THE KING
Copyright © 2021 Taylor Danae Colbert
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations in reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, numerous places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. This book may not be resold or given away in any manner.
Published: Taylor Danae Colbert 2021
www.taylordanaecolbert.com
Editing: Jenn Lockwood Editing
Cover Design: Taylor Danae Colbert
Contents
1. Dominic - Present
2. Scarlett - Present
3. Dominic - Senior Year
4. Dominic - Present
5. Scarlett - Senior Year
6. Scarlett - Present
7. Dominic - Senior Year
8. Dominic - Present
9. Scarlett - Senior Year
10. Scarlett - Present
11. Dominic - Senior Year
12. Dominic - Present
13. Scarlett - Senior Year
14. Scarlett - Present
15. Dominic - Senior Year
16. Dominic - Present
17. Scarlett - Present
18. Dominic - Present
19. Scarlett - Present
20. Dominic - Present
21. Scarlett - Present
22. Dominic - Present
23. Dominic - Present
24. Scarlett - Present
About the Author
Also by Taylor Danae Colbert
1
Dominic - Present
Bang. Bang. Bang.
At first, I think it’s just the hangover I’m nursing this morning after crushing way too many beers alone last night.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Dominic,” Carter calls from behind the big oak doors to my bedroom. “We were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago. Gio is already there.”
I roll over groggily and grab my phone. Fuck.
We’re supposed to be meeting with Fiona Landry today.
Of Landry Hotels.
The second biggest hotel chain in the world.
Fiona said they had “lots” of work for us.
And I’m fucking late.
I shuffle out of bed and stumble across my room, grabbing the slacks and white button-up I had set out last night before I got inebriated like a jackass. I yank the pants on and crash into my bathroom, squinting in the bright light that streams in through the window. I wet my hands and throw water onto my face, which is sprinkled in a lot more stubble than normal. I run my hands through my hair that looks a little like I was playing with an electrical outlet, until it looks somewhat presentable.
I brush my teeth, take a leak, and jog out my bedroom door, snagging my shoes on the way.
As I walk down both flights of stairs, I button my shirt up as Carter gives me the rundown.
“You’re late,” he says, and I shoot him a look.
“No shit,” I tell him. “What’s going on?”
“Gio said she’s not there yet. Car’s outside. He said he’d stall.”
I nod as I snatch my coat off the hook by the front door and race down the front steps.
Gio gets in the driver’s seat and starts pulling out as I lace my shoes up and check my hair in the mirror.
“Dude,” he says as he pulls out onto the street, “grab a mint from the dash. Your beer breath is stinking up the fucking car.”
I shoot him another look but do what he says.
“You know, you talk a lot more shit now that you’re second in command,” I tell him. He smiles as he pulls out onto the highway.
“Yeah, well, you’re a lot less organized than your sister was,” he says. I laugh, running a hand down my face.
“Never thought I’d have to fill her shoes,” I say. “Always thought it’d be the other way around.” Carter laughs and shrugs as we drive. My kid sister ran this outfit for six years, and based on what the guys say, she ran a tight ship. She loved her men, and she worked hard. She worked from the heart.
But she needs a different life. She needs this kind of shit to not be her life. And after everything she’s been through, she deserves it.
But her leaving means I’m back here, in Brooklyn, in the same palatial brownstone I grew up in. Back in my dad’s shoes, and in his shadow, trying to figure out how to run this business like he did, and in the meantime, trying to track down the son-of-a-bitch who killed him.
Finally, we pull into the parking garage under the Landry headquarters and get out. When we get inside, Giovanni, my kid brother, is waiting for us in the lobby, the scowl on his face even more prominent than usual.
“You’re––” he starts to say.
“Yeah, no shit,” I tell him as I breeze by, straightening out my coat as I walk to the front desk and ask for Fiona. The receptionist gives me a once-over, biting her bottom lip as she leans over the desk.
“Absolutely, Mr. Castiano,” she says, her eyes twinkling as she inspects me like a diamond. “I’ll call up to her office right now.”
I nod in her direction.
“Thanks,” I say, shoving my hands into my pockets and walking back toward Gio and Carter.
“Damn,” Carter says. “She looked like she wanted to eat you.”
I turn back to her slightly but decide against making eye contact.
If we’re being honest, I could probably use some…um, intimacy right now. Normally, there’s no shortage of beautiful women around me and in my bed, but since I got back to Brooklyn, since I heard her voice, since I saw her, I haven’t really been interested.
I don’t want anyone else looking at me, and I don’t want anyone else in my bed…unless it’s her.
And as I’ve known for more than a goddamn decade, I can’t have her.
So I pout, and I drink, and I pout, and I drink. And then, if I’m lucky, I won’t see her for another decade.
But that’s the thing about Scarlett Melucci––I’d rather be miserable thinking about her than be happy thinking about someone else.
