The Devious King: A Mafia Romance (The Hale Mafia Book 1)

by BL Mute

  He steps further into the room and closes the door behind him. “Not in the mood?” he questions. “I’m not in the mood either, but we need to discuss what happened.” The veins in his neck throb as he speaks. I can tell he is pissed, but he’s doing his best to hold it together.

  “What is there to discuss? You wanted me here to protect you, or so you say, then you want to get all hot and bothered when I do it. How was I supposed to know him reaching for a gun was normal, that it was one of your ‘rules’?” I make air quotations with my fingers. “I told you that I needed to know what is going on and how shit is done. You’re the one who chose not to tell me,” I spit.

  He throws his head back and lets out a wicked laugh. “You’re really testing my patience, Charlotte.”

  I sit on the edge of my bed and start undoing the straps on my shoes. He’s called me Monkshood or Charlie since the day I’ve been here, and now he wants to use my full name? I almost feel like a pissed-off child.

  Letting my anger and frustration take over, I slip my right shoe off and throw it toward his head. He leans to the side, quickly dodging my heel. It slams into the wall with a loud bang, and instantaneously, I regret my decision.

  He moves his eyes to mine slowly and treks toward me even slower. His hands curl into fists at his side as his husky chest heaves quickly.

  He stops in front of me, and suddenly I feel small. Smaller than an insect under his massive body. “I have brought many grown men to their knees. I have stalked, fought, and killed even more. What makes you think I wouldn’t do the same to you?” he whispers, leaning down in front of me, keeping his head just an inch above mine.

  “You will never, never, get me to my knees. You don’t own me, and you sure as hell don’t tell me what to do,” I reply.

  “If you want what I can get—” He moves his hand to my shoulder, sweeping my hair behind me. “—you will do what I want. I didn’t come here to fight or argue, but you’re making it hard.”

  I sit motionless and silent, letting my heartbeat throb in my ears. I shouldn’t like him this close. I shouldn’t want him to touch me more. I should scream and claw his face, but my body doesn’t move. It just sits there uselessly as my brain screams danger.

  Teddy trails his hand to my collarbone and grins as my breath hitches. He continues slowly, finally landing on my throat. His fingers wrap around and dig into the sides of my neck gently. “I could kill you,” he hisses.

  “You won’t,” I whisper.

  Suddenly, all the fight in me melts away, and I know he sees it. Feeling his hands on me does nothing but add to the lust I’ve tried to suppress. I shouldn’t want him. He’s bad and I know it, but my body wins the battle with my mind. He keeps his eyes on me, letting his other hand drift to my knee. He rakes his fingers slowly up my thigh, pushing up the bottom of my dress as he goes. I try to close my legs and tell myself this isn’t right, but his hand tightens around my neck, and his knees move in between mine to stop me.

  His face is less than an inch from mine, but he won’t close the gap. I try to look down, but his hand tightens again, warning me to stay where I am. His eyes bore into mine as his fingers move up further and further until they graze the front of my lace panties. My legs fall further open on instinct, and my heart beats faster. My face grows hot as every nerve ending in my body screams.

  Teddy tilts his head to the side, studying my face closely as he pushes the fabric out of the way and slides a single finger into me. I bite my lip and dig my fingers into the soft comforter under me. He starts slowly, only building rhythm when my breath comes out in short, quick puffs. I grind myself into him as his thumb circles my clit and he adds another finger.

  “I told you not to do that,” he whispers, removing his hand from my neck for only a second to tug my lip from my teeth.

  So close. So close. So close, I chant in my head, ready to explode around him.

  He steps back, giving me more room to move. My body slips from the edge of my bed and sags beneath him as he kneels in front of me, never slowing his assault. I grab at his shoulders and cry out, but my climax never comes. Just as quickly as it all started, it’s over. Teddy removes his fingers and stands over me. “What was that about me never getting you to your knees?” He smiles and adjusts the large bulge in the front of his pants before licking the same fingers that were in me. “Good night, Monkshood. Sleep well.”

