Dazzled by the Devil

Trigger Warning: Dazzled by the Devil is a dark bully mafia romance. It deals with elements of violence and organized crime. In dark mafia romance fashion, this story has a gruesome torture scene, but not between the female and male main characters. There are mentions of past child abuse, suicide ideation, and suicide. The sexual themes in this story involve bondage, discipline, sadochism, masochism (BDSM), dubious consent or dub-con, and some Dominance and Submission elements.

“No! Let me go! I fucking hate you all! You can’t make me get married,” I shriek at the top of my lungs, holding on to the bridal suite’s door frame for dear life. If I had to, I’d rip the damn door off the hinges before I’d marry that Greek bastard. After hours of styling and primping me on my wedding day to look like a gorgeous prize for my forced betrothal, my brothers’ wives and girlfriends couldn’t get me to leave the bridal suite, so the ladies called in reinforcements. The twins were now using physical force to drag me to the sacrificial altar disguised as a ruse of a platinum million-dollar wedding. Everyone in the upper echelon of Philadelphia would be in attendance, and I needed to be down there ten minutes ago for the ceremony to start on time.

“Be careful not to ruin her hair, makeup, and definitely don’t break any of her nails on the ring finger’s hand. The photos have to be flawless for the gossip blogs and social media outlets,” Bridie demanded, rubbing her big pregnant belly. My eldest brother’s wife is the perfect mafia queen, always sickeningly willing to do his beckoning and anything for her man. I scratched at Kian’s eyes after he ripped my grip off the doorframe. He laughed, giving me a sly smirk.

“You think she wasn’t marrying one of the richest, sexiest eligible bachelors in the country.” Bevin blustered, rolling her eyes in my direction.

“Maybe if you hadn’t been caught on your knees with Kian’s dick down your throat and forced to marry him, you could marry this Greek man in my place, bitch,” I bite out. It was public knowledge my third oldest brother and his wife didn’t like each other but had been fucking like rabbits since their teens. But, like any other mafia princess, she was forced to marry him because she gave him her “virtue”. It had been over three years, and people still gossiped about how my “poor” brother had to marry the Irish mafia’s whore. As if a woman seeking pleasure in a man’s arms out of wedlock is the biggest sin known to man, while these made men run around committing sins that made Dante’s journey through the rings of hell look like a cakewalk.

“Ladies, Ladies, quiet down. We’re getting close to the ballroom where the wedding is being held. Alistair will have my fucking balls if a cat fight broke out in earshot of reporters,” Blaine loudly whispered, beckoning for Kian to get in the lineup to escort his wife into the wedding ceremony. I feel my stomach sink as the twins gently sit me on my feet in front of the Irish Mafia boss, Alistair Walsh, my eldest brother. This was really fucking happening, and I had no way of weaseling out of this arranged marriage. Alistair looked absolutely handsome in his tux, waiting to walk me, his only sister, down the aisle to his sworn enemy. He looked at me like he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life, as if he was setting his gaze upon the Mona Lisa for the first time. Even though Alistair had practically raised me, the makeup, the hair, and the fucking twenty-thousand-dollar wedding dress took my older brother’s breath away. For a moment, he stood there speechless because of my captivating beauty. Over the years, he had killed, maimed, and tongue-lashed many men for admiring my inherited good looks. I should have disfigured myself. Then maybe I wouldn’t be in my own version of hell on earth.

“They call her the Gorgeous Rose for a reason,” Lochlan vehemently commented, hating that nickname as much as me, before patting my brother on the back, breaking Alistair from his trance. Lochlan marches into the ceremony with a bridesmaid; he’d probably fuck seven ways to Sunday tonight.

“Alannah. You’re beautiful. Even more beautiful than mother,” Alistair compliments, giving me an encouraging smile. The smile he always gave me as a child meant as endearment and comfort in the hell we grew up in as the offspring of one of the most feared Mafia bosses, not only in the Irish Mafia but most organized crime groups. I hug myself tightly, feeling a sharp pain from the veil covering my face ripping at my hair because it’s pinned so tightly to my scalp. I’m in a gorgeous stylish wedding dress picked out by Bridie. It’s sexy, hugging my curvaceous petite frame, showing off a generous amount of cleavage while being classy with its lace bodice and long sleeves. The wedding dress has a sheer lace overlay over a nude bodysuit, making it appear as if I’m naked beneath without being trashy. No matter how much they tried to make this day feel like the Pinterest board wedding of my dreams, it was complete and utter bullshit.

I held my head high, detesting, “Well, mommy was the lucky one. She had enough sense to choose death over this life and successfully ate the pavement, providing her freedom from this shit world. But you wouldn’t understand. It’s a man’s world, and mafia men continually make women understand the truth of that statement. You, being the shitty lying brother that you most certainly are, have made me understand it. Congratulations fucker!” My brother’s jade green eyes narrow into slits.

“You’re being a baby about this whole situation. I’ve listened to this temper tantrum for about a year now, and I’m fucking sick of it. Maybe our father was right, and I saved the wrong worthless bitch that day. He beat me within an inch of my life, and I couldn’t walk for weeks because of it. But you’re acting like some ungrateful, spoiled brat. We don’t get to choose being born into the mafia, but me, Blaine, Kian, Devlin, and Lochlan have all stepped up to do our role for our people and our family. Now, it’s your turn. You have the easiest fucking role of all. You think you know the inhumane things we’ve done or seen, but, sweetheart, let me tell you, you don’t know the fucking half of it. So, plaster on a fucking smile, march down the fucking aisle, and lay on your fucking back and pop out a few damn babies,” Alistair snarls at me, placing my hand in the crook of his arm, and facing us towards the closed doors of the ballroom.

Alistair was right. All he and my brothers did was protect me my entire life and spoil me to no end. The least I could do was sacrifice my hopes and dreams for them to have this desperately needed alliance with the Greek mob. But, as the minutes ticked away, the strained silence between Alistair and me felt louder, and my stomach churned with nerves. I just couldn’t let him have the last word. I turned to him, lashing out, “It’s easy for you to say. I have it easy. You’re not a young woman, barely legal, being married off to some stranger in a rival family fifteen years her senior. I’m being married off to an old fuck. I told you once, and I will tell you a million times. You’re no better than our father. You’re marrying me against my will so that you can use my pussy as a business pawn.” I hear a loud gasp wanting to die on the inside, realizing the ballroom doors had been opened as I shouted the last snarky, disrespectful remark to my brother. I had just insulted the Philly Irish Mafia boss in front of hundreds of people, including his rival.

Alistair had never laid a finger on me in my entire nineteen years of life. Still, I knew my blatant disrespect in a public forum couldn’t fly under the radar because he couldn’t look weak in front of his men, especially not in front of his enemy. My brother violently grabbed my upper arms, swinging me around to face him. The fire burned bright in his jade green eyes, his face barely an inch from mine as he bent down to my height. I heard the wedding march playing softly in the background as I fearfully shivered in my brother’s angry hold.

“I should’ve been more firm with you and not saved you from father’s beatings as a child. I’ve never been violent to a woman in my life, but today you’ve tested my fucking patience. You better walk down that aisle with grace and beauty because this marriage to Athan is the only thing saving me from putting a bullet in your head. You know better than to disrespect the head of the Irish Mafia in public, in front of his men, and especially in front of his enemy. I’ve given you a ton of liberties, and you’ve proved father right at this moment. You weren’t worth the beatings Alannah,” Alistair whispers angrily in my face, spittle flying onto my veil.  Letting go of me, Alistair places my hand in the crook of his arm as I fight back the tears as we walk down the aisle to my future husband. I want to cry an ocean's worth of tears because, self-consciously, I’ve always felt like a nuisance and a burden to the made men of my family, but none of my brothers had ever confirmed it until this moment. I loved Alistair and my other brothers wholeheartedly, so his anger and disappointment in me broke my soul.

I feel lightheaded, my stomach churning and shifting like a roller coaster, when Alistair disengages my slender fingers from my tight hold on his arm. In one of the oldest traditions known to man, Alistair leans over to whisper words of encouragement in my ears before giving away me, the bride, to this Greek bastard.

“I love you, Alannah, and will always protect you no matter how much of a fucking little shit you are. But, remember to behave yourself. I’m doing you a favor, Gorgeous Rose. So, count your blessings. I could’ve married you off to a truly old fuck with old Italian mafia traditions that treated you like a broodmare and sex slave. I had many offers,” Alistair whispers in my ear, causing me to wince. As a last ditch effort, I grab onto his hand for dear life and refuse to let it go. For as long as I could remember, Alistair had been my saver, safe place, and biggest fan. However, at this moment, he felt like my greatest enemy instead of the man standing a breath away at the altar. I ignore the harsh expression on Alistair’s stony face as he tries to pull away from me inconspicuously, but I won’t budge. So, he forcefully rips his hand out of my grasp, pushing me roughly into my spot at the altar as the bride in the wedding ceremony.  The high heel of my shoe catches on the hem of my long wedding dress, causing me to stumble into my future husband. Strong arms catch me by the shoulders causing butterflies to flutter nervously in my stomach.

For a split second before casting my gaze back to the ground, I think I see fury flash across the emotionless groom’s face directed at my brother for manhandling me. But I probably imagined it. I was known for having a creative imagination. The cold, beautiful man standing in front of me was known for his unshakable wicked demeanor. The groom lifted my veil with shocking gentleness off my face, peering down into my exposed face. His silvery gray eyes darken with lust into a smokey gray, causing my nipples to harden against my bodice and my skin to feel oddly flushed with heat. Athan’s mouth slightly parts in stunned disbelief as he drinks in my beauty. But, he immediately composes himself, nodding to the priest to begin the ceremony.

The vows and the officiation of the wedding go by in a quick surreal blur for me. Until the priest happily states six bitter words, “You may now kiss the bride.” I freeze in fear. My heart threatens to thud out of my chest as my skin gets clammy. I had only ever kissed one boy in my life, my brother Devlin’s best friend and Alistair’s soldier. Memories of him getting the shit beat out of him for it causes me to shake like a leaf. Athan rolls his eyes, grasping my shoulders and pulling me into him as his head descends. My mind starts to swim with panic. I become intoxicated by his delicious scent of sandalwood and oak. Then, I remember I don’t want to kiss this man, no matter how attractive, nor be his wife. So, when he takes my mouth into a deep kiss, I bite the fuck out of his lip, drawing blood and tasting the metallic tones of it in my own mouth as he continues our kiss. My satisfaction is short-lived when he pulls back, his eyes narrowing at me, and his tongue darts out to lick away the evidence of my assault. I hold my breath, fearing that this cold man might strangle me to death due to my blatant disrespect, but his next moves shock me.