It makes no goddamn sense.
We meet with Ms. Landry, and she gives us the rundown on a couple of things she needs around the city. The jobs should be easy enough––mostly collecting funds that are owed to the company––but she’s paying us a pretty penny for them. I like jobs like this. They keep my men fed, but they also keep them safe.
On our way out, the receptionist sees us coming and practically runs from behind the desk to grab the glass door and let us out.
She’s your typical sorority girl: blonde, huge tits, tiny waist. And before my run-in with Scarlett, I would have been all over it. But instead, I give her a curt nod and walk through the door.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Gio asks me as we get into the car.
“What?”
“Pretty sure she would have dropped to her knees right there in that lobby if you wanted her to,” Carter adds as he turns the key in the ignition.
“Not interested,” I say, pulling my seatbelt down and looking out the window, waiting for him to pull out of the garage.
“Jesus. Is this about Scarlett?” Gio grumbles from the backseat.
“Shut up, Giovanni,” I say.
“What?” Carter asks, looking from the road, to me, back to the road. “Still? Dude, come on. Before she called you that night, when was the last time she talked to you?”
I swallow as I stare out the window.
“Fourteen years,” I mumble.
“Fourteen years,” Gio repeats. “Dominic. You. Can’t. Have. Her. Let it go.”
I sigh.
“Tha
nks, Gio. Always so supportive,” I say with an eye roll.
“He’s right, though, man,” Carter says, his tone much softer and more patient than my asshole brother’s. “You know it can’t happen. You’ve been okay the last fourteen years without her, right?”
No.
“Yeah,” I say.
Carter nods.
“Right. Gio, let’s get him out tonight. Celebrate you guys being back in town. Getting the Landry deal. To new beginnings.”
Gio nods in the backseat.
I throw my head back against the leather.
“Nah,” I say.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to make that sound like it was optional, ‘cause it’s not,” Carter says.
“Ugh,” I mumble as I close my eyes and await my fate.
After sulking the rest of the day, Carter and Gio managed to get me out of the house, albeit kicking and screaming. We get to Joel’s, this upscale place in the center of Brooklyn, and I sigh as I follow them inside, making a beeline for the bar as soon as we’re inside. It takes Carter no time before he’s found a petite brunette to spin around the floor with, and Gio plops next to me and begins throwing back beers.
I look at him, that scowl on his face that’s been there since he was a teen, and I chuckle.
“What?” he says, one of his thick black eyebrows shooting up.
Gio got my dad’s classic Sicilian good looks. The dark hair, dark eyes, tan skin year-round. At six-four, he’s menacing, too, the anger behind his dark eyes never seeming to leave. My sister and I look more like Mom’s side––only half Italian. Blondish-brownish hair, light eyes, pastier skin.
But right now, with matching misery, I think Gio and I probably look more alike than normal.
“Just thinking what a pair we make,” I say, tipping the beer back to my lips. “Bunch of pouty little bitches.”
Gio looks at me again, finishing off his beer and slamming the bottle down on the bar. He stands up and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Some brotherly advice…leave the pouting to me,” he says. “It’s not really your style.”
Then he walks through the crowd and disappears somewhere toward the back of the bar.
I take another sip then look around the bar.
There are couples dancing up on each other, some more flirty, some more serious, like it’s the prelude to what’s to come later. I watch as a group of young women flirts with the bartender. I watch as the bouncer argues with someone at the door.
And then my blood freezes in my veins, and my heart skips a beat. Every muscle in my body tenses up when I see her in the center of the floor, eyes closed, shaking her ass like she’s in a music video. She’s got her hands in her hair, and he’s got his hands around her waist.
Some big, tall beefhead with a tattoo crawling up out of the collar of his shirt and onto his neck. His hair is slicked up into spikes like it’s the goddamn nineties, and he looks like he’s having way too good of a time pressing up against her.
Scarlett whips around in his arms, throwing one arm over his shoulder and keeping the other in her long blonde hair, feeling the music and not caring who’s watching. I see some of her friends sprinkled in the crowd, and I feel a little bit better. She probably came with them and not with this asshole.
I look away, trying to find someone, something else to focus on. But my eyes betray me, drifting back to her like magnets. And then I see his hand slide down her bare back, and I can’t breathe. And when his hand cups her ass, squeezing a handful, I can’t stand it anymore. I jump off my stool and start charging the dance floor, shimmying through people and shoving my way through the crowd until I’m next to them.
“Hey, man,” I say, and they both turn to me. Scarlett’s eyes open wide as her hand slides off his shoulder, but I notice his hands stay on her.
“Yeah?” Beefhead answers.
“Mind if I have a dance?”
Beefhead gives me a sarcastic smile, and I want to punch him in his fucking face.
“I don’t think so, bro,” he says. “Kindly move along.”
