A Kingpin Love Affair (A Kingpin Love Affair #1-5) Read online

  I take the stairs two at a time, and at the top, Mack greets me to give me a report.

  “What happened?” I furiously demand. I’m back in mob boss mode.

  “Someone jumped the fence in the back yard. The silent alarm went off,” Mack explains, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “To the office. I can’t believe you weren’t watching the fucking cameras,” I growl. There should be no reason to need me, I train these men to deal with these issues.

  “We were sir, we didn’t see…”

  “Then you go out there and check it out. There isn’t any reason you should need me unless you don’t have the situation under control?” I question him, wondering if he really has the situation under control. Luccio’s words ring in my ear to watch my back, to protect myself.

  “Sir…” Mack tries to get in, but I turn on him. In a second, my hands are wrapping around his throat. He might be bigger than I, but I am faster.

  Leaning into his face, making sure he can hear and see every word coming from my mouth, I spit at him, “You have one job, Mack. One job. If you can’t do your job, then what fucking good are you to me or this family?”

  I have known him a long time, yet have never before seen the anger that is now showing in his eyes.

  “If you would just fuck the bitch in the basement and then kill her, maybe your head would be where it’s supposed to be.” My hand clenches tighter around his throat as my patience for bullshit flies out the window.

  “She is mine to do with as I please. I wasn’t aware that you had a problem with her. Do you have a problem?” My eyes narrow as his face grows blue in color. I know if I don’t let up soon, he will be out. It doesn’t matter how big you are, if you lose air supply, you will be out for the count.

  When he doesn’t answer me, I squeeze harder, my fingers digging into his flesh. Nothing matters to me anymore, or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. His eyes bulge out of his head and I can hear his body gasping for even the tiniest shred of oxygen. The noise pulls me from my mind, and I release him. I am a monster, a horrible person, but I am above killing my own kind.

  He sucks in a breath and then another as he stands there, the life coming back to his eyes.

  “Would you have really killed me over such a pathetic question?” he asks in between breaths. I ignore his question and head straight to the security room. No one is manning the desk. Fiery rage fills me. What is the use if no one is here to fucking do as I say?

  Letting it go for the time being, I focus my attention on the monitors. The cameras don’t show a disturbance, but the alarm is going off which means even if the intruders aren’t seen, they are still out there.

  “Fuck…” I pound my fist against the table. Mack is right. She is getting under my skin. She is distracting me. Making me think crazy fucking things. Things that I can never, nor should I ever, be thinking about.

  I need to handle this on my own. Hitting myself on the head a few times, I feel as if everything is finally back into place. I head toward the back door and out into the darkness. I am a hunter searching for his prey. My eyes adjust to the darkness, and my body fills with tension as I ready myself for a fight.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” I demand, my voice that of someone I don’t even know. The wind blows, and the moon shines brightly down on me as I stare up at it. How confused and fucked up am I?

  A twig snapping in the distance brings me from my thoughts, and it is then that I see the shadow of a man looming by the perimeter wall. If he thinks he is getting away, he has another thing coming.

  With precise movements, quietly and stealthily, I sneak up on him. His frame is large, but from his heavy breathing, I can tell it isn’t muscle he is carrying around.

  The moon illuminates the sky, but not enough for me to get a good look at the guy. Crossing the short distance that stands between us, I reach out and grab his shoulder, turning him around quickly and pushing his body against the brick wall.

  Reaching for my gun on reflex, I realize I have forgotten to grab it. I never forget to grab it. Her.

  Ah. Fuck it. Hand to hand it is. Looking at the guy, I am not really worried. His face is heavy, and his eyes hold a secret that I plan on getting out of him.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I growl. I am six…five…no, about one second away from ripping his fucking face off.

  “I…” he stutters. I can see the fear, and feel it coming off him. I may have even got a whiff of piss.

  “Did you just piss your pants?” I yell in his face. Spit escapes my mouth and clings to his face. He doesn’t even move to wipe it away.

