Morally Corrupt: A Dark Romance (Morally Questionable Book 1)

by Veronica Lancet

"I'd never thought she'd cheat either but... there have been some suspicious things."

  "Like what?"

  "Her lying about where she is, missing work. I don't know what's going on, and she's never even hinted at problems at work or with other friends. I honestly don't know."

  "Ask her!"

  "Really? That's your best advice? What if she lies again?"

  "I still don't think she's cheating. She's not the type."

  "I know, and that's what baffles me. What is she hiding?"

  "Simple. Get someone to follow her around. See what she's up to."

  I sigh. "What if I don't want to find out?"

  "That's up to you. I can get you hooked with a man to watch her. I trust him implicitly, and he owes me a favor." When he says that, I can only raise my eyebrows. Marcel has some questionable connections, one of them being the same Vlad, who rules over Brighton Beach.

  "Who is it?"

  "My cousin, Rico" He smiles. "He's a hustler. And I told you, he owes me."

  "I don't know. I want to meet him first."

  "Fair enough, let me give him a call."

  Marcel stands up, placing the rest of the files on my desk before leaving. I groan. Am I becoming one of those people who have their wives followed? Is this getting out of hand?

  It’s close to the end of the day when I am heading towards my car that Marcel gives me a call.

  "We're in the back," he says and hangs up. I leave my car and head around to the back to find Marcel in his immaculate suit standing next to what can only be described as a punk. I take a moment to observe both of them, looking for the similarities that would make them family. Marcel’s hair is a sandy blonde with olive skin and amber eyes. Eyes that he shares with this Rico. But his cousin is on the fairer side, with light blonde hair and pale skin. Their builds are similar, both of them relatively tall and muscular, but the way they carry themselves and their clothing make all the difference. Marcel always looks stiff and put together, secretive and mysterious. He never has a hair out of place. The punk is dressed very casually, his stance relaxed, and his mouth sports a constant grin. Rico must be in his late teens, early twenties, and the carefree of the youth is reflected in his face.

  "This is Rico." Marcel motions to his cousin in an abrupt manner. Very Marcel-like.

  "Nice to meet you." I offer my hand, and he shakes it, giving Marcel the eye. I want to ask him if he’s involved in anything illegal. It’s just a feeling I got.

  "I filled him in on the topic."

  "Don't worry, dude, I got you," the punk drawls.

  "I'll have Marcel hand you a copy of her usual schedule, but you should really follow her around from the moment she leaves the house."

  "Not my first rodeo. I got you." Rico winks before turning his back and getting into a beat-up car. He gives us a hand gesture meant to say goodbye, and mockingly addresses Marcel.

  "Later, cuz!" He takes off.

  "You sure you trust him?" I ask Marcel again.

  "He's... different. But he can do it, don't worry."

  "Good," I say, but I don’t know if I mean it. Is any of this good?

  "He’ll start tomorrow. I told him to call you if there is anything out of the ordinary and not like her regular routine."

  "God, I just hope I won't regret this."

  "Hey," Marcel starts and puts his hand on my shoulder. The entire gesture is shocking in itself because Marcel always goes out of his way to avoid touching others. I look at him and see his consternation.

  "It's going to be alright."

  I just nod.

  CHAPTER V

  I’m going about my day as usual when my phone goes off, and Private Number appears on the screen. I look around the office, making sure that no one is around, and I answer it. Something’s telling me that whoever is on the other line isn’t going to bring any good news.

  "Artemis," I answer, using my mercenary code-name.

  "Little goddess" A chuckle at the end of the line alerts me to the caller's exact identity.

  "Berserker," I reply sarcastically, knowing fully well he detests being called by that name.

  "Alas, I bring about dire news." He sighs in that dramatic style of his.

  "Spill, I can't talk for long."

  "Oh, is that wimpy husband of yours around? You wound me."

  "Don't force my hand. What is it?"

  "That's exactly what I wanted to talk about. Your husband. You'll want to know."

  "What is it?"

  "Meet me tomorrow at 5. The bar."

  "But..." I am about to answer, but he hangs up on me. Fucker. Ugh... Nothing is going well. What could he have to tell me about my husband? Maybe it’s something regarding the incident at the port. Whatever it is, it’s making me too anxious.

  I go through the motions at work, looking forward to arriving at home and seeing Theo. We haven’t said anything more about what happened last night, and I sincerely hope whatever happened to him isn’t related to me or my activities. Just thinking about the look he'd given me... Chills start spreading down my body. I could take a bullet, and it wouldn't kill me. But my husband's contempt? That would be the end of me.

  When I finally arrive home, it’s to be greeted by the most delicious smell in the world.

  "Theo?"

  "In the kitchen," He yells. I round the corner to the kitchen to see him in a black shirt and gray sweatpants, with an apron on top. He has mittens on his hands, and he’s removing a tray from the oven.

