The Devil's Rose 2: Shackled Love
Author
Tina rose hunt
Reads
140K
Chapters
19
“You’re bleeding on my floor, sweetheart. That’s rude.” 😏 Mila stumbles into the one office she shouldn’t. Dritan stands up like he owns oxygen, blocks the door with his arms, and looks at her like she’s a problem he wants to keep. Before the romance interferes, Mila is just trying to get out alive after waking up taped, tied, and sold as someone’s “package.” She picks a lock with a hair grip, knocks a woman out in a bathroom, then slips into a dark office to hide… and finds the gang’s second-in-command lounging with whiskey like sin pays rent. He’s gorgeous in that infuriating way, he kisses her like he’s allowed, and she should hate him—she does hate him—until her hands fist in his shirt anyway. You’d do the same, don’t lie. Then she whispers how she escaped, and Dritan’s smirk cracks because she didn’t just run… she tied someone up. A fist slams the office door from the hallway.
Chapter 1
DRITAN
I settled into my office chair and stared out the window at the wild waves crashing against the seafront.
The ocean has always fascinated me—it covers seventy-one percent of the earth’s surface, and over eighty percent of it remains unexplored. Such a beautiful but dangerous thing.
It reminded me of back home in Albania, except my homeland was more beautiful, of course. They had some of the best beaches in Europe, and I felt it was unfairly underrated.
When my number one called for me to come to England, I was quietly disappointed. As much as I loved to travel, I detested English people and everything about their country.
You either had the posh, snobby ones who were reserved but held opinions about everything, or you had the typical commoners who couldn’t handle their drink and were obnoxiously loud. Well, in my opinion anyway.
I couldn’t stand them, and I liked the quiet seaside town we’d chosen to reside in even less.
With a name like Bexhill, the small town had a total population of forty-four thousand people, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why we were living in this shithole!
My number one, Astrit Martini, managed to push his way into this small seaside town and take over the drug distribution in the area from here all the way to London. The so-called gangsters around the area didn’t take long to fall in line. After the decapitation of their leader, the rest quickly submitted, and now we had every drug dealer in the area working under us.
The small bar we bought along the seafront was the base for all our business.
As I was the second in command, I had my own office overlooking the sea, whereas the rest of the men all worked from the basement. I supposed I should have been grateful for at least getting a decent view while I took care of business, but my resentment grew with each day boredom took over.
Astrit had been talking recently about trying to get back into human trafficking, and as I was currently lacking a conscience, I couldn’t really care less. As long as it didn’t involve children, I’d be grateful for a bit of extra pussy running around.
English girls were notoriously prudish, or the ugly ones gave it away too easily and most were riddled with some kind of STI. One of our boys found this out the hard way. It took two courses of antibiotics for the poor man to get rid of the infection one of the local girls gave him.
As Astrit marched into my office without knocking and interrupted my current thoughts, I struggled to maintain my composure.
The more power he seemed to be getting, the more his respect for his men seemed to be dwindling. Having always been high in command, I wasn’t used to feeling beneath people.
I demanded respect, and usually it was given without a second thought. As I was the cleverer out of the two, it would do Astrit well to remember who had put him on top.
The only reason I wasn’t the number one was because I chose it. I liked being quietly in the background—it made you less of a target, and I had just as much money, except without all the hassle, if you asked me.
It never helped that I was also the better looking out of us two. With my shoulder-length hair that spent most of its time tied up in a tight knot at the nape of my neck and neatly trimmed beard, there was no doubt I was a foreigner in this country.
Although I was completely fluent in English, my heavy accent that came through when talking seemed to drive the girls wild. At six foot three and a heavyweight of two hundred fifty-two pounds, I was a force to be reckoned with.
It infuriated Astrit to no end that I insisted on casual clothing the majority of the time. You’d either find me in jeans and a T-shirt of sorts, or joggers and a lightweight top depending on the day’s activities. I liked to be comfortable, whereas he liked to dress himself up in the smartest clothes for everyday tasks. I thought he looked ridiculous!
Back in my home country, I held the undefeated title of heavyweight bare-knuckle boxer in the underground. Paired with my exceptional talent with knives, that reputation meant no one dared to cross me.
Looking back up at Astrit, I scrutinized him as he spoke. “We have news. Everyone downstairs in ten.”
Standing at six foot two, he couldn’t be described as small. But his build left much to be desired. With his long, slim legs and lack of muscles, he sometimes reminded me of an ostrich.
His narrowed eyes and sharp, long nose didn’t make him very appealing to the opposite sex. However, the power he held made admirers still come in thick and fast.
His confidence knew no bounds. As he stared back at me, his eyebrow lifted in his typical arrogant fashion. It was starting to piss me off just looking at him, and I had to swallow back a nasty retort to save getting into a slanging match.
“No problem.” Lifting my own eyebrow in a cocky fashion, I dared Astrit to go there when I wasn’t in the mood.
As he turned on his heel and left the room, he gave one last smirk at me before he disappeared. I went back to brooding.
I fucking hated being in this godforsaken town. Every little thing was now starting to piss me off. I hated to admit it, but I was lonely.
Rising in the ranks left very few people around to trust. Even my once closest friend Astrit had become lacking.
