I make sure to pick up the engagement ring before I head back into the hills.
It’s a beauty. A diamond fit for a princess. Before my disastrous meeting with the syndicate, I thought I might hold off on giving it to Elisa until we were closer to the wedding date. Let her bend a little more under my tongue before I ask for her finger.
But there will be no asking or waiting anymore. Any softness in my treatment of the D’Ignoti princess has frozen over after seeing her father today.
That bastard is playing me. He’s playing us all. Now, because of his sudden re-appearance, I have to worry about The Family turning their backs on me too.
It’s a good thing that I have just as many resources on my own as they do combined. My dirty cops outnumbered Manuel Vignotto’s security detail as they accompanied Ciro to Calligastaro’s. And I’m able to pay the good officers a small fortune to stay nearby and keep watch among the makeshift prison’s other guards, who owe loyalties to both me and the syndicate.
Now is not the time to trust anyone who isn’t Irish. Now is not the time to trust anyone who hasn’t proven themselves to be entirely faithful.
Now is not the time to trust. I even left my Ducati back in the city in favor of an armored caravan. The helicopter was waiting for me on the outskirts. After I picked up the ring, I was off. Back to see my captured princess and show her just what her daddy is making me do to her.
She is her father’s daughter, after all. Malicious. Evil. All that darkness runs through her blood just as it runs through his. Any sympathy I show Elisa is an opening for him.
No more taking it slow. No more Mr. Nice Guy. It’s time to move forward, whether she likes it or not.
Unfortunately, when I return to the Catskills, I’m immediately reminded of my own weakness. An act of kindness I set in motion before I left for that disastrous meeting.
Elisa’s clothes have arrived from her father’s old place, a gentle response to her complaint about the wardrobe I bought her. Half of them are already upstairs in her room. I stop Meave and the other maids from bringing the rest up. The older woman doesn’t ask questions, but Tara isn’t happy about it.
“You can’t keep treating her like this,” she pleads, following me up the stairs. “She’ll go crazy.”
“Good.” I want her to break. I want Ciro to see the shell I’ve made out of his bright innocent young daughter.
“Monster,” Tara whispers.
That word coming from her mouth makes me stop in my tracks. My frozen heart twitches. What I am is no secret to my old friend, but she’s never called me a monster before, not to my face.
“So be it,” I say, holding Tara’s gaze. She’s upset. Understandable. But that doesn’t mean I have to be. “This is the price we pay to be king. To be in here instead of out there.” I gesture to the nearest window, to the endless expanse of impenetrable forest outside. It’s cold and lonely and dark, and I know Tara and I have both had enough of that in our lives.
“How can you be so cold? Don’t you remember what it was like to be the one in chains?” She’s not letting up. Even as I turn from her and walk away, she follows, a nagging shadow of morality.
“I remember all too well what it was like to be in her spot. That’s why I’m doing this, Tara. It’s necessary.” Despite my words, I’m suddenly fighting a fierce internal battle. Tara just plunged a battering ram into the walls I’ve built around the memories of my own captivity. Seeing Ciro today made them weak, and now Tara seems determined to finish the job.
I’ll never forget why I’m doing this. But in order to keep my sanity, I’ve had to lock away parts of my past. Confronting them head on would leave me too unstable.
“Necessary for what? Your own pleasure? Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing to her in there. We can hear the screams…”
“Then you know she’s enjoying it.”
Tara huffs, struggling to keep up. My stride is long and purposeful and hers is short and hurried. “Don’t pat your own back too hard, boss. You’re playing a dangerous game. Whatever she’s giving you is because you’ve starved her for attention. How could you want that? Knowing that your bride-to-be only drinks at your well because it’s all you allow her. The Aiden I know wouldn’t make it so easy. He enjoyed a challenge.”
Fucking hell. That stops me in my tracks again. “You think this isn’t a challenge? What do you think is happening here, Tara? I’m not doing this for my own pleasure. This is work. She’s an asset. If it were a game, you’d be right. I’d be cheating. But this is no fucking game. Everything we have is on the line and if I ever treat this like a fucking game, then you might as well shoot me where I stand!”
I rarely raise my voice around Tara. She’s like a little sister to me and despite her fierceness, our battles rarely cross any lines. But right now, she’s seeing right through me. She knows that I feel more for Elisa than I’m letting on. The D’Ignoti princess is turning from an important asset to something more. Something that I might think twice about breaking without mercy. Something that will wither away if I don’t allow some sunshine in, or another source of water besides myself.
I start walking again, but we stop once more just down the hall from Elisa’s room. Tara puffs, hands on her hips. “Don’t lose yourself to this darkness, Aiden. You may have been strong enough to pull me out of it, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do the same for you. At least, not if you fall any further.”
