Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance (11 page)

“And is this how she normally dresses?” Roman asks innocently, squinting at me. I see Daddy's cheeks deepen into crimson, and Alek’s hands claw at the tablecloth.

“She has excellent taste,” Daddy says.

“Oh, I have no doubt, Don Lauro,” Roman says. He looks at Daddy and nods with a thoughtful frown. He looks as though he's negotiating for a better price, and Daddy looks like he's about to have a stroke. “I just want to be sure that our apparent cultural differences are not going to be a problem. I only want to make your daughter happy, of course.”

“Of course you do!” Alek adds. There's a warning edge to his voice that Roman seems intent to ignore.

“What exactly is the nature of your concern, Roman?” Daddy growls.

“Well…” Roman begins, shrugging. He bounces his head from side to side as though uncertain about the words he wants to say. “I suppose what I'm really wanting to know is, will she be… How shall I put this? Obedient?”

Daddy shakes his head irritably. “Of course she's obedient. She's my daughter.”

“And does she understand the position of the woman in the family?”

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean,” Daddy says.

“Well, in our culture… The man is… How can I say it? The man. The woman is the woman.”

Daddy rolls his eyes as though relieved. “Oh, Roman. I assure you, you'll have no problem with that. Marie is a very good girl. A
very
good girl. She understands her place, to be sure.”

Roman looks back at me. My mouth snaps shut, even though I didn't realize that it had been open. My spoon just hovers in the air where the soup has gone cold inside it. He fixes me in a calculating sneer.

“You'll do as you're told,” he says, and I nod even though it wasn't a question. Even though he didn't indicate that I had any say so in the matter at all.

“You're owned now, do you understand what that means? You’re
mine
.”

I see Daddy shaking in his chair.

I nod once. Owned. Was there ever a time when I wasn't owned?

“Of course… Roman is merely translating from the Russian!” Alek interrupts, laughing thinly. “In our language, that word means something less harsh…”

Roman ignores Alek completely and turns back to Daddy. Holding his hand open in the air, he works his mouth around one last thing he needs to say. “Such a gift you've given me, Don Lauro. I am honored. And she does seem to be a good girl. But just to be sure… She is...
innocent
?”

My mouth falls open again and my heart stops. I'm not sure I'm ever going to be able to breathe again.

Daddy goes from crimson to purple. “Absolutely,” he growls. I can hear his teeth grinding together.

Roman nods thoughtfully, his brows folded over and knotty. He looks around the room and takes a few deep breaths. “You're absolutely certain? A girl so beautiful… She can remain innocent until now?”

Roman looks at me again, his eyes narrow and cruel. Quaking in my dress so hard that I’m afraid I will crumple at any moment, I am in utter shock. He registers almost no recognition of me at all, certainly not anything like the shocked, tentative tenderness I saw in his eyes last night.

I can't believe Daddy would just trade me to a man like this, to this monster. And I can't believe that this monster would insult Daddy in his own home. I'm half hoping that Jimmy Two-Fist is about to burst in the door and put a bullet in this guy’s brain.

“Well?” Roman says directly to me. “You're being delivered to me… intact?”

He's making me say it. Rage fills me, and I want to scream. I want to cry, to protect myself this humiliation. I glance at Alek just as he turns away, shaking his head slightly.

I should say no, just tell the truth and let them deal with the consequences. I should call these men out right now, and let Jimmy and Ronnie burst in and tear them to shreds. They would never stand a chance.

But I also want to protect Daddy from this humiliation. He's never had a man speak to him this way in his own house, I am absolutely certain of it.

I place my fist on the table and push myself slowly to standing, somehow managing to get my quaking legs underneath me.

“I am everything that you were promised,” I say in a slow, clear voice, holding Roman’s gaze stubbornly until my eyes burn. “Daddy, thank you so much for dinner. I think the excitement has gotten to me…”

Daddy's eyes meet mine. His face is a mask of rage and disappointment. I know that in his heart, he never meant to hurt me this way. And yet, what good is duty if everything is easy? He’ll never even know how deeply he has wounded me.

“You do look a bit pale, Marie,” he says in a low, weary voice. “Nuncio will take you home.”

I nod, grateful that there is an escape being opened for me. But as I begin to pivot away from the table, Roman rises from his seat and strides toward me with his arms out. Before I can do anything, he's folded me in an embrace, holding me against his broad chest in a way that makes me feel so small, so delicate and fragile, that I'm afraid I’ll break.

But I do not want to break, I want to kill him. I want to slice his throat open with a steak knife. I want to burn the other side of his face with the soup. Anything, anything to get away from this man.

“Sleep well,
principessa
,” Roman scoffs. He seems to know everything I'm thinking, and I hate him for that too.

And then he releases me, setting me back down and nudging me toward the door with his fingertips, like a toy that he set on its course. I walk out of the room with much dignity as I can muster, leaving the men to talk about their business without me.

ALEK

The little princess runs out of the room, and I turn to her father with a shrug.

“She's very fiery,” I observe. I can’t help but smile, even though Don Lauro looks displeased. He opens his mouth to say something and I interrupt with a small bow. “I’d like to walk her to her car, if it's all right with you,” I say politely.

The fat, arrogant man settles back in his chair. He is so slow, so lazy, just like the rest of them. He just gave away his daughter, and let Roman insult him in his own house. Unbelievable, these people. They don't deserve the luck they've had.

Still, the situation could get so much worse and I feel like I should do something to help. Roman knuckles his chin and slumps back in his seat, refilling his wine glass to the brim without waiting for the housemaid or anything.