He gives a small derisive smirk, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket to dab at his lip, then slaps me hard on the ass tugging me into his solid muscular body. He gives a little laugh, announcing, “It seems my new wife is clearly going to enjoy it rough in the bedroom. I can’t wait because that’s exactly how I like it.” A loud thunder of claps, hoops, hollers and barking of men occurs as he marches me back up the aisle as his new wife. I see Alistair and my other brothers’ faces which all have a deadly glare because it seems they didn’t like Athan, the Godfather of the Night’s, little comment about their sweet little sister in bed with their enemy. Well, they only had themselves to blame, and it was too late for regrets because they were now related to the Greek mafia.

I was starting to wonder if my new husband would ever speak to me. Hell, after looking at me at the altar, he hadn’t given me so much as a glance since we’d entered the lavish wedding reception. I had begrudgingly gone through the motions of the first dance with him, the formalities of the dances with others, and the congratulations we received before making our way to the bridal party’s table. At least his brother and sister seemed normal and were pleasant enough. So, that was reassurance that when we did have a kid, it had a fighting chance not to be a cold sociopath like its father.

Athan sat quietly to my left, nursing a glass of amber liquid and staring off into space. My bitchy sister-in-law, Bevin, wasn’t wrong. Athan was devastatingly attractive. People always praised me for my beauty, but the man sitting by me was most definitely my competition in the looks department. He had a golden sand skin tone with a crystal clear complexion, and his eyes were the most beautiful, unique shade of gray I’d ever seen. They bordered on a piercing silver shade that made me breathless the two times he’d cast them in my direction at the altar. He had the longest thickest curly fringe of lashes that framed those gorgeous eyes. Athan was well-groomed with a short, trimmed beard that I wanted to run my hand over to see if it was as soft as it looked. He had full soft lips, a square jaw, and the most beautiful head of wavy dirty blondish dark hair. God, the sight of his big muscular body had me feeling like I had Bojangles Robison tap dancing in my pussy. But I couldn’t let his good looks fool me. My brothers had chained me through marriage to the devil himself.

“It’s impolite to stare, Sexy Red,” Athan said woodenly, tossing back the remainder of his drink before turning his hardened gaze at me.

I smugly narrow my eyes at him, responding, “Get used to it. I have the misfortune of staring at your ugly mug the rest of my life if I don’t decide to slit my wrist tonight.”

“You’re being childish. You have no reason to want to slit your wrist. Women would line up mafia princesses or not to be called Mrs. Athan Kostas. So, chill the fuck out,” Athan states dismissively as a waiter promptly replaces his drink.

“You practically married a child. I’ve barely turned nineteen. I’m barely out of high school. Why would an old man like you want to marry someone as young as me anyway? If you have women lining up to drop to their knees and let you fuck them any way you want. Why agree to this stupid farce of a marriage,” I question angrily. He snickers, taking a sip of his drink and giving me a harsh glare.

“So, the stereotypes are true. Clearly, redheads are bitchy. Apparently, I’m married to the biggest, most annoying one of all time. I’m as old as your brother, and trust me; many people wouldn’t consider thirty-four geriatric. So, no worries, baby girl, you won’t be pushing me in a wheelchair of a nursing home anytime soon. Plus, the way you’re stacked like a fucking Brickhouse, Sexy Red, you look more than legal to me. But, if I didn’t want to do what was best for my men and people, I wouldn’t have married a bratty ass teenager that is barely considered an adult by law. The only perk is that I am lucky enough for it to be the Gorgeous Rose. But trust me, baby girl, we’re in the same boat. Mine is probably the worst since I have to put up with your annoying ass,” Athan guffaws, tossing back his drink.

The way he mocked my nickname had his sexy raspy voice echoing in my mind of him saying the Gorgeous Rose. A stupid nickname I’d had since I was thirteen, or at least that was the first time I heard men say it when they thought I wasn’t in earshot. The Irish Mafia referred to me as the Gorgeous Rose because of my mesmerizing beauty. Apparently, it had spread like wildfire through other organized crime groups when I was sixteen after the gossip blogs had released a picture of me from my birthday celebration. My brother, Devlin, told me I had gotten that nickname because I had a delicate and innocent look about me that men found sexy. Also, I carried myself with such elegance and poise; like a beauty queen, I stopped men in their tracks. None of my brothers liked the male attention my physical appearance attracted. Not to mention I had D-cup breasts since I was fifteen and an ass out of Maxim magazine. Gorgeous Rose, I believe, caught on the most because of my long copper red hair and aquamarine eyes against my fair skin. The way people acted about my appearance made my skin crawl and my stomach feel queasy. I mean, I could be known by something worse than one of the most beautiful women in all of Philly. I could be known as a champion dick hoover, like Bevin.

“So, you jumped at the opportunity to marry a stranger based on a rumor of my beauty and a stupid nickname. God, I always knew men were the denser of the two genders. Always thinking with their dicks,” I admonish, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Oh, Sexy Red, don’t flatter yourself. While your beauty far precedes the nickname and pictures don’t do you justice, I just needed collateral, baby girl. You mean nothing to me. You’re a possession to me like my cigars, sneakers, my whorehouses,” Athan says cruelly, rubbing his thumb across my bottom lip, causing the nub between my thighs to throb.

“Collateral,” I question, confused. I knew the inner workings of the mafia to an extent. Deep down inside, I knew my brother would eventually choose a man for me to marry, but I didn’t understand how I’d be considered collateral in a deal they signed in blood.

“Yup, baby girl. I needed collateral when the Irish mob approached me for an alliance so you dirty Irish mother fuckers wouldn’t double-cross me. I told your brother he must give me something of the most value to him-“ I snort, cutting Athan off mid-sentence. I couldn’t help myself as I covered my mouth to try to muffle my hysterical laughter. I was a woman born into the mafia. Women in the mafia were treated like dirt, punching bags, and doormats. Did Alistair love me? Undeniably. Did Alistair consider me invaluable to him? Fuck no.

“You have to be fucking kidding me. Women are not of value to made men,” I laugh.

Ignoring me, Athan continues, “One looks like I’ll have to teach you manners. Don’t fucking interrupt me while I’m speaking, little girl. Two, stop all your cussing. That shit may fly with your brothers but not with me. Three, Sexy Red, you clearly don’t know much about men, let alone the mafia. Our kids are the blood tie and the heart of this agreement that will keep our two families from going to war. So, the quicker I can knock you up, the less time we have to spend in each other’s presence, Sexy Red.”

For some reason, Athan’s annoyance at me and nonchalance about the situation grinded my gears. The way he talked to me like an insolent child or as if I was a moron really had me wanting to get under his skin like he gets under mine. I hated the archaic views of mafia men. I’m nothing. A possession. A burden. My brother’s words came back to my mind telling me my value to this family was lying on my back and popping out babies. I was so much fucking more than that bullshit. Women, in general, were more than their ovaries and what was between their legs, and I was sick of being treated like a fucking commodity.

I snatched Athan’s tumbler of alcohol from his hand. I toss it back, coughing at the burn in my chest from it. His eyes narrowed at first before he patted my back, laughing hysterically. I then picked up my champagne and tossed it back in one gulp.

“Easy. Slow the fuck down, Alannah. I’m not carrying you out of the ceremony fucking drunk,” Athan reprimanded me as I crossed my arms over my chest, giving him my best pouty face. Then the realization dawned on me. I had been traded like a fucking Mafia NFT. I went from being my brother’s collateral to my husband’s leverage. The thought pissed me off that I was just being passed from one man to the next to rule over me. I’d never have any freedom. I would be doing everything in my power to make my new husband’s life a living hell. It seemed he needed a reminder I wasn’t just a belonging he could play with and then toss to the side based on his mood. I was my own woman.

I quickly became bored of watching my husband drink himself to death from the misery of being married to his new young bride. I spot sexy Nolan Tobin by the bar flirting with some pretty Greek woman with Devlin and Lochlan. Nolan Tobin could pass for the guy who plays Captain America because he’s just so damn sexy. If I knew my brothers were protecting my virginity because it was a bargaining token, I would have done more than give Nolan my first kiss. I would have sold my soul to Athan Kostas, the Godfather of the Night myself, to be taken to pound town by the hottest enforcer of the Irish Mafia.

“May I please have this dance,” I ask Nolan, tapping him on his shoulder. Nolan turns to face me, the Greek woman forgotten as his baby blue eyes fill with desire as he meets my gaze. He lazily runs his eyes appreciatively over my body before licking his lips. I watch in my peripheral as Devlin and Lochlan, the twins, eyes narrow on their best friend.

“Absolutely. How could anyone deny the Gorgeous Rose a dance,” Nolan flirts, whisking me into the middle of the dance floor. I push our bodies flush against one another at an indecent distance that would rile up gossip and, even better, my new husband. Nolan tries to create a respectful amount of space between us without publicly humiliating me with rejection. Nolan’s body goes frigid as he holds me, knowing the danger of the game I’m playing and that I’m flirting with disaster. If his thumb were to slip a fraction down my waist, I’m pretty sure this high society event would become a red wedding. The thought of a bloody wedding makes me smile to myself.

“Damn, Gorgeous Rose. Ask me a few years ago, and I would’ve let your brothers cut off my dick and feed it to me if it meant I got to bury myself in this sexy body of yours. But I heard some crazy shit about your new husband. I don’t know if I want him to cover me in honey and let bugs eat away at my flesh for touching his beautiful bride,” Nolan states, pulling away from me to peer down into my face. I school my expression to one of innocence as I throw back my head in fake laughter. Nolan gives me a sly smirk, spinning me around and then holding me close to him with my back flush against his front and our arms wrapped around my middle section. Ask me a few years ago, and I would’ve told you my life would’ve been made because Nolan Tobin held me affectionately. But I didn’t feel the same way anymore. My body didn’t respond to his like I thought it did when he kissed me. Well, nothing and no one ever made my body react with a throbbing between my thighs and goosebumps breaking out over my skin like when Athan touched me. I shake that thought out of my head as I smile over at the bridal party table; pity I don’t see Athan anywhere in sight.

