Page 18 of Queen's Move

Neither of them made a move as they watched each other in the shadowy room, the crackle of the fire as loud as a gunshot in the silence. Fear overwhelmed her, along with a healthy, if belated, shot of adrenaline. She recognized this moment as the turning point that it was. Her life was about to change. If Sotza took her away with him her life would no longer belong to herself. He’d take away her independence, she’d lose the freedom to make her own decisions. She would be trapped in another mafia marriage. She feared this one would prove more terrifying, more agonizing than the last one she’d endured.

“You won’t stop will you?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

He didn’t answer her question. Instead he said, “It’s time to go, Vee.”

Chapter Fourteen

Sotza lunged for Vee, so fast she barely registered what was happening. One moment he was standing beside her, talking leisurely as though he had all the time in the world. Next moment he was on top of her, crushing her into the mattress, immobilizing her. She tried to fight, she really did, but it was like a huge sack full of bricks had dropped on her. Vee was small and sleight, but she liked to think she knew how to throw her weight around like it meant something. Sotza quickly proved otherwise, pinning her arms against her body and holding her with a ruthless ease.

“Get off me!” she snarled. “You weigh a fucking ton.”

“Are you going to stop fighting?” he asked, easing his weight slightly, but not moving off her. She was trapped under his tall, wiry frame with no way out.

“Yes,” she hissed, lying, quite literally, to his face. “What’s the point in a struggle. We both know you’ll win.”

He studied her, his face mere inches from hers. The subtle spicy smell of his cologne touched her senses, making her stomach feel like jelly. “I don’t believe you, Vee,” he said, his voice growing deeper. She was affecting him. Her body under his, her nearness.

Her mouth watered as she studied his firm lips. She had to give herself a quick mental shake. She absolutely could not lust after the psycho killer. “What do I have to gain by fighting you?” she asked, her own voice husky now.

“Everything,” he said, his grip on her arms tightening in warning as he lowered his head. “You have everything to gain by fighting and everything to gain by surrendering. You see, my lovely lady, the end will be the same no matter what you do. I take you, I keep you, you belong to me.”

She opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off, but like the hawk he resembled, he swooped, taking her lips in a kiss that shook her to her core. This was no subtle touching of mouths, no gentle exploration. This was a claiming. His lips crushed hers, his tongue invading her mouth, stealing everything she refused to give. Sotza was telling her without words that she was done running and that he was dictating her future now.

Fuck that!She was not about to become the conquest of yet another mob boss. Another man who would use her for sex and set her up as a trophy.

She snapped her teeth together in an attempt to sink them into his tongue. He anticipated her move though and retreated for a few seconds, long enough to bring his hand up and grip her jaw in a bruising hold, forcing her mouth open. She let out a garbled protest, but he swallowed the sound in another kiss, this one more intense, more brutal than the last. This was not the prelude to a lover’s tryst, this was war. He was raping her mouth, telling her exactly how things would stand between them.

Tears formed in her eyes. She struggled for breath whenever he gave her the opportunity, sucking in quick gasps before he once more settled his mouth over hers, punishing her. He didn’t explore her body, didn’t tear her clothes away, as she halfway expected. He just assaulted her mouth until she stopped struggling. Once she lay unmoving beneath him, the fight stolen from her, he relaxed the brutality of his kisses, softening them. He still held her jaw immobile, open for his use, but some of her fear ebbed as his kisses turned more playful, more passionate. Like he was rewarding her for not fighting him.

He kissed her lips, licked the inside of her mouth, her teeth, everything. Then he finally allowed his grip to relax, his lips trailing heated kisses across her cheek to her ear and down her neck. Heat flooded her, a warm melting sensation in her stomach.

