Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

" O rganized crime constitutes nothing less than a guerilla war against society."

—Lyndon B. Johnson

Raphaella

There was no real reason for the quote to slide into my mind, but it did immediately after Aleksander had issued a statement of dominance. The quote was something I'd heard in history lessons years before. It was also a phrase my father had joked about in private with his most trusted men. I remember retorting something back to him, even daring to laugh.

The one thing you didn't do was laugh at my father.

Aleksander had licked me. My God in heaven. He'd stripped away another moment of my innocence.

And I'd loved every second of it, acting like some wanton hussy by shoving my pussy into his face. I wasn't easy and had never been, but I'd managed to find a way to let myself go.

I continued pushing up from the counter with one hand while I touched my face with the other. I'd forgotten all about the fact my thoughtlessness had resulted in my father cracking his backhand across my cheek.

In front of his men. I'd tried to forget about the humiliating moment, but I should have realized then my father was an evil man.

Pleasure continued to roll through me even as Aleksander detailed the fact he was going to spank me. To keep me in line? To assert his authority over me? Was this all about molding me into his submissive wife?

I couldn't react any more than I had before, fighting anger and hatred for the entire world. I knew I'd tempted fate with him, teasing him to the point few men could tolerate my actions. I'd been a fool to think he wouldn't respond this way.

While my pussy still throbbed much like my core, I continued to try to remind myself the deal made with my father had been signed in blood. Sounds drew me from my hypnotic state, bringing back fear and anger at the same time.

When he ripped open one of his kitchen drawers, I finally let out a moan. He was finding a goddamn implement to spank me with. Was he kidding me?

"No. Don't," I said so meekly I wasn't certain who this woman was at all.

"You can't have it both ways, Raphaella. You can't expect me to alter my ways of doing business because you're not happy. I will do everything in my power to give you a happy life, but you will be punished when you behave this way." When he found a wooden implement that I didn't recognize, I was ready to beg him not to do this.

Was I really about to tell him I'd be a good little girl?

I couldn't believe or understand my reaction to him. Yes, I knew the score in the world I'd been born into. I'd been a fool to think I could escape my destiny but for so long. My father had done nothing more than indulge me.

Being stunned was also unlike me but as he brought down the wooden piece, I couldn't move or yell out. Granted, I wasn't certain what it would accomplish other than releasing frustration. Still, the thought of being forced to experience this with a man I didn't even know was…

Unnerving.

Exciting.

Rage releasing.

Yet even as he cracked the implement from one side of my bottom to the other, the pain was more comforting than anything. How was that possible?

Finally, the discomfort turned into something else altogether, forcing me to drive my palms into the countertop. Where it had been the backdrop of something evocative before, it would be impossible to come back to this kitchen without images of this horrible moment popping into my mind.

He was gleeful with what he was doing. I could feel it, the air full of his testosterone. The hard crack of his wrist was as startling as every time he brought down the wooden piece. For a few insane seconds, I was trying to process what kind of implement he was using.

"I have two main goals here, princess. One is keeping you safe. The other is keeping this city safe."

"You really think this battle would destroy the city, if we're not married?" I threw my head over my shoulder, incredulous he thought so highly of himself. Well, Vadim thought highly of himself as well, which was nothing different than how my father had acted for as long as I could remember. While the mischievous side of me wanted to spout off most powerful men had itty-bitty dicks, I knew better.

"Without a doubt."

I'd dared stroke him twice, marveling at how huge he was.

But the ugliness of what I'd been from the day I was born won out over the pleasure or the pain.

I was nothing but a pawn.

Just an expensive asset my father had been forced to pay money on.

A pretty little doll to dress up while I matured.

Dance lessons.

Piano lessons.

Even some aspects of female etiquette.

I'd been such a fucking fool.

I closed my eyes as the spanking continued, doing my best not to sob like a baby. That wouldn't do me any good. Although the release was something I needed desperately. My bottom was already heating up, the slow processing of what he was doing starting to kick into higher gear.

Everything about the word princess disgusted me, including the way my future husband issued the two syllables. But it was time to face the music.

That's exactly what I was doing.

As Aleksander brushed the tips of his fingers down the crack of my ass, slowly caressing my already aching skin, the conflict continued deep inside of me. The man radiated power and sexual prowess, but I had to fight the connection I'd felt from day one. Could I manage to somehow get away from him? Even if I did, where would I go and with what money?

I doubted my bank account had survived, my father telling me more than once he was responsible for everything about me. I'd misunderstood what that had meant.

The truth was he was just training me to realize he owned me and soon enough, the highest paying golden pathway to gaining more power would assume the role.

It was unlike me not to fight like a hellion, but I was drained. I was sad. He peppered my bottom, acting as if he was playing a musical instrument. The analogy was silly, but the drumming on of the slight thudding sound reminded me of a metronome. There was no way of knowing how long the round of discipline continued. I was lost in a haze, the ringing in my ears picking up in volume.

