Conquered: A Dark Mafia Romance, page 7
“Ms. Adams, I’d like a word with you before you go.”
His voice was even deeper than two nights before, huskier in a way that forced hundreds of butterflies into my stomach. I could pretend I hadn’t heard him but somehow, I had a bad feeling he’d seek to discipline me again if I did.
I moved toward his desk, still managing to hold my head high. “Yes, Mr. Saint?”
He studied me for almost a full thirty seconds, the quiet drifting between us keeping my knees knocking. I’d always wondered if that was such a thing.
Yes, it was.
“I’m looking forward to reading your story, Ms. Adams. You have a darkness inside of you that I covet.”
Was he talking about the passion that had erupted between us or my writing? I couldn’t be certain. “Thank you. I do enjoy creating worlds where evil has a stronghold on society.”
Another ten seconds passed by, but he finally smiled, a knowing expression that kept me on edge. “Yes, I believe you. As I said, I’m very eager to read your piece.”
“Thank you.” That was it? I wasn’t certain what I was expecting. A date? An apology? I could tell I was getting neither.
When he handed me the portfolio I’d brought with me and left at his house, I sucked in my breath, having forgotten all about it.
“Ms. Adams. I’ve read over your resume and while limited in scope, it would appear your credentials with writing are very impressive. Why do you want to work for me?”
He was asking me that now? Seriously? Should I even consider the job at this point or would I be making a bigger fool of myself? I’d originally had a glorious answer prepared for him, but why not tell him what I could do for him instead of what he could do for my career? “Because I’m an excellent researcher, capable of navigating my way through any and every website with ease. I’m extremely good at putting together an outline or simply adding thoughts to help a writer’s creative endeavor. Plus, as you already mentioned, I have an affinity for the darkness, which is what it would appear you plan on writing about.”
I offered him a rather haughty look, refusing to blink as we stared at each other. A slight sound allowed me to realize he was twirling a Montblanc pen on his desk, tapping one end then the other, obviously weighing his decision.
When he rose to his feet, I took a step backwards, biting back a single moan. His aftershave was exactly the same as before, which instantly made me lightheaded. He seemed amused that I was having difficulty.
Oh, I should hate the man and would if I didn’t find him so damn attractive.
I was itching all over, fearful I’d broken out in hives, something I’d done as a kid when I was extremely nervous.
“Ms. Adams, my expectations and needs are very high, including living on site, working side by side for very long hours with little time off. For that, I will pay you ten thousand dollars a month plus room and board, a bonus if the book is completed in time. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”
Thirty thousand dollars for doing what I loved. That would be an incredible jumpstart to my career, whatever that turned out to be. Or maybe I could live cheaply for a little while so I could finish my first novel. I was almost giddy, jumping up and down like some stupid schoolgirl until I reminded myself what had occurred between us.
“I’ll have my own room, privacy, a bathroom?”
His stare hardened until he seemed amused. “Yes, Ms. Adams. In fact, you will have your own floor all to yourself including a media room. You aren’t being kept prisoner although I do expect your full attention and professionalism at all times.”
The flutter of butterflies had turned into a swarm of bees, but it was an offer I couldn’t turn down. Even if the nagging inside the back of my mind screamed I was about to get myself into the middle of something I could regret.
No risk. No reward.
And it was time to take life by the balls and make it what I wanted. I doubted another opportunity like this would come about any time soon, if ever.
I stuck out my arm for a friendly handshake. He lowered his gaze to my hand before accepting. The moment we touched, just like what happened before, a wild jolt of electricity shot through me, as if his touch was going to sear my skin.
“Does that mean you accept?” he asked, his voice far too sensual.
“Yes, sir, I do.” As soon as I offered him the word of respect just like he’d required the other night, every part of me drifted into a fog.
“Good girl.”
The haze remained as I walked out, nearly stumbling out of the building into the bright, sunny day. When Josie bounded closer, I tried my best to keep a fake smile.
“Okay, so this job you mentioned,” she started.
“I was just hired.”
“What?” She looked at Taylor who had her eyes opened wide. “Do you know what’s been said about him, all kidding about his good looks aside?”
“You mean that he’s dangerous?” I refused to stop walking, trying to get some distance between me and the window he could look out of.
“Yeah, but there’s more,” Taylor half whispered.
“What do you mean more? I know his family is powerful.”
Josie stopped me by touching my arm. “Yeah, very powerful and influential. Trust me, my daddy told me all about it. I heard he and his two brothers used to participate in hunts on their father’s estate.”
“You mean like lions, tigers, and bears?” I teased. Her father was a man few messed with, someone of power and influence himself in the world of law enforcement. However, I also knew the guy believed his shit didn’t stink.
“Try humans. Their father’s enemies and evidently, the brutal man had a lot of them. They say if you step foot on the land at night, you can hear their souls begging for help and absolution from the fires of hell.”