He lifted his head, looked down at her. His thumb caressed her face, sliding from her chin to her stinging lips. There was a flash of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by a hardening of resolve. His cool, authoritarian façade dropped for a moment and she saw the man beneath The Butcher, saw his need to possess her and own her in those soulless depths. But it was that fleeting moment of surprise that terrified her. Her heart beat a frightened tattoo against her chest as they studied each other. She wondered if he would decide he didn’t want her, didn’t want this. That she’d been fine as the ice queen that would stand at his side, but now that he discovered fire between them, he was having second thoughts.

Finally, after minutes had passed, he spoke. “You have everything to gain by coming to me willingly, Vee. I can give you the world.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she tensed. Far from being too freaked out to follow through on his grand plans involving her, he now seemed even more determined to have her. For a split second she thought about the possibilities of what he asked, thought about what life could be like at his side, his queen, his wife.

But no, eventually he would hurt her like Tony did. Memories of the subjugation and pain flooded through her, fresh, as though it had all happened yesterday. She’d known every kind of pain there was to know at Tony’s hands. She’d discovered a depth of hatred, directed at both her late husband and herself, that she hadn’t known existed. And most of it had hit her after his death, after she’d sobered up. The sharp sting of pain was so much more real when there were no substances to mitigate the awful feelings.

She narrowed her eyes at the man who held her down, tried to force her acceptance and dictate her future. “Fuck you,” she hissed, reaching up with the hand he was no longer pinning to the bed and taking a handful of his hair. She yanked his head back as hard as she could. He was caught by surprise, his head following the movement of her fist so he didn’t lose a bunch of hair in her vicious hold. She reached behind herself, gripping the hilt of the knife she’d strapped in a short leather sheath against the small of her back. She brought the knife between them and placed it against his jugular. She’d been waiting for this moment, waiting for him to get close enough that she could pull her ace. “I’m not going anywhere with you. You’ll have to kill me first.”

Chapter Fifteen

Vee suspected Sotza could easily overpower her, snap her neck before she even knew what was happening. She saw it in his eyes. Saw it, digested it, and still pressed the tip of the knife against his throat. Fuck it. If she was going down, at the very least she was going to spill a few drops of his blood in the process.

He didn’t give her a chance. He twisted away from the knife is one fast, fluid motion. Brutally gripped her wrist, lifted himself slightly and flipped her, forcing her stomach to the mattress, her face smashed into the pillow. He yanked the blankets away from her body, uncovering her sleep top, which was shoved halfway up her back exposing the sheath, and her brief silk shorts. He twisted her arm behind her back, pressing the knife between her shoulder blades before coming down on top of her again. He lay across her body, full weight against her. She held her breath, keenly aware that the sharp blade of the knife was pressed between them, not cutting, but oh so close.

Vee whimpered softly. She didn’t want to die, not really. She was only 37 years old. Though she’d lived a lifetime in those years, she also felt like she hadn’t lived at all. Hadn’t travelled, hadn’t known true love, didn’t get to finish her run as mafia queen. Although, if she died today, she would really only have one regret.

Sotza leaned harder into her, crushing the breath from her chest. He pulled her hair to the side, away from her face, his touch oddly gentle, incongruent with the violence of their exchange. “I would prefer my new bride to come with me undamaged, all of her fingers intact.”

Vee grunted and tried to wiggle, but his weight overwhelmed her. She couldn’t move an inch. She couldn’t even draw in enough breath for a scathing retort. Instead, she was forced to lay beneath him and draw in quick, shallow breaths. Time slowed. Spots began to swarm her vision and she feared she would pass out if he didn’t move.

Finally, he eased his weight just enough for her to draw breath. She wanted to swear at him, to keep fighting, even if it was just verbally. But good sense prevailed and she kept her mouth shut.

“Give me the blade, Vee,” he said, a hard edge to his voice. His breath tickled her ear and sent a shiver through her.

She nodded slightly, the movement causing his chin to brush her neck. The intimacy was getting to her. Her body was responding to him. She knew if she checked her panties she’d find herself wet. What was it about these violent pricks that turned her on so much? At least her head knew better than to get involved with this one.

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