His as Payment Page 6

  “Bastard,” I said more in a strangled mumble than anything. I hadn’t been able to get Dominick out of my mind since he’d brutally attacked me in the hallway of the hotel two nights before. Allowing him to see my gallery had been a ridiculous decision and fucking him? Outrageous. Groaning, I rolled my eyes. The man had been able to consume my mind for two solid days. I visualized the paint covering almost every inch of our naked bodies. The event had been intense, hard fucking and nothing else.

  Dark.

  Dangerous.

  Delicious.

  And the other ‘D’ word was demented. I was that person, allowing my guard to fall. He’d seduced me with his velveteen voice and his rugged body. His hands had caressed in a manner that almost brought me to an orgasm the first night. The second had been carnal passion, releasing the inner bad girl. He’d nearly split me in two. I bit my lip, falling over on the bed, yanking the pillow between my legs. The subtle words about discipline couldn’t have turned me on. But they had. A wash of heat rolled up from the base of my neck, guilt and shame filtering into what little rational mind I had left.

  Yet I could still feel his giant hands caressing my skin and his fingers touching my pussy. And the kisses. Magic.

  Powerful.

  Dominant.

  “Oh, God.”

  My thoughts shifted to the political gala. I should have known then that I hadn’t seen the last of him. I still couldn’t believe he’d actually spanked me in the bathroom, treating me like a misbehaving child. I’d been mortified, angry, and ready to scratch out his eyes.

  I’d also been wet, my panties soaked from the ridiculous event. I hadn’t uttered a word of the incident to my girlfriends, although they’d bugged the hell out of me to tell them what had occurred.

  “He’s sexy as hell!”

  “I could do that man in a heartbeat.”

  “If you don’t want him, I do.”

  The comments had come fast and furious. They had no idea what kind of man he truly was.

  Laughing, I closed my eyes, envisioning him one last time then that was it. We’d had our moment—correction, moments including a wicked and sinful tryst. I could still see flecks of paint in my hair, the hard fucking the most animalistic I could ever imagine.

  I could almost care about this man, enjoying hours of his domination. I had to be crazy, nuts to think this way. He was a monster after all. Then why do you crave him?

  I was as much to blame for his barbarian-like actions, egging him on with my childish behavior, as he was for calling me on it. He’d simply asked me to share a drink and I’d acted like some child in need of discipline. He’d taken it further with the belt last night; the soreness I would feel for some time to come. Hell, no. No man was ever going to lay a hand on me that way.

  Again.

  What continued to trouble me was that I’d seen him from somewhere. His familiarity was almost haunting. But from where and why? My father seemed to know him as well, and given the harsh looks he’d slanted Dominick’s way, that meant Daddy dearest couldn’t stand him.

  All the more reason to see if I could find the mystery man again.

  Perhaps my thoughts were evil, but I was tired of being under my father’s thumb, performing like a good little girl in front of the press. I wanted my own life, free from the public eye. I’d been able to ignore my father and his world while attending school far away. Now that he was running for president, the pressure to perform would be worse. Daddy expected that I’d be by his side, performing just like my mother would have.

  I missed my mother terribly, her death so unexpected, the call coming in the middle of the night. I’d been away at college, even forced to miss her funeral because of exams. I’d never forgive him for going ahead with her funeral without me. God, I hated the man, loathed him and all he stood for. My mother had warned me about my father’s benevolence, celebrating the fact I’d gotten out of his grasp. She would despise everything that was happening in her house, my father losing his battle with his sins.

  Sins.

  While every word Dominick had said was indeed a riddle, he was correct in his jaded thinking. Power and greed had corrupted my father, allowing him to succumb to a life that my mother had never wanted. Everything had changed in only a few short years. And it was about to get worse.

  I couldn’t get the nagging feeling regarding Dominick out of my mind. Who the hell was he? Grabbing my iPad, I leaned against the headboard, scouring the internet. Within a few seconds, his gorgeous face and roughhewn body splashed across the screen. A cold chill shifted down my spine, the headlines damning. “No. Fucking. Way.”