Nolan leans down, whispering in my ear, “If I’m dancing with death, Gorgeous Rose, at least make it worth my while.” I let out a nervous, choked laugh at Nolan’s forwardness, but before I could respond, I was interrupted by my husband.

“I’ll cut in now,” Athan says, pulling me so quickly out of Nolan’s intimate embrace that I stumble into his chest. My head felt dizzy from his delicious sandalwood and oak scent. I’m entangled with Athan’s body; I’m positive that no one can tell where his body ends, and mine begins. He slowly strokes his hand down my spine until he’s rubbing lightly against my ass. He causes me to shiver with sexual delight as his touch sends ribbons of lust coursing through my body, causing the seat of my panties to dampen. I try to create distance between us, but he pulls me closer, pawing at my ass. I feel his growing erection against my stomach, causing me to freeze in place.

I crane my neck to look into Athan’s steely gray eyes because he’s over a foot taller than my fun-size frame. I hold my breath, closing my eyes, hoping for another kiss from his gorgeous mouth. Instead, I feel his hot angry raspy voice against my ear. Athan grounds out, “Your tipsy ass is embarrassing me, yourself, and your brother. Stop flirting with fucking dirty Irish mafia soldiers. From the clips of Bevin sucking dick like a throat GOAT, Irish Mafia princesses may be slutty, but queens of the Greek mafia hold themselves with class. You see, my baby sister, Lotus, is sitting quietly by my brother’s side, not on the dance floor, acting like a trashy whore. This is your first warning. Behave yourself, or I’ll put you over my knee and spank the defiance out of you until you can’t sit for days.” My pussy gushes wet like an erupting geyser from his words. The thought of Athan spanking me causes a shocking response from my body that I can’t explain as my clitoris throbs desperately. My husband grins broadly, noticing my body’s reaction written across my face. The red flush of my heated flesh doesn’t help hide the sexual arousal he stirs in my body.

“Nolan is harmless. My brothers’ intercepted my every attempt to get him to fuck my brains out. But, I’d do anything for you to let him take me for a ride. I’ve always had the biggest crush on him. I still remember my first kiss with him. Too bad my brothers’ kept me intact for you. Nowadays, only you stupid traditional made men care about a social construct like a woman’s virginity. It’s all bull shit. If I had my way, I’d probably have gang banged a few of my brothers’ men,” I tease him watching the anger flash behind his eyes as he stops going through the motion of dancing with me.

“Clearly, you’ve watched too many pornos, baby girl. I’ll be more than satisfactory for you in the bedroom, and if you don’t value your virginity, then I’ll just throw you headfirst in how I like to fuck. You’re a little girl that wants to play grown man games. I’ll show you that I always win. Don’t fucking test me, Sexy Red,” Athan warns, taking a cigarette out of his pocket and walking towards the door, leaving me standing in the middle of the dance floor partnerless.

I feel my blood begin to boil with rage because of Athan’s insane possessiveness after telling me I’m nothing but useless property to him. I want to yell. I want to scream. I want to set this place on fucking fire. I laugh to myself because fuck Athan. He doesn’t get to boss me around. Fuck the marriage license, our dishonest vows, and this farce of a wedding. I don’t give a shit if my brother signed me over in blood to the Godfather of the Night. Athan Kostas doesn’t fucking own me.

I stomp over to Nolan, tapping on his shoulder. He turns around with a smug smile on his face as I brazenly tease, “I’ll make your dance with death worth it.” I yank him by the neck, crashing our lips together hard. I kiss him with all of my rage, disappointment, and betrayal. Nolan stands frozen to the spot. I feel the vibration of his lips as he lets out a throaty laugh before sinking into our kiss. Nolan kisses me back like I mean the world to him. Our kiss is like we’re the last people on the earth in desperate need of procreation because the survival of mankind depends on us.

However, our kiss is short-lived because when I open my eyes, Draco Kostas, Athan’s little brother, is on top of Nolan, punching him in the face so hard I hear bones crushing. I try to run towards him to stop the fight, but I’m held in place by a gilded cage of steel arms. I take my chances looking behind me, and I’m greeted by Alistair’s wrath in those jade green eyes.

My stomach drops as I watch Athan’s huge frame bulldoze through the crowd, pushing his brother off Nolan and hauling Nolan up by his suit lapel. I gasp, my eyes filling with tears as Athan and a few of his men drag him out of the wedding reception, and my brothers follow. Bridie runs over to me on the dance floor. Once Alistair lets go of me. But I push away from her because I have to stop this before total chaos ensues. I. am. a. fucking. Idiot. I rush out of the ballroom with my other sister-in-laws, that aren’t carrying the Irish Mafia’s spawn, hot on my heels.

For the first time tonight, I witness a smirk on Athan’s face that sends icicles down my spine. Nolan’s face is a bloody fucking mess as I catch them in front of the stairwell. I scream at the top of my lungs, alerting the men of my presence and getting their attention over their loud arguments and hostile waving of guns.

“Hey, Sex Red. Do you want to see your crush take his last breath? I tried to warn you, but you sealed a man’s death certificate with a kiss. I hope it was worth it because now you have blood on your hands, Gorgeous Rose,” Athan mocks, slamming the butt of his pistol into Nolan’s head. I break free from Bevin and Keelin’s hold, barreling through the protected wall my brothers have created with their bodies to protect their wives and me from the standoff between them and the Greek mob.  I fall to Athan’s feet, sitting on my haunches before him.

“Please. Don’t kill him. It meant nothing. You’re right. I’m a little girl playing grown man games. I just wanted to push your buttons. Nolan’s my friend. Don’t kill him. I love him like a brother. Please, it was all a stupid game,” I plead with Athan on my knees as hot, fat tears roll down my face.

“Get off your fucking knees, Alannah,” I hear Alistair’s voice boom behind me. Alistair is right. Even as a woman, even if the Godfather of the Night now owned me. As an Irish Mafia princess of the boss’s family, I kneel to no one, especially in public. Old habits dying hard, I rise to my feet, remembering who the fuck I am, staring my husband in the eyes. Athan looks at Draco, and they burst into a fit of laughter. After a short breath, their men also join in on the laughter. Athan pushes Nolan to the floor at one of his enforcer’s feet, who keeps him down with an expensive designer loafer planted on his windpipe.

“See, this is the fucking problem with you dirty Irish. You have too much fucking pride and don’t teach your women how to fucking behave. But Alannah is now my possession. She’s no longer a filthy Walsh but a Kostas,” Athan says, twirling his gun and pointing it between my eyebrows, but his challenging gaze never leaves Alistair’s face. Athan continues his rant, “If I want my wife on her fucking knees because she’s beneath me. Then, she’ll get on her fucking knees and do whatever the fuck I demand. She doesn’t belong to you, Alistair, not anymore. So, Alannah Kostas, get on your fucking knees.” I hear him click off the gun's safety, applying pressure with the barrel to my forehead as I lower to my knees.

“Now, open wide like Kian’s wife, I’m sure, has taught you,” Athan laughs as I do what he says with my eyes glued shut. I fight every defiant bone in my body with my need to save Nolan, winning over my need to be prideful. I feel the cold metal slide into my mouth, causing me to shiver in fear. Athan roars, “Now suck it like the cock you Irish women love so much.” I gently suck on the gun unenthusiastically, tuning out the laughter of my husband’s men and the cursing and angry words of my brothers as I’m publicly humiliated. The weapon is yanked from between my lips, causing me to open my eyes as I’m quickly ripped off the ground and into Athan’s bulky frame.

“Let Nolan go. I’ll do anything,” I beg Athan, refusing to give him eye contact.

He yanks my face up painfully by the chin, forcing me to look him dead in the eyes. He accesses my face as if he’s taking his time reading my mind and peering into the darkest corners of my soul. His eyes are cold. Dead. Soulless. I wish I could wear a nonchalant mask as well as my husband. Unfortunately, I know he sees the desperation as clear as day dancing across my face. My eyes desperately pleading with him to let me take Nolan’s place. I silently show him with my eyes I’ll take any punishment if he allows my childhood friend live to take another breath.

“Anything, huh,” Athan questions with a sardonic smirk on his beautiful face. How could someone so evil be so fucking handsome? Why the fuck was I so enamored by his physical appearance when a man’s blood could potentially be on my hands because of a childish game. I nod my head slowly, allowing tears to flow down my cheeks freely. Athan places his forehead on my temple as he makes whatever internal decision he’s toying with in his shrewd, menacing mind. He opens his eyes, smiling coldly at my brothers, and announcing, “Well, I love a good party, gentleman. But, I’ll have to cut this party short.” He reverently licks the tears off my cheeks, giving Alistair a wink.

Athan turns to his men, bellowing, “Are you ready to break in our new mafia queen?” They all cheer and chant as I watch Alistair and my brothers’ faces fill with rage. I’m dragged into the stairwell by Athan, but I hear gunshots and furniture being thrown in a fit of rage by my brothers due to their inability to rectify this situation in a way that wouldn’t end with me traumatized for life.

I loudly sob because I talked a big game to my husband, but I didn’t want random men taking turns using my body until I was left a shell of a person. I wanted my first time to be at least pleasurable. I had dug my grave, and now I’d have to lay in it. Who knows how Athan planned to punish me? I get into the back of one of his SUVs, his gun still held against my head until the doors lock. Jeez. What the fuck had I done?

Athan waves his gun at me as I sit as still as a statue, afraid to exit his SUV. We’re parked outside one of his abandoned warehouses. Similar to that of the Irish Mafia, I’m sure he uses it for torture. God knows how many dead bodies are buried within a fifty to a hundred-mile radius of this isolated compound. I want to obey his orders. I can’t hear what he’s saying over the pounding of blood whooshing through my ears. I’m terrified, so my body has gone into shock, paralyzing me with fear. I feel the cold Philadelphia wind hit me as I’m lifted out of the backseat into unfamiliar strong arms. I look into the cold golden eyes of Draco Kostas, who carries me into the abandoned warehouse, bridal style.

He lowers me to my feet, thankfully holding me by my waist because I don’t think I can hold myself up with all the nerves coursing through my body. The warehouse is muggy and dimly lit, and the stench of death mixed with feces and stale piss hit my nose, making me feel the alcohol churn in my stomach. I feel lightheaded as I look across the room at Nolan, chained in nothing but his boxers to a metal chair in the middle of the room.

