Violent Beginnings : A Dark Enemies To Lovers Mafia Romance Read online

  I should be scared and in pain, but I’m none of those things.

  “What did you give me?” I mumble, but I’m not sure if the words actually come out right.

  “Go to sleep,” he growls, without an explanation. And this time, I do.

  4

  Markus

  The sun peeks through the curtains, and for a long moment, I simply lie there. It’s been so long since I allowed myself the pleasure of sleeping next to another person. Not in a sexual way, but in the physical sense of being next to someone. In fact, I hardly ever sleep, and yet I did just that last night. For the first time in years, I fell asleep and didn’t wake from a nightmare.

  I’m not sure why, but I would pin it on having everything to do with the petite woman lying beside me. Gently, I roll over, paying careful attention to my movements. I don’t want her to wake yet, as I still need to call and hear what my brother has found out.

  With ease, I lift my head from my pillow and let my gaze roam over her body. I felt a slight flicker of guilt over giving her the pill last night, but I wasn’t sure I could handle her fighting me. Plus, her head and arms must have been aching, and I know the pill took all of that away, giving her a moment of reprieve.

  The pajamas she’s wearing might hide her body well, but I know what is concealed beneath already, and I cannot unsee it. Carnal need hits me like a bull directly in the groin.

  A strand of her spun gold hair tickles my skin. I’m unsure why, but I lean into her, wanting to bury my nose in her hair. Inhale her scent. It’s wrong. She isn’t of grave importance to me, and there is no way Fallon is her, but I still want to breathe her in. Even if it’s just pretend.

  My nostrils flare as I inhale deeply. Just as I had assumed. She smells clean, like soap and something else. A faint scent of lavender catches in my nose, and I inhale her a little deeper, wanting to taste her on my tongue and feel her wiggle beneath my body.

  Fuck. I chalk it up to being forever since I’ve gotten laid, and that’s why I’m so drawn to her, and she looks just like her—a spitting image. I remind myself instantly that she isn’t Victoria. She is dead, gone, and all because of me.

  Easing away from Fallon and forcing distance between us, I shift off the bed, and it creaks beneath my weight. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I cast one last glance over my shoulder before walking out of the room. Quietly, I close the door behind me.

  There isn’t anywhere she can go, not while she’s tied up in my bed. Heading into the kitchen, I make my morning coffee. The house remains stocked at all times, the pantry full, and the house ready to live in with little notice in case there is ever a need to come here right away.

  That’s what made it the perfect location to come to, well that, and it’s secluded and away from wandering eyes and ears.

  I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with her. Complete control is something I shouldn’t be given access to. The thought makes me insane. I want her to be submissive, begging, and pleading for me.

  Before I can sink down that rabbit hole, I tug my phone from my pocket and call Felix. I only sent him an email last night, so I’m not sure if he’ll have even looked into her yet. Or if he is going to do this for me at all. We didn’t separate on good terms, and it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t answer the phone either.

  He picks up on the second ring. “Markus, my long-lost brother. I’ll be damned.”

  “Felix, how have you been?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation casual, though we both know this is anything but a casual call.

  “Sipping on Pina Coladas in Tahiti. How have you been?” Surprisingly, his question seems genuine, as if he really wants to know if I’ve been doing well.

  “Same, pretty much.”

  “I’m sure.” He chuckles.

  “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t called in a month, and now I’m asking for a favor out of the blue, but I really need to know.”

  “I saw her picture,” is all he says, and I know he understands.

  “Everything checked out. She is who she says she is. Fallon Brice, nineteen, born and raised in Sun Valley to small-time politician Paul Brice and his wife Marlene Brice, maiden name Brown. Two daughters. No other relatives. There is no connection, Markus. At least not on the surface. I can dig deeper—”

  “No, it’s fine.” I feel both relief and anger. She has no connection to Victoria. It’s simply a fluke of nature. Or maybe it’s the universe taunting me. Probably the latter, I deserve this; after all I’ve done, I’m sure this is her memory haunting me.

  “So, Fallon has a sister?”

  “Yes, Amelie Brice, twenty-one, is currently studying abroad.”

  “Okay. One last thing. What do you mean, small-time politician?” I don’t need someone with connections coming after me.

  “Used to be Mayor of his town back in the day when his daughters were younger, but some drug scandal made him resign. He owns a little convenience store now. Fallon worked at the store until recently, then she left for college. Her roommate reported her missing two days ago.”

  At least her roommate cares enough to notice she is missing. It doesn’t matter, though. They won’t find her, not hiding here.

  “Good, thank you. I mean it.”

  “I guess I’ll wait for you to call next time you need something.” He sounds a little snide, which I deserve. I’ve been ignoring his phone calls, and now I’m the one that reached out needing a favor.

  “Why don’t we meet up soon? I wouldn’t mind seeing your ugly face.” As soon as the words are out, I regret saying them, and not because I don’t mean them.

  If I meet up with my brother, I will have to either take Fallon with me or leave her somewhere alone. Neither would be a good idea.

  “Yeah, let’s meet up. I’ll call you when I’m back in the US.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks again, talk soon,” I tell him and hang up the phone.

