Dangerous Love Book 2

Tia

It’s an extremely silent night, even the crickets are not chirping. I toss and turn in bed, my mind is all over the place.

Darius.

It definitely makes him seem more human, to finally put a name to that face. But nothing about the man makes even an ounce of sense. He is cold and calculating.

There’s nothing warm and kind about him. It’s so fucking hard to get into his head.

I’m startled by a knock at the door, just two clean knocks and now silence. I shift into a sitting position.

“Yes?”

Another two knocks. I groan to myself as I lazily stomp to the door. My fingers hesitate on the doorknob before I open it.

“Darius. I mean boss. Boss Darius?” I clear my throat and shake off the stupidity that is me right now. I mean what the fuck was that?

He stands at the door, his expression unwavering. He’s in a clean white shirt that is hanging loose above his dark slacks.

The top few buttons are undone, and his hair is a scruffy mess on top of his head. I fight the urge to bite my lip. He’s all man.

Of course he walks in like he owns the place, except he does own the place I remind myself. His eyes dart around the room for a couple of seconds and then they land on me. ~Fuck.~

“Close the door, kitty.” He nods towards the open door before I gulp slowly and oblige. My heart is beating furiously fast, it wouldn’t surprise me if you could see it.

Both of his hands are in his pockets as he stands in the middle of the room. I wish I knew what he was doing here. He’s not a man of many words and it’s getting awkward as hell.

His dark eyes flicker down my nightdress, again he looks bored and disinterested. I shift uncomfortably on the spot.

“I told Mario that I have taken you. That all his debts are cleared. Your family has been paid back everything to the very last penny.”

Holy hell he’s giving me answers. He makes his way to the minibar in the corner of the room. He swears after opening the fridge. “Where the fuck’s all the alcohol?” He roars.

“Gone.” I bite my lip as he swears more under his breath. Moody fucker.

“What the fuck is this?” He pulls out all the tubs of ice cream from the ice compartment. ~Oh shit. ~

“Those are mine. Fiona said I could have them up here.”

“You replaced my alcohol with ice cream?” He whispers, as if talking to himself. Why was he getting his panties in such a twist?

God, there was a minibar stocked with alcohol in every room. I’m pretty sure the bathrooms have them too.

I try to hide a giggle, but he notices. He looks angry, really angry. “I’m sorry, I’ll have Fiona restock it first thing tomorrow.”

“It’s fine. No need.” He slams the compartment door and steps away.

“So I am the debt?” I ask, my voice filled with as much courage as I can pluck up.

He nods. “I need a drink. Follow me,” he insists and motions with his hand as he walks out of the door and down the hall.

He walks into a room a few doors from mine and I quickly realize it’s his bedroom.

Maroons, blacks, and every dark color under the sun. Well under the moon. His room is just as dark and moody as he is. I step in slowly and flinch as he slams the door shut behind me.

I hear glasses clinking together as he pours himself a drink. I notice a small handgun on top of a chest at the foot of his bed. Noted.

“Yes. You are the debt,” his voice booms across the room and I gasp.

“Do you think that’s fair?” I ask him, my voice low but stern.

Darius pauses before he takes a big swig of his drink, licking his lip as he inches closer. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Nothing is fair, kitty.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” I whisper.

“Yes, I did.” He knocks back his drink. “Pour me another,” he insists, shoving the glass at my chest.

“So I work for you now. Is that it? Your personal servant?” I snap as I step towards the minibar, but not before hearing his stupid chuckle.

“No,” he replies from behind me. I pour another drink in his glass and extend it out to him. He takes it, his dark gaze searching my irritated face.

“You’re welcome,” I sarcastically huff, my arms fold against my chest. I sense that he’s trying to hide back a smile. He clearly finds me amusing. Maybe he’ll make me his personal clown.

I can feel myself boiling over again, he’s more concerned about watching me than actually talking. What good are answers that make no sense? He’s answering and yet still nothing makes any sense.

