Poisoned Heart (Twisted Mafia Vows #1)

Chapter 1

Dalton

“You will fuck me like your life depends on it. Because it does.”

The blue eyes of Corvus Van der Horn watch me through the bars of my prison, cold as the fancy little knife he’s known to gut people with. When he approached the cell, I steeled myself, ready to be dragged out and tortured for information about money I don’t have.

I didn’t expect whatever this is, but after two days in a cold and damp cell, I’ll pay attention even to a delusion.

His words make no sense. Is this a test?

A way to see how I’d react to an offer so outrageous?

Or is he mocking me? Maybe this is simply a fever dream my delirious mind has come up with to avoid the grim reality of my situation.

I was taken from my truck by three armed men, drugged, and then I woke up on the bare floor of a tiny room without windows.

Considering the amount of money I owe the Van der Horns, the only possible outcome is death, so being kept alive is somehow more terrifying. But it’s not like I can bleed out a million dollars. If only I got another chance at the card table…

But instead of an opportunity to wipe the debt I’ve accumulated, I’m facing a beautiful monster who’s toying with me like a cat with a mouse already caught in a trap.

I can’t see a single wrinkle on his handsome face.

For him to become a professional torturer for a crime syndicate in his twenties…

I don’t want to know what kind of shit must be going on in his brain.

“W-what?” I choke out from my cold damp corner. “I’m… I’m not even gay,” I lie, because this could be a test leading to customized types of torture I don’t want to ponder. I’ve heard the stories about Corvus Van der Horn, and I’d rather not find myself at the pointy end of his knives.

A strand of jet-black hair falls onto the man’s forehead, and he brushes it back into place in the tidy slicked-back do. I’ve seen him a couple of times when he visited the club I worked at as a bouncer, or at the casino where I found my ultimate downfall.

Among his many cousins and family members, he stands out the way a black hole does among stars.

If death wore a suit, it would look exactly like the one before me.

A bejeweled cross adorns his silk tie and I don’t know if it’s to signify that he’s religious, or to remind people that if they fuck with him they’ll meet their maker.

He’s handsome. Very fuckable. I’m begrudgingly fascinated by the sharpness of his eyes.

He’s a challenge I would have never dared take on if I wasn’t being invited.

But right now he’s not just a good-looking man I get to ogle. No, he is here as the infamous torturer skilled enough to make a mother give up her own child.

I’m damp with sweat.

The cell’s the size of a double bed. Claustrophobic. There’s no room to hide, and I’m sick of its stale air. I need sunlight, I need freedom, and I’ll do anything to get it.

The lamp in the corridor casts a tawny glow that barely reaches past the bars, but when he moves, his shadow swallows me whole, and I’m plunged into darkness. Its touch makes my skin prickle.

The silence following my response twists my gut. I’m no small guy. I can fight. I like fighting. I could take him on in a fair match. Probably. But I’m on the back foot here. Every muscle in my body tenses, alert and useless at the same time.

When Corvus steps closer, the odor of dust and sweat seems to part before him and I get to smell him.

The scent he carries is faint but sharp, expensive soap with something darker under it, and it’s making my pulse jack up.

I don’t know what kind of hellhole I’ve stumbled into, and yet part of me wants to lean closer and see what makes a man like him tick.

He’s very still, and his blue eyes remain focused on me as if Corvus expects to will me into revealing a secret stash that might just cover my debts.

“I don’t care about your identity. What I want is sex, not dates,” he snaps, kicking the bars so violently the cell thrums with their dull clang.

I’m no coward, but I still flinch. “The fuck? You’re barking up the wrong tree,” I insist, but hesitation slips in at the end, because…

if this isn’t a test, I’d definitely want to.

Fuck him, that is. Or even enjoy a little cuddle, make out, slide my tongue between those pretty lips…

though maybe in different circumstances.

Corvus’s broad chest sinks with a deep exhale, and I smell the tobacco and cloves on his warm breath.

His posture stiffens, and for a moment he seems half an inch taller, but instead of walking off, unhappy that I didn’t bend under pressure, he dives his hand into his pocket, and pulls out a smartphone.

I only realize the depth of the shit I’m in when the screen turns on, revealing the monster truck on my wallpaper.

“Not even a PIN number? Really?” he asks in exasperation, as if he’s disappointed with the ease with which he accessed all my secrets.