The girl was overly dramatic but now she was pushing every boundary. “I hope you put that ghost story into your words for the exam this morning.”
She raked her hand through her hair as Taylor laughed, obviously not believing our friend. “Yes, I actually did.”
“Is this a true story?” I asked more out of curiosity than anything. I had to get my car fixed, the rest of my things packed before I could start my new job.
“Supposedly; my father told me.”
I took a deep breath, wondering if I could find anything on the internet like what she’d described. “And what happened to their father, or do I want to know?”
Taylor piped in this time. “From what I heard, the boys made their abusive father go on a final hunt himself where they tracked him down, killed and dismembered him. He’s buried on the property.”
For a few seconds I almost believed her until both of them started to laugh. “You’re terrible. Both of you. It’s a great job and I’m looking forward to what I can learn.”
“Evidently, so is the sexy professor,” Josie purred.
“Meaning what and how would you know?”
She nodded over my shoulder and I slowly turned my head. With the glint of the sun, the shimmer highlighted his figure in the window.
He was staring right at me.
Planning.
Hungering.
Needing.
Suddenly, I felt like his prey.
CHAPTER 8
“He painted over her scars with every color he could find until she lost them in the setting sun.”
—Atticus
Easton
There was no way to adequately describe the feelings I had when reading Sara’s story. I’d watched her during the exam, her body language so fluid, so expressive that the devil inside of me had wanted to strip her naked right there in the middle of class, spreading her legs wide open and tasting her sweet nectar. At one point, it had taken every ounce of self-control not to do so.
My attraction had been to her beauty and innocence.
Or so I’d believed.
Until I’d sat down that night, reading her story three times and each time, my cock had become harder, my balls tightening. There must have been a news report on the man I’d murdered, although I hadn’t seen it. She’d taken the opportunity to get into the mind of the killer just as I’d hoped, but her spin had been as if from a point of view where she’d been there on the scene.
Or as if she’d experienced something more personal over the years.
Holding a dark secret.
After reading the vastly creative and graphic story the third time, my beliefs had forced me to take another look at her previous work, including some short exercises and poems I’d required the students to write. I’d been certain at the time she simply had an affinity to Edgar Allan Poe, but now, I wasn’t convinced.
I wanted nothing more than to delve into her background, to learn every detail about her precious life.
The thought of deflowering her by introducing her to every scrap of my world, my needs, and my deep-seated desires kept me on edge and salivating the entire night. I’d barely gotten any sleep, finding it difficult to get through all the other drudgery the students had written. The only other story of interest was the daring one written by what appeared to be a good friend of my sinful assistant.
Josie Barker.
The girl Marcus was pining away for. How odd she’d selected a hunt done by her serial killer as the background. That was no coincidence.
So many of the students attending the university had at least one famous parent. That had afforded them the tuition, none of the girls and boys forced to take out a loan. It had amused me from the beginning since most acted entitled.
It was that sort of thing that turned children into criminals.
I smirked at the thought as I sped through town on my way to a corporate meeting. What troubled me about Josie’s piece wasn’t necessarily the subject material, our father’s former hunts, but the descriptions she’d used. As if she’d been there. Or perhaps someone she knew given her age. With her father being a senator and a former police chief, a man close with several prosecutors, it was entirely possible the man had been on the right side of the law, someone my father hadn’t managed to pay off or threaten into silence.
Josie had even alluded to the abuse suffered by myself and my two brothers. No one knew about that. Except for a single person. I’d made the mistake of telling a teacher something when I was very young.
I’d gotten the beating of my life after my father had found out. The teacher had suffered worse, dying in a tragic accident. But it had been ruled accidental nonetheless.
A horrible murder committed by one of my father’s goons.
I’d lost what had been left of my innocence and belief in the greater good that day. From that moment on, I’d shifted into a much darker place, one even my brothers didn’t know about. I’d become fascinated with death, not acting on my strange and perverse desires for many years to come, but I’d spent hours researching everything from the use of a knife to commit a crime to blood splatters, the effects of everyday poisons, and of course the use of guns in various scenarios. That’s one reason I not only had a collection of weapons that would rival any soldier, but also dozens of books on the subject of death.
Sighing, I made the last turn heading for the parking garage. I didn’t like that Josie had selected the story as her last hurrah. Either she’d been acting alone in her efforts to taunt me, or her father had put her up to it since our father’s disappearance had never been solved.
And it was highly doubtful it would ever be.
Not that anyone missed him, including his own children.
My thoughts drifted to the night of the last hunt my father had participated in. All three of his children had been gleeful in the decision we’d made collectively, painting our bodies with war paint like any good primal beast would do. We’d screamed our joy as we’d raced after him in the woods, cornering him more than once.