Unless. Oh fuck no!

“I will not be your whore,” I yell, anger simmering over me. I can feel my cheeks heat up whilst I watch him raise his brow at me.

“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it!?” I shake my head in disbelief.

“I want to go home,” I whisper, my eyes pleading with him. If I could read him, I would know what makes him tick. I could make him let me go, or at least work on that.

His dark chuckle catches me off guard. Serves me right for forgetting that he’s an evil bastard. He’s stalking closer, much closer now.

I stay frozen as his large fingers cup under my chin, tilting my head to look him in the eye but I keep them low.

“You don’t want to go home,” he accuses, his voice laced with challenge.

My eyes grow wide as they shoot up to meet him. “What?”

“Cut the shit, kitty,” he says.

“You want to go home to your selfish mother? To that rotten cottage you call a home?”

“Shut up,” I spit out, but before I can protest any further, I’m pinned against his hard chest. My hair is pulled so hard I cry out.

My neck is completely exposed to his hovering lips. His hot breath makes me shudder as his grip on my hair grows tighter.

“You’re hurting me!”

“Good.”

My heart begins to pound; it seems I really have forgotten that I’m dealing with a monster. A horrible evil man, who wants nothing but to hurt me.

“Tell me to shut up again, I dare you,” he grumbles.

I hiss at the pain, my hands desperately trying to remove his strong grip. I must have a death wish because believe me when I say, I was not proud of my next words.

“Shut up,” The tears escape my eyes, but my voice is stern.

To my surprise, I hear his deep chuckle; it vibrates through my entire body. I shiver in response. I don’t know how much longer he’s going to put up with me before he actually kills me or something.

“One of these days, I’m going to fuck that smart little mouth of yours.” He releases me and I fall to the ground, I’m a panting mess on the floor. Did he just say what I thought he did?

“You will not touch me!”

“I’ll do what I want with you, kitty,” he retorts, his eyes lazily scanning over my heaving body.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” My fear is getting the better of me now. I shouldn’t have opened my big stupid mouth.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I make a run towards the door—surprise it’s locked. I turn around not quite ready to face any consequences just yet.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe out. “I... I shouldn’t have told you to shut up. It won’t happen again.”

“No. It won’t,” Darius whispers, inching closer.

“Please open the door,” I plead, my shaky voice barely reaching across the room.

Then something snaps, my eyes dart towards the handgun and before I know it, I’m bolting towards it like a cat in the night. Not that I need speed, this complete psycho is taking his sweet time.

I hold up the gun as steady as I can, my expression stern. I want to see him squirm but of course, he doesn’t even look phased. Just once I would like the satisfaction of seeing fear in his eyes.

“Don’t come any closer.” I point the handgun at him, do I know how to use it? No. Does he need to know that? ~Absolutely not.~

Darius carries on stalking towards me, I step back as he watches me. Challenging me, daring me even. His dark eyes make me feel like I’m melting.

It must be hot in here because I sure as hell am sweating.

He’s close now, too close. His arms cage around either side of me and I gasp as his hands hit the wall behind me with a loud thud. Fuck.

The tip of the gun touches his exposed chest, and I shudder. This is the second time today that I’m holding a weapon to him.

“Aim for my heart, kitty,” he breathes, and I feel dizzy all of a sudden.

He dips his head low and takes a whiff of my neck, inhaling me. I clench my eyes shut and pull the trigger on the gun.

The loud empty click echoes around the room. My eyes shoot open, and I’m horrified. It didn’t go off.

Darius lifts his head and laughs. It’s cold, dark, and menacing. My whole body shivers before him as my eyes well up. “You really just tried to kill me?” he whispers, almost to himself.

His face is so close, his lips almost touching my own.

What on earth is going on here? My heart is beating out of my chest. I’m sweating like crazy. All I can think about are the dark eyes before me.

What Darius would look like if he smiled, genuinely smiled. Not the calculating sneers he gives off.

