Cruel Prince: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance Read online

  My parents had paid for every freaking thing since I’d been a child. Everything. Other than a part-time job when I was twenty years old, I’d never been required to work for my education or the five thousand dollar a month secure apartment my father had insisted on. Hell, without trust fund money, I’d never made enough to be able to afford the clothes I wore every day.

  My God, there were even deposits made into my account every month for food and other items. To the tune of another four thousand a month. And I’d saved very little of it after all these years.

  I was disgusted by the realization. I was pathetic.

  My body was suddenly hot to the touch from the anger I felt. I tore off my bra, not caring who might be peeping into the floor-to-ceiling window in my bedroom. Let them look. A nervous laugh rushed up from my throat as I struggled to get into a pair of pajamas. That’s when I heard my phone ringing for the fifth time since I’d left the restaurant.

  Growling, I pulled my hair into a ponytail, snarling at my reflection before stomping into the kitchen and throwing open the freezer door. Ice cream. That’s what I needed. If I knew my father, my trust fund as well as all support would be cut off in a matter of days. I might as well enjoy what I had around me as long as possible. Passing the upcoming bar exam had now become vital on several levels.

  I dug out a huge amount of Chunky Monkey, tossing the scoops into a bowl. Then I grabbed my already open bottle of cabernet, pouring a hefty amount. Satisfied at my selection, I took both items into my living room, determined to get lost in some ridiculous movie. I flopped down, curling my legs under me before grabbing the remote. As I flipped through the channels, I realized I wasn’t paying a bit of attention.

  Even the few bites of ice cream seemed tasteless. After a few minutes, I grabbed my laptop, keeping the television on for background as I navigated to the internet. It didn’t take me long to find out more than I wanted to know about the Benedetti family. What was immediately disturbing was how absolutely gorgeous the entire family was. The picture had been taken at some winery. It was obvious by the incredible vivid green rolling hills and spectacular view of what appeared to be a full estate.

  I recognized the father in the photograph from what I’d seen on television. Of course, the one on the internet had obviously been taken during a festive occasion of some kind, everyone smiling for the camera, wineglasses in their hands.

  However, the look in the eyes of all three brothers was cold and dark. It was easy to tell they were related, but each one had a distinguishable feature that made them difficult to resist.

  Especially Matteo.

  There was an air of sophistication about him, especially standing in dark trousers and a flowing white shirt. The word stunning didn’t represent the man’s extraordinarily good looks. He had a ruggedness about him that I would almost call savage. From his unruly shoulder-length midnight black hair to the two- or three-day stubble covering his jaw, he was positively breathtaking. He also exuded danger through the look in his eyes as well as the slight smirk on his face. Even in a photograph, there was an unmistakable and very powerful aura surrounding him.

  I could swear that there was a break in time and space, the man able to see me, hungering for my reaction. Every part of me shivered from my body’s response, a heightened level of burning desire that was completely irrational.

  Just like he’d managed to accomplish the night before. I’d seen it in his eyes, had felt it by the way he was holding me so close. And I’d known his cock had been hard as a rock.

  Swallowing, I almost knocked my wine over when I reached for it. I was drawn to him in an unexplainable way that set my body on fire, the crackle of energy raw and visceral.

  What the hell are you thinking? Remember, he’s the bad guy, the kind of horrible criminal you’ve promised to put behind bars for a long time.

  I shuddered from the words provided by my inner voice, but as I studied what few pictures there were of Matteo himself, I couldn’t deny the fact my panties were damp. Groaning, I took another two huge bites of ice cream, a slight headache immediately forming at my temples. What had my father done and more important, what was Matteo Benedetti holding over my father’s head?

  The single knock on the front door made me jump. It also pissed me off. My father wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted. I’d all but decided to ignore it when the visitor pounded again.

  Damn it. The building was supposed to be freaking secure. Did the security guard allow my father in? Oh, if so, I would kill the man. I gingerly placed the computer on the coffee table before sliding the bowl beside it. I took quiet steps toward the entrance, realizing the person standing on the other side could be the single friend I had in the building. The woman always seemed to know when was in distress.

  “Cassie?” I asked. When there was no answer, I planted my hands on the door. I should have known. “I’m not going to talk to you any further about this. You can’t force me to do something, no matter what you believe, Father. Just get away from me.”

  A sudden wash of heat forced me away from the door. My head was spinning as a moment of realization settled in. He was behind the door.

  Him.

  The monster who’d claimed me.

  Oh, my God. What was I supposed to do?

  “This is not your father, Catherine; however, it is imperative that we talk.”

  The deep baritone sent a wave of shivers skittering down my spine, shifting all the way to my toes, the sound sliding against my skin like a plush blanket. His Italian accent seemed heavier than the night before, or maybe I’d just been paying attention to his sex appeal. No. No. Stop thinking this way. I backed away from the door, wringing my hands. Why had the bastard been allowed in the building without my confirmation? Someone deserved to get fired.