  Knowing everything checks out as she says means she didn’t lie to me. It also means she has no connection to Victoria. Still, every time I look at her, that’s exactly who I see.

  Her smiling face. Her sparkling blue eyes. I can almost hear her soft laugh like a breeze blowing through the trees. She was mine for an instant, and then the very life I live now took her away from me.

  Damnit! I slam my fist angrily onto the counter. Pain lances up my arm, but it’s nothing compared to the pain I feel in my chest at the reminder of her memory.

  The feelings I am experiencing are out of control. I’ve never done something this insane. I always think things through and never show my emotions because if you do that, you might as well be giving your entire game away. Emotions mean you have something worthy of caring for, something that someone can take from you, and that’s what I’ve gone and done.

  I’ve bought something, someone technically, and now I’m like a goddamn lion guarding his prey so no one else can have her.

  Indecision weighs heavy on my mind as I drink my black coffee and prepare some breakfast for Fallon. I still don’t have the first fucking clue what I am going to do with her. I just know I can’t let her go. I want her too much. Want to possess her, touch her, own her. I’ve never wanted a woman like I want her, and not understanding the reason behind it is driving me insane.

  Going through the pantry, I find some oatmeal. I cook it and place it at the breakfast nook with a glass of orange juice. I’m not anywhere close to being domesticated, but I can cook a fucking meal.

  I walk back upstairs and into the bedroom and stand at the foot of the bed, staring at her, watching as she sleeps peacefully, knowing that I’m going to disturb that.

  I’m going to take everything in her life from her. Whatever she had in the past is gone. Now, I’m her past, present, and future.

  She is my property, and though she may not be Victoria, she brings all those feelings I thought were gone, that I never thought I would experience again back to life, and part of me is angr
y at her for that.

  I know it’s completely irrational. Borderline insane, but I want to punish her for it all the same. Inflict pain because that’s what she’s doing to me, even if it’s unintentional. It’s not her fault she looks like her, but I don’t care. Someone needs to pay.

  Having waited long enough, I pad over to the side of the bed and give her a shake. Her skin is cool to the touch, almost as if she’s cold. When she doesn’t wake right away, I shake her again, this time a little harder.

  With a startled gasp, her lips part, and her eyes flutter open. Confusion hits her first, followed by fear. It’s prominent in her features, and her blue eyes bleed into mine as the memories of yesterday return. There’s a wealth of secrets in those deep blues, and I’m going to sink into them and expose them all.

  It takes a moment for recognition to appear, and then she seems to release a breath, sucking in another, her chest rising and plunging as if she is trying to calm herself.

  “I’m sorry, I forgot where I was,” she croaks, her voice full of sleep. I try and make myself not care that she is frightened but I can’t, so the second best thing is to shut my emotions down altogether.

  “I’m going to untie you, lead you to the bathroom, and then we’re going to go into the kitchen so you can eat your breakfast. Remember my warning from last night?” I narrow my gaze, noticing the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

  I wasn’t lying last night when I told her she was beautiful. Even bruised and scared, she looks like an angel. A heart-shaped face, full lips, and blue eyes that could make any man weak in the knees. She’s young too; there is still an innocence about her, which only adds to the appeal.

  I shouldn’t allow myself to wonder how she ended up at the auction in the first place, but I do. They usually kidnap girls for those things from vacation spots or clubs. Wherever they can find young girls that won’t be missed right away.

  Innocent and naive. They can get them to do anything they want. College is not their norm. My guess is she was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

  “Yes, I remember,” she finally answers quietly.

  I’m apprehensive in believing her but want to test her and see what she does. Untying her from the bed, I do my best not to brush against her skin. The warmth of her body calls to me already, and god knows I’m fucking attracted to her. I haven’t had sex in forever, so it wouldn’t take much for me to snap at this point.

  I don’t fully believe her submissive nature. Even now, the way she is acting is odd, I just woke her up, and instead of screaming and begging for me to let her go, she says she forgot where she was? It’s strange and not typical of a captor, captive situation. Something is off about her.

  With her arms released, she stretches them above her head, most likely trying to get the blood pumping back into them.

  “Bathroom,” I growl, pointing toward it.

  She nods and shoves to her feet faster than necessary.

  I can see her falling before she does, and I catch her around the waist, seconds before she is about to hit the floor and tuck her into my chest. The drugs I gave her last night might have left her feeling a little woozy this morning, but that doesn’t stop me from lashing out at her.

  “Are you trying to kill yourself?” The words come out as a deep rumble from my chest as I peer down at her. I’m a good foot taller than she is, forcing her to crane her neck back to look up at me. I won’t deny her tiny little body pressed against my bare chest is probably the best thing I’ve felt in forever. It’s almost like she was made to fit there perfectly.

  “No… I’m sorry. I’m just unsteady on my feet,” she replies but doesn’t make a move to push me away. Either she’s stupid or unaware of the danger she is in.

  I could kill her with the snap of my fingers, which I’ve already proven. Subdue her with no effort and take what I want, and yet she stands here molded to my body, unwavering, without a plea falling from her lips.

