Beautiful Trouble: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs Book 2) Read online

  “Foolish,” Old Bern said, shaking his head, but he frowned thoughtfully.

  Maeve narrowed her gaze in my direction. “And what does she think about all this? Is the girl prepared to smooth you out, as you say?”

  I looked at Winter.

  Hate gazed back.

  “No.”

  Winter turned and fled. She ripped open the doors and disappeared into the hall.

  Silence fell. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

  “She’ll change her mind.”

  “Sounded like you should return the engagement ring,” Old Bern said, grinning.

  “It doesn’t change anything.” Kaspar again. Why was he arguing for me? “His idea is sound. Take a wife, prove his worth. Bringing the Kane family into our fold will add strength to our group.”

  “More like strength to Darren’s cause.” Maeve shook her head and smoothed out her blouse, avoiding my gaze. “I don’t even disagree with you. It’s only that I find it hard to trust a man who says he’s going to marry an unwilling woman.”

  “She’ll change her mind.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Take some time and consider what I’ve said. I want to change the Oligarchs for the better, and I’m asking for some time to prove it. My first step will be to marry Winter, and after that, I’ll help reshape the world in our image.” I stood up and bows my head respectfully.

  Kaspar gazed back, smiling. The others seemed more hesitant.

  I walked away. I needed to leave the details of my plans as vague as I could—that way I’d have more latitude in the future. I’d deal with the big picture issues later on.

  First, I had to find Winter and propose.

  13

  Winter

  He never said anything about getting married.

  My head swam as I hurried through the back hallways of the hotel. Other guests stared like I’d gone insane. I couldn’t blame them.

  I must’ve looked crazy.

  My ears still buzzed from the attack. I knew going off alone was a bad idea—anything could happen to me without Darren around to keep me safe.

  Only I didn’t care.

  My life was over. My future destroyed.

  This bastard wanted to own me, and it was becoming clear how far he was willing to go to make that happen.

  This was never part of the plan. But then again, he’d never told me what exactly he planned on doing with me.

  Marriage. It made no sense.

  I tried a few doors at random. They were locked—probably guest rooms. I finally found one that opened into short, dim hallway, and hurried down it until I shoved my way into a bustling, crowded kitchen.

  Nobody looked in my direction. The space was hot and the staff worked at a fevered pace, shouting over the sound of sizzling food. Delicious spices wafted down my throat, but it only made me gag. I drifted over into a corner, found a stool beneath a large corkboard covered in a shift schedule, and sank down.

  A man cutting bread frowned at me. I looked down at my hands, trying to disappear. He came over, and I expected him to throw me out—but instead he held out a hunk of fresh, fluffy baguette.

  I accepted it. “Thank you.”

  He smiled. “You stay there long as you need, yeah?” He winked and got back to work.

  I felt a little better as I ate the bread.

  At least there were still some decent, normal humans left in this world.

  For the last few days, all I knew were monsters lurking around every corner. Darren was the worst of them all, haunting me like a ghoul, keeping my soul trapped in a little cage.

  Torn to pieces. Ripped in half.

  Wondering when he was finally going to let me go—and realizing that he never would.

  Darren wanted me. He’d made it clear from the start and hadn’t been shy. I knew what he thought when I walked into the room—I saw it in his eyes.

  And I played with that emotion. I wanted to knock him off his game and hoped he’d make a mistake that I could exploit somehow. I wanted him as distracted as possible so that when Roman finally came to pull me out, Darren would be at his weakest.

  Roman wasn’t coming. Not the way I hoped. And Darren’s distraction morphed into something so much worse.

  Possession. Control.

  He thought he could dominate me. Make me his wife.

  And I didn’t know what I could do about it.

  I finished the bread. Crumbs covered my lap.

  The worst part of all this was—some disgusting, broken part of me wanted to find out what it would be like to give myself to that man.

  To quit fighting. To stop struggling.

  To let him have his way.

  There was a pleasure in tasting him. That kiss, right before the bomb went off, was so exquisite that it sent shivers down my skin. Goosebumps prickled my flesh.

  I would’ve gone further. I wanted him to have more.

  And yet now I saw that it was only just a prelude.

  He was tasting the wares.

  I shivered and hated the way it made my heart leap into my throat.

  I escaped my father to get away from men like Darren. It was arrogant, selfish, image-obsessed assholes like him that finally pushed me over the edge and forced me to run away from everything I ever knew and loved.

  Running from home was never part of the plan. I didn’t want to give up my life and all my friends.

  But my mother’s words drifted back again and again: your past always claws you back, baby.

  “Are you okay?”

  I looked up and expected one of the smiling front desk girls. I figured she’d been sent to drag me back to my captor.

  Instead, it was the beautiful, ageless Oligarch woman, Maeve.

  Her lips were curled down in a frown. Her head was tilted to the side. Several line cooks stared at her openly.

