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Wickedly Twisted Chapter 1
CaraMy rock bottom is a dirty martini in an upscale hotel bar.It's drinking on my husband's dime—my ex-husband's dime—and knowing full well this money won't last much longer.It's having no friends, no prospects, no income, alone in a strange city with nowhere else to go.But at least I have a dirty martini and another on the way."Excuse me, miss?" The bartender is a young guy with an ironic mustache. He leans across the bar and, based on his body language, maybe that second drink isn't coming after all. "Your card was declined."Panic slams into my chest.But no, keep it together, it's okay, I was expecting this.Maybe it's happening sooner than I thought but Christopher wasn't going to bankroll my escape forever.I'll have to move on when this drink is finished, and hopefully I can find somewhere safe to sleep tonight.I ended up at the Drake Hotel out of sheer desperation. It's the only place I recognized in Chicago based entirely on driving past it once or twice.Christopher to
Wickedly Twisted Chapter 2
Cara It takes a second to understand what he's saying. "Hungry?" I ask him like I've never heard the word before. But I quickly get control of myself. "Sorry, uh, I'm fine." I twist away from his grip and stand up. "I was just leaving. Thanks for the drink, really, you saved my life." He stares at me, head tilted to the side like he's reading the inside of my guts. "I'm not asking for your phone number, and I'm not interested in a date. I'm asking if you want some company and a meal." "I'm not hungry," I say and start walking. That's true—I made sure to stuff myself before running earlier—but I don't know how long it's going to last. If Christopher is already cutting off his stash of cards, that means I won't have any money at all to get a room for the night, much less anything to eat. I'm planning my next move as I head through the lobby, but Mr. Kazan's still at my side, keeping pace. "Pizza," he says. "Deep dish, if that's your thing." I make a face. "I'm from Philly. Deep dis
Wickedly Twisted Chapter 3
Cara"I already said thank you." I glare at him, arms crossed, no longer hungry. Mostly because I already stuffed my face, but still. He's pissing me off, and I don't know where I'm sleeping, but that's my problem to solve, not his."And yet you haven't told me who he is yet."I grind my jaw. This big bastard's not letting it go. I could get up and walk away right now—I don't think he'd stop me, not in such a crowded place—but where would I go? It's dark and I'm on an unfamiliar street, and I don't know if I can afford an Uber or a cab. Worse, I have no clue where I'd go if I could.This is basically the most poorly planned escape ever.But I didn't have time. I saw my chance, and I took it without hesitating, because hesitating would've meant getting caught.I lean back, studying him. "How about this? I graciously let you pay for this lovely meal, and you promise not to ask me about him again. Do we have a deal?"Eros's eyes sparkle with amusement. "Let me get you a room at the Drake
Wickedly Twisted Chapter 4
CaraHe wasn't kidding about the suite.It's at the top of the Drake. Two huge rooms, one sitting area and one sleeping area. Couches, tables, a full bar, all of it sleek, shining, and obscenely expensive.He gives me a quick tour. "All yours for tonight," he says. "I'll pay through the morning. There's no rush to leave.""I'll be gone early, don't worry."He shrugs as if it doesn't matter to him. "I have an early meeting in the dining room tomorrow morning, but I don't plan on sleeping here tonight. If you need something, call down to the front desk and have them put it on my tab.""Just tell them Eros Kahzan said it's okay?""That'll work.""Why are you doing this?"He hesitates near the door. "I already told you.""If this is some spiritual atonement, I'm not really sure that's how it works."He chuckles softly. "Maybe not. Goodnight, Cara. And good luck." He reaches for the doorknob and opens it.Something bubbles up in my throat. Some desire, some need. "Wait. Hold on." He looks
Wickedly Twisted Chapter 5