  A whimper escapes his lips, but that isn’t good enough for me. A whimper isn’t an answer.

  “I’m going to ask you nicely one more time. WHO THE FUCK SENT YOU?” My words vibrate within me. My teeth clench as my body begs to unleash hell on this fucker’s ass.

  “I work….” Well, we are making progress - two fucking words is better than one, but it isn’t the answer I want.

  Gripping him by the throat, I rip the knife from my ankle where I always keep it and press it firmly against his throat. Blood trickles from the cut, but I am not done. I will be bathing in his blood by the end of this if he doesn’t provide me with answers.

  “Tell me…” I snarl, pushing the knife in with more force. His eyes wide and his breaths become pants. He is going to have a heart attack if I don’t kill him soon.

  “Luccio,” he says the name as if it is one he knows well. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to determine if he is in fact telling the truth. Luccio had been the very person to warn me… Could he be the person who set me up to begin with?

  “What about him? Tell me everything or so help me fucking God, I will cut your throat open and watch you suffocate.” Each word is something I mean. I don’t make promises, I just do it.

  “I work with him…” Tilting my head at him, I grip his shoulder harder. “What are you doing on my property?”

  “I can’t tell you…”

  “Well, that’s a shame then…” Taking the knife, I slide it across his throat. Blood pools from him as if he is a leaky faucet. I watch the life leave his eyes as his last breaths are nothing but gurgles. Then I bend down, place a kiss against his forehead and go on with my way. I will find out who it is he worked for and what they wanted.

  Chapter Six

  Bree

  “Let me the fuck out of here!” I scream as my hands grip the bars with a ferociousness that hurts my skin. I have been locked down in this hell hole for days. The only way I can tell if it is day or night is from the small tiny window placed above my cell that has bars across it.

  The only things that can be heard are my pointless pleas for release. Zerro said he would come back, but that was two days ago. Two fucking days I have sat down here waiting and silently hoping for him to come. Then again, at the mere mention of his name, I want to gouge his eyes out.

  He causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach, but at the same time he makes me want to puke. The thought of being attracted to him—wanting him—makes me sick. How can I want such a heartless killer? It’s as if God is playing a cruel game with my emotions.

  Since listening to my own pleas is exasperating, I pull myself away from the bars and throw myself onto the makeshift bed. There is no way out of this hell hole other than through the door that I obviously don’t have a key to. Mack hasn’t come down to check on me for hours, but I am relieved about that. He scares me and creeps me out. I know if given the chance, he would fuck me and then kill me without a second thought.

  When he came down the time before last, his neck had purple bruises on it. He looked as if he had been choked, but I was not going to ask him about it. I don’t think Zerro has it in him to kill his own kind, family or friends. It doesn’t seem like something he would do.

  Neither does keeping me alive, but here I am. He has yet to hurt me, at least in a manner that makes it so he is actually doing so. The bruise on my face i
sn’t okay with me, but it is completely different than being beaten. He hasn’t touched me, and mostly everything he does is a mind game…

  I am not afraid that a part of me wants him. It is a dark part of me, something that craves the fear and darkness that only he can bring out in me. I am not stupid, though. I know the path that he is on that will only lead to death. I don’t want that, I want to live. I want to be happy and go to college and grow old with someone who loves me.

  The very thoughts make me think of my mother and the days before she died. She begged me to make promises to her. They were petty, little things, but I agreed to them simply to put her mind at ease. She was already going through so much, and if making a promise made her day better and brought the life back into her, I would do it.

  My mind drifts to the most important promise I made. . .

  “Promise me. Promise me, that you’ll take care of your father… He’s a man, a stubborn one, but with your guidance he can move on.” Pain showed in her eyes, and I knew how hard it was for her to ask me to do something like that. She had always been the one to carry the weight, the one who made sure everything was okay.

