EMELIA

“See that guy over there?” my friend Tabitha asked as she nudged me in the side.

I looked over at the guy she was not-so-subtly pointing at. “Yeah, I see him. What about him?”

“He hasn't taken his eyes off you since we've walked in,” she said. “He's gorgeous. You should definitely go over there and talk to him.”

I stared over at the handsome stranger Tabby was talking about. He was with a couple of other guys playing pool in the corner. On the surface, he was everything I liked in a man – tall, dark, handsome and dressed incredibly well. He looked like he was fit and took good care of himself.

I could tell that he came from money. Dressed the way he was, his hair neatly styled, and just the way he carried himself made me pretty certain of that. His designer jeans hugged his toned, taut body, clinging deliciously to his ass every time he bent over to take his turn. But it wasn't his body that attracted me the most – though, I certainly wasn't complaining about it.

No, what caught my attention and held it were his deep, blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones. His cheekbones made me think of all the male underwear models on the cover of magazines, and I thought I could absolutely drown in the depths of those beautiful eyes.

The urge to saunter over and strike up a conversation with the handsome stranger was strong. I usually wasn't the shrinking violet type and had never really had much of a problem striking up conversations with strangers before. But as I looked at him, a wave of hesitance and trepidation washed over me and I knew that I couldn't go over there.

“You like him, don't you?” Tabitha cooed, playfully slapping my shoulder. “Seriously, go talk to him, Emlia. From where I stand, you've got nothing to lose and a whole lot to gain. I mean, did you see the ass on that man? Wow.”

I looked down my drink and shrugged, the momentary feeling of bravado and the urge to go talk to him passing quickly.

“I can't,” I said. “And you know why.”

“You can't because of Tony? Seriously?” she asked, astonishment in her voice. “Why in the hell would you pass up on that hunk of a man because of Tony?”

“Yeah, because of Tony,” I scoffed. “He's my fiance for Godsake.”

“But he's an asshole. Not to mention the fact that you don't love him, Emlia,” Tabitha said. “That's only a marriage of convenience, or strategy or whatever, and we both know it. So why not let yourself have a little fun on your own time?”

“Because my father would kill me if he found out I'd been unfaithful,” I said.

“Why? Because men get to have all the fun? You know that Tony's already bangin' somebody else – and will be long after you're married. So why shouldn't you get to find yourself a little fun on the side?” Tabitha raised an eyebrow at me. “Go over there and talk to him. You know you want to.”

I did want to. Tabby was right about that. Tony might have been the man I was supposed to marry and love, but honestly, there was just nothing there. Nothing between us. No spark. No chemistry – nothing at all. I wasn't attracted to him in any way, shape, or form. And no matter how many times he'd tried to sleep with me, I always found a way around it. I just couldn't fathom the idea of him putting his hands on me – not without feeling sick to my stomach.

I knew that eventually – most likely on our wedding night – I'd have to give in to him. But for now at least, I was happy keeping my virginity intact.

“It's more than just Tony. I'm not that kind of girl, Tabitha,” I muttered. “You know that.”

“I'm not saying you have to fuck him, geez. But what could a conversation hurt?” she said. “Though if I'm being honest, I most certainly would. I'd be all over that guy like white on rice, baby.”

I laughed, turning my attention back to Tabitha. I couldn't keep staring at the sexy man in the tight jeans. I feared that if did, I might give in and do something stupid. Something I might come to regret later. Like actually talk to him – because where would we go from there? And I couldn't do that. My dad had made it clear that no matter what, I had to behave myself. I had to make this marriage happen. He said it would be the best thing for the family – and I always had to put the family first. At least, in his opinion.

I sighed and took a sip of my drink, trying to wash away the images of the man from my mind. Tabitha though, continued to stare at him without the slightest trace of shame.

“If you like him so much, why don't you talk to him, Tabby? You're a free agent. It's not like you have a boyfriend or anything.”

It was meant to be a joke, but as soon as I said it, I saw the look of hurt in her eyes and instantly regretted saying anything at all.

“Sorry, I didn't – ”

“No, we can't all be as blessed as you, Emilia,” Tabitha said, rolling her eyes, the hurt in her eyes replaced by anger.

I couldn't believe she'd said that. She knew exactly how I felt about being married off to Tony. Knew how I felt about him – or how I didn't feel about him.

“Blessed?” I snapped. “You call being forced into a marriage that I want no part of, with a man I can't be in the same room with without feeling sick to my stomach being 'blessed'?”

“Aww come on, Tony's not so bad,” she said. “He's nice on the eyes – for an older man. And he's loaded.You're not going to want for anything, Emilia. Your every want, whim, and desire is going to be fulfilled. It could be worse.”

Could be worse. I wanted to scream. It didn't seem so bad to her because it wasn't Tabitha being forced to marry a man almost the same age as her father. Maybe some people could happily marry a man they didn't love or care for, maybe some women only wanted financial security and nice things, but I wasn't one of those women.

Growing up, I knew my father would likely have a say in who I married. All family decisions ran through my father – but I'd always assumed he'd want me to be happy. Would let me choose the man I was going to spend my life with. Little did I know, I was not only not going to be able to pick the man I'd marry, but that my marriage would be nothing more than a bargaining chip in one of his goddamn business deals.

My marriage had nothing to do with love and everything to do with uniting two rival families together at last. It was a business transaction contingent on me marrying some man I barely knew and didn't even love.

Tabitha didn't get it. No matter how many times she said she understood how I felt, she never would. It wasn't her fault, but I wished she'd stop trying to make this all seem okay to me. She wasn't involved in this life like I was. She more or less got to stay above the fray while still enjoying some of the perks of membership.

Tabitha was part of our family – distantly – meaning, she had freedoms I'd never get to enjoy. And to her, it was all about the money. All about enjoying the finer things in life. She got to enjoy those things without having to worry about something like being married off to a stranger because my family had all the money and wealth and power.

She thought because I never wanted for anything, my life was ideal, and yet – what I wouldn't give for the freedom to be able to walk over to the blue-eyed stranger and strike up a conversation with him. Like any normal girl would.

Like Tabitha could.

“I'll be right back,” I said, and before Tabitha could insinuate that I was heading over to flirt, I cut her off with a glare and added, “I'm just going to the bathroom, that's all.”

