Page 4 of Devious
Devious
Iperch at the black marble table in the dining room and sip my cup of joe, reading a psychological thriller, while waiting for Roselyn.
When I went to Lex’s place, I didn’t have any intention to marry his daughter in exchange to pay off his debt, but he convinced me to, said she would be a good mother. I needed a wife to have my babies in the future, and Lex needed to pay the thirty million that he owed me. I didn’t want to kill him—I mean, I would have if I needed too, but he makes me the most money, though it’s not my problem that he has a gambling problem. Next time he decides not to pay me my money, I’m going to kill him.
I’m quite curious about Roselyn, and I’ve never seen a woman who is graceful with such beauty, but women like her usually don’t make good mafia wives. They are usually the type that want to be free from this lifestyle, and I’ve witnessed a lot of the underbosses kill their wives because they tried to run away. They can’t leave unless their spouse dies.
I glance down at my Rolex and see it’s five after eight. She was supposed to be down here five minutes ago, and one of the things I hate is someone making me wait. She’s about to learn her first lesson in obedience. Grinding my teeth, I get up from the table and straighten my red tie.
As I barge in the bedroom, she lies on the bed, face down, with her face buried in a thick fluffy pillow. I snatch the black blanket from her body, and the bottom of her dress is pulled above her stomach, exposing her pretty, plump ass. I keep forgetting that she’s fifteen years younger than me.
I’ve never been with a woman her age. My dick is engorged, making my black dress pants tighter. The tip of my head burns as it rubs against the metal zipper of my pants, so I adjust myself.
She turns her head to the other side, and it reminds me how the minute I laid eyes on her, I was obsessed. This need to want her grew, which is strange because I’ve never taken a real interest in another woman since Shelby died.
Leaning forward, I smack her ass as hard as I can, and her cheeks turn a rose color.
She turns around and bolts up, rubbing her flesh. Her eyes widen, and then she frowns. “Dude, what the fuck?”
I adjust my tie and tug at the hem of my cuff links. “You’re late for breakfast. Do not leave me at the table waiting. Do I make myself clear?” I grit out.
“I lo—”
“Do I make myself clear?”
“I’m ju—”
I pin her head back into the pillow, and smack her ass again. She hisses like a snake.
“Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” she mumbles, leaping out of the bed.
I fight the urge to smack her ass again. This rebellious behavior will not be tolerated. No wonder Lex had a problem getting her married off to other underbosses. Lex also told me she’s spoiled and acts like an entitled brat. Of course she is. All girls who are born in higher-rankfamigliastend to behave in that manner. But she won’t be once I’m done with her. If she pushes me to the point of breaking her, I will not hesitate to do it.
Letting her go, I say, “Yes. You have thirty minutes to meet me for breakfast.”
I leave her in the bedroom and stomp to the dining room, taking my seat once again at the head of the table.
I run my fingers through my hair before grabbing my mug, sipping slowly from it as the lukewarm coffee goes slowly down my throat.
Thirty minutes later, Roselyn hurries to the table, yanks out the wooden chair, and sits across from me. She examines the expensive Greek statues which cost more than this penthouse and the chandelier made out of real diamonds. Her eyes bounce everywhere but to me. She’s so fucking beautiful. Her wet strawberry blonde hair cascades down her back, and her face is angelic. The more I stare at her, the more she reminds me of a past that I want to forget, the one thing that haunts me at night.
She wears an oversize shirt with baggy jeans, trying to hide her figure from me. No matter how much she dresses like a hobo, it won’t keep me from fucking her on our wedding night. I fight the urge to push every dish on the floor, lay her on the table, and eat her pussy until she’s begging me to stop. I want to duct tape her mouth, tie her hands behind her back and fuck her until she can’t take it anymore.
Swallowing, I adjust myself under the table.
My chef, Leanne, strolls in, setting a plate of breakfast food in front of Roselyn.
“Do you need anything, Mr. Cayden?” Leanne asks.
All my staff and employees call me by my real name while everyone else calls me by my street name.
I hold my gray mug up to her, and she clutches it. “Refill on my coffee.”
She disappears into the kitchen.
“Let’s discuss business, shall we?” I sit forward, leaning my arm against the table. “First things first. We’re getting married two weeks from today. You’re going to lose your virginity to me on our wedding night to pay off Lex’s debt.”
