Thanks to the small crack I left in the curtains, there’s enough sunlight shining through for me to see the face of the woman sleeping next to me. It took fucking forever before she relaxed enough to fall asleep. I know because I was awake and listening to her breathing, her huffing, her whimpering when one of her bruises caused her pain.

The fuckers who put them on her body are going to pay for them before I have dinner tonight. Dinner with Vanessa and my girls. I hope we all manage to survive that particular ordeal.

I should be more concerned about the fallout when Kozlov finds out two of his men are dead than a family dinner, but I’m not.

Fuck him. Fuck the consequences. There’s no other acceptable punishment. It’ll take time before anyone misses the assholes, much less traces it back to me.

Beside me, Vanessa mumbles something that sounds like intuition or tuition. It’s hard to make out.

I like seeing her beside me, cuddled down in a big pile of bedding looking so…comfortable. If she were naked, it would be sexy, but I’ll take comfort for now.

A rogue strand of pale blonde hair lying across her face must be tickling her nose, but I don’t reach over to move it. Good thing, too, because her hand swats at it right before she cracks a green eye open. When it sees me, she groans and stuffs her head under her pillow. “Were you watching me sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.”

“Ugh. It’s creepy,” she grumbles.

“Didn’t sleep much last night, did you?”

“No.”

“Tonight will be easier,” I tell her.

“If you say so.” Heaving a sigh, she removes the pillow and rolls to her back. “So, what will you make me do today until I have to go to work?”

“Work?” I repeat in confusion. “You’re not going back to work.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t need to.”

“Ah, hold on there Mr. Mafia Moneybags. I think I know my finances a tad bit better than you do. I need to work.”

“No.”

Sitting up in a huff, her hair looks white in the sun, and it is a tangled mess. “I have bills to pay! Being at your beck and call certainly won’t make them disappear.”

“Reasonable expenses.”

“What?” she snaps, eyes narrowed, so bright and beautiful in the morning light.

“Did you forget that part of our agreement? I’ll cover whatever bills you have to pay while you’re here. Rent, utilities, whatever. I’ll give you a credit card you can use for them.”

Vanessa opens her mouth, shuts it, then her tongue wets her busted lip making my morning wood turn to steel. “You’re just going to give me a credit card?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Tough shit. Where do you think your paychecks come from?”

“That’s different.”

“Why is it different?”

“Because I’m performing a job, putting in the hours to earn that money for your business.”

“I’ve got a job you could perform for me right fucking now…”

Vanessa rolls her eyes at my suggestion and slams her head back down on the pillow. “Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“You think I’m being difficult? I offered you a limitless credit card to buy or pay for whatever the fuck you want, but you’re pissed because you would rather work a ten-hour shift every night serving cocktails?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because serving cocktails for money is that and nothing more. Taking money from you without earning it means I’ll owe you…something.”

“I’m guessing the something you’re referring to is sex? While I feel no shame in paying for sex if it’s worth the cost, that’s not what this is between you and me,” I assure her. “When you fuck me, it’ll be because you want to, not because I paid for it.”

Scrubbing her palms over her face she mumbles what sounds like “Presumptuous prick.” At least she doesn’t insist it’s if not when. Although, I think I prefer the ifIf means it’s still a possibility.

“We have an arrangement. An agreement. I don’t expect you to put your life on hold,” I assure her.

“Yes, you do.”

“Fine. I do. But I know you have responsibilities that can’t wait for seventy-five more days. That’s what the credit card is for, along with anything else you need while you’re with me. I’m also taking you shopping this afternoon.”

“I don’t want to go shopping.”

“Too fucking bad. It’s not up for debate because that was also part of our agreement. You do what I say. I won’t remind you again.”

“Fine.”

Why does she have to be so goddamn frustrating? Her obstinance makes me want to grab a handful of her hair and fuck some obedience into her stubborn mouth. My chest is still heaving by the time she concedes, reminding me where I should have been instead of watching her sleep like a fucking creep.

“Fuck!” I grit out as I fling the covers off my body to stand up. “You’ve made me late.” Blaming her makes me feel better even though it’s my fault for not setting my alarm. I don’t even know what time it is because I left my phone in the bathroom last night. When have I ever gone to sleep without it in my hand?

“Do I need to get ready too?” she asks, sitting up again to watch me pull on a pair of jogging pants.

I should make her come to the gym with me. If I told her to run until she puked, she’d have to run.

But I’m not that much of a sadist. Her bruises are still dark, painful. One glance at her and I can see the exhaustion on her face. Without me beside her, she may actually sleep soundly unlike the fitful sleep last night. “No. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” she easily agrees with that, rolling over to turn her back to me.

I don’t bother with a shirt. I do grab my phone after I take a piss before heading up to the gym. At least I didn’t miss anything urgent. Eli’s door is still closed since he doesn’t usually get up until eight or nine unless I tell him to. I send him a text that I want Kozlov’s men brought in today, whatever it takes.

Running and training won’t be enough to work off the frustration that’s got me so worked up I can’t see straight. But carving into men who hit women will definitely calm me down.

Vanessa is still asleep even after I shower, get dressed, and leave to start my day. It’s not easy to walk away rather than climb back under the sheets with her, but I have shit to take care of that can’t wait. My men found and brought in Kozlov’s guys this morning. Eli is waiting with them in the basement.

We still have seventy-five more days and nights together, I remind myself.

“Where are you off to?” Titus asks when he steps out of the kitchen with a steaming mug in his hand.

“Basement to take out a pair of assholes. You coming, or should I wait for you to finish your coffee first?”

“Fuck. I’m coming.”