“No, I told you I’d do anything, don’t kill him. Please, Athan,” I cry out. Draco’s hold tightens around my waist, keeping me from running toward my husband and friend. Thinking back to us standing in the hallway, Athan didn’t promise me he wouldn’t kill him. Would my punishment be watching Nolan die? My heart drops into my stomach while the room begins to spin.

“Relax, Sexy Red. I may kill him. I may not. But I’m definitely going to have some fun with him,” Athan responds gleefully. For the first time that night, my husband shows a pleasant emotion of sheer joy. Athan Kostas wasn’t called the Lethal Lunatic for nothing. It was whispered through every crime organization and mob. I’d seen grown men shit bricks when they heard his nickname, Lethal Lunatic. Blaine told me a year ago when I questioned them about the nickname after they told me I’d be married to him. Athan brutally and inhumanely tortures his victims to death with a smile on his face. People say that’s the only time his cold hard mask ever shows emotion.

I witnessed his diabolical persona in action tonight as he ripped out each of Nolan’s fingernails with plyers, put a drill through his dominant hand, and beat him with a chain until he pissed and shit himself. It was such a terrible, heinous sight that I vomited on my brother-in-law’s shoes not once but maybe twice. I lost count after the second time he swore the Lord’s name in vain.

Athan wiped his hands on a rag before coming over to me and throwing me on my knees a few feet away from Nolan’s mangled body. I cried, mouthing the words sorry to him as I looked into his once beautiful face and was greeted by one baby blue eye that hadn’t quite swollen shut like the other one yet.

“Now for the grand finale, gentleman,” Athan’s deep raspy voice boomed, demanding the attention of about ten of his highest-ranking men and his brother in the room. I glanced over at Draco because he was slightly easier to read. He wouldn’t meet my gaze, but he held his body rigid and uneasy. I became unnerved, knowing what was coming to me wouldn’t be pleasant. I heard the unzipping of my husband’s slacks, bracing myself for him to piss on me to mark his territory like the disgusting caveman he was, but that would have been kinder than what he had in store for me.

I kneeled on my knees face to face with Athan’s monstrosity of a porn star dick jutting from his body. He rubbed his salty precum against my lips. I had to keep from moaning as I licked it away, causing his eyes to darken with lust. He held me by the head, shouting, “You see, you’ll be extremely busy and exhausted because I get super turned on after a good torture session. Since you like to act like a filthy Irish whore in public, you can perform your first task as my wife in a public forum. Suck my dick and make it good since you’ll do anything to save your friend’s life.” His men clapped, hooped, and hollered, making my body frigid. My asshole, possessive husband was staking his claim of me in front of Nolan and his men in the most humiliating way possible for me. So, why did the thought of sucking his dick with an audience cause my thighs to coat with arousal making me want to slide my fingers through my wet, slick folds for sexual release?

I eyed his big thick dick, unsure what to do with it because I had never seen a dick in person, let alone touched one, nor put it in my mouth. I shyly ran my hand over the velvety soft steel of his shaft, licking the rest of his precum off his tip. I rubbed and tugged on his balls, causing him to hiss through his teeth while I ran my tongue, exploring his manhood along every part of his dick. I sucked in a deep breath and placed his dick as far into my mouth until it met my fist. After a few minutes of letting me fumble around foolishly, Athan put his hand on the back of my head and began guiding my rhythm. Athan fucked my mouth, choking and gagging me until what was left of my makeup smeared down my face. My nipples tightened too tight erect buds that set my body ablaze every time they rubbed against the bodice of my wedding dress. I shifted my thighs, feeling my empty hot wet center clench as my breathing became ragged from the sexy way in which Athan dominated my mouth, pounding his dick to the back of my throat until my lips were numb and my cheeks were sore. I was confused by the response of my body to his barbaric actions. This wasn’t the sweet lovemaking setting my body should only enjoy when it comes to sexual acts. Maybe, my father was right, and I was defective.

“That’s right, Sexy Red. You’re a filthy whore. But, you’ll only be a filthy whore for me. You’re mine. You belong to me. If you want to get dirty and act like a dirty slut then you’ll only be getting dirty for me. You’re my cum bucket. You’re my slut. So, be a good girl and swallow every drop,” Athan’s filthy words and the slapping of his skin were the only noises you heard in the room as he roared out his release as his slimy cum coated my throat. He held my head to him as the vibrations of my own release from his nasty, degrading words and my submissively serving him with my mouth caused me to orgasm. He muffled them with his dick so no one else could hear me cum. As Athan’s dick slipped from between my lips, he wiped the cum from the corner of my mouth with his thumb. Before he could remove his hand, I placed his thumb in my mouth and sucked it, causing his eyes to darken and his semi-erect dick to lengthen again. He quickly shoved himself back into his tuxedo slacks, hauling me to my feet.

“Send the video to Alistair and the map coordinates where he can find his piece of shit Irish trash. And I mean his piss poor excuse of a soldier and not my new bride,” Athan barked at a flustered Draco, who nodded his head, not meeting my eyes.

“Don’t send that shit to my brothers,” I plead. Reality finally donned on me as I ripped myself from my husband’s tight grip. Athan gave me a menacing smile ignoring my tantrum and dragging me from the warehouse. I stopped halfway to the car to empty the contents of my stomach because I was disgusted with myself for loving every second of my experience in the warehouse with Athan. I’d never been so turned on in my life. The man gave me an orgasm without even touching me. I found sexual release in a moment I should’ve felt degraded and humiliated. What the fuck was wrong with me.

“I don’t have all night, Sexy Red. I still have to fuck the shit out of you to consummate this marriage,” Athan huffs, holding my hair back, causing me to tremble in shock at the kind and gentle gesture after the terrible things he said to me and the way he used me like a two-bit whore in front of his men and Nolan.

Yet, as we got into the car, my body became excited at the thought of Athan Kostas, the Lethal Lunatic, using my body for his pleasure. The craziest thing was happening to me at this moment. My body was at war with my mind. I shouldn’t find a bastard like Athan sexually attractive. I should be disgusted with how he treated me and tortured my friend—not soaking my panties from what happened and the future events that were about to happen. I was clearly certifiable, just like my mother. I shake the sexual thoughts and fantasies out of my head.

Alannah, get a grip on yourself. He humiliated and degraded you and will share your embarrassment with your brothers to further prove the point that you’re his new shiny possession. I, Alannah Walsh, the Gorgeous Rose of the Irish Mafia, was no one’s plaything. Athan may have won this battle, but he wouldn’t win the war. I was my own woman and wanted freedom from the shitty mafia life.

I smiled to myself, gazing out the window. I still had plans to make Athan’s life a living hell, but he wasn’t the only one who screwed me over. My brothers’ would feel my fury, too, because I was going to blow up this mafia alliance and burn both the Philadelphia Irish and the Greek mobs to the mother fucking ground.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. 

 Crotchless. Scraps of lace. Tiny strings. Sheer robes. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs as I scrounged in my designer duffle bag, trying to find an oversized worn band tee or my comfy ratty flannel pajamas. Hell, an actual pair of panties. But the clothing in my overnight bag was the contents out of a fucking Agent Provocateur catalog. My fucking sister-in-laws were bitches. One of them was assigned to pack me an overnight bag until all my belongings made it to the Godfather of the night’s Rittenhouse Square Fortress. I knew I should have burned all this skimpy lingerie from my bridal shower. I slowed my breathing trying not to panic as I figured out how best to join my husband in the bedroom.

He had given me twenty minutes of reprieve to shower, brush my teeth, and clean off the blood, sweat, and tears from the day's trauma. Even though the scorching hot shower relaxed my body, it did nothing to wipe the memories of Nolan’s ear piercing screams of pain from my mind. I had never seen anything so horrible in my life. I will have nightmares for decades and never be able to look poor Nolan in the face again. I rubbed at my temples, debating whether I should go out naked, wrapped in a bath towel or some form of barrier one of these lingerie sets would give me. I wasn’t bold enough to put myself on full display in only my birthday suit, and a bath towel wasn’t sexy. Even if I hated Athan, the whore on my shoulder dressed like a sexy devil told me I still wanted him to find me hot. I pulled out the lingerie set that Keelin, Blaine’s wife, had purchased and gifted me at the bridal shower. It was a lacy white number with a choker and garters, but it had the ability to cover more than some of the other sets in my bag.

It took me longer than I liked to put it on, and it left me feeling exposed because the G-string bottoms were crotchless, but it had a lace garter belt I could wear around my waist that made me feel somewhat covered. I opened the bathroom door walking into an empty bedroom. Surprised by Athan’s absence, I silently smile, thinking it must take that pretty boy more time in the bathroom to groom than he’d want his enemies to know. I take in the stark white walls and the massive king-size bed with its masculine gray bedding in the middle of the room. His bedroom was devoid of clutter or personal belongings, making me think he rarely spent time at home. More than likely sleeping elsewhere. Probably in someone else’s bed. I felt a sharp pang in my chest, pushing it to the back of my head, not wanting to think too hard about any feelings Athan provoked. I sat on the corner of the bed closest to the bathroom. I waited while minutes ticked by like hours as I got more and more nervous for my brooding cold husband to make an appearance.

My shoulders tensed as the master bedroom’s door creaked open. I didn’t dare look at Athan enter the room, but I heard a low throaty whistle as he came to stand in front of me. My eyes widen at his heavy colossal erection swinging between his thighs, making my throat dry. I quickly raised my gaze to meet his and melted when he gave me a broad grin as he rubbed the droplets of water from his hair with the bath towel. Athan discarded the towel with a careless toss, his eyes darkening to a stormy gray of sexual desire.

“Jesus! I see the Irish Mafia trains their women well when it comes to seduction,” Athan jabs, rubbing his index finger along my bottom lip and admiring my body barely contained in this racy lingerie set.

“My brothers would die if they knew I owned any of this shit. Bevin’s job was to pack my overnight bag with some clothing until my belongings arrived. I knew I couldn’t trust that bitch,” I growl, crossing my arms over my stomach self-consciously. My husband smirked at the mention of Bevin’s name, making me feel a tinge of jealousy and narrow my eyes.