I stand before her, hating that she’s not wrong. “I’m done falling,” I dismiss her. “Now go help Meave ready the dining table.”
“What about the rest of Elisa’s clothing? And her books?”
Fuck, they brought her books too?
“My room.”
Tara’s lips open like she’s ready to talk back some more, but then she thinks better of it. Instead, she turns and marches away and I take a moment to steady myself.
Tara is forcing me to confront what I’ve been trying to avoid. Not many people can do that. But I can’t afford to start a war with the monster inside of me. Not right now.
So much is happening. It’s been six days since I took over my family’s empire, and every day things have gotten worse.
First, I lost Ciro. Now, he’s returned, and I risk losing everything else. It’s imperative that I speed up this process. The Family needs to see that if they go against me, even a little, no one they love will be safe. Not themselves. Not their families. Not even their innocent daughters.
It’s the only way to protect my family from what’s coming. Whatever that is. Fuck. I can feel something big on the horizon. A storm. But I don’t know what it is. The Russians? What the hell do I have of theirs? Ciro? What game is he playing? Is The Family in on it?
My mind reels. I’m forced to push everything back and concentrate on what’s directly in front of me. Elisa waits in her bedroom. I have her ring in my pocket. Tomorrow, she’ll be fitted for a wedding gown. Then, we pay her dear old dad a visit. But not before I strip away her last bits of innocence. The innocence that he spent all of her life protecting oh-so dearly. He needs to see what I’ve done, and then so does everyone else.
Tara may be safe from my wrath because we share a history. But I don’t share any such history with Elisa. Only with her father. Right now, that’s all that matters. When I look at her, I need to see that cruel ugly face that kept me in captivity; that threw me in the hole whenever I acted out; that kept me from saying a proper goodbye to Mom.
But that proves to be impossible.
When I step into her room, I’m reminded of just how beautiful she really is. Too beautiful for this dark world. Too pure. Too innocent.
Too easily corruptible.
Or so I thought.
She waits for me in a stubborn stance. Arms tucked under her breasts, back straight, eyes focused.
My cock goes rock hard.
“Waiting for me?” I tease. She’s wearing an outfit I’ve never seen before. Sweats, from head to toe. Clearly clothes from her past life. Clothes I foolishly brought back for her. As hot as she looks right now, she’d look better naked.
“It’s not like I have much of a choice,” she says, hardly grateful for the comfort I’ve provided her. Maybe that’s because she’s figured out that I’ve halted the return of the rest of her clothes and books. What favor does she think I’ll ask for in return for the rest of her comfortable memories?
“That’s true. It’s nice that you’re finally learning. You have no choice. Still, I see you’ve managed to make yourself at home.” I gesture over to the messy pile of clothes by the open closet. My staff would have hung them up. Elisa would have ripped them down.
“I was organizing,” she grimaces. The word ‘home’ clearly rubs her the wrong way.
“And what do you have to say to me, for giving you something to organize?”
Elisa hesitates, before meeting my gaze with something other than resistance or fear. “Thank you,” she says, so softly I can barely hear it. Was that actual gratitude?
Suddenly, I feel like a complete asshole. Maybe Tara was right…
No. I remember the paranoia that seeped into my gut earlier today, at my disastrous inauguration meeting. It’s enough to swat away the weakness. This needs to be done.
“It was my pleasure, princess. But tonight, you’ll be wearing one of the dresses I bought for you.”
Elisa scrunches up her little button nose. “Why?”
Her confused face turns me on almost as much as her angry and defiant look does—though, neither hold a candle to the way her features fall when she’s at her most innocent.
“Because we’re having dinner together.”
There it is. Elisa’s lips drop and her jaw falls. Innocence. Perfection. “You’re letting me out of here?”
“Out of this room,” I nod. “But only if you promise to behave.”
Conflict replaces her softness once again. She doesn’t want to give in and reach for the key of freedom I’m dangling above her pretty little face, but she also wants to so badly. “I’ll behave,” she whispers, her pale cheeks flushing with shame.
“Good girl. Now, which dress should we have you wear.”
“I don’t care.”
“We can have you eat naked.”
That snaps her head back up. “I’d rather not.”
I chew the inside of my lip. “Now that I mention it, I think I’d prefer you naked. Yes, that’s what we’ll do.”
“No! I’ll wear one of your stupid dresses,” Elisa jumps. Then I hear it, muttered under her breath. Too boldly. “You monster.”
Monster. It’s become a trigger. Suddenly, I’ve had enough of this game. Tara’s words come back to haunt me. Sick of the teasing, I pounce at my captive bride. She’s not quick enough to avoid me, and my fingers dig into her tender jaw. Terror replaces her school girl defiance. “No games, princess. Do as I say, when I say it. Understand?”
