BOOK ONE ~2~

MADRID, SPAIN: CHARLIE'S POV

I kept a blank expression to mask my rage as I moved in the direction of my dad's office. What the hell did he mean by marriage in six months? I wasn't looking forward to being bound to a woman for the rest of my life. Not now at least.

The guards immediately stepped out of my way. I walked past them and barged into his office.

He didn't give me a glance, and neither did he do anything to acknowledge my presence. Nevertheless I was certain he was aware that I was there.

I moved closer to him and slammed my palms intimidatingly against his table. I was more annoyed than angry actually.

"Dad, what..." I began, but I was rudely interrupted by him.

"Hijo, I don't have time to listen to shit you have to say. Pick a girl. Get married in six months or you can kiss the mafia goodbye." My dad blurted in annoyance, going back to the files he had been looking at. (Son)

What?! He had got to be bluffing. What even brought about this marriage shit? My dad had never really given a fuck about my marital status.

He didn't care about the gold diggers or stress relievers I had been bringing home since puberty hit me like a truck. The baffling question was, why now? Something was not right here.

"You're joking right? I'm your only heir. If I refused to get married then who would you handover the mafia to?" I asked with a smirk.

"Who I'll give it to is none of your damn business. Now if I were in your shoes, I would stop wasting time and do as I'm told." He ended in a tone that said, 'leave my office immediately'.

I gave him one last frustrated glance and left his office in defeat. I figured if I spoke to my mum she would knock some sense into him.

I half-run upstairs to the second floor and barged into my mum's room. She was with her friends when I entered. She turned swiftly to glance at me with an annoyed expression.

"If this is about the marriage issue, you should know, I totally agree with your dad." My mum breathed.

I gave up and stormed out of her room making sure to slam the door on my way out, loud enough to irritate all three women.

As I lingered behind the closed door in defeat, I realized what would take my mind off this unexpected turn of events for a while.

I staggered into my room on the third floor to grab my wallet after changing out of my suit into something more casual. Delilah wasn't anywhere so I assumed she had already left.

I quickly exited my room and headed in the direction of the garage. I grabbed the keys to my white Porsche and drove over to my favourite bar.

I exited the car and handed the keys to a valet after delivering a short message, "Scratch my car and you're as good as dead. Got it?" I seethed, causing him to bob his head up and down in fright.

After patting his shoulder lightly, I finally entered the bar to hear 'CHINA' blasting from speakers in every direction.

I headed for the bartender's spot to order a drink.

"What can I get you, mi amigo?" He asked when he recognized me. (My friend)

I thought over what to order for some time but nothing came to mind. Honestly, I was still pissed at my parents especially my dad. I really didn't want to get married.

"I'll take the usual." I replied with a sigh, and glanced around the bar waiting for my drink.

Apart from alcohol, I also needed a good fuck tonight. I was slowly getting bored of Delilah, I needed a replacement.

I glanced around the room some more, finally noticing a young blonde gyrating dangerously to the music. She was faced in the opposite direction and couldn't see me.

I patiently waited to be served with a glass of sangría, not taking my eyes off the blonde for a second.

I gulped down the drink as I stared at her. She had a gorgeous body. Fuck! I was getting harder by the minute just watching.

I asked for two more refills before heading over to the blonde girl. I gripped her hips and pulled her back closer to my front. Fortunately, she didn't object to my touch. We moved in sensually to the beat of the music.

"You're hot." She slurred as she bit her lower lip seductively and kissed me. A small moan escaped our lips.

"¿Cómo te llamas, hermosa?" I whispered seductively into her ear, making sure to brush my lips lightly against her earlobe. (What's your name, beautiful?)

"Sabrina. Sabrina Martín." She slurred as she grinded slowly against me.

"Charlie." I whispered huskily into her ear.

"Charlie." She mumbled under her breath, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

I carried her bridal style to my car. Using one hand to open the door, I set her in the backseat. I drove back to the villa, then carried her with me into my room.