To get to the bathroom though, I'd have to walk back behind the pool tables – which made things a little awkward. Which meand that I'd have to walk by the guy who was staring at me – the guy Tabitha was helpfully suggesting I hook up with.

As I neared the pool tables, I looked back at Tabitha who gave me a thumbs up and a pantomimed the motion for giving a blow job. And even though I tried not to laugh at her – because that would only encourage her – I couldn't help it. She was my best friend after all – for better or worse. I couldn't contain my grin and shook my head as I walked toward the bathroom, making sure to not look at the man as I passed him by. I kept my eyes straight ahead and I walked fast, making it to my destination without so much as a catcall, an offer to buy me a beer, or even a polite hello. Which was a relief – and simultaneously, a bit disappointing.

Stepping inside the restroom, I locked the door behind me and took a deep breath as I leaned against the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. I didn't really need to use the toilet, I just needed to step away from Tabitha and clear my head. I loved my best friend to bits, but this whole thing with Tony was starting to cause a little friction between us that had never existed before. She thought I was lucky as hell to be getting a man as loaded as he was. I disagreed. Vehemently. It was my life and I didn't want this for myself.

But I was being required to take one for the team. Or as my dad always said, I was being required to “do it for the family.”

Reaching into my purse, I pulled out some lipstick and touched up my makeup. Not that I needed to make myself look extra sexy. I was there for a drink with my friend, not to impress anybody – okay, so maybe I liked the attention some guys lavished on me. I could be a little vain, I could admit that. And it felt good, flattering, to have men pay attention to me. I knew it wouldn't go anywhere, but I liked the attention from the guy, shoot me.

Taking another deep breath, I decided to stop staring at my reflection and to get back out to the table with Tabitha and finish my drink. With any luck, I though I could slip out sooner rather than later. Not that I didn't enjoy our little girl's nights out together, but things between us had changed a lot lately and I sometimes had a hard time being around her. Especially when she went on and on about how great my life was. And all things considered, being tied down to a man I didn't love didn't help matters in my own mind either.

Someone banged on the door, startling me and nearly dropped my lipstick.

“Emelia? You still in there? Hurry up, I have to piss,” Tabitha said.

That's my best friend for ya – classy to the last. I dropped my lipstick back into my purse, turned and unlocked the door, switching places with Tabitha. She winked at me as she shut me out, quickly closing and locking the door. And it took me a moment to figure out why she was in such a hurry. Surely, she didn't have to go that badly. But as soon as I turned around to walk back to the table, I found myself face-to-face with the blue-eyed stranger.

“Emilia?” he said, a smile forming on this luscious lips.

He had an accent, but what sort of accent it was didn't register, not at first. British? Scottish? I didn't care because it sounded like pure honey falling from his lips when he spoke – especially when he said my name.

“Emilia,” he repeated. “What a beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling the color rise in my cheeks.

He was standing in front of me, making it hard to sneak past. I was desperate to get out of there and be away from him. There was a feeling like static electricity between us and our bodies were so close together in the confined space, I was terrified he was going to hear my heart pounding in my chest.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

“Uhhh,” I looked around, trying to find any possible route of escape, my body tingling and a fire erupting between my thighs. I had to get out of there. Quickly. “I really can't do this. See, I'm engaged to be married and – ”

“I know that,” he said, taking a long pull from his beer. “I know all about you Emilia Antonelli. All about you. In fact, I think I know more about you than you know about yourself.”

And that was the last thing I remembered before the world went dark.

DEACON

Chloroform. I hated to do that to a fine piece of ass like her, but it had to be done. It was the cleanest, most efficient method I knew to get her out of there. The last thing I could afford was to not chlorofom her and have some huge scene unfold in front of all the witnesses in the bar. I knew that to grab her, we had to act fast, while she was separated from her friend.

Thankfully, the perfect opportunity had finally presented itself.

Because I believed in planning meticulously, we'd already cleared out a path to the car through a back door. Everything was set and Emilia had finally given us the chance to put our plan into motion.

She lay limp in my arms and I needed to get her out of there before anybody became suspicious. A couple of people were nearby, looking at us with curiosity, rather than concern. So, I flashed them my most charming smile and shrugged my shoulders.

“She had too much to drink, I'm afraid. Looks like the party's over early,” I said to the onlookers who laughed and returned to their conversation.

We took Emilia out the back door and loaded her into the van we had waiting. We slid her in and slammed the door. Smooth as butter. Like I said, I planned meticulously and left nothing to chance.

“Damn. Who knew old man Antonelli had a fine ass daughter,” Sean said, climbing into the back of the van with her.

“Don't you fucking lay a hand on her,” I said. “She can't be harmed. Not a hair on her bloody head. That's the deal, alright?”

“Not even a hand, Deacon? Really?” Sean mocked. “Meaning I can't grope her tit or – ”

“Don't be a fuckin' pervert, Sean. She's out cold for fuck's sake. What in the hell is wrong with you?”

“That's about the only way he gets to touch a tit,” Colin said, climbing in and getting behind the wheel.

“Shut your dirty fucking mouth, Colin.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you two, shut the fuck up,” I snapped. “I almost envy Emilia here. All knocked out like she is, at least she can't hear you bickering like a couple a old women.”

Both men shut their traps without another word from me. Colin gave me an apologetic look and a slight shrug, but I was too busy keeping an eye on Sean in the back to really care. Kidnapping, murder, hell, even burglary – all fine with me. It was part of the job and I was very good at my job. A real professional.

But I drew the line at groping up an innocent girl when she was out cold. It was wrong on so many levels and I wouldn't tolerate that sort of shit. I was guilty of some heinous shit in my day, but I had to draw the line somewhere. That shit was not okay with me.

As I stared back at Sean, who was still practically drooling on the girl, I couldn't help but look down at Emilia. Sean was right about one thing – I had no idea she was as beautiful as she was. Rich, black hair contrasted with her soft, pale skin. She was a tiny little thing with delicate, feminine curves and had some amazingly perky breasts – which she showed off in a tight red dress.

