The King's Pawn: The Complete King Crime Family Duet Read online

  Contents

  Holding You

  Prologue

  1. Enzo

  2. Amara

  3. Amara

  4. Enzo

  5. Amara

  6. Enzo

  7. Enzo

  8. Amara

  9. Enzo

  10. Amara

  11. Enzo

  12. Amara

  13. Enzo

  14. Amara

  15. Amara

  16. Enzo

  17. Amara

  18. Enzo

  19. Amara

  20. Enzo

  21. Enzo

  22. Amara

  23. Amara

  24. Enzo

  25. Amara

  26. Enzo

  27. Amara

  28. Mack

  29. Amara

  30. Enzo

  31. Amara

  32. Enzo

  33. Amara

  34. Mack

  35. Enzo

  36. Amara

  37. Enzo

  38. Mack

  39. Amara

  40. Amara

  41. Enzo

  42. Amara

  43. Enzo

  44. Amara

  Extended Epilogue

  Savage Beginnings Sneak Peek

  About the Authors

  Also by the Authors

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  Crazy Daisy is what they used to call her, beautiful but deranged. She was the prey to every bully in our school... including me.

  After graduating Blackthorn, I thought I’d never see her again, then she walked into the fundraiser my father was putting on and I couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

  I’d always wanted her, but never acted on my feelings.

  Now was the time to claim her, but there was something standing in our way… her father and a secret I never saw coming.

  ***This is a standalone novella ending in an HEA.***

  Copyright © 2020 by Beck & Hallman LLC

  Editing by Kelly Allenby

  Cover design by C. Hallman

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Prologue

  Enzo

  Past

  “Momma!” My body shakes with every breath. I can’t find her even though I heard her scream. I have never heard my mother scream like that before.

  I run through the house I’ve lived in my whole life and feel disoriented, like I’m in some kind of alternate universe. Everything feels wrong.

  My stomach is twisted in knots as fear courses through me. Maybe the maid just snuck up on her?

  I circle down the stairs and down the hall to her room. I am just outside her door when I hear her scream again.

  “Just take me! Leave my son alone!” She cries out.

  I want to run to her, to hold and protect her. Something was holding me in place, though. Something told me to be quiet and stay put. I know if whoever has my momma saw me, they’d take me.

  Where are the guards? Why are they not saving her?

  “We don’t want you. We came here for the boy, and that’s who we are leaving with.”

  What do they want with me? I’m only a ten-year-old kid.

  “You are useless to us now,” another man says as if he is disgusted with my mom’s offer. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I continue to listen to her pleas.

  “The boy is ours,” the first man says.

  Then I hear it, the last plea leaving my mother’s lips, her last cry, begging for my life.

  Bang.

  I flinch and stumble backward. Both of my hands come up to cover my mouth to keep from screaming. A gun had gone off, the sound echoing through the house and reverberating through me.

  One shot that will forever change my life by taking away the only person I loved, the only person who loved me.

  “Remove her body from the house. I don’t want the boy to find it.”

  At the man’s words, I feel like my heart stops beating in my chest. My mother. My beautiful, kind, and loving mother.

  Why had these people killed her?

  For a moment, I was frozen, unable to move my body. It was as if my limbs were petrified. Maybe I was in shock.

  Only when I heard men approaching did my survival instinct kick in. My mother died protecting me. I will not let her death be in vain.

  I turn on my heels as the man’s voice comes closer to the door. Everything in me screams the need to run, to hide. I can’t let them see me, and I didn’t want to see them.

  I run up the stairs to my room as fast as I can, where I shut the door and lock it. I know it will do no good against their guns, but I had to try. Whoever they are, they are bad men.

  Not even a minute later, the door handle shakes. My body quakes in fear as I take as many steps away from it as I can.

  I can hear the wood splintering against the weight of whoever is on the other side. Looking around the room, I can’t think of a place to hide.

  Then my eyes land on the closet. I scurry across the floor, my socks causing me to slide and fall. I just manage to close the closet door when the door to my room comes crashing down. Fear is rooted deep within my body, making it impossible for me to move.

  The small crack in the closed door lets me see a sliver of the room.

  Two men, covered in black from head to toe, walk into my room. Their bodies are bigger than anyone I have ever seen. I want to be strong like my father always told me to be, but I don’t know how. I don’t want them to find me.

  “Where is he?” one man says in frustration as he whips the mattress from my bed. I watch as they rip my room to shreds. As they come closer to the door, I push further back into the closet until I come to the wall.