CaraHe releases a sultry and incredible growl before pushing me down onto the couch, pinning me there. He takes the bottle, sets it on the floor, and proceeds to kiss my mouth, neck, chest, slowly stripping off my jeans. My shoes clatter to the floor, and soon I'm wearing nothing on the bottom. That beast kisses my inner thigh, his hands reaching up my top and teasing my breasts. He licks me gently, nibbling closer and closer to the heat between my legs."For such a big bastard, you really can be very—""Tender?" he asks as he slides two massive fingers inside of my dripping pussy."Oh, fuck," I say, mind blazing and suddenly blank as pleasure rips down my spine."Lovely Cara," he whispers, licking and kissing my clit. I run my fingers through his thick hair, loving the way he says my name, but also the way he licks my pussy and slides his meaty fingers inside. I'm twitching, shaking, back arched—He reaches down and picks up the champagne bottle. Before I can say a word, he pours th
Wickedly Twisted Chapter 6
CaraEvery inch of my body is on fire like cold lightning rolling down my skin.He goes faster, fucking my face, and sliding his fingers in and out, and it's slick and lovely and wet, and I'm drooling down his shaft. I have to pull back as I come, shaking and trembling, getting off for a second time, for the first time in my life, and I'm blinking away black spots as he kneels between my legs."Good girl," he whispers. "You've done so well.""Eros," I say and laugh stupidly. "What the fuck? Did I just come twice?""You've been so pent up, haven't you? I can see the frustration in you. I can almost taste it on your pussy. You've been carrying a lot inside of you, asteraki mu, but I will help you release some of it tonight."My mouth falls open and I stare into his eyes.And he's right, god, he's right. I've carried so much inside of me, so much pain and rage and fear, so, so much fear.So much regret.But I believe him, right here and now, I believe Eros when he says he wants to help me
Wickedly Twisted Chapter Seven
ErosI wake at sunrise.An hour of sleep will have to be good enough.I'm tired, but the memory of Cara's body against mine, her skin glistening with sweat as she rode my cock, her whimpers and moans as she sucked my tip, her drool rolling down my shaft—it was all very much worth one exhausted day.Even if I have an important meeting soon.Cara's breathing is slow and deep. I watch her for a few minutes, enjoying the way the sheets barely cover her body. Weak sunlight makes her seem to glow.I haven't fucked like that in a long time.I haven't wanted like that in forever.That was not how I expected the night to go.I came to the Drake to have a quiet drink and scout out where I'd be having breakfast tomorrow—or in about an hour from now.Instead, I ran into Cara, and something about her drew me in. It was her desperation, her obvious fear, but also the way she spoke to that bartender like she was going to rip his head off.I could tell something was wrong. I saw it written all over h
Wickedly Twisted Chapter Eight
ErosThe dockworkers' union boss sits across the table with his right-hand man and his lawyer, and they look like a couple of smug assholes. They traded in their Carhartt jackets and double-knee jeans for Polo shirts and khaki pants, and I'd bet my left ventricle that they're headed out to play golf when we're finished.The whole blue-collar worker thing only means something when it comes time to convince the rank and file to fall in line."We've had a long and profitable friendship," I say and study the main boss, a guy named Owen Grady with a ruddy complexion and a squashed face like a gourd three weeks past Halloween. He looks out of place in the dining room of the Drake, but looks aren't everything. Grady's a player, and a good one. "I'm hoping we can continue that way.""I agree, Eros," Grady says and sips his coffee and nibbles on his wheat toast. Fucker must have a bad heart or something. I catch him eyeing the bacon on his lawyer's plate like a dope fiend. "You've been good to
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Wickedly Twisted Epilogue