What continued to confuse me was the fact my pussy was still throbbing. I wanted to convince myself it was from his repulsive yet blissful act of feasting on me, but I knew better. My anger was ripe, my nerves frayed but the attraction remained.

He tossed the spoon away a few seconds later, exhaling in a ragged sound. Meanwhile, I couldn't move, even pressing my face into the cool granite.

As he backed away, he patted my bottom like I had been a good girl. It was surreal, too much so. This wasn't how a relationship was supposed to go.

When he placed his hands on either side of me, I bristled more out of anger than anything else. "I don't want our time spent together to be like this."

"What do you want?" Stop whispering. Stop. He's a man. Not a god.

His sigh continued. "An equal partnership."

Now it was easy to burst out laughing. "You expect me to believe that?"

"What I expect is that you'll work with me, improving what we have while not fighting me every step of the way. Now, slide into your jeans. Allow me to show you to your room. However, keep in mind what I said earlier. The space is temporary."

As I inhaled deeply, the scent of citrus and leather caught me off guard. The breath seized in my lungs. I'd just lost all my freedoms, every single one. Poof. They were gone.

I was numb as I pushed back from the island, still marveling in how beautiful it was. It was true that everything had been turned upside down.

My actions were perfunctory as I jerked my jeans into my hands. Now I was more embarrassed than before, fighting the heated blush as hard as I was the rage. I honestly had no clue how I managed to slide into them other than pure adrenaline. But it was tough to button and zip. At least he was allowing me some space. I wasn't certain how long that would last.

"Why can't I stay in my apartment?" I asked when I turned around.

"I thought I explained that well enough. Because the danger will only increase every day. You need to remember that includes risking your roommates."

"And my brother and sister?"

He appeared almost as if he cared. What a crock. "That's your father's responsibility, but if you're questioning whether I'll ensure your brother isn't sent to the front lines, I will. That is a promise I can make to you."

"My brother is a boy. He's not like us."

He brushed my hair from my face. "I'm not sure what that means other than he's a true baby soul."

"You understand."

"Yeah, I do. Now, let's get you settled. We'll have dinner and talk."

Talk. Did he really think I believed him that we'd be talking? Or maybe he didn't understand that when I shut down, I pushed aside almost everything.

"I don't have clothes. Please, allow me to return to my apartment. I swear to God I won't try anything. I will do nothing more than grab a few of my things. You can be there or send whatever thugs you'd like."

He thought about my request but looked away. "Fine, Raphaella. I will take you there but if you act badly in any way, I will be forced to place a lock on the outside of your bedroom door. Is that clear?"

"Yes. I'm not trying to give you trouble. I get what's going on."

The stern look on his face was almost paralyzing. "Then I'll trust you. Don't betray that trust, Raphaella. It's not given easily and usually not a second time. I would hate for our entire relationship to be based on lies and misunderstandings, princess."

"I got it." The man was like a wolf, predatory in every action. "Please don't call me princess. I'm not who you think I am."

"Then prove it."

His challenging three words added another level of irritation. I'd need to show him how capable I really was.

Aleksander

The mental image of her bucking until she was able to drive my tongue deeper inside her tight pussy lingered.

The woman was the most infuriating I'd ever met. Obsessive anger swept through me like a firestorm. Every impulse I had screamed to push her down onto her knees, shoving my cock into her pert mouth. Hell, I wanted nothing more than to paint her with my cum, staining every inch of her so others would know she was mine.

Telling her to prove she wasn't a princess was like giving her carte blanche to act like a spoiled child or worse. It was as if I was giving permission to try to become that equal I'd mentioned.

In my mind, I'd let my guard down with this woman. This girl. It continued to unnerve me that it had taken almost nothing to do so. Maybe she was a black widow in disguise.

I stood in my office, waiting for the two men assigned years before to maintain security to walk in. For all the years I'd acted as if I didn't need bodyguards, refusing to allow a single man to tag along with me, I was well aware of what I'd told her. The danger was real.

The two sets of footsteps indicated their arrival.

I'd left the door unlocked only long enough for them to enter of their own accord. All our behaviors would need to change, security tightened. The two men had been tasked already to have additional soldiers placed around the estate. Why did this feel like a noose was tightening around my neck?

"Mr. Semenov," Ivan said first.

The two men were Russians, born and raised in this country. They were well trained and considered dangerous and extremely loyal. When they weren't working with the regime, they were bouncers at a club Vadim owned. They were even roommates. Russians were closer knit than people understood.

I turned in their direction, trying to plan the next few days. "It's not public knowledge yet but I've agreed to take an Italian bride."

Kristoff glanced at his buddy. "So the rumors are true."

"The street?" I asked.

Ivan snorted. "Don't forget information in the world of the Russian empire travels fast."

"And the rest of the world?" I tipped my head from one man to the other.

