the fuck would Aya need $10 million for? Such an amount was fucking absurd for one girl with no family, no friends, and no plans for the future.

  “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t know about it. Tyler said it’s being held en trust by the partner at the law firm. Take her this week.” My blood simmered at the command, but I beat back the itching of my fists to inhale more toxins. “It’s not a lot of money, but è meglio di niente. Especially if she decides she doesn’t want to be an ‘independent woman that don’t need no man’.”

  Snickering at his own stupidity, Sylvi reached to turn on the radio, and I hung my elbow out the window. My brain churned, my heart tightening in my chest and my legs stiffening.

  What if Aya decided to go? Sucking on the butt of my cigarette, my jaw ticked at the thought. Over my dead fucking body.

  The brothel I drove to was part of Sylvi’s extensive collection of premier hotels. Stretching 19 stories high, it catered primarily to businessmen during their travels. Three restaurants provided room service, there was a full time staff, and every single piece of decor was business casual.

  I fucking hated this particular hotel from the moment Sylvi’s architect came to him with the plans. There was too much tight, and not enough slack. People used the indoor pool so little it’d been taken out completely and replaced with hot tubs.

  Stalking through the wide, motion activated, glass doors, I didn’t bother to hide my scowl. The girl that was tasked with greeting each and every guest happily and excitedly stared at me with her mouth open. Her green vest accentuated her bust, but normal employees weren’t part of the giant machine Sylvi operated. Giant brown eyes took me in, her face growing paler by the second.

  “Luciano!” Before me the girl jumped, her eyelids brimming with tears from ignoring the need to blink for so long. Turning my gaze to the woman that spoke, I pursed my lips together as she sauntered from the front desk. Her long, spindly fingers wrapped around the younger woman, giving her a reassuring pat.

  Fake gray eyes flickered over my face before Arin released her employee, freeing her to scurry away in black pants that were much too form fitting.

  “I was hoping you would be by. Where’s Sylvi-”

  “I’m right here, my dear Arin. I was having too much fun watching Luciano scare that woman just by standing there.” Gracefully stepping out of the shadows, Sylvi chuckled lowly as a smile slipped onto Arin’s aged face. She was in her early 40s and had once been a working girl herself. By the time he’d taken over, she was ready to retire. Sylvi wasn’t oblivious to her talents outside of the bedroom, so he put her to work seven years ago. Now she had a husband, three children, and a house with a white picket fence.

  Not to mention all of it was legitimate.

  “You know that’s bad for morale, boy. Sophia is a very soft soul- too soft to be toyed with like that. Now, how about we converse in your suite?” Glancing around the lobby as Sylvi nodded, my eyes narrowed on the eyes that scanned me from head to toe. Differentiating those who were in the Italian-made machine from those who weren’t was easy.

  This particular hotel was a front for metric-fuck-tonnes of drugs, and despite their nice suits and well manners drug runners were still slimy.

  The elevator ride was quiet; Arin was a woman of few words when others could be around to hear. Leaning against the platinum plated walls, I narrowed my gaze on Sylvi’s as he tapped his fingers absently against his suit pants. His earlier excitement about whore shopping was gone, replaced instead with a thoughtfulness that never boded well for anyone.

  “I was surprised to learn Georgio left so quickly, Sylvi. He spent nearly a month and a half here when Luccia took over.” Entering the master suite on the 19th floor, Arin spoke with a flippant curiosity only she could get away with. Georgio had shipped us to America the day we turned 18, and ever since then the older woman has been there. She was smart; the past 15 years hadn’t dulled her at all. Her children were lucky to have a mom that could change her own life so drastically.

  Mine certainly couldn’t, and the thought left a bitter taste on my tongue as I followed Sylvi into the open living room.

  “That was seven years ago, Arin. Times have changed. Not to mention I worked hard to get this far, and Georgio recognizes that.” Flat, Sylvi dropped onto a dark brown, suede sectional couch to cross his legs and throw his
arm over the back. “Either that, or he thinks he knows me better because we bonded in a way that he and Luccia never could.”

  “Ah, yes- the real reason you’re here. I hope you have an idea of what you want so I don’t spend all day going through girls like last time. From what I heard you weren’t even too fond of Lilli.” Settling onto the other end of the couch, beyond the curve, I sunk in my seat and spread my legs. Arin shook her head, but she didn’t need an answer; Sylvi didn’t give her one. There was nothing to say, after all.

  Sylvi knew Georgio would be visiting at some point, so he picked the girls he didn’t like for his mentor.

  “Even so! I promise not to keep you from your little children tonight, Arin. Now, let’s get on with it. I’ve got an itch I need scratched.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  AYA

  My thumping down the stairs was quiet compared to Luciano’s, and a yawn pulled my jaw apart. A few steps, down the giant brute of a man was tense; there wasn’t a time I could remember when he wasn’t. Reaching to touch his hard shoulder, I sucked in air through my teeth as rigid, defined muscle shifted under my fingertips. Glancing back, his eyes narrowed, his lip twitched in the beginnings of a grimace before he shrugged off my hand.