ScarI sit at the bar in the Oak Club and sip a fine whiskey. It's peaty, warm, almost sweet. I hold it up to the light and watch the gold glow."You guys ever think we'd end up like this?" I ask, not looking at my brothers, but knowing they're beside me.Eros says, "Not once. But here we are.""I kind of figured I'd get hitched," Ford admits. "But I never thought I'd actually like her.""Same," Carmine says and laughs. "I figured I'd get stuck with some mafia princess brat.""Strange, how it goes," I say, grinning at them. "Here's to family.""Here's to that," Eros echoes.We toast each other. Four of the five men in the Atlas Organization. "I wish Lanzo were here," Ford says with a sigh."He'll be back," Eros says, then hesitates and shrugs. "Or maybe not. You never know with that guy.""He's going to be really surprised to hear that all four of his friends are married." I turn to look at the nearby table where are wives are sitting. Kat and Brice. Cara and Rita. All four of them be
Wickedly Twisted 57
ScarOrin Callahan does not sound happy.I'm back in my Dallas office. The new secretary is outside my door—a young man named Brian. Janine said he came highly recommended. We'll see about that."I'll be straight with you, Scarfoni," he says, and I note that I'm not Scar anymore. "I thought we had an understanding. You come to Boston, you work for my family, you get access to power you never dreamed about before. Do I really have to spell it out?""No, sir, you don't," I say, looking at the window. Thinking about my wife at her office right now. My real wife. "Unfortunately, Rita got a job here in Dallas, a job that I can't ask her to leave. I either stay here with her, or we do the long-distance thing, like I mentioned. I decided long distance won't work. I won't be leaving Dallas after all."Orin grunts, his annoyance obvious. "That's not acceptable.""It's the way things are. I wish it worked out differently.""You're making a mistake, Scarfoni. I'll give you another chance—""With
Wickedly Twisted 56
RitaI'm exhausted when I get back to the apartment.I was right, the first day wasn't too hard. A girl named Easter ("Mom was a hippie, Dad was a Catholic, they compromised.") showed me around, introduced me to the team, and started with my training once I filled out a ton of paperwork for HR. She's small and extremely sweet, but talked really fast, and I found myself struggling to keep up as she threw a ton of information at me all at once.Now I'm feeling like I ran a marathon. I toss my bag down near the door, kick my beautiful shoes off near the entryway, ignore the fact that they gave me blisters, and hurry into the main room.It smells incredible. "What is that?" I ask as Scar welcomes me from the kitchen."Dinner," he says, holding up a bottle. "And champagne." He pops off the cork.I laugh as he pours two glasses. "What's all this for?""A celebration. To your first day.""Oh, yeah? You cooked and cracked open a bottle of bubbly for me?""I didn't cook, I bought some good Ita
Wickedly Twisted 55
RitaMonday morning. I'm awake way earlier than I need to be—four on the dot—but I can't get back to sleep.It's the first day of a new job.I'm nervous. I'd be crazy if I weren't at least a little bit nervous. The first day should be the easiest though—they won't expect me to do anything serious, not until I'm acclimated with the office, with the basic stuff like email and logging into the computer and all that crap.I'll meet my coworkers, my bosses. I'll smile, make small talk, try to fit in.And for some reason, I'm terrified.I take a shower to calm my nerves. I get out and spend the next half hour second-guessing my outfit choice, parading one work-appropriate blouse around toward different work-appropriate slacks and skirts, trying to get just the right shoes. After a solid hour, I'm too tired to keep messing around and end up on a simple navy-and-gray ensemble. I'll get a feel for what the rest of the office wears and match a little bit better next time, but this should be fin
Wickedly Twisted 54
ScarGregory Callahan sits across from me in a barbecue restaurant he picked out. The place is almost garish, a gaudy mix of cowboy clichés: big hats, boots, spurs, ropes, steer, bison, more than one stuffed head, a bunch of bleached antlers, and a ton of rustic-looking wood completes the hideous decor."Never been here before," I say, glancing around, trying my best not to make a face."I hear the food's good," Gregory says without smiling. I genuinely can't tell if he's kidding or not. "But we're not here to eat.""We could order something," I say, craning my neck, looking for a waitress, suddenly curious."No, thank you." Gregory sits back in his booth. "This place is neutral ground. Somewhere you or your friends would never visit. It's also ugly enough that I want to spend as little time here as possible. So why don't we get to business?"I sit up straight, holding his gaze. "Whatever you want," I say, gesturing at him. "You called this meeting, Gregory. Why don't you tell me what