I’m fucked. So royally fucked. If I were any more unlucky, a Grindr notification would ping just about now, but I hope we’re miles away from the nearest Wi-Fi hotspot.

I exhale as my fingers twitch in a helpless need for a cigarette I’m not getting any time soon.

My brain can’t compute this bullshit. Is he toying with me, or…

actually wants to fuck? Could that really be my way out of here?

To be fair, I am lucky to have been blessed with a handsome face and a big dick, and this would be far from the first time someone has wanted to use and discard me.

“Um… was gonna set one up. At some point.” Like I have to explain myself to the bastard.

A raspy laugh escapes Corvus’s throat, and as he turns my phone in his hand, the cool glow of the screen sharpens the angular lines of his elongated features and makes him seem as pale as a vampire.

“Not even a fingerprint lock. What are you doing with your life? Did you want one of us to find your folder of naked selfies?”

I flush. Is he looking at them now? Assessing my tats? My muscles? Appreciating the size of my dick?

When his gaze darts up to meet mine, I feel a stab of desire that definitely shouldn’t be present in my current situation. This is the Van der Horn torturer. Ruthless as a crocodile and just as passionate as one, unless—

I rub my nape and stand up from my blanket in the corner. Is he into me? Is that it? Messed up, but okay. “Maybe. Did you have a look?” I raise my eyebrows as my heartbeat quickens. I’m so out of my fucking depth.

He cocks his head, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. If I weren’t behind bars, I’d have called it sexy, but in this situation it’s quite menacing.

Corvus looks down at the screen and reads, “I’m gonna call you Jack, because that D is like a jackhammer.

” My neck heats up when I realize he’s been through my Grindr messages.

This is… embarrassing, but he keeps reading.

“I know we’re incompatible, D, but could we keep meeting up for some fun?

” and another, “I think I’m pregnant. You need to come over tonight, to talk custody. Or maybe make it a twin.”

I groan and crack my neck, looking away in discomfort. There are a lot of messages on there. I’m not exactly ashamed of fucking around, but for someone to read any of that out loud? Or read them at all for that matter?

“It’s not…” I drift off because I don’t know what I’m trying to defend here. Wasn’t it him who said he wanted to fuck?

“It’s not what? There is a lot of begging in those DMs. Curious. Are you really that special?”

I dare to take another step toward the bars. My thoughts are a jumble I’m unable to tidy up, but one pulses with red light. Corvus Van der Horn is gay. Or at least curious. “That’s what you want to find out?”

He swallows, hooded eyes looking dreamy for a moment instead of razor-sharp. “Were you told why you’re here? Why you’re still alive?”

Quite the change of topic, I admit, but I’ll go with it for now.

“Not really…”

Corvus scoffs and steps back until he’s leaning against the wall across from my cell, arms crossed. “You, and a few others who made the mistake of crossing my family, will be let out of here tomorrow, and hunted for sport.”

I’d laugh if I didn’t believe it. Sounds like just the kind of outrageous fucked-up shit the Van der Horns would do.

I swallow and grip the bars. “But you… like me? So you’ll save me?

I’ll work my fucking ass off to pay back the money I owe.

I promise. And we can do… whatever you want to,” I add, still shellshocked by his interest in me.

I’m a good fuck, but not that special, I don’t think.

Corvus snorts. “No, I’m not going to save you. But I can ensure that you have a chance of survival by neutralizing the capsule of poison inside you.”

A flash of cold passes down my body. “The what?”

“Then all you have to do is hide or run really fast,” Corvus continues.

“If you manage to evade the hunters pursuing you, you might just get to start a new life somewhere. I suggest abroad,” he adds, pulling away from the wall with the grace of a stallion in his prime.

“The other poor souls will die from poison even if they evade the hunt, so I’d consider this quite a generous offer. ”

“It’s fucked-up,” I choke out, staring at him. “Are you saying you poisoned me?” I don’t even know where to start on how twisted this is.

Corvus polishes his nails on the hem of his fine black suit jacket. “That’s a matter of semantics, isn’t it? Was it me? Was it the person who asked me to do it? In any case, I am the only one who knows how to administer the antidote.”

So casually cruel.

I have to take a deep breath before I once more look up into those cold, calculating eyes. “And what do you want?”

“As I said before. Fuck me like your life depends on it, and I’ll give you the antidote. You kill me, you’ll die anyway, even if you manage to escape, which you wouldn’t.”