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

  I’m almost done stacking the firewood next to the house when movement catches my eye on the far corner of the property. It’s just some leaves rustling, which could be anything.

  We are far out, and I didn’t hear any cars approaching. No one knows where we are, and this is one of Julian’s safe houses. There is almost no way someone followed us here. It has to be an animal… but what if it’s not?

  Briefly, I contemplate running inside and grabbing my gun from the safe. I didn’t think I’d need it, and I felt safer without it lying around. A gun would be the only way Fallon could win in a fight against me. I figured it’d be safer to take an equalizer like that out of the equation.

  Deciding on taking a risk, I walk to the edge of the property armed with an ax instead of my usual gun. When I get closer, my hunch is confirmed when I find a fresh track of footprints in the dirt. Motherfucker.

  Tightening my grip on the ax, I follow the tracks. It doesn’t take me long before I see someone moving in the distance. The guy is trying his best to get away from me, but I easily catch up with him.

  He looks over his shoulder, seeing me approach. I raise the ax like a fucking Viking warrior charging into battle, ready to strike. I expect him to pull out a gun, but he continues running like a little pussy. “Please!” He yells out seconds before I drop the ax and tackle him to the ground. He struggles slightly, waving his arms around, making it clear he has no kind of fighting skills.

  Who the fuck is this guy?

  He isn’t a cop nor anyone the mafia would send. If I believed in coincidences, I would say he is here by chance, but I don’t.

  Keeping my knee pressed between his shoulder blades, I lift my upper body up, so I can search him. He has three things on him. A phone, his wallet, and a fucking camera. I shove all three items in my pocket.

  Getting to my feet quickly, I drag him up with me and slam him against the closest tree. He hardly fights, and I wrap my hand around his throat, pinning him in place.

  “Who are you?” I demand. His eyes go wide, and his mouth opens, but it seems like he can’t get anything out besides a little wheeze. I loosen my grip just enough for him to talk.

  “I’m nobody. I was just walking,” he explains, but I can tell it’s a lie.

  “Wrong answer,” I growl.

  Grabbing his shirt, I shove him away and quickly pick up the ax from the ground. “You’re going to walk a few feet ahead of me. If you try to run or do anything else stupid, I’ll chop off your head.”

  “O-Okay, okay.” He stumbles over his feet. He’s a skinny guy with shaggy hair that reminds me of a surfer. He’s also much younger than me. Probably closer to Fallon’s age. Which leads me to wonder? Is this guy her boyfriend?

  “That way, back to the house. You know, the one you accidentally stumbled upon even though there isn’t another house for ten miles in either direction.”

  He walks without another word, which means I’m right. He isn’t here by chance.

  By the time we get back to the house, I’m a little more relaxed. Whoever he is, he came unprepared and without backup.

  I make him go into the house and force him to sit on a chair in the kitchen. He doesn’t even fight me. He looks way too scared to do anything, really.

  He only speaks when he sees me picking up the rope. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not lying.”

  I take a step toward him. “I don’t believe you.”

  His eyes flicker to the door, and he tries to run. I shove him back down by his shoulders and tie him to the chair before I get out the items he had on him.

  Flipping open his wallet, I pull out everything inside.

  “So, Christopher Wheeler… Wanna tell me why you’re here?”

  “Look, man, I’m not lying. I’m no one. A nobody—” My fist connects with his jaw.

  His head snaps to the side, and blood flies through the air. Before he gets the chance to recover from the first punch, I follow up with two more. If only he were honest. He’s going to die anyway, but I could end it sooner if he told the truth.

  “Please, stop! I’m no one.” His voice is shaking, and I’m pretty sure he is about to cry.

  “Who sent you?” I ask between punches. “Tell me, now!”

  “I-I don’t know! He just sent me to take some pictures, that’s it!”

  “Who is he?”

  “I don’t know. I swear. This guy contacted me by email. He transferred me money and gave me this address. Told me to get him some pictures of a blonde girl. I’m guessing it’s his girlfriend or something, and he wanted to catch her cheating.”