  “What do you want?” I finally snapped, my tone becoming just as irritated as I felt. While I continued to shake, it was more out of rage than trepidation.

  “As I said, we need to talk. I think you know that by now.” When I didn’t respond right away, I could hear him cursing in Italian. “Don’t make me break down this door, Catherine. I will if I need to, but if I’m required to do that, you will be punished.”

  Punished.

  Was the asshole kidding? Somehow, given the gruffness of his voice, I knew better than to second guess him. The enigmatic tone of his voice was an immediate draw, pulling me into a magical lull as another wave of desire swept through my system. Blinking, I took a deep breath in order to pull myself out of the hypnotic state.

  “Just a second.” I backtracked until I found my purse, yanking the cellphone into my hand. At least I could call 9-1-1 if the bastard dared to lay a hand on me. I had to either be the dumbest chick on the face on the planet or the coyest. There was no in between. Mr. Benedetti certainly couldn’t get the upper hand on American soil. That gave me some level of comfort.

  Just as I was making an attempt to dial for help, Matteo Benedetti forced his way inside, slamming the door. He immediately grabbed my phone, pocketing it before grabbing my wrists as I struggled by instinct alone.

  “Get the hell off me.”

  He took a deep breath, his eyes roaming what he could see of my apartment as he walked me back several feet. “That’s not going to happen unless we are able to have a friendly conversation.”

  “Friendly? You break into my apartment and you want me to be friendly to you? You really are an arrogant prick.”

  He had the same look as I’d seen in the picture, his eyes piercing mine. The intensity of the moment caught me completely off guard. I’d known powerful men my entire life given my father’s profession, but his appearance was entirely different.

  Dangerous.

  Sensual.

  Merciless.

  “You obviously realize now who I am and why I’m here,” he whispered in a husky tone as he slanted his eyes down the side of my neck, his ragged exhale one of intolerance.

  “Oh, I know exactly who you are.
As far as why you’re here, you’re wasting your time. Now I suggest you let go of me or else.”

  “Or else. It’s not often I’m threatened by a beautiful woman.” The smile crossing his face did little more than fuel the anger I’d felt for well over an hour. He’d picked the wrong time and the wrong girl to piss me off any further.

  I continued to glare at him, cognizant that goosebumps had popped along every inch of my body. I was also painfully aware that I was dressed in little more than skimpy runner’s shorts and a tank top, both shocking fuchsia in color. With my hair pulled up like Pebbles, I realized I had to look ridiculous.

  And vulnerable.

  At least the night before I’d been in my element.

  He took a giant whiff, as if able to detect just how out of sorts I was, the slight wry smile matching the twinkling of his… Oh, my God. The picture hadn’t picked up just how intensely green his eyes were. They were like the Aegean Sea in the early morning rays of sunshine. I was forced to blink several times to try to yank my mind out of some sick and depraved place.

  When he let me go, I almost tumbled backwards, managing at the last second not to make a bigger fool out of myself than I already had. I rubbed my wrists, inching as far away from him as possible. He was dressed in one hell of a gorgeous, well-tailored suit, but that didn’t take away from his dark and dangerous persona.

  Matteo said nothing for a few seconds as he walked around the small room, glancing at the few pictures I had then shifting his attention to the coffee table. He lifted my laptop into his hands, barely tapping on the spacebar. Another smile crossed his face when he noticed what I’d been looking at.

  “Good girl. You’ve been doing your research.”

  “I think it’s best to find out about every asshole who threatens my family.”

  He continued to bide his time, saying very little. After a few seconds, he returned the computer to the table then stirred the ice cream, chuckling under his breath. When he pulled the glass of wine to his lips, I balled my fists. The man’s scent was entirely too exotic, the fragrance creating a series of tingles. There was something enigmatic about the man, his ruthless characteristics entirely different than I’d experienced before.

  I watched as he licked the rim of the glass, the move far too sensuous. When he took a sip, he closed his eyes as if savoring the finest vintage ever produced instead of the rather cheap California merlot I’d grabbed from the local grocery store. He swirled the glass, finally shifting his gaze in my direction.

  “Wine and chocolate. There could never be a better combination.”

  The bastard actually had the nerve to come into my house and make fun of me. I was appalled, wanting nothing more than to wipe the smug look off his face.

  Matteo took another sip before sitting down in the same place on the couch where I’d been. Every part of his body was rugged and muscular, pulling my mind to all kinds of filthy places. I shook it off, folding my arms.

  “I understand that you ran away from dinner with your father.”

  I gave him the wry smile this time. “I didn’t run away. I tossed my wine into his face for his ridiculous suggestion of marrying a monster. Then I walked out the front door.”

  “I don’t think you understand.” He rubbed his finger across his mouth and jaw. “It wasn’t a suggestion that your father made to you, Catherine. There are no choices and no alternatives other than political and financial ruin, and I certainly don’t think that’s something that you want for your family. Therefore, you are going to become my wife.”

