Chapter 38

38

Karma

"What do you think?" I turn toward him. "I am leaving you."

"Not having much success, are you?" He prowls over to me, pauses on the ramp near the motorboat which has begun to drift away from the ramp. "Come back to me," he orders. "Now."

"No." I shake my head, "No, I will not."

"And you?" He glares at Luca. "I trusted you," his jaw hardens, "my brother, my second in command... The man I believed in all these years."

"Excuse me while I play the violin for your woes." Luca laughs.

"Who got to you, Luca?" Michael tilts his head, "This is not you. This bitter, cynical man, who is betraying me... This is not the brother I know."

"You don't know me very well then, do you?" Luca's lips turn down in a sad smile, "You only ever saw what you wanted; you always believed that you knew what was best for all of us."

"What are you talking about?" Michael frowns, "My entire life, to date, has been devoted to protecting all of you."

"If only that were true," Luca says in a low voice, "and you accuse Nonna of turning a blind eye when he beat up mother."

Michael stiffens, "What are you talking about?" He leans forward on the balls of his feet, "What did he do to you, Luca? Tell me what happened."

"Don't worry about it, fratellone ," Luca's lips twist. "You just worry about how you're going to explain how you let your wife run away from you."

Michael's shoulders stiffen. The skin around his eyes tightens. He glares at Luca a second longer, seems about to say something, then changes his mind.

"Why are you doing this?" He widens his stance, "Turn back, and I'll forget any of this happened."

"I think not." Luca's lips curve, "Not when I am enjoying the sight of the powerful Capo, reduced to begging his woman to stay. If you're not able to keep her, how are you going to take charge as the Don? Clearly, you are not fit to succeed him."

"So that's what this is about? Power?" Michael folds his fingers into fists at his side.

"When is it not about power?" Luca chuckles, then glances toward me. "Oh, I forgot, you think yourself in love, don't you? You think she is the woman who came to redeem you? Too bad, she doesn't feel the same way."

I stiffen, wanting to tell him to shut the hell up, but I don't. He's wrong, though. Michael isn't in love with me. All he wants is to possess me, own me, use me, then discard me. But I'm not going to correct him. Not when he's doing a damn good job of keeping Michael occupied while we wait to re-start the goddamn engine again.

"I would have done anything for you, my brother." Michael lowers his chin, "I would have given up anything for you."

"So, if I had asked you to hand over the title of Capo to me, would you have done so?"

Michael stiffens. A nerve pops at his temple, but he stays silent.

"Thought not," Luca murmurs. "Don't kid yourself, fratellone. All these years, you've kept me close just to keep track of my movements." Luca, shakes his head, "No brother, if I had told you how I truly felt, if I'd even breathed a word of the fact that I wanted to be Capo, you'd have killed me?—"

"Or not," Michael folds his arms across his chest, "and now we'll never know. Either way," he nods toward me, "let her go. She isn't part of whatever power games you want to indulge in."

"I beg to differ," Luca smirks. He wraps his arm around me and I shoot him a confused glance. What the hell is he up to? And after he told me that he's not interested in me in that way.

On the ramp, I sense Michael tense. "Get the fuck away from her," he says in a voice so hard, so cold, that a shudder runs down my spine. My thighs clench and my belly flutters. Shit, I should not find his anger such a turn on. I should not find the possessiveness that laces his voice so damn sexy. I should not allow myself to turn to him, fix my gaze on his as I lean into Luca and murmur, "I don't want you, Michael. I want him."

Michael's nostrils flare.

Next to me, Luca's muscles bunch. But he must understand that I am playing along with him, for he hauls me closer. "You heard her." I can hear the smirk in his voice as he addresses Michael over my head, "She's not with you anymore."

"She's. My. Wife." Michael's voice whips through the space. The pores on my skin pop. My toes curl. Oh, my god. Michael Byron Domenico Sovrano in a rage…is, surely, one of the most erotic spectacles I have ever seen. It's definitely one of the scariest.

Why the hell does everything about this man turn me on…even as I am trying my best to leave him? I squeeze my thighs together, lift up my chin, "Your wife?" I snarl. "Is that what you call kidnapping me and forcing me to marry you?"