  "My, my." I start, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly. "What have we here?"

  "My apology?" He grins at me and puts the tray on the table.

  "And he cooks." I whistle suggestively. "Where can I find a man like that?"

  "You have it" He comes and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

  "Aren't I lucky?"

  "I'm all yours, darling. I come with lasagna too." He smiles and gestures to the food.

  "Consider me impressed." I return his kiss and tell him I'll quickly change and join him for dinner.

  When I'm back, he's already lit two candles and opened a red wine bottle, pouring it in two glasses.

  "Alcohol again?" I raise an eyebrow jokingly, and he smiles sheepishly.

  "I have to say your apology gets a 9/10," I tease after I try a bite of the lasagna.

  "Why'd you take one point off?" He frowns at me.

  "You didn't get me flowers."

  "You're allergic." He counters.

  "I don't care, it's all about the gesture."

  "But then you would have sneezed."

  "Fake flowers." My tongue goes out at him cheekily.

  "Should I be cheesy and say you're the most beautiful flower? Would I get the point for that?"

  "Ewww, Theo. Too cheesy!" I start laughing, and he joins me.

  "Fair enough. I had to try."

  "You're amazing, you know that?" My face softens as I look at him. I stand up and come behind him, wounding my arms around his neck.

  "Only because it's you." His hand comes up on top of mine, and we stand like that for a moment.

  "Ok, that's it. Let's put the dishes in the sink for Martha, and let's go watch something."

  "Am I forgiven?" His voice is serious now.

  "Only if I am, for whatever I did." He shakes his head and purses his lips.

  "I told you it was all me."

  "Then there's nothing to forgive. Come on, I'll let you choose the show."

  "Wow, so magnanimous of you" He follows me into the living room, and we make ourselves comfortable on the floor. It's been a tradition of hours ever since we'd gotten the penthouse. Since the carpets are so incredibly soft, we always end up there and not on the sofa. We start browsing around for a show, and after a while, he seems to find the courage to ask me something that's clearly been on his mind.

  "B... Did you really like it?" He's still looking at the screen and not at me.

  "I did." I sigh, and I turn to face him. "Theo, why did you think I wouldn't?"


  "B... you're so soft, and you've had such a sheltered upbringing... I didn't think you'd ever..."

  "I promise you I enjoyed it. Didn't you?" There’s such a duality in Theo, sometimes it’s almost too amusing. Knowing how he’d treated Pink and how he'd enjoyed it had made me realize from the beginning that there were some depths to Theo that I just couldn't reach. Not as long as I was Bianca, the pure wife. As Pink, I'd felt it on my own skin how wild and uncontrolled he can be. As Bianca? He'd always held something back. Something animalistic and primal that called to the bloodthirst inside of me.

  "I did." I put my head on his shoulder and hug his arm. "Tell me something, Theo." I’m feeling daring, especially now that we’re opening up to potential sexual adventures.

  "What's your darkest sexual fantasy?" Almost as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I feel him stiffen.

  "What... what prompted that?"

  "Well, if we are going to have an open discussion, why not lay it all out there. What's something you'd really, really like to try?"

  There's a pause where he almost doesn't breathe.

  "To have you at my mercy." He finally says, and it's my turn to frown. That's it?

  "You already have me." I try to make light of it. He gives a tormented laugh.

  "You have absolutely no idea what you're saying."

  "I'll let you do whatever you want to me," I tell him, hoping he will give me some specifics.

  "Whatever..." He repeats almost in wonder. "B... I would destroy you."

  I look at him, expecting him to laugh, but he's earnest. My eyes meet his, and I see the truth. He would, in fact, destroy me.

  Ah, how I wish he would.

  CHAPTER VI

  I leave for work as usual and stay for a few hours. Then I head to my apartment to get ready for the meeting. I barely slept last night. Even after Theo's surprise, I was still anxious about today's meeting. I know Berserker would never contact me if it wasn't something I needed to know. Which made the anticipation worse?

  I get inside my apartment and head for my closet. I put on a pair of leather pants, a black tank top, and a leather jacket with a big bow and arrow on its back. Turning towards the big mirror, I add a long red wig with big curls and silver contacts. Sheathing a good number of knives in my combat boots, I also add a small gun, just to be sure.

  I'd gotten my code name Artemis due to my perfect aim. I'd never actually used a bow and arrow, but my reputation for hunting down targets had made sure the name was deserved. Stopping by the bedroom for a dose of magic powder, I then take the elevator and go to the parking lot where my Harley is waiting for me. Whenever I venture into the underground world, I hold on to my Artemis persona, which means that my disguise always needs to be impeccable. It isn’t as if Berserker doesn’t know who I am, but the rest of the people do not. And it’s better if it stays that way.