“So, Bevin gave you that lingerie set, huh,” Athan questions, brazenly standing in front of me unabashedly in all his naked glory. My husband is the sexiest man in Philly. No. Athan Kostas is the sexiest man in the galaxy.  He had a gorgeous tall frame covered in sculpted muscles, and while the numerous scars and tattoos on his body should’ve detracted from his beauty, they heightened it. Athan was pretty tatted up with scars everywhere, adding a dangerous edge and making him even sexier, giving him bad-boy vibes.

“No. I couldn’t figure out how to get on that green scrap of fabric Bevin bought me, so I settled for Keelin, Blaine’s wife’s gift. Plus, I thought the white lace choker and sparkly gold chain were pretty,” I responded, shrugging feeling self-conscious. I jumped a little out of my skin when Athan threw his head back, and genuine laughter shook his frame. I watched, enthralled to see the most sinister sadistic man laugh wholeheartedly, even if it were at my expense.

“Oh, baby girl. My sweet little innocent wife. Either my bedroom rep precedes itself, or your brother is a freak nasty with his wife in the bedroom,” Athan laughs, stepping closer to me and wrapping his hand around the chain hanging from my neck. I scrunch my nose in disgust, not wanting to picture Blaine having sex with anyone. I furrow my brows in confusion, trying to read Athan’s face, not understanding how this lingerie set screamed “freaky.” Athan tugs at the chain, causing me to jerk forward, and continues, “Sexy Red, this isn’t a choker. It’s a collar and a leash that I’m going to enjoy using tonight.” A cold sexy smile spreads across Athan’s face. Shit! I think I made a terrible mistake in my choice of lingerie. I thought I was playing safe, but as if I hadn’t learned enough lessons tonight, my choice of nightwear had poked the bear.

“Whatever. You may be disappointed. Maybe my brothers couldn’t safeguard my virginity as they thought. So you wouldn’t be getting a “virtuous woman” like you made men enjoy to “wife up.” Makes me think all you mobster bosses fear a woman with a few notches in her headboard because you’re all just another boring man in bed that falls into the orgasm gap statistic,” I taunt, trying to act worldly and not like the shy little virgin that I am; quaking in her metaphorical boots on the inside. Athan snorts, yanking me to my feet by the golden chain leash, pulling me flush against his sexy naked body.

“Alannah, shut up. If only all the heads of mafias knew how annoying the Gorgeous Rose’s voice was, they wouldn’t have been lining up to marry you. Nor the top men of the Irish Mafia syndicates. Although cute, the way you fumbled through that blow job and the wonder of seeing a dick for the first time was a dead giveaway that you were a virgin. But I have plenty of time to make you a pro at it. Hell, you’ll be so good you’ll take Bevin’s crown,” Athan jokes before crushing his lips against mine and kissing me with a ferocity that steals my breath away, and every comeback in my mind disappears. He had kissed me passionately and deeply at the altar, but it lacked the desire and lust he was pouring into my soul with this kiss. He kissed me like a man who had won the prize of a lifetime. The way Athan kissed me caused my body to thrum, making me sink into the kiss, opening my mouth and allowing our tongues to tango as I tried to match his cadence.

Athan’s hands tangled in my hair as he pulled away to drag in some air. His sexy pout was swollen red from our kisses, and my body ached for more. He twisted the collar on my neck, so the cold golden metal chain faced him and sat between my shoulder blades flowing freely down my back. He grasped my hair in his fist, yanking my head back and exposing the column of my throat to him. He sucked on my neck until my legs wobbled, leaving me feeling drunk on desire. Letting go of my hair, Athan roughly sinks his teeth into the skin between my neck and shoulder. The pain this causes turns me on, causing my body to flush with sexual heat. Athan thrusts his big hands into the flimsy cups of my bra. My nipples, already painfully erect and swollen, feel insanely sensitive as he rolls them between his fingers. I can’t help myself as I give in to the delicious pleasure as a moan escapes my lips. He tugs my breasts free from my bra, slapping them together, causing me to yelp with sexual delight as the motion sends a sharp tug of lust zinging through my hot wet channel.

Athan leads me by the leash to stand in front of the storage footboard of the bed. Athan opens it up, making my heart race as I gasp at the items inside the storage furniture. I wasn’t sure what most of the things were, but I had read enough smut to know my husband was into some kinky shit. He pulls out a black silk blindfold and a black leather belt, causing me to breathe heavily. He wraps the blindfold gently around my eyes, securing it tightly behind my head, submerging me in darkness, and robbing me of my sight. He places my hands together in front of my chest in a prayer position. I let out a slight squeak as the leather of the belt bites into my wrists as he secures it in place. My heart rate accelerates as desire pools between my thighs in anticipation.

“It’ll feel good. I promise. Not being able to see will heighten your other senses making sex more pleasurable for you. Your hands tied will give me complete control to dominate this sexy little body of yours. I want to fucking own you, Gorgeous Rose. I want to own your body, your orgasms, your screams of pleasure. You're my submissive little slut that will be shouting my name at the top of your lungs so much tonight that you’ll forget any others. I’m going to take good care of you. I will make it hurt as little as possible, but I’m not a gentle man, especially when it comes to fucking. I like it rough, and I know you will too, baby girl.  Pick a safe word. A word you would never say to me, especially in bed.”

I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him in front of me. In between my pants of arousal, I tease, “I. love. you.” I could feel the air in the room shift, and his body went rigid. I heard a loud snap and felt a sharp pain on my ass cheek, causing my pussy to leak onto my inner thighs. I’ve rarely been spanked in my life, and, damn, did Athan slapping my ass cause my pussy to throb.

“Choose another safe word. You may not say you love me, but I’m sure you’ll be screaming how much you love my cock inside you,” Athan patronizes me.

“Rose,” I respond. Easy to remember and hard to forget, I think to myself.

“Good girl. Now, bend over the footboard, legs spread wide, and extend your arms out in front of you,” Athan says in his sexy raspy voice, making me shiver and preen at his words. I’d do anything to hear him call me his good girl or any nasty name in the book because it did things to my body that I’m sure any sane woman wouldn’t enjoy. I do as he commands, realizing it’s not the most comfortable position but curious about what my domineering husband would do next. In my mind, I always pictured myself losing my virginity on my back on a bed filled with rose petals. But, apparently, my husband didn’t do hearts, romance, or flowers to set the mood in the bedroom. I feel his wet hot mouth trail ribbons of fire between my thighs as his tongue licks up and down my inner thighs, tasting my arousal. He nips and bites at my lace-covered pussy lips, letting out a loud groan when his fingers connect with my swollen clitoris; realization setting in that my panties are crotchless. He runs his tongue through my wet, slick folds as he slowly begins moving a thick finger in and out of my pussy. I become delirious with pleasure as he adds another finger to my hot wet center while switching between nibbling on my pussy lips and tonguing and sucking on the sweet bud between my thighs. I couldn’t hold back any longer as his highly skilled mouth and expert fingers flung me into ecstasy. I convulse and shake around his two fingers, stroking my insides. Athan coaxes the orgasm from my body as he laps up my cum, causing my body to become limp on the bed. I hear a bottle open and a loud squirt noise. I feel him coat my vagina that’s slick with my arousal, with a cool gel that begins to heat as he works his fingers in and out of my pussy once again.

“I’m about to fuck you, so, to help from being painful, I’m going to lube us both up. Relax your body, baby girl. The lube should minimize the bleeding from the friction, and I made sure to get that pussy extra wet with your sweet cream and my spit, Sexy Red. So deep breath in and a deep breath out,” Athan commands. On my exhale, I feel him tear through my virginity as he slams his gigantic dick into my body. I let out a squeal of pain as he grabs onto one of my hips, biting into the flesh. Athan’s other hand wraps around and tugs on the chain of the leash, waiting a fraction of a second before slamming into me. My upper body slightly extends off the mattress, gliding in the air as Athan bucks into me. Each time he slams into me, his hold on the leash becomes tighter, slightly choking me, making my hot wet core clench around him because it hurts so good. At first, it’s an unbearable discomfort that quickly turns to pleasure as I move my hips in rhythm with his, trying to chase that same euphoric feeling I felt when his tongue was inside me. I arch my back as he pounds my pussy, slapping my ass, calling me his good little virgin slut. Athan reaches around to my front, gently caressing my clitoris with his thumb, making me feel my body begin to tense as it begins to scale the mountain of sexual delight again. I yell out Athan’s name repeatedly as he sends me spinning into orgasm after orgasm, not letting up until I feel him shoot hot ropes of cum into my body. He lays over my back for a second making me feel secure and protected from his big frame encompassing mine as we both take the time to catch our breath.

Athan pulls out of my swollen, sore pussy, causing me to wince. He kisses my forehead after untying the blindfold causing me to blink a few times to allow my eyes to adjust to the dimly lit bedroom. Athan unties my wrists, massaging life back into them, gently kissing each before pulling me into his embrace and ravaging my lips softly.

“Lay down on the bed, Sexy Red,” Athan whispers in my ear, causing me to shiver when he sucks on my ear lobe. I lay on the bed as he leaves to go into the bathroom. He comes back into the bedroom, cleaning up the mixture of our climax from my body with a warm washcloth, soothing some of the soreness between my thighs. I’m stunned, speechless, by how amazing Athan is at sex. The thought of him fucking me makes my body tingle. I didn’t know I’d find so much pleasure in the frantic primal way he fucked me, far removed from the passionate, sweet lovemaking I thought I’d need from a man to truly enjoy sex. Athan had blown my mind with how he fucks. I sit up on the bed to check my phone after Athan leaves to use the bathroom. I have quite a few missed calls and texts from the twins. I decide to call Devlin the more sane one of the psycho Walsh twins.

“Hello,” Devlin’s baritone voice greets me, making me feel awkward to be on the phone with my brother in an askew sexy lingerie set. I quickly remove the collar, tossing it to the floor. The leash hits the ground with a clink making my clitoris throb from memories of how my new husband got an immense amount of enjoyment from fucking me while choking me with it from the way he tugged on the chain.

“Hey, Dev. What’s wrong,” I ask, my voice hoarse from my screams of pleasure and yelling of my new husband’s name as he fucked me hard. I quickly take off the lingerie set. As I take off my bra, I think Devlin has hung up because my question is met with silence. “Devlin,” I asked, ensuring he hadn’t hung up. I padded over to a set of dressers, thanking god when a drawer full of undershirts opened. I didn’t want to have to sleep naked. I pull out one of Athan’s white t-shirts tugging it over my head, careful not to drop my phone as I wait for Devlin to respond.