Even from where I was sitting, I could see her ample cleavage and I had to admit, it was hard not to stare. I could see why Sean wanted to cop a feel – they were almost too perfect to be real. But then I looked at that sweet, angelic face and there was no way I was willing to do anything to abuse her – or let anybody else to it either.

Sean decided to speak again – which was probably a bad idea considering what he had to say. “So, why are you so protective of this asshole's daughter, eh? I mean, we're already on the old man's shitlist as it is. Why not scratch and itch and have some fun with her – ”

“Because it's not about her, asshole. My hatred for her father has nothing to do with her,” I roared. “She didn't ask to be born an Antonelli – she's innocent in all of this. And I'm not about to let you do something to her just because no other woman will fuck you. You have money, go to a fucking whore, asshole.”

“If she's innocent in all this,” Sean continued, “then why are we kidnapping her in the first place?”

“She's a bargaining chip,” I said, my patience wearing incredibly thin. “A bargaining chip and that's it. And I'll tell you this, nno harm will come to her while she's in my care. Do you hear me? Do you fucking understand?”

EMILIA

Voices were coming from the other room – or at least, I thought they were. The voices sounded distant at first, but as I started to wake up, I realized that they weren't in another room. They were actually coming from right beside me. Unfamiliar men were talking around me, and as a fear-fueled adrenaline coursed through my body, I tried to sit up and my head started spinning immediately.

“I'm going to get sick,” I said, not realizing I'd said it out loud.

Someone – one of the men from the bar – put a trash can beside the bed. I leaned forward, but didn't throw up. I just sat there for a few moments, trying to recover my senses as I tried to figure out where in the hell I was and who I was with. Bits and fragments of the evening were flashing through my mind, but I felt so fuzzy-brained right then that I was having trouble grabbing one and remembering the details.

One face in my jumble mass of memories stuck out to me though – the blue-eyed stranger from the bar. The one who'd been watching me. The one who'd struck up a conversation with me when Tabitha had kicked me out of the restroom. Slowly, the fragments were beginning to coalesce and it was all coming back to me.

Somehow, the stranger had known my full name. He'd said he knew all about me. But how? I'd never met him before in my life, I was sure of it. At first, I thought he might be British because of is accent. I'd been so freaked out and anxious to get away from him that I hadn't really stopped to analyze his accent. But as I thought about it a little harder, I realized he was Irish.

And once that little nugget of information clicked in my brain, I knew why they had me. Or at least I had a pretty good idea.

“I want to speak with Deacon Murphy,” I said, looking at the men in the room.

The men laughed, obviously amused by my demands.

“Oh you do, do ya?” said one of the men. “And what do ya think ya know about Deacon, love?”

“I know he's the head of the Irish mafia,” I said quietly, trying to keep my voice even – doing my best to keep it from trembling and letting them know just how scared I was. “I know that he's the one to talk to if I want to make a deal. Not little pissants like you.”

I saw anger color both of their faces, but I tried to remain strong. Tough. Not let them see me tremble and shake. The only language cretins like this knew or responded to were threats and force. If I showed them that I was unafraid of them, I would earn a measure of respect in their eyes. The trouble was, I was downright terrified and felt like I was barely holding that in check.

“And what if Deacon doesn't want to make a deal with ya, love?” the man said, leaning down and getting in my face.

The smell of whisky and stale cigarettes saturated the air between us, causing my stomach to roil once again. I almost wished I had gotten sick in that moment so I could have thrown up on the man. That would have been amusing for me, at least.

“I'm sure he will want to make a deal with my family,” I said, looking the man in the eye. “Or else my father will kill him.”

More laughter from the two other men. They thought it was hilarious – everyone except the blue-eyed man who watched me closely. He kept his distance, standing near the door, saying nothing, and merely watched.

“What are you staring at?” I asked him, putting some real fire into my voice. “Like what you see, huh? Well you better get a good, long look now while your pretty blue eyes are still intact, because if you don't let me out of here, my father – ”

The look on his face sent a chill down my spine. A predatory grin spread across his face as he slowly shook his head. The room grew suddenly quiet, everyone stopped what they were doing as the handsome stranger walked toward me. All eyes shifted to him as the man hunkered down, putting himself at eye-level with me.

“Your father will do what, Emilia?” he asked, his voice calm and quiet. “Go on then, I'd love to hear more about your father's plans for me and my guys.”

“Your guys?” I sputtered.

He nodded slowly, his smile no less unnerving.

“You said you wanted to speak with the boss,” the guy from earlier said. “You're lookin' right at him.”

“You're Deacon Murphy?” I asked.

“One and only, love,” he said.

“Don't call me love.”

“Would you prefer that I called you the soon to be Mrs. Tony Bellini?”

I cringed at the very mention of being called Mrs. Bellini like it was an involuntary reflex. At that point, it probably was. Even in the face of the man who'd just abducted me, I wanted to be as far away from any mention of that man as I could.

“Not yet,” I snapped. “It's just Emilia, thanks. As if you actually care what I'd like to be called.”

Deacon looked amused. “Emilia it is, then,” he said. “And hopefully we can make your stay with us as pleasant as possible. There's no reason for this to be adversarial or unpleasant. But that is all going to depend on what your father – and your fiance – are willing to do. If they play ball with us, it's all good, lo – Emilia. If they don't... ”

He let the sentence trail off, the threat more than implied. A cold finger of fear slid its way down my spine and it took everything in me to suppress the shiver. I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing fear in me.

“And what exactly is it that you want them to do for you?” I asked.

Deacon stood, shaking his head. “Oh no, I'm not going to show my hand this early in the game, love,” he said. “You'll just have to wait and see. I've heard you like surprises – well, at least surprises you're not expected to marry – so, I'll just leave you in suspense a wee while longer.”

“Don't call me – ”

One of the other guys reached his hand out to slap me, but Deacon caught it before it landed on my face. With a scowl, he turned and pushed the other man back, hard, throwing him into the wall with so much force, it rattled the pictures hanging on it. I thought the frame might come down, but it somehow stayed on the wall.

Deacon looked at one of the other men – a tall, very large redheaded man – and said, “Don't you fuckin' touch her, you hear me? There better not be a hair out of place or a scratch upon her delicate little body. Not unless I say so – got it?”

The red-haired man scowled and held back, but he didn't speak again. He simply nodded and turned away from Deacon.

