Page 4 of Fractured Heart

Again, he cuts the Master off. “They’re coming here so I suggest you scurry off and start sorting shit while I handle dressing… her.” I flick my gaze up to meet his, I haven’t looked anyone in the eye for over a decade, the feeling of making eye contact is thrilling but it’s the cunning look in his eyes that has me tensing, Trevante has ulterior motives.

“No, she obeys me and me alone. She will remain in her room and not be seen.” His word is final, without so much as a second glance at anyone I briskly exit and head straight for my room, slightly grateful that I won’t have to persevere with them pawing at me tonight. The moment I enter my room, I close the door silently and retreat to my corner, kneeling on the hard floor with my hands flat against the top of my thighs and my head bowed.

Nerves thrum through me, I hate the anticipation of not knowing what is coming. It's worse when you’re left waiting and wondering because your mind conjures situations that have your blood pumping. The sick and deranged fucks love leaving me on edge wondering what they have cooked up, it’s the nights like tonight that make me crazy and wanting to take a blade to my throat. I would have rather they all take their turns as they walked in, that’s normal, that’s what I’m accustomed to happening.

Trevante

I always knew Karl was a sick and twisted son of a bitch but I didn’t think he was this bad. To kidnap the twin sister of Knox Bronson is suicide as the Canadians have forged alliances with all the other families. They have been playing the long game while Karl has been blinded by rage because he was beaten by a boy half his age. Knox won eight years ago when he took out Giovani and Percy. Karl fled and hid in Ireland and hasn’t left unless summoned to a meeting in Switzerland with the heads of the families.

Coming here tonight for the first time I never expected to see a young woman bent over a table with a line of disgusting fucks waiting for their turn to ram their cocks inside her. She looked frail and battered, her back littered with scars, years upon years’ worth of scars! I stand here seething with my fists clenched at my sides as I watch two men drag that cunt’s lifeless body out of here.

“I should kill you where you stand!” I lazily lull my head to the side to look at Karl, his features taut and I can see the tension rolling off him in waves. My grandfather hates him, he’s never found his son deserving of the title Captain, in Ireland we don’t have dons. Our underbosses are called Clan Chiefs. We also don’t call our heads of enforcers captains, we call them Warlords. I am the Warlord to the The Solomon Organized Crime Group but we are just known as The Solomon. It’s fucking pathetic and sounds stupid but Karl refused to name SOCG anything other than after himself.

“You should but you won’t,” I say in a bored tone. The fat bastard snarls as he stomps toward me, thinking he holds all the power but he has nothing. He is under the illusion that he is the one who holds all the cards because he sits at the head of the family, but that is all about to change. Karl stands before me with his fists clenched at his sides. I know it pisses him off that he has to look up in order to meet my gaze and I relish in that knowledge.

“You think because you came from my nut sack that I will be lenient with you?” Spittle flies from his mouth and lands on my jacket. I make a show of disgust before I swipe that shit away, loving how the podgy fucker vibrates in outrage.

“No. In fact I know you want nothing more than to see me fail, which is why you have kept me as the Warlord and not allowed me to move up in the ranks and I have never complained, not once.” He opens his mouth to no doubt rebuke my claim so I push on. “You have fallen. You no longer control the lands you think you do. While you have been busy chasing after the Don of the Re Della Strada, men have been moving in and taking over your turf. Good luck explaining that to your father,” I sneer as I shoulder past him. Much like his own father, I hate him. Karl is the definition of the word pig.

I walk aimlessly through the house and get an idea of the layout. As I pass through a darkened hallway I stumble and tense at the sound of metal skirting along the floor. Frowning I dart my gaze around until I spot an empty dog bowl.

Karl hates animals!

My attention is snagged when a door at the end of the hall opens and the woman from earlier stands in the doorway with her head down and hands collapsed in front of her naked body.

“You…” I breathe out. At the sound of my voice she snaps her head up and her eyes widen for a second before she drops her gaze and flops to the ground with the grace of a baby horse.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to look upon your face.” I jerk back in surprise.

