Chapter 4

Four

Bella

M y heart fails me for a few seconds. The brutal honesty can do that.

He's keeping me hidden so he can figure out how to handle the daughter of his traitorous enforcer. The truth is revealed. I would not be surprised if he has an incinerator in a place like this. He can burn the bodies to ash and be done with one trouble after another. Places like this—stone mansions in the middle of nowhere—hold secrets. Deadly ones.

"Still want me to find some plastic and a couple of chains? Or would you rather I show you to your room so you can shower?" He leads us into the house through a large door, holding my hand in his. We step into a lavish foyer with a pretty carpet underfoot. In front of us is a large grand staircase with a winding wood railing that gleams under the soft lighting. It leads to a second floor and on either side of me are high arches that lead to other parts of the mansion, I presume. From the twinkling chandeliers to the intricate floral carpets, this place is beautiful. It feels like we stepped out of modern-day Chicago and fell back in time.

The man I want to hate casually stands his large figure at my side and silently—patiently—waits for me to take in his home.

My mind reels. "Honestly, I would like for you to do something to make me hate you so much that I would want to kill you in your sleep." I didn't mean to say those exact words when I opened my mouth, but it's too late to take them back so I lift my chin and act tough.

The Beast lifts my chin with his other hand. "Or, I could show you why they call me the Beast."

The playful tug on his lip says I might like the answer.

When I mirror his smirk, De La Rosa stares at me like I'm the only object of value in the room. "Are you always so brutally honest?" he asks in a husky rumble.

I push his hold on my chin away. "My father says I need to learn how to lie. I never got around to it. It seemed not worth my time when telling the truth was faster," I state firmly.

As I speak, his gaze drifts over me, only slightly pausing when his attention reaches my breasts.

Eyes still lingering on my body, he says flatly, "Your father." I don't imagine the disgust in his tone.

"Yes. The man who raised me and the man who nearly died tonight."

"Of his own choice." De La Rosa drops my hand and places his foot on the first step that leads to the higher levels just as an aging woman with tight gray curls and a serene smile comes out of a side door. She's wearing a navy-blue dress and matching flats. A white apron is tied around her cinched middle. Fine creases etch into soft skin along the eyes and stress lines litter her forehead. I would have them too if I worked for a man like De La Rosa.

"Sir, will the emerald suite be suitable for your guest?"

The older woman joins us by the stairs and moves up to stand at eye level with my captor, owner, boss. Whatever he is to me now.

"Mabel. Yes. That will be fine. Show our guest her suite."

"Very well. This way, miss." She doesn't come off as cold, but there is a tired energy about her that tells me she's ready for the day to end. Good. So am I. I can fight my way out of here tomorrow. Right now, I can't hold an argument with a cardboard box.

"Thank you," I offer as she signals for me to fall in behind her. Behind me, there's a snort I choose to ignore as I climb the stairs behind Mabel.

We turn left at the top of the stairs, and I'm silently led to a room down a wide corridor with end tables here and there adorned with more roses. All the doors along the way are shut so I can't catch peeks inside.

"This is your suite." Mabel slides a gold key into the lock and reaches in, flipping on the light to reveal a room decorated in deep royal greens and blues in the glow of corner lamps. If it isn't a dark jewel color, it is a bright gleaming gold.

"It's beautiful."

"It is. This is the Queen's suite." Mabel walks to the bed and turns down the heavy duvet and sheets to reveal snow-white cotton beneath a sea of emerald green. The same color as my eyes.

"Queen suite? As in De La Rosa is married?" My heart drops to thud against the perfectly polished wood flooring.

Mabel holds a hand up, her lips ready to move when we are both startled silent.

"That will be all, Mabel."

I jump, grabbing the edge of the bed for balance. I didn't realize he was behind me, much less in the room with us.

Flushed, I turn around to find him drinking in all my angles. Mabel drops her chin to her chest and casts her gaze to the floor between the three of us.

"Yes, sir. Would you like me to bring up a couple of platters for the two of you?"

I hold a hand up. "Not for me. Thank you. I've lost my appetite."

"Okay."

Mabel moves toward the door, but before she gets too far from me, I reach out and take her hands in mine. "Thank you, Mabel." I give her hands a squeeze before she can escape back down the hallway and into some other distant part of the house.

"You're welcome, ma'am. Welcome to De La Rosa mansion."