  As he starts to walk out of my room, I slip my other shoe off, ready to hurl it at his head the same way I did the other, but the door closes too fast, and my shoe hits it with less effort than the other.

  “Fuck you, Teddy!” I scream before crawling into my bed and hiding under the covers.

  Sleep never came last night. I tossed and turned with pictures of Teddy floating through my mind. I should hate him, but the truth is, I don’t. I want more of what he almost gave me, but I’ll never admit it.

  I throw my hair into a high ponytail and slip on my Nikes before leaving my room. Carl came in and told me this morning Lucas wants to train more. I could use the distraction and a target to take my frustration out on.

  I step into the gym and take a deep breath. Lucas is nowhere to be seen, but that’s not going to stop me from starting. I walk to the punching bag hanging from the ceiling to the left and stare at it for a second. The red leather glistens in the bright fluorescent lights. I grip the sides of it and rest my head on the front. I hate feeling so angry over something so stupid.

  If someone were to ask me how I pictured my life now a year ago, my answer definitely wouldn’t be what it is. I would have my dad here, I wouldn’t be mixed up with the Mafia, and I most definitely wouldn’t be aching to have the most dangerous one of them all touch me.

  I lift my head, and all my anger and frustration bubbles out of me. I swing over and over, connecting with the bag every time, sending it swaying after every hit.

  “Damn, girl. What has you so agitated?”

  I don’t need to turn to know whose voice that is. “Don’t start with me today, Lucas. I’m not in the mood for your sarcastic comments and bullshit.”

  He chuckles. “Not in the mood? Funny, I heard you were in the mood last night.”

  I turn quickly and see him standing tall in basketball shorts and no shirt with Julius to his side in matching clothes. Colorful ink paints their exposed skin, and if I wasn’t so pissed, I feel I could maybe appreciate their allure, but instead, I’m completely mortified. Why would Teddy tell them what happened?

  He spreads his legs wider, like he’s ready for the fight I’m about to give. “What’s the matter, Flower? Did you really think anything that happens behind closed doors stays that way around here?”

  I charge toward him, ready to arrange his pretty face into a Picasso painting. Before I can close the gap between us, Julius throws up his big arm directly to his side, protecting his brother. My neck is the only thing that touches him, but it sends me crumbling to the floor.

  I cough, trying to clear my airway, but it does nothing. After a few seconds I can finally speak again and take in small breaths of air. “Did you seriously just clothesline me? What is this, WWE?” I question with a gasp.

  Julius laughs while Lucas stares down on me with a matching smile. He shrugs. “Boss said do whatever it takes to get you mad. Truth be told, he didn’t tell us anything. But I’m sure everyone in the house heard how you screamed, and a scream like that can only mean one thing.”

  I stumble to my feet. “Fuck this place. I’m done.” I turn and walk away with my hand on my throat.

  When I don’t hear footsteps behind me, I hurry my pace. I know it won’t be long before they tell Teddy, and I’ll be damned if he tries to get me to stay. I don’t even want to see his face.

  I sprint back to my room and close the door softly behind me. I grab my comb from the bathroom, then make my way toward the closet. I slip my T shirt I wore here off the hanger, then dig through the drawer to find my sweats. Once everything is in my hands, I pull open my door
and start down the hall. Making it to the front door, I stop and take one last look behind me. I wish they never took my gun from me last night. It’s the only thing of mine I’ll be leaving here. I shake my head and pull open the door. At the end of the steps, Carl is waiting by the SUV.

  I try not to make eye contact with him, but I fail. The warm smile he always seems to wear is there, and he’s looking directly at me. “Get in, Charlotte. I was instructed to take you home.”

  My jaw goes slack as I look around for any sign of Teddy or the twins. “They’re just letting me go?”

  He nods. “If it is what you want.”

  I bite my lip and quickly let it fall from my teeth as Teddy’s words echo in my mind. “Okay” is all I can manage to say.

  I slide into the car and throw my things onto the floor as Carl gets in and starts the engine.

  “Are you sure you want to go?” he asks, putting it into drive but not moving.