Our father had still been very strong, able to fight us off for longer than most of his victims. Which had in turn allowed us to inflict more harm on his aging body. My brothers had believed me, horrified at what had occurred, the younger baby brother needing to be protected. Little did they know I’d internalized the event, indulging in even darker fantasies, building my layered desires to kill again.
And again.
I’d perfected my methods, starting out slowly with little verve to the murder, but over time I’d become more creative. I’d also worked very hard not to have a label placed on me, but some smart detective had picked up on the fact I’d only killed those who’d attempted to or had abused a woman.
Hence the Angel of Death moniker.
After I’d heard it the first time, I’d smiled and reveled in it. Why not? I wasn’t entirely a bad man. Removing scum from the earth had its place in the world. I had a feeling the women involved would thank me, one after the other.
As I moved to my usual private parking space, my thoughts returned to the oh-so lovely Sara. Little did she know what she’d committed herself to, but her desire to obtain the job had also swayed me.
She was more like me than she was ready to admit. I could only imagine the joy of hunting down a perpetrator together. It would be the most glorious day of my life.
A smile had crossed my face, my decision to hire her the best one I’d made in a very long time, but she’d made it easy. As I climbed out, I scanned the parking lot as I always did when arriving at our corporate offices. Whether or not people believed our family consisted of nothing but bad seeds, devils disguised in Armani and Gucci suits, the fact we were one of the wealthiest companies in the world kept a target on our backs.
Given I refused to have soldiers protecting me on a daily basis, I knew I could be the first one taken out by a hired assassin. That only added to the excitement.
I did enjoy taking risks.
Grabbing my briefcase, I headed to the private elevator, which eliminated all those hoping to talk to me about getting a job with the company or even hoping to be considered for my next arm candy. All three of us had been listed as the most eligible bachelors in the city.
Until my two brothers had caved into the idea of love, getting themselves hitched. I liked the women they’d each determined was the one. I even enjoyed their company when necessary, but my idea of a partner had nothing to do with watching movies and making babies. I’d leave that to them.
As I stood in the steel box, I hated the fact my one true weakness had always been claustrophobia. There were reasons why, including my father’s particular method of punishing me. We’d learned the hard way never to show a single fear around our dad. He only exploited it to his benefit. Sighing, I did my best with the breathing exercises I’d taught myself but a single bead of sweat still slipped down my cheek.
Fuck it.
I’d won the battle of no longer fearing tight spaces.
Or at least I liked to tell myself.
The truth was I couldn’t stand them.
That’s why I would never be dragged to prison. I’d prefer to end my own life instead.
As the ping hit my ears, the smile returned. I had three days before a new life began with someone of great interest.
And my cock was aching all over again.
For her.
The woman with the same demonic mind as mine.
I was laughing by the time I entered our company’s main door, certainly not needing to be announced. I was a board member, a stockholder, the CFO, and the man who’d parlayed our fortune into lucrative investments in real estate, art, movie production, and other wise purchases that had kept us in estates, yachts, sports cars, and every other toy bad boys enjoyed.
As I moved down the lengthy hallway, several of the employees watched me. I was the brother who spent the least amount of time in the office, although I had a posh and well-equipped space, an assistant of my own. Still, I was lucky I could handle the financials from the creature comforts of my private space, which I much preferred. Being a loner had its perks.
“Mr. Saint. I need your signatures on a few contracts,” Misty said. My beloved employee kept me informed with every need, while having learned early on what not to bother me with. She was a godsend, her intelligence keeping me on track.
“Then let’s do it.” She trailed behind me as I headed to my office first, laying out the three separate stacks of paper. “What do we have here?”
“An estate purchase in Bali. The weapons contract you were anticipating for the Italians and a new addition to the arts facility your brothers cultivated.”
My brothers were both art lovers, one with piano and violin, the other with dance. The expansive arts facility for underprivileged students had taken off over the last year, becoming one of Chicago’s most talked about facilities. I’d been to two of the swank parties, hobnobbing with the city’s most powerful and influential people.
And I’d been bored to death.
However, as with any family, there were obligations to follow, brotherly love to be shown in the media. Our reputation had soared over the last few months. Awards had been given to our selfless love of the arts.
If only the people knew that we were monsters in disguise they would run far away, praying we wouldn’t hunt them. Another laugh pushed up from my throat. I signed off on the two contracts easily, glancing at the three photographs of the property in Bali. “What in God’s name do we need this for?”
“Creed merely said it was for family vacations.”
Right. It was another location to consider dumping bodies given the ocean was right there on the doorstep. Perhaps I could find the location useful in my determination to finish a book in a short period of time. I could certainly see my prized possession in a bikini.
After signing all three contracts, I noticed the two non-family board members heading into the meeting. I handed Misty the signed contracts, shaking my head. The two members had been selected on purpose. While they’d had some dealings with our father over the years, neither could fully embrace the often precarious position they were in by holding thirty percent of the stock in our firm.