  “When? When did he contact you?” I’m about to shake the fucker to death.

  “This morning. He said it was urgent, and he paid me a lot of money, so I drove here right away. I figured it was easy money.”

  Easy money? Does this idiot not realize who he is dealing with? Does he not realize he is going to die for that money?

  “Did you get any pictures? If so, did you send them to anyone yet?” I ask while digging out the camera. It’s small and compact but has a retractable lens that allows clear long-distance shots. I turn the thing on and look at the little screen on the back.

  I almost groan when I see the pictures he’s taken through the window. Pictures of Fallon—naked. My Fallon. Now, he is going to die.

  “I got some pictures, but I haven’t sent them yet.”

  “Good.” I nod approvingly.

  The kid’s eyes light up with hope. “Does that mean you’re going to let me go now?”

  I chuckle at his question. “No, kid, unfortunately for you, there is no leaving.”

  Matter of fact, I might be the only one leaving this cabin alive.

  7

  Fallon

  I wrap my arms around myself and pull my knees to my chest as close as I can. The cold seeps into my bones down here. I think the worst part isn’t the chill but that I’m not sure when he’s coming back, or if he’s ever coming back.

  My nose wrinkles as I breathe through my nose. Death clings to the air, the walls, every inch of this room. I would know it even if it wasn’t for the puddle of dried blood on the floor. Even if it wasn’t for the unpleasant stench. I can feel it. Feel the poor souls who died in this room lingering within it.

  I hate this place more than anything. I hate him for leaving me here, and I hate myself for wanting him to come and get me. Hate myself for being weak.

  Resting my cheek on the top of my knee, I let the tears that have been threatening to fall escape. I refuse to let myself cry in front of him, but here, alone in this windowless cell, I can be the helpless and scared girl for a little while.

  There is some hope. At least he left the light on and gave me some clothes. It’s one minor act of kindness, but I’ll take it. I hate the dark so much, I would have given anything for that not to happen. I would’ve dropped to my knees and begged for it.

  After a short time, and when I’m sure that he will not come back, I put the clothes he gave me on. It only takes the edge off the coldness in the room, but it’s better than freezing to death. It’s a true prison down here.

  With nothing to do, I return to the small bench in the corner.

  Hours pass, or maybe it’s just minutes. I have no way of knowing how long I’ve been down here and nothing to pass the time. Only my thoughts are keeping me company, and those are my enemy right now.

  When I finally hear the lock disengage and the door creak open, I scramble to my feet. I let out a groan when I realize my legs have fallen asleep. My knees almost give out as the pain of my legs waking up shoots through my muscles.

  My limbs tingle as I force them to work and hold up my body weight. I feel like a dog who is excited to see his owner after being away for hours. I should sit back down and pretend to be uninterested in his presence, but my eagerness to get out of this cell is overpowering.

  All that excitement vanishes in a blink of an eye when I look up and see his face. The evilness etched into Markus’s dar
k features makes me take a step back. Like the night sky, he’s impenetrable, beautiful, but deadly. He looks vicious, like a shark that smelt blood in the water, and he’s tracking the prey it belongs to.

  Speaking of blood, as I drop my gaze, my eyes catch on his knuckles, which are bloody and swollen. My tongue feels heavy at the sight, and a lump forms in my throat. Fear roots me in place. What happened?

  “Move!” He half growls, half hisses.

  Darkness clings to his vocal cords. What is happening? When he left, he was angry, yes, but he looked nothing like he does now, like an unhinged beast.

  When I don’t immediately move, he grabs my wrist, his fingertips burn into my skin while he pulls me to the door. My feet slap harshly over the concrete. Something tells me I should run the other way, or at least beg to stay in this cell.

  I’m not sure what’s going on. All I know is that for the first time since he took me, I’m scared for my life.