Tears well up in those big beautiful eyes. “Who are you?” she hisses, her bottom lip quivering. I want to kiss it.
“I’m Aiden Kilpatrick. CEO of Kilpatrick Inc., Don of the Kilpatrick family. Ruler of New York. Your master.”
Elisa doesn’t hesitate to respond. “I’ve heard that already. That’s not what I mean,” she rasps, still under my grip. “Who are you right now? Not the man who walked in here. That man is gone. He wasn’t someone who would do this to me. But you are.”
She sniffs back tears and I let her go. “You don’t know me, or what I’m capable of,” I growl. But she’s got me.
Fuck. I’m losing control. Of my empire and myself. Fucking Tara. She should have let me live in my willful ignorance. Now, Elisa has seen right through me too.
“What do you want from me?” she whispers, teetering where I left her.
For a second, I seriously consider her question. Then I think better of it. My anger won’t let me be honest, with her or myself. Any regret I feel needs to be pushed deep down into the darkness. It’s the only way to survive.
So, instead of answering, I reach back for Elisa’s tender face. She winces, but I manage to cup her jaw and wipe away the single tear that runs down her cheek. “Dinner will get cold,” I say, not daring to apologize.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then don’t eat. We are still going to dinner. Outside.” I let that last word stretch out. She hasn’t even been out of her room since I took her six days ago. She should be chomping the bit for a little fresh air.
“Fine,” she relents.
“Good girl. Now, pick a dress and put it on.”
That gives her some life. “You’ll let me choose what to wear?”
“Only if you hurry.”
There’s no more playing around on her end. The second I let my hand fall from her face, she scurries towards the messy closet. Her salty tear lingers on my thumb. I rub it against my lower lip, tasting the sadness. It’s not as delicious as I would have hoped.
It doesn’t take long for Elisa to pick a body-hugging black gown. She tugs it down from a hangar and pushes it towards me. “How’s this?” she asks, her voice flat and emotionless. My mouth waters at the thought of her in it.
“Put it on.” She turns, but I stop her. “Tsk-tsk, little flower. You should know better by now.”
With a deep breath she turns around and steps out of the closet. Her eyes are a light shade of pink as they stare at my feet.
It makes me feel like shit. I’m really crushing her spirit. Fucking hell. That’s what I wanted, right?
Only, I’m not so sure anymore. It’s the spirited part of her that I actually like.
But it’s also what needs to be crushed. For business. For my empire. For my family.
I suck it the fuck up.
“Let’s see how it looks on you,” I say. “Let’s take that baggy sweatshirt off first.”
Elisa drops the dress with contempt and slowly shimmies her top off. The heft of her breasts bounces as she throws the baggy sweatshirt onto the floor. My cock becomes so hard that it threatens to rip through my pants. But I hold back, if only to see what comes next. With little hesitation, Elisa slides off her pants. The gap between her perfectly plump thighs has me twitching beneath the belt.
“Do you need a bra for this dress?” I ask.
Elisa takes a second look at the black gown on the floor. “Yes, I think so.”
“Then go grab one.”
“Whichever one I please?”
I smile at the question. That’s what I’m looking for. Subservience. “Yes, princess.” Really, I just want to see that tight little ass as she turns around to head back into the closet. But the tinge of excitement in her voice about finally getting to make her own choice on something, no matter how small, might be making my heart race even faster.
“How’s this one?” she comes back out with a black bra in hand.
“Let’s see what it looks like.”
She puts it on. The dark material elegantly cradles her perfect breasts. “What do you think?”
“I think you look best naked,” I say, before quickly adding. “But they will do. Panties or no panties?”
Elisa looks back down at the dress. Her innocence scrunches up again. “Panties.”
That’s not what I wanted to hear. But I’m trying to absolve myself of the taste of her tear. “Very well.”
I get my view of her ass again as she skips back into the closet, coming out a second later with a pair of panties. She slips them on and then stands back up at attention. The sultry lingerie gives her a less innocent look. In fact, like this, she could easily be mistaken for an actual mob boss’s wife.
“Now the dress.”
Elisa obeys. When it’s on, I have to bite the inside of my lips so hard that I nearly draw blood, all just to keep myself from pouncing on her. She looks good. Better than good. Gorgeous. Even better than I imagined she would when I first saw Nolan’s photographs.
“Here.” I gesture with my index finger for her to approach.
She follows my command. Her toned thigh sneaks out from a slit cut in the left side of the gown. Each step she takes threatens to blind me.
Stay focused, Aiden.
Still, I reach out and take her hand when I decide that it’s time for dinner. “Is that all?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. But the rest can wait.”
