Bullied by Her Mafia Man Page 2

  None of the guards would ever step in or challenge him.

  She knew without asking who was in charge, and she hated it.

  “Aren’t you a bit old to be playing with dolls?”

  Marcus advanced toward where she sat. There was no guard around, which was unusual. Her father always made sure someone was near her, and yet she was alone.

  Getting to her feet, she glared at the boy. He was only three years older than she was, but the way he looked and talked, he reminded her so much of a grown up.

  “Shouldn’t you be inside?”

  He wore a suit. What fourteen-year-old wore a suit? At eleven, she knew he was dangerous, and had been on the receiving end of his wrath a few times, but she wasn’t afraid of him. She simply didn’t like fighting with him.

  She hated violence, and her mother always said men liked placid women. Calm and vulnerable. If she didn’t fight back, Marcus would leave her alone.

  She believed her mother to be talking bullshit.

  No matter how well she behaved for Marcus, he always hated her. There was nothing she could do to stop him from hating her. This was how he was with her and how it would always be. Nothing was ever going to change between them. Not now or in a million years.

  “I can be wherever the hell I want.”

  She squared her shoulders, refusing to back down. There was no reason for her to be afraid.

  “Then by all means, master, do whatever the hell you want.” She let out a squeal as he pushed her, and before she knew what was happening, he was standing on top of her.

  “You’re nothing, Laura. Nothing.”

  ****

  Pulling out of the memory, Laura stared at her reflection. She’d been woken up, dressed, and prepared for her upcoming wedding. There was no way she wanted to get married, but she didn’t have a choice. In the past couple of days, she’d tried to talk to her father, to get him to understand what the hell was going on, but nothing.

  He’d simply told her she was getting married, and she couldn’t go wrong with a man like Marcus Giovanni.

  She couldn’t believe her father was even on board with this marriage, not after he knew how much she despised Marcus.

  Her memories of Marcus were not good.

  He’d been a horrible boy and even worse of a man.

  The way he’d touched her the other night, his hand pressed on her pussy—she’d wanted to claw his eyes out when he stopped, and that right there was her shame. She didn’t want him to stop, and she should have.

  He was a monster. Not a man she ever wanted near her, and yet, she couldn’t get the kiss or his touch out of her mind.

  This had always been hard for her when it came to Marcus. There were moments growing up when she found herself feeling pity for him. When she’d witness the kind of life he had to deal with. The fights he couldn’t walk away from. Being part of the mafia, he’d been forced to grow into a man long before he should have been.

  She’d been the easiest target for him. He’d taken all of his aggression out on her. There’s no doubt in her mind if given the chance, he could have killed her with one blow, but he hadn’t.

  This wedding was a farce. He didn’t want it and neither did she, and yet, she was having to go through with it. Why?

  What did they want?

  He’d mentioned children and how she would have to spread her thighs. Why did it turn her on to hear his command?

  Marcus was her enemy, not her friend.

  Rubbing at her temples, she tried to ease the headache.

  She’d not been allowed any bridesmaids, or any say in how she married Marcus. She hadn’t even known it was her wedding day until her mother collected her, and pretty much pushed her into a dress, hair, and makeup. She had to look the part of a blushing bride.

  There was a knock at the door, and she tensed up, glancing over her shoulder.

  She stood. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, sweetheart. Can I come in?” Her father called through the door.

  “Yes.”

  The door opened, and there stood her father. They weren’t in her home, or her bedroom. After waking up and being forced into a dress, her mother had pushed her into a waiting limo all alone, where she’d come to the Giovannis’ house and ordered into this room. She’d already tried the door before her father arrived. It had been locked. She hadn’t been able to make her escape.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  “I don’t want to marry him. Can’t I go home?”

  He didn’t say a word, coming up toward her and running his hands across her shoulder, smoothing out any wrinkles he saw. “I always knew you’d be the perfect bride.”

  “Are you even listening to me? I’m not going to marry him. I can’t. I don’t love him.”

  “Love has nothing to do with this,” Marcus said, leaning against the doorway.

  “You can’t make me marry you.”

  “I think you’ll find we can.”

  “Can I have a moment with my daughter?” her father asked.

  “You’ve had a moment. It’s now time.” Marcus stepped into the room, and she tensed up, pulling away from her father.

  Without another word, she watched him walk away, leaving her alone with Marcus.

  “What is this all about? I’m not stupid. I know you don’t want to marry me. You’ve made your hatred of me very clear over the years.”

  “And you haven’t?”

  “I hate how you bully me. How you’ve always been mean to me, but I don’t hate you.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “I don’t want this,” she said. “There has to be another woman you want, who you can marry.”

  “Not going to happen. You’re going to be mine, Laura. You might as well accept it.” He glanced up and down her body, and she had this sudden urge to cover herself so he didn’t get a good look. She stopped herself and hated how weak she was.