She didn't waste any second undressing herself, my pupils dilated at the wonderful sight in front of me.

I walked predatorily towards her, pushing her gently unto the bed. Our lips met in untold pleasure, tongues battling for dominance as she impatiently undressed me.

LONDON, ENGLAND: RENÉE'S POV

"Why were you asking of my phone anyway?" I asked Jack after Calvin left.

I picked up my phone that had landed on a bean bag after it hit John. I unlocked it then tapped resume when the relaxing game I had earlier refused to exit blinked at me.

"Your dad has been trying to reach you. He's in his study." Esme replied, taking a seat on the black beanbag.

My dad? Why? I'd completed the assignment he gave me this morning. What the hell did he want again? It was Saturday for fuck's sake. I put the phone down and exited my room.

I huffed in annoyance as I walked down the stairs heading for his study. I knocked twice on the huge oak wood door and entered when I heard a brief 'come in'.

His study was where he always resided in if he had minor Mafia work to do or none at all.

He was going through some files when I stepped in. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink in years.

My dad had resorted to burying himself in work ever since my mum died. Things hadn't been any easier when he realized that sooner or later he'd have to hand down the mafia to Calvin.

My dad hated Calvin with a passion ever since he found out about his existence. Calvin was my half-brother. He was the result of one of our mum's flings when my dad was in a coma. Basically, Cal was a living reminder to my dad of our mum's unfaithfulness.

He looked up when I plopped down in the couch opposite him, crossing my legs over his desk.

Another reason why he was weary about Cal taking over the English Mafia was that, he was reckless and sucked at the mafia line of work. He failed almost every assignment that he went given.

The most annoying thing was that I always had to clean up his mess.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

My personality and looks fully resembled his. Not a single trace of my late mum could be seen in or on me. Both of us were very glad about that fact.

"Your brother has gotten us into deep shit." He growled in anger.

"What do you mean by us?" I asked in confusion.

"The English Mafia. He borrowed a huge sum of money from the Spanish Mafia." My dad elaborated.

"Why didn't he just come to you for money?" I asked, and he ignored me.

"How much is the money? I'm sure I can pay it off." I stated with a hopeful expression, grabbing a ballpoint pen to twirl between my fingers.

"You will do no such thing. You are never to spend a cent of your money on your excuse of a brother." My dad blurted.

I halted the pen twirling to stare at him with a blank expression, unfazed by his mood swings. He was clearly being irrational.

"Dad, if you don't pay it off, and I'm not allowed to pay it off, then who's going to?" I asked, which made my dad sigh in frustration and defeat.

"I will." He breathed, snatching the pen from me.

In my opinion Calvin didn't need to suffer for our mum's infidelity. It was only a matter of time till my hurt dad saw it my way. That, I was very sure about.

As he picked up a briefcase, I realized this would be the first time ever my dad spent money on Cal. I left the study after he handed me the money. He claimed he wouldn't be able to deliver it so I should.

I phoned my bodyguard to meet me at the airport, before heading for my room to get dressed. I threw on a white sweater dress and a faux wool coat, then put on black thigh high boots to go with a Gucci belt and purse.

Well, Madrid, here I come. I headed out of the mansion, calling my pilot to get my jet ready for departure.

I quickly picked a car and headed for my dad's airport, the Taylor International Airport. I parked my car near the aeroplane hangar.

If I was going to pay it off, I might as well do it now. I was not one to procrastinate, especially when it came to Mafia business.

"Where to, Miss Taylor?" Clifford, my pilot asked after my bodyguard and I boarded the jet.

Clifford was a short bald Indian-American man with a very bushy beard. He had the kind of looks that scared indolent people away by just glancing at them. In short, he was a no-nonsense man.

I hired him because he had a great experience in flying planes. He even taught me how to fly one, the experience had been exhilarating.

"Madrid." I yelled back as the jet took off.