He caught it and ate the rest. “You don’t have to say it like that. We were actually fishing.”
“Sure.” I made quotation marks with my fingers. “Fishing.”
A former Romano fixer and an Italian-born made man leave on an overnight fishing trip? Sure… I was certain a dead body was involved somehow.
“Okay, we weren’t fishing.”
“I knew it was bullshit! Who’d you kill? Another Bruno?”
“Lil!” Lucy waved the cooking spoon at me like she was waving her finger. “The kids are close!”
I shrugged at her, nodded to the sauce, which was two seconds from boiling over, and returned my attention to Frankie. “Well?”
He tugged me against him. “Asher had a hookup with a botanist through Black Enterprises. We drove to Maryland to pick up flowers.” When Asher entered, Frankie grabbed a pot of flowers from him and handed them to me.
“Lily of the Valley,” I whispered, running my pointer finger down a petal. “They’re beautiful.”
“Oh, my God!” Lucy threw her hands up. “What is with you two?! Those are a one on the poison scale! As in, deadly. As in, not for kids. Your babysitting privileges are so revoked.”
Asher chimed in, “They’re genetically modified to not be poisonous.”
Frankie plucked the pot out of my hands and placed them on the counter, grabbing me instead. “We brought back enough seeds to fill your rooftop garden with them.” He tightened his arms around me, brought my ring finger to his lips, and kissed the ring. The same ring he’d picked out in that jewelry shop we’d broken into. They same ring he’d later proposed to me with. For real, this time. “Happy anniversary, Lily.”
I planted my lips on his, ignoring the ews from the kids and Lucy’s rant about PDA and the parenting books she’d read.
This was us.
Crazy. Happy. Reckless. Free.
Our love was venom.
The type you could never purge from your body.
The type that would either kill you or leave your poisoned heart scarred.
THE END
About Parker
Parker S. Huntington hates talking about herself, so bear with her as she awkwardly toots her own horn for a few sentences and then bids her readers adieu.
Parker S. Huntington is from Orange County, California. She graduated pre-med with a Bachelor’s of Arts in Creative Writing from the University of California, Riverside. As of August 2017, the 22-years-old novelist is still pursuing a Master’s in Liberal Arts (ALM) in Literature and Creative Writing from Harvard University. Go Crimson!
She was the proud mom of Chloe and will always look back on her moments with Chlo as the best moments of her life. She has 2 puppies—a Carolina dog named Bauer and a Dutch Shepherd and lab mix named Rose. She also lives with her boyfriend of five (going on six!) years—a real life alpha male, book boyfriend worthy hunk of a man.
For more information:
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If you liked the book, please leave a review wherever you can! Just a sentence or two makes a huge difference! If you didn’t like this book, I’d love to hear why, too! Feel free to reach me at [email protected].
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Also by Parker
Cruel Crown
Devious Lies
FT (#2)
TS (#3)
Five Syndicates
Asher Black
Niccolaio Andretti
Ranieri Andretti
Bastiano Romano
Renata Vitali
Damiano De Luca
Vincent Romano
Marco Camerino
Rafaello Rossi
About Giana
Giana Darling is a USA Today, Wall Street Journal, Top 40 Best Selling Canadian romance writer who specializes in the taboo and angsty side of love and romance. She currently lives in beautiful British Columbia where she spends time riding on the back of her man’s bike, baking pies, and reading snuggled up with her cat, Persephone.
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If you enjoyed reading about Frankie and Lily’s forbidden love story, you’ll love Cosima’s dark love story with her enigmatic Master Alexander.
ENTHRALLED and ENAMOURED are available now!
You can also read her sister, Giselle’s story right now for a glimpse at what happens to Cosima and Alexander TWO YEARS after the events of Enthralled! Find out what happens when Giselle takes a vacation before reuniting with her family in New York City, and meets the French billionaire Sinclair. He is everything she never knew she wanted, but he’s also taken…
One-click THE AFFAIR now!
5 HOT STEAMY AFFAIR STARS!! Get ready for a hot steamy one week holiday affair with twists and turns. Sexy Sinclair knows what he wants which is beautiful Giselle and he goes for it. These two will heat the pages up and suck you into their story. –– Goodreads reviewer 5 stars
Asher Black Sample
Also by Giana
The Evolution of Sin Trilogy
Giselle Moore is running away from her past in France for a new life in America, but before she moves to New York City, she takes a holiday on the beaches of Mexico and meets a sinful, enigmatic French businessman, Sinclair, who awakens submissive desires and changes her life forever.
The Affair
The Secret
The Consequence
The Evolution Of Sin Trilogy Boxset
The Fallen Men Series
The Fallen Men are a series of interconnected standalone erotic MC romances that each feature age gaps love stories between dirty-talking, Alpha Males and the strong, sassy women that win their hearts.
