Bad, Very Bad Shifters- The Complete Mega Bundle

by Daniella Wright

  He gulped back the drink in one swallow and signalled for James to send over another.

  “Keep them coming.”

  “Whatcha drownin’ yer sorrows fer?” the barkeep asked as he refilled the glass and Julius grunted, unsure of how to answer. “From what I hear, ya got yerself a pleasin’ lookin’ wife at home. Shouldn’t ya be tendin’ to her needs?”

  Julius scowled at the skinny man, baring his teeth.

  “Don’t speak about my wife again. Also, my personal life is none of your concern, James. I suggest you focus on what you do best; pouring my liquor.”

  “Suit yerself. But I warn ya, if you don’t take care of a beautiful woman, they find ways to take care of themselves.”

  Julius could not shake James’ words from his head.

  He is not wrong. If I continue to treat her shabbily, she will find a way to cope without me. Yet, I cannot return home. I am falling in love with my wife. I cannot allow for that to happen for if she ever discovers my secret, she will be devastated.

  Olive heard the door open despite its distance to her suite. Julius had set her in her own rooms in his sprawling French Quarter mansion and by the light of the dying fireplace, she stared at the intricate detail of the furniture.

  The servants had told her that Julius had stripped a palace in France to decorate his estate and it seemed everywhere Olive looked, she was staring at gold flecks and marble. There was a glorious sitting room with fireplace, a dressing room with a galvanized vanity and of course, a bedroom which boasted a stunning four poster canopy bed encased in shimmering curtains. Julius had filled her closet with expensive gowns and her chests with priceless jewellery. She felt like she was a princess living in a French castle with all the material goods in which she was surrounded.

  I want for nothing…except a husband to cherish me.

  Upon assuming the role of mistress of the manor, she had dismissed the chef, determined to cook her husband’s favourite dishes. She took painstaking care learning new recipes, discovering his best liked wines. She set the table with soft candles night after night and dismissed the servants so they could spend the evening alone. She hoped to rekindle the fire they had experienced on the night of their wedding.

  Every night, Julius would return home from his work and nodded impersonally at his wife. He would then sit down for his meal which he would consume without speaking, often reading a report. Precisely at the moment he had devoured his final bite, he would rise, adorn his hat and hastily disappear into the busy French Quarter.

  In the beginning, Olive had tried to draw him out, force him to converse with her but his endless disinterest eventually discouraged her.

  Night after night, Olive would remain staring forlornly out the window, pining for his return but he rarely came home before dawn. She tried not to think about where he went or with whom he spent his hours.

  She heard him in the foyer, slowly making his way up the stairs.

  What can I do to make him love me? Why is he so aloof? Am I so ugly, so uninteresting that he cannot bear to look at me? She wondered, blinking tears from her light blue eyes. She curled onto her side and stared at the wall.

  Suddenly, she heard the door to her sitting room open. Olive sat up and peered into the blackness, her stomach tensing in nervousness. Julius stood standing, watching her from the threshold. He did not speak for a moment. Then he slowly slipped across the wooden flooring toward her bed.

  “Julius, what is it?” she whispered, her heart hammering worriedly. To her surprise, he began to disrobe, dropping his clothes unceremoniously to the floor. After gaping at him for a few seconds, she realized he intended to sleep in her bed. Olive scurried to the side to allow for him to join her. As he climbed onto the thick mattress, he brushed a rogue blonde strand of hair from her face.

  “Tomorrow, you shall move your belongings into my suite. It is not natural for husband and wife to sleep apart,” he told her tenderly, placing his lips against her forehead. Olive was certain she was about to sob.

  He has finally grown to love me! She thought wondrously, lowering her mouth to meet with his. She finally had everything she had ever wanted.

  Chapter Six

  The following morning, Olive took special care with her appearance, brushing her hair with one hundred strokes before tying a velvet ribbon into her soft, flaxen curls. She pinched her already rosy cheeks to achieve color, examining her face critically in the gold vanity mirror. She wanted to ensure she looked perfect when Julius arrived home.