With that, he presses his hand to my shoulder, shoving me ever so lightly away. I see the fear in Scarlett’s eyes as she looks at me, begging me not to do what I’m about to do.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I growl over the music. He tugs her closer to him then lifts his hand up toward me.
“What was that?” he asks, his hand inches from my shoulder.
“You don’t want to do that,” I tell him. But Beefhead doesn’t listen. As soon as his hand touches my shoulder, I slug him in the face, knocking him to the floor. Instantly, he’s back on his feet, landing a punch to my cheek before we’re in an all-out brawl.
“Dominic, stop!” I hear her scream, but I can’t help it.
Gio and Carter find us, stepping in to pull us apart. But I’m a wild animal. This fucking asshole, dancing up on the girl I want but can never have, touching her body like it’s putty instead of the fucking treasure that it is.
Gio drags the poor bastard from the floor to safety while Carter sets me on my feet as I struggle to break free of his grasp. But just as I’m about to lunge at him again, I feel her hands on my chest.
She looks up at me, pain and anger behind her eyes.
“Dominic!” she shrieks. “Stop.” She looks at Carter. “Help me get him outside.”
Carter grabs my arm and follows her through the crowd and out the side door into the alley. He throws me out the door and looks at me.
“Don’t come back in this bar until you get a fucking grip,” he says. I make a mental note to dock his pay for speaking to his boss that way—even if he is right.
Then he nods at Scarlett. “Scar.”
“Carter.”
He goes back inside and closes the door, and Scarlett and I stand on opposite sides of the alley, staring at each other. I dab at the blood trickling from the side of my face with my hand and catch my breath. After a moment, she sighs and steps toward me. She reaches into her purse and pulls something out, tearing it open and dropping the wrapper back in her purse.
“What are you doing?” I ask as she takes another step toward me.
“Shh.”
“Is that...is that a tampon?”
“Do you want to bleed all over the place—or not?” she says. I hold my hands up in the air as she steps toward me, pushing the tampon out of the little plastic thing it comes in and holding it against my cheek.
As soon as her skin touches mine, it’s like I’ve been shocked. Our eyes lock instantly, and I feel my breathing shallow in my chest. After a few moments, she steps back, her hand dropping from my face.
She hands me the tampon by the string, and I take it, not knowing what the fuck to do with it.
“What the fuck was that, Dom?” she finally asks, bringing her hand to her forehead. I drop my head.
“I’m sorry,” I grumble under my breath.
“What was that?”
I draw in a long breath, slowly lifting my eyes to her again.
“I saw him dancing up on you, touching you, and I just couldn’t...I can’t––”
“Jesus, Dominic,” she says, spinning around and covering her face with her hands. “It’s been fourteen years. I called you a few months ago because I thought I could help you and your family out. That’s all it was. I am not yours. You don’t get to just bitch-slap any guy who I’m with because you don’t like it when he grabs my ass. I am not yours.”
But as she says it, I can’t tell if she’s trying to convince herself or me. I narrow my eyes on her as I take a step forward. I wait for her to move back, but she doesn’t. Instead, she narrows her eyes on me.
“Dominic,” she warns as I get closer until we’re only an inch or so apart. “This still can’t happen. Nothing has changed.”
I take one more step so that her chin is to my chest.
“Nothing can happen,” she whispers, but it’s more of a surrender as I lean down and tilt her chin up toward me.
“Nothing at all,” I whisper back, then I cover her lips with mine. I pull her into me, my arms sliding around her tiny body, lifting her off the ground and pressing her up against the brick of the building next to us.
She wraps her legs around my waist, her tongue invading my mouth as she slides her fingers through my hair. I moan against her lips as I savor her familiar taste, her scent surrounding me. I slide my hand up her thigh until it’s under her dress, and I feel my dick tightening as it points toward her.
My fingers trail up the inside of her leg as they feel for her panties, and my eyes spring open when I realize she’s not wearing any.
She smiles this devious grin against my lips, knowing exactly what she’s done to me.
“Jesus Christ, Melucci,” I whisper, and a devilish giggle escapes her lips. Just as my finger slides toward her center, I hear my name.
“Dominic!” Gio calls. “Stop fucking around and get out here. The bouncer’s looking for you, and he’s not happy. We gotta go.”
She gasps and looks at me, and I feel her grip around my neck loosen. She slides off of me, straightening out her dress and running her fingers through her hair.
“Fuck,” she whispers, running her hand down her face. “That shouldn’t have happened.” She pulls her purse back up on her shoulder and looks up at me.
“Scarlett,” I say, but she turns on her heel and walks back toward the bar. “Scarlett,” I say again. She pauses before she pulls the door open.
“Nothing has changed, Dominic,” she whispers before disappearing inside.
2
Scarlett - Present
“What the fuck was that?” Isabel asks as I meet them back at the bar. She pauses, and she looks me up and down. “Did you just...did you just fuck him out there?”
The King Page 1