Savage Beginnings: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance

by J. L. Beck

  It doesn’t take long for a tingle to build at the base of my spine, and I know I’m close to coming. I grind my groin against her and swivel my hips, watching her face as the tip of my cock hits her g-spot.

  “Fuck, come for me. You need to come with me.”

  Elena doesn’t need any more words of encouragement, her eyes drift closed, and her body trembles in my arms. It is then that I feel it, her pussy pulses around me, tightening to the point of pain, and still, I move inside her, fucking her through her pleasure, and finding my own in the process. When I can’t hold off any longer, I go off like a rocket, my warm release coating the inside of her pussy. Her tiny little channel can’t take all my load, so some dribbles down my length and onto my balls.

  “That was…” She pushes up from my chest a little and looks up at me, her eyes sleepy.

  “Amazing?” I say, brushing a few strands of hair that stick to her sweaty forehead. The tension in my muscles has eased, and I feel replenished.

  She nods. “Yes, amazing, and so good.”

  I smile. “You’ve just had a taste of what I want to do to you. Eventually, I’ll claim every hole in your body with my cock, and believe me when I tell you, you’ll enjoy it thoroughly.”

  She cocks her head to the side. “How can you be so sure?”

  I brush my lips against hers. “Because as fucked up as it might seem, I know exactly what you crave, the right amount of darkness to your light, and I can make even the most painful things pleasurable. You’ll see.”

  She looks at me with wonderment, and strangely, I never want that look to leave her face. I always want her to look at me with need and know that I’ll protect her from the dark demons of our world. But I know, come tomorrow, she’ll never look at me like that again. I doubt she’ll even let me touch her without having a mental breakdown.

  Holding her in my arms, I whisper into her ear, “I can’t wait for you to become my wife tomorrow.”

  “Mmmm,” she says, nuzzling against my neck.

  If only we could stay like this forever.

  29

  Elena

  Sitting on the bed, I anxiously wait for Julian to return. He said he would be right back, but that was twenty minutes ago. Worry worms its way through me. I hope everything is okay. I’m probably just overreacting. Twenty minutes is not that long. Occupying myself, I think about the time we spent with Ella and Xander yesterday. For the first time, it felt like a normal day, like we were a normal couple. Hearing Ella tell me her and Xander’s love story, of how they came to be, gave me hope for Julian and me.

  The door to the bedroom comes flying open, and my thoughts evaporate into the air. I jump up from the bed and run my sweaty palm down the front of my sweater.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask as soon as Julian steps into the room. His beautiful features are strained, showing how frustrated he is.

  “Some guests arrived a little earlier than expected. I had to make sure everyone knows the rules,” he explains.

  “The rules?”

  “No one is to set a foot inside the house. The wedding and reception will be outside.”

  “Oh, okay. Who is here?”

  “The makeup and hair people are downstairs. They are ready for you now.” I don’t miss how tense Julian is, his body rigid, and his voice a little sterner than usual. Is he worried about the wedding? Is he having second thoughts?

  “You’re not regretting this, are you?” I whisper the words, hoping he says no.

  “What? Marrying you? Never. It’s the best fucking idea I ever had,” he says, holding the door open for me. The tension inside me seems to ease a bit at his words, and together we walk out into the hallway.

  “You seem tense.”

  “Your father is here.”

  I suck a harsh breath into my lungs. That explains why he is so tense.

  “But, you invited him, right?”

  “Yes, but he wasn’t supposed to get here until this afternoon. There’s no reason for him to be here this early.”

  “Did he ask about me? Maybe he just wants to talk to me before the wedding?” I try not to sound so eager, but it would be nice to have a small conversation with my father.

  “There is nothing to talk about,” Julian grits out.

  “Julian, I know you don’t like him, but he is still my father. I can’t help that. You’ll need to get along with him, eventually.” I need to fix this, need to fix them.

  “Let’s not talk about that,” he almost growls at me. “I don’t want to ruin our wedding.”

  Not talk about it? What’s that gonna help? “Why do you hate him so much, anyway? You never told me what happened between you guys.”

  I can feel the anger coming off of him in waves, and I don’t understand why? I’m just asking him a question. We turn the corner, about to descend the stairs when we both come to an abrupt halt.

  “Dad!” I gasp, taking in my father, who is standing at the top of the staircase.

  “Elena,” he greets, giving me a tight smile.

  “How the fuck did you get in here?” Julian snaps, pulling me behind him.

  “I think the better question is, why haven’t you told her the truth yet? Believe me, you don’t want to start a marriage built on lies. It never ends well.”

  The truth? He must’ve heard our conversation.

  “Like I would take any kind of marriage advice from you,” Julian sneers back.

  “What truth is he talking about?” My gaze ping-pongs between them.

  “The truth where he only took you from me for revenge. He doesn’t want you, Elena. He only wants to hurt me.” My father shoots daggers into Julian’s face.

  “That’s not true,” I defend Julian, shaking my head. He might not be capable of loving me, but I know he cares for me and that he wants me. In his own way, he tries his best to make me happy, and he wouldn’t hurt me.

  “Tell her, Moretti, tell her what this is really about. Tell her that it’s nothing but revenge for your mother.”