  “And I don’t think you understand. I will never be forced into any kind of arrangement for any reason. You are going to need to determine another method of payment from my father. I’m certain you are aware that he has plenty of money. Neither my life nor my body is for sale.”

  “Money is something I neither desire nor need.”

  “Then what exactly do you need, Matteo?”

  He took a few seconds, the heat of his glare setting my body on fire.

  “Tell me, Catherine. What other method of payment or redemption would be appropriate for the fact that your father, Gregory Wiltcher, had my father murdered? Would one million dollars be enough? Two? My father taught me that often there is the need for more barbaric punishment. An eye for an eye, if you will.”

  The news hit me hard, like a sack of potatoes that had been slammed into my stomach. I hated the fact I was trembling, and I could tell it was obvious by the expression on the asshole’s face as he gazed down the length of me. He wasn’t just sizing up an adversary. He was undressing me. I’d never felt so exposed, almost helpless. I’d always been the assertive one, never allowing anyone to see my vulnerability, but he’d already unraveled a portion of the armor I’d kept close around me with the look on his face alone.

  Why, Father? Why? Was the brutal bastard telling me the truth? After the way my father had acted at dinner, I could believe it. I almost doubled over but to my credit I was able to keep eye contact, a victory of sorts. “That’s not possible.”

  “I assure you that it is. Were you aware that your father has been involved in business with the mafia Don Michael O’Sullivan? Did you know that your father has developed an entire consortium of influential friends who completely run the city, including using brutal methods of handling those who don’t follow their rules?”

  “You’re a liar.” After whispering the comment, I dared to look him in the eyes, which I doubted he was used to from a woman. There was such anger in them, the kind of rage I’d seen only once in my life.

  He thumped the glass on the table, jerking to his feet and walking in my direction. As he crowded my space, pushing me against the window, I kept my head held high. “A liar? I may be many things, but I never lie about anything having to do with business or those who threaten my family. Would you like proof that he’s had his minions grab underage girls off the streets in order to use them at a kink club, ultimately selling them off to the highest bidder?”

  “You’re lying! You fucking bastard!” I slammed my hands against his chest, determined to get the hell away from him, pounding on other doors until someone let me in. But the monster was too quick for me, grabbing both my wrists and yanking my arms by my sides.

  “That wasn’t a good thing for you to do. I can see you and I are going to have issues which will require constant and severe punishment.”

  I did everything I could to get away from him including trying to kick him in the groin, but there was no getting away. Annoyance crossed his face as he pulled both my wrists together, easily holding them in a single hand. Instead of lashing out, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a photograph.

  “What the hell is this?” I hissed.

  “Why don’t you take a look and you tell me?”

  Damn if his sultry accent didn’t create a wave of heat between my legs. I was mortified that I was actually turned on by him in any way. His voice was commanding, somehow convincing me to do what he demanded. The photograph was taken in dim lighting, but there was no doubt my father was front and center, one of the state senators sitting next to him. That wasn’t the damaging part. The girl in the cage directly behind them was. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, maybe seventeen.

  “What the hell is this?”

  “It’s called Club Risqué. While the ownership is buried, your father owns one third. It’s the kind of place where every single one of a man’s fantasies can come true, no matter how sadistic or traumatizing to the woman who agrees to participate. Only in this case, the girls aren’t asked. They’re forced.”

  He seemed to allow me time to absorb the horror story he was telling me. When I laughed, his eyes opened wide.

  “You must think I’m a fool, Matteo. I’ve just spent years studying all kinds of criminals, including those who use extortion in this manner. Pictures are easy to photoshop if you know what you’re doing. If you don’t, there are always plenty of people to hire. Nice try.” While I used the statement wit
h as much conviction as possible, I found myself believing that my father could be involved in something so heinous. I was sick to my stomach, my head pounding as my blood pressure increased.

  “That is a very good point. I can certainly make arrangements to have us enjoy a night at the club if you’d prefer.” He was enjoying every moment of this.

  “You are a fucking asshole.”

  “Agreed. Now I think you can understand why you need to be very compliant. Either your father can be ruined and tossed in jail or you can learn to obey me.”

  “Obey you? Over my dead body.”

  Since I was a woman living alone in a big city, coming and going to night classes, I’d not only taken defensive tactics classes, I’d also bought myself a lifetime supply of mace. It was now or never if I wanted to get out of his grasp.

  I twisted my body, able to kick him directly in the shin. The second his grip loosened, I managed to yank away from him, kicking him in the stomach. While I knew the hard-bodied man wouldn’t go down for the count, my actions bought me just enough time to lunge toward my purse, shoving my hand inside. Thank God I wasn’t one of those women that carried everything from snacks to hand wipes. That allowed me to grab the can almost instantly.

  Turning abruptly, I was ready to shoot a stream directly into his eyes when he lifted his arms, cocking his head. His eyes had darkened into midnight pools of glass, but he continued to wear amusement as his expression instead of anger. That only infuriated me even more.

  “I don’t think you should do that.”

  “Let me guess,” I said as I held the can in both hands, determined not to miss. “You’ll punish me.”