“Colin, please restrain her now that she's awake – ”

“Restrain me? What?” I almost shouted. “Are you afraid of a tiny little girl or something? Afraid I might get the drop on your morons here?”

“One thing I've learned is that one can never be too careful, Emmy,” Deacon said.

“Don't call me Emmy either, asshole,” I said.

Only my closest friends and family could get away with calling me that. Though, as I looked at the glint of amusement in his eyes, I had a feeling he used my nickname on purpose. It was to make a point – maybe as a way to prove he knew all about me. I glared at him, hate filling my eyes as we gazed upon each other.

“He can call you whatever the fuck he wants, sweetheart,” the man referred to as Colin said.

“Like hell he can,” I muttered, mostly to myself.

Colin reached for the restraints and started to tie me down while Deacon watched. I saw him flinch as I struggled and fought back against the man trying to tie my hands down. For a big, tough guy, he didn't like to see them getting rough with me, that was for sure. I filed it away in my mind, thinking that maybe it was a chip I could somehow cash in later. It was a weakness in him and I needed to find all of his weaknesses in order to better exploit them and improve my odds of getting out of there whole and intact.

“How long are you going to keep me here?” I asked. “What if I have to go to the bathroom or something?”

“Tell the guards,” Deacon said. “We'll get ya a bedpan.”

“Please, no – ” I begged – being forced to use a bedpan would be the ultimate form of humiliation and degredation.

For the first time, I felt real fear. I was tied down to a bed, surrounded by the enemy – and I had no idea how I was going to get out of there alive. My father would likely be looking for me, sure, but would he find me in time?

“How long do you intend to keep me here?”

“As long as is necessary, I'm afraid,” Deacon said, turning toward the door. “Hopefully your daddy and fiance cooperate quickly. If they do, you can probably be home in time for breakfast tomorrow.”

I had a feeling that whatever he wanted from my father wasn't going to be that easy. Nothing with guys like these ever was. Whatever these guys were after, my family wouldn't hand it over so easily I was afraid.

“And what if they don't cooperate?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He looked at me for a long moment, something inscrutable passing behind his eyes – something that chilled me to the very bone.

“We'll cross that bridge when we get there,” he said.

DEACON

Once she was restrained, I sent the others out of the room. I sat on a chair in the corner and watched her, waited for her to say something. Anything, really. I thought she'd want some answers or have some questions – but she just stared at me with eyes filled with hate. It was just me and her, and for the longest time, she wouldn't even speak to me.

“I know what you want. Or rather, what you don't want,” she said to me after some time of petulant silence. “And I can get it for you. But I need to speak to my father first.”

I tried not to laugh. “Oh, if only it were that easy, Emelia.”

“It can be that easy,” she said, looking over at me, her eyes large and taking up most her face. “Do you think I really want to marry Tony Bellini? Do you think that was my choice? I'd do anything to get out of that engagement. Believe me, we're on the same page here.”

My ears perked up. “Anything, huh? You'd go against your family and work with the enemy? All to avoid marrying a man most women would sell their soul to be with?”

“I don't love him,” she whispered.

“You don't love him?” I scoffed. “Oh that's so incredibly sweet, Emmy. And so incredibly naive.”

“Look, I didn't ask for any of this. I never asked to be auctioned off like a damn prize horse,” she said. “I didn't ask to be born into this family or this life. I just want to be left alone. I just want to do my own thing.”

Her sweetness and naivete were almost too much. It was actually downright adorable. I couldn't help but stare at her and gaze into those doe eyes. But then my eyes began to wander and slowly, deliberately, moved down the length of her torso. While her face made her look much younger than she was, she most definitely had the body of a grown woman. With her perky boobs and those curves in all the right places, there was no mistaking her for anything but a woman. I could see why someone like Bellini would be anxious to wed that gorgeous little piece of tail.

As I let my eyes roam all over her body, I started to think that she was still a virgin. Pure and sweet and ripe for the taking. All of this talk of love and romance made me think she was waiting for The One, that she was saving herself for her Prince Charming. If only such things existed in the real world, then maybe she'd be able to wait for him to ride up on his white horse and sweep her off her feet. But the fact of the matter was that Prince Charming didn't exist, but with her wealthy and powerful family, her life was as close to an actual fairy tale as anything else in this world – and was as close as she was going to get.

“Why would you think I care who you marry?” I asked her, leaning in close.

She flinched away as I moved in probably a little too close. I could feel her breath against my face and caught a faint whiff of her perfume.

“Because once I marry Bellini, the alliance between our two families will have the power to take over the city,” she said. “The whole city. Including Irish territory. Which would be very bad news for you.”

“How do you know all this?”

Perhaps I shouldn't have been, but I was alarmed that she was so well informed. But tried to play it off, not wanting to see that she'd scored a direct hit. She was obviously a smart girl. I'd underestimated her – a mistake I wouldn't make again.

“I am the heir to my family name,” she said quietly. “Do you think I don't listen? That I'm not privvy to certain details and plans?”

Most women in her position wouldn't care about the politics. They cared about the money, the shopping, the nice clothes and raising children that would eventually take over the family name themselves one day. They left the politics up to the men and concentrated on more banal pursuits. At least, in my experience they did.

But clearly not Emelia. Or not completely, at least. Still, she seemed to have an awful lot of naive thoughts running through her head and ddin't understand just how cutthroat this life could be. Especially if she thought we could team up and help one another. That was most definitely not going to happen.

I could think of plenty of things I'd like to do with this little hottie, but working out a deal with her? Not happening. She was right about teaming up being a mutually beneficial proposition, but I wouldn't risk it because there was no way I could trust her.

Sitting back in my chair, I watched her carefully. “Your father and your fiance will be hearing my demands shortly,” I said.

“And you think my father is the kind of man who takes well to demands?” she said.

No, but I'm sure you do, I thought to myself. Imagining that tight little body bent over the bed, her skirt raised and her ass cheeks bared for me, waiting, her tight little opening, glistening and ready...