  Forcing my feet forward, I bite my lip to stop from whimpering. Complaining isn’t going to help me at this point. Nothing is. If he plans to hurt me, which I’m sure he does, then there is nothing I or anyone else can do to stop him. When we reach the kitchen, he stops dead in his tracks. The forward momentum of my body causes me to crash directly into his back.

  Whirling around, he curls his lips and stares down at me like I’m the enemy. And in a lot of ways, I guess I am.

  “I’m going to give you one chance to answer this question and one chance only. If you lie to me…” He leans into my face, his eyes bleeding into mine. “If you lie, I will know, and I promise you, you’ll regret it.”

  I nod because that’s all I can do.

  “Is anyone looking for you or waiting for you back home?”

  “N- No… I mean. I don’t know. Maybe my parents? I don’t know if they realize I’m missing. I don’t know if anyone knows I’m missing. I’ve been gone for a few days. Maybe they went to the police? Or my roommate, maybe. I don’t know,” I ramble, trying to find the words he wants to hear.

  I cannot hide the tremble in my voice, and that makes me feel weak, so incredibly weak. Deep in my gut, I know something bad is going to happen. Danger and fear cling to the air, making it hard for me to breathe.

  Does he believe me?

  “I want to make it very clear to you what will happen if you try to escape me…if I find out you have a boyfriend.” I don’t get a chance to respond because, in an instant, we’re moving again. He grabs me by the arm, and this time, his hold is like an iron shackle. Cold and unrelenting.

  I’m unsure of where we’re going or what he is planning on doing next, but too afraid to open my mouth and ask. Entering the living space. I know something is off. There are random items on the floor, a wallet, a camera… an ax.

  Markus releases me and takes a step to the side. It’s then, in his shadow, I see a man tied to a chair in the center of the kitchen. His entire face swollen, blood dripping from the various lesions on his cheek and lips.

  “Oh god…” My voice fills with horror, “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Markus pounces on me, his vast body engulfing mine like a raging inferno of sin and power. He slaps a hand over my mouth, stopping me from talking. The warning glare he gives me without speaking a single word leaves me trembling.

  With his hands so close to my nose, I can smell the blood. The metallic odor has another burst of fear running through me. I plead with my eyes for him to stop all of this, but his stare is an icy jagged rock headed straight for my heart.

  “Do you know him?” he demands.

  Even if I could answer him, I wouldn’t. I can see how unhinged he is and know that no matter what my answer is, he will not listen. He’s past reasoning. Feral. Like a rabid animal.

  My eyes dart over to the man. I can barely see his face, but from what I can see, both his eyes are black and blue. Immediately, I understand why Markus’s knuckles are swollen and bloody.

  I don’t recognize the man tied to the chair. I wonder where he came from and how he got here? Did Markus just pluck him off the side of the road? Was he kidnapping him while he had me locked away in the basement? Bile rises in my throat.

  It was already obvious that Markus is an evil man. I knew it the moment he placed his bid on me, but this right here was the nail in the coffin.

  I knew what I was getting into when I walked on that stage, but this man… I don’t know his story or association with Markus, but I don’t like where this is heading.

  The human in me said I had to do something, or at the very least, say something. He pulls his hand back, leaving the skin around my mouth cold and wet. He must have left blood on my face. I realize in horror.

  Markus walks away, leaving me standing a few feet away. My knees are shaking so much, I’m not sure if I can hold myself up much longer. He stops when he is right next to the tied up man and turns back to face me.

  What is he going to do?

  “Do you know him?” Markus asks again, pronouncing each word carefully as he walks back over to the man. His voice is a deep growl that wraps around my throat, squeezing the life out of me. I look away from the unknown man and slowly lift my eyes to Markus, who is now standing beside the man, his eyes piercing mine.

  I answer him with a shake of my head. The faintest smile appears on his lips, and it’s like the grim reaper is staring back at me.

  Before I can say anything or tell him to let the man go, he pulls out a knife. The blade catches in the light, and I bite my lip to stop a gasp from escaping.