  No, she wasn’t weak. She was strong, and no matter what Marcus or any of his family had in store, she was strong. They wouldn’t pull her down, or make her wish for death.

  “What are you staring at?” she asked, gritting her teeth.

  “You clean up really nicely. You’re pretty, but I think I prefer the ducks.”

  “The ducks?”

  He stepped up close to her, and she didn’t move back. There was no way she was letting him back her into a corner again. Her heart raced at his closeness. It was impossible to deny how sexy he looked in his tuxedo. He always wore suits, but this one was different. She’d be married to him by the end of the day, and he looked the part of a perfect groom. Only, he was far from perfect.

  “There’s too much dress to get in my way of touching you. Of putting you in your place.”

  “You have no right to talk to me that way.”

  “You’re my wife.”

  “I’m not your wife yet.”

  “You think you’re going to stop the ceremony?”

  “There’s no way anyone would marry us, not when I say ‘I don’t,’ over and over again.”

  “Your denial will be on deaf ears, my sweet. By the end of today you will be a Giovanni, and by tonight, my cum will be in your tight little pussy, waiting for the next generation to come.”

  “I’m not a virgin.” The lie fell from her lips easily.

  She didn’t know why she had even brought it up.

  Marcus laughed. “You think I give a shit about a hymen?”

  Once again, his hand was around her neck, only he didn’t press her against any wall or door. He pulled her close, and she followed, feeling somewhat aroused by his touch. What she had noticed in the past couple of days with Marcus was he didn’t actually hurt her. The threat was always there underneath the surface, but he’d not harmed her. Not like when they were kids.

  This was different.

  “All it means is I don’t have to be gentle with you tonight. I won’t hold back. I will fuck you until you don’t even remember the bastard’s nam
e who took you.”

  ****

  One thing Marcus knew would never happen for him, he wouldn’t lead a boring life, that was for sure.

  As he held Laura’s hand, she didn’t even grip him.

  The fight was inside her, though, as well as a little touch of fear. She thought declaring herself not pure would stop this wedding. His father would have been pissed if it had been the truth. Marcus knew she was a virgin.

  Laura hadn’t been with a man in her life. Her reactions to his touch confirmed it to him.

  She was as pure as they came, and he looked forward to showing her just how much she had to learn. He had no intention of hurting her though.

  A woman’s first time could be painful, but he’d enjoy watching her squirm. She had no control in their situation. She was at his mercy, and she’d come to see it. His father had already made him aware for the next month he was to devote his time to getting her pregnant. He had a mini-honeymoon to look forward to, confined to his home and fucking.

  Great.

  If only the woman he was with wanted him, it would have been a huge bonus, but he wasn’t going to let it cause him any issues, not now.

  “Don’t you want to marry someone else?” Laura asked before they made their way outside.

  The family was waiting, as was the priest and the guards. Laura’s parents were the only people for her, and they knew they couldn’t interfere.

  “Nope. You better learn to smile. I will be waiting for you.”

  He let go of her hand, and she made a run toward the front door. He gave her a few seconds before he wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her back against him.

  “Let me go.”

  “Not going to happen. You really want to do this? You run and I will kill your family and your dog.”

  She tensed in his arms. “You wouldn’t. That would make you a murderer.”

  “You think I don’t already own the title? You really are naïve. I will kill your family and make sure they know it’s all your fault because you’re too fucking selfish to do as you’re told.”

  “It’s not my fault. I don’t want to marry you. I don’t love you.”

  “You think I love you? You think any marriage is a love match?” He saw the tears in her eyes but wasn’t affected by them. “Love doesn’t exist. It’s a tool whores use to make men do as they’re told.”

  “I hate you.”

  “The feeling is pretty fucking mutual, sweetheart, but I will still kill everything you love. You will do as you’re told, or else, others will pay. I know you, Laura. Are you willing to allow others to die because you were too fucking weak?”

  She pushed him away and wiped beneath her eyes.

  He didn’t like the makeup. It wasn’t who she was.

  Laura wasn’t the kind of woman to dress up like this, and he hated it. She didn’t need the makeup, but this was his wedding day and he had no control. He knew for a fact, neither did she.

  They were both pawns in their parents’ game. Admittedly, her parents weren’t even pawns; they had already been taken out of the game long ago.

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  She didn’t fight him as he marched her over to her father. Without another word, he walked to his spot, turned and watched as the music played. He didn’t know why this pomp and circumstance was even taking place. His father and the family knew she didn’t want to marry him. It’s why only the capos had been allowed, as well as the consigliere and the underboss. No children were there, and only a few trusted soldiers. No one else was allowed near them, and he liked it like that. Being on display for anyone didn’t appeal to him.

  Her father got her down the aisle but it was at a slow pace, and during the proceedings, he had to keep hold of her hand as she tried to pull away. In the end, he locked their fingers together so she couldn’t pull away from him.

  There were no vows, and when it came time to the “I do’s” she told him no, repeatedly. The priest kept on going, but he was on the family’s payroll. He’d been paid to do as he was told.