I give Roman a small signal to return to his usual non-speaking self so that I can handle this and catch his minute nod in response. I suspect he’s out of words anyway. That’s the most I’ve seen him speak in years. Usually he leaves the conversation to me, but she must have inspired him.

I leave the dining room and spot that flash of red as she turns a corner into a dark room. Following her quietly, I slip into the room behind her and find her standing next to the curtain, her hands against the wall, her shoulders shaking.

“Allow me to walk to your car,
principessa
,” I say softly into the dark room.

She spins around, her eyes flashing at me, her hands up as though she's going to claw my eyes out. For some reason, I'm excited about the idea. I reach out, snapping her elbows down to her sides and holding her still as she thrashes back and forth. “Oh, you think you can fight me? You must be insane. We like insane.”

“Get your hands off me!” she hisses.

I hold her still, careful not to bruise or hurt her in any way. You have to be cautious with someone so delicate, they can break so easily. And I don't want to break her, I just don't want her leaving scratch marks across my skin that her father will notice when I go back to the dining room.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Keep struggling, Marie,” I say, drawing her close enough that I can smell the sweat at the base of her neck. She snaps her teeth at me like she's going to bite me. “Keep struggling. I like it.”

“You're disgusting,” she hisses.

I nod and shrug. “So I'm disgusting, so what? We still own you, Marie. You understand that?”

“You don't own anything,” she snarls. “When Daddy finds out how your… What you just said —”

“And then what? What do you think will change?”

“He’ll… He’ll…” she sputters, searching for words and thrashing back and forth every time I ease up even a little. “He’ll call it off!”

I roll my eyes, though I don’t think she can see me in the dark. “He won’t, and I’m afraid you already know that,” I explain gently.

“This is… This is insane!”

“Yes,” I agree with a laugh. “Isn’t it?”

“Let me go!” she hisses, twisting and struggling all over again. I pull her toward me to suppress her thrashing, though now she’s rolling her backside back and forth over my cock again and I’m getting hard enough to poke through the top of my trousers.

I sort of wish she’d been like this last night instead of so pliable, so wanting. A little resistance can be fun too.

“I can’t let you go, Princess!” I chuckle. “You were given to us, fair and square as you say.”

“Us?” she repeats, aghast. “What do you mean...
us
?”

“Oh I think you know,” I murmur in her ear.

Pausing for a moment, her breath finally comes out in a long, whimpering sigh. “No,” she whispers. “No, Alek. That’s not possible. No!”

I shrug, relishing the way her pulse throbs against my fingertips. She feels so alive in my hands, like I can see through her to her heart. Strangely, I want to cage her against me, to preserve this vivid, throbbing sensation.

“But, it is possible. Your father may not realize it, but Roman and I… well, we share everything, of course.”

“No!” she insists, though I can hear the conviction in her voice faltering. “He’ll never agree to it! When Daddy finds out—”

“— When your daddy finds out what kind of real girl you really are?” I tease. I release her and she backs away, facing me with her hands out and searching like she wants something to grasp. Even in the darkness, I can see her panting, her skin flushed and shiny. To tell the truth, I like her like this. I'd heard about Italian girls being fiery, and apparently this is the truth.

“Go on, tell him,” she snarls. "I dare you. He would never believe you anyway.”

Clucking my tongue, I have to shake my head. “What a little princess you are. Look at you, I bet you never fought for anything your whole life, right? What a spoiled brat! You should learn some manners.”

Her mouth drops open, forming that perfect O again. I really like it when she does that, and my cock jumps in my pants. I'd love to get my dick between those lips, if only to shut her up for a minute.

“You don't know anything about me!”

“I know everything I need to know, Princess,” I say, coming close to her again. She's breathing so fast that the front of her dress brushes against my chest every time she inhales. She's trembling, sure, but she's not running away. Not yet.

“I hate you,” she breathed.

“Well I
own
you,” I remind her, whispering it right into her ear. I can hear her heartbeat almost, that salty fear smell.

She's like a rabbit or some other frightened small animal. And yet, she hasn't run away. That's intriguing. Even here, standing right in front of her where she should be terrified, and probably is, she's either too brave or too stupid to simply run.

“I have special expectations of you, Princess. And you're going to start with respect.”

“Let me go.”

“I will let you go, when I'm ready. Not a moment before. Your first duty is to pay for your rudeness. And for your lies.”

She gasps, a sound so charming that I'd like to fuck her right now. But not yet. Not until I'm certain.

“I don't know what you… I didn't —”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” I cluck at her. “No more lies, Princess. Don't make this worse.”

She puts her fists on her hips. “Don't make what worse?” she demands in a quiet, rage-filled voice.

I'm so glad she asked. Without another word I take her by the elbow and tug her toward me, twisting her over my knee as I drop into the chair behind me. She gasps in muffled surprise as I bend her over my lap and pull her dress up to expose her soft, pink bottom. The moment that my palm connects with her skin, her whole body stiffens and she yelps in surprise.

Just two, that's all. Just two swats across her beautiful backside. That should make my point.

Then I put my hands up in the air and release her, letting her scramble to the floor and then lurch toward standing. She yanks her dress down and works her jaw back and forth like she's trying to get words out of her mouth.

“How — I can't —
how dare you!
”

My palm floats up to my face and I inhale deeply, catching just a whiff of her skin on my skin. Delicious.

“I take what’s mine,” I explain. “But don't push me, Princess. You're not royalty to me. You’re just something I own.”

“You’re a
bastard
!”