  Mafia kingpin son, Dominick Lugiano, arrested for murder.

  Mafia turf wars spark deadly melee in the streets of New York.

  Federal agents investigate Lugiano family for extortion.

  I yanked the pillow closer to my chest, trying to figure out if this was some ridiculous joke. I knew about organized crime. Who the hell didn’t? I just never thought anyone living that kind of sordid life would ever enter mine. I was close to hyperventilating, another volley of shame rushing into my system. Calming my nerves, I read as much as I could find.

  The articles were horrific, citing countless acts of violence, witnesses disappearing, and appalling pictures that cut through me like a razor-sharp knife. The Lugiano family had absolute control of New York and the surrounding states and there was nothing the FBI or local law enforcement had been able to do about their reign of terror.

  “Fuck. Me.” My mouth was suddenly dry, a hint of fear slithering into my system. Was my father actually associated with this... monster? I glanced again, unable to take my eyes off Dominick’s handsome face. His utter dominance was easily evident.

  I was shaking, unable to believe I’d fallen for the man’s bullshit. And you allowed him to fuck you. “Jesus. No.” Men like that never let go. Or maybe I was fooling myself. I was nothing to him but some tramp who’d fucked him. I wiggled, the pain coursing across my bottom a scathing reminder of my blatant stupidity.

  Hearing the knock on my door, I bristled, biting back a cry. I dared not even bother asking if my father knew him. That would be considered blasphemous.

  “Caroline. Are you in there?” My father’s husky voice asked through the thick wooden door.

  I was certain there would be a schedule of events that I was required to attend, parties to plan and new etiquette to follow. My father had ignored me for a full day, keeping to himself. A golf game with his buddies. A luncheon with his press secretary. I’d enjoyed every minute of peace and quiet until the art showing. “Just a minute.” I was still in my pajamas and it was almost noon. A big no-no while I was living under his roof.

  What he didn’t know was that was about to change. The check from the art sale would be deposited on Monday and the first and last month on the apartment paid. And there was nothing that my father could do to stop me.

  Including running for president.

  I opened the door only a crack, expecting to see his face reddened with anger. Instead, he was smiling. What in the hell was he up to? “Dad? Do you need something?”

  “How did the art show go?” While he asked the question, I could tell he was distracted.

  “Well. I sold a couple pieces.” As if I was going to tell him about the check I’d hidden away.

  “How nice,” he said absently. “I thought you and I could go to lunch together today, you know, father and daughter.”

  Opening the door further, I narrowed my eyes. He never had time for family gatherings or holidays, always working on upgrading his career. “O-kay. Why?”

  He laughed, the same deep baritone I remembered as a child, but I sensed there was an underlying emotion. Fear. The concept floored me. My father wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone. “Can’t a father ask his daughter to lunch every once in a while?”

  “Sure. It’s just not your norm. I thought you’d be busy.”

  “Never too busy for my sweet daughter.” Re
aching out, he hesitated before placing his hand on my arm. I followed his action with my gaze, blinking several times. “I know. There are some things we need to talk about. Will you be ready in an hour?”

  I knew the other shoe was about to fall but he wasn’t going to give me the opportunity to object. “One hour. I can do that.”

  “That’s great. I’ll have the car pulled around.” He started to turn away then stopped short. “Oh, and wear something nice. We’re going to the club.”

  The club? I shivered at the thought. Stuffy. Arrogant. Assholes. “I will.” When I closed the door, I leaned against it, my eyes drawn back to the iPad. A terrible feeling pooled into the pit of my stomach.

  * * *

  The basic chitchat on the way to the club was also unusual for my father. He actually asked about my job search, as if I’d tell him anything. I skirted the issue, describing a few interviews, lying about others. My father and I hadn’t been close since before my mother’s death. I had no intentions of getting any closer now.

