by J. L. Beck
This woman messed with my head, got under my skin, and it’s time that I turn the tables on her.
Holding the tray in one hand, I unlock the door with the other, then push the door open with my shoulder. Elena looks just as pitiful now as when I left her a few hours ago. I didn’t want to leave, wanted to stay, and hold her in my arms, but that would’ve been counterproductive.
I needed her to stew in her emotions, let her anger simmer a little, and give myself a chance to cool off because I really, really wanted to fuck her and knew if I didn’t leave, I would’ve done just that.
Briefly, she glances up at me before turning her head away.
I sit down on the side of the bed and set the tray down between us. Breaking off a piece of blueberry waffle, I hold it out in front of her face.
“Time to eat.”
“Untie me then,” she says while still looking away.
“No, I’m feeding you.”
“I’m not hungry, then.”
“I’m not untying you any time soon. You will let me feed you, or you will not eat at all.” I swear she is pushing every one of my buttons just to see if I’ll snap again.
She shakes her head but still doesn’t look at me directly. “You are sick, you know that, right? That there is something seriously wrong with you?”
“There is something wrong with all of us. Now, are you going to eat, or do you need some more time to calm down?”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
Sighing, I shake my head and get out the key to uncuff her.
When her hands are free, she rubs at her red wrists and scurries off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. She slams the door shut behind her like an angry teenager, and I can’t help but smile at the notion.
She returns a few minutes later, and I have to look away because she’s naked, and it’s doing shit to my head again. I’ve reached my limit today, and all we’re doing now is toeing the line. If I snap again, I’ll take her like an animal.
“Can I at least put some clothes on?”
“Suit yourself,” I motion to the closet.
“I would choose something comfortable if I was you. You’ll be tied up to the bed for a while,” I call after her.
“Of course, I will,” she mocks under her breath while stomping through the room.
She returns dressed in a pair of yoga pants and an oversized shirt that falls off one shoulder. I can still see her pebbled nipples pressing against the fabric, but at least her pussy is covered now.
“Ready to eat?” I ask, cuffing her back to the bed.
Now that I’m closer, I can see that her eyes are red, the skin around them puffy, letting me know she hasn’t stopped crying. I try to ignore the emotion that rises up in me, seeing her like that. She betrayed me, so why is she crying? Because she got caught?
I know what I did shocked her because it shocked me too, but I didn’t hurt her. I didn’t take more than she could give me, and she never asked me to stop. She was afraid, hesitant, but even as angry as she was, she still wanted it, wanted me to take it from her. The reality of that tells me some part of her trusts me, and I hold onto that fact with both hands.
“I can feed myself,” she hisses like a kitten.
“I know you can, but you won’t. I told you, I’m feeding you, or you’ll get no food at all.”
Determination shines in her eyes. “I’d rather starve than let you feed me.”
Two can play this game, the question is, how long can she keep it up?
“Then that’s what it’s going to be.” I smile bitterly, hating that it’s come to this.
Grabbing the tray, I exit the bedroom, not even giving her a second glance. In the hall, I just stand there, staring at the wooden door. I’m tempted to go back inside the room and shove the food down her throat, but she’s made her choice, wanting to do things the hard way. So, we’ll do it her way.
Walking back downstairs, I enter the kitchen and place the tray on the island. Marie doesn’t look up from whatever she is preparing, but I can see her watching me out of the corner of her eye. I can’t imagine what she thinks I’m doing to Elena. Beating her? Raping her? She’ll never ask, no matter how curious or concerned because she’s far too afraid of what might happen if she does. Still, her accusing eyes make me want to lash out at her.
With everything I discovered last night before taking Lev out, and then the shit with Elena, I haven’t had a moment to breathe or think. If I hadn’t returned home when I did, who knows what would have happened? Who would have their hands on her? I would have found her regardless, the tracking device I had implanted in her ring would’ve made it possible, but what if I had been too slow? What if she took the ring off?
The thought of someone else touching her, or hurting her, makes me want to pull my gun and start shooting people. Paint the world red with my enemies’ blood. They’re all coming for me now. Romero made a colossal mistake putting a bounty on my head because if someone hurts me, they’ll hurt Elena too.
I go back upstairs and straight into my office. I haven’t slept all night, but there is no way I’ll be heading to bed anytime soon.
Closing the door, I walk over to the cellarette, grab a crystal glass, and a bottle of whiskey, and pour myself a healthy amount.
Sinking down into the leather chair behind my desk, I stare down into the amber liquid. Did I make a mistake killing Lev? His family will definitely seek me out to question me, maybe even try and attack me for killing their son. I very rarely doubt myself, but I find it happening now.
I can’t imagine not killing the fucker, especially after he touched Elena, but had I put myself out there for no reason, showed my one and only weakness. I’m not sure why I’m wasting so much time thinking about her feelings and wants. None of it matters, not really, or it shouldn’t. Shaking the feelings away doesn’t work. I’m wrapped up in the dark-haired beauty as much as she’s wrapped up in me.