  “Shut up, you know nothing!” Julian roars.

  “What about his mother?” I feel I only know half of the story, and now I’m playing catch up. A second ticks by and then another. “Julian, what is this about? What’s going on?”

  “Your father killed my mother,” Julian grits through his teeth. His hands curl into fists at his sides, the muscles tightening, the veins showing in his hand.

  My eyes find my father’s, the same shade of green I see when I look in the mirror, greets me. “Dad?” I beg him to explain with that single word alone while hoping that it’s not true. I know my father has done despicable things, but I can’t see him killing Julian’s mother. It has to be a lie.

  Worry creases his forehead. “Elena, I loved your mother very much. I never planned on cheating on her, but then his mother seduced me.” My father lifts a hand, pointing a finger at Julian accusingly. “She got me drunk and into bed. Tricking me into getting her pregnant. It was the biggest mistake of my life–”

  “You’re a fucking liar!” Julian takes a step toward him. Feeling like I need to defuse the situation before it breaks out like a forest fire, I grab onto Julian’s arm, hoping that my touch will calm him a little.

  “It’s true! She was nothing more than a common whore, who tricked and used men–”

  A gasp escapes my lips when Julian rips his arm away from my hold and pounces on my dad like a lion. Rearing back his arm, he swings his fist and hits my father in the side of his face, making his head snap to the side.

  I’m so shocked, I just stand there, watching the whole thing play out in front of me like a movie. Julian’s a big guy, but so is my father, and both men are throwing punches at the other, some hitting so forcefully the sounds of bones crushing fills the space… or maybe I’m just in shock and hearing things.

  Where are the guards, and why can’t I move… or scream for help?

  I need to do something, but my stupid body is petrified with fear.

  Then I se
e it. In the midst of them beating each other to a pulp, my father pulls something from his pocket. Between the grunting, the limps swinging through the air, and the jerky body movements, I almost miss it.

  A small silver object, the sharp edge reflected by the light shining in from the window. A knife! He has a knife.

  In less than a blink of an eye, my body unfreezes, and I spring into action. My father has a knife, and he’s about to kill Julian, the man I love. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let him take this from me. Without fear or concern for my own wellbeing, I lunge a hand between them.

  With my eyes on the blade, the two bodies around me become nothing more than blurred limbs. I reach out to grab it, but before I can get close enough, an elbow thrusts backward and hits me in the center of my chest.

  Everything happens in slow motion. The impact sends me teetering backward, and I stumble, losing my footing. I take another step back to steady myself, only to realize that there is nothing to step on. I’m at the top of the stairs.

  In the midst of the chaos, Julian’s eyes find mine, and I see something in his blue depths I’ve never seen before. Fear.

  He reaches for me, stretching his arm out, extending his hand. I lift my own, trying to grasp his. Our fingertips touch, but when I close my hand, they slip away, and I grasp around nothing as I fall backward into the empty space.

  30

  Julian

  I’ve been alive for twenty-eight years. Almost three decades, and I can count on one hand the number of times I was scared, truly scared.

  Struck with a fear so intense that you can’t breathe, that your heart stops beating in your chest, and an ache forms in your gut that is so deep you think it’s going to kill you.

  Last time I felt anything remotely close to that was the day I lost my mother. I wasn’t scared of dying, but I was scared of living a life without her. I was scared of living in a world where no one loved me unconditionally. That was five years ago, and I didn’t think I would ever feel this frightened, would ever feel that kind of loss and dread again.

  I had no idea how wrong I was.

  I feel it now, feel it in my soul.

  The moment my elbow connects with her chest, my heart stops beating. Everything happens in slow motion from that moment on. Turning, I reach out for her. Every fiber in my body tells me one thing: save her. I have to save her.

  My hand extends, my fingers stretch into the air, and I lunge for her, but it’s too late. Her beautiful face is riddled with horror.

  Her green gaze widens, and her soft pouty mouth opens on a gasp as she falls backward. The organ in my chest thunders to life, beating so fast I swear it’s going to escape my chest.

  Do something! I scream inwardly.

  Forcing myself to move faster, be quicker, stronger, I lunge forward, but it’s futile. Fingers grasp onto nothing, and I have never felt so powerless in my life. Not even when my father died. Not even when I found my mother.

  Helplessly, I watch with a deep ache as her back hits the stairs, and she tumbles down them. Every step she hits, every limb that twists, and every bump her head takes, I feel it. Feel her pain so deep in my bones, I fear they may crack.

  My body moves on its own, and I find myself running down the staircase after her while still watching her fall into the abyss like a ragdoll.

  When she hits the bottom step, her body becomes motionless, and I fear the worst. She is so still, too still. My feet make little noise as I rush to her aide.

  Only when I get closer, do I see her chest moving. Rising and falling with each breath she takes. A sense of relief washes over me, but it’s not strong enough to calm the tsunami of fear. She could still be in danger. Mentally, my brain goes into protective mode. She could have a number of internal injuries, bleeding in her brain, broken bones, or an injured spine… the list goes on, and with each thought, I get more frantic. Just because I don’t see blood, doesn’t mean there isn’t something wrong.

