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

  Before I’m ready, I’m being led out of my home. My heart constricts, and panic seizes me as I try to look at my dad one last time. “Daddy…” I manage to gasp out before my ears fill with my dad’s broken, sobbing voice.

  “Amara… Amara… I’m so… Amara!” My father’s wails will be in my mind until I see him again, whenever that may be.

  My throat constricts with sobs wanting to erupt, but I can’t let them out. I can’t break down yet, so I let anger take over my heart. When we stop at the SUVs, I turn to Lorenzo with fire in my eyes and heartache in my voice.

  “You didn’t even let me say goodbye! You didn’t give me a chance to pack or take anything important to me. I need my phone, schoolbooks, and laptop. I have classes I need to finish.”

  Lorenzo chuckles at my outburst, and his eyes light up like he’s enjoying my dismay. He is fucking laughing at me!

  “Oh, my darling Amara, you won’t be returning to school, and you don’t need anything from your old life.”

  “How long do you expect me to stay with you?”

  “Indefinitely,” he says like he is absolutely sure of the future. My mouth pops open, but no words come out. He can’t be serious.

  “You are mine. Your life is mine. Your memories, emotions, desires are all mine. I own you now. Your life as you knew it doesn’t exist anymore,” he continues explaining to me as if he’s talking to a child.

  It’s at this moment that I realize what I have gotten myself into. He is expecting me to stay longer than a few days.

  As the realization quickly settles in, I make myself a promise. I will play Lorenzo’s game, and I will let him think he owns me, but he will never control my mind or my heart.

  I take a deep breath, allowing my new resolve to fill me. “I know I agreed to go with you and all, but what exactly am I to do?” I hadn’t even thought of that. I just wanted to find a way to save my father’s life and get these men out of my mother’s home.

  “We’ll start off slowly since we don’t know one another. Every day we’ll work up to the best part of all…” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

  “What’s the best part?” I ask innocently.

  “When you ride my dick.” A smirk pulls at his lips as I gasp, and my face reddens. I’m not stupid, I know what will happen. I know someone like him doesn’t just take someone like me and force her to clean his house or complete menial tasks. I just didn’t expect him to be so blunt and straightforward with his words.

  “Does that bother you? Riding my dick? Because you will ride it. You’ll ride it long and hard. I will fill your pussy and fuck you into oblivion.”

  Without warning, a rope is pulled around my ankles, and a scrap of fabric lands in Lorenzo’s hands. He leans in closer than before, and I open my mouth for him to put it in. His hands wrap the fabric around my head as he secures the gag.

  Then the asshole behind me tightens it even more, and my vision starts to go blurry just as my eyes land on a very pleased face. Lorenzo may have gotten what he wanted, but I earned my father’s freedom.

  3

  Amara

  I’m surprised when they put me in the back seat, laying me down across the bench instead of throwing me in the trunk. I’m even more surprised when Lorenzo opens the door on the other side and gets in. He lifts up my head and sits down, lowering my head on his lap. I’m on my side, facing him. So I’m looking at his stomach.

  Painfully aware of how close I am to the cock he expects me to ride soon, I close my eyes to avoid looking at him. I try to scoot away from him as much as I can being tied up and all, but that only makes him pull me closer.

  One of his goons gets into the front seat and starts the car. I keep my eyes closed and pretend to be someone else, going somewhere fun. That is until I feel fingers brushing over my forehead.

  My eyes fly open, and I look up at Lorenzo, who is looking back at me with hungry eyes. It dawns on me why he had me tied and gagged even though I said I was going to come without a fight. It turns him on. He likes me like this.

  As if I needed to be any more helpless than I already am.

  His fingers dance over my face, his thumb swipes over my bottom lip before he trails his fingers down my neck. His touch is gentle, almost soothing, and I have to remind myself of what kind of things these hands have done.

  He doesn’t stop at my neck, his fingers move over my collarbone, then down my chest. My shirt is already ripped open, exposing part of my bra. Lorenzo must feel like it’s not enough because he rips the shirt further.