  I look to the front door and study all its features one last time. “I’m sure.” I owe nothing to anyone here, and I refuse to be their puppet anymore.

  Carl nods and starts down the long drive. Once we reach the guard shack, I take one last look behind me. I want him to be there, to be watching, begging me with his eyes not to go, but he isn’t. It was stupid of me to ever think he would care about me. Hell, I don’t even care about him. I wanted to use him the same way he planned to use me.

  I turn back around as the car creeps forward and out the gate. Resting my head on the back of the seat, I close my eyes and picture everything that happened last night. Anger floods me again, but I don’t let it get to me. He is nothing, I tell myself.

  The rest of the ride is the same as any other time I’ve been in the car. Quiet. Normally it wouldn’t bother me, but something about it just irks me. That seems to happen a lot lately. Being in my own mind kills me. I have so many unanswered questions and no leads, and it’s frustrating. With sound, I can drown out my own thoughts. I’m not left to fester on the what-ifs.

  Finally, Carl pulls up to the curb next to my apartment. He looks over his shoulder and smiles.

  “Thank you, Carl. It was nice meeting you,” I say, opening the door.

  “Until next time, Charlotte.” He nods.

  I let out a small laugh. “I don’t think there will be a next time.”

  I step out of the car and walk to the bottom of my steps. Carl watches me from the driver’s side and makes no move to leave. I shake my head and roll my eyes in his direction before turning up my steps.

  I’ve always loved my place. It isn’t anything fancy, and my neighbors are nice, but something about the breezeway feels different. I walk further down until I’m at my door. It’s wide open, and I can hear someone inside. Instinctively I reach for my gun, but it isn’t there.

  “Fuck,” I curse under my breath.

  I step through the door and look around. Everything still seems to be in its place. The chain is still attached to its nook and hanging on the door from when Lucas busted in. The Monkshood flowers are on my table, wilted and dying, and my living room is still a wreck with a few clothes scattering the floor and stacks of books on my coffee table.

  Once I’m satisfied no one is in the main areas, I walk toward my bedroom. I see a tall man with sandy hair going through my drawers. His back is to me, but I know I won’t win a fight. His muscles are rigid and large under his shirt, and he has a good foot of height over me. It won’t stop me from trying though.

  I pull my comb from the pile in my hands and hold it with its point up and quietly set down everything else. “Who are you?” I blurt, ready for the man to turn around and charge me.

  He turns, letting me see his face.

  “What the actual fuck, Cameron!” I scream. “I could have killed you!”

  Relief floods me when I see it’s him, but after the adrenaline of it dies down, dread starts to creep in. I’ve always had a disdain for him. I’ve never been able to put my finger on why, but seeing him dig in my panty drawer does nothing but solidify my feelings.

  “Charlie!” he exclaims. “Where have you been? Sloan said he hasn’t seen you for a couple of days and was worried. I was coming to check in.”

  I suck my teeth. I never see Sloan on a regular basis. Why would he be worried that I haven’t been around? I could understand if maybe we talked every day, but we don’t. I study Cameron’s face to see if I can pick up on a lie. Does he believe what he’s saying, like any liar would, or does he really think Sloan is worried?

  Ah, there it is. He won’t look me in the eye, and his hand twitches the slightest bit like he’s waiting for me to say something, anything, to let him know I believe him.

  He isn’t in uniform, but there is still a gun tucked into the front of his pants. With the angle, I can see scratches and small gashes in the metal where a serial number would be. “Packing when you aren’t in uniform? Kind of bold, don’t you think.”

  He looks to his piece and pulls his shirt to cover it, then back to me. “Well, I wasn’t sure what I would find here. I wanted to be prepared.”

  Normally a cop would carry their service weapon. Sure, they shouldn’t use it, but what cop do you know that carries a Beretta with the serial number scratched off?

  I look around my room nonchalantly, trying to pick up anything that may be out of place. From what I can see, everything is fine. “Tell Sloan I’m fine. And next time, maybe try to pick up a phone.” I point behind me with my thumb, telling him to leave without saying the words.