  Every few seconds, Dominick’s startling words filtered into my mind. I couldn’t get away from the sultry visions, the way he’d taken absolute control. Granted, the few boyfriends I’d had over the last few years had been nothing to write home about. They’d all wanted a piece of my father’s pie instead of giving a shit about me. Was everyone greedy?

  “Here we are. I’m surprised you wore black, Caroline. You know I hate that color,” he huffed before climbing out of the car.

  That’s exactly why I wore a black, form-fitting dress, complete with dark hose and the highest heels I owned. What he really wanted to say was the look wasn’t befitting a senator’s daughter. I snickered at the thought as we walked in, disgusted by all the well-wishers and suck-ups, literally drooling as they shook my father’s hand. By the time we reached our table in the sunroom, very much alone in the corner, I’d lost my appetite.

  I noticed the table was set for three. The red flags quickly flew in the wind. How many times had my father attempted to hook me up with some politician’s son, prickly faced peons who were mere shadows of their respective fathers? My anger swelled.

  The waiter quickly approached and when my father ordered a very expensive bottle of merlot, my hackles were raised, my instinct telling me to run far away. The waiter left the silverware and the third wineglass.

  “Is someone joining us for lunch, Father?”

  He ignored me, infuriating me even more. “You do understand that my decision to run for office is very important.”

  “I’ve heard that more than once, Father.”

  “You don’t have to have an attitude. I’ve worked long and hard for this,” he hissed under his breath, looking right and left.

  But never in my eyes.

  We sat silently until the wine was poured, my father waving his hand at the waiter who attempted to get our order. “Give us time,” he barked. “I’ll motion for you when we’re ready.”

  Why did I have the feeling he wanted to say ‘if’ we were ready to order?

  “You haven’t touched your wine, Caroline.” His comment was laced with a hint of arrogance, as if I would dare not to partake in his choice of wine.

  “Why are we here, Father?”

  He looked more uncomfortable than before. I even noticed a line of sweat beading along his hairline. My father never perspired, never cared enough about anything to be upset in any manner.

  “We need to have a serious talk.” His voice was hushed. Even though the closest table was a solid thirty feet away, his words were said with angst. This was a very private conversation.

  “Who is it this time, your attorney’s son? Or perhaps the doctor you visit infrequently?” I asked with disdain, grabbing the wine. My fingers were white-knuckled as I attempted to take a sip, ready to launch the entire contents into his face.

  His expression was benign, although the sweat continued to pool over the top of his lip. He took a sip of his drink, taking the time to place his napkin in his lap. “There are things in our lives that we can’t avoid.”

  “Such as?”

  “Paying our dues.”

  The comment wasn’t what I expected. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I’ve done some things in my life I’m not proud of, Caroline. I suspect we all have.”

  My thoughts drifted to Dominick’s words. Had they actually been a warning of some kind? “What does that have to do with me?”

  “Everything.” He signed, looking out the window. “I loved your mother more than life itself. She was my everything.”

  “You hated each other, Father. Don’t give me any bullshit!”

  “Watch your language!” he snapped, immediately recoiling. “I’m sorry. I’m on edge. Everything has gotten way out of hand.”

  “What are you getting at?” I realized my legs were trembling as I asked the question.

  “All I ever wanted to do was provide a good life for your mother and for you. I’ve tried, sacrificing almost everything in order to do so.” He hesitated as if I was going to respond. I’d heard the speech before. “In doing so, I’ve crossed certain lines. I’ve tried to be a good man.”

  Sighing, I sat back in my seat, still holding the wine.

  He laughed, the sound bitter. “I was caught in several lies and in order to find my way back to salvation, I had to make the most difficult decision of my life.”

  “Can we cut to the chase?” I heard the nastiness in the single word, the ugly hiss following and didn’t bother chastising myself. I had no doubt he was going to do that himself.

  But he didn’t.

