Paetyn’s POVI’m concerned about Ace. Last week, I noticed he had busted knuckles that were split and beginning to bruise around the torn skin. When I asked what happened to him, he gave me that same straight-faced look I always get when I asked questions about his job. I know he is an enforcer and has to hurt people, but it doesn’t make me any less worried about him when he leaves in the morning. Not knowing if he’s out on the streets in danger sends me into a spiral more often than not. I know he’s a man capable of looking after himself, but it still doesn’t ease the tension in my chest. He won’t tell me the details of his job, and I don’t expect him to, but sometimes I think I would be better off knowing to help me relax a little more. But until that day comes—if ever—I will have to get used to worrying about my boyfriend. Boyfriend. It’s an odd feeling thinking of him as that. Who would’ve known that Ace, my kidnapper and stalker, would become my boyfriend? Certainly not me, bu
Ace’s POVA scream pierces through the air, sharp and painful. Any normal person would cringe at the sound or be filled with such fear it would make their knees wobble like a newborn fawn. But I’m not a normal person. Never claimed to be. I’m the fucking devil. I squat in front of the man chained to the roof of the basement in the Gambino mansion. His trembling arms are attached to the hook on the low ceiling by a thick metal clasp. He hangs there helplessly, leaving the rest of his body exposed to me to do with as I please. My gaze rakes over the sweat and blood clinging to his pale skin. Bruises and gashes paint his body like the finest piece of artwork, thanks to my fists. Electricity thrums through my veins at the sight of this kid, not much older than nineteen if I had to guess. I should feel some ounce of remorse for punishing someone who is nowhere near mature enough to understand his actions. And some part of me wants to feel that because he doesn’t know any better. But I d
Paetyn’s POV“How is she doing on the new medication? There haven't been any complications, have there?” Dr. Charles Barney shakes his head. Strands of thin silver hair fall over his pale brown eyes. He makes no move to push them out of his line of sight, instead choosing to ignore their existence and look down at the chart gripped firmly in his hands. “As of right now, she’s responding well to the chemotherapy, but we will ensure we keep a close eye on her at all times. If anything goes wrong with the process and we need to go down a different path of treatment, you’ll be the first to know, Paetyn. The cancer is different this time. Stronger. But… we’ll figure it out.” I breathe a sigh of relief, my shoulders slumping ever so slightly. Knowing that Mom is being taken care of by the wonderful team at the hospital, led by Dr. Barney, brings a sense of peace I have been searching for since the moment she was admitted many months ago. Taking care of a parent is hard enough for anyone b
Paetyn’s POVMy heart rate hasn’t slowed down since the incident in the parking lot. Even as I drive further away, leaving the man standing under the streetlamp in my rearview, my heart continues to pound painfully against my rib cage, pulsating in my ears.Who was that man? And why did it feel as though his eyes were piercing through my soul from behind that mask? The car rolls to a stop in the driveway, and for the first time in twenty minutes, I exhale sharply. My lungs burn from holding onto a breath I hadn’t managed to release, and I gasp for fresh air to fill my lungs. I close my eyes and drop my hands from the steering wheel. Images of the masked man flash in my mind, sending a cold shiver racing across my skin and down my spine. Forget about it, Pae, I tell myself. Dwelling on the details of the incident isn’t going to change the fact that it happened. All I can do is be thankful that the man didn’t get close to me and that I’m home safe. Now that my breathing has calmed do
Paetyn’s POVThe voice of the client sitting across from me is slightly muffled by the rampant thoughts of the masked man racing through my mind. It has been two days since I saw him standing in my backyard, his eyes piercing me through the mask covering his features, and I haven’t stopped thinking about him. Liam told me not to worry about him, but how can I possibly not? It’s one thing to watch me from across the parking lot, but it’s another to stand in the darkness of my backyard and watch me like a hawk, making his presence known. He’s keeping his features concealed for a reason, so I’m unable to identify him, but if he’s going out of his way to let me know he’s there, watching me, then why hasn’t he made a move yet? What is he waiting for? The thought of him doing something to hurt me sends a shiver across my body, goosebumps pebbling my skin from beneath the cardigan wrapped tightly around my torso. I haven’t been able to sleep much the past two days for fear that I would see
Paetyn’s POVFor a split second, my brain convinces me I’m blind. Darkness surrounds me, engulfing me whole and holding me hostage. But the soft buzzing working its way into the depths of my mind tells me that I haven’t been completely dragged down to the depths of hell with no sight of return. Not yet, at least.My head thumps painfully, the source coming from deep behind my eyes. The rhythmic movement echoes in my ears, making it hard to think straight. I try my best to force my hand up to cradle my head, hoping it’ll ease the pain, but my limbs are heavy. Too heavy to move. With a groan, I fight against the pain coursing through my body to force my eyes open. At first, it’s almost painful. My eyelids feel as though they’ve been glued shut, keeping me from seeing. But with a great deal of effort, I pry them open and am immediately assaulted by a warm, orange glow above me. A hiss slips past my lips as I fight to clear my vision. The sudden intrusion of light hitting my eyes only i
