Savage Ruler: A Dark Italian - Irish Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Sinfully Savage)

by Kristen Luciani

  He nods and squeezes my hand, his forehead etched with concern.

  How nice.

  At least one person gives a shit.

  Chapter Eleven

  Matteo

  Gio sees us leave the pub and jumps out of the front seat to open the doors for us. He shoots me a curious look when his eyes land on Heaven, but I give my head a quick shake to stop any potential questions from leaving his mouth.

  Roman gets into the front seat, leaving me and Heaven to slide into the back. She doesn’t say anything, she just turns toward the window closest to her and settles against the leather seat. She lays her head against the leather, and a deep sigh deflates her shoulders.

  I fight the urge to put my arm around her. Instead, I pull out my phone and shoot off a text to Alfie. I stab the keyboard, the anger channeling through my fingertips.

  One of them is gonna pay big tonight.

  I want you and Philly in my office in an hour.

  Barely a few seconds pass before I get a reply.

  Sure, boss.

  Boss. That’s fucking right! And if I give an order, I expect it to be followed!

  I scrub a hand down the front of my face, half-listening to Roman rave about some of the food he’d managed to scarf down in between me getting chewed out by my fiancée for duping her and toasting to our engagement.

  “It was the best fucking beef stew and Irish soda bread I’ve ever had!”

  “When was the last time you had either?” I ask, pushing my hair back and leaning against the headrest.

  “Never, but if I had, this stuff would have beaten its ass, trust me. Fucking amazing! Hey, Heaven, can I hire your cook?”

  I let out a snort and Heaven turns slightly toward Roman. “You don’t need to hire her. She’s evidently marrying into your family, so there will be plenty for you to enjoy in the future.” She gives me a sharp look. “As I imagine that cooking will be one of my wifely duties.” Her lips twist into a frown and she turns back to the window.

  Roman jerks his head toward me and I throw up my hands.

  After the longest ten minutes of my life, we’re at my townhouse. It’s not the one I use for the parties, but it has a few rooms with a similar feel for my own personal use.

  I doubt very much I’ll be visiting them with present company, though.

  I open my door, but Gio makes sure Heaven has a hand to help her out of the truck. She jumps to the ground and flashes a smile at Gio before walking around to join me. With a cold look up at me, she lifts an eyebrow, waiting for me to make a move.

  It takes a second before I realize I need to take a step.

  God, those eyes of hers. They’re soul-piercing with swirls of so much emotion, I know that if I stand here long enough, I’ll just float away in them.

  Argh, I have to stop thinking shit like that.

  Heaven Mulligan is a means to an end.

  That is it!

  I’m not supposed to have feelings for her. I’m not supposed to give a damn what she thinks about me. And I’m definitely not supposed to fantasize about her body writhing against my tongue.

  So the fact that she’s staring at me with disdain in her gaze should not bother me in the least.

  Except…

  It does. A whole fucking lot. So much that I want to figure out a way to eliminate it from her perception of me.

  But that’s just impossible. Even if I change her mind now, pretty soon, she’ll find out who and what I really am.

  It always happens. You can’t hide the truth forever. You can only hope to cover it up for as long as you need.

  And time is short and ticking away fast.

  A few days ago, I couldn’t wait for things to get moving. I’d waited for long enough.

  Right now?

  I just want to stop the clock.

  I want to take a breath.

  That startles the hell out of me because for as long as I can remember, I’ve charged ahead without ever once thinking about what might happen if I slowed down. I already knew what my fate would be if I so much as stumbled.

  I blink fast, stepping back to motion her to the front door. She pulls her eyes away, looking up at the tall, brick-faced townhouse with the big black door with a droop in her posture as the realization sinks in that she’s staring at her new home.

  Heaven slowly walks up the path leading to the steps and drags herself up the tall staircase. She spins around once she’s reached the top. “Are you coming or what?”

  I take the steps two at a time and key in the security code to shut off the alarm before twisting my key in the lock.

  Well, all three locks, actually.