Lessons in Corruption
Welcome to the Dark Side
Good Gone Bad
A Fallen Men Companion Book of Poetry:
King of Iron Hearts
The Enslaved Duet
The Enslaved Duet is a dark romance duology about an eighteen year old Italian fashion model, Cosima Lombardi, who is sold by her indebted father to a British Earl who’s nefarious plans for her include more than just sexual slavery… Their epic tale spans across Italy, England, Scotland and the USA across a five-year period that sees them endure murder, separation, and a web of infinite lies.
Enthralled (The Enslaved Duet #1)
Enamoured (The Enslaved Duet, #2)
The Elite Seven Series
Sloth (The Elite Seven Series, #7)
Coming Soon
Inked in Lies (The Fallen Men, #5)
AhiL (Dante’s Mafia Book)
CHAPTER ONE
Melody
Fifteen Years Old
It’s wrong.
I know I shouldn’t do it.
“Whatever you do, you must not to leave this room. Keep this door locked, no matter what, understand me?”
I was instructed by not only the maids, but my own father, to stay put inside my bedroom. Apparently, my father is having an important business meeting, one he doesn’t want me around for.
What could possibly be so pressing to them that I’d need to stay locked in here?
Against my better judgement, I unlock my bedroom door. The mechanism echoes loudly, as if calling attention to my rebellious act. I lick my suddenly dry lips and cross over the threshold into the darkened hallway. Silence is all that greets me. The dark wood floors look like they go on forever. Tentatively, I disappear into the dark contours of the hall, leaving my bedroom behind.
With each step I take
up the stairs, closer to my father’s office, the deep voices inside become stronger, easier to hear. I follow the sounds, trying to make out what they are saying.
Who are they?
I have always had this inane desire to know what happens up here in his office while he meets with people, but I’ve never had the bravery to go against his orders and venture onto his floor of the estate. The only noises I’m able to focus on are my ragged breaths and the sound of their harsh whispers.
“The contract has already been signed in blood.” A voice echoes.
“Bullshit. She’s a goddamn child,” I hear my father growl. A crease forms between my brows. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound so frustrated. He’s usually calm and collected. Incredibly stoic.
“Unless you have another form of payment for your sins, this is all our boss is willing to compromise.”
“Compromise? This is my daughter!”
I press my back against the wall, trying to blend into the shadows when he mentions me. It feels like someone is playing the steel drums in my chest. My breaths are choppy, and my palms are suddenly slicked with sweat. There is a disturbing sense of dread pooling in my gut.
What are they talking about?
What about my father’s sins, and what does that have to do with me?
I creep closer to the cracked office door. Warm orange and yellow light spills from the crack, brightening the hallway. Gripping onto the wall behind me for support, I swallow down the lump in my throat.
“What’s it going to be, Mr. Westwood?” I hear the accented voice demand. Slamming my eyes shut, I wait with bated breath for my father’s answer.
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
Someone chuckles. It sends a chill down my spine. “There’s always a choice.”
My heart jumps into my throat at the sound of chairs scraping across the wood floor. Pushing off the wall, I only risk a glance back toward the office once, just to make sure I haven’t been spotted. I hurry down the stairs to my floor of the estate. If I’m locked back inside my bedroom, I can pretend I never heard anything in there. I can pretend there wasn’t a conversation taking place back there that involved me. The very last thing I need is my father or any of our staff catching me going against strict orders and spying. In my haste to get away, though, I don’t notice something blocking my way—or more accurately, someone.
I slam into a solid wall of muscle and nearly topple over, but a firm grip encloses around my arms, keeping me steady. The scent wafting in the air is what hits me first. It’s something smooth and dark, like the whiskey my father drinks, mixed with tobacco and cedar. The next thing I notice is the warmth that travels through my body in waves. My temperature climbs higher and higher, just from this stranger’s grip on me, which prompts me to look up.
A gasp rips from my lips when I do. I can’t see much in the darkened hallway, but I can see enough to make out this man’s features. He towers over my small frame. Dressed in a black on black suit, he blends into the shadows. His hair is a dark, inky black, a stark contrast to my golden blonde. His skin holds a natural tan hue I’d never be able to achieve. That isn’t what has my heart tripping over itself, it’s the color of his eyes. A striking blue. When our gazes clash, lightning strikes the center of my chest and fizzles throughout the rest of my body. It’s as if I’ve tapped into a live wire.
With most of his face shielded by the darkness, the windows give off a fraction of light to make out his features. It’s enough to admire the man standing before me. The lines of his face are sharp and rugged, reminiscent of the Greek gods. His brows are thick and arched, the focal point of his face. They darken his otherwise blank expression with heat, but his eyes, they remain icy, chilling me to the bone.
“You should really be more careful, Tesoro.”