  They were married, and he kissed her again.

  This wasn’t any ordinary marriage. After a couple of pictures at his father’s insistence, there was no party. No way to allow her to escape.

  “It’s time, son,” his father said.

  Without waiting for any more congratulations, he dragged his bride out of the room and took her upstairs.

  “What are you doing? Don’t we have a reception to get to?”

  “For you to make more of a spectacle of yourself? Not happening. You should have been a good little docile woman, said the right words, and we wouldn’t have to do this today.” He pushed her into his wing of the house, locking the door to his bedroom and sliding the key into his pocket.

  She looked beautiful.

  To him, he had never allowed himself to see her as pretty. He’d always viewed Laura as a plain girl, not fit for his attentions.

  Staring at her now, with her hair in curls, the length cascading around her with flowers, looking nervous and small in his space, he couldn’t deny a certain beauty to her.

  “Show me your non-virgin moves,” he said, removing his jacket and placing it on the back of his chair.

  “What?”

  “It’s kind of a tradition in our house. I’ve got to let them know I’ve consummated this marriage.”

  “I’m not a virgin.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they’re in no doubt as to who you belong to.”

  “This is crazy. I don’t have to listen to this or even put up with it.”

  “You think you’ve got a choice?”

  “I know I’ve got a limited choice here, but I don’t have to do a single thing you say.”

  He opened up the cuffs of his shirt and started to work on the buttons. Her gaze darted down his body, and she looked nervous.

  She should be.

  He had a job to do, and well, he’d never regarded fucking as a job, but someone had to do it and it appeared this fell to him now.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Laura, do you need me to threaten you again? I will if I have to. I’d rather enjoy it just as I enjoy making you do as you’re told.” He put his shirt with his jacket, and her gaze kept falling to his naked chest. He had no problem with her eyes on him.

  As he advanced toward her, she took a step back.

  “Come on, Laura. Where’s the fire? Show me what another man has made his. Show me what you know.”

  She paused, and he moved behind her, flicking the buttons on her dress. They stood in front of the mirror. She was so incredibly pale, and in the dress she looked like she had stepped out of fairy tale.

  He worked the buttons open and pushed the dress down her arms, exposing her to him. She wore a corset, and he began to work it open.

  She didn’t fight him, and when he’d opened it, she pulled away before lowering it.

  His cock hardened at the fire back in her eyes.

  He didn’t want to fuck a corpse, and even though he and Laura had never had any attraction to each other, he didn’t want to resort to rape. He knew a lot of men in his world did. The women given to them were nothing more than contracts. They were pieces of property with beating hearts, and by the time their men were done, they were nothing more than shattered souls.

  He had no intention of causing that. For years he’d watched each woman die in her own way, not physically, but they all lost a part of themselves. Whenever their husbands were close, they often tensed up, afraid, scared. Rarely did they fight back.

  With Laura, he admired her passion, her needs, and he had no problem with allowing her to fight for her freedom. It turned him on, but then, he also knew there was no way for her win. She wasn’t going to get her freedom. Her life belonged to him, and he wasn’t going to let her go.

  Opening his belt, he stared into her eyes and dropped his pants. He had nothing to hide, and even as he hated the woman in front of him, he was goi
ng to enjoy hearing her beg for the pleasure of his dick.

  Chapter Three

  Nine years ago

  Marcus stood tall and proud. At fifteen years old, he’d already killed five men and showed himself to have the qualities of a true capo. One day, he’d be able to take over from his father and he’d command the respect of the other capos, The Boss, and the Underboss. He would be powerful, and he’d rule his city with an iron fist. He’d show no mercy. In all he’d seen, showing mercy got you killed.

  Glancing across the room, he saw a couple of the whores his father and his friends liked to invite. They were not allowed anywhere near the men unless the men approached first. Some of the wives and even girlfriends were in residence, but then, this party wasn’t anything official. A mere celebration for another young boy to be a made man.

  He had no desire to screw any of the women, even as they looked at him. At his father’s demand, he’d lost his virginity last year, not long after his first kill. He’d also been trained in the art of sex, and his father had watched as he worked with a woman twice his age. Afterward, he had no choice but to kill her. His father had demanded it, and told him in no uncertain terms was he ever to allow a woman to make him fall in love. Women were a weakness, and when he had a wife of his own, she’d be the only exception, but even then, to always know women were easily replaced.

  Across from the whores, he saw another girl. She stood out from the crowd, not because of any great beauty but by what she wore. She didn’t conform like the women of his family, wearing pretty dresses to enhance her beauty, with perfectly presented hair. Nor did she look like a whore in a short skirt and tits bulging out of the sides of her shirt.

  She looked like a tomboy.

  Jeans with dirt marks on the knees and ass, showing she’d been out in the yard. Probably messing with the dogs. Whenever she had no choice but to come to one of their houses, he often found her outside with the animals.