Chapter Eighteen | Axel
Alexander fucking Romano . That’s who her father is, that’s the reason my mother is so hard up to get me married to her so quickly. I wonder if they knew who her father was before they gave me her information. Did they set me up? Am I just another fucking pawn in their games? Up until now I knew where I stood with my family, I was the youngest sibling, the one who could do no wrong, but after I took the fall for Kenan and killed Gabriel in prison, I knew things were going to be different. I had never actually killed someone until him. I was always the one who created the games, enjoyed the torture. Then after I killed him, it was one name after another. How I didn’t get caught in prison killing four different men is beyond my knowledge, and when I would ask, Mom would just tell me not to worry.
Cordelia throws something at me, catching my attention and my head snaps to her. “What the fuck?”
“You went all dopey eyed and wouldn’t answer me.” She shrugs and makes a face at me. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere, I’m still here.”
“Not what I mean fathead.” I watch as she drops into one of her black colored chairs and crosses her legs in the seat. Why does she have a comfy chair down here, it’s all surgically clean except that weird chair.
I shift in the metal chair and look at her, “Why do you have that chair in here?” I point to the one she’s sitting on. “It doesn’t match anything down here.”
“Being comfy doesn’t have to match.” She looks down at her nails, “Now, back to the reason you were staring off into space. What kind of shit have you pulled me into?”
“Me? Your entire family is so far into this shit that I’m having trouble keeping up with what’s actually happening.”
“That must be a first.”
“What?” I ask her, not understanding her meaning.
“Not being able to see the full board, you love games, and knowing what's happening and when it’ll happen. You like to predict what the person will do and you get some sort of fucking high off being right. So, therefore not knowing what’s going on must be driving you insane.”
She’s not wrong, my head feels like it’s spinning. Cordelia Lilith Crawford changed her last name, did she change it all? “Did you change your full name or just the last name?” I decided to ask.
“Just my last name. I wanted nothing to do with the Romano’s especially after they started dropping dead and were kicked out of their family home.” She cocks a brow at me.
“Do you know what happened?” I ask her.
“Nope, I was never told.”
“They put a hit out on my aunt, and some other bad shit happened after. There was a truce and an agreement in place and they broke it. My mother doesn’t believe in second changes, well not anymore. Once you fuck the family over, you forfeit the right to your life in her eyes.”
“You said not anymore, so she used to believe in second chances?”
“If not, my father wouldn't be with her. She gave them all a second chance, or seven over the years. But if it’s outside of our tight knit family, then you only get the one chance. Lincoln’s dad used to be the president of a motorcycle club, she had given him a second chance and he went over to the East Coast and fucked with some other clubs business. Pissed a lot of people off and when that other club wanted blood, she let them have it. Completely wiped out Lincoln’s dad’s crew, they’ve got a new crew now, but that was the end of that era.”
“Wait, your family has connections to MC clubs on the East Coast?” She leans back in her chair.
“We have connections everywhere. There’s a law firm in Chicago we use often, we have our hands in big pharma, drug cartel, weapons trade, and more. We have deals with different chapters of certain MC clubs to help run everything, for a cut of course.”
“Ha!” she laughs, “The Romano’s were just a simple stock of bad guys who thought the city would bow to them.”
“We tried to keep them under our wings, but their egos got the better of them when someone wanted my mom and they tried to get to her through her sister. The Jokers helped after some bad blood, then Mom gave them a second chance and they fucked up again. So when I tell you she no longer gives people a second chance, I’m telling you she’s learned her lesson. You get one chance and if you fuck that up, you get a bullet to the head and dropped in the Missouri River.”
“The Missouri River?”
“The water travels fast, it’s deep and usually full of shit, flows into the Mississippi and down to the Gulf. The Missouri River starts all the way up by Canada somewhere, so if a body is ever found, there’s no telling where it came from. And not to mention if they find the body, it's usually too hard to get any kind of identification from it.”
“Brutal.”
“Less brutal than chopping them up into soupy bits and flushing them down the drain?”
“Fair.” She nods.
We sit there in silence for a minute and I watch as she plays with the collar I gave her. I wonder if she knows the significance of having a collar placed on her? There are a few things her and I are going to have to get on the same page about if we’re going to move on with this shitstorm we’ve found ourselves in. My mother will make sure one of two things happen with Cordelia, she’s either going to agree to be mine, or she’ll be used to get to her grandfather. OR both, against her will. She’ll become mine and be used. Which I can’t let happen.
I’m going to have to figure out a way to find him without using her, there’s no way my family will be allowed to use her once she’s officially mine, especially if she does it of her own free will.
“Tell me what you know about the Dom/Sub lifestyle?”
“Like BDSM?” She shifts in her chair.
“Not exactly, just the relationship between Dom and his Sub.” I lean forward putting my elbows on my knees and fold my hands together.
“Your lack of commitment to one conversation at a time is a little concerning.”
