Chapter 11
Kane
This woman is going to be the death of me.
What the hell was I thinking?
The entire reason I’ve avoided any type of commitment is because I know how it ends.
Women are like witches, casting their spells on the men around them and forcing them to ruin their lives.
I love my mom, but I watched what loving her did to my dad, and I told myself I wouldn’t make the same mistakes he’d made.
Yet, here I am, forcing Brielle Antonova to marry me simply because her cunt tasted delicious and felt amazing, wrapped around my cock.
Since I’m still on the street Brielle lives on, I turn around and go back to the house, demanding to speak to Dominick. He’s controlling enough to keep tabs on his sister.
“She giving you a hard time?” He smirks when I ask him to locate her. “It’s not too late to change your mind. The contract has been drawn up for the waterfront expansion.”
When I don’t respond, he simply chuckles. “Sorry, but if she doesn’t want you to know where she is, that’s between you two.”
“She’s drunk at a bar somewhere. I understand your priority is your wife and kids, but who’s making Brielle a priority? And before you try to sell me on that waste of a guard, who’s wrapped around her finger, I doubt he’s doing anything to protect her.”
Dominick’s jaw clenches, and he pulls out his phone. “She’s at The Tavern.”
I thank him and turn to leave when Dominick calls my name.
“It’s not that I don’t make Brielle a priority,” he says. “Matteo and I spent years trying to protect her. But we failed her.”
I turn back around to look at him and can see the guilt written all over his features.
“This life … it broke her, and I don’t think she’ll ever be the same.”
She’s sitting at the bar with her friend Nicole and the guy I heard over the phone. She’s got a bottle of tequila in front of her, and she’s pouring another shot.
The guy says something to her, and her entire face lights up. She throws her head back in a laugh, exposing her slim throat, and the guy eyes her, no doubt imagining what it would be like to spend the night with her.
And I don’t blame him. Brielle is every man’s fantasy. Blonde hair and blue eyes. A smile that lights up the fucking dark. She’s got luscious tits, a toned waist, an ass that is perfect for fucking, and legs for goddamn days. But that’s only on the surface.
Men in our world want a woman like her on their arm. But they couldn’t handle her. The first word out of her mouth would have them shutting her down. It’s why she gravitated toward Theodore DeSantis. Rather than standing up to her, he gave in.
But that’s not what she needs.
She needs boundaries.
She craves control because she feels out of control.
Dominick thinks she’s broken, but he’s wrong.
She’s just a little fucking bent.
She turns to look at her friend, and she must see me in her peripheral vision because her back goes straight and her head whips around, her eyes meeting mine.
“You can go now.” I dismiss the guy, who’s now looking at me as well when I grab the purse hanging on the back of Brielle’s chair.
“What? I—”
“Walk away,” I warn the guy.
“Fuck you, bro. I found her first. She’s mine.”
He reaches for Brielle, but before he can touch her, I shove him off the chair and against the wall, hooking his arm behind his back. He screams out in pain, begging me to let him go.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” I tell him as I push his face into the drywall. “She isn’t yours. She was never yours, and she’ll never be yours.”
I shove his arm up, and he screams louder. A little more, and I’ll dislocate his shoulder.
“Is this what you wanted?” I bark at Brielle, who’s staring at me with wide eyes. “You wanted to use this man to get under my skin? To prove that you’re in control?”
“Kane, stop, please,” she begs.
“You did this,” I bark. “You risked his life—and for what?” I smash his face into the wall harder. “To make me jealous? We both know this man couldn’t satisfy you.”
I shove him toward Daniil, who has walked over to join the party. “Get him out of here. And then take Nicole home. And, Daniil … if you allow this shit to happen again, you’ll be looking for another job.”
“You can’t do that!” Brielle shouts, stalking toward me.
“I can, and I’d bet your brothers would agree if they knew the shit he’s been letting you pull.” I grab her face in my hand and look into her eyes. “His job is to protect you, and he either does so or he’s gone.”
She swallows thickly.
“You want control in the bedroom,” I murmur so only she can hear.
“You can have it. You wanna fuck me, suck me, do whatever the hell you want to me. But I’m not going to let you run around this goddamn town, acting like a fucking whore because you need attention.
You want attention, baby? You have mine. ”
“Fuck you!” she sneers.
“Not tonight, Princess. You’re drunk.”
She shoves away from me, and since I’ve had enough of her shit, I lean down and haul her over my shoulder, ensuring nobody can see her ass as I walk out of the bar with her kicking and screaming.
When we get to my car, I set her in the passenger seat and buckle her in and then take off toward my house. The design team finally finished it, and I moved my stuff in this week—leaving room for my future wife, of course.
Speaking of which …
I glance at Brielle, and she’s already passed out, her head lolled slightly forward. The plan was for her to move in once we were married, but after tonight, the timeline is going to be moved up.
The house I purchased is in a new development in North Harbor Point, not too far from her brother Dominick’s house.
It’s a modern two-story home with a pool and Jacuzzi and an in-law suite I hope I can convince my mom to move into once I know for certain her life isn’t being threatened.
The home is backed up to the Atlantic with a privacy fence and a bridge that takes you right onto the beach.
I pull into one of the six parking bays, and Brielle doesn’t move. I don’t know how much she drank, but she’s passed the fuck out.
I lift her into my arms—this time bridal-style—and carry her up the stairs to our room.
I remove her heels and undress her, carefully putting one of my shirts on her.
Once she’s under the sheets, I grab her phone from her purse, use her face to open it, and set it to where she’s sharing her location with me.
I consider going through her texts, but don’t do it. Brielle is full of secrets, but when her brother refused to share them with me, I realized that I wanted her to tell me all of them. And she will—once she trusts me enough to do so.
I find an extra charger and plug in her phone. Then I grab a bottled water and a couple of pain relievers for when she wakes up and set them next to her phone on the nightstand.
After brushing my teeth and stripping down to my boxers, I climb into bed. For several minutes, I watch her chest rise and fall, wondering what the hell I’m doing. My focus is supposed to be on the business. She’s the one thing I need to stay away from, yet I’m drawn to her like an addict to meth.
And like any addict, instead of pushing her away, I lean in and drag my nose down her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, knowing this isn’t going to end well, but still choosing the high she gives me.