"It's what I call what happened over the last 24 hours between you and me," he snaps and my heart stutters. It bloody stutters. I draw in a breath and Luca's grasp about my shoulder tightens.

I try to pull away from him and he whispers, "Don't let him get to you. Remember, you're doing this because you want to escape him."

I stiffen, then firm my lips. "What happened between us was a mistake." I look Michael up and down, "If you think, for one second, you fooled me by what you did, you're wrong. I hate you." I swallow, "I loathe what you did to me, and if I had the chance, I'd turn back the clock and ensure I was never in the park where you first encountered me."

He pales, then sets his jaw. "We'll talk about that later," he says in a tone that is so soft that there is no mistaking the menace that laces it. Jesus H Christ, I've done it. He's so bloody pissed at me, that the moment we are alone next he is going to… Fuck me? Spank me? Both of the above, and maybe not in that order.

I gulp, even as wetness laces my core. Oh, my god, what's wrong with me that, even now, I can't get rid of the images that crowd my mind? Of him cramming his dick inside me, his touch on my skin, his scent in my nostrils, the heat of his gaze as he takes in my features, as he glares at Luca's arm about my shoulders.

"Take your hands off of her or?—"

"Or what?" Luca smirks, "From where I am, there's not much you can do."

Michael's jaw tics. He squeezes his massive hands into fists at his sides, then takes a step forward. Luca tries the ignition again. The engine fires up, the boat leaps forward, then the engine dies down.

"Fuck," he swears, takes his arm off of me, then begins to play with the buttons on the dashboard.

"Couldn't you have thought of this before?" I hiss.

"It's a last-ditch resort." He bends, pulls out a panel, then yanks at some wires.

There's a flash of movement to the side. I turn, then scream when Michael dives into the water. He swims toward us and panic squeezes my chest. Shit, shit, shit. I need to do something about this, but what?

If he reaches the boat, if he gets on, no way, can we escape. Worse, if he gets his hands on me again… If he takes me captive again… He'll never forgive me. He'll make me regret trying to escape him. And you'll love every minute of it. No. I shake my head…

It's this addiction to him that got me into this situation, in the first place. It's because I couldn't stay away from him, that I let my guard down enough to, perhaps, even trust him, that I may now be pregnant with his child and… No … If that's the case, I definitely need to get away from him. He reaches the boat, grabs the edge and the craft rocks. I scream again, grab the back of the seat to steady myself. I need to do something, anything, but what?

"The oars," Luca jerks his chin to a corner of the boat. "Grab an oar and fight him off."

"No," I cry, "I don't want to hurt him."

"If you don't, he'll hurt you," he retorts. "You don't want that, do you?"

Do I? How can I tell him that I like it when Michael puts his hands on me? How it turns me on when he treats me like his plaything. How… I lose sight of everything when he's near me.

Oh, my god, I have no choice. I am going to have to do this. If I let him near me again… I am never escaping him… And my child… If I am pregnant, he or she will never know a normal life.

I scramble around the seat, totter toward the end of the boat, where one end of the oar pops out from under the cover of the tarpaulin.

Michael grabs the edge of the boat, begins to haul himself over the side. That's when I spring forward. I grab the oar and raise it. My muscles scream in protest. The oar is heavy enough that my knees almost give way under me. I manage to find my balance, and the oar slips from my hands. The edge slams into the side of his head. I tighten my hold on it, pull back as his gaze widens. Those blue irises flare with... Surprise… No, something else… Hate? No… Love? Not possible. It's lust. It has to be lust. And maybe possession. And anger that I've beat him at his own game.

Blood blooms at his temple and I fight the urge to run to his side and help him. He bares his teeth, swings one leg over the side and I scream. I bring the oar down on him again, just as the boat's engine roars to life. Michael's gaze holds mine. A beat, another. Then his grip loosens, and he falls back into the water. The oar falls from my fingers and hits the bottom of the boat.

I lean over the side, scan the surface of the water, then scream when he surfaces. He thrusts out an arm, and I reach for his hand, only the boat leaps forward as Luca shifts into gear. My fingers brush his, then he's gone, under the water. The wake of the boat fills the space where he'd been.

"No," I scream, "No, no, no."

Turn the page to find out what happens next in Mafia Queen