  For a moment, he simply enjoys the view. When he gets tired of that, he cups each of my breasts through my bra, massaging them and rolling my nipples between his fingers.

  “I can’t wait to suck on these,” the bastard murmurs. “I’m sure you’re gonna love it.” He continues fondling me for a few minutes, the bulge next to my face growing until I can feel the tip of his erection on my cheek.

  I pull my face back, but he cups the back of my head and pulls me closer. With a groan, he rubs my cheek against his cock through the material of his pants while kneading my breast with his other hand.

  My body feels funny. Confused. Hot and cold at the same time. His touch is warm and comforting, igniting something deep inside of me, but everything else is wrong. He is wrong, this place is wrong, me being tied up is so very, very wrong.

  I try my very best to numb myself. I don’t want to have any of these feelings, especially not with him–a man who hurt my father and took me as payment.

  After he is through with my tits, his hand brushes over my stomach. A shiver runs through my body when he gets to a spot right over the band of my jeans.

  With his jaw relaxed, and his lips tucked up into a smile, he looks amused by the way I react to him. His smile only widens when his hand reaches between my legs, cupping my most private part.

  “I wonder just how innocent you are, my sweet Amara. I’ll guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  The car suddenly slows down. I glance out of the window but can’t see anything besides trees. Only when we move again, do I see the edge of an iron gate.

  Lorenzo unties the fabric holding the gag in place, then pulls it off completely. A thank you is sitting on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it and the saliva and fuzz from the fabric left in my mouth. I will not thank him for taking out a gag that he put there.

  A few moments later, the car stops again, and the engine is shut off. I guess we’ve made it.

  “Come untie her ankles. I don’t feel like carrying her inside,” Lorenzo orders his man up front while he starts to undo the rope around my wrists.

  “Are you going to kill me?” I ask foolishly. I can’t help it; the question is burning a hole in my head. The door at my feet opens, and a man comes up to follow through with Lorenzo’s orders.

  “I might be a criminal, dear Amara, but killing beautiful women isn’t something I enjoy doing. I only do it if necessary. If you do as you’re told, I won’t hurt you.” His deep, silky voice invades my body and my senses. I shudder as my palms sweat, and a slick coating of fear fills my belly.

  When my limbs are free once again, Lorenzo gets out of the car. I sit up, and he motions for me to get out. Sliding out, I clasp my shirt together with my hand and take in my surroundings.

  We are parked in front of a large house, two men are guarding the front door, and three more are standing close to the car. I wonder if that’s my welcoming committee or if this place is always so heavily guarded.

  My feet touch the gravel, and I fight the urge to run, knowing I won’t get far anyway.

  Lorenzo holds out his hand as if he wants me to take it. I stare at it, unsure what to do.

  “Take it,” he orders. “I can hear you thinking about running.”

  “I wasn’t going to,” I murmur, but still take his hand. He leads me up to the front steps while his guards eye me like I’m a sandwich they’re about to snack on.

  “Welcome to your new home.” Lorenzo’s w
ords are anything but welcoming as I enter his house… my new home… excuse me, my new prison—it’ll never be home. I massage my wrists where the rope rubbed my skin.

  My world seems fuzzy and discombobulated as I take everything in. My mind is still trying to play catch up with this whole situation. It’s so absurd, it still seems like a dream and not my life.

  Yesterday I was a student at North Woods University. Today, I’m standing in a mobster’s home. Well, actually it’s more like a mansion—the kind you see in movies that have three pools and twenty-five bedrooms, more bathrooms than bedrooms, and live-in help... You know what I’m talking about, right?

  “Is this to your liking?” he asks sarcastically.

  “Your home is beautiful,” I reply softly. In such a large space, my voice can hardly be heard. Just from my view in the entryway, I know this house is magnificent. The floors are marble, sleek and glistening under the lights. There’s a grand, sweeping staircase ahead of me. I admire the high ceilings, large windows, and expensive artwork. I know to see this house in the daylight will be amazing.