  “I will be home early today,” he told her amorously, his tone laced with promise. Eagerly, she kissed his full mouth, her eyes shining with longing. The night before had been more magical than their first time together, their lovemaking continuing until sun shone through over the Mississippi River.

  Shivering with delight, Olive smoothed the front of her blue lace dress and ran a slender hand over her throat, noting the splotches about her delicate skin where Julius’ mouth had marked himself.

  I will dismiss the servants today. I will make a pot of gumbo and chill wine. We will eat under the stars tonight and watch the ships on the river. I wish to be completely alone with Julius today now that we have found one another. We must make up for the time we have lost.

  As if reading her thoughts, there was a gentle rap at the door.

  “Enter,” she called and Juana entered, hanging her head.

  “Madam, there are two men here who wish to speak with you immediately.”

  Arching an eyebrow, Olive nodded.

  Likely Julius’ business associates, she thought. Over the weeks, many men had come calling when he was not present but none had ever asked to speak with her.

  It must be urgent, she thought.

  “Juana, you and the others may have the day free. You may resume your duties tomorrow morning.”

  “Madam?”

  The black maid stared at Olive in disbelief and Olive bobbed her head encouragingly. The servants were having a difficult time adjusting to Olive’s northern ways and they were not certain how to react.

  “You are dismissed,” she informed Juana. The woman did not hesitate and disappeared before Olive could change her mind. As Juana headed toward the back stairs to inform the others, Olive took the center staircase and slid into the foyer.

  As she slowly descended, her baby’s breath dress swirling about her ankles, Olive’s eyes fell on two men lingering in the entranceway. They turned to watch the enchanting blonde, their dark eyes an identical shade of inky black. One was tall and slim, young and exuded charm while the other was short and almost obese with yellow, fetid teeth and a leer. Immediately, Olive was struck with an inexplicable stab of fear. She swallowed her initial impression and forced a smile upon her face.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Perone,” the taller one said. “Is your husband home?”

  “No, I am afraid he had business to attend in Huma today,” she informed them as she proceeded onto the floor beside them.

  “Ah, Huma, yes. We stopped by his office but he was not there,” he replied nodding as if a great mystery had been solved.

  I do not like these men. The thought sprang unbidden to her mind and Olive was unhesitatingly ashamed.

  Hush your mind, now. You must be cordial to Julius’ associates.

  “When do you expect him to return?” the smaller one asked. His voice was taut and sinister and Olive thought of a tightly wound violin, ready to snap. He began to wander through the anteroom, trailing a pudgy finger over the showpieces.

  “In the early afternoon,” she answered quickly, eyeing him as if he intended to make off with a statue from under her nose. “Shall I tell him who called for him?”

  The handsome one chuckled and to her surprise began to wander further into the house, following his companion.

  “No need, Mrs. Perone. We shall wait for him here.”

  Aghast, Olive looked toward the closed door and then at the men who had retreated into the salon. She opened her mouth to prote
st but she got the distinct sense that arguing with these men would prove to be an exercise in futility.

  Slowly, she turned to join them in the cream toned front room, maintaining the smile on her face. They had already seated themselves, appearing to be quite comfortable in their surroundings. The chubby man’s eyes continued to dart about and Olive could not shake the sense that he was seeking out something to steal. It was ridiculous of course as his suit was tailor made and clearly expensive.

  He simply reminds me of a sneaky weasel, she thought. She could not stop the alarming thoughts from flooding through.

  “I should tell you, I haven’t a precise time for his arrival this afternoon,” Olive told them. “But as it is only the hour of ten, I imagine you will be waiting for quite a while. Perhaps you should come back in a few hours.”

  “No, we are quite comfortable here, thank you,” the tall one answered. Olive wracked her brain and tried another tactic.