“You killed him. You’re childish behavior killed fucking Nolan,” Devlin loudly whispers, with anger dripping from each word.

“What? When w-w-e left, he was a-a-a-alive,” I stutter, feeling tears starting to pour down my heated cheeks as I slowly sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, in that disgusting video of you. God! I can’t think of that shit. Nolan was alive. But when we got to the spot to pick him up, he was on his side with a bullet between his brows and his brain all over the ground. Your fucking husband had him killed, Alannah because you had to play another one of your stupid games. Just know, I think Alistair chose your sick ass as the perfect match because you’re both fucking lunatics,” Devlin screams. Before I can respond, I hear a click. Devlin had hung up in my face leaving me shocked by the whole situation. Had Draco put a bullet in Nolan’s head when he went to drop him at the coordinates where my brothers would pick him up? Is that why it took Athan so long to come to the bedroom? Was he giving more instructions that he didn’t want me to hear?

I feel the bed dip as Athan pulls back the covers and gets into the bed. I turn to look at him. His handsome face wears a serene expression. Probably from blowing his load inside of me, which makes my blood boil. While he was fucking the shit out of me, his men were killing my childhood friend. Sweet Nolan. I see red, lunging myself across the bed at Athan in a fit of anger, ready to claw his eyes out. But before I can get a punch in, he slams my body down by my throat onto the bed. He uses his body weight to hold me trapped under him while securing my hands above my head. I try to bulk his heavy body off of mine, baring my teeth, biting him, and struggling against him until I wear myself out.

“Ah. One of your fifty brothers told you the news. He was mine to kill. I wasn’t going to give him to Alistair to do it,” Athan says, licking my tears away and kissing my mouth gently. I turn my head, hating the gentleness that I’ve noticed he reserves for me when we are alone.

“Alistair wouldn’t have killed Nolan. He’d known him since he was a child and valued him as a soldier. He wouldn’t have hurt Devlin and Lochlan like that,” I whisper, not one hundred percent confident in my words. He wouldn’t have killed him but have let Devlin and Lochlan do the honors because they were his friends. I knew Alistair wouldn’t let Nolan’s disrespect go unpunished, but it may not have been a punishment of death.

“Sexy Red, you really think a man nicknamed ‘Maniacal’ wasn’t going to end Nolan’s life? You’re not even that naïve,” Athan whispers back, restraining my small wrists with one hand so he can turn my face to face him.

“I let you punish me. I thought you would let Nolan live. I willingly gave you my body without a fight. You betrayed me. I shouldn’t have fucking trusted you,” I cry, feeling foolish.

“Good, after all, you are sleeping with the enemy,” Athan jokes, trying to lighten the mood, humor dancing in his silvery gray eyes.

“I want my own room,” I demand angrily as he raises off my body, rolling on his back and tucking me into his side.

“No can do, Gorgeous Rose. I can’t protect you if enemies attack or, even better, fuck you in the middle of the night if you’re in another room. Now, take your ass to bed. Today was a lot. You’ll feel better in the morning,” Athan huffs out, kissing my forehead and whispering something in Greek I can’t understand.

“I need the most protection from you,” I bite out, trying to pull out of his grasp. Athan doesn’t dignify my retort with a response, holding me tighter and tucking my head onto his chest as he reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp plunging us into complete darkness. I let out loud, gut-wrenching sobs, hoping I’ll keep him up all night. I cry because of the blood on my hands. Devlin was right. I killed Nolan, and I will stop at nothing to right my wrongs. Athan’s life will become hell on earth, married to me, and he won’t see it coming when I ultimately get my revenge.

A whisper of a smile crosses my face as I make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the kitchen. I hear footsteps approaching, and I try to school my expression before he walks into the room.

“Draco, get the fuck out,” I hear Athan shout, pushing his little brother by the face to shield his eyes from my nude body. I laugh to myself, taking a huge bite from my sandwich as my husband comes back in the room red in the face.

“I chewed the fuck out of the men outside. But now I know why they all refused to follow me into the kitchen, even though you’re supposed to have a guard on you at all times. You know the rules Alannah,” Athan bellows, crossing the kitchen to invade my space. I look up at him with pretend naivety. My body betraying me as my nipples grow long and erect from Athan’s proximity to me.

“I’m not stopping any of the guards from hanging out with me,” I say, feigning innocence, taking another bite from my sandwich.

“You can only be naked in our bedroom. How many times do I have to fucking tell you that? My men don’t want a bullet to the fucking head. They’re not going to be around the Godfather of the Night’s wife while she’s nude,” Athan grinds out between clenched teeth. In the little over two months that I’d been married to Athan, his anger worked as an aphrodisiac for my body. My ruthless, emotionless husband did not have a short fuse. So I had been spending most of my time finding ways to really push his buttons. I had given him food poisoning twice, which only made him bar me from cooking his meals. I had changed out his bullets for blanks which made him paranoid about his men causing him to rotate through the soldiers that guarded his beautiful mansion. Yet, the only thing that had caused him to get really upset was if I’d violated any of the five million rules he constantly lectured me about following. One of them being that my body was for his eyes only after I went skinny dipping and tanning in our backyard.

“Also, what the fuck did you do to your hair,” Athan questions, wrapping a strand of my hair around his finger.

“You like,” I ask seductively, rubbing my hands up and down his muscular pecs. His nostrils flare as he examines my purplish-black hair I’d recently dyed this morning. My husband was insatiable. Frequently fucking me anywhere and everywhere. But one of the things I noticed every time we screwed is that he’d praise me for my copper curls, telling me he had always been most attracted to redheads, not to mention his nickname for me, Sexy Red. I wanted to get under his skin, so I altered my appearance, wanting to see his reaction and hoping he’d blow a gasket.

“It’s not bad. I’ll just have to get used to it. You’re still sexy as fuck, baby girl,” He murmurs, polishing off my sandwich and then licking my fingers clean, causing my empty core to clench in sexual anticipation. I let out a low throaty moan causing a smirk to creep onto his face. “You know, Sexy Red, I’m going to have to punish you. Stay down here and don’t move, Alannah. I mean it,” Athan whispers, rolling and pinching my nipples between his fingers, causing my pussy to grow wet. I wasn’t a stranger to Athan’s punishments. At first, I was scared because he was the Lethal Lunatic. After all, when it came to me, his punishments were usually sexual in nature, which ended with me passing out from exhaustion and after many, many orgasms. Honestly, Athan could punish me all day, and I’d die a happy death. I mean, was it possible to climax to death?

I cleaned up the kitchen while I awaited my husband’s return. Our eyes collided, causing my stomach to flutter when I saw what he was holding in his hands. He sat the items onto the countertop and hoisted me in a seated position next to his supplies. He bent his beautiful head, taking one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking it with fervor as he cupped and palmed my other one. I bit my lip, trying not to moan, knowing he’d get upset because he didn’t want me to share my squeals of pleasure with anyone but him. Yet, he knew I got off from being fucked in public places where anyone could possibly see or hear me. I didn’t have to tell him, but my pussy always got the wettest when we fucked somewhere we might get caught. So, he leaned into this little kink of mine every chance he got. Athan even called me his little exhibitionist.

Once my nipples were hard and painfully erect to his satisfaction, he tightened the nipple clamps onto my nipples, causing me to mewl at the pleasurable pain. Athan smirked, flicking one of my nipples, causing me to almost jackknife off the countertop.

“Open wide, Sexy Red,” Athan demanded. I obeyed him without hesitation rubbing my thighs together, trying to relieve some of the sexual tension causing my clitoris to swell with desire. He slipped the O-Ring gag into my mouth, tightening it around my head so I couldn’t close it. I grew even wetter thinking about the last time I wore this open-mouth gag attached to the nipple clamps. He had my wrist and ankles cuffed to a spreader bar, and the way he used me like a fuck toy had my body aching for his days afterward. “My dirty whore likes it,” Athan laughs, stepping away from me. He takes the belt from the loops of his pants, causing me to suck in a breath. Athan hadn’t spanked me with more than his hand, so my stomach fluttered with nerves.

“Get off the counter, turn around, and lay flat down on it,” Athan commanded. I quickly obeyed his wishes, the marble countertop feeling amazing against my heated flesh. A loud crack sounds in the air shifting me forward on the countertop, causing my overly sensitive engorged nipples to scrape across the counter as my ass is set ablaze from the belt.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

By the fifth crack of the belt to my behind, my ass was on fire, I had drool and tears running down my face, and my pussy was throbbing and clenching, craving to be filled with Athan’s colossal dick to satiate my sexual needs. My hips collide with the counter for the last and final time as the belt connects with the sore flesh of my bottom. My nipples are tingling from the friction of them rubbing against the countertop while pinched by the clamps.

Athan drops the belt to the kitchen floor, sliding his fingers through the slippery folds of my pussy lips, testing my readiness. Athan laughs to himself, grunting, “Man, Sexy Red. Your pussy is drenched and ready for my cock.” I let out a low purr as he roughly slides his dick into me and painfully wraps his fist into my hair. Athan ruts into me like a wild animal, fucking me erratically. Pain pricks my scalp and zings to my nipples, causing them to get even more erect. Every tug of my hair causes the gag to pull deliciously at the nipple clamps working me into a sexual frenzy of lust. Athan slides out of me, causing me to whimper in frustration at the emptiness, but it’s short-lived because he picks me up, impaling me on his dick to fuck me in the piston position.

I wrap my arms around his neck, muffling my moans of pleasure from the deep penetration and kegeling his big thick manhood as he thrusts into me from this standing sex position. Athan lets out a grunt as he pistons his hips, bouncing me on his dick and causing my sensitive nipples to scrape against his hairy pectoral muscles, causing me to feel my orgasm begin to build as my head spins deliriously from sensation overdrive.

“You take my dick so well, baby girl. You are such a good girl when you're bouncing on my cock. I love how obedient you are when it comes to getting nasty with me. You’re the perfect submissive slut. You have the best pussy on earth, Sexy Red,” Athan whispers into my ear. His filthy mouth causes me to convulse around him, clamping down on his dick as I shatter into a million pieces chasing the ecstasy of my orgasm.

