Page 19 of Stolen By the Mafia King
Fuck. The pain. It’s worse than the time, aged fifteen, I was caught by the Camden mafia and they tore off eight of my nails. It’s like I’m being ripped apart. The most important part of my soul is with Jessa. If she leaves she’ll take all the light and hope.
I know I said that it was one day if she played my game. I told myself I could be the good guy here. So I try. “Do you want to go?”
She bites her lip and nods, but it reads like, “No”.
“What do I have to do to persuade you to stay?”
If possible, that makes her look even more miserable. She shakes her head and looks at the ground.
“I’ll employ you to redo the interior design of the whole house.” That should keep her busy, and here, for a while. When she’s finished, I’ll say I don’t like it and demand she does it again. And again. Whatever it takes to have her with me. I wish I was the sort of man who would just lock her up and not give a fuck about his promises or her happiness. If my heart was as cold as it was before I met her, I would shove her into her rooms, shut her in, and fuck her into submission.
I honestly can’t rule out that I won’t get to that point.
Can I really let her go? It seemed so inevitable that she’d want to stay with me once she had a taste of how it was between us.
I promised. I’m a man of my word, and I won—damn but that’s the irony, Iwon—one day with my sweetheart. I just never imagined it would be theonlyday.
“Jessa, I’ll help you leave if you really want.” Letting her go will kill me. Or more likely, I’ll slaughter anyone who crosses my path for as long as she’s not with me.
She nods again, shoulders hunched.
“Twenty-four hours was the deal,” she says, as though I could forget. She wants out, despite all the risks, and all the benefits of staying. “But thank you,” she whispers, clasping and unclasping her hands. “For everything.”
There’s no reply I can give.
Breaking my word is out of the question, but so is allowing Jessa to go. And through the blackness, I see a path, even as a tear slides across the pad of my thumb.
Oh absolutely not. My girl doesn’t cry. I’m clasping her to me before I can think through anything else. I hold her sweet butt tight. My heart splinters. My poor girl.
“You can leave, but it’s not worth it. You won’t be gone for long. We made a deal, and I’ll honour it.” She nods. “That was Plan A though. I’ll put into motion Plan B.”
“Plan B?” she whispers, raising her eyes to mine with a glimmer of hope.
“Another abduction, sweetheart.” I press her closer, so the heat of my body seeps through our clothes and mingles with hers. “No deals this time. No escaping. If you leave at midnight, I’ll just steal you back again. I have to have you with me.”
“But…” She pushes against me a little and her bottom lip trembles. “I can’t stay and be your interior designer. If you don’t want me to bewithyou.”
“What?” This is insane. “What on earth made you think I only want you to redecorate?” I wrap my arms around her so tightly she can’t get away.
“I didn’t think you wanted me,” she says wretchedly.
“That’s ridiculous. I have waited for you and wanted you for years. I told you that. I wasn’t going to negotiate with your brother while you were under his guardianship, but Jessa, I was coming for you as soon as your decisions were your own.”
Her eyes go wide and for a second I think I’ve convinced her.
“We haven’t had sex!” The confession seems to break from her without her volition, and she looks a bit shocked. But now it’s out, she doesn’t stop. “I thought you might not want to because I didn’t have any experience of it. You said,anything you wanted. You told me you’d do dirty and depraved acts. But I’mstilla virgin. I gave you every opportunity. I need it to be you, Grant. You… Cheated me out of what you promised. Dirty and depraved andsex.” She’s breathing hard and losing confidence by the second.
I have just enough rational mind to answer her question rather than simply kiss her, pull up that cute skirt, shove her against the wall of the house and take her. Cheated, indeed.
“We couldn’t, because if we did, you’d end up pregnant,” I reply baldly.
“You don’t want kids.” Her expression drops again. Sad. Disappointed. “We could have used a condom.” She clutches at my shirt but won’t meet my eyes.
“With you, I want kids,” I correct her. “The reason we didn’t have sex with a condom is this: I don’t want to use them with you. The first time I’m inside you, I want it to be you and me and no barriers between us. I have to breed you. When I fill you up with my come, I have to know you could be pregnant with my baby afterwards. That’s the real reason, sweetheart.”
“Right,” she scoffs, even as I think she might burst into more tears. And that strengthens my resolve. She belongs with me. Whatever misguided notions she has, we’re going to be together. “So you can have a boy to take over Lambeth and a girl to sell off in marriage. I should go.” But she doesn’t attempt to move from my arms.
“If that’s what they decide, sure. I want smart kids to follow in my footsteps,” I say. She scowls. “And I also want silly kids and sweet babies. I want rebellious kids who become lawyers or teachers. Funny kids who prank me and make me threaten to murder them. I want kids as brave and resourceful as their mother, and cunning as their father. I want innocent kids who read and play games and are a bit horrified by what their father does.”