  “Great, I’m living at Fort Knox,” she mutters as I push open the door. I brush against her by accident and she recoils. “I hope you’re not getting any ideas about carrying me over the threshold.”

  I smirk. “I’m pretty attached to my balls, and I’ve seen what you can do when people around you don’t mind their hands.”

  Her ponytail bobs as she nods. “So long as we’re on the same page,” she grumbles, stepping into the foyer and looking around. There are a few lights on because I always like to look for any out-of-place shadows once I get inside. If people want to get to you, trust me, they will find a way.

  I’m a pretty persistent person, so I know that from experience.

  “So, you live here?”

  “For now,” I say. “I have a few different places.”

  “Where?” She narrows her eyes.

  “Around.” I shrug. “Sicily, Miami, Vegas—”

  “How often do you travel? Do you live in those places?” Her spine stiffens. “Because I’m not moving! Just so we’re clear! Manhattan is my home and I’m not—”

  “Heaven,” I say. “Relax. We’re not moving.”

  “Okay,” she mutters, walking farther into the place. She examines every last bit of the first floor before she speaks again. “It’s…big.”

  Big. That’s all? Jesus, I hired a pretty expensive decorator to make it livable after I bought it.

  “But it doesn’t exactly scream ‘married’. It’s more of a place where you’d bring your bitches.” Her eyes widen. “Speaking of, that is a hard fucking no, Matteo. I don’t want this arrangement at all, but there is no way you’re going to have sidepieces prancing through here. Girls from your sex parties! Hell no! I’ve been humiliated enough!”

  I bite back a smile. I love how fired up she gets. It must be that Irish temper I was warned about. “I’d never do anything here, Heaven.”

  She storms right up to me and pokes me in the chest with her finger. “I’m not just talking about here,” she hisses.

  “I didn’t realize you gave a shit,” I say. “You’ve made it clear that I disgust you, using a lot of different and colorful words.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she sneers. “It’s not like I want it. I just don’t want anyone else to have it once the ball and chain has been attached to my ankle.”

  “So then until the wedding—?” I start to joke when she takes a swing at me. I catch her forearm in my hand and twist it slightly, eliciting a yelp from her lips. “I thought I warned you about taking a hand to me.”

  “This isn’t the Old World, paisano,” she shoots back. “I’m not your property. You don’t get to order me around! Besides, I’m not afraid of you!”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want you to be afraid. I just want you to learn your place.”

  “My place?” she shrieks. “My place is about ten minutes north of here, in case you’ve forgotten, dickhead!”

  “You know,” I growl, pulling her close, trying hard to not get sucked into her funnel cloud because I know if that happens, escape will be damn-near impossible. “I’m trying to be patient with you, Heaven. But you’re making this very fucking hard on me and on yourself. This is it, do you understand? We’re getting married, like it or not. You can throw digs and tantrums, but it won’t change things. It’ll only make them worse. So keep your
fucking hands off of me or I will show you what will happen.”

  “Is that threat supposed to scare me? Huh? Is that how you ingratiate yourself with your bride-to-be?” she seethes sarcastically, her breath hot against my chin.

  I shift, my cock twitching in my pants. Christ, I want to tie her up so badly and fuck that venomous streak right out of her while she screams for me to give her what she wants.

  Because from now on, I’m the only one who can.

  The only one who will.

  Hatred aside, she’s fucking perfect.

  And just a taste of that pussy wasn’t nearly enough.

  I want more…need more.

  Then again, that’s why I’m in this predicament to begin with.

  It’s always about wanting more, never being satisfied with what I have.

  It’s why Heaven and I will ultimately crash and burn.

  I didn’t sign on for the whole big love thing when I made my proposal to Declan.

  I did it for the promise of a very lucrative future.

  But something about her makes me question my plans.

  Something makes me want to shield her from what’s to come.

  Because she doesn’t deserve this.

  The only problem is, I can’t stop what’s already in play.

  I have to deliver.