  My cock hardens in my low hanging sweatpants, and I know if I don’t push her away, I’ll end up fucking her right here and now. As tempting as that is, I’m wary about the way she is acting. It would be stupid of me to give into my most primal needs with her without seeing the full picture. Grabbing her by the arms, I give her a light shove, putting distance between our bodies. Distance is good and exactly what I need. It lessens her stupid intoxicating scent from entering my nose. It removes her soft little body from molding into the harsh pieces of my own.

  I don’t want to be her missing puzzle piece or her savior. I want to own her, want her complete submission. I want her to be mine and understand the extent I’m willing to go to keep it that way.

  “Good, because you’re no use to be if you’re dead,” I hiss.

  Her big eyes grow a little rounder, but she doesn’t seem bothered by my brashness. That’s got to change. I need her afraid and not so accepting of her fate.

  “Go to the restroom before I change my mind and tie you back to the bed for the rest of the day.” I shoo her away. Hesitantly, she walks away and into the adjacent bathroom.

  She doesn’t even attempt to close the door behind her. In fact, she hasn’t tried to escape or begged me to let her go. She hasn’t even asked to call her parents or roommate to let them know she is okay.

  Every order I give her, she obeys, and there is something wrong with that.

  She shouldn’t obey me.

  She shouldn’t blindly accept her fate, but that’s how she is acting.

  The flushing of the toilet and the running of the faucet drag me from my thoughts and back to the present.

  Walking into the room, she stops before me and peers up at me like I’m her master. That’s not really something she should want me to become. I can promise her that.

  “Kitchen,” I say gruffly, irritated that I’ve repeated myself when I already laid out the plans for her. In fact, I’m irritated in general.

  Angrily, I trudge out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen that opens into the living room with her on my heels.

  When we reach the kitchen, I point to the chair and take the spot directly across from her. Pulling the chair out, she sits and stares down into her bowl of oatmeal for a moment before grabbing the spoon. She eats without question or complaint, even though I am certain the food is cold by now.

  “I have questions.” I tap my fingers against the wood table.

  “Yes?” She peers up at me, spoon partially in her mouth.

  I notice then that her eyes are framed by thick, long lashes the color of sand. Creamy white skin, with a soft kiss of glow from the sun. I wonder if she would taste like her, if she would let me kiss… I shove the thought away before it can take root and clench my hands into a tight fist. I want to punch something, hurt someone. I’m not sure how, but I keep myself from doing either thing.

  Focusing on my breathing alone, I ask the question I’m most curious about,

  “Why haven’t you tried to escape? Begged me to release you? You haven’t even asked if you could call your parents. I’m sure you know how suspicious that makes me, right?”

  Something close to fear flicks across her gaze and then disappears.

  “If I asked you any of those things, what would be your answer?” She counters.

  My gaze narrows to slits. “No.”

  She lifts her chin just a little. “That’s exactly why. I’m not stupid. I already knew you wouldn’t let me do any of those things, so there was no point in asking. You bought me for a lot of money, so of course, you won’t let me go. Begging will get me nowhere, besides maybe irritating you more. Then there’s the fact that you’re twice my size, and we’re in the middle of nowhere. The chances I would get away from you are also slim to none, and I’ll probably just end up dead or hurt in the process of either. The best thing to do is to behave and listen, hoping that you won’t kill me or hurt me too badly.”

  My teeth grind together, and I’m a little pissed at how smart and reasonable sh
e is.

  Buying her, I expected her to be timid and scared. To beg, plead, and do everything in her power to run away. My expectations were obviously off.

  She is a politician’s daughter, all right. Assessing risks and trying to do damage control. Everything she said makes sense, but that doesn’t mean I can trust her.

  She’ll have to do better than that.

  5

  Fallon

  You win some, and you lose some, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to be signing my own death certificate if I don’t shut my mouth soon. Be smart, Fallon.

  Markus is looking at me like he wants to murder me, and the weight of his stare makes it hard for me to swallow down the heavy globs of oatmeal in my mouth. Somehow, I manage and finish breakfast without another word. He offers me a glass of water, which I take without question. For some odd reason, I’m beyond thirsty.

  Maybe it’s the after-effects of whatever drug he gave me last night. I want to be mad at him for giving it to me, but being able to go to sleep without pain was heaven.

  I try not to stare or make eye contact with him, but it’s hard when he’s right there, literally in my face with a body sculpted from stone, and a look of complete disinterest on his Adonis face. He didn’t want sex last night, which was shocking, but a blessing as well, which leaves me to wonder if he didn’t want that, what did he buy me for?

  Perhaps the sex will come later?

  “Get up,” he orders gruffly.

  He’s all about ordering. There is no asking. No chance to object or ask a question. I scamper to my feet like a soldier, nearly knocking the chair over. All he’s done the entire time I ate my cold breakfast was stare at me while drinking what I assume is coffee. He made nothing to eat for himself, unless he ate before waking me up.

  Maybe he doesn’t eat breakfast?

  I don’t know why I care… he’s my captor. I should be hoping he dies, planning out my escape, not worrying if he’s eating breakfast or not. Maybe I want him to eat with me to make this seem more normal, to create an illusion of this being anything besides what it is.