“When it comes to his precious little girl, one would hope that he will listen to what I have to say,” I said. I pulled out my phone. “Here, why wait? Let's see what your father has to say on the matter, shall we? Now's as good a time to call as any, since he's had a few hours to search for you – a search I can guarantee you was completely fruitless. And I will have to assume that he probably knows you're missing by now. I would hope that Tabitha would have sounded the alarm when she came out of the bathroom to find you gone.”

Emilia scowled at me as I punched in the numbers and called her father. The man on the other end of the phone answered on the first ring, and he knew who I was – though perhaps, not by name just yet. But he seemed to know exactly why I was calling – instantly. Clearly, word had gotten around quite quickly. Which pleased me greatly.

“You son of a bitch, Deacon,” he roared. “What have you done with my daughter?”

“Your daughter is fine. She and I were just having a little fun together – weren't we, Emmy?”

I winked at Emilia and she spat at me. I tamped down the momentary flash of anger and wiped away the saliva that was slowly running down my cheek. The girl was a spitfire, that was for sure.

“Let me talk to her,” he said.

“Patience, mate. You'll get to talk to her soon enough, but not just yet,” I said. “First, you need to hear me out. Because what you do next can have very real, very serious consequences for your beautiful little girl. And I have to say in all honesty, she's even more beautiful than I imagined. All that dark hair and pale skin, and those tits... ” I let out a low whistle of approval. “I'm sure her fiance is dying to get his hands on those perky little things.”

“Let me talk to my daughter, asshole,” he said, his voice low and fierce.

“Only if you ask nicely,” I taunted.

“How do I know she's not dead already?” he asked me. “I refuse to say anymore or even deal with you until I have proof that she's alive and unharmed.”

I rolled my eyes – her father was not a fun man to play with. He didn't enjoy the game like I did. Of course, knowing I had his little girl probably wasn't the best way to start off a fun and frivolous conversation. But, whatever.

“Fine, talk to your darling Emmy,” I said.

I held the phone out toward Emelia, putting it on speaker and said, “Talk to daddy, honey.”

“Emelia, are you okay?” I heard him say on the other end of the line.

“I'm fine, daddy,” she said, her voice low – almost too low. I feared he might not be able to hear here from there, so I moved closer.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“No, I'm not hurt. Not at all, I'm fine,” she said, tear welling up in her eyes.

She held them back though. No screaming, no crying, no begging for her father to find her. This girl wasn't like most others. She was tough and wasn't going to give me the satisfaction. I had to admire that. Her eyes widened slightly though, when I took the gun out of the holster beneath my jacket – just the sort of reaction I'd been hoping for.

“Stay strong, Emelia,” he said quietly. “We'll get you back.”

I turned off the speaker and put the phone back to my ear. “Only if you do as I say, Antonelli. Remember that. I have your daughter, and if you ever want to see her again – in one piece – you will do exactly as I say.”

“I will fucking kill you for this,” he growled. “Mark my words, I'm going to make you suffer. You're going to wish you were dead long before I'm through with you.”

“Let's not waste time with petty, idle threats you can't back up. Not without endangering the well being of your gorgeous little girl here,” I said, smirking to myself “So, let's cut the bullshit, mate. Are you ready to make a deal? Or should I start sending you beautiful little Emmy one piece at a time? Though, I gotta tell you, it would be such a waste of such an amazing piece of tail.”

“Show some fucking respect, you son of a bitch,” he growled. “That's my daughter you're talking about. Now, what in the hell do you want from me?”

“Oh, I think you already know what I want, Antonelli.”

“I can't break the deal with Bellini. You know that,” he said. “That's something I simply can't do. The deal has already been made and what's done is done.”

“Oh is it? That's really too bad then. Because if that's the case, might as well put this gun in my hand to good use right now,” I replied. “No need to keep Emmy around if there's nothing you can do to better her circumstances.”

“Bellini won't back down,” Antonelli said, almost pleading. “His family has put everything into this deal, and they won't back out of it so easily. Not even for Emelia.”

“Well then, I guess you better say goodbye to your darling daughter,” I said, cocking my gun and hoping he'd hear it through the phone. “Because her brains are about to be splattered all over the wall – ”

“No, wait, please,” Antonelli said. “I'm begging you. Just don't.”

Emelia didn't say anything. She looked at me with her doe eyes, as if she knew I wouldn't pull the trigger. It was as if she was daring me to do it. Daring me to blow her pretty little brains out. Something in her eyes was calling my bluff – and she was right. But I couldn't let her – or her father – know that I wouldn't. A bluff was only good so long as the people you were bluffing believed you were capable of anything – no matter how monstrous.

“Oh, so maybe there is something you can do after all?” I asked.

“Let's talk about this, Deacon,” he said. “I'm willing to make a deal with you. We'll figure something out. Just don't hurt my daughter.”

“You want a deal with me, Antonelli? Kill Tony Bellini and deliver his head to me in a box in exchange for your daughter's life and well being. Then we'll have a deal.”

I hung up the phone and looked over at Emelia. Smiling, I said, “Well, looks like you may not have to marry Tony after all. You're welcome, Emmy. See? I'm not such a bad guy after all, am I?”

EMELIA

I didn't know why or how, but I knew Deacon wasn't going to hurt me. I knew he wasn't going to pull that trigger. Somehow – call it a sixth sense, woman's intuituion, or whatever you like – but I knew that it was all for show. He was bluffing my father, sure, but I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he wasn't really going to kill me.

“Granted, I wouldn't lose a wink of sleep if he was gone forever, but killing Tony is going to start a war between the families,” I said softly. “It's one thing to break up our engagement – but to actually kill a member of the Bellini family is an act of war. And it's one they won't overlook easily, Deacon. A lot of people are going to die if that happens.”

Deacon smirked as he leaned back in his chair, staring at me with those blue eyes of his. I felt myself drawn into those eyes every damn time he looked at me, and I couldn't look away. Even after all this shit he was putting me through, I couldn't bring myself to not meet his gaze. It was heady. Intoxicating. Compelling. And I hated myself for feeling so drawn into them.

“Oh cheer up, buttercup. Don't look so sad and scandalized. If you think about it, I'm doing you a huge favor and you know it. You didn't want to marry him, and now you won't have to. I don't want the families uniting and they won't be able to. I'd call this a win-win for both of us.”