I don’t want her to hate our marriage, but I can’t have her running away either. I’ll do anything to keep her safe and protected, especially from her father, who simply wants to sell her to the next ruthless criminal. Even if it makes Elena hate me, I know I’ll still go through with killing her father. He killed my mother. A life for a life is a worthy payment if you ask me.
I can’t believe Romero had Elena convinced that I was going to kill her. Part of me understands her need to run, to protect herself. It’s courageous and makes her look strong rather than weak, but it’s frustrating as hell when there are worse people out there waiting to take her from me.
Sipping my whiskey, I let it warm me from the inside out while contemplating my next move with Elena. I need to tell her that the wedding has been moved up, not that it will matter much to her, I’m sure.
I’m not supposed to fucking care if she hates me or not, but I do. I want her to want me, to crave me, and now for reasons other than revenge. That part changed… or maybe it was always there, just hiding under the surface, hiding under a lie.
Part of her already wants me, but what happened today set us back. Briefly, I wonder what my father would think? What he would expect of me? He loved my mother so much, and while he was a ruthless man, who many feared, he had a very soft spot for my mother.
He taught me compassion and love, but also to never let the enemy win, and Elena by association is the enemy.
A knock sounds against the door, and I turn in my chair. “Come in,” I tell whoever is on the other side, knowing it’s one of my men.
The door opens, and Lucca walks into the room. It’s hard to believe he is so young with the determination, skills, and way he carries himself. If his father was still alive, I believe he’d be tremendously proud.
“We’ve doubled up on security, and are monitoring the situation with Romero, sir. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
“Very well,” I say, taking another swig of whiskey.
“A little early to be drinking, don’t you think, boss?” He pokes fun
, and I turn my steel gaze to him once more.
“It’s been a rough morning,” I tell him, surprising myself by sharing this bit with him.
“It’s going to be hard to see you as a married man.”
I look at my ring finger, knowing that soon there will be a band resting there. My father took his vows seriously, and I think he would expect the same from me.
“It will be different, yes, but nothing will change in terms of how I’m running this organization. I’ll still be the same asshole I am now. Maybe even worse.”
“Yeah? I didn’t expect that to change.” Lucca snickers.
“Why? Are you worried?”
Lucca shakes his head. “No, you’ve always been good to my family, and are an honest man who stands by his word. The other men have just wondered if it will change you. Killing Lev might start a war when his family finds out it was us.”
“Nothing has changed, and nothing will change. If or when Lev’s family decides to attack, we will be ready. I’m the capo, and I say what goes, now get out of here,” I growl, the frustration mounting. The pressure on my shoulders is immense, and I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Even if I wasn’t, I can’t let Elena go.
I’ve already had a taste of her, and now I want everything, every single inch.
Lunch ends the same way breakfast did, with Elena being stubborn. She refuses to eat and gives me a dirty look, sneering at me like I kicked her dog. I’m tempted to tell her she looks sexy as fuck even angry, but I get the feeling that would make matters worse.
When dinner time arrives, I stroll into the bedroom with the tray, determined to make her eat this time. Even if I have to shove the food down her throat, she is going to eat. As soon as I walk in, her emerald eyes narrow.
“You’re not hurting anyone but yourself by refusing to eat.”
“I’m hurting you,” she says softly with a smile on her lips.
I grip the tray a little tighter, envisioning it as her throat. She’s pushing all my fucking buttons, and soon I won’t be responsible for what happens.
“No, you aren’t. Do you have to use the restroom?” I ask, setting the tray down at the end of the bed.
She nods her head, and I retrieve the key from my pocket. I uncuff one hand and then the other. Taking a step back, I give her room to walk by, but like always, she shocks the hell out of me when she shoves off the bed and comes right for me like a feral animal. Lifting my hands, I try and protect myself and subdue her, but she’s like a bucking bronco.
“Why would you leave me here so you could screw someone else?” she snarls.
What the hell is she talking about?
I don’t even get to ask because she’s attacking again. Her tiny hands might not have much strength behind them, but her slaps sting, and when her nails catch me on my neck, digging into the skin, I hiss. My hands circle both her wrists, and I press them against her chest.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I growl right into her face, feeling the warm blood on my skin. My cock is so hard it presses against the zipper of my pants, wanting to be unleashed. Her violence only makes me want her more.
Horror fills her eyes as she gazes up at my neck.
Yes, you did that, my queen.
“The other night… you left, were gone all night. You didn’t want me, so you went somewhere else.”
A light bulb goes off in my head. I can’t stop my lips from tipping up at the sides. “Jealousy looks very good on you, and I must say, if it’s always going to make you act this way, I may make you jealous more often.”
“I’m not jealous,” she says angrily, struggling against me.
I laugh in her face. “You are, and that’s okay. I like it. It turns me on, makes me want to strip you down and taste you all over.”
The fire in her eyes calls to me. “As if I’d let you do that, knowing you were with someone else.”
Curling my own lip, I tug her to my chest and grind my groin against her. “If you must know, I wasn’t with anyone else. I was taking care of business. No one’s pussy has my attention like yours, sweet Elena.” I bite her earlobe hard, and pleasure fills my chest when she lets out a soft whimper.
