Chapter 5
Constantine
There’s an old pirate’s saying, Not all treasure is silver and gold.
Bianca’s as much a treasure as any gold bullion or silver piece. And I’ll protect her like she’s the most valuable prize on the planet. Because right now, she is.
Bishop is paying a pretty penny to anyone who can capture the daughters of the Four Families.
It’s a silly ambition. One with many flaws. Mainly the fact he should have snatched all four girls himself, instead of sending people after them.
But I get it. You can’t be in four places at once. So, he needs the help of scoundrels like me.
I’m more than willing to take his money. I’m thrilled to take anyone’s money, if I’m being honest.
There’s no such thing as an honest pirate, and money makes the world go ‘round.
When a contact of mine told me of Bishop’s plans to kidnap Bianca Amato, I knew I needed to grab her.
The contact hooked me up with Bishop and he gave me the task of handling it.
Bishop said to me personally, ‘ Don’t touch one hair on her precious head .’
Ha. Who does he think I am?
I know exactly what men like Bishop think of thieves like me. They look down at us with disdain from their skyscrapers. But if you think about it, Bishop isn’t that much different from me.
The Four Families have an enormous problem with him, and I’ll make sure no one finds Bianca.
I have loyal men around me.
Sure, her father already knows she’s missing. And I’m sure a team of men are scouring Miami, searching for her.
But they’ll never find her as long as she’s with me on my superyacht. I had this ship designed especially for me. It’s one of the largest sailboats in the world, however, it’s not really a sailboat per se. It’s actually classified as a sail-assisted motor yacht, a 3-deck mega-yacht that uses massive black sails for added power with the reported ability to travel across the Atlantic with no fuel. The most impressive thing about this ship is the mast rotates which has never been done before. It brings the sails so close together that there’s no space left between them and it acts as a single airfoil and translates into more speed for the boat.
The Dragonslayer is a beast, and this bitch is fast.
“How could you keep me prisoner for that man?” Bianca’s voice cracks a little as she speaks of Bishop.
“I do it for the money.”
Bianca rolls her eyes. “Ok, fine. My father can pay you double what Bishop’s paying.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“You know my father has the money. And you can just take me back, let me go, and no one has to know anything.” She glances around. “It’s not like you need the money.”
“No.”
“Why not? I thought this was all about money for you?”
My jaw clenches. “It is about the money.”
“What’s happened to you? You’re a monster.”
No, just someone molded by a man who never understood the need for society’s regiments, who had his own set of rules, his own code, sped up the process. My dad took the boy floundering in Miami and changed him in all ways possible. I learned a new life. A pirate’s life. A life where I took what I wanted and never cared about anything else but what made me happy.
But nothing made me happy, and my thoughts kept drifting to her. To a woman who doesn’t recognize me. To a woman who despises the man staring back at her.
I turn away from her. “Finish your food.” Before I can step out of the room, a piece of toast hits the back of my head. I turn around slowly and pick the bread up off the floor. “Now that wasn’t very nice,” I say, placing the toast back on her plate.
Bianca pushes her tray of food with fire in her eyes. “I hate you.”
“You need to eat.” When I turn to leave again, the same piece of toast hurls past me and hits the wall near my head. I glance at her over my shoulder. “You missed.” I step out of the room, slamming the door in my wake.
Charlie stands guard, waiting for my next command. But right now, I don’t have any to give.
Anger courses through my veins.
Monster?
She wants to see a real monster? I’ll show her one.
With quick strides, I head to the front of the yacht, letting my men know I don’t want to be disturbed. I slam the wooden door to my private office and lock it. A bottle of Macallan 25 sits on my oak desk and I seize it, not even bothering to snag a glass before popping off the top and taking the longest drink of my life. I nearly empty the whole thing before I flip on the television, checking the news in Miami, making sure no one has mentioned Bianca’s disappearance.
Nothing.
And I know it will stay that way because her father will keep it quiet. Don doesn’t want a hassle. An inquiry from detectives. He’ll want to handle this with his own men without Bianca’s face plastered on every news channel from here to Timbuktu.
That’s exactly what I’m counting on.
I toss the remote on the white leather couch across from my desk and sink into my leather chair, looking out at the Atlantic Ocean through the bay window, breathing out all my frustrations. This little plan of mine better work. It will work. It has to.
As the ocean swells, so does my cock when I think about Bianca in her cabin. How badly I wanted to kiss the frustration right off her pretty face. The way her bottom lip jutted out when she stared straight through me. She’s always had this way of looking at me. Like she owns me. I can’t have her owning me now.
It’s going to be a long trip. Once I sail to the Strait of Gibraltar, I can charter a flight home. Because being on this ship with Bianca one second longer than necessary may be harder than I thought.
I figured she’d sit quietly in her room.
But I’m seeing that’ll not be the case.