  “I am afraid I have errands to attend to this morning and the servants are not here…”

  Her statement was rewarded with a deadpan expression by both men. Olive was finding it difficult to breathe. They were not leaving without first seeing Julius. She shrugged nonchalantly.

  “I just fear that you will be terribly bored here. We haven’t a library,” she lied.

  The shorter man leaned forward from his spot on the red lined wing chair and licked his lips.

  “Oh, I suspect we’ll find a way to pass the time, won’t we, Tony?”

  The younger man, Tony, smiled but Olive read the sneer in his expression and shuttered inwardly. He sat back against the chaise and put his long fingers into a steeply, his raven eyes examining Olive from head to toe and back up to her nervous expression once more.

  “Indeed,” he purred. Blood drained from Olive’s face and her mind began to race furiously. She had discharged the servants for the day which ensured she was alone in the house. She knew she was in danger as long as she was alone with these men.

  If I try to run, they will surely pursue and then what will happen? Are they murderers? No, you are just allowing your imagination to run wild. They are associates of Julius. Nothing is wrong here. They are simply socially stunted. But her reasoning did not calm her incensed sixth sense. She could smell the peril. No, I must not run. I would not stand a chance against the tall one and the fat one seems exceptionally dangerous.

  “Of course,” Olive replied, ignoring their dangerous innuendo. “Shall I put on some tea?”

  Tony’s eyes glittered and his shoulders seemed to relax as he realized she posed no potential for trouble. He had been studying her expression carefully.

  “That would be lovely,” Tony conceded. “Bruno, isn’t that magnanimous of Mrs. Perone?”

  Bruno grunted and waved her away as if she was a pesky fly, his beady black eyes endlessly roaming the room. Olive stepped from the room, careful not to seem overeager and entered the kitchen. She leaned heavily against the wall, pressing her hand to her chest.

  You must think, she urged, her mind whirling. How can you get yourself out of here without arousing suspicion?

  She started toward the kettle, lighting the fire for tea. She located the silver serving platter and laid out three saucers with teacups. As she reached in a drawer for spoons, she saw the back door was slightly ajar.

  She eyed it furtively.

  I can get out to the neighbor’s house before they notice I am gone, she thought excitedly. I will stay there until Julius returns to deal with these men.

  Glancing down the hall to ensure she was alone, she began to inch toward the back exit. Who are these men and what do they want with Julius? Perhaps he is in trouble also. I cannot just allow for him to walk into a trap. I will wait at the neighbor’s until he gets home and then -

  “How are you faring in here?”

  Olive whirled, her skin bubbling with gooseflesh as Tony sauntered into the kitchen. She snapped her extended hand back from the door and pried a beam onto her mouth.

  “I suspect the water shall boil any second,” she answered, walking back toward the stove.

  “Were you going outside?” Tony asked and Olive quickly shook her head, her back to him. She did not want him to read the guilt on her face.

  “No, I was simply closing the door. It appears to have a faulty latch,” she fibbed.

  She lifted the kettle from the fire and began to pour it into the waiting teapot. As she placed the lid onto the china piece, a muscular arm snaked about her waist and Tony breathed hotly into her ear.

  “Perhaps I can look at that for you,” he whispered and Olive instinctively struggled against him, pushing his vice-like arm from her belly. It was as firm as an iron bar.

  “I had no idea that Julius had such a lovely wife,” he murmured, pressing his hardness against her skirts. “I had heard you were beautiful but the gossip does not do you justice in the slightest.”

  Olive did not reply, her mouth suddenly filled with sand. Again, she squirmed but his hold tightened and suddenly Olive could not breathe. Tony’s hand stroked her shoulders and one palm slipped around her ribcage to encircle a full breast.

  “Mmm…” Tony demurred. “You are delicious.”

  His tongue traced the spot behind her ear, leaving a long, wet line toward the base of her neck. Olive shuttered in disgust.