  I had to figure something out—my life depends on it. I feel along the wall to see if there are any hidden passages. I remember all the times my mother and I played hide and seek. I was always trying to find the best hiding spots. My momma always pretended she couldn’t find me.

  Then I remembered—the secret hiding spot.

  Running my fingers over the wall, I search frantically over the wood paneling until I find the little latch that lets me open the door.

  Pulling on it quietly, I crawl into the space. It is a very small area, but I manage to sit down. The men’s footsteps grow closer with every passing second, and my heart is beating so fast I can feel it racing inside my chest.

  Slowly, I close the door, locking myself inside the hiding spot quietly. I know if I make a mistake, I’ll be found.

  My hands are sweating and shaking, and I feel like puking. I want to run to my mom, I want to be enveloped in the safety of her loving arms. But I know I’ll never feel her warmth again, and that hurt so badly. It brakes my heart.

  Tears slip from my eyes and run down my face. I let them go freely, knowing no one will see.

  I hear the bad men enter the closet. The door flies open and hits the wall with a fierceness that shakes me to my core. The sounds of them ripping down my clothes from the hangers and throwing my boxes of prized possessions across the room fills the space.

  “He’s not fucking here,” one of them growls. I listen to them shuffle around in my room as I force my breaths to slow down. The darkness surrounds me, banishing all the light that I had in my life.

  A million questions run through my mind all at once. How could these people come
into my house and kill my wonderful mother? What did they want from me? How did they get in here? Who else did they kill? We had security, didn’t we? Where are the maids? Were the bad people still here? Why did they leave me all alone?

  As the house settles and the events filter through my mind, I continue to sit in the small crawl space in the dark. I am terrified to leave and discover that my life really has been ripped away.

  I don’t know how long I sit in the darkness, but at some point, a steely resolve settles in my heart and soul as I make a promise to my mother.

  Someday, when I’m a grown-up, I will make those bad men pay. I will find them and hurt them like they hurt my mother.

  They owe me their lives, and I will make sure they pay their debt.

  1

  Enzo

  Present

  I watch him squirm in his seat. He is nervous. I can smell it on him. His eyes watch me carefully, trying to figure out what I will do next.

  “You realize that borrowing money from the mafia without the intent of paying it back is the same as saying, come and get me, I’m ready to die?” I keep my voice calm and cool. I could mean business without showing it. That’s how I work.

  “Enzo, I thought I could pay you back. I swear! I thought I could get a second job, but I haven’t had any luck. I keep trying. I’ll come up with the money…” His voice is shaky and broken, he is so scared he can barely utter a word. I don’t care about his excuses for not having his payment. I only care about him giving me my money, even if that means I have to do something ugly to get it.

  “Lorenzo,” I correct him. I hate it when people who don’t know or care about me call me Enzo.

  My closest friends and family were the only ones allowed that privilege. When it comes to business, you call me by my full name out of respect.

  “Lorenzo,” he quickly sputters. His chest is heaving and sweat forms on his forehead. I can tell he thinks he is going to die, and he will eventually, but dead men can’t pay.

  So, I have something else in store for him right now. I want my money back, and I will do whatever is necessary to get it.

  “I was afraid this would happen, so I went out of my way to dig up some dirt on you… Guess what I discovered? I found out you have a daughter. A very, young, naïve, innocent, daughter. I bet she’s very capable of handling dear old dad’s debt, don’t you think?” My voice is sinister, calm, and deadly. His face is a mask of confusion until what I’ve said hits him square in the chest.

  “No. Please. Amara has already suffered and lost so much. I borrowed the money for her to go off to college and lead a normal life…”

  “So it’s really her debt to pay anyway?” I raise my eyebrows at him as I question his words.

  His eyes bulge out of his face in shock. “No! No! This is my debt to pay, not hers. Please, I beg of you. Please, don’t bring her into this.” His features pale as his eyes brim with tears. He is at my mercy, begging for his daughter’s life. I should feel sorry for him, yet his pleading means nothing to me.

  I would love to say that I have a heart somewhere underneath my hatred, anger, and coldness, but I can’t. I know who I am, and I make no apologies for it.

  “I didn’t bring her into this, old man. You did,” I hiss out, shoving his words back at him. He is trying to make me feel guilty, but situations like these never make me feel bad. If anything, it fuels the inferno inside of me and makes me feel more powerful.

  “Please…” he whispers as he begins crying again.

  At that moment, I wonder if my mother cried when she begged for my life the day someone put a gun to her head and killed her.

  My mother’s killer never even gave her the chance to beg or plead for her own life. She only begged for mine. At least I’m considerate enough to allow my debtors that chance.