With that, I am left alone with the Beast once again.

She reminds me of the grandma in all the old T.V. shows my dad loves. Kind-hearted and sweet to the core.

"If you need anything, I'm across the hall." Instead of leaving me, De La Rosa walks across the room and takes the edges of the curtains in hand. He flings them open to reveal an unending garden bathed in silver light. He moves to a switch on the wall near the window and turns on two more lights–crystal chandeliers overhead. One near the bed and another over a sitting area near a large window with a seat and several pillows adorning the large space.

It's all beautiful, and it would be so easy to get lost in the lavish surroundings. I come from a small-dingy-apartment life where, if anything got washed, organized or polished, I did it. My father was working or sleeping. Not that we didn't have money, but my father didn't believe in spending it on frivolous things when it could go toward sending me to art school in Europe.

De La Rosa walks toward me with his lips tilted into a half frown, half scowl. Dark brows pinch tight and from this angle, his scars look deeper. To me, he looks tortured to the soul and appears unapproachable. But when he reaches me where I stand at the edge of the bed and brushes the hair from my face, he's gentle. He takes the time to sweep the hair behind my shoulder before he wraps an arm around my waist. He's not in the least bit shy about the scars. If anything, he suffers from too much confidence.

My eyes grow wide. I look at him absolutely stunned by his audacity. "What are you doing?"

He mumbles something under his breath. I only catch the hint of a few words that sound like possess and hunger . The masculine throat groan tells me more than any words. So do his roaming hands.

"De La Rosa?"

"I'm touching what I own." He leans in and brushes the tip of his nose up the soft curve of my cheek. His lips are gentle, as are his hands when they come around and settle over my lower back.

With no other place to put my hands, I settle them over his large shoulders.

"Is there another woman in your life, De la Rosa?" My words are a whisper between us. "Am I taking her room?" I shouldn't care, but I find deep down that I do. I will not have this man touch me like I could be more than just a captive fling to him if he is spoken for.

"Don't call me that," he mouths against the soft flesh of my neck. He didn't waste any time moving lower while I worry about his commitment issues.

"Should I call you the Beast, then? That's all I heard tonight at the fight."

He buries his hand in my hair and takes my lips in a hard, crushing kiss. I let out a delicious sigh, and he takes full advantage. His tongue sweeps in. He steals my breath like a man used to taking everything he wants. He tastes like a hot, badass alpha. Arrogant bastard. The scent of his earth sandalwood cologne wraps around my senses, and I'm lured down a dark path of letting my inner Catwoman out to play rather than pay attention to real-life issues.

I press on his shoulders, and he breaks the kiss. "Answer me, Beast."

Those dark brows of his tighten further and the scowl gripping his expression deepens.

"I don't like that name on your lips either."

"You kissed me like one back at the fight. Uninvited and?—"

"—unwelcomed is what you were about to say. Hardly, little rose. Your tongue slipped into my mouth when I kissed you and I heard the tiniest of moans." A wicked grin works over his kissable lips, and his expression morphs with a matching amount of arrogance. "You think I didn't hear you enjoy the way I took your mouth?"

Something primal flickers in the deep set of his blue eyes.

We are entering dangerous territory. One false move here and he'll have the upper hand over me forever because I know one touch from him, and I'll easily fall to my knees and obey his every command. "You haven't answered my question, Beast."

He grabs my chin. "Call me that one more time."

All that respect I just mentioned? Yeah, to hell with that. "Beast," I taunt, enunciating each syllable and then snapping my teeth in his face.

His eyes flare with a wildness that matches his namesake.

I'm flung onto the bed. My dress rides up when he grabs my ankles and drags me to the end. I yelp and thrash against his tight hold on me. He doesn't let go.

"I warned you." When my ass hits the edge of the bed, he flips me over. Cool air brushes against all the exposed skin. I angle my head around just as he flings the hem of my dress up, exposing the white silk of my panties.

"God, woman. You are the perfect picture of innocence."

I like a bikini cut and he seems to appreciate my preference in my panty design. It gives a hint of flesh but doesn't fall into the seam of my ass when I walk.

His hands slip under the edge and his nostrils flare. His eyes take it all in like he's a starved man and I'm sating his deepest desires. The warm, rough palm of his hand caresses over the plumpness of my ass. The kingpin's expression darkens. The glitter in his eyes deepens. His brows draw tight.