“Enough games,” he sibilates, taking the gun from my hand as I remain frozen, still in shock. I almost killed someone. Fuck, I tried to kill the boss. How am I still alive?

“You are here for a reason. From the moment you showed up here to try and retract Mario’s debt, I had plans for you.” He’s back at his bar in a flash, pouring himself another drink.

“There’s been a rumor going around for a while, that the great boss has tied the knot, that I got married to start a family of my own to continue my legacy.” He takes a small sip of his drink.

“Since the rumor began, I’ve had other organizations trying to take over mine already. A lot of rats have come up to the surface because they think I am distracted.

“They think I’m not on top of my game, because I’ve taken a wife.” He looks towards me and raises a brow as he takes a seat in the lavish armchair by his huge bed.

Nothing is making any sense. I’m listening to him, but I’m not really hearing much. Everything just sounds like a jumbled mess in my head.

Whatever he is getting at, I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.

“You are my wife.” What the fuck?

~“What!?” I snap.

“Here’s our marriage certificate.” He throws the paper my way, and my eyes scan the words in front of me. I gasp as I read the words.

“This can’t be real?” I mutter under my breath.

“It’s not real.”

“Huh?” Fuck, I’ve never been so confused.

“It’s fake, just like this marriage will be.” He takes a cigar between his lips and lights it.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will be the boss’ wife. My distraction. You will make it seem like you’ve got me so pussy whipped, that I am neglecting my organization.” He puffs out a cloud of smoke.

“I am so close to catching the rats who have been feeding information to my enemies, some are from my own corporation. This is the perfect plan.

“With word out that I am... occupied, my rivals will feel confident making their move.” I gulp as I listen intently; his shirt buttons are still undone, and I can’t help but notice each groove and dip of his muscles.

“You, kitty, are going to help convince everyone that you are my wife. I don’t care how you do it, but you must make it as convincing as you can.

“The fucking maids in this house better believe that we are married. Do you understand?”

“- but Fiona knows you took me.” I say quietly.

“Yes. The head maid, Vincent, and Blane are the only ones that will know the truth.”

“So you want me to pretend to be your wife. Why me?”

“You decided your fate when you showed up here.”

“How long do we do this?”

“As long as it takes to finish off my enemies.”

“Then... after... will you let me go?”

Darius’ strong jaw clenches as he studies his cigar; I know he’s thinking over my words.

“Yes.” He finally responds.

“Okay... I’ll help you.” I find myself saying. Seems like an easy enough job. Although it sounds like the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard in my life, if at some point it grants me my freedom, then I’m in.

“Good. Now go. You move into my room, this room tomorrow night. The head maid will fill you in on the rest in the morning.”

“She has a name. It’s Fiona.” I mumble.

Suddenly, alarm bells start to go off in my head as I realize something.

“I’m supposed to sleep with you! Like in the same bed?” My arms cross over my chest. He can’t seriously expect me to sleep with him. Darius looks over at me, his expression bored and disinterested.

“Yes.” A puff of smoke follows his answer.

“No, no way.” I shake my head.

“Don’t fuck up the plan kitty. You are sleeping with me whether you like it or not. In your fucking head right now, you might as well assume this marriage is real. Makes things easier.”

I can feel my blood boiling. “I have agreed to help you, Darius!” I snap. “- but if you try any funny business, so help me God, I will kill you.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Will you let me out?” I stomp my foot before the door.

Darius stands up and approaches me, my eyes throwing themselves to the ground. He makes me feel so nervous up close. I hear him fiddle with the lock before the door opens.

As I try to walk past him, he grabs hold of my arm.

“This needs to seem real, I’m trusting you to help me in return for your freedom. — but at some point we will have to tell your parents that we are married.”

“Wha— why!? This is fake. They don’t need to know.” I hesitate.

“Like I said the more you see this as a real marriage, the easier it will be for you.” He retorts before letting go of me and walking back into his room.

I stand for a moment before making baby steps back to my room, my mind is all over the place. I’m half tempted to run after him and demand more answers.