  She was beautiful, but it wasn’t because of her physical features. An aura hung around her, an aura of power and command and control. She looked as though she could destroy this room with a thought if she wanted to and knew it.

  “I’m fine,” I managed to say. I hadn’t expected her to come find me.

  “Darren’s worried. He thinks you’ve escaped.” She looked down at my leg. “But you haven’t, have you?”

  I followed her gaze. The GPS tracker around my ankle was visible. My jeans must’ve been pulled up during the fight earlier and I hadn’t noticed. “I forgot about that thing.”

  “Easy to forget such a small thing.” She glanced to the side toward the man that’d been nice to me and snapped her fingers. He came over, wiping seat from his brow. “Clear the room, please, Chef.”

  “Yes, miss.” He turned and began barking orders in Spanish.

  Instantly, everyone reacted. They put down spoons, pots, pans. Left food half-chopped. They turned off burners and hurried out while the chef kept egging them on until the entire industrial kitchen was empty except for me and Maeve.

  She seemed as though she filled every inch and every corner. Her presence was magnetic and intense. She dragged a chair over and sat down across from me, her back straight, hands folded neatly in her lap.

  “I take it you don’t want to marry Darren.”

  “No, I don’t. That wasn’t supposed to be part of this.”

  “This.” She arched an eyebrow. “Meaning what, exactly?”

  “I’m not sure.” I wiped at my face with both hands. “I’m his captive. I understand that. But I thought we had a deal.”

  “Which was what?”

  “He’d use me against Roman and Cassie. I’d try to escape. In the end, I’d go home.” As soon as I said it out loud, I knew it was absurd.

  How could he ever release me after all this? After what I’d seen of his life?

  Maeve laughed softly. It was a sad sound, like she truly pitied me.

  I hated her for that, just a little bit.

  “He’s right, you know. Together, you two would make a formidable couple.”
/>   “If he thinks he can use me to get to my father’s money, he’s definitely wrong about that.”

  “You’d be surprised. Darren’s extremely persuasive. But it isn’t the money he wants.”

  Power. Connections. My father was deeply embedded in the world of the rich and influential. Darren could use those connections to further his goals.

  Which were, apparently, to change the Oligarchs into something more active. Whatever that meant.

  “Do you believe him?”

  Maeve looked thoughtful. “I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve known him for a while now and he’s always been consistent. Darren’s like the rest of us, morally compromised and rigidly self-centered, but he truly does think our group could do more good in the world. However you want to define good.”

  “Even if that’s true, I don’t see how marrying me will help.”

  “He’s been unruly. He lets his feud with Roman get the better of him too often and that’s been a problem. Until recently, their spats have been contained to proxies, but that changed.”

  I knew all about that. Cassie told me how Darren flooded Roman’s home bunker with water and killed half his guard staff.

  “I don’t see how I’m supposed to help with any of that.”

  “Perhaps he thinks you’ll soften him.” She pursed her lips. “I hate when men think that. As if we’re supposed to be their conscience.” She leaned toward me, eyebrows raising. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Winter. I’m worse than any of the men, but I’m also smarter. I don’t need someone else to tell me when I’m making a mistake.”

  I felt fear slide down my spine. I wanted to get up and get the hell out of here—but there was nowhere to go. If Maeve tracked me down so quickly, Darren wouldn’t be far behind.

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know if you have much of a choice. There are worse things than being married to an Oligarch.”

  “I can’t think of any.”

  She let out a soft laugh. “Perhaps the reason you faked your death is worse.”

  I gripped the edge of the stool. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I know your father’s an asshole. I know people don’t simply walk away from their old life and start over from scratch without a good reason. I told you, I’m smarter than the men.”

  I looked away, down at the floor. It was stained with years of grit and grime and cooking oil. “Darren will be the same. Not exactly like my father, but close enough.”

  “I don’t think so. They’re playing the same game, but they’re in entirely different leagues.” She stood up suddenly, like a snake uncoiling. I stared up at her and my mouth opened slightly. “This is about something much bigger than you. I know it’s hard to see but Darren’s playing a game on multiple levels. Do what you want, but understand that in the end, you’re just one more person on a field littered with bodies.”

  The door to the kitchen opened and Darren stepped inside. Maeve’s lips quirked, as if she’d expected him at that exact moment. She turned and nodded to him, her heels making a clipped sound as she stalked past. Darren watched her go without comment before staring back at me.

  Her words pinged across my skull. You’re just one more person on a field littered with bodies. She was right—this game was way above my head. Darren was making moves on multiple levels, and I was only one tiny piece.

  And yet I mattered. I was important, at least to myself. I couldn’t worry about what Darren wanted or the direction of the Oligarchs or any of that stuff.

  All I could do was worry about myself.

  Right now, I felt trapped in a cage with a lion.

  He came closer, face neutral. I couldn’t read his expression.

  I didn’t want to.

  “You ran away.”

  “I needed space.”

  He pulled back Maeve’s chair but didn’t sit. “What about that conversation made you upset?”

