Defying Fate (18 page)

“You should be fucking scared of me bitch; you have no idea the things I can do.” Kara is dead serious, unfortunately, her brother has taught her how to fight and fight dirty if needed.

“Please; just go away. My God, Brax what have you got yourself into with these two? Liam are you seriously into her, I mean shit brother your standards have sunk.” She uses her hand to scan Kara’s body.

“Brother?” Kara is startled and looks over at him and then me.

Holding up my drink, I tell her, “Yeah, blonde raving bitch is hot Liam’s sister. Welcome to my world.” Taking a long drink of my beer.

Kara shows the palm of her hand, “Shit, well, hopefully, her brother won’t mind if I kick her ass!”

“I might pay to see it.” Liam responds.

All sets of eyes turn toward him. Wow, can’t believe he just said that.

“Tiff’ get the hell out of here; I will see you tomorrow with Eve, got nothing for you here. Leave us alone and just move on. I will not tell you twice.” Braxton gets up and moves so he is right in her face, hands on his hips.

“Pfft, this little stunt is going to cost you.” Pointing her nasty finger toward me. What the hell, I’m just sitting here?

“Just be warned, I will make sure your latest whore knows where her place is. Enjoy her while you can.” Tiffany turns to strut away.

Liam is now standing up to his sister. “Jesus Christ Tiffany, get out of here before I let Kara kick your ass. Don’t fucking threaten Izzy ever again, you hear me. Don’t mess with Brax either, not anymore.”

“Fucking come near my friend again and I will do more than kick your ass. Don’t push me, you won’t like the results.” Kara comes across cold, very scary.

I like the entertainment, but I’m suddenly bored and ready to leave.

“Thanks Tiffany for ruining our night. The sooner you leave, the sooner Braxton can take me home and put me to bed.” Baring my teeth, I smile and wink; fuck her. Taking one last drink of my beer it’s no longer cold. Yuck.

“Bitch, beware!” Tiffany shouts heading for the door.

She then looks over her shoulder, yelling this time. “Time’s ticking Izzabella, I know your secret!” Walking out the door all I hear is her laughing.

What the fuck did she just call me?

Izzabella!

Fuck, only one person, called me that.

Oh no, what has she done!

Kara goes white; I turn green, as our eyes lock in utter shock.

I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE
she got up and left the way she did; fucking Izzabella. After all I have done for her. I shatter my glass of scotch as I throw it against the wall; trying to release my pent-up anger. The shards of glass reminiscent of what my heart feels like, this strange sense of abandonment is new to me, it’s not a welcome feeling either. Never thought I would have to drop everything just to find my girl. Bitch is forcing me to do things I don’t want to do to her. Holding my head, my extremities are shaking with rage. Punching a wall might help my desire to seek vengeance. My aggressive workouts, since she has left, have done nothing to ease my real feelings for Izzabella. One side of me wants to cherish her sensual body, the other side of me wants nothing more than to punish her. Either way, she is not going to like what I do to her once she returns home to me, and she will return home to me. I will be forced to discipline her and for once in my life, I am struggling with that fact. It’s never been an issue before; I craved her punishments. My sadistic desire as fucked up as it may be; is the only way I know how to be.

Her ungrateful excuse of a family has been all over my shit, asking me how she is. Fuckers never liked the girl, especially after she got her brother killed. They need to leave me be.

Little did they know it was me who killed the bastard; how dare he come and try to take what is mine away from me. Killing him was easy; my job required me to show no mercy it’s who I am. Not only for me, but Izabella needed to watch to see what happens when someone tries to take what is mine away from me. A lesson needed to be taught, so it was done.

Her family thinks I am the one to save their damaged and troubled daughter, writing her off as a bad seed. It makes me sick, how can they just turn their backs on their family, their own blood? But in a way I did the same thing to my sister. Kara being Izzabella’s best friend was inconvenient at most. Not liking to share my girl, even if it was with my sister. Kara wanted to challenge me; she has dared me more times than I like to think. I would admire her for that too, if it weren't for the part where she wants to take Izzabella from me too. Families are messy, butt-in when they shouldn’t. Izzabella Parker’s family was notorious for sticking their noses in where it had no business, diffusing fires with them over the years was exhausting at best. The fucked up part is, I am the devil in all of this and they see me as their daughter’s savior.

Pretty fucked up, but if they want to think of me as the White Prince, who the fuck am I to argue with them? In the beginning, it was so easy with Izzabella. She was sweet and innocent. It didn’t turn into something more until she graduated high school. My beautiful Izzabella always was so quiet and shy. I took hold of her and turned her into this sexy creature. Her inhibitions and insecurities held her back before me, after some training, she was exactly what I wanted, when I wanted it, how I wanted it. She became the woman I desired, the girl I cherished. Only my way of showing it was unconventional. Some call me a sadist fuck, as if I needed a label for what I am.

Sitting at my desk, spinning my pen, my thoughts drift back to the simpler times. In my way, I guess I do honestly love her; in my own sick way. Emotions and love never entered into my mind with anyone. I fucked when I wanted, with who I wanted. Izzabella knew better than to question me if she did well; she did not like the results.

Two punishments were all it took from my hands and knife before she got the idea, yeah I must admit those times with her when it was all punishment was the fucking best. It was her; punishing her that made it all the better. No one got me off like my Izzabella did. She excited me, seeing her afraid in my hands, knowing she would do what I wanted, when I wanted it, rocked my fucking world.

I added in the knife when my threats became futile. Never believing I was going to use it was her first mistake. She disobeyed me with my sister of all people, knew I was pissed beyond belief. I tied her hands to the bed; she was so breathtakingly beautiful. She was under my control, my dick was never so fucking hard in my life. She mocked me and dared me to get on with it. Yeah, she took my punishment fucks like a champ. That night though, her drunken state had allowed her mouth to run wild.