Surely he’s not keeping me here to play happy families. A huge part of me is deeply afraid of the man and I’ve just agreed to help him. The man could hurt me at any moment.

I jump into the comfort of my bed, my body stretching out beneath the sheets. Before I can think another thought, I’m fast asleep.

***

“Tia?”

Fiona’s voice wakes me from a deep silent darkness. My eyes flicker open to the rays of light creeping through the gaps in the lavish curtain. I groan to myself, still extremely tired.

“I have been given the responsibility to prepare you.” Her thick brow raises up at me and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

“You knew all along didn’t you?” I grimace.

Of course she doesn’t answer me as she darts around the room. “Out of bed Tia, we have a lot to go through.”

With a long sigh I shift myself out of bed and get ready for whatever this day has in store for me.

Thoughts of Darius are still flying around in my head and I try my best to make sense of what he’s asking me to do.

Several hours have passed and all I can think about is my new fake last name. Capello.

I am now Tiana Maria Capello. I have a whole new wardrobe, each outfit costing more than my old car. More shoes and handbags than the local shopping mall.

If I’m going to play the part, I guess I have to look the part.

Vincent and Blane are to be my personal security guards. Great.

We have around ten housemaids, three drivers, a whole lot of security patrolling the grounds. — and I have to make sure they all believe that I am in fact Darius’ wife.

Not that I’ve seen the moody man at all today, God knows where he’s hiding but I’m not looking forward to sharing a bed with him from now on.

How am I supposed to pretend that we are happily married?

All this will be over soon I tell myself, I will be free before I know it. Darius will have executed his plan and my family will finally be debt free. Finally be free of this stupid monster once and for all.

“Mrs Capello you’re being summoned into the boss’ office.”

Though for a monster he sure as hell looks like he was carved by angels. That face, that body, those dark eyes.

“Mrs. Capello?”

He must have women falling at his feet. Worshiping the ground he walks on. Surely he could have found anyone to play this game with him.

I don’t know why he thought taking me was such a good idea.

“Tia?” Fiona calls, snapping me out of my thoughts. She’s wearing a look of impatience, and something tells me she’s been standing there for a while.

“Yes?”

“Follow me.”

I straighten out my burgundy dress and follow her towards Darius’ office. The door opens, and I walk in, leaving her standing outside.

Darius is sitting behind his desk, smartly dressed. His hair is slicked back Superman style. His suit is black, and his white shirt has a few buttons undone at the top.

He looks... wow. His head is down, and he’s fiddling with something in his hand.

“Here she is.” An enthusiastic voice drawls from the far side of the room. I spot a man holding a camera, with other lighting equipment set up facing the desk.

Darius looks up and motions me over with his finger. I want to roll my eyes at how abrupt he is, even when doing something as simple as calling me over.

“Can you give me and my wife some privacy, please.” His voice booms across his office.

“Of course, boss.” The photographer nods and leaves the room.

“Here, put this on.” Darius demands as he hands over a little velvet box.

I take it from him and open it slowly. Fuck. I gasp at the enormity of the rock before me. I’ve never seen a diamond so huge, not even in movies.

“Hurry up and put it on. I haven’t got all day.” Darius snaps from his seat.

I pick up the stunning ring from the box and place it on my wedding finger; it fits perfectly. I can’t stop staring at it, did he pick it out for me? He probably got one of his many servants to.

He looks so miserable I’m half tempted to throw confetti at him.

The photographer is called back in, and I’m told to pose with my ‘husband.’ Darius sits at his desk while I stand beside him, my hand resting on his shoulder.

I want to laugh so bad, and I think Darius can tell. Though the more I want to laugh, the more pissed off he looks.

After a few different poses and positions, the photos are finished. Our favorite one is apparently going to be framed and displayed in the main room of the house.

I guess this is it, this is really happening.

Oh mio Dio (Oh my God) Siena is going to kill me, if the boss doesn’t beat her to it.