Page 6 of Stolen Bride for the Don

The warning keeps me still. Not because I’m scared of the actual spanking, but because I’m scared of how he makes me feel.

We trudge silently out of the woods, and he speaks to the other men in a low stream of Italian. I speak and understand French fluently, and a sprinkling of Italian, but they’re speaking too fast for me to get more than just bits and pieces.

It’s enough for me to know that we’re switching cars, and that the place he’s taking me to is somewhere in Providence, Rhode Island. I remain docile as he drops me into the passenger seat of a luxurious Mercedes AMG. He keeps his eyes on me as he pulls the seatbelt across my chest before closing the door.

As soon as the door shuts, he clicks the lock on the remote in his hand. As he rounds the car to his side, a tall man with biceps as thick as tree trunks moves to stand in front of my door, presumably to keep me in the car as Hudson unlocks it and climbs in.

“This is kidnapping, you know.” I tell him as he drags his seatbelt over his chest.

He doesn’t answer as he starts the engine. We wait quietly for the other SUV to pull onto the shoulder; he doesn’t hesitate before flooring the gas. At this speed, I can’t even consider another tuck and roll maneuver. I’m seeing my chances of escape shrink with every mile he accelerates ever faster. I settle into the seat with a sigh and lean my head against the headrest, finally resigned to being taken by the world’s sexiest kidnapper.

CHAPTER 5

HUDSON

Andrea has been relatively quiet since our unfortunate scuffle in the woods. I’m not mistaking her silence as submission, though, as she has been very observant of our route. I note how she stared at the Woonasquatucket river with interest as I drive toward my heavily-gated mansion in Smith Hill. She likes the water.

Typically, I would have a home directly on the water, and I do have a few properties along both the West river and the Woonasquatucket. But I rarely reside there, for good reason; I don’t want an uncontrolled and non-patrolable point of entry to my property; it’s too risky. A lake filled with drunk tourists and impressionable college students isn’t exactly what I call controlled. You don’t reach my level of success and power without a hefty dose of paranoia guiding your every move.

I follow the natural curve of the road, until the heavy iron gate standing tall at the entrance to my property comes into view. Only then do I slow down. There’s a slight movement behind the gate as my men squint to see if I’m in the car–a necessary safety measure to prevent intruders from infiltrating the property–but I’m too impatient to wait for them to confirm my identity, so I tap the button next to the steering wheel, and the gates slide open for me.

Andrea twists around, watching the gates longingly as they slide shut behind the trail of SUVs. An entire convoy of vehicles and several grown men: that’s what it took to get this one infuriating woman into my possession. She’s going to pay for the inconvenience.

“I have fifty–five men on the premises, thirty of whom are guarding the perimeter right now,” I mutter casually. “If you try to run, they won’t hesitate to gun you down.” Truthfully, they wouldn’t dare. I only have about a dozen men on the property, but she doesn’t need to know that.

She turns around with a scowl. The house looms ahead of us, bright from the myriad lights turned on in every room. It gives the appearance of a warm welcome even if it’s just a facade. I roll my AMG range to a stop in front of the steps that lead to the front door of the intimidating house.

The mansion towers above us, looming in the night with its dark, stone exterior and marble pillars. At 15,000 square feet, it’s way bigger than what I–or a family of ten–would need. But this place is not just where I live; it’s also a statement piece to everyone who lays eyes on it. A reminder that I am king of this fucking city. My very own palace.

“Take off your seatbelt,” I say mildly as I turn off the engine.

“Why am I here? Do you know who I am? Is this a scheme to get back at my Dad or brothers? If so, let me tell you now, it won’t work,” she tries to convince me one last time.

It will work; but it would be futile to argue the point. Besides, she's not here to prove a point to anybody. I get out of the car; and as I circle around the back, I see Andrea unbuckling her seat belt. Behind me, the men assigned to grab her are also getting out of the SUVs, minus Archer, who is going to clear the scene of the accident and take care of her car to avoid raising suspicions in the morning.

“Come,” I instruct her as I open her door. I signal at Eli, one of the softer foot soldiers, and tell him in quiet Italian to take Andrea to my room. He does a double take at me, but nods. I’m just as surprised as he is. I have a separate room ready for her, but for some reason, I don’t want her too far from me.

“You’re with Eli, ” I say in English for Andrea’s benefit.

She hesitates, her eyes darting in the direction of the gate. Do it. I dare you. Just when I think she might bolt, a deep bark cuts through the air making her jump slightly. “What was that?” she asks, glancing around.

I tamp down a smile as the bark rings out again, sounding more like a threatening growl this time. “That is none of your business,” I answer just as Maximus lumbers toward me, tongue lolling out.

Andrea starts running to the front door. Eli gives me a deferential nod and follows her. I chuckle just as Maximus reaches my side. “Too bad you can’t meet my new pet yet. Maximus.”

He lets out what sounds like a disgruntled woof, and I rub his scruff for a few seconds. Then I pat his back, sending him back to the garden he came from. I rub my hands together in anticipation as I enter the house and go straight to the first floor study. I turn on the two monitors placed side by side just in time to see Eli leading Andrea into my room on the second floor. I watch as my little captive glances around, taking in her surroundings, but she doesn’t look particularly impressed by the opulence and luxury of my house.

Eli says something to her that makes her frown and then leaves her alone. She watches him close and lock the door behind him; almost immediately, she starts poking around the room, opening drawers, peeking under the bed frame, checking behind the art hung on the wall. My, isn’t she’s a nosy one.

When I decided to take her ,I wasn’t really sure what I would do with her. I just needed to satisfy my need to have her close. I’m still watching her when the door to the study swings open. Only one person would barge in here without knocking, so I don’t bother to acknowledge his presence.

“I see you snatched the Beaufort girl,” Crew states insolently. I clench my fists as I glance at him, waiting for him to continue. He doesn’t disappoint. “I knew nothing good would come out of you having surveillance on her. What the hell were you thinking, H?”

“I don’t explain myself to you, or anyone.”

The bastard only doubles down. We’ve been friends since we were struggling street rats, so, of course, he’s not afraid of me like everyone else is. “Yes, yes, I know.” He waves a hand dismissively. “So, what now? You think her family is just going to take this news lightly? The Beauforts aren’t a family to be trifled with, H.”

Maybe. But until a month ago, their second son was under my thumb, and they didn’t even know it. Ten years Ezra was with us, and he kept it a secret from them, so how smart can they be? “I left them a note.”

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