“What?” I find myself asking as I creep closer to her, only to still a few feet away when I see how tense she grows the closer I get. I run my gaze over her and fight back the rage I feel at the sight of her on her knees and bowing her head like a dog. “Get up,” I snap. She climbs to her feet without complaint and keeps her head down, refusing to meet my stare. “What’s your name?”

“Doxy,” she replies automatically.

“What’s your real name?” I growl angrily, I know Karl already told me earlier but I need her to confirm it. If what he says is true, then this woman is the key to ending the impending war between the families and us.

“Doxy Da Luca,” she answers without hesitation.

“I know who the last name Da Luca belongs to and I have a hunch that your father didn’t give you his last name.” Finally, she reacts in the form of exhaling loudly.

“Doxy Da Luca is my name. If you don’t require my services then I must return to my room until supper.” My brows raise as understanding dawns on me.

“You came out when you heard the sound of the dog bowl…” It’s not a question, just an observation.

“Yes.”

“Motherfuckers!” I snarl. She doesn’t flinch at my angry tone. I want to say more but I can’t because Karl’s men are shouting that cars are arriving, so I rush forward and grip her shoulders. She doesn’t flinch or fight like she has clearly been trained to do. “Listen to me, Waverly.” She hisses at the sound of her real name. “Shit is gonna go down tonight and you need to be ready to leave when I come for you.” She yanks free of my hold and finally meets my gaze with an angry glint in her eyes.

“I will never disobey the Master. I am not Waverly, my name is Doxy Da Luca.” The venom in her tone tells me she isn’t as lost as I originally thought.

“You are not the first Doxy, my mother was.” Her brows raise and her jaw unhinges at my words but I don’t have time to pacify her, I have a part to play tonight and I won’t allow a woman to side track me. “I won’t let you suffer the same fate my mother did. Be ready when I come for you.” I leave her standing there as I rush back to the main area to wait for my grandfather and the others. I lied to Karl, it isn’t just his father and the Clan Chiefs coming, Ian and Andreas are accompanying them to discuss Karl’s surrender. I stay back in the shadows of the large dining room, knowing this is where Karl will host them because it’s the largest space and it oozes riches, even though the fucker is nearly broke. He has spent millions on trying to buy off the right people to side with him and restart an app Percy Deveraux made to sell women but the moment Knox or the Americans catch wind of it they take them out, costing Karl more money than he fucking has. Our family is suffering because of his greed and from what we can gather, the men Karl has here with him are the only ones being paid, unlike the others.

I remain where I am as they all begin to trickle in. I roll my eyes at the sight of Karl perched in his chair at the head of the table, acting like he isn’t bothered by the sight of all these heavy hitters stalking into his luxurious house. It pleases the fuck out of me when Grandpa walks in and Karl stiffens at the sight of him.

“Still a pompous fucking prick I see.” Reid Solomon is a fucking force. Grandpa may be old but he’s still in shape for his age and exudes power. His gray hair is styled and his green eyes hold nothing but malice as he stares his son down. Karl shifts under the pressure of his gaze, his own green eyes narrow as Grandpa opts to sit at the other end of the table, claiming the chair there. I smirk. This is fucking beautiful to see Karl losing power and control over the room as his own Clan Chiefs as well as Andreas and Ian sit down at his father’s end of the table. The mocking chuckle that escapes sets Karl off. He leans forward and pounds his fist on the table, ready to tear into his father no doubt but the words die on his tongue as the last man enters the room.

“You seem surprised to see me.” This guy reeks of arrogance, his black hair a rugged mess atop his head and brown eyes darken the longer he stares at Karl.

“Oh, where are my manners?” Grandpa says with a sarcastic tone. “I apologize son, I forgot to mention I was bringing a friend with me.” I dart my gaze between the black haired guy and Grandpa as he comes to a stop behind him and rests his hand on the back of his chair like he and my grandfather are old friends.

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