They were uncertain where their duties with me were going. That much was easy to tell.

"We're still checking but early word isn't good including surrounding the Irish." At least I could count on Ivan being frank. He was a tough man, his actions coming from a place of revenge. His entire family had been lost to a fire, and no one believed it was an accident.

Both Vadim and I knew it had been a moment of retaliation from the Irish leader for teaching the man a lesson in humility and playing fair in the sandbox.

The scars Ivan bore were a stark reminder that caring for anyone wasn't in my best interest. Yet I cared about the girl very much, already more than I should.

I nodded and moved closer. "We're embarking on new territory, gentlemen. I'll be handling more business for Vadim and backing away from my law firm for the time being. Do I anticipate the alliance will cause issues? Absolutely. I don't think even Vadim realizes how hated the Cosa Nostra is. To that end, I need you to boost security at the house. State of the art. Whatever you need."

I had a limited security system, passable in a usual house but at this point, it would be easy for an enemy to bypass.

"We'll take care of it, sir," Kristoff told me.

"Before you get the project started, the two of you are going to shadow me as we head to Ms. Bernardi's apartment to collect some of her things."

Ivan jerked back his jacket, exposing his shoulder holster. "We're always prepared."

I chuckled, nodding to both. "I'll be ready to go shortly. Incidentally, you're both going to help bring a sculpting wheel back to the house." I had no idea what it was called. Pottery was something I'd admired very little, preferring more colorful art.

"I think you mean a potter's lathe," Ivan suggested.

"You know your art."

His face clouded over. "My sister was taking classes. It was her favorite thing to do."

"I didn't mean to bring up your tragedy."

Ivan sucked in his breath. "In this business, one would be a fool not to expect everything you care about to be taken from you."

He looked at me as if in a warning. "I don't plan on allowing that to happen."

"We'll be outside waiting. Take your time," Kristoff said in return.

"Will do." I waited until they'd left, taking a few minutes to check my emails. I'd stay through the trial but would need to talk with my partner. It was obvious to me trouble was still brewing. And I wouldn't put it past Luciano to be egging it on, disturbing the peace of the criminal underground.

I sorted through the various emails, deciding there was nothing that couldn't wait. It was a risky proposition with the already growing unrest to allow her to return to her apartment, even under my care. But she deserved that at least.

Still, I had to hope my decision to bring her into my life hadn't been too impetuous. I felt the need to rip off my tie and jacket. There was no sense in being as formal as usual. At least not for what we were about to do.

I wanted this to go quickly. Getting her back here unharmed was my main objective. As I headed up the stairs, I touched the weapon in my holster. She would need to get used to seeing me with it. With a single knock on the door, I let myself in.

The sight of her sitting in the chair by the window forced me to suck in my breath. The soft press of her body from before lingered, the taste of her staining my tongue. Her behavior indicated she'd managed to distance herself, the way her head had been placed against her outstretched hand an indication she was trying to shut down.

She didn't bother looking in my direction, doing little more than staring outside the window. I sensed she felt as if she'd been tossed into a prison system. In a way she had been. At this point, I needed to remain disciplined enough not to pitch her against the wall, fucking her like the savage I'd become earlier. I hadn't lied to her about the word ‘trust,' but it went both ways.

It had to.

"It's time to go."

"Are you going to take my phone from me permanently?" She slowly turned her head, the defeated look on her face not what I'd hoped for. It wasn't about crushing her spirit, simply providing assistance to help her comprehend the rules to their fullest.

"You will have various privileges restored but the phone will be different, the network different. I don't want your father attempting to break into your phone or the Irish for that matter. The man is a pig."

"Which one?" she asked as she rose to her feet.

"Both. However, your father I can handle. The Irish mob is another animal entirely. You're going to meet two of my men who will be your constant shadows." As I moved closer, I gazed at her beautiful, upturned face.

In response, she backed away. "I thought you were my bodyguard."

"I will be. However, I need to finish the court case we were working on."

"You're not going to allow me back in the office. Are you?"

I'd thought about what I was going to do. "Tomorrow you will come with me to the office and to court. After that, we're going to take it a day at a time. Understood?"

Her utterly defiant gaze created a stronger reaction than before. I wanted to thump down on the bed, rip down her jeans, and give her a spanking she'd never forget.

But that had already been done.

She needed time to reflect.

Maybe I did too.

There was a vague look in her eyes, but she nodded. Either she was resigned to learning to behave or she was planning an escape.

"Just don't break my rule, princess. You won't like me very much if you do."

"Who says I like you now?"

Touché.

Oil and water.

But it would be enjoyable attempting to bridge the metaphorical gap between us. She slowly allowed her angry gaze to fall to the weapon I was carrying and I'd be damned if she didn't offer a private yet knowing smile.

Yes, it would be delicious to shove aside all the sins I'd be committing by taming her. Only then could we learn to trust each other.

If one of us didn't end up dead first.