I swallowed the lump growing in my throat before I spoke. “Yes, but I didn't want anyone to be killed just to get me out of a goddamned wedding. Jesus, Deacon, I don't want to marry the man, but I also don't want him dead. And the backlash – you don't think it'll blow back on your guys too?”

He shrugged. “Chaos is good for business,” he said. “Not that I need to explain myself to you, Emmy, but the Irish will come out ahead with this, mark my words. Like a phoenix from the ashes, we'll rise bigger, stronger, and fiercer than before. Besides, how can I be sure all ties between the Bellini's and Antonelli's are broken without at least one dead body between 'em? That sort of blood feud can stretch on for generations. It's in my best interest to keep both families at each other's throats for the foreseeable future.”

He was enjoying this. He was actually enjoying this sick little game he'd devised. I'd overheard people talking about Deacon Murphy before – they all talked about how he was cunning, smart and extremely dangerous. They spoke in hushed tones, like he was going to materialize out of thin air right there behind them. When people spoke of Deacon, it was with an air of respect – and fear.

I knew he was a force to be reckoned one, knew he was someone to fear. But even as I sat in front of him, restrained and completely under his control, I found that I actually didn't fear him. Instead, I felt myself drawn to him in ways that didn't make sense. Maybe it was because of how I'd grown up and the fact that I'd been around dangerous men my entire life, but his ruthlessness turned me on. I was horrified and appalled to admit that to myself, but – there it was. Out in the open. And I had no idea what to do with the horrible conflicting emotions roiling around inside of me.

“You're smart, Deacon,” I said. “I have to give you that. Smarter than my father, maybe. But he's not going to kill Bellini. He will come for me first, and kill you in the process. This little game you're running is doomed to fail because he's been in the game a lot longer and knows the rules better than you do.”

“And what if he does?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, this is what we do, isn't it? We win some and we lose some. But I'll tell you something, love – we never get ahead in this game if we're not willing to put our very lives on the line. The stakes have got to be high to make victory worth claiming. And personally, I can't think of any stakes higher than one's own life. This is why I do what I do, Emelia. This is why I'm the leader of this organization. Because I'm not afraid of your father or the Bellinis. And I'm not afraid of war. Hell, I'm not even afraid of death.”

“Not afraid of death?” I asked, shaking my head. “You're crazy.”

“Maybe,” he said, giving me a small shrug. “I'm not denying that. But I think to be a good leader in this life, you have to be a little crazy to do the things we do.”

Even though I knew I shouldn't let it happen, I felt a smile forming on my lips. I couldn't stop it from spreading across my face and there was something in me that was mortified that I couldn't stifle the soft laugh escaping my throat at the ridiculousness of all this – of me being here strapped down to a bed, his prisoner. The ridiculousness of Deacon and me talking, and about me caring whether or not this man – my family's sworn enemy – would live or die. Because he was too beautiful to die. Too young and beautiful and smart. It would be an absolute waste.

But if he were killed in this war he was dying to start, it would also be of his own doing. And there was nothing I could do to stop that.

“You almost look sad, Emmy,” he said, sounding surprised.

“Maybe I am,” I said. “Because I think all life is sacred – including yours. Even Tony's. I may not like him – or you – but that doesn't mean I want to see either of you wind up with two in the back of the head.”

“I love how I came before Tony,” he said with a wink. “I think I might be growing on ya. Another lassie done in by the Irish charm.”

Maybe a little – but I sure as hell wasn't going to encourage him by admitting that.

Deacon walked over to me and stood over the bed, towring over me. He stared down at me lying helpless in the bed before him. My breath caught in my throat and my heart started to race as I feared what he might do to me. Not because I thought he would hurt me. No, I was still convinced he wouldn't actually do anything to hurt me. But I was becoming even more fearful of him because I worried that if he touched me or kissed me or tried to have his way with me, I'd end up going along with it willingly.

And I knew how fucked up that was.

But instead of doing any of that, he surprised me by reaching the restraints that held me to the bed. He untied and then removed them altogether. First my right, then my left. Rubbing my wrists – which were nearly raw thanks to the restraints being way too tight – I looked up at him, confused.

“But why?” I asked.

“Honestly? Because I hate seeing you like that,” he said. “You're much too beautiful to be tied to a bed like some hostage in a trailer park or something.”

“But I am a hostage,” I said.

“Yes, but you don't have to be treated like one,” I said. “Not if I can help it – and not if you can help yourself. Just promise me, Emmy, that you won't do anything stupid? Because I can't promise your safety if you do anything stupid. And I don't want to have to tie you back down here. You deserve to be treated with a little more dignity than that.”

I nodded, biting my lip as I stared up into his dreamy face. I wanted to slap myself for getting lost in his eyes, for even having these hot little fantasy flashes about him in my mind. He was still holding me hostage – but there was something about him that drew me in and held me there.

But, this was the big, bad, scary man I'd heard stories about. That I'd been taught to hate and fear. But as I looked at him and saw something that looked like compassion in his eyes, I found all of those terrible stories I'd heard about him hard to believe. I was finding it hard to believe I had any reason to fear him at all.

But what I did fear was the need and desire growing inside of me. As I looked up at him, a powerful sense of lust and want gnawed at me from the inside. Never before had I stared at a man so breathtakingly beautiful – and so profoundly dangerous at the same time. I'd never come across a man like Deacon who made my heart race. It was so wrong, which was why I pushed those feelings back and tried to focus all of my attention on the situation at hand and the impact his demands would have upon my family moving forward.

“So what's next?” I asked, looking up into his eyes. “What's your play here?”

“It's not my play to make. The ball is inyour father's court. For now, we wait it out,” he said, sitting back down in his chair across the room from the bed.

“And you're going to personally stay here with me? Why not have one of the others guard me since you're the big boss?”

Yes, I was apprehensive about spending so much time with Deacon. I thought it was a bad, terrible idea considering how incredibly attractive I found him. But at the same time, I was scared of the other guys. While I knew for a fact that Deacon would never do anything to hurt me, I wasn't so sure about his guys.

“Because I don't trust anyone else,” he said, looking me up and down, “In their minds, you're a fine piece of meat and they're starving. The temptation would be too great to do something – regrettable – if I left you alone with them. I'm not going to take that chance with you.”