  After getting on my ride, I speed through the highway and head towards Brooklyn. It doesn’t take me too long to reach the club, given that it’s still daytime. There also aren’t many outsiders around. I park my Harley and head towards the entrance. A big guy is standing outside, but he just nods and opens the door for me.

  "The boss is in his office." was all he said.

  I nod and enter. On my way to the office, I pass a few tattooed guys who give me odd looks. When I am in front of the door, I knock three times, slowly withdrawing one of the knives from the hiding place.

  "Come in."

  I enter the room and see him behind his desk, his long legs propped on the table in a relaxed manner.

  "Punctual. What else to be expected from a goddess?" He gives me one of his wicked grins.

  "Cut it," I reply and throw the knife an inch from his head. He doesn't flinch. His expression doesn't change. He just watches me. And then he laughs.

  "Ahhhh, heavenly love. Of course." He takes his feet off the table and stands up, coming around the desk to give me a big hug.

  "It's been what... three weeks?"

  "Four. But who's counting." I smile and return the hug. "Ok, so spill, what happened."

  "Little goddess, so impatient," he shakes his head. He knows that anything Theo related makes me lose control.

  "Come on, Vlad. Out with it. You wouldn't have asked me to come if it wasn't serious."

  "That's the issue. I don't know how serious." He stops smiling and motions me towards the computer on his desk. He presses a key on it, A video of me in my Chanel dress from when I'd gone to scout locations for the shooting starts playing on the screen.

  "What's this?"

  "This is you being irresponsible. Fucking irresponsible." He says, and I can tell he is disappointed.

  "Why do you have this?"

  "Because..." he starts in an exasperated tone. "Marcel, your husband's dear friend Marcel, asked me for footage in the region related to some shooting. Now, if you'd told me of your plans, I would have known not to give them the footage. But you never ask for help, do you? And now you are on camera, going inside a seedy hotel a few days before a shooting that resulted in three fucking corpses. Care to tell me what your excuse is? Damn it, B, you're smarter than this."

  I'm shocked at his outburst. But more than anything, I'm appalled at what he's saying. I look again at the video and realize that you can tell it is me, especially when I'm leaving the hotel. This is bad. He's right. I was careless. Fucking hell. My hands clench at my side.

  "Did my husband see this?"

  "He did, and he recognized you."

  "Fuck" I curse and kick the desk with my foot. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" Shit… was this why he was behaving so odd? No fucking way. He can't know.

  "Did he make the connection?" I ask, and I'm almost afraid to know.

  "No... I think I managed to save your ass, but I threw you under the bus simultaneously."

  "Out with it, Vlad, I need to know."

  "I might have said it looked like you were having an affair."

  My mouth drops open as I stare at him. Affair? Shit. I look back to the video, and I see that my hair was visibly wet when I exited the hotel. I pale. This doesn't look good.

  "Did he believe it?"

  "I don't know... He looked stricken. I think the seed was planted."

  "Fuck. That makes so much sense."

  "What?"

  "When I got home, probably after he'd seen the footage, he was so drunk. I'd never seen him like that. Then out of nowhere, he backs me against the wall and fucks the shit out of me. This makes so much sense," I’m pacing now, realizing the reason for his behavior. He'd been jealous. Did he really think I'd ever cheat on him? I pause to think about it. I’d never let any other man besides him touch me. He couldn't actually believe I'd cheat.

  "He fucked the shit out of you?" Vlad asks, amused. "I didn't think he had it in him."

  "Oh, shut it. What do I do now? I can't have him thinking I'd cheat, but I also can't exactly go tell him, oh, you know that day I was just planning to gun down anyone who was a danger to you. Oh, and by the way, I'm a paid killer. I don't even know which one is worse."

  Vlad brings his hand up to rub his chin pensively. "The killer part, definitely. Maybe he's into that cuckold scene. I could give you a hand..." I punch his shoulder hard, making him wince and throw up his hands in a sign of peace.

  "Stop bad-mouthing my husband. I need to think..."

  "I just don't get it. Why were you so fucking careless.”?

  "I don't know, ok. It's never happened before." He is silent for a minute, tapping his foot.

  "You're using again." He says accusingly, and I give him a sad smile.

  "When did I really stop?"

  "You should. It's messing with your efficiency. One of these days, you're gonna get yourself killed. And you'll have those drugs to thank for that."

  "Whatever," I mumble, knowing he's right.

  "B," He calls affectionately. "I can help."

  "I know... but I don't know if I'm ready."

  "One of these days you’ll have to be
... I don't like you wasting away because of drugs."

  "Says the drug trafficker." I snort.

  "Yeah, well, I don't touch that shit."

  "Whatever," I say again and try to change the subject. "I'm going to try to sneak my visit to the hotel into a conversation and spin a tale. I really don't want him suspecting anything, especially infidelity."