  A lump forms in the back of my throat as I angle my body even closer to her. I can feel the thump of her heartbeat against my chest as I press my fingertips into her back, her glossy hair grazing the top of my hand. “I don’t want to scare you,” I say, my brows pulling in.

  Her eyes blaze with unleashed fury, her lips pressed together in a slight grimace. “I hate what you’re doing to me,” she whispers through clenched teeth, her spine stiff. “What my father is doing to me.”

  Note that she didn’t say she hates me.

  “I got that,” I say. “You’ve made it pretty clear.”

  “And I despise my brother Conor for putting me in this position.” She spews the words, but still makes no move to break free from my grasp. “I’ve cleaned up his messes for years and my father knows it. I don’t give a damn that he’s a guy. Conor didn’t earn his place. He doesn’t deserve what he’s been given.”

  “No, he fucking doesn’t,” I mutter, more to myself than to her.

  We stand there, staring at each other for what feels like the longest minute of my life.

  I loosen my grip but she stays pressed against me, her back arching slightly. Her gaze, which screamed contempt only seconds ago, has morphed into something much more heated.

  Warmth coils in my gut as I slowly run my hand down her spine. She lifts her chin, gazing up at me with a mixture of curiosity and desire in her bright eyes. Her lips part ever so slightly, and my breath stills as I wait for her to speak.

  She doesn’t.

  But there’s a whole lot she wants to say.

  There are chapters upon chapters etched into her conflicted expression.

  But then she blinks and the spell seemingly cast over us both shatters. I drop my hands and Heaven backs away, her cheeks flushed and eyes averted.

  “I’m tired,” she says. “Where should I sleep?”

  I run a hand through my hair as if that alone is going to screw my head back on straight. With a wave of my hand, I motion to the stairs. “The master bedroom is upstairs.”

  She lifts an eyebrow. “I think I’d rather a guest room.”

  “I’ll take the guest room,” I say. “I had the master made up for you.”

  Heaven rests her hand on the polished wood banister and slides it up as she slowly takes each step toward the fourth floor where the master bedroom is situated. With a glance back over her shoulder at me, she twists the brass doorknob and pushes open the door. She stops short, letting out a low whistle. “Wow,” she breathes, stepping farther into the room.

  I stand in the doorway, leaning against the door frame as she takes in the space. I had one of my assistants decorate it for her so it didn’t look like such a man cave. The bedding is bright white with soft furry throw pillows in warm, muted tones scattered across the top. Windows line the wall opposite the bed, and a view of the city lights up the dark night sky. I had the modern furniture in the room replaced with more plush pieces, and a thick, white fur rug now sits in the middle of the room to complete the look and feel of luxe comfort.

  It’s the best I can offer her right now, and the expression on her face tells me it’s enough.

  Heaven turns to look at me. “It’s lovely,” she says in a garbled voice, like her vocal chords are resisting the admission to feeling anything for me other than distaste.

  “I’m glad you like it,” I say, backing away from the door as the urge to fling her into the center of the bed and strip her down takes hold. I glance at my watch. Not that I have time. I have a date with my trusted crew in about half an hour, and anything I’d do to Heaven would take considerably longer.

  Days, even.

  I press my fingertips to my temples and her brows furrow.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” I rasp. “I just forgot that I have some place to be. I think you’re all set here, though.”

  She walks over to a tall mirror in the corner of the room and pulls off her baseball cap, then she loosens the rubber band holding her thick, lush hair away from her face. It cascades down her back, the highlights glimmering in the soft overhead lights. With a slow half-turn, she pulls at the hem of her shirt. “I don’t suppose you have any clothes I can borrow? I didn’t exactly have time to pack, you know,” she says dryly.

  I swallow hard. Clothes. Shit, I didn’t think of that. Maybe it’s because every time a vision of her appears in my mind, she’s naked.

  Exactly the way I want her.

  God help me.

  I walk over to a dresser and pull out a t-shirt and gym shorts. “I’ll get you anything you need tomorrow. In the meantime, wear these.”