  “I didn’t know you were having a party in here!” Bruno announced, lounging against the doorframe, a malicious smirk on his face. His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips and Tony’s mouth found the sweet skin of her shoulder. He bit viciously and another shiver of repulsion snaked down Olive’s spine. His hands continued to roam endlessly over her bosom, freeing them from her dress. His fingers pinched roughly at the tender skin, causing it to become erect and irritated. Bruno stepped forward to lower the dress completely to the floor.

  “Your husband is a lucky man,” Bruno told her, his palms running over her creamy thighs.

  “Luck has little to do with it,” she bit back. “He earns what he has. He does not just take what doesn’t belong to him.”

  Her ire was met with raucous laughter and Tony slapped her face.

  “You might enjoy this, Mrs. Perone. Variety is the spice of life they say.”

  Olive closed her eyes so they would not see the tears pooling.

  You must not give them the satisfaction of seeing you fall to pieces, Olive thought but her nerves were wound so tightly, she was certain they would snap beneath the hands of the violators.

  I’m sorry, Julius. I could not stop them, she cried silently. Why is this happening, just after we finally found one another?

  The front door opened.

  One of the servants came back!

  “Olive?”

  The men froze in the midst of their acts and Olive’s eyes flew open at the sound of Julius’ voice.

  “Oh Julius, thank the Lord! I am in the kitchen! Please help me!” she screamed.

  “Olive?” he called again, his question closer now as he approached, his voice filled with panic.

  Olive’s temporary relief turned to sheer horror as Bruno reached into his waistband and retrieved a pistol. Tony dropped his arms and produced his own weapon.

  “No! Wait! Stay away!” Olive howled as the men pointed their guns at the doorway. “Julius run!”

  It was too late. Julius appeared at the entrance, his face registering shock at the scene before him. His wife, half dressed, in tears and two men pointing weapons in his direction. The men cocked their pistols but before they could shoot, Olive reached for the kettle, dousing scalding water on them both.

  Shrieking in agony, they grabbed their faces as blisters began to appear. Olive did not hesitate. She grabbed the teapot and smashed it over Bruno’s head. More boiling water and fine shards of china spraying about. Julius wasted no time, springing into action as his wife kept Tony and Bruno at bay. He reached inside his vest and retrieved his own firearm, aiming it steadily at the two intruders.

 
“Get the hell out of here!” he roared, shooting Bruno in the arm. “Get out before I kill you!”

  Again, the man screamed but Tony grabbed him by the uninjured arm and rushed him toward the door. Julius fired off another shot, landing on Tony’s shoulder. The taller man grunted, turning to Julius with fire in his eyes despite the excruciating pain he endured.

  “You cannot escape the watchful eye of the Black Hand. Her father may be a capo but that will not protect you from what happened here. You will never get away with harming two of Luigi’s front men. We will be back…for both of you.”

  Julius raised his pistol again but the pair stumbled out onto Chartress Street in a puddle of blood.

  When she heard them stagger off the veranda at the front of the sprawling house, Olive’s legs buckled but Julius caught her before she collapsed completely to the floor. Her pulse seemed to speed up and slow simultaneously.

  He brushed her hair back lovingly, his eye filled with anguish and concern.

  “Are you well?” he implored, searching her for signs of injury. She nodded, dazed from what had occurred. She could not comprehend what they had said.

  How do they know my father? Who do they think my father is? Is this a case of mistaken identity?

  “Who were those men?” she whispered. Julius removed his coat to wrap her half-naked body, still rocking her gently in his arms.

  He sighed and looked away, unwilling to answer.

  “We can discuss that later, darling, when you are feeling stronger,” he told her but Olive pushed him back.

  “No! They were here to kill us both. I demand to have answers. Who are they and what did they mean about my father?”

  Julius swallowed deeply and embraced his wife to his hammering chest.

  “Your father has been consorting with the Black Hand,” he told her. Olive’s eyes told him she did not understand.

  “Is that a business? Who is the Black Hand?” she pressed. “Please tell me what is happening, Julius. I deserve an explanation!”

  Julius exhaled again.

  “They are an organization from Italy called the mafia.”