  His eyes bounce around the room quickly before he steps toward the door. “Sure thing. Glad you’re okay, Charlie.”

  I watch as he disappears out of my front door. After a few seconds, I peek out into the hallway and see him going down the stairs. I close my door, then bolt back to my room. Him being in my drawer isn’t a big deal. Hell, he could have stolen all my panties for all I care, but I had something in there I didn’t want anyone to know about.

  I dig through the piles of already messed-up Victoria’s Secret panties until I finally find what I’m looking for. It’s a key I found in my dad’s personal items. The morgue gave it to me after their examination. I never figured out where it went and didn’t want to ask around. Something in my gut told me someone would want the key, so I’ve always hidden it. To know Cameron was so close to finding it does nothing but make me want to vomit.

  I sink to my floor and grip it to my chest before letting tears flow down my face. Cameron is the least of my worries. I want to know what happened to my dad, but I just pissed away the only help I would ever get. I try to justify my leaving, but there is nothing to make it better. I know if it was the other way around, my dad would have stuck it out for me. He would fight and do whatever it took to figure out what happened to me, and I need to do the same.

  I stand from my floor and wipe the tears from my face. I know what I need to do. I take one last look around, then run back to my front door and down the stairs, but pause before I reach the bottom. I hate Teddy, but he’s right. I’ll do whatever he wants to get answers. But first I want to make him fester and question things the same way I have been. I’m not going to run back to him right away.

  My mind is filled with turmoil. I should have never let her leave, but I need her to trust me. I can see now that I have come to need her just as much as she needs me, but I can’t let her know that. Sometimes knowledge isn’t power, and it’s best to be left in the dark. I wish she would understand that.

  The cartel will never expect a woman to be my right hand. They’re considered too weak and fragile. Their culture believes that women are too pure for what we do. Little do they know, I’d put her up against their most deadly hitman and I know she’d walk away.

  “We need her back!” I shout at the twins.

  It’s been three days. Three. Fucking. Days. I’m done waiting.

  Lucas, for once, is serious. His usual smirk has been replaced with a worrisome face. He has his doubts, I can tell, yet he tries his
best to reassure me. “I know, boss, and we will get her back. What do you want us to do? Storm the place again?”

  “No. It will do nothing but piss her off even more.” I pace the length of the kitchen counter, running my hands over the smooth granite. “Any ideas? Have you heard from Carl?” I stop and look at Julius. He’s never been one for conversation, but somewhere in his absence of talking, his mind still turns at full speed and conjures up the best plans.

  He looks to me for a second before reaching into his pocket for the phone I gave him months ago. He studies the small screen like he’s reading for a second before going to a blank screen and typing a single emoji. He flashes it in my direction.

  “That’s it? A thumbs-up?” Before I can question further, he nudges his head behind him, pointing with his chin toward the hall.

  I look at him with a raised brow, then go to the hallway. As my feet stop in the hallway, the front door opens and Charlie walks in followed by Carl. I had him sit at her place to make sure she was okay. I wanted him to be inconspicuous, but it looks like he doesn’t know the definition of the word.

  I eye him, and he shrugs. “She saw me as soon as she came out, then insisted on driving that piece-of-shit GTO back here. I wasn’t about to argue with her.” He holds up his hands.

  I shake my head and look to Charlie. I study her body for a brief moment. My dick twitches at the sight of her, and my stomach stirs. Her chestnut hair is loose and falling around her face in waves, the tight black leggings on her legs are doing everything I wish I could, and the loose shirt she wears trying to hide herself does just that, almost. I can see her nipples pressed against the thin fabric begging to be touched. I try to bury all the erotic fantasies swirling within my mind for a moment and bring my eyes to meet hers.

  There is something different about them. They are swollen and puffy. Small bags appear under the skin, and they are lightly coated by scattered smudges of mascara. The sea of green, which normally outshines an emerald, is clouded by bulging and expanded veins, adding a hint of red to the palette of colors. It’s obvious she’s been crying, and I want to hurt whoever made her sad. Hurt may be too light of a word—I want to kill them and deliver their head to their mother’s front door.