CHAPTER FIFTEEN

brAXTON

D espite Frank's threat , I was let through the gates and am now flying down the road in Barrett's black Ferrari. I let the top down, breathe in the air, and allow myself a moment to take in everything that's just taken place.

I'm making a deal with the devil.

A fake deal.

One that is going to impact a lot of people.

Including Gianna.

I might be undercover and playing a role, but the dynamics between her and me are real. Our chemistry. Her feelings. Hell, even my feelings. Even if I don't want to feel anything for the woman I am using, the fact is I do.

Yet, I'm irritated by her not showing a single ounce of interest in my fake shipment that I lost.

Does she even fucking care they could be humans?

I know what my family is involved with. I'm not stupid.

I constantly remind myself she is the daughter of Frank Baldassare. This is just a normal day for her. Drugs, weapons, diamonds, women, and children. Her family will do whatever it takes to make money illegally and a lot of it.

She is well aware of what they are doing.

What the hell does that say about me having feelings for a person like her? Despite being born into this world and having no choice. Perhaps it's some chemical reaction to really good quality fucking.

I told her I owned her pussy.

These possessive words seem to fall out of me when I'm with her.

Going bareback by accident—?twice, goddamn it—?means I'm just protecting my health.

Liar.

God, I'm full of fucking shit.

Gianna, you little seductress, you are getting under my skin and becoming a huge distraction.

Yet I need her.

Now I know she is promised to someone, so at least there will be no pressure on me to marry her. Which is irrelevant because once I find Amy I'll be gone from this fucked-up world.

What if she is pregnant?

Fuck.

They'd never be able to find me. I would never know.

I stare out the window and imagine the scenario, running a hand over my face.

Jesus. Why couldn't I have snapped on the condom both damn times and used my brain? Huh. I almost laugh. My brain is the one thing that is barely present when I have Gianna's body in my arms.

Speaking of, I need to get focused back on the entire reason I am here. Not Gianna.

Like I'm thinking of getting that tattooed on the inside of my eyelids.

Or on my cock. Maybe the pain might remind me.

"Dial Mack." I say to my phone.

" Dialing Mack Cunningham ," the digital voice replies.

"Well, you're still alive. Well done." The Dark King finally answers.

I smile and slow for an intersection, then turn.

"I met Frank and Dante Baldassare and Salvatore last night."

"Dante. Interesting. I'll get a full brief from you when you have time. I sense an urgency in your voice. What's up?"

I update him on the proposal the don put to me this morning and what we need to pull it off.

"Shit. Okay. I'll send you some international numbers in ten minutes. Dial them, let the call sit for about ten minutes each in case they track your phone," Mack says.

"Got it."

"I'll ring Scott in the meantime and get some information on European syndicates and known traffickers," Mack adds.

I pull into a parking lot near a picturesque lake. If I'm being followed, it will just look like I've parked to make some private phone calls.

Which is exactly what I'm doing.

"I've told them I'm keeping my contacts private." I share. "Hopefully that is something they'll respect.

"Don't assume shit. If they press a gun to your noggin, you want to have something to keep you alive," Mack says as he taps away at a keyboard.

Whether he's creating the numbers or getting one of his team to do it, I don't know. From what I've seen, these guys have a huge number of resources behind them.

I mean, they have a link to the feds along with Connor Barrett's funds. That opens a lot of doors and provides leading-edge technologies.

The US government is not behind the times in any sense of the word, but a billionaire is going to have a lot more toys.

I glance down at the Ferrari badge on the steering wheel and smile.

"Right." I rub my forehead, imagining Salvatore lining up to it. "Fuck man. Have I thought this through?"

He goes quiet.

"Probably not, but we understand why you're doing it. Ask yourself if you could live with yourself if you didn't? I already know the answer."

I lean my elbow on the door and shake my head.

He's right.

I couldn't just head home and hope the authorities find Amy or lie to myself that she's already dead. Or fine. She's not.

If she is still alive, then I have to find her.

I have to fucking try.

There is no other option.

"I've kept two undercover Marines alive for over six years, Brax. I'm not going to let you die. Give me ten minutes and I'll get you these numbers." Mack says with such confidence and conviction it fills my chest with a feeling only someone who has been part of a team like this could understand.

Support.

That simple word has so much meaning. It's nicely packaged up but includes loyalty, people you can rely on, commitment, a brotherhood.