  Or, you know, nothing.

  I press my lips together, my pulse hammering as she unbuttons her jeans, slowly shimmying to the floor as she slides them to her ankles and kicks them off. Her t-shirt is long enough that I only get a tiny glimpse of her hot pink panties…that is, until she slides the t-shirt over her head to reveal a matching pink bra.

  I don’t move. I don’t breathe. I just watch, like some fucking psycho creeper who’s never seen a woman strip before.

  The corners of her lips curl upward as her eyes tussle with mine, challenging me to walk away and ignore the vision of erotic bliss in front of me.

  She knows exactly what she’s doing to me, too.

  My fingertips tingle with the need to reach out and caress her creamy skin, to feel her tremble beneath them like they did the other night. With a seductive grin, she slides her hands up the sides of her torso, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. The straps slip off of her shoulders and it flutters to the floor, exposing her breasts. The dark pink nipples peak, beckoning me to nip and tug at them with my mouth.

  A pang in my chest reminds me that this isn’t play time, that there are issues to be handled.

  But the rest of my body doesn’t give a good goddamn about what I have to do, only what I want to do. Tiny hairs on my arms stand at attention as she takes a few steps toward me, shaking out her hair as she walks. She gazes up at me from beneath her thick lashes and my mouth waters, remembering how incredible she tasted.

  “You look like a guy who’s never seen a woman naked before,” she says, grabbing the t-shirt and pulling it on. “Not the kind of reaction I’d expect from a sadist like yourself.”

  “I’m not a sadist. Humiliation isn’t my game.” I grin at her. “I’d consider myself to be more of a deviant than anything else.”

  “Noted,” she says in a sarcastic tone, pulling on my shorts and flinging off the comforter before climbing onto the bed. She kneels in the center, cocking her head to the side. “I thought you said you had somewhere to be?”

  “Ye
ah, I, uh, I won’t be long. And Gio will be stationed outside in case of anything.”

  “Yup, him, the alarm, and the fifty locks should keep me safe.” Heaven flips onto her side, leaning up on her elbow. Her hair falls over the bruised part of her face as she stares at me. Her feet rub together, her bright red toenails a stark contract to her white skin.

  I love her feet.

  Fuck, I have to get out of here now.

  “Call me if you need anything.” I try to move, but it feels like my feet are rooted in the damn floorboards.

  “Silly me,” she says in a fake sweet voice. “I didn’t program my fiancé’s number into my phone!”

  “There’s a burner in the drawer,” I say, nodding to the nightstand closest to her. “The number is already in there. It’s the only one you’ll need.”

  “How lucky am I?” she says in a mock sing-song voice, clasping her hands together. “You’ve really thought of everything. I mean, except clothes.”

  “Maybe that was on purpose,” I quip, winking at her before turning to leave.

  “Pig.” She fluffs the pillow and lays her head into it. A glimmer of a smirk on her face makes my dick jump, and I know for sure it’s time to go.

  I pull the door closed and run down the stairs. I set the alarm and lock every entrance before leaving. I have Gio standing guard, but it’s not enough, so I shoot off a text to Roman.

  Swing by my place and hang tight until I get back, okay? Gio is here but I need more eyes on Heaven. Be invisible.

  A few seconds later, he replies that he’s on his way.

  Gio stands in front of the Escalade and I clap him on the shoulder. “I’m going to be out for a little while.”

  “You need a ride?” He pulls out the keys but I shake my head, nodding toward my blacked-out Lambo truck.

  “Nah, I’m driving. You stay here. Keep your eyes on everything, Gio,” I give him a long look and he visibly shudders.

  Another reason why I’m calling for Roman. I’ve already seen firsthand today that my trusted inner circle is not as trustworthy as I’d thought.

  Now it’s time for the shakedown.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into the parking lot in the basement of a building I own in the Meatpacking District. I have several ‘offices’ throughout lower Manhattan, but this is where I handle human resource-type issues, like beating the fuck out of a soldier who defied a direct order.