“Ahhh,” I scream out as Athan’s fingers dig into the sore flesh of my ass as he finds his sexual release after me. He grabs onto the countertop for support, so he doesn’t drop me flat on my ass. I let go of his neck, trying to catch my breath as he lowers me back onto the countertop. He removes the gag from my mouth while I tug my nipples free from the clamps. Athan’s mouth crashes down on mine roughly before he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine, mumbling Greek phrases to me I can’t understand. Then, he quickly and coldly untangles his body from mine, walking away from me.

“Get dressed. We’re going out for dinner,” Athan says callously, walking out of the room and slamming his office door shut behind him. Sex without aftercare is my real punishment. My husband fucked me practically fully clothed, leaving me feeling emotionally and physically exposed on the hard cold countertop of our kitchen. In moments like this, I remember why I had such malicious feelings toward my husband.

“Don’t you dare check your coat,” Athan hisses maliciously at me, grabbing me by my arm and pulling my black mink coat back onto my shoulders.

I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling like a Cheshire cat. I impatiently ask, “Why not, husband? I’m feeling a little hot.” Athan’s nostrils flare at me as he drinks in my outfit. I’m wearing a tight high-waisted mini skirt and a black lace bralette that barely contains my generous amount of cleavage on display. If my husband wanted to treat me like a whore then I’d dress like one for him too.

“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you dressed like one of the workers of my whorehouses. Jesus, Alannah, we’re here for dinner with Draco and Lotus at a Michelin three-star restaurant, and you chose to dress like a two-bit sugar baby,” Athan grinds out, dragging me through the restaurant, causing me to bump into a solid chest. I stumble on my high heels, almost falling flat on my ass.

“Kian,” I say, grabbing hold of my brother’s forearm and staring into his similar aquamarine blue eyes. Kian is the brother that I most closely resemble. He’s strikingly beautiful in his own right. More beautiful than any man should be if you ask me. He’s my only brother with copper hair, though it’s darkened more into an auburn or brownish red with age. Kian and I are the closest because out of the five boys being the middle son, he was treated like the red-headed stepchild, no pun intended.

Kian balks at my new appearance with my purplish black locks, revealing outfit, and heavily made-up face. Bevin comes into view, snickering at my new appearance, causing heat to rise up my neck.

“Wow, Alannah. You look like Snow White. I thought Athan was with a lover,” Kian jokes, letting go of me. I tense, feeling my blood boil at the thought of Athan sticking his dick or any of his body parts near another woman. He’d wake up Lorena Bobbit style if he so much as thought about sticking his dick somewhere it didn’t belong. What the fuck is wrong with me? My thoughts had strayed to those of a jealous wife and not someone married to her worst nemesis.

“We’re here to have dinner with Athan’s brother and sister. You two should join,” I suggest. Athan tenses behind me, causing me to grin.

“It’s been a while, so sure sweet little one,” Kian says, placing his hand on the small of Bevin’s back. But Bevin only has eyes for Athan as she almost stumbles when Kian guides her forward. I roll my eyes to myself, following the Maître D to our reserved table. I invited Kian and Bevin to dinner in hopes it would get under Athan’s skin by making him dine with a made man of the Irish mob, but boy, was I wrong. My plan completely backfired because I was subjected to outright flirting between Bevin and Athan. His blatant disrespect for me as his wife made my skin crawl, especially with my brother’s wife, of all people. Yet, Kian didn’t seem to be bothered, probably because it seemed like he only had eyes for Lotus Kostas.

A few courses into dinner, I felt sick to my stomach. I was more than likely sick to my stomach with jealousy from the sexual innuendos and the attention Athan was showing Bevin. Bevin was beautiful with her waist-length blonde hair, pure hazel eyes, and modelesque body. Plus, she oozes sex appeal, her sexual confidence always demanding the attention of every man in the room. At twenty-nine, Bevin was ten years older than me, and I have always been enthralled by how she could weave a magic web around men. Except, the one she was weaving around Athan Kostas, my husband, wasn’t impressive; it was just annoying and infuriating.

“Kian. Will you please take me home? I want to spend the night in my old room at Alistair’s,” I quietly asked, blinking back tears. I don’t give Athan eye contact, but I feel his big body go rigid beside me. Kian’s eyes narrow, darting between Athan and me before settling on my sad expression.

“Ah, sweet little one. As much as Bridie and Alistair would love for you to visit. You know you can’t go home to them. Not being the Godfather of the Night’s wife. But, Gorgeous Rose, we’ll have dinner with them soon,” Kian answers with care, stroking my arm across the table before sending daggers with his eyes Athan’s way. I quickly dashed a tear away from my cheek, feeling the pressure of my new life getting to me and missing my old reality. 

“Can you at least take me for a drive like old times,” I plead with my big brother, my voice small. Lotus rubs my back soothingly, giving me a concerned look.

“I sure will, sweet little one,” Kian responds, bringing my hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on my palm, which helps slightly soothe my anxiety.

“No. If she’s not feeling well, Draco can take her home,” Athan demands. Hmm. Interesting. He offered up his brother to take me home but not him. My heart cracked a little on the inside as my mind wondered why he didn’t want to cut his evening or, better yet, his time in Bevin’s presence short for the night. Ignoring Athan’s demand, I rose from my seat, and so did Kian. But as we turned to leave, Athan placed the barrel of his gun to Kian’s head at the same time that Kian placed his own to Athan’s abdomen. It’s like both men had a second sense and drew their weapons at the same time.

Bevin rolled her eyes at the theatrics, crossing her arms over her chest, and snorting, upset that she was no longer the center of Athan’s attention. Draco had pulled Lotus behind him and was now pointing his gun at Kian, as well. The dam broke, causing me to sniffle as fat tears ran down my face. I turned and hightailed it towards the exit, hoping that maybe I could flag down a taxi or call a rideshare to Alistair’s or anywhere but here or my husband’s fortress.

Before I make it to the exit, I’m manhandled into the women’s restroom and into a bathroom stall. The familiar intoxicating scent of oak and sandalwood fills my nostrils, easing my fear that some strange man or an enemy of my husband had grabbed me. I stare into stormy gray eyes filled with anger as I wrench myself out of his grasp.

“Are you fucking Bevin,” I question through clenched teeth.

Athan rolls his eyes, responding, “What does it fucking matter If I am? Are you jealous? That’s cute. But if you are, get over it. The same rules don’t apply to a mafia boss as they do to a mafia wife. I can fuck whomever I choose.” My eyes widened because he didn’t deny it, making me feel like a fucking idiot. I felt as if he had slapped me.

“I want to go home, and I want you to take me,” is the only response I can muster after his declaration that he didn’t see a need to be faithful to me even though I had to show him that respect.

He stared down into my face trying to see into my soul for the millionth time since our wedding day, but I hope I gave nothing away.

“The sooner you get knocked up, the less time we’ll have to spend together,” Athan reassures. I’m unsure if the reassurance is more for him or me. But as we exited the restaurant, I was beginning to think that the best vengeance and way to make his life hell was not to give him the heir he desperately wanted. After tonight, I’m willing to do anything in my power to keep from getting pregnant.

I sit outside bathing in the sun while reading the latest smutty fantasy romance novel by Sophie Lark. I cuddle up under my blanket on the gray sectional. I read the same page twice, releasing an exasperated breath and rubbing my temples. My relationship with Athan had been running through my mind since this morning’s visit to the gyno for my birth control appointment. Shockingly, I had to admit that most of my time married to the Godfather of the Night has been extremely enjoyable. Still, there were times I thought about smothering him with a pillow or stabbing him in his sleep. Hell, even times, I wanted to pour thallium into his morning coffee. However, Athan showed me a side of himself that he didn’t show others. Almost like he was putting in actual effort to make this marriage somewhat bearable for me.

We watch television together, he’d cook me dinner, and he even indulges me by reading a smutty romance novel with me that typically leads to us attempting to fuck like the characters in some of my hottest reads. Recently, Athan even made me feel like he’d support my dreams of starting a creative writing degree program at one of the local universities in Philly. But I placed my hand against my flat stomach biting on my lip because there wasn’t anything in this world that could make me bring a baby into a loveless marriage and the cold, violent mafia lifestyle. My one job in this marriage was to birth a male heir to take Athan’s place. I close my eyes, wincing thinking about the cruelty my brothers and I faced growing up under a cruel mafia boss and even Lotus’s story of Athan killing their own father to protect her from being sold off to the Bratva to do unspeakable things with her. Athan had to raise a tough man who could survive in this world, and I hated the idea.

I jump at the sound of the balcony door crashing open, screaming at the sight of Athan covered in blood. I’d never seen so much rage on his face directed at me. He took a couple of deep breaths before asking, “Where the fuck did you escape this morning? I just got word you were missing for hours, Alannah. Where the fuck did you go? You know better than to give the security team the slip.”

I change the subject avoiding the question, “Are you okay? Why are you covered in so much blood?”

“I had to cut a torture session I was thoroughly enjoying short because I had to deal with the bullshit frenzy you caused amongst my guards,” he yells, grabbing me up by the wrist. For the first time in the three months of being married to Athan, I am afraid for my life. He’s never been hot-tempered, but I don’t think he’s had a cool down period to switch from the Lethal Lunatic to my cool even-tempered husband.

I grew up with one of the worst fucking bullies. The man made my mother choose death rather than a life of matrimony with him. I wasn’t going to show fear to the Godfather of the Night. I snatched my wrist from his grasp, holding my head high. I responded, “Maybe I met up with a lover. How’s Bevin, by the way?” Athan’s eyes narrow, his face bright red, and he lifts a chair off the patio and launches it into the pool. I hold my breath, unsure if I am going to survive an episode of Athan hulking the fuck out.

Athan tosses my book to the ground, yanking the blanket from my body and lifting me off the sectional by my baggy-worn band tee. Bending me in half at the waist, he lifts my shirt, exposing my backside to him. Athan pushes me to my knees, holding me down onto the cushion of the sectional and using one of his massive hands to restrain my wrists. He begins finger fucking me, stroking my clitoris with his thumb while stimulating my G-spot by moving thick fingers in and out of me, massaging that pleasure spot inside my hot wet center. He does this until my body feels overheated, my pussy is sopping wet and throbbing, and I feel my climax building. Then, when I’m close, Athan yanks his hand away, leaving me on edge and about to explode.