That's what I have here.

Not just physically, but each of them has shared words to let me know they understand the emotional toll I'm under.

"When I get eyes on the cargo—fuck, I mean on Amy—what do I do?" I ask and listen as he draws in a long, deep breath.

It tells me two things; one, that it's a long shot. Two, that if I do things are ramped up to operation level: serious.

Nerves dance inside as I wait for his reply.

"How certain are you they're taking you right to the source?"

"I've told them I have to check out the merchandise," I reply. "So, unless they're setting me up and taking me to the river to dump my body, I'd say pretty certain."

My poor mother.

If she knew what I was doing.

This is far more dangerous than anything I did in the Marine Corps.

I may have backup, but being undercover is a whole other beast.

"Fuck. Okay," Mack says. "We'll prepare to do an extraction. If Amy is there, we'll get her out and back home."

My anxiety skyrockets as I realize how close I am.

Any soldier who says they don't get scared is bullshitting you. Fear is healthy and keeps you alert and alive.

Or it can cripple you.

"Take it one step at a time. If you can't communicate while you're there, then we can put an operation together to go back in. Most important thing is making sure Amy doesn't see you. And don't react."

Fucking hell.

The thought of seeing her and having to walk away totally messes with my mind. This is Amy. My buttercup. The nickname is old, and she hates it now, but god fucking damn it. How the hell am I going to stay quiet?

To save her damn life.

That's how.

"Okay." I grit my teeth.

"No one said this would be easy, Braxton, but you have my respect for doing what most men wouldn't do." Mack lets his words hang heavily in the space between us.

They are meaningful and I appreciate it.

I won't be able to tell anyone what we've done here. Not my parents, not my brothers. No one. I'm not doing it for bragging rights, but it's nice to take a moment and be acknowledged for my courage.

I'm going to need a lot of it.

"Wipe my text after it comes through." Mack tells me next.

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it. All of it."

"As Connor says, this is what we do. You've got this, Brax. Bring Amy home."

When he hangs up, I sit staring out across the water and wait for his text message. I think about Amy and what she might be going through. I think about her fucked-up mother, my aunt Tracey, and how she's responsible for a lot of this.

I think about all the things I could've done to stop it from getting to this point and how angry I am that Amy didn't tell me what was going on.

I wonder how she got pulled off the streets.

The research I did into human trafficking was terrifying. It's not just big bad mafia running these schemes. Nearly thirty million people are currently in modern day slavery, taken by what look like normal, everyday men and women.

In every country in the world.

Human slavery and trafficking are the second largest criminal industries in the world, worth over 250 billion dollars.

US dollars.

I wonder again if Gianna truly knows what her family is involved with or if she's na?ve. And if she cares or feels, she has no choice. Then, over and over, I question how I can have sex with a woman and enjoy it. I believe she supports such a despicable world.

When I'm alone with her, I feel obsessed with her. Like I need to consume and own all of her.

Command her.

Dominate her.

Watching Gianna fall to her knees and open her pink lips as my cock slides inside brings out the caveman in me. I want to grip her long, dark hair and yank her head back, hurting her. As only I'm allowed to do.

Jesus what is wrong with me?

I've never wanted to hurt a woman before. Yet the thought of seeing her blood running down her skin from my bite makes me hard as fuck.

This world is messing with my mind.

I need to get these calls made, return to the Baldassare estate, and fuck Gianna until she screams.

With a fucking condom this time.

––––––––

A LMOST TWO HOURS later , I pull up to the gates and I'm immediately let through.

"The don is held up with some urgent business. He said to make yourself comfortable." Salvadore tells me as he greets me at the door.

"No problem. Anything I need to be concerned about?" I ask almost arrogantly, playing the part.

Concern fills me. Any delays could be a threat to our deal or my life.

"Just mafia business. Everything is on track," Salvadore says then nods to Dante, who walks through the lobby looking like someone just killed his cat.

"Boss wants you," Dante says, and Salvatore glances my way quickly before the two men walk away.

I study Dante as his tall solid frame departs and wonder what sort of don he will make one day. I can't get a read on him. He's a master at not giving away his emotions or thoughts.

Dangerous.

Movement to my left catches my eye, and I turn to see Gianna walking down the sweeping staircase.