"Valerian?" I use his first name for the first time and the grip on my ass tightens to the point of marking my flesh.

I press into his touch.

"Valerian," I urge again, this time with a throaty moan.

His eyes flick to mine a moment before returning to drink in my bare flesh. But it seems like he knows what I am asking.

"No. There is no other woman. There's just me, my enforcers, and Mabel. Now I have a question of my own."

I swallow thickly.

"Have you taken a man before, little rose?"

His finger slips deeper under the edge of my panties and my body takes it as a personal invitation to spill heat into the strip of cloth between my thighs. I press my hands to push myself off the bed, but his other hand settles firmly in the middle of my back.

"Answer me," he orders gruffly.

"I…" I close my mouth and swallow the lump of fear in the back of my throat. How do I say no without sounding like a loser? I could lie. He wouldn't be so interested if he thought I had a lover.

"No." Now isn't the time to start lying.

My body hums with an unfamiliar heat that is hard to ignore. I'm no longer in control here. He is. He glides his finger along the curve of my ass and with the slightest of touches to my inner thigh, I spread my legs.

My pussy clenches when his fingers tease over the warm, wet flesh. I shudder and press into his touch. He makes me curious about the heat spilling into my veins. I've never wanted a man to spread my legs and take my virginity more than I do right now. I always thought it wouldn't happen until I walked down the aisle, but this beast of a man awakens hungers no man has ever stirred inside me.

"Valerian," I warn in a shaky breath. I want this, but at the same time, doubt plagues me. Will he think he has full control over me?

"Yes, Bella. I'm touching you in ways I have no right to do. Give my demons a small taste to hold them over."

Our gazes clash. "What does that mean?"

"Let me show you, little rose. Let me show you what you do to my self-control. Just one taste."

He kneels behind me and tugs the material of my panties to the side. Stitches pop and tear. Strong fingers force my legs around wide shoulders. I gasp into the large vastness of the bedroom and let out a moan at what he does next.

He spreads my folds and drinks in my hot liquid hungrily. His tongue lashes and soothes, dips and swirls. I try to force my hips not to move, but before long, I ride his face and give him every last drop I have to offer.

"Valerian," I moan into the bedding. My release is on the edge. "I need to come. Please. Oh, yes!" I should feel shame and one hundred shades of embarrassment but all I can feel is the stubble along his chin and the flick of his tongue against my virgin pussy.

Suddenly I'm flipped over and the weight of his body presses into me. I wrap my legs around his middle. Fire flashes between us. The heat of his body turns into an all-consuming wave and drowns us both with the need to have one another. I know it and so does he.

I wrap my fingers in the lapels of his shirt and pull the sides open. Glorious muscle comes into view instantly. I run my hands over his body. There is an endless amount of more scars littering his chest and abs. I reach around him and pull the kingpin in closer. The same scars on the side of his face are on his back, too.

His lips devour mine, and we get lost in the taste of each other for several long moments. The arrogance I've brushed up against tonight is gone. His weight, the very presence of his body against mine, and the way his arms come around me all work in tandem against my better judgment. I don't fully understand everything I feel right now.

Of all things, he makes me feel…safe.

I reach between us and undo his zipper. The hiss he lets out when my fingers find the engorged length of his cock sends a flush of heat through me.

He tucks his head into the curve of my shoulder. His breathing is heavy, like everything I do to him is pushing all the right buttons and he's about to lose that control he mentioned a moment ago.

"Ah, Bella. What are you doing to me?" His words are slightly muffled, but I have no problem hearing them.

"Do we have to have the answers right now?" My question slips from my lips as a whispered plea.

He groans a delicious sound that has my body spilling more wet heat.

"No, little rose. No, we do not." His tone is tortured, but his touch is gentle when he runs his fingers through my hair.

I stroke his length from the thick base all the way to the fat, swollen head. Wetness spills out from the tip. I'll be the first one to admit I don't have all the experience in the world when it comes to pleasuring a man. I take my cues from his groans. The biggest one comes when I stroke my thumb over the slit of his cock. His arms tighten around me, and his teeth dig into the flesh of my neck. I buck against him. Come morning I'll have a mark there.

"Bella, my little rose. Your touch makes me weak." He presses his forehead against mine. Our heavy breathing mingles.