Paetyn’s POVFor a split second, my brain convinces me I’m blind. Darkness surrounds me, engulfing me whole and holding me hostage. But the soft buzzing working its way into the depths of my mind tells me that I haven’t been completely dragged down to the depths of hell with no sight of return. Not yet, at least.My head thumps painfully, the source coming from deep behind my eyes. The rhythmic movement echoes in my ears, making it hard to think straight. I try my best to force my hand up to cradle my head, hoping it’ll ease the pain, but my limbs are heavy. Too heavy to move. With a groan, I fight against the pain coursing through my body to force my eyes open. At first, it’s almost painful. My eyelids feel as though they’ve been glued shut, keeping me from seeing. But with a great deal of effort, I pry them open and am immediately assaulted by a warm, orange glow above me. A hiss slips past my lips as I fight to clear my vision. The sudden intrusion of light hitting my eyes only i
Paetyn’s POVA deep voice booms through the wooden door of the room, startling me awake. My heart slams into my throat as I force myself into a seated position, clutching the sheets to my chest.What the hell is going on?Even though I’ve only heard the masked man speak a few times, I recognize his voice. His tone is deep and unlike anything I’ve ever heard. But who is he talking to? No one responds to him, so I can only assume he’s speaking to someone on the phone.His muffled voice filters throughout the room, but soon his words become clearer as if he’s pacing the floor outside, getting closer and closer to the door. The desire burning deep in my chest to know what he’s saying consumes me. If I want to know more about this man and potentially learn why I’m here, I need to listen in on the conversation.Without making a noise, I slide off the creaky matt
Ace’s POVA scream pierces through the air, sharp and painful. Any normal person would cringe at the sound or be filled with such fear it would make their knees wobble like a newborn fawn. But I’m not a normal person. Never claimed to be. I’m the fucking devil. I squat in front of the man chained to the roof of the basement in the Gambino mansion. His trembling arms are attached to the hook on the low ceiling by a thick metal clasp. He hangs there helplessly, leaving the rest of his body exposed to me to do with as I please. My gaze rakes over the sweat and blood clinging to his pale skin. Bruises and gashes paint his body like the finest piece of artwork, thanks to my fists. Electricity thrums through my veins at the sight of this kid, not much older than nineteen if I had to guess. I should feel some ounce of remorse for punishing someone who is nowhere near mature enough to understand his actions. And some part of me wants to feel that because he doesn’t know any better. But I d
Paetyn’s POVI’m concerned about Ace. Last week, I noticed he had busted knuckles that were split and beginning to bruise around the torn skin. When I asked what happened to him, he gave me that same straight-faced look I always get when I asked questions about his job. I know he is an enforcer and has to hurt people, but it doesn’t make me any less worried about him when he leaves in the morning. Not knowing if he’s out on the streets in danger sends me into a spiral more often than not. I know he’s a man capable of looking after himself, but it still doesn’t ease the tension in my chest. He won’t tell me the details of his job, and I don’t expect him to, but sometimes I think I would be better off knowing to help me relax a little more. But until that day comes—if ever—I will have to get used to worrying about my boyfriend. Boyfriend. It’s an odd feeling thinking of him as that. Who would’ve known that Ace, my kidnapper and stalker, would become my boyfriend? Certainly not me, bu
Ace’s POVEnzo was adamant about this shakedown going smoothly. He doesn’t want a single thing to go wrong. The goal is to get the message across to the Bonanno crew and their leader, Antonio, that we’re not to be messed with. If they don’t back off, Enzo will have no problem coming at them full force with me at his side. And unfortunately for them, I like getting my hands dirty. All the made men in the group stand around me, black hoods covering their heads, concealing their identities. Enzo ensured they were equipped with every weapon under the sun that’ll be useful in protecting them if shit goes south. I’d like to think I have this under control. After all, Enzo trusted me to do this, so I’m going to do it right. “Does everyone remember the plan?” My voice is quiet but deep in an attempt to not be detected where we stand in the shadows of the quarry. The full moon is our only source of light, which works in our favor for staying hidden. “The Bonanno crew have a gun shipment comi