Outside the penthouse, I tell the guards, “The woman staying here with me may not leave the casino without my permission. If she even wanders around downstairs, there better be at least two men on her, and I need to know about it.”

“Yes, sir,” both reply.

I’m stepping onto the elevator by the time Titus puts away his mug. He has to run to slip inside before the door closes.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks as the elevator jerks and begins the descent into hell. “I know whose men were brought in. These guys are enforcers, handling Kozlov’s business like ours do for us.”

“Our guys don’t hurt innocent women,” I remind him.

“You’re doing it for the little blonde cocktail waitress, right?” he asks. “The dancer I fucked last night was running her mouth about you whenever my dick wasn’t inside of it.”

“Oh, yeah? Bet you hated that.” Being my second has plenty of perks the man enjoys. He doesn’t enjoy everyone, in particular women, asking him to cough up details about me or my business.

“She said she heard you moved the waitress into the penthouse and have been beating the shit out of anyone who looks at her.”

Flexing my right hand in front of me to stretch my still swollen knuckles, I tell him the truth since he’s going to run into Vanessa at some point. “I only fucked up her ex-boyfriend. She is staying with me. Temporarily.”

“She is staying with you? In the penthouse?” he asks. “That shit was for real?”

“Yes.”

“Damn, Dante! Since when do you take chicks up there to fuck? In front of your girls, too?”

“My girls are not your concern. And I’m not fucking her. Yet.”

“So, then what the hell are you doing with her?”

“She’s staying with me. That’s all you need to know.”

“You keeping secrets from me now? When Kozlov goes ape shit about the two men you’re about to lay into, will I need to know shit then?”

“There’s nothing to know. His men shouldn’t have touched her. They need to die for that mistake. She’s staying with me. Now drop it, Titus. I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation.” I straighten the sleeves of my suit to keep from clenching my fists. “Fucking obstinance must be contagious around here.”

Shaking his head, it sounds like he mumbles to himself, “Not even fucking her,” before he thankfully drops it.

I don’t know why, but I don’t want him or anyone else around Vanessa more than is absolutely necessary. One wrong move will scare her away.

And I will do whatever it takes to wake up beside her again tomorrow, and the day after that. All seventy-five mornings.

In the basement, the first thing I notice are the two men hanging upside down from the basement ceiling. They remind me of washed-up meatheads or underground fighters who aged out of the game.

Enforcers. That’s what they are for Kozlov. Muscle paid to do his dirty work for him, so he doesn’t get any blood on his hands.

I have a dozen men who do the same for me. They teach lessons to people who get out of line. With women, a threat to family members will usually get their attention. There are plenty of rumors out there to make them think I would go through with the promise. Enough to do the trick. Set them straight.

Men, though, usually require a beating before they see things my way.

When it comes to torture, it’s either me, Eli, or Titus doing the dirty work. I don’t trust anyone else. Everybody who works for me needs to know it could one day be them hanging in the basement getting carved up.

I trust Titus more than anyone else.

And Eli, well, he actually enjoys inflicting pain. Gets off on it. It’s how he earned the nickname Eligor based on the legend of a demonic lord who sold warriors secrets to win their wars in exchange for their souls. Except in Eli’s case, he extracts secrets from men before freeing their souls from their destroyed bodies. Since he knows his nine lives have all been used up, I don’t worry about Eli ever crossing me. He also enjoys his work too much to give it up. He’s fucking depraved, which works well in my line of business.

The most repeated rumor about Eli is that he once scooped out a man’s eyeball and fucked the socket while the bastard was still alive.

I thankfully can’t attest to the truth of that one since I wasn’t there to witness it, but if I had to bet, it’s all true.

Today, Eli has already gotten started on the two Russian enforcers. A puddle of blood is dripping under both of them. Along with the coppery smell is the lingering scent of urine in the air from where at least one has no doubt pissed themselves. Ah, the one on the left has a piss stain on his shorts probably thanks to the deep cut along the back of his knee. Some of the liquid is even dripping down his face since he’s upside down.

“W-we’ll tell you anything!” the other one stammers. His shirt has been torn, and it looks like there’s only red, raw skin and blood where his nipples used to be.

“Jesus,” Titus whispers. He doesn’t enjoy inflicting pain but will do it when necessary.

“They think you want information from them,” Eli explains unnecessarily.

“I apologize for the confusion,” I remark as I glide closer to them. “You’re not here to give me information.”

“Then…wh-what do you want?”

“I just want you dead,” I explain. “But I want you to die a slow, painful death.” The pisser begins to cry at that, incapable of speaking discernable words. “Do you two remember a petite blonde woman from the night before last?”

“We didn’t know s-she was one of your girls,” the stammering one announces.

“You see, that’s why you’re both dead men. Going around hurting any woman, mine, or someone else’s, is unacceptable.”

“Our informant says they also grab girls for Kozlov’s flesh trade,” Titus informs us.

The sudden rise of my blood pressure makes my head throb. What if they had taken Vanessa and thrown her into one of those disgusting trafficking rings? I probably would’ve never seen her again or known what happened to her. Bastards like these guys are why I’m so protective of my girls.

While I want to put a bullet through both of their heads right here and now, slow and painful is what they deserve.

“How long do you want to keep playing with them?” I ask Eli.

“A few more days at least,” Eli answers.

“Fine. Do your worst for the next forty-eight hours.”

“And if they don’t make it that long?” he asks.

“Try to keep them alive. I want to be the one who finishes them off.”

“Yes, sir.”

I don’t bother touching them now. Seeing the fear on their face, the pain from what’s already been done to them, it’s enough for the time being.

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