“You weren’t with someone else?” she whispers, almost as if she doesn’t believe it. I knew when I left that she felt rejected, but I had to leave and get out of the room and away from her before I did something I couldn’t finish.
“No. I wasn’t. I turned down sex because I had work that needed to be done, and it couldn’t wait. I had to force myself to leave this room, so I didn’t fuck you straight through the mattress.”
I release her wrists when I see her features soften. She really thought I left to have sex with someone else. Taking a step back, she gives me one more look, something close to guilt flashing in her eyes. Before I can latch onto that look, she’s rushing into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.
Sighing, I walk over to the bed and sit. Bringing my hand to my neck, I trace the raised marks with a finger and smile. Great, just when the last scratches had healed up.
Fierce, determined, and so fucking beautiful. Pulling my hand away, I see the small smear of blood on my fingers.
A few moments later, Elena returns to the bed, crawling up onto it, settling into her usual spot. I feel her gaze on my neck as I cuff her wrists back into place. She hasn’t given up, it’s obvious, but she’s done fighting for now.
“Would you like to eat?” I ask, moving the tray between us.
“Yes,” she murmurs.
I nearly grin as I pull the top off of her plate. The savory smell of tomatoes and Italian seasoning fill my nostrils—spaghetti with meatballs.
Elena’s eyes glaze over, and she licks her lips. She must be starving. Grabbing the fork, I twirl some noodles and a slice of meatball onto it and bring it to her pink lips.
Eating shouldn’t be seen as sexual, but the way that her lips pass over the fork as she devours the food I’m offering her, turns me right the fuck on.
We continue this motion, me feeding her, and offering her small drinks of water in between, with her actually eating until the entire plate is empty. Leaning back against the pillows, she groans. I move the tray and place it on the chaise lounge.
“I’m so full, I think I might explode.”
“I wanted to tell you that I’ve decided to move the wedding up. It will be in a few days, and I hope by then you’re behaving better.”
“A few days?” She squeaks. “Why have you moved it up?”
“Your father’s motives mostly. You’ll be my wife by the end of the week.”
She doesn’t say anything to that, not that her objecting would change a damn thing. I would still marry her even if she begged me not to, though strangely, she hasn’t fought me on that at all. Being locked in the room, handcuffed, and trapped, yes, but everything I’ve asked her to do, she has done.
Stripping out of my clothes, I walk into the bathroom. I start the shower and jump in, washing my hair and body quickly. When I’m done, I walk out of the bathroom without even a towel slung around my hips.
Elena pretends as if she’s not looking at me, but I can feel her eyes roaming over my naked form, and I swear I can see her cheeks turning pink even from a distance. She is an enigma. One moment she wants my touch, and the next, she wants to claw my eyes out.
Walking into the closet, I find a pair of boxers, tug them on and return to the bed. I slide beneath the sheets and turn away from her.
“Good night, Julian,” she huffs, tugging against the cuffs. “At least one of us gets to be comfortable.”
“Be a good girl, and the cuffs might not be needed.”
“What do you mean might not be needed?”
“They might not be needed to restrain you all the time, only when I want to restrain you.”
“There is something wrong with you.” She twists and turns, ruffling the sheets with her movements.
“You have a lot to learn, sweetheart,” I whisper and tur
n the light off, blanketing the room into darkness.
“So do you, like this isn’t how you get me to listen to you.”
Rolling over, I face her, and even though it’s dark, I can still make out some of her features. “You ran, knowing I would punish you for it. That sounds like the only person who has a listening problem is you.”
She sighs. “I ran because I thought you were going to hurt me, and I wasn’t going to run initially.”
“Then what were you going to do?”
“I thought you were with someone else, and I was upset. You rejected me, and then I heard your men talking… they said you moved the timeline up. I thought you were going to kill me or do something worse. I panicked.”
I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but I understood. Deep down, I got why she ran, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a slap to my face. Had it been during the day, or one of my men had found her, it would’ve looked bad for me. Worse yet if she got away.
“I understand, but a punishment is a punishment.” Fluffing my pillow, I rest my head on it and do my best to ignore the heat of her body calling to me.
I don’t say anything else and let my eyes drift closed. My body itches to bring her closer to me, to hold her in my arms, but lately, she’s been feisty, refusing to let me touch her, and I don’t want to rehash anything with her. I just want to sleep.
Eventually, her breathing evens out, and I decide to let the exhaustion pull me under.
The sound of someone crying fills my head, lifting me from a foggy sleep. Soft whimpers fill my ears, and I roll over to find Elena with her eyes squeezed close, struggling against the cuffs, her tiny body trembling.
A nightmare. She’s having a nightmare.
Gently, I grasp onto her shoulders and give her a tiny shake. A sob breaks from her lips, and her cries get louder when her eyes blink open.
I find myself wrapping her up in my arms, pulling her closer, rather than pushing her away. My eyes are glued to her face, watching as the tears cascade down her cheeks like raindrops on a window. In all the time she’s been here, she’s never looked as broken as she does right now, and the emotions swirling in her eyes grab onto me, digging their claws into my subconscious.