“Oh what? So you're not tempted?” I asked, batting my lashes as I spoke.

“What warm-blooded man wouldn't be?” he said, licking his lips. “But I can control my impulses. That's another reason why I'm the big boss.”

Part of me wasn't so sure I wanted him to control his impulses – and I knew which part of me was hoping for that. But I scolded myself for even having those kinds of thoughts. He was my kidnapper. He was determined to start a war that was going to kill a lot of people – including people I knew and cared about. There was no way in hell I should be having warm, fuzzy feelings for that man. And I sure as hell shouldn't be secretly hoping that he'd just take me right then and right there.

There was a knock on the door, followed by a voice a moment later. “Deacon, we need to move. Now. Antonelli's men were spotted nearby. I don't know how, but somehow they found us.”

“Move?” I asked.

Without a word, Deacon took my arm and yanked me off the bed and onto my feet before I could get an answer. He didn't have a chance to restrain me, but the grip of his hand on my arm was enough to stop me from fighting too much. He was a strong, powerful man and he pulled me out of the room and into a hallway. We quickly walked down the corridor, his men – all of the brandishing automatic weapons – surrounding us.

“What the fuck happened, Colin?” he asked, glaring at the man next to us.

“I dunno. I think maybe he traced your call,” Colin said.

“Fuck. I knew he kept me on the line too long. Rookie fucking mistake. I know better than that.”

Deacon pulled out his cell phone and dropped it into the trash can as we walked out a back door. There were cars waiting in a parking lot and Deacon pushed me into the backseat of one of them – a black SUV. He climbed in beside me and slammed the door as Colin got in the front and we took off, the tires on the vehicles chirping on the pavement.

Throughout this whole ordea., I could have fought and tried to get free. I could have caused a scene that maybe delayed Deacon long enough that my father's men may have found us. But I hadn't. It surprised me that I'd gone along with Deacon without any resistance whatsoever. I was even more surprised to realize that it hadn't even occurred to me to resist.

Maybe I was in shock over everything that was happening. Maybe it was fear, since I was surrounded by Deacon's men – all of whom were armed to the teeth. I didn't know why, but I didn't struggle against Deacon's grip on my arm in the least. I'd stayed right by Deacon's side the entire time.

What did that all mean?

EMELIA

I don't know where we were, but I knew we were somewhere outside of the city. Judging by the desolation around us, we were far away from civilization altogether. It looked like we were hidden away in the depths of a forest, of some kind. The cars all pulled up to a little log cabin set out in the middle of nowhere.

It was the perfect hiding spot and I had to wonder why they hadn't brought me there in the first place. Or maybe when the war between my family and Tony's family broke out, Deacon had planned to bring me out there all along and the presence of my father's men on their tail had only accelerated that plan.

“Make yourself at home, Emmy. You and I will be staying here for a few days,” Deacon said, walking me inside the cabin and flipping on a light. “Hope you like camping. It's a bit rustic, but it'll keep us warm and dry.”

The cabin was small, but a lot nicer inside than I'd expected it to be. It was definitely rustic and not one of those million dollar luxurious cabins, but it wasn't a dump, either. There was a small living area, an even smaller kitchen area and a loft upstairs with a large bed. All of the windows were barred, however, and there was only one exit that I could see – the front door. Which was large and sturdy with multiple locks attached to it.

Deacon saw me eyeing the exit and grinned.

“You're not getting out of here, Emelia. Don't even think about it,” he said, smirking as he spoke. “And even if you did somehow manage to escape, there's nothing around us for miles and miles. You'd just wind up lost and alone in the woods until you died of hypothermia.”

“I know,” I said softly. “I'm not stupid.”

I noticed that it was just Deacon, myself and Colin at the cabin. The others had all scattered and were nowhere to be seen. Deacon looked at me and grinned, as if he was reading my thoughts.

“I figured if we all went in different directions, your father's men wouldn't know who to follow,” he said. “Your father is a little more resourceful than I'd given him credit for, so I had to throw him off the trail. Not that I needed to worry too much though, this place is my most secret hideout.”

“Oh? Is this were you bring all your whores?” I taunted.

Colin snickered, but then stopped suddenly when Deacon glared at him.

“Only the prettiest ones, like you,” he said, winking at me.

“I'm not your – ”

“I get it, Emelia. You're not going to roll over and take it. Fine, I get it. But I'm getting really tired of your posturing. It's getting old.” Deacon rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Colin. “You still here?”

Colin looked confused “Where else am I supposed to go?”

“For fuck's sake, Colin, I don't know. Maybe back into Chicago and keep an eye on things for me back there.”

“But you're going to stay out here? Alone?”

Deacon let out a long, irritated sounding sigh and shook his head. Judging by the way he clenched his fists at his side, I was sure he might punch Colin's lights out. But he took a deep breath and managed to hold it together – but probably just barely. He looked so ready to explode, I honestly wan't sure how he'd kept it in check.

“I'm the only one I trust to watch over her and make sure she's not hurt, deflowered, or some shit when we give her back to her daddy dearest.” he growled.

Deacon rubbed his temples, cursing under his breath before continuing, in a calmer voice. “Listen, Colin, I need you on the ground in the city. I need you to be my eyes and ears. You're the only one I trust for the job.”

“You don't need backup?” Colin asked, cutting a glance at me and raising an eyebrow.

“What? Against her? Please – ” Deacon huffed. “Now go on and get back to the city before you piss me off, mate.”

Colin cast one last look at me – as if he was warning me with his eyes – before turning and walking out the door, leaving me alone with Deacon. I stared at my captor, watching him carefully as he listened to Colin's car as it pulled away from the cabin and headed back down the long, dirt road that would take him to the highway.

“Tell me something, Deacon – why do you really want to be alone with me?” I stared at him with wide-eyes, batting my eyelashes. “Something on your mind?”

Yes, I knew he was attracted to me and that by flirting with him, I was playing a dangerous game – a game I couldn't afford to lose. And maybe I shouldn't have toyed with him the way I did, but I couldn't help myself.

“I told you why,” he grumbled, letting go of my arm. “Now sit.”

“Are we really going to spend our days sitting and staring at each other?” I asked, a hint of flirtatiousness in my voice.

