Chapter 6 Kingston
KINGSTON
A bullet to the heart would have been cleaner than this damn sham marriage.
We’re silent in the back of the blacked-out Escalade. Three more trucks follow behind us, one in front. My father sent his top security guards with us while the rest of his men and O’Callaghan’s security detail combed the venue, looking for the whereabouts of a fucking sniper.
How the hell could he have just disappeared into thin air, like a goddamn ghost?
Livvie presses herself against the door, as far away from me as she can get. Her feet are up on the seat and she hugs her arms around the beaded white gown, staring out the window. I can’t help but stare at her profile, the line of her jaw, her slender neck.
I remember how good she smelled, how much better she tasted…
I rake a hand through my hair and grit my teeth.
That’s not all I remember, either.
That fucking prick Roman whatever the hell his last name is swooped down on her like an obsessed puppy when he ran onto the terrace after the shot was fired. The look on his face, his hand protectively wrapped around her arm.
An annoying fucking inkling tells me there’s something lurking behind the duty of it all.
I saw the look on his face, in his eyes.
He’s definitely got a hard-on for my wife.
And he’s gonna stay far fucking away from her or else I will destroy him.
I don’t give a good goddamn that O’Callaghan believes he’s the best. But I definitely do give a fuck that he sent Roman in the truck heading toward my penthouse.
Livvie doesn’t need a fucking babysitter.
I can protect my wife without his help.
And anyway, if he was such a great security guard, why the hell didn’t he pick out the sniper in the first place? How’d the guy even get to us?
“These guys are supposed to protect us,” Livvie mutters. “But where were they when the shooter found us? How’d he slip past them all, for Christ’s sake?”
Great minds…
Fuck my life.
She turns to look at me, her green eyes glittering with anger. “And how is it possible that he could disappear without a trace? I mean, really? Was it the blind leading the blind in there or what?”
I narrow my eyes. “If that was an accusation directed to my side, then I’d ask the same questions of yours. Your father sang the praises of your fucking puppy Roman, so where the hell was he?”
Livvie’s lips snap shut but before she can turn away, her cheeks flood with color.
I see it. And I don’t like it.
“What’s his deal, Livvie?” I ask, not really wanting to hear her answer but needing to.
A sigh shudders her shoulders. “He’s assigned to my father. So I don’t know, I guess he took it personally that someone got through the ranks, close enough to do real damage.”
If that isn’t the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.
“Your father’s personal guy comes straight to you, instead of ushering him out the door?”
She shrugs. “I’m an O’Callaghan, Kingston. He works for me, too.”
“You’re a Viacava, and he’s not needed anymore. I protect what’s mine and I don’t need your father’s men in my face. Or jerking off to thoughts of you. Understood?”
She gasps and flips around to face me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Your best guy fucking failed tonight,” I grunt, ignoring her question as we pull up to my building. “And he won’t get another chance to crash and burn. My guys are taking over your security, got it?”
“You can’t make that decision for me.”
I lean close and grab her by the wrist. “I’m your husband. Like it or not. And we will live here together with my men protecting us. Tell your father to send Roman back to Mafia Security 101 since he obviously couldn’t make the grade the first time.”
“You’re such an arrogant asshole,” she seethes, trying to flick her wrist out of my grip. But my fingers wrap too tightly around it. “Everyone failed tonight. Even your security team.”
“And they’ll be dealt with by me. Your father needs to deal with his own men.”
The driver pulls the Escalade into the underground garage.
I own the entire building and have my own section of the garage and a private elevator that leads to my penthouse.
The units are all empty since the building was just remodeled, and everything is locked so there is no risk of anyone getting inside.
And if that somehow happened, I’d be the first to know and slit their throat.
“So now what? We just go upstairs and camp out for fucking ever? The threat is still out there. It’s only a matter of time before someone shows up to finish the job,” she says, anger and frustration lacing her words.
“Nobody is finishing anything.” I step out of the truck and stroll around to her side, helping her footing on the running board in those obnoxiously high heels. “We’ll be safe here until we can get answers.”
She steps down and pulls away from me. “Great, can’t wait to spend every waking minute with you, hubby.”
It should piss me the fuck off, really. But that fire. It makes my heart pump fast and for some reason I’d let it burn me.