“We’ll be at the Strait of Gibraltar in about thirteen days,” Knox says, standing by my side, looking at the nautical maps.
It’s been five days since we kidnapped Bianca and put her on my ship. Five long days of her ignoring me, and me ignoring her right back. Five long days of watching her lounge in a red bikini top that does nothing to cover her fantastic breasts. I’m an idiot for buying it and the shorts that barely cover her delicious ass.
When she’s not acting like she’s on a cruise, she’s bossing my men around. The tempting wench is doing it to get under my skin. I can tell by the gleam in her eye.
If she thinks she can get my blood pressure to rise with her little humphs and oomphs every time I ask her a question, she has another thing coming. Eventually, she’ll have to open up to me.
And until then, I’ll keep ignoring her too.
“Has she eaten today?”
Knox strokes his bushy beard. “She’s refusing food.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course she is.”
I leave him and head toward her room near the back of the boat. She’ll have some answering to do.
I barge through her door, ending up in the center of her cabin. “What’s this about you refusing food?”
Bianca sits on the corner of the bed, her arms crossed across her chest. “I won’t eat until I know for certain my father is ok.”
“Ok?” I step closer so I’m towering over her. “Why wouldn’t he be ok?”
She raises her shoulders in a slow, sarcastic shrug. “Hm. Let’s see… he just lost his only daughter. Is he dealing with it well? I’d like to know how he’s handling the corporation.”
“You want to know how he’s handling things?” I lean down so we’re close. “He’s handling things just like any father who loves his daughter would handle things.”
“Are they looking for me?”
“I’m confident they are.”
“Do you think he’ll find me?”
I shake my head. “No, Bianca. He’ll never find you.”
She focuses on the small circular window at the edge of the bed. “I’m not hungry.”
“You will eat. I can’t have you getting sick on this ship.”
“Or what?” She raises her nose up, her eyes not meeting mine. “You’ll have me walk the plank?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her tone.
She thinks she’s being funny, but I’m not playing any games here. “Or else I’ll throw you overboard. Hell, it’s already bad luck bringing a woman on board.”
Obviously, I don’t have a plank that shoots out on this ship. Like I said, I’m not your typical long-ago pirate, but I am ruthless like one, and I will make sure Bianca behaves before my crew demands to heave her overboard.
They’d never disobey me, but I don’t need to give them any reasons to revolt.
“Now get dressed.” I march out of the room, telling Charlie to bring her to my quarters for dinner. “She’ll be dining with me.”
I head back to my area of the ship, into my quarters, and don a white button-down shirt. Dinner with Bianca will be difficult, I’m sure, but I need her to understand she can’t defy me while a prisoner on my ship.
By the time I make it to the dining room, Gordon, the cook, has set the table for two. I sit and wait for Bianca to join me.
When she enters the room, it’s as if someone sucked the air out and I have a hard time catching my breath.
She’s wearing the same red dress from the night I abducted her. The slit up the right side, showcases a killer set of legs. She’s stunning.
“Don’t think just because I’m dressed nice means I’m ready to play nice .”
“You could wear nothing at all and it would look amazing.”
Her eyes challenge me. “I’m sure you’d love that,” she jokes.
“I would love it.” I’ve been imagining her without clothes since she stepped onto this ship, and my crew probably has too. “However, I would never allow it.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, accentuating her bosom. “Oh? Why’s that?”
I rise from my seat, moving across the room to where I’m inches from her. I could kiss her right now if I wanted to. And believe me, I want to. “I’d never let you flaunt yourself around my men. They’d try something and then I’d have to kill ‘em.”
She swallows, her eyes never leaving mine. “Oh. I just wanted to dress up.”
I won’t dare tell her she looks amazing in whatever she wears. I won’t dare say she could wear any article of clothing in the world and make it look perfect. Even a garbage bag. I’m sure I’d still want to rip it off and have my wicked way with her. Not yet anyway.
I try to push those thoughts as far out of my head as possible because I can’t afford to have my way with her. Wicked or any other.
Bishop’s words flood my ears, “ Don’t lay a finger on her. ”
“I only asked you here to ensure you eat.”
Bianca rolls her eyes, taking a seat as I pull out the chair for her. “And what will we be having today?”
I lean over, behind her chair, whispering against her ear, “Your favorite.”
Her body shivers. “Lasagna?”
Does she really think I don’t remember her always turning her nose up whenever her father’s chef made her lasagna? “No, of course not. Shrimp scampi.”
“I hate scampi.”
“Nonsense. You used to love it.” I chuckle. “I remember you stealing the shrimp from my plate when you thought I wasn’t looking.” I return to my seat.
“Well, I despise shrimp now. Things change, Costi.” She arches a brow at me from over her glass. “You should know that.”
Very well. I guess it’s going to be an even longer trip than expected.