I could not let that stand so I turned up my punishment; I grabbed my favorite knife and slid it along her naked chest. The blade barely caressing her pale skin, I ran it down between her firm yet plump breasts. Her breathing hitched; panicked; her body trembling like a leaf. I loved seeing her in this state of fear, so I continued. I ran it down to her core and split her panties right off her body. She abruptly jerked with a stifled cry. It was a glorious sight to behold.

Grabbing her hip with my other hand, I forced myself into her in a swift motion. Took her hard and fast, seeing the tears run down her cheeks, only fueled the intensity of my fucking. Izzabella scared, turned me on; it fed into my darkest passions. Feeding my soul, I craved more. That was the first night I introduced my knife in her trembling body. The pinch of her skin to the piercing bead of blood that appeared made me climax with such intense force. Her scream, the stream of blood running down her thigh, gave me what I had been craving all my life. Total domination; I owned her. Her body was fucking mine.

My new found love of her cry, her tears, her blood and the blade of my knife proved to be a useful tool with my sweet little Izzabella. Over time, seeing my marks on her proved to me and anyone else that she belonged to me, only me. Scarring that beautiful body so only I would appreciate it, was in part, for my own pure enjoyment. I did place my marks in areas that would be seen by any asshole who dared to sleep with what was already mine.

Izzabella would never want to take another man to her bed knowing her scars would show; how would she explain them. Any normal male would think twice about fucking a woman with knife scars on her most sensitive areas. I made sure they were easily seen, even by her whenever she looked at herself in the mirror; fucking brilliant if you ask me.

Things were great until she ended up pregnant. She was scared shitless, but I also saw happiness behind her eyes. She thought she was masking her real feelings, but I can read that woman better than anyone. I had to come up with some plan, what the hell was I going to do with a kid. My alliance to the ‘Lost Souls’ was my first and only priority. I never wanted a fucking kid, but; it would be an excellent bargaining tool to use with Izzabella.

When the baby came, Izzabella named her ‘Willow’, her attachment was immediate. I allowed them to be together for a few months. It got to be a problem whenever I went to have my wicked ways with Izzabella; she had too many excuses as to why she couldn’t. I am not a patient man by any means. I let that shit fly for a month or so; then it was me and my knife back to work.

Only this time, I had a baby. Izzabella tried to run from me once with the kid. Once she realized that was not going to happen, I took the only thing she loved in this world away from her. Willow, found a new family to raise her; stripped her right from Izzabella’s arms, never to see her again. From there shit got worse; she got her brother involved, and he turned up one night to confront me, me? Stupid bastard!

The bastard died in my hands. I made sure Izzabella saw it all. Fucker came and wanted to get her and the baby free from me. I have no idea how she got the information to her brother, but it could only be one person who leaked her shit; my sister.

Kara and I have a very strained relationship, once she got older and realized just how deadly I became with my band of brothers, she quickly knew her place. It took one of my brothers to show her exactly what would be done to her if she ever got involved. That shit included her best friend; my Izzabella and her offspring.

Turned that shit around, made it look like Izzabella got in a fight with her sick brother and in a heated argument she killed him. Made it look like Izzabella had lost her mind, doing drugs and whoring around town. Izzabella sounded like a messed up girl who was on a road of destruction. Such a blessing I came into the picture and looked after the poor, damaged girl. I was her White Prince that saved her from the path of drugs and uncertainty. This worked like a fucking charm; her family disowned her when the stories came out what happened to her brother. Her fucking father turned her over to me and said she was now my problem, not theirs anymore. Fuck, that was, easy.

Except now, after all the planning and time I had invested in this girl; she upped and left. Bitch knew what she was doing this time. Planned it well, if I didn’t want to kill her, I might just admire the way she did it. Used me and her fucking charms to disarm me and let me lower my guard. Used my tricks on me, hell I fell into her trap; hook, line and sinker. I admire that, but the bitch still has to be punished.

My ringing phone breaks my mental stroll down memory lane. “Yo,” I answer my phone with little or no welcome in my tone. Reliving this shit has me aggravated and pissed off. This tiny petite girl has me all sorts of fucked up.

“Is this Dominic Santos?” A rather sharp voice asks.

“Depends, what the fuck do you want?” I hate playing mind games and how the hell did this woman get my number. Who the fuck could this possibly be? I pulled the phone from my ear to look at the caller I.D. display. Not a number I recognize.

“My name is Tiffany; all, you need to know, is that I know where a particular woman is that you may want to find.” Speaking in a tone that no female ever did around me, this bitch must not know who the fuck she is talking with.

With a raised eyebrow, she does have my attention. “You got my interest! Go on.”

“Does the name Izzy mean anything to you?” She lets her name roll off her tongue with a smart ass undertone. Bitch is going to piss me off if she doesn’t tone down her bullshit. But she does seem to know my Izzabella, so I will have to wait to put this bitch in her place.

On one hand, this was just too easy. My night just got a whole lot better. Looks like I don’t need to spend time finding Izzabella; she came to me in the form of a bitch named Tiffany.

“Izzabella is her name. My Izzabella, how do you know her?” I shouted. Jesus, I hated when people called her Izzy. Her name is Izzabella, just the thought of holding her close to me again. Well, wow.

“Sorry, Izzabella. Do you want the wench or not?” She spits her venom, like my girl is some disgusting low life. Well, that shit just won’t fly with me.

“Don’t you ever call her a wench again. Hear me?” Bitch better fucking hear me.

“L-look; I want her to disappear. She has taken something from me, and she needs to give it back.” Bitch now is talking in a tone more suitable when speaking to Dominic Santos the ‘Enforcer of the Lost Souls.'