She moves with grace, and I'm frozen on the spot as I watch her. Gone is the barely there bikini from earlier. Now she's dressed in a tight red skirt, black heels, and a black shirt which is unbuttoned to show the curve of her generous supple breasts.

I walk toward her, stopping at the bottom of the steps, then take her hips and lift her, sliding her down my body as I press my lips to hers.

"I missed you," she says, holding my shoulders.

"Let's do something about that," I rasp, taking her hand to pull her upstairs.

The moment the door to her room clicks behind her, I yank her back to me and push her against the wall and slam my mouth on hers.

"Gianna," I growl desperately. Like a fucking animal.

"Brax," she gasps.

I rip open her shirt, buttons flying everywhere, and her hungry eyes look ecstatic with my less than subtle moves. I yank her bra down and lower my head, sucking her nipple hard.

"Oh yes," she cries.

I do the same with the other one as I shove her skirt up over her ass.

"Fuck," I growl as I find her without panties on.

"Please. Please fuck me," Gianna cries, then her body jolts as my fingers shove roughly inside her.

"Mine." I plunge them in and out of her as I growl and snarl at her hungrily. When I pull them out and slide them into my mouth, my eyes close, and I savor her molten whisky tasting juices.

"Brax. I need your cock."

I release her as she begs me and step back, stripping and watching as Gianna climbs onto her bed. Following, I kneel beside her, then lift her head. "Open. Suck me."

I watch eagerly as my cock slides inside her hot, red- stained lips and let out a guttural sounding groan as she sucks beautifully.

"Yes, baby."

In and out she works me, my cock leaking precum. I have to fight not to come down her throat right there and then.

Condom. Remember the fucking condom.

Thank god.

Before I orgasm and end all the fun now, I pull out. "On your knees, baby." I slap Gianna's ass as she flips and get a rubber.

"Touch yourself," I demand.

Gianna reaches between her legs and begins to circle her clit. I smile as her naughty eyes taunt me.

She's playing with me, and I like it. But right now, I want complete possession of her. We can play later.

With a rip of the foil, I snap it on and then position myself behind her on the bed.

"God, I've never wanted a cock so bad in my life." She moans as I take her ass in my hands, spreading her cheeks and then lining up at her entrance.

I've never needed a pussy so badly, but I'm not telling her that.

"Head down." I growl, then thrust in hard and fast.

Gianna cries out as I fight to not fall in love with her sweet pussy as she surrounds my thick member with her wet heat.

But damn it, I do.

It's liquid heaven.

"Gia," I moan. "Fuck."

It's not enough. It's never enough. I want her closer. I need to feel more of her.

Reaching, I pull her up and wrap my arms around her, cupping her breasts, licking her neck, taking her mouth as my hips slap against her body.

"More." She begs. "Harder."

Christ.

I push us farther up the bed and slam her against the wall. Me behind her.

"I'll fuck you harder," I growl. "I'll fuck every goddamn inch of you. Over and goddamn over until I've consumed you."

What am I saying?

Fire threads its way down my spine and into my balls as our bodies ignite from this scorching chemistry.

"Come with me." I demand of her, my fingers finding her clit and rubbing vigorously. "Gianna. Come around my cock. Now."

My demand is a roar as I slip over the cliff.

"Brax!" she cries, and I hope the entire mansion can hear the pleasure in her voice.

We collapse on the bed, and I pull her into my arms after yanking off the condom and wrapping it in tissue.

Gianna lifts her face, and I kiss her as if she is the love of my life, not the best fuck of my life. Our kiss is full of emotion, which has no place in this undercover operation.

This fake relationship.

For this woman who belongs in a world of evil and corruption.

Yet, I don't know how to lie to myself when emotions are roaring through me like a hurricane and every cell in my body feels that letting her go is the wrong damn thing to do.

"We're good at that," Gianna purrs as she runs her fingers over my tattooed chest.

Mine.

Not damn mine.

Evil mafia princess.

Get it right, brain.

"Hmm," I say, running my hand along the curve of her ass, relishing how soft her skin is.

"I'm glad you stayed," she says softly.

"So am I," I answer, then catch myself.

Those words were full of truth. Said by Braxton Ashford.

Not Braxton Rossi.

I am fucking glad I stayed, and she's lying in my arms after I just fucked her hard and with complete and utter dominance. Staking a claim I cannot voice or acknowledge.

I shouldn't be. But I am.

And I'm not proud.

Not at all.