Chapter 1 #3
“See you shortly,” I replied, trying to smile as I did so.
“On my way,” she said, then she hung up and so did I.
Her words resonated with me long after the phone call ended, and I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about what the cost of his help might be.
* * *
When Ashleigh finally pulled up in her blacked-out Range Rover outside our favorite coffee shop, I climbed inside, sipping a caramel macchiato I had purchased while I was waiting for her in a sad attempt to calm my nerves.
It hadn’t worked.
“You look good,” she murmured.
“Thanks, bitch,” I smiled, and she pulled away from the curb. After that, she drove out of the city into the surrounding suburbs.
I was quiet and she didn’t push me to speak. She knew me well enough to recognize when I got lost in my own head and this was one of those times. She was the only one I’d talked to regarding my reservations about the marriage and the only one I trusted to keep that information secret.
I didn’t pay much attention to our location as she drove and when the car finally slowed down, I looked out the window to see that we’d entered through a large steel gate.
I expected to see a small community behind it, but there was only a single massive white mansion up on a hill.
The landscaping was elegantly done and when we pulled up to the house, the doorman opened the front door for me, and I climbed out of the car.
I looked back at Ashleigh and she smiled gently, giving me the opportunity to speak first.
“I’ll talk to you again tomorrow, either at the wedding or not,” I whispered. Her face lit up with a smile.
“You better, bitch,” she countered lightly, and I laughed. She always seemed to know what to say to brighten my mood no matter what and I adored her for it.
“Now go get what you need,” she added as her smirk grew even wider with her own amusement.
I just shook my head as I closed the door and my nervousness returned almost twofold as I watched her drive away.
It was time.
With an anxious sigh, I strolled up to the house where the doorman was waiting to lead me inside. The interior was just as luxurious as the exterior, but I could hardly focus on it because my thoughts were so horrendously consumed with the man I was here to speak with.
The butler led me to a seating room that felt like a comfy study. There was a small desk in the corner and a number of soft leather couches to relax on. It had a certain subdued elegance to it that spoke to power and money and masculinity all at once.
“Mr. Blackwood will be with you presently,” the man announced, and I nodded.
“Thank you,” I whispered as I tucked my hands in my lap.
I tried to think of what I would say, but when I heard the sound of footsteps coming my way I sucked in a nervous breath.
I pressed my hands against my thighs and lifted my head, focusing instead on the problem at hand rather than the incredibly attractive man who was about to walk into the room with me.
The door opened and I lifted my gaze to see him stride inside, a certain curious expression painted all over his face.
“Miss Esposito,” he purred, and a shiver of excitement raced across my skin.
“Hi there, Mr. Blackwood,” I replied a bit more cautiously than I meant to.
He was just as attractive as I remembered.
His presence was distinctly overwhelming, and I found that I couldn’t look away.
His thick brown hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it a few times, but it only added to the authoritative aura that surrounded him.
His brown eyes met mine, consuming in their intensity.
I couldn’t help but notice that his beard was well kept, and I found myself wanting to run my fingers along its edges.
My gaze dropped to his hands and I swallowed heavily, watching as he flexed his fingers as he took a seat on the couch across from me.
A simmering heat arose just beyond reach deep within my core and I only vaguely identified it as arousal.
My pussy tightened greedily, and for a second I stopped breathing as I processed my building desire.
He’d only said two words to me, and I already knew I was wet.
It felt so different to be here alone with him with no one else to see us and all of his attention focused solely on me.
With a hard shiver, I remembered myself and forced myself to meet his eyes once more. I was here for a reason and I had to remember that, no matter what my body decided to do.
“I must say, your visit is quite unexpected,” he added, and I stared down at my hands for a second before I was brave enough to look at him again. He’d cocked his head to the side and was studying me more intensely now.
“I need your help,” I finally managed to breathe. With every word, I felt a little stronger. By the time I finished speaking, my voice wasn’t shaking anymore.
He quirked an eyebrow upward.
“Why me?” he asked. There was a twinge of annoyance in his voice. I hadn’t expected that, and I floundered a little bit to answer him.
“I’ve heard that sometimes you solve problems for people, and I was hoping that you might help me solve mine,” I ventured.
“I see. There are lawyers for things like that, Miss Esposito,” he offered instead. “I can give you the name of mine and you can go on your way.” He moved to get up off the couch and I rushed to answer him.
“That’s not the kind of help I need,” I replied hurriedly, deciding that bluntness was likely the best course of action.
“Is that so?” he mused. I’d piqued his interest at least somewhat from what I could tell.
“Please. Call me Keri,” I said softly as I adjusted my jacket so it exposed just enough of my cleavage. His eyes dragged down to my breasts and then back at my face again. If it enticed him, he said nothing.
“As you wish, Keri,” he replied rather dispassionately.