  Lorenzo lets go of my hand and nudges me to follow his men up the staircase. I comply immediately and quietly. We walk down a long hall, passing numerous doors. I’m not sure If I want to know what is behind them or not. We finally reach two French doors at the end of the hall.

  “Leave us,” Lorenzo says. I turn around to watch his men walk away like he had ordered them to. My heart sinks into my stomach.

  I made a terrible mistake agreeing to this. If I had known...

  No. Stop it. You didn’t want them to continue hurting your father, and you know you wouldn’t be able to live without him, I tell myself.

  Without my dad, I’ll be all alone. He is the only thing I have left.

  The voice in my head stops me from saying anything. I can’t possibly tell this man that I’m having second thoughts. He wouldn’t care. He would kill me or my father, or both.

  I watch as he opens the door and walks into the large room. His body relaxes as the tension within him seems to dissolve. It seems as if he is a completely different person in his surroundings. Almost like he’s really human. Almost.

  “Come, piccolo,” he demands. Piccolo—is that Italian? It sounds that way though I have no idea what it means. Without comment, I obey him and walk into his room slowly. There is a king-sized bed sitting on the far side of the room that looks like it’s right out of an expensive hotel. It is large and lavish with big, fluffy pillows and beautiful, luxurious blankets.

  An incredibly comfortable looking couch is centered in the middle of the room. A television with numerous movies and games sits in front of it, and on the far wall is a desk area. None of these things matter nearly as much as the view that lies before me. Two French doors lead out onto a wraparound balcony.

  My breath catches in my throat as I walk across the room to the open doors. The sun is setting in the distance, and the waves of the ocean break against the jagged rocks that line the shore. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

  I wonder if I actually get to stay in this room or if he is just bringing me here for sex and then putting me in the servant quarters or maybe a dungeon of some sort.

  Shaking that unpleasant thought away, I concentrate on the amazing view. It’s something you would find on a postcard or in a travel guide. Stepping closer to the window, I soak in the beauty and let the motion of the waves calm me.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” I turn around, startled, completely forgetting where I am for a moment. That is the thing about beautiful things—they can distract you for a short time, but then everything eventually turns ugly and real again.

  “Yes, very,” I reply shyly. I watch him as he heads over to his desk. He grabs a crystal bottle that is filled with a dark liquid. Two glasses clink together in his hand as I realize he is going to pour me a drink.

  “No, thank you,” I mutter before he can drop a splash of what I assume is bourbon. I’m not much of a drinker, not that I’ve had many chances to do so. I’m not even old enough to legally drink.

  He turns, peering up at me. His eyes are beautiful in the setting sun. His body is lickable in so many ways, and if it’s this great looking covered by his clothes, I wonder what it will look like without.

  “If you insist.” Lorenzo pours himself a large glass and slams most of it back. A dribble escapes his mouth, landing on his full bottom lip.

  A brief image of me licking away the sweet-smelling alcohol flashes through my mind, but I quickly push it to the darkest corner of my brain. He’s attractive, but he is a monster. I can’t let my physical attraction to him distract me.

  Watching him more closely, I can tell he is of Italian descent, which explains why he used the word ‘piccolo.’ His dark complexion, along with his dark hair and eyes, tells me he is. His body and hands are large, his whole presence is large.

  “I hope you think of this place as a home, not a prison.” His words are gentle, and his eyes are soft as he looks at me. Either he is trying to comfort me or give me a false sense of safety. I’m guessing the latter. He probably wants me to let my guard down so his attack will be more vicious.

  “I hope you treat me like a person and not a prisoner,” I retort, taking a seat on the sofa and folding my hands in my lap. I don’t know what else to do or where I am supposed to go. I have been given no directions or purpose yet.

  “I will treat you as I see fit and no less.” I gaze up into Lorenzo’s eyes. I don’t know what to think or how to feel anymore. My mind is still reeling. In less than twenty-four hours, my life has changed so much. “No need to frown. As long as you behave, I will not treat you too badly.”