  Anger flared, bright and hot. “You seriously think I’m going to marry you?”

  He smiled and sat down.

  I mentally slapped myself. He wanted to rile me up. That was his whole game—get me angry and see what I did. It was the same thing I tried to do with him, and yet he was so much better at it than I was.

  We were on two different levels.

  And yet Maeve hadn’t told me to stay away from him. She hadn’t said I should try to escape.

  She seemed to think marrying him was the best course of action.

  It made a twisted sense. If I married him, I’d have access to power unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I could use it to crush my father if I wanted—or I could use it to make the world see what a fraud and a bastard he really was.

  There were no limits to what I could achieve.

  All I had to do was marry a man I despised.

  This monster with good intentions.

  But what did they say about the road to Hell?

  “I think you’re going to consider it because you’re a smart girl. You understand the position you’re in.”

  “Kidnapped by a monster.”

  “Exactly.” He showed his teeth again, perfect and straight. I thought of his hands on my skin as he kissed me in the back of that car. Then the way he pulled me to safety and made sure I was okay. The concern in his eyes. The anger.

  “You’d think that’d be reason enough for you to keep away. Who’s to say I won’t try to stab you in your sleep?”

  “I’ll keep you chained up if that becomes a possibility, but I don’t think you’re that kind of girl.”

  “You don’t know me. I’ll cut you to pieces in your sleep.”

  “Maybe you will.” He slowly sat down and leaned toward me. “Or maybe you’ll find you like being my wife. You’ve missed the good life, haven’t you?”

  “Go to hell. You’re not going to convince me to marry you just because you live in a fancy house.”

  “I didn’t think I could, but what about all the other perks? The parties, the friendships, the connections. You like my family. You enjoy my sisters, even if Erin’s a little strange. Don’t you miss having that in your life?”

  I closed my eyes, because he was right. I did miss having a family more than anything in the world. My father was dead as far as I was concerned and my mother lived in Vegas, and I was all alone in the world. I thought Cassie was family, and Roman could be too, but I was wrong about that. Cassie loved me—I truly believed she did—but Roman was like Darren.

  Twisted and broken and ruthless.

  “That’s not enough.”

  “There can be more.” He leaned closer. Filled my vision entirely. “That moment in the car. That kiss.”

  “You should forget that happened.”

  “I can’t.” His hands darted forward, grabbed my knees. I sucked in a breath and nearly toppled backwards off my stool. He pulled me toward him and I stumbled, taking on off-balance step before falling into his lap.

  He held me tight as I tried to push away. I clawed at him, struggled. He kept me pinned there, feeling the warmth of his body. I finally stopped, breathing hard, and glared into his eyes.

  “Let me go.”

  “You haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss, have you? I know I can’t get it out of my head. The way you moaned and writhed. Your taste and lips. You might hate me, but you want to let me explore every inch of your pretty little body despite all that. I want to hear you admit it.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “I’d gladly burn for eternity if it meant getting to spend a lifetime teasing you.”

  “Asshole.” I shoved off his chest and he let me go. I stumbled away and put a few feet between us. I kept breathing hard, gasping for air, trying to clear my wild mind, but I couldn’t seem to get myself straight.

  He had me, trapped and snared.

  “I’m not marrying you.”

  He stood, came forward. I backed up until I bumped into the wall. The corkboard cla
ttered and a page fell off.

  I stared into his eyes as he placed his hands on either side of my shoulders and leaned close.

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  “You can’t force me. That won’t work.”

  “There are ways.” He tilted his head, brought his lips less than an inch from my own. I wanted to close that gap and kiss him so badly it hurt, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  “But it won’t be worth your time. Why bother with an unruly wife?”

  “I’ll break you, love. Slowly, but surely.”

  “What’s the point of that? Why take an unwilling wife?”

  “Because you taste so sweet.”

  He kissed me then, hard and rough, and I groaned against my will as I kissed him back. His words were honey, poison, pleasure and pain, but when he bit my lip, it felt like heaven, or like hell, I didn’t know which, and didn’t care.

  One lifetime exploring him. One lifetime suffering.

  Writhing with pleasure.

  He broke the kiss off abruptly. The absence of his lips was like being dunked in water.

  The kitchen door opened. Anthony came in. “They made a decision.”

  Darren didn’t take his eyes off mine. “Are they waiting?”

  “You should go back in.”

  “Thank you. We’re coming.”

  Anthony glanced at me then disappeared.

  “We should go.” My voice was a whisper. I was so weak, so pathetic. I gave him what he wanted every time.

  “Tell me you’ll marry me.”

  “That’s one fucked-up proposal.”

  His hands moved down to my hips and gripped me hard. “Say it. Say you’ll marry me.”

  “I’m not going to do it. You can force me, but I’ll never come willingly.”

  For some reason, that seemed to please him. He released me and stepped away.

  I leaned my head back and stared down my nose.

  “We should get back.” He held out a hand.