My breath catches at the sound of his voice. It’s deep and smooth, flavored with something dangerous. Something that twists my stomach and has my heart racing in my chest.
“Why?” Despite my attempts to mask it, my voice comes out shaky. Afraid.
“Don’t you know? Monsters thrive in the dark.”
My mouth goes painfully dry. “And you’re a monster?”
He cocks his head to the side, regarding me with a silent intensity that leaves all the hairs at the nape of my neck standing at attention. I wait him out, expecting him to reply.
He doesn’t.
With practiced ease, he lets go of me and steps around me, heading toward my father’s office.
“See you around, Tesoro.”
I watch him disappear into the shadows, feeling unsettled by my run in with him.
Why didn’t he answer me?
What was he doing on my floor?
Long after he’s gone, I can still feel the warmth of his hands on me, the smell of his cologne and the texture of his words. They’re branded into my skin.
I’d later realize why.
CHAPTER TWO
Melody
Eighteen Years Old
Every summer, once a year, this carnival rolls into town. The lights are bright and inviting, even daring to reach the hedges of the gardens surrounding our house—imposing on my father’s compound. Because that’s exactly what this place is. It’s not a home. This mansion is a compound. Even from here, miles away, I can hear the teenaged laughter drifting harmonically through the air. I can almost smell the grease of hot dogs, buttered popcorn, and the sugary sweetness of cotton candy. Eighteen years and I’ve never felt the sensation of cotton candy dissolving on my tongue. I’ve never felt what it’s like to be an average teenager. A regular girl.
I’ve never experienced any of it. Hell, I’m never allowed to leave this place at all. It’s a pristinely decorated prison. A gilded cage.
“Melody.”
I whirl around at the harsh tone of my father’s voice. Dressed in a spotless three-piece business suit, he looks as well put together as ever. Not even a single silver hair out of place. An air of ruthlessness and impatience surrounds him, just like it always does. My father may be one of the main contributors to my existence, but he, in no way shape or form, has raised me. That inconvenience has been bestowed upon our maids and the nannies who live on the estate.
I don’t know much about my mother, other than the fact she passed away while giving birth to me. There are no photographs of her on the estate, my father didn’t tell me whimsical stories about their love while I was growing up. Instead, it was almost as if the moment she died, every part of her existence did too. She’s been erased from our lives. I’m all that’s left of her.
When I was younger, I used to wonder why her memory was so cruelly erased, but as the years passed, I started to realize that maybe, it was best I didn’t search for answers I wasn’t sure I could handle.
My father, Silas Westwood, has always been a man of very few words. He’s a ruthless businessman. A man with far too much power and wealth. His business dealings are his pride and joy. The late-night meetings with men in his office are the only things he cares about. None of which involve me. Well, except one. One meeting that took place three years ago, that I haven’t been able to forget. No matter how hard I’ve tried. When I close my eyes, I swear I can still hear his voice.
“You should really be more careful, Tesoro.”
The only discussions I share with my father involve nonsensical pleasantries over dinner and questions about my studies.
That’s it.
He hovers just over the threshold of my bedroom, looking like he has something important to say. It’s written there, in the pale green color of his eyes. Despite my better judgement, my heart flips in my chest. Over the years, I’ve gotten used to my father’s cold shoulder. The indifference he seems to have for his own flesh and blood is astounding. I don’t have the luxury of sharing father-daughter bonding moments. Silas’ idea of parental bonding is holing himself in his office and pawning me off on the maids.
I’ve always wondered why it is my father keeps me
at arm’s length. Did it have something to do with my mother and her death? Or was it just the simple fact that he felt no paternal instinct to care for me?
Part of me hopes today will be different. Is he here to surprise me with something for my birthday? I’ve waited all day, expecting to hear anything nice or congratulatory fall from his lips. Night has long since fallen, and I’ve yet to hear either. I’m officially a woman, eighteen years old today, shouldn’t that warrant something more than his cold shoulder?
Not likely.
“Daddy,” is my curt response.
“I presume you had a good day?”
No.
I force a smile. “I did.”
“Good.” He shoves his hands in his slack pockets, his eyes burning holes into me. “I’ll need you to be in bed early tonight. We have a meeting tomorrow morning. One you can’t miss.”
My brows tug low, and I frown. “We do?”
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It never does. “Yes. Get some rest.”
With my confusion hovering between us, he only lingers for a few seconds longer, staring at me as if this is the last time he’ll ever see me. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask why, but before I can, he turns on his heel and disappears.
No happy birthday.
No I love you.
Nothing.
Fighting back the pressure building behind my eyelids, I gnash my back teeth together and turn toward the window. The moonlight casts a silver glow throughout the room, but I’m not fixated on the object in the sky; instead, I’m drawn to the bright lights I can spot a few miles away.
Tales of Darkness & Sin: An Anthology Page 14