  With tears in my eyes, I promised her. “I promise, Mom. I promise to keep him in line.” She smiled at me gently. I cursed God, wondering how he could take such a precious person from us. My mother must have noticed my pulling away because she spoke to me with so much love that I was shaken to the core.

  “Don’t fret, child. I will always be here. Right in there…” She pointed to my heart. She had given me life, had shown me the meaning of love through her relationship with my father, and I had always thought she would be here.

  “When you get lost or you’re worried and you don’t know what choice to make, listen to your heart. I’m in there, and I’ll guide you the best that I can. Remember that…”

  Her words still echo in my mind as I pull myself from the sad memories. Tears form behind my eyes, and although I am not afraid to cry as I know it doesn’t mean I am weak, I don’t want to. I don’t want to cry over my mom or over the debt I am paying in my father’s name. I want to smile, to be happy and move on from all of this. Someday I will. At least I keep telling myself that. For now I will have to deal. It doesn’t stop me from wondering what my mom would think, though.

  What is my father doing right now? My heart tightens as I think of him all alone. Will Zerro let me call him? Let me check up on him? Will Zerro even let me go after all this? Doubts swarm me, fear owns me, and courage is the only thing keeping me going.

  I burrow myself into my blanket as I let the doubts eat away at me. I can’t run, or I will die. Zerro has threatened me, and I know that it isn’t an open-ended threat. Wait…

  A light bulb goes off in my mind. What if I turn the gun on him? What if I take him out before he can take me out? My heart rate skyrockets at the mere thought of shooting him. It isn’t fair that he can point a gun at me and feel nothing. If it were me, I wouldn’t have pointed it at him at all.

  A clicking sound startles me as the door to my cell opens. Mack walks inside looking as if he would rather stab needles through his eyes than come and deal with me.

  “Get up.” His voice is gruff and is full of hateful promises. I know he will hurt me if I don’t listen to him.

  I stand up slowly. My body aches with all the emotions that have been swirling through me. Living in this house gives me a serious case of whiplash. Just as I steady myself, the asshole grips me by the arm, pulling me into his body.

  “If it weren’t for your pathetic ass, his head would be in the game.” Mack wants me to hate him, to feel his anger. I can see it in his eyes, and feel it in the way he grabs me. I want to bite my tongue, and I probably should, but something beyond me thinks it will be a good idea to talk back.

  “His head is clearly in the fucking game, asshole. He killed a room full of people, and you didn’t so much as blink.” I glare at him, my blood running cold.

  A wicked smile pulls at his lips. It’s one that causes my knees to rattle and my stomach to heave. I wish I could smack the look right off his face.

  “Has he tried you out yet?” His hand travels down to my ass as he grips it harshly. I pull away from him quickly, knowing that’s the last thing he expects. He will never think of me running or fighting back.

  Running through the door, I go down the hall and head for the steps that lead to the first floor. I hear his heavy footfalls behind me as I look around in terror.

  “When I get my hands on you… I’ll kill you myself.” His voice sounds as if it’s right on top of me. Not a moment later, the air shoved from my chest as I land against the stairs. His body is against mine, and I can feel his erection against my backside.

  “Get the hell off me!” I scream. Gripping me by the arm, he twirls me around, his body pushed against mine again as he stares into my eyes. All I can think is I can’t let him do this to me, I have to get away. I push against him with all my might, but my arms are pinned, and my body is exhausted.

  “Give up yet?” His breath is hot against my skin, and it feels wrong. All of it is wrong, but there’s nothing that I can do about it. He nips at my neck as his hand begins to slip into my pants. I shake my head back and forth, trying to make myself forget, trying to remove myself from the situation.

  With the last of my strength, I scream. I scream until tears are streaming down my face until my voice is hoarse, and he’s telling me if I don’t shut up that he’ll gut me.

  The door above us is open, so I know someone has to have heard us. Footsteps fall on the floor as I hear someone coming. Zerro’s coming, he’s going to save me! It’s going to be okay…

  An older woman peers down at us. Her face contorts into anger as she descends the steps. Her words come out in a dialect that I don’t understand… It sounds Italian, but I’m not sure.