“Answer the fucking question.” I pop my neck, trying to keep myself in check, because this needs to be a serious conversation and fucking her into submission isn’t going to be the answer right now.
“Nothing really. I’m always a one night stand kind of girl, ya know.” She puffs her cheeks out with air and then slowly breathes it out.
“Okay. So a Dom would be the one who takes care of his Sub, in all ways. They provide security that the sub is looking for. Be that from someone or from themselves. A Dom also provides emotional support for the Sub.”
She laughs, then clears her throat. “Sorry, you said your empathy was lacking, so emotional support seems like a weird thing for you to say.”
I grunt as she rambles on and put a hand up stopping her from talking more. “Anyway. The Dom provides anything and everything they can for their Sub.”
“Sexually?” She cocks a brow.
“Yes. But not all Dom and Sub relationships are sexual. Sometimes it’s platonic, but usually sex is involved.”
“So, are you a Dom then?” She drops her feet to the floor and mimics my sitting stance.
“I would like to be your Dom, Cordelia.”
“So I’d have to submit to you for everything?”
“No. You’re still your own person, I’d just be here for you, and you’d submit to me in both public and behind closed doors. If I feel like you’re slipping or going too far, then I will pull you back.”
“This seems like there’d be a lot of trust I’d have to give you.”
“And vice versa, you would learn intimate details about me. We would have to be completely open books, no lying, no hiding, everything out in the open.”
“I seem to remember something about bratty behavior in some conversations I’ve heard before.”
“Oh, you can absolutely brat all you want, but if I warn you and you continue, then you’d be punished.”
“How so?”
“We’d discuss options beforehand, have a contract put together, which can be altered together down the road. Such as hard no’s and limits, punishments and pleasurements.”
“Pleasurements?” She asks, perking up a bit.
“Pleasurable punishments.”
“Ah, instead of just punishments.” She shakes her shoulders. “Why are you asking me all of these things?”
“The collar you wear, that was me marking you as mine.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Yet you haven’t complained about it once, so I thought maybe you didn’t know what it meant.”
“I just knew that you were letting others know I was yours.”
“Right and if you’re mine, then you belong to no one else. Only I get to decide what happens to you.”
“Who else would decide that?”
“My mother.”
“You make it out like she’s some fucking psychopath who would just use me-”
“To get to your grandfather. Yes, she would if it meant getting the one guy who has slipped through her fingers for years.”
“So you’re telling me that if I don’t marry you, then I could be used as bait.”
“No, I'm telling you that if we don’t make it completely irrevocably known, then you will in fact be used as bait.”
“Really nice family you have there Axel.” She pushes up out of the chair. “I’m so sick of people doing things for me without caring about how I’d like it or how I’d feel about it. You know, just for once I want someone to ask me permission.”
“I am now.” I stand up, closing the gap between us.
“No, you're giving me an ultimatum.”
“I am not.”
“You are, you just can’t see it. You’re telling me that no matter what I choose, my life as I know it is completely over. I will no longer be just me.”
“I-uh?”
“Either I submit to you, or I turn myself over to your mother. Well fuck you and your mom. I don’t want any of this bullshit. I just want to dance, carefree on stage, and maybe kill a guy or two here and there.”
I scrub my hands over my face. “You don’t get to just leave here and never look back little deer. You are mine, I will find you and drag you back kicking and screaming.” I spin her to face me, “I’m not letting you go, and I’m asking you to let me fucking take care of you so no one else will hurt you.” After hearing what Clayton did to her, I will murder whoever I have to, to make sure she never feels like she did under him. He never gave her a choice.
“You’ve hurt me Axel. You did the same thing he did. You took me without asking, you literally almost killed me and trapped me in some sort of fun house for your own entertainment.” She smacks my face so hard and I lean back and look down at her. “You took my choices away the second you looked at me that night. You knew I’d come over to see you, you knew I’d challenge you. You fucking knew. All because you love being right at predicting what someone will do.”
“I knew you’d be mine the second I saw you walk out on that stage.” I grab her face, pinching her cheeks, forcing her to look up at me. “And when I want something, nothing will get in my way of having it.”
I press my lips to her and even though she’s fought me nearly every step of the way, I know she wants this, wants me. When I break the kiss, she looks up at me with sad eyes. “I don’t want to want this.” She whispers, basically echoing my thoughts.
“Then stop fighting it and just be mine.” I backed her up against the wall, my hand moving to her throat. She doesn’t take her eyes off mine and as we stare at each other, I see that wall break in her eyes. “There it is.” I say, flicking my eyes between hers. “Submit and I’ll never let anyone ever fucking touch you again.” It’s the only promise I know I can keep, because I can’t promise her life will be easy, neither one of us can promise something so simple. Our lives are messy and covered in blood. I want my little deer painted in red with blue lips, gasping my name for the rest of my fucking life.
“Okay.” She breathes.