  He said silently for a full minute, his eyes more haunting than ever. When he reached over, taking my hand into his, I fought not to yank it away. Goosebumps appeared on my arms, a clear sign that whatever he was going to tell me was horrible. “I do love you, Caroline, and I want the best for you.”

  “I can fend for myself.”

  “Unfortunately, you can’t spend your life painting. Just a fairytale,” he added.

  Anger swelled from deep within. “As if you would have any idea, Father.”

  Another laugh. Another gulp of wine. This time, he looked me directly in the eyes, his grip firm. “You’re going to have to make sacrifices for this family as well, but I assure you, everything will work out in the end.”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” The fear ready to consume my entire being was suffocating. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a man approaching. Everything seemed in slow motion as I glanced in his direction.

  Dominick.

  “What is going on?” I demanded, now unable to yank my hand away. I felt trapped, the ugly suffocating feeling crowding beside my anger.

  “Senator Hargrove. Caroline.” Dominick sat down without being asked, immediately reaching for the wine. “What a delicious day.”

  My father was ghostly white, his lower lip trembling. There was hate in his eyes as well as resignation.

  “What is going on here?” My voice was several decibels higher.

  Dominick turned his head beseechingly slowly to look into my eyes. “You haven’t told her yet, Drummand. You certainly had enough time.”

  “This is my decision! This is my daughter!” my father retorted, his chest rising and falling from ragged breaths.

  “You already made the deal,” Dominick said smoothly, his eyes twinkling. “You know how I feel about lies as well as people who try and renege on deals made with my family. You can imagine the consequences.”

  “Tell me what is going on,” I hissed through clenched teeth. My father glared at Dominick, whose eyes were glistening in the sunshine, the slight curl on his mouth sickening.

  “As I was saying, you need to help this family by making a sacrifice. You are very special and always will be, but what I’m asking of you is vital in order for this family to continue on.” My father was almost babbling the words. “Business takes precedence.”

  “Business. What are you talking about?”
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br />   Dominick shifted a glance in my direction, a knowing look on his face.

  I felt lightheaded, finding it difficult to breathe. “Go on, Father.”

  “Dominick Lugiano is a very important man,” my father continued. “He has impressive connections and the ability to make or break a career.”

  My father had sunk to a new low. “I know who he is. He’s a murderer.” I laughed when I said the words. I was surprised that Dominick didn’t bristle, although the look he gave me was ice cold, sending chills racing down my spine. His eyes were suddenly black as coal, glinted with evil. My skin crawled from the images flashing in my mind. I would never be clean from his ravaging touch.

  “Keep your voice down!” This time, it was my father’s voice that was overtly loud, drawing attention from the few at the other end of the room. He adjusted his tie, taking several deep breaths, his shaking hand reaching for his wine. Everything was deathly quiet as he took a sip.

  I was sick to my stomach, a sharp pain forming in the back of my eyes. “Tell me!”

  “I made a deal with Dominick. You are now his property, but he’s assured me that you’ll be treated fairly.”

  The words didn’t register in any form, simply floating through my mind as if he was playing a game. I looked from my father to Dominick and the gleam in the monster’s eyes was powerful.

  Dark.

  Demented.

  “What?”

  My father fiddled with his wine, taking several gulps.

  “I asked you a question and you are going to answer it. What is going on?” I snapped, although I wasn’t entirely certain the words could be heard.

  “I made a deal in order to keep our reputation and our life intact. As I said, you will be well taken care of.” Exhaling, my father seemed relieved. What the hell was going on?

  “Like a fucking puppy dog? You can’t be serious,” I muttered, struggling until I was able to pull my hand away.

  Dominick sat back, shifting his seat and crossing his legs. He gave me a long, languishing look of... Ownership. “Let’s make this easier. Your father is a criminal, Caroline. He owes my family a significant amount of money. And there is more. Ugly details that you certainly shouldn’t be forced to hear. He simply made a deal in order to keep you both alive. I own your father and his businesses. Now, I own his daughter.”