The trucks behind us empty, security surrounding us, guns drawn, as we walk to the elevator.
I turn to face them all, shoulders squared.
“Tonight was a fucking disaster. This is on all of you, and there will be consequences if you don’t do your goddamn jobs.
I want the entire perimeter of the building sealed off and guards stationed at every corner.
Put men on the street, watching everyone who comes and goes.
Man the elevator twenty-four seven. There is no room for any more fuckups, do you all hear me? ”
A collective murmur makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I point to Ray, the head of the security detail and my own personal guard.
“Ray, join me upstairs.”
His face pales and he probably thinks I’m going to shoot him in the head or something.
I’m not, but it’s not bad for him to be a little afraid. He fucking snoozed tonight, too.
Ray doles out some orders as the elevator dings, the steel doors opening. Livvie stomps inside and I follow along with Ray. The rest of the security team scatter to their posts and although that should settle me, it doesn’t.
The silence in the elevator is heavy and thick with tension. Ray opens his mouth like he wants to speak but I shoot him a warning glance.
Livvie and I may be married but she’s not part of my world. I don’t trust her or her father and I sure as hell don’t want my private business passed on to the O’Callaghans.
I grab hold of Ray before we get off the elevator. “Make sure none of O’Callaghan’s men find their way into my building.”
“Yes, sir.” Ray stands outside my door and once it closes, Livvie stomps across the marble tile floor and tears off her jewelry. She turns to glare at me as she pulls off her engagement ring and wedding band and tosses them onto the coffee table.
“Fucking gaudy-ass shackle,” she hisses through clenched teeth. Pacing in front of the sofa, she runs her fingers through her long hair, hair I want to fist and tug as I sink balls deep into her again.
Shit.
I grab the sides of my own hair and squeeze my eyes shut.
Get your shit together. Do not think about fucking the enemy again.
Suddenly, Livvie flips around. “That could have been an assassination attempt on me, Kingston. And you sent away my father’s men.
How am I supposed to trust that your men are going to protect me?
How am I supposed to feel comfortable with that arrangement when you clearly don’t trust me or my family? ”
She inches toward me, hands on her hips, fury in her heated gaze. “Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t. Never trust anyone.” I lift an eyebrow. “Didn’t your daddy teach you that, princess?”
She flips me off. “You're such an asshole, Kingston.”
I walk over to the bar and pour myself a bourbon. I shoot it back, enjoying the burn. Then I pour a second glass.
Livvie stalks toward me and grabs a glass.
“Not so much of a gentleman behind closed doors, hmm?” she spews sarcastically. I bite back a smile. She’s a spark plug, for sure.
But nothing about this marriage is supposed to be fun.
A buzzing sound cuts through the air and Livvie reaches into a hidden pocket in the gown. She pulls out her phone and stares at the screen. She swallows hard and shoves the phone back into her pocket.
“Who texted you?” I say, my fingers tightening around the glass.
“None of your business.” She sips her whiskey, her fingers tracing the granite bartop.
“The fuck it’s not. Who texted you?”
She turns her head up, a nasty smirk tugging at her lips.
“Such a dickhead control freak,” she murmurs. “No wonder the bachelor Viacava wasn’t already married.”
I seize her wrist and twist it, yanking her close. “Do you want me to take the phone from you?”
“Oohh,” she says in a mocking voice. “I’m so scared of the big, bad gangster.”
My pulse hammers hard at her nearness. Visions of reaching under her skirt again and sinking into her heat, hit me hard. Flames of desire threaten to consume like they did at our reception.
This woman has my dick in a choke hold.
“Getting a little hot there, hubby?” She presses herself against me. “You look like you want what you can’t have.”
“Who fucking texted you?” I hiss, my lips practically grazing hers.
I shove a hand into her pocket and grab the phone, checking the sender of the message glowing on the screen. Anger bubbles deep in my chest, rushing to the surface. In a temper, I hurl her phone against the wall. It clatters to the floor after leaving a deep dent in the drywall.
Goddammit. That fucking asshole Roman.
I don’t give a fuck how important he is to O’Callaghan, but I’ll personally skin the man alive if he doesn’t back off.
“Don’t hide shit from me, Livvie,” I say, gripping her tighter. “You won’t like the consequences.”
“Take your hands off me,” she says, her voice raspy.