  “You have two weeks until I come back to collect. If you don’t have the money by then, I will be choosing an alternate payment. One way or another, I’ll get something out of this.” I smile, simply because I’m a sick bastard like that.

  My men release him, and before I step out of the rundown farmhouse, my eyes land on a photo of his daughter. She is pretty, a bright smile and kind eyes. That would soon change if her father didn’t come up with the cash.

  “Your daughter would bring a pretty penny at auction. Probably more than you owe me. I’d let you have the difference.”

  “No, please, she is innocent.”

  “That’s why she would make us a lot of money, old man.” I grin, and my guys chuckles.

  She is almost too pretty to let go. Too innocent to sell.

  Maybe I’ll keep her for myself.

  I swirl the amber liquid around my glass as I look at her picture for the hundredth time. I don’t know what it is about her, but it has me captivated.

  Her image has been pulled up on my laptop since I returned from her father’s farm. I might as well set it as my wallpaper. What the hell is wrong with me?

  I never get like this with a woman, especially not one I’ve never met. All I have seen are a few pictures. I don’t know how she smells, sounds, or feels. Ugh, the thought of touching her has my cock hardening in my slacks.

  The more I think about keeping her for myself, the more I like the idea.

  Never before have I wished for someone not to come up with the money owed. I find myself hoping he can’t pay, so I can take her instead.

  If he does pay, I might have to come up with another way to get my fingers on her.

  A knock on my office door drags me out of my thoughts.

  “Come in,” I order gruffly, annoyed by the interruption of my picture ogling.

  Mack walks in a moment later. He has been my right hand and closest friend for many years. One of the few people I trust. I have many men working for me, but besides Mack, Eli, and Jared, I don’t really trust anyone.

  “Want to go out and have some fun tonight?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear, and I know exactly what kind of fun he is insinuating.

  “Why don’t you head out alone tonight. I’m busy.”

  “Anything I can do?”

  “Actually, yes. Before you head out, find a way to send a message to Amara Morris. I want her to come home when the old man’s time is up, and make it look like it came from her father. I don’t want her to be suspicious.”

  “No problem. Consider it done.” Mack sounds confident. I hope he can get it done.

  I need her to be here. Because regardless of her father being able to pay, I will find a way to make her mine.

  2

  Amara

  It has been almost two months since I’ve seen my dad. I’d been hesitant about leaving for college because it meant leaving him all alone at the farm. Especially after the promise I made to my mom.

  Truthfully, I wasn’t sure he could even make his own breakfast in the morning, do his laundry, or figure out how to run the vacuum.

  Mom had always done everything, and after she died, I tried my best to take care of him and the house. He never asked or expected me to do most of the household chores like cooking, cleaning, and laundry, but I did because I loved him.

  I pull my car onto our dirt road and instantly feel as if there is something wrong. I can’t yet put my finger on it, but something feels off. Honestly, when I got my father’s message asking me to come home, I felt something was off.

  It wasn’t like him to send me an email. He would usually call, but his email sounded urgent, and he wouldn’t answer his phone, so I got in the car and came.

  Getting closer to the farmhouse, I notice two black SUVs parked in front. The sight did nothing to ease the knots forming in my stomach.

  Who the heck could that be? The only people coming to our house are the occasional salesman or people from the local church. Neither one would be driving cars like this.

  I spot a man in a dark suit standing outside of one, his hand on a shiny item at his hip.

  Is that a gun? My mind is reeling as I try to figure out wha
t the hell is going on. Is my dad okay? Why is this man at my house? Are there more men like him? There had to be since there are two vehicles parked here. Are they robbing my house? Where is my dad?

  I put my old Jeep into park but leave the engine running. Sitting very still, I wonder what his next move will be. His eyes roam over my car as if he is inspecting it.

  Time stands still for a few seconds before he comes walking toward the Jeep. My heart is beating out of my chest, and my eyes glance down to my cell.

  I reach for my phone to call 911, knowing it might be my only chance. Frantically, I move my fingers over the screen as I punch in my code wrong three times. Shit!

  A loud knock against my window has me jumping up. Losing the grip on my phone, it slips from my hand and falls to the floorboard.

  “Get out of the car, and don’t even fucking think about reaching for that phone to call the cops,” the man growls at me through the window. His voice is loud and has a dangerous edge to it, which sends shivers down my spine.

  Despite the fear coursing through my body, I suddenly have the bright idea to just drive off. The door is locked, and he can’t get in.

  Grabbing the clutch, I put the car in reverse, ready to speed off when I see the man lift his gun and point it straight at my face.