Wickedly Twisted 53
ScarI can't stay in that apartment.Not after trying to kiss her like a fucking idiot.I knew it was wrong—and I tried to do it anyway.I'm glad she pushed me away, even if I wanted to keep going.Even if I wouldn't have stopped.I fly out of Dallas the following morning, early. I leave her a note: Heading to Chicago on business. Sorry about yesterday. Scar. Hopefully she doesn't hold my stupid decisions against me, but then again, what does it matter?I'm leaving. She's staying. It's over—whatever it was."I didn't push her into the job to get rid of her," I say, sitting at a fancy bar. The soft murmur of conversation swirls around us. The lighting's muted, sultry, lots of reds and leather. The sort of place where I'm comfortable.Eros Khazan, another one of my best friends, leans back in his seat, studying me. The big Greek man narrows his eyes, considering. He's massive—easily the biggest guy in the place, maybe the biggest guy in the whole city—and he wears his size like a shield
Wickedly Twisted 52
RitaThat stupid asshole kisses me.We were having fun. A little harmless flirting, nothing more.But he takes it too far and kisses me.I can't believe it. He says the exact wrong thing, and he still has the nerve to kiss me. I put both hands on his chest and shove him back as hard as I can. I'm small, he's big, but I have the element of surprise—and a little leverage from the counter behind me.He takes a couple steps back, eyes wide."You idiot," I say, shaking my head. All the playfulness is gone now. "There's only right now? Are you insane?"His jaw works. "What do you want from me, Rita? I'm moving to Boston. You're staying here. What else can I do?""I don't know," I say, frustrating finally hitting its peak. I throw up my hands in disgust."You're the one flirting with me, you know.""I'm aware of that. It's frustrating, okay? I like flirting with you. It feels good."God, I'm so beyond confused.Because I want him to kiss me. I want him to want me. I love flirting with him, I
Wickedly Twisted 51
ScarI spend a few days in Boston getting a feel for the city. I meet with all the brothers except for Gregory—no shock there—and have dinner with Orin on the last night. He seems as stressed as he was back in the office, only drunker."Don't ever forget, they're out for blood," he says on the sidewalk outside of the expensive restaurant. He grabs my shoulder, stares into my eye. "They're all out for blood, Scar."I have no clue who he means, but I can imagine it's everyone. In his business, in his position, real paranoia must be the norm, and a shiver runs down my spine trying to picture myself working for this man.I can't stop thinking about the difference between Beach Orin and Office Orin on the flight back to Dallas. I keep seeing him standing there behind the desk surrounded by all the trappings of power—huge windows overlooking the city, oil paintings on the walls, expensive wooden furniture, priceless books and artifacts on the shelves—but looking absolutely diminished.Small
Wickedly Twisted 50
RitaI'm lonely without Scar.It's pathetic. I know it's pathetic. I drift around the apartment, killing time until I start work. He left me a credit card, said I could get myself an entire professional wardrobe, so obviously I take him up on it.Shopping only numbs my feelings for a little while.Then I'm back home with half a dozen bags filled to the brim with designer outfits, empty all over again. I pop a bottle of champagne, pour a glass, and start at the window.Somewhere, hundreds of miles away, Scar's visiting the city we were both supposed to move to. I hope he's having a good time with the Callahan boys. I hope he's keeping out of trouble.A stab of jealousy pierces through me, and I have to shove it away.This isn't me. Moping around, feeling sorry for myself. Well, okay, it's a little me, but still, I don't let myself get all soppy and sad over some guy.Scar made his choice. I made mine.So why am I still feeling this way?As I pour myself a second glass, the doorbell rin