Ace’s POVIt took every ounce of self control I possessed to not kill Patrick Aster with my bare hands. The smug look on his face when he told Paetyn to publicly name herself as an obsessed ex-fiancee to save Liam’s ass, and in return she’ll recieve one million dollars, had me seeing red. If Paetyn wasn’t standing in front of me, I would have lunged for the motherfucker. As much as I wanted to paint my hands red with his blood for having the audacity to speak to my girl that way, I reigned in my temper and allowed her to make her own decisions. Plus, I got far too much enjoyment out of seeing his face when I answered as her boyfriend. I’m sure Pat will have a swell time informing his son of that development. Paetyn trails me as we walk the small pathway to the front door of our house. Her presence behind me is all-consuming, like a wildfire licking at my back, ready to devour me. Every inch of her is ingrained in my mind—there isn’t a thing I don’t know about this woman or what she
Paetyn’s POVThe Aster mansion sends chills down my spine. Every dinner I ate with them consisted of Liam and Pat talking about politics while Angie smiled and nodded along as if it were the most riveting of topics. I was always bored out of my mind because not only am I not interested in politics, but they hardly ever included me in their conversation. All they cared about was their precious son. The same son who had me kidnapped and held hostage as a trick for his campaign.I never thought I’d be back here after I ended the engagement with Liam, but now, here I stand, staring down the barrel of the gun. My muscles itch, desperate for me to turn around and hightail it back to the comfort of Ace’s house where I know I’m safe. Here… anything can happen. No one is truly safe in the presence of Patrick Aster.“Pae, are you okay?” Ace’s hand rests on my shoulder, his chest brushing my back. I lean into the warmth of his hand, soaking in the comfort his gentle touch brings me. “If you
Paetyn’s POVMy legs ache as I pace the bedroom, hands clasped firmly behind my back. The skin on my bottom lip is raw from the amount of times I’ve dragged my teeth over it, thoughts lost on the phone call I received this afternoon. Pat Aster wants to meet with me. Why? Why now after weeks of this back and forth with Liam? I’m sure he’s looking to squash this fire before it grows into an inferno, but how does he think this will go? Intimidate me until I roll over and pretend this never happened? He’s delusional if he thinks I’m going to allow his son to get away with what he did to me. Liam deserves every ounce of bad karma coming his way. It would be in my best interest to tell him to shove his meeting where the sun doesn’t shine because he doesn’t deserve a second of my town. But on the other hand, curiosity is pushing me toward needing to know what Pat’s intentions are. If I don’t show up on Monday, I may never know what he wants, and that worries me more than actually meetin
Ace’s POVVoices echo through my mind like an incessant pounding of a drum, grating on every last nerve. I grit my teeth to avoid telling everyone to shut up so I can think. It doesn’t help that we’re crammed into the formal dining room in Enzo’s mansion, waiting for him to arrive. My nails dig painfully into my palms, my fists pressed to my thighs. The wooden chair creak beneath my weight as I lean back, staring at the deep mahogany table I’m sure must’ve cost a fortune. Glasses of whiskey litter the vast space, consumed at different paces by the men occupying every seat. They’re men I’ve known for many years and respect, but right now, I want to get lost in my thoughts about a certain silver-haired woman. Walking the streets of New York City with Paetyn a few days ago was unexpected, and, dare I say, relaxing–eventually. The moment we stepped out of my house, her hand wrapped in mine, tension lined every muscle in my body. Even through lunch, I couldn’t help but feel as though som
Paetyn’s POV“Thank you for coming in today, Ben.” I push open the door to my office and move to the side, locking my gaze on the man not much older than me rising from his seat on the couch. “I have you scheduled for two weeks from today for your next session.”Ben rubs the back of his neck, unable to meet my eyes as he steps past me into the hallway. “Thank you, Miss Jones.” His large frame turns in the hallway, brown eyes lifting from the ground to meet mine. “I needed this.”I smile. “I’m glad to hear that. You’re making great progress with your anxiety and depression, so keep up with the techniques we spoke about today, and then we can discuss how they’ve helped in our next session.”Ben nods. “Of course. I’ll see you in two weeks.”My grip on the handle tightens, and I lift my hand in a wave. “Take care, Ben.” My client turns and walks down the hallway, disappearing into the foyer.I exhale a sharp breath and run a hand down the side of my face, exhaustion settling into my bones
Paetyn’s POV“I really shouldn’t have had that extra pizza slice.” A soft groan escapes my parted lips as I rub my stomach, regretting my recent choices. “You said you were hungry,” Ace points out, his arm brushing mine as we wander through Central Park. His hand tightens around my fingers, as if he’s claiming me for everyone to see. “I was only doing what you asked of me.”“I know,” I whine, tilting my head back with a pout turning down my lips. “But I wish you had told me no or dragged me past the food stand. It feels like my stomach is creating the largest food baby known to mankind.”Ace snorts a laugh. “Pae, you’re being dramatic.”“I don’t know that I am,” I murmur, returning my gaze forward. Central Park has to be the most stunning place during winter. Frost and snow cover the grass lining the walkway, and the benches require a mini snow plougher to rid them of the thick snow. Footprints from hundreds of people span the width of the walkway, telling a story of eager tourists