Page 29 of Blackmailed to the Altar

She cried out, “I’m yours.”

I exploded inside of her, from her words and obedience. Panting, I pushed her off my cock and fixed my clothes.

“Clean yourself up and get dressed. We’re leaving.”

My little firecracker slid off the table, and almost stumbled forward. I reached my hands out to stabilize her, but she flinched away so hard that I didn’t want to try to touch her again.

I stood back, shoved my dirty gloves back on, and then slid my hands in my pockets, as she pulled her clothes over her naked, bloody body. It wasn’t her blood, of course, it belonged to Elio. I whipped out my phone and sent a text to Daveed.

He sent back the middle finger emoji, but I knew he would show up and clean up my mess.

I saw Mya had her clothes on, and I ushered her out of the restaurant. We got dues from this family, so I wasn’t worried about the police coming. I was more concerned about my little firecracker.

She hadn’t said two words since I fucked her on top of that corpse. Her silence was like a challenge. My beautiful, defiantfirecracker. I thought she would be more immune, since she had a PhD and all, but I guess her reaction wasn’t strange by any means.

I was the odd one.

We made it back to the villa in record time. I waited for Mya, hoping I could get her a plate from the kitchen, but she rushed away from me, and up the stairs, before I could finish closing her car door.

By the time I made it into her room, she was in the shower. I changed my gloves, and headed back downstairs to make her a plate of leftovers. She was still cleaning herself when I placed the food tray on her nightstand.

I waited for her, sitting on the bed and taking off my jacket. It was time my little firecracker and I had a heart to heart. I didn’t want to keep punishing her like that, but if she was going to be a strong mafia wife, then she would have to understand what this lifestyle was about.

In addition, I needed to find out if there were any messes I had to clean up. Like Sebastian and Silas, my little firecracker was impulsive. From the looks of things, she hadn’t really covered her tracks. I would have to teach her better.

“What are you still doing here?” she gasped, a towel covering her naked body.

My mouth dropped open at the sight of her dark skin covered in water droplets. I wanted to lick each one off her body, but now wasn’t the time. I rearranged my dick in my pants, and shook my head, trying to clear her alluring body from my mind.

“Tell me about your prison reformation program,” I said after getting a grip on my emotions. This woman brought me to my knees at times, but she didn’t even know the power that she wielded.

“It’s a clinical research program, that helps prisoners with a high likelihood of reoffending, not to.” She gave me the Psychology Today, cookie cutter, bullshit answer.

“That’s horse shit, and you know it. What are you really doing?”

She walked into the closet to throw a T-shirt over her damp skin. “That’s it.” Her muffled voice came from inside the walk in.

“No, there’s a reason you are doing this, little firecracker, and you will tell me,” I demanded outside the double doors she’d closed behind her.

They swung open, and she flounced out, dropping to the bed. “Like I said, I want to help reoffenders get back into society without causing undue harm again.”

I crept up to her until I was towering over her curvy body. I grabbed her face, and squeezed her cheeks, until tears leaked out of her eyes. “I-I’ll tell you,” she cried.

When I didn’t let go, she whimpered. “I-it hurts.”

I released her, and she fell back on the bed with a hitched sob. “Tell me what I want to know.”

I sat on the bed next to her, my body turned to hers, trying to focus on our conversation, and not that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath my shirt she just threw on.

“I do it because of my parents,” she grumbled, looking away from me.

“Little firecracker, we both know that’s not all there is to the story. Your records alone indicate something happened. What was it?”

I wanted to understand why she did what she had. She was sweet, innocent, and yet she drugged unsuspecting patients, putting her medical license at risk. Something I knew she worked hard toward, judging by her passion in her sessions.

“I-I can’t,” she whispered.

Her skin took an ashen hue, and I knew she felt sick. What the fuck happened?

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