“May I call you Jaxon?” I asked. He nodded in response and I ventured a cautious smile in return. My fingers played with the ends of my hair and I chewed at my lower lip. My attempts at seduction were mostly ignored, but I still continued anyway. At this point it really couldn’t hurt, right?
“What kind of help are you looking for?” he pressed, still too serious for my liking.
“Why don’t I tell you about my problem over a drink?” I coaxed, trying to flirt with him just a bit more because I thought maybe he might like it. Maybe that would loosen him up a bit and calm my nerves a little in the process.
He stood and walked over to a small bar I hadn’t noticed in the corner. He didn’t ask what I wanted. He just uncorked a bottle of red wine for me, poured a rather healthy portion, and handed it to me. After that, he returned to his seat.
“Are you going to have one too?” I asked anxiously.
“No,” he answered rather bluntly.
“Oh.” I chewed my lip again, feeling more anxious than ever.
“Now, tell me why you need my help. I’m a busy man and I have things to do,” he directed.
His hands flexed and my mouth went just a little dry as I imagined what they could do to me once more.
I took a small sip of the wine he’d given me and put it aside, hoping it covered up my nervous curiosity as he studied me.
I tried not to squirm under his scrutiny.
I crossed my legs, but I couldn’t stop the anxious shaking of my right foot as I tried to figure out where to begin.
“Do you know my father?” I asked him.
“I’ve heard of him,” he answered evasively.
“Do you know how he typically conducts business?” I pressed further.
“Some of it,” he replied in such a way that I had trouble reading him, so I just decided to go for it and give him my father’s full story.
“He’s a mobster. A mafia kingpin. He breaks the law, traffics drugs, launders money, and sometimes trades in people and even kills them to get what he wants,” I said plainly this time. It wouldn’t help me to skirt around the issue. I had to be blunt.
“I’m aware of the questionable legality of much of what Richard Esposito dabbles in,” he responded.
I sighed with the slightest hint of frustration.
He didn’t seem any more interested in helping me than he had been before.
Maybe I needed to make this more personal. Would it help if he knew more about me?
“When I was six years old, he decided to barter with me. He signed a contract with the Battista family. Had it formerly drawn up with a team of lawyers to arrange my marriage to the boss’ son, Anthony. The wedding was to take place six months after my eighteenth birthday,” I began.
“And has it?” he asked.
“No,” I replied.
“When is it?” he pressed. Still, he didn’t seem particularly interested so I decided to push it.
“Tomorrow,” I answered.
“I see. Go on,” he replied. There appeared to be a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes now.
“You see, I’ve been having second thoughts about going through with it.
I didn’t sign any contract. I didn’t agree to resign my life to a loveless marriage and when I told my father I wouldn’t go through with it, he threatened to kill me.
Not only that, but the Battista family did too.
I’m scared and I hoped that you might be able to help me,” I explained.
“Your father threatened you?”
This time he sat forward, looking at me intensely as he pressed his elbows to his knees. I’d finally caught his interest and I decided to continue.
I told him about the cake tasting earlier that day.
I didn’t leave anything out from the moment he threw me against the wall and put his hands around my throat.
Jaxon’s jawline tensed just the slightest bit and I breathed a tiny sigh of relief at the small sign that he was finally beginning to really listen to my story.
“Who in the Battista family threatened you? Was it your husband-to-be?”
I nodded tentatively. His interest had peaked at my father’s malice, so I decided to embellish my story a little bit. I’d never met Anthony, but it didn’t matter. I decided to lie so that it would increase my chances of earning his assistance.
“His name is Anthony Battista. He’s not a nice guy either.
When I was at my final dress fitting earlier today, he called me.
News must have gotten to him about my reluctance to go through with the whole thing and he wasn’t happy.
He told me that he would take me in his bed tomorrow night and that he’d take me whether or not I was his wife.
He promised me that he’d make me regret it if I refused to marry him tomorrow and he didn’t care who saw the bruises after that.
He told me if the wedding didn’t happen as expected, it would eventually and that I wouldn’t have a choice,” I said, lying my ass off with every word.
“And what would you have me do, Keri?” he questioned, his eyes searching mine. His gaze was harsh, and I looked away, unable to keep eye contact with a man as formidable as him.
“I want you to take care of it,” I replied boldly, putting all of my strength into every last syllable.
“Are you telling me the truth?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Of course I am,” I responded.
“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Keri?” he asked.
“No. I’ve told you everything. Will you please help me?
” I added carefully. I looked up at him through my lashes, hoping I looked the part of a girl in need of a big powerful man to protect her.
If it affected him at all, he didn’t let it show.
I schooled my features, trying not to reveal that his lack of reaction bothered me.
Was I not pretty enough for him? Was I not in enough danger for him to want to protect me? Did he not want me at all?
“I’m going to make a few calls and see what I can do. If I find out you’re lying to me, you’ll be in trouble,” he answered, and I tried not to let it show how very much that unnerved me. At the same time, though, something deep inside me leapt with interest at his veiled threat.
What was going to happen next?