  Whatever she says has Mack backing away from me. His eyes eat me, though. The way he’s looking at me tells me that he’ll be back to do what he wants when he gets me alone.

  “Come, Piccolo.” Her hands are gentle, and her voice soothes me. Tears spring from my eyes, and I grab her, wrapping my arms around her small frame. She’s my savior, my saint.

  In the haze of it all, all I can focus on is that word. The one Zerro always calls me.

  “What does that mean?” I ask between sniffles. She smiles at me softly. The kind of smile my mom used to give me.

  Her frail fingers reach out, pushing loose strands of my hair behind my ear. “It means little one in Italian.” Her voice is heavily accented, and as I listen to it, I want her to say something again. The way the words sound and come together is soothing to my shattered soul.

  I look back down the stairs where I was just assaulted. Mack had already left, completely enraged as he stomped off. I promise myself when he comes for me again, I will be ready.

  “Let’s get you some food.” My face softens as I take her hand, letting her lead me to the safety and comfort of the kitchen.

  *

  Dinner is delicious. Adaline, Addy as she likes to be called, is the head maid in the house. She has been here long before Zerro’s time, and the stories she shares with me make me forget all about the horrific things that could’ve taken place just hours before.

  Afterward, I slip upstairs, making sure I watch over my shoulder at every turn. Not that I want to, but I am not going to be taken off guard by Mack again. I will tell Zerro whenever he gets back from wherever it is he went. I really, really don’t want to fucking care about him or care about whatever it is he’s doing. Except as I crawl into his bed, all I can do is see him, smell him, taste him. I feel the weight of his body on mine, his lips on my skin, and relish the passion and fire he stokes within me.

  As soon as I close my eyes, I hear the front door open. Laughter and greetings sound, and then it is quiet. Footsteps follow suit, and then Zerro makes his appearance. He bursts through the bedroom door. His eyes are slightly glazed, but he mostly looks tired. I hear laughter aga
in as he turns around to talk to someone in the hall.

  “Goodnight, Alassandra.” His voice is velvety soft when he says her name, and I won’t be fucking surprised if she has her legs spread, begging for him. His voice just has that effect.

  The girl says something back that I can’t hear before he closes the door and turns around and sees me. Shock shows first and then something else. That same thing I saw before.

  “Who let you out?” He completely ignores my presence as he takes a drink from the glass in his hand. There is no hi, hello, how the fuck are you. He doesn’t even point a gun at me. To be honest, I am kind of pissed. I so badly want to throw in his face what Mack did to me, but I don’t think it will matter to him. He won’t care. After all, I am nothing to him but a debt.

  “I’m not a fucking dog.” I try my hardest to sound mean. I want to lash out at him with words because let’s face it, I won’t ever be able to hurt him physically. Mentally, though…I can do that. I can break him down, cut him, turn him inside out, just like he does to me.

  “I didn’t refer to you as a dog, now did I?” His smirk says asshole, but his body says I can have you if I want you. I hate it. I love it. I really want to shoot him.

  “Where were you?” I ask, changing the subject. I know it sounds like a typical housewife to be asking where he was, and since we aren’t anything, I have no real reason to know. Except I want to know.

  He smiles, and his eyebrow raises. I am afraid he won’t tell me since there are numerous things I know he has to be keeping from me.

  “Jealously doesn’t really suit you… “

  “You don’t know what suits me,” I point out, pursing my lips

  He covers the distance between us. I am still lying in his bed, surrounded by his scent. I am drowning in a sea of Alzerro King.

  I smell the bourbon from his drink as he swirls the brown liquid in his glass. The motion mesmerizes me, putting me in a trance. The liquid sloshes over the side, and eventually he brings the glass to his lips, drinking from it. His lips lick at his drink as if he wants to get every last drop.