  I’m not even sure where he got the knife, and I don’t really care. All I care about is what he plans to do with it, and with the look of murder in his eyes, I wouldn’t be…

  The thought evaporates into the air in an instant when Markus grabs the handle of the knife and jams it into the man’s legs all the way to the bone.

  An ear-piercing scream fills the air, and my lungs seize inside my chest. I stare at Markus with a look of shock and terror. While he looks at me with pure glee.

  Who is this man?

  “Are you sure you don’t know him?”

  I shake my head profusely. Why won’t he believe me? I’m so afraid of what he’ll do next. Markus is unstable, like a volcano ready to explode and destroy all that’s around him.

  “Why don’t you let him go? I don’t know him. I don’t even know where I am. No one knows I’m here…” I try to hide the quiver in my voice, but that is even less likely than Markus letting this guy go.

  Markus snaps, his face filling with rage.

  “Let him go?” he roars, grabbing the handle of the knife and tugging it free from the man’s leg. The chaos has to end here, I tell myself, but it doesn’t.

  He brings the knife level with his eyes and peers at it, almost curiously, watching the blood slide down the blade and drip onto the floor. My stomach churns, and I think I may vomit. Speaking incredibly calm while continuing to examine the blade, he says, “He had a fucking camera. He’s somebody, and I’ll bet you know who he is, or at the very least, you know who sent him.”

  The way he’s staring at the knife makes me wonder if he would use it on me. Is he going to stab me next? I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

  “I don’t,” I whimper like a wounded animal.

  “Wrong answer,” he growls and moves lightning-quick, taking the knife and stabbing the man in his other leg. I flinch because I thought it was going to be me that got the knife plunged into her skin.

  The unknown man lets out another muffled scream, and I can see the pain etched deep into his features. Tears slip from his eyes and down his face, mixing with the blood that dribbles from his nose.

  He looks as hopeless as I feel.

  “Markus, please… I don’t know him,” I try to reason with him, even though he’s past reasoning. What kind of person would it make me if I didn’t? The sides of his lips tick up, and the smile he gives me is anything but charming—it’s pure carnage. It’s like staring the devil directly
in the eyes and expecting to live.

  Stalking toward me, he wraps a hand around my wrist and pulls me into his chest like a rag doll. “You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know a liar when I see one?”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to answer him before he twists me around, forcing my back against his chest. I’m facing the nameless man now, and I can feel the tears in my eyes threatening to break free and run down my cheeks.

  Wrapping an arm around my middle to hold me in place, he slips his hand into my sweatpants, and I freeze. My entire body becomes an iceberg.

  What is he going to do?

  His thick fingers move down over my smooth skin, trailing lower and lower while my heart races faster and faster in my chest. When he makes contact with my mound, I almost scream. The only reason I don’t is that I’m sure that’s what he wants, to terrify me, to get a reaction out of me.

  “You like this, don’t you? Seeing me so close to the edge. That’s why you won’t tell me? You want to see how close I’ll get before I completely lose it?”

  My bottom lip trembles, and I’m about to tell him, no, that this is wrong, that he needs to stop and let this man go, but two fingers slide between my folds and find my clit. The world around me spins.

  It’s wrong, so wrong, and beyond fucked up, but the moment his fingers touch my clit, all the fear and terror turns into something else. His touch, no matter how cruel, tugs me off the edge of losing myself in fear and dread.

  Heat creeps up my body, and I’m on the verge of pushing it away, but with every stroke of his fingers, it becomes more and more impossible. If I’m honest with myself, I don’t want to push it away. I want to lean into it, run toward it, because the alternative is pure terror.

  Instead of falling off the cliff and into a full-blown panic attack, I let Markus pull me back. I let the heat spread through my body until I’m on fire, burning with the intensity of the sun. His fingers move faster and faster, and I can feel my body growing wetter, my toes curling. I’m climbing, rushing toward the surface. The pleasure consuming me.