I slide my panties farther out of the way and then push his pants down his legs. My heart beats wildly as I guide his cock to my entrance. I want this. I don't understand why. Maybe I don't need to.

The throb of his heavy cock against my bare folds is unmistakable. I let out a shuddering breath. "I shouldn't want you. I should fight you tooth and nail after what happened tonight. But I want you." I place my palms on either side of his face, and he looks at me like reality is taking over. "I'm on the pill. We don't have to worry."

He eases off me and slowly fixes his clothing. He doesn't bother tucking in his shirt, or buttoning it for that matter. It hangs open, and I get a teasing glimpse of what I almost had.

"What? What's wrong?"

He lets out a long sigh and I physically see reality push the hunger out of his expression. A shadowed pain fills the depths of his pretty blue eyes, and a wall snaps back into place.

"What is going on?"

Something that looks a lot like fear and reason flash over his handsome expression. "This shouldn't happen."

Those three words place a chunk of ice on my chest again. There is a finality in his tone like something snapped on or off in his head and I'm no longer what he wants.

"Did I say or do something wrong, De La Rosa?" I mentally scramble for a reason for him suddenly rejecting me.

Using his surname doesn't get the beastly kind of reaction I am after. Instead, he stands at the foot of the bed and considers me for a long moment. The longer his body heat is away from mine, the more reality sets in. I drag my dress down and cover my exposed body as quickly as I can.

Shame washes over me. The heat in my cheeks is no longer from the need to have this man ruin me in every way possible. I cast my eyes across the room and look out at the full moon rather than watch him lose interest in me. "Maybe you should leave."

He pulls me to him and takes me against his chest. "I can't ruin you. Never let me touch you again." With that, he pushes me onto the bed and walks away.

Giving me his back, the kingpin shoves his hands into his pockets. "You don't belong here. I'll have you taken somewhere else. Mabel will take your measurements as well and gather new clothes for you. You will lack nothing, but you and I will hardly see each other again, if at all."

Chills spill down my spine. I swallow back the tears of rejection. No one likes to be told they don't belong and treated like they are not worthy. I should look at this as a blessing, but the sting hurts all too much for me to lie to myself.

I debate going to him, but I don't think I could handle him pushing me away for a second time.

"I'd like to go back to school in London. I have a year left of my schooling. I want to finish it."

"No. You would be too far away from me."

His snarled answer cuts deep.

"If you don't want me here, let me go."

His tone is deathly cold when he speaks next. "You either see our deal through or I collect your father for payment on his debt for me. Believe me, Bella, when I say he won't get such a lavish room to stay in if I'm forced to go that way."

My swirling emotions make it hard to think past my knee-jerk reaction of wanting to slap this man. "So what now? Do I go work in one of your sex clubs? Or do you want me to strip for one of your pole dancing clubs?"

He grabs the handle of the door and opens it. "If you need anything, Mabel is in her room near the kitchen. It gets quiet out here and dark. Very dark."

I have a feeling he's not talking about the lack of light.

"Aren't you across the hallway?"

"It's better you don't look for me, Bella. Don't trust me in the darkness."

I know for certain if I go to him in the middle of the night, there will be no stopping our next encounter. "I'm not afraid of the dark, Beast. There are far more dangerous things to fear."

"Me? Is that what you are implying? I might look like a monster, but I am not one. Until you betray me. And then I am your worst nightmare. I think you learned as much tonight."

His words serve as a smack across the face, killing off the last bit of hunger I harbored for him. "Thank you for reminding me why I'm here. Am I a prisoner? Or can I come and go as I please?"

"You are not a prisoner inside this home or the connected grounds. There are only two rules you must follow. Remember, you made a deal with me. I suggest you don't break it."

I rise to my knees in the middle of the bed. "So, yes. I am your prisoner. What are your rules?"

"You cannot leave these grounds unless I am with you."

"And?"

De La Rosa goes to the window. Silver light reflects off domed glass in the far distance. "Stay out of the atrium at the far end of the property."

He probably has bodies buried in there or torture devices he doesn't want me to see.

"I'm not the monster you think I am. Obey me and you will find your life can be pleasant here."

"For how long?"

"Till death do us part."

With that, he stalks out, closing the door behind him.

My heart breaks into a million pieces. I fall over and want to let the tears out, but they don't come. As I fall asleep, his last words cling to my thoughts.

Till death do us part.