  Terror rips at my flesh, tearing me apart from the inside out. All I can think about is how I could lose her, the one person who has the power to make me good, who sees good in me when no one else does, and all because of her father. A man that once already took so much from me.

  The coppery tang of blood explodes against my tongue as I grit my teeth.

  Kneeling beside Elena, I lift a hesitant hand to touch her, but I’m scared to do even that. What if doing so hurts her more? She needs a doctor, a hospital, not my gentle caress.

  Lifting my gaze from her still body, I peer around for my guards and find the hallway desolate. Glancing up the stairway, I realize it is empty as well.

  Red hot rage burns through me. Fucking Romero left. He left his daughter. Left her to die on the steps inside of our home.

  My hands tremble as I reach for my phone and retrieve it from my pocket. I don’t think, I just act as I dial nine-one-one. As soon as someone answers, I tell them my address and yell at them to hurry. I drop the phone onto the marble floor and look down at Elena’s pale face. I did this to her. I wanted to hurt her, and now that she’s hurt, I can’t bear it. It kills me to see her like this. Clenching my hand into a fist, I feel the need to destroy and rip the life from someone’s body. Romero will pay.

  Footsteps approach from behind me, and a moment later, a handful of guards show up. Their normally emotionless faces are filled with nothing short of fear and regret.

  They know what’s coming. I’ll fucking kill all of them for this.

  “How the fuck did Romero get into the house? You had one fucking job! To keep the place secure, and make sure no one got in. Find him!”

  They disappear, dispersing in different directions as they start searching the house. I let the sounds around me fall away, the entire world disappears around us.

  If there is no Elena, there is no me, and I realize that now.

  Holding Elena’s hand, I stroke her hair gently, afraid even that will hurt her. I have to do something, anything to make myself feel a little less helpless.

  Seconds turn into minutes, and it feels like an eternity until the ambulance gets here. A buzzing fills my ears as the front doors burst open, and three EMTs come rushing to her side. I make space for them by moving out of the way, even though everything inside me tells me to keep holding her hand.

  They work over her, their hands moving fast, and every move is precise as they carefully slip on a neck brace and slide the gurney beneath her. They ask me questions in between, and I answer each one like a zombie.

  I follow them out as they carry her outside and rush her into the back of the ambulance. For a brief second, I consider getting into the ambulance with them but know I’ll only be in the way. My feelings and fear are the least important things right now. I need to make sure Elena is okay, that she is still with me, and that she will make it through this.

  Getting into my car, I pull behind the ambulance and follow them to the hospital. With light and sirens, they fly through the streets, and I stay close behind. When I pictured our wedding day, I never expected it to be over before it even started.

  Clenching the wheel tighter, there is only one thought running through my mind, like a cassette on replay as I stare at the back of the ambulance.

  Please, don’t let her die.

  Since the moment they rolled her back into this room, I haven’t taken my eyes off her. They ran every test I demanded them to run, but even I couldn’t make the MRI machine work fast enough. Now, I sit beside her, watching... waiting for her to wake, for the doctor to return with the test results. All of this is out of my hands, and I feel like a plane spiraling out of control, nosediving into the ground.

  Forcing my thoughts to slow, I look down at Elena’s unmoving form. She looks peaceful, her face relaxed, and her head slightly turned into the pillow as if she’s simply sleeping. I wish it was mere sleep she was experiencing and that there wasn’t a risk I could lose her. The thought leaves a fist-sized hole in my chest.

  A quiet knock filters through
the door that has me tearing my eyes away from her still body. The door opens, and the doctor steps in, his movements are cautious. He’s an older guy with graying hair and dark eyes. Apparently, he’s the best the hospital has, and he better hope so.

  “Mr. Moretti, I’ve got your fiancée’s test results,” he explains. “I’m happy to tell you, her MRI came back good, considering the tumble she took. There are only minor injuries. Her right ankle is twisted badly. We’ll keep the foot raised and put a brace on it for a few weeks. Her left ribs are bruised, so we recommend that you keep them wrapped and iced to help with the swelling, aside from that, there is not much more we can do for her.

  Her head looks good. No bleeding or swelling in the brain, she does have a concussion, which is to be expected. Again, that is something that will heal with time. It’s like a very bad headache. I’m recommending she stay here for observation for at least one more day.”

  “But she’ll be fine? Make a full recovery?” The words rush past my lips.

  “Yes, she should be completely back to normal in a few weeks,” he confirms, and I suck a deep breath in, oxygen fills my lungs, for what feels like the first time today. “We’ll keep her on IV pain medication while she is here, and of course, send some home with you as well. Her body will heal on its own, but she will be in a good amount of pain for the first week.”

  A deep primal possession rips through me. I’ll take care of her. Make sure she only moves if she needs to. She will be taken care of, and her father will pay for hurting her.

  “She has all the time in the world to recover,” I say, a little gruffer than necessary.

  He merely nods and walks out of the room. I return my full attention to the angel in front of me. I stare, my gaze burning into her face. All I want is for her to wake up, for her to be okay. I know the doctor said everything is going to be okay, but I can’t believe that until she’s awake.