“I’ll ask you again where the fuck were you,” he yells, ramming his cock inside of me and pumping into me, making the pressure build inside of me again. Once I start to convulse and feel like I’m about to cum he yanks his dick from my pussy, leaving my muscles clenching around its new emptiness as he shoots hot ropes of his seamen onto my back. I let out a frustrated growl trying to rub my thighs together to get some satiation or work myself over the mountain of pleasure I’m teetering upon, but he kicks my legs wide apart.

“It must be fucking nice, huh? To have a spouse whose pleasure and orgasms are dependent on if you want to let them cum or not. I wish I knew how it felt not to have to share a community dick with every woman in town,” I cry out as the sound of the hard slap of his palm to my ass ricochets around the balcony.

“Oh, Sexy Red, you’re a jealous little brat, aren’t you, baby girl? Now, tell me where the fuck you went,” Athan demands, tightening his hold on my wrist and thrusting his fingers inside of me, causing tears to fall from my eyes. I was so sexually frustrated, but if this would be the hill that I died on with him, so be it. For the next twenty minutes, he used his hands, tongue, mouth, and even the friction of his dick sliding between my swollen, sensitive pussy lips to work me up and deny me of my orgasm.

“Fuck, okay. Please just let me fucking cum, okay! I went to the gynecologist,” I yell through tears. Athan flips me around, eyeing me in confusion before tossing me gently onto the sectional. He crawls between my thighs and slides his dick into my slick folds. He gently rocks our bodies, his dick hitting my G-spot as he sucks on my nipples and swirls his thumb around my clitoris until I finally fall over the edge into an orgasm. I scream out my release, wrapping my legs around him tightly and clamping around his dick. He strokes into me fast and hard until he explodes inside of me. Then, as always, he mumbles some shit to me in Greek, which I can’t understand.

I open my eyes, and silvery gray ones meet my gaze. Athan wipes a tear from my eye and eagerly exclaims, “Does that mean you're pregnant? I would’ve come with you to the appointment if you thought you were pregnant. That’s not something you need to hide from me, and I’d like to be included in every step of your pregnancy, baby girl. It’s my child, too.”

I roll my eyes, pushing at his chest. It was hard having this conversation with him with his dick throbbing inside me, becoming semi-erect from his excitement of thinking I was pregnant with his evil spawn. But this hulk of a man doesn’t budge. I turn my head and respond woodenly, “It was a false alarm. And it may be your child, too, but it’d be using MY body as its oven. Plus, if I were pregnant by someone like you, I’d need to slip away to get rid of it at the first chance I could.”

Athan pulls out of me quickly, allowing me the opportunity to tug down my shirt to gain some modesty in this situation. I look down at my body feeling ill, noticing that he fucked me covered in someone’s blood. Hell. Athan probably got off on that shit.

He quickly redresses before turning to face me. The softness. The tenderness. The first signs of humanization in my husband’s eyes of the joy of having a baby are replaced with a cold dead expression I rarely see directed at me. My heart physically hurt, almost broke for him, but I shoved it away, remembering I was married to the sadistic devil himself.

“What freedoms you had are now gone. You can’t leave this fucking house. You can’t visit Bridie, Keelin, or even Lotus. Clothed or naked, I will have a man with you every second of the day. Draco or I will be by your side if you don't have a guard. You will live on house arrest until you get pregnant and have the baby. So you better hope you get pregnant fast if you want your freedom,” Athan says.

Athan is a total asshole. I want to yell. I want to cry. Hell, I want to launch myself over the fucking balcony. But instead, I smile and say, “Whatever you want, dear husband. I just traded one gilded cage for another. Alistair clipped my wings a long time ago.” Athan rolled his eyes and left me alone. The clock was ticking. In due time, I’d be free. I just had to bide my time. Athan wasn’t fucking invincible.

“Let me guess, Athan couldn’t drive me to this dinner at Alistair’s house because he’s balls deep in Bevin’s pussy,” I ask Draco as we pull into the driveway of the home that feels like a distant memory to me.

“Nah, doubt it. My brother’s had sex with his fair share of whores. But the ones he had sex with, he had to pay for it,” Draco states, causing me to erupt in laughter. Since Athan had locked me away in his grandeur fortress, I’d become closer these past few weeks to my brother-in-law. Draco reminded me a lot of Kian, making me feel a weird sense of calm. We started to bond over many things, such as our love of reading and fast cars.

Draco comes to my door and opens it, giving me his hand to help me out of the SUV. I place my hand in the crook of his arm as we make our way up to the front door. I tug him back before he opens it, stating, “Oh, Dray, I’ve been meaning to ask you something that Athan always tells me when it’s just us two. Since you’ve been helping me learn Greek, I’ve been dying to know.” He looks down at me questioningly, and I fumble through the Greek phrases that Athan often whispers to me. Draco freezes, and his face drains of color. Oh shit! I knew it! I bet the Lethal Lunatic has been whispering to me the ways he’s going to torture me to death.

“What do you think he’s saying,” Draco humors me.

“I think it’s a prayer that we make it through the next day without him wringing my neck,” I giggle as he walks us through the house. Draco laughs and shrugs, untangling my hand from his arm, not wanting to start any bullshit with his possessive older brother.

It took me forever to get dressed, so Draco and I were the last to arrive. Everyone stands as we approach the table; my husband kisses my forehead and pulls my chair out for me. I take my seat next to Athan, and the dinner goes fairly smoothly until Bevin and Kian get into a heated argument at the other end of the table, and she excuses herself to the bathroom.

“Aren’t you going to follow her and soothe her with your dick,” I whisper loudly to Athan.

“Why would he follow Kian’s wife,” Alistair questions, cutting a spiteful glare in Athan’s direction.

“Your sister has quite the imagination,” Athan shrugs off, lifting his glass to his lips.

“I’d hope you’d respect her since you’ve never shown any interest in any woman until the ‘Gorgeous Rose’ became an option,” Alistair jeered, causing Athan’s knuckles to go white around his wine glass. What. The. Fuck? Athan actually wanted me as his wife?

“Of course. I take my role as her husband seriously, especially the bedroom duties,” Athan jibes back, causing my core to clench. My face turns red from embarrassment; before Alistair can respond to the jab, gunshots ring in the air right outside of the formal dining room. Athan quickly pushes me under the table, taking out his gun and looking around. “Fucking stay here, Sexy Red. Please, if you never do anything else that I ask of you, fucking stay under here until Draco or I come to get you,” Athan demands, giving me a punishing kiss and following my brothers and their combined men out of the dining room.

I felt like I could finally breathe easy for the first time in these past few months, knowing that all the chess pieces were finally falling into place for me. Both mob bosses in my life treated me like an object. Athan treated me like his trophy. The Helen of Troy he would go to war over because he had the woman many men wanted on his arm and in his bed. He got so caught up in Alistair’s collateral that he didn’t realize that his leverage was actually a Trojan Horse. Alistair planted me into the Greek Mafia, not as a peace offering but to be his enemy's downfall. He wanted Athan Kostas, the Godfather of the Night, dead. What started as me just being the Irish Mafia’s spy and watchdog, my brother wanted Athan dead more now than ever. He had been buying his time and may have kept to the terms of the peace agreement if it weren’t for Athan’s continual disrespect of the Irish Mafia. Alistair was still pissed about the wedding debacle, the handling of Nolan’s punishment, and the pornographic video of me swallowing Athan’s dick.  Therefore, I was supposed to set up an attack by Arina and Oleg Levin, the most powerful American bratva heads, on my husband’s doorstep to do the Irish mafia’s dirty work. However, Alistair underestimated how much I wanted my freedom and that I didn’t take it too kindly that he forced this role upon me like it had to be my birthright. If the Irish and Greek mafia bosses wanted each other dead, I’d bring death to both their doorsteps and let the better man win.

Now was my chance to escape. I would finally be free of this mafia world. I’d never wanted this life nor to be the pawn between two rival crime families. I crawled out from under the table, running opposite the gunshots, ignoring Bridie and Keelin screaming my name. I run through one of the secret passageways and into the courtyard. My heartbeat accelerates, causing me to freeze in terror at the scene in front of me. Draco was in a shootout with two Bratva men. Draco was known for being a quick shot, so I knew he could take on those two men. But he didn’t see the man aiming at him from behind. Fuck! My feet began to move before I could think better of it. I heard my name screamed by many men but couldn’t pinpoint by who or from where. I felt the searing, burning pain in my abdomen as I crashed into Draco.

“Alannah, what the fuck,” Draco screamed, dragging me into the shrubbery to give us some cover, so we were no longer out in the open amid gunfire. Oh no. Oh no. I thought to myself, feeling the wetness seep through my fingers as Draco covered my hands. His eyes were wide as saucers as he peered down at the bullet wound in my abdomen.

“I n-n-need you to listen to me. If I make it to a hospital, I need you all to save my baby,” I cry, feeling hot tears run down my face while I gasp for breath. I had hidden the sonogram in my latest smutty fantasy romance by Sophie Lark and looked at it countless times each day. I was more determined than ever to bring the war to Athan’s and Alistair’s doorstep if it meant freeing my baby and me from this violent life. Yet my mother may have just been a cautionary tale I shouldn’t have ignored.

Draco’s eyes go wide as he blinks back his own tears upon realizing that his little niece or nephew is in danger as well. Draco ripped off his button-down to apply more pressure to the wound. He wiped at the sweat on my brow and whispered, “My wife. My beauty. My Love. My Everything.” I furrow my clammy forehead in confusion. I have no clue what the fuck Draco is saying and why he’s saying those things to me. Maybe I’m delirious from the blood loss from the bullet wound.

“W-w-what? I know we’re becoming best buds, but-“ I joke through tears trying to lighten the mood.

“Athan says that to you every time. Those are the Greek words he’s saying to you, almost like a personal vow. I think my brother loves you in his own weird way. Don’t die thinking the worst of him,” Draco whispers.

“Jesus! Damn it, Alannah. I can’t lose you,” Athan yells, falling to his knees beside his brother.

Fuck. I need to tell Athan I’m pregnant. My baby will protect me from the Lethal Lunatic because if he finds out I set him up, there will be hell to pay.

“I-I-I lied. I-I-I’m pregnant. It w-w-wasn’t a scare. I went for birth control and found out we w-w-were pregnant,” I barely get out through labored breathing. I see the world around me swim as I try to force out the last phrase, “I-I lo-“ but I’m overtaken by darkness.

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