  I didn’t realize I was frowning until he pointed it out. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I reply, averting my eyes to the floor. He is intense, unlike anyone I have ever met. Looking at him causes my heart to beat abnormally fast, but not looking at him makes me feel like I am missing something.

  “The rules are pretty simple.” He purses his lips, taking the seat next to me. “Do as I say. Don’t disobey, and of course, you’re not to run. Ever. If you do, the deal is off, and your father is dead.” My heart is beating out of my chest.

  “I won’t run, I promise.”

  “You cannot wander around our home either; I will let you know what rooms you are allowed into. You do not speak to any of my men, but I will introduce you to the staff with whom you may converse. You will only wear the clothes I provide and will wear what I select for special occasions. Furthermore, you’re to stay in my quarters unless I say otherwise. You do not leave this room without my permission. You’re mine to play with, to keep, and to possess.”

  His words leave me breathless. “Play with? Possess? You are talking about me like I’m a toy.”

  I’ve been told many times in my life that my mouth will get me in trouble one day. I never really took that seriously until now. Much too often, I talk before I think, which is a terrible habit to have in my situation.

  He leans into my body as if he is smelling me. “Yes, my personal toy. I will possess you in every single way possible,” he promises, his voice just above a whisper.

  “What if I object to something you want me to do? What if I feel like I can’t handle what you ask of me?” I’m feeling very brave at the moment. I know asking this question will lead me to an answer that I don’t want to hear, but I have to hear it.

  “If you object, then the deal is off and is unpaid. If the debt is unpaid, then there is only one other way to pay for it, and I assure you that you don’t want that to take place, piccolo.” His voice is dangerous, and his eyes say he isn’t lying. He will take someone’s life if I do not follow his rules.

  Looking down at his hands, I know he has taken many people’s lives. I’m in danger of being his next victim.

  “I won’t object,” I respond, trying my hardest to sound determined. I have no other option.

  “Good,” he says, smiling as if he has just solved e
very problem in the world. The air between us is less tense now, and I find myself relaxing into the cushions more.

  “Are you hungry?” Lorenzo asks, swirling the bourbon in his glass. He stares at it as if all the answers to his problems lie at the bottom of that glass.

  “No,” I answer truthfully. I haven’t eaten anything since this morning, but I feel no hunger. Matter of fact, my stomach is in knots. I don’t think I could keep anything down right now.

  “Well, that’s too bad. ’Cause you’re coming to dinner with me. I’m sure you’ll change your mind when you smell Silvia’s food.”

  “Why ask me if you are going to make the decisions for me anyway? No, wait, don’t answer that.”

  Ignoring me altogether, he continues, “Anything in particular you like? I believe my cook, Silvia, made spaghetti with meatballs this evening.”

  “Sounds good. I’m not picky.” I quickly stand at the same time he does. Our bodies brush against one another’s, and an electric current flows through us. For a tiny moment, I feel like I can read him, as if he is dark and damaged for a reason. It makes me want to dig my nails into him and crawl into the dark places of his mind and expose what he truly is.

  As quick as the moment comes, it’s gone, the connection lost, and I’m left cold and scared once more. My fingers tighten around the fabric of my shirt, which I’m still holding together in front of my chest.

  Lorenzo’s eyes lower to that hand, and his eyes light up like he’s just remembered something.

  Briefly, he disappears into the large walk-in closet, only to return moments later with a pastel-colored blouse in his hand.

  “Take your shirt off and put this one on,” he orders and hands it to me.

  I take it and quickly do as he says. Dropping my torn shirt on the floor, I pull on the silky blouse. His gaze turns heated as he watches me change, which only makes me hurry up more.

  It’s not until I’m buttoning up the blouse that I wonder who this belongs to. Why does he have women’s clothing in his closet? Does he do this a lot, or does he have a girlfriend… or wife? Whoever she was, she happens to be my size.