“Well, is there something you'd rather be doing, princess?” He was flirting right back.

“You know,” I said, taking a seat and crossing my legs slowly and very deliberately, “For a kidnapper, you're not really so bad.”

Deacon sat across from me in the chair, leaning forward and staring into my eyes – if he'd even noticed the way I'd crossed my legs, he gave no sign of it.

“Well, I don't hurt innocent women and I won't let anybody in my employ hurt them either,” he said flatly. “It goes against everything I stand for.”

Raising an eyebrow, I laughed. “And you think I'm innocent, do you?”

“Far more innocent and naive than you even realize, love,” he said. “It's absolutely adorable though. But, by all means, keep playing the sexy, young vixen card. I'm enjoying the show and it passes the time.”

EMELIA

Days had gone by, and except for Colin and Deacon communicating with one another, there wasn't an overabundance of conversation in that cabin. There was some, but he spent more time in a sullen silence than engaged with me. Even more disconcerting to me, there was no news from my father yet. At least, none that Deacon shared with me.

Except for the fact that I was being held against my will, staying at the cabin wasn't half-bad actually. In a weird way, it almost felt like a vacation – at least, if you forgot about being restrained at night and the lack of any sharp objects within my reach. He was so untrusting of that that even silverware was kept locked up and inventoried harder than a bank vault.

But I had to admit, all things considered, it wasn't half bad. When we did talk, the flirting with Deacon continued and even grew a little heated at times. Sometimes I think out of boredom, we were just trying to press each other's buttons, see how far the other would take it. I knew Deacon would fuck me in a heartbeat if I offered myself up though – he was just that kind of man.

But he was testing me, and he seemed to be enjoying the little game of chicken we were playing. How far would the sweet, innocent, Emelia Antonelli go?

The problem with this little game though, was that I wasn't sure how far I would actually go. The closer he got to kissing me, for instance, the more I found myself yearning for him to do it. He was a powerfully attractive and seductive man and something in me longed for him.

I knew that this was getting dangerous and because of that, I was really hoping Colin could work something out with my father sooner rather than later. But the other part of me hoped I would have more time with Deacon in the cabin. Because the truth of the matter – as terrible as it was to think it – was that Deacon Murphy was probably my ideal man, in most every single way. Ideal, except for the fact that he was technically the enemy. Though, I was so caught up in him that the enemy part didn't even really register on my heart or in my head.

“Do you think my father will do it?” I asked him. “Do what you asked him to do?”

“Do you want him to?” Deacon asked me, staring straight at me with a serious look on his face. “So that you no longer have to marry Tony?”

I looked down at my hands, which were clasped in my lap, but I couldn't find the words. No, I didn't want someone to die because of me. But truth be told, Tony wasn't a good man and I didn't like him – let alone love him. And that was something I never saw changing.

I really didn't want to be married to him, to sleep with him every single night, to have his children. I didn't want anything to do with him. Even if in the end, I was forced to marry him, I couldn't imagine that I'd saved my virginity all these years just to be given away to a man as part of a goddamn business deal.

“I want to get out of the marriage, yes. But I don't want anyone to die because of it,” I said softly. “I don't want him killed, I just don't want to marry him.”

The tears welled up in my eyes as I remembered the nights we'd already spent together – the way his filthy hands tried to pull off my clothing, his terrible smelling breath, the leathery feel of his skin. I remembered his utter insistence that I fuck him even I told him many, many times that I was saving myself for our wedding night. He tried, hard, to convince me otherwise, but I'd always managed to push him off me. But once we were married, I'd have no excuses. I'd have to give myself to him whether I liked it or not. The mere thought of it sent waves of revulsion through me.

I looked back up at Deacon who was watching me closely, but not saying a word. If I expected him to comfort me, I was out of luck. He didn't seem to be the warm, comforting, warm and fuzzy type. At least, not to me.

Wiping my eyes on my sleeve, I asked, “Mind if I lie down for a bit?”

“We just woke up about an hour ago,” he said.

“Not like there's much else to do in this god forsaken place,” I muttered.

“I can think of a few things,” he said with a smile.

And as I looked at his glittering eyes and that roguish smile, it hit me – this was my chance to make my own choices. This was my chance to not let my father – or Tony – decide what I could do and who I could be with. Even if Deacon's plans failed and I had no choice but to marry Tony, at least I had this one moment to take control of myself and make my own choices for a change. At least I had the opportunity to give myself to someone because I wanted to – not because I was being required to as the terms of some business obligation.

I had this one moment to just be myself and carve a little slice of happiness out of this world and my life for my own.

“Well then – maybe you'd care to join me upstairs?” I asked, my voice was barely more than a whisper as I stared across at Deacon.

He raised an eyebrow and and looked at me for a long moment before laughing almost hysterically.

“Damn. That was a good one, love,” he said. “You almost had me. I almost believed ya for a second, until I remembered what a good lil girl you are.”

Standing up, I walked over to where Deacon was sitting in the chair, staring at me with those deep, blue eyes of his. Never taking my eyes off of him, I straddled him in the chair, sitting down in his lap, one leg on each side of him. I felt his erection pressing into my warm, suddenly very wet center – I knew he wanted it. And judging by the fire burning between my thighs, so did I.

His laugh was a little nervous and he was looking anywhere but into my eyes. I could tell that he was trying so hard to be on his best behavior because he wasn't like the other men in the Irish mob I'd encountered – he had morals and values. And his values told him that taking advantage of girls like me – in the position he had me in – was wrong.

But what if I wanted him to take advantage of me? Was it wrong in that case? Would that go against his morals and values? Would it go against mine? I didn't know. About the only thing I was sure of, was that I was tired of other people controlling my life.

“Maybe I'm tired of being such a good girl, Deacon,” I said, softly pressing my lips to his.

He didn't pull away, but he didn't kiss me back either. I pushed my long hair over my shoulder and lowered myself so I could run the tip of my tongue along his neck, taking in his musky, manly scent. Savoring it. He smelled so good, I didn't know why I'd never noticed it before, but his scent did wonders to my libido. It made the fire in me burn even brighter, almost involuntarily making me grind myself into him.

Deacon let out a muffled groan as I sucked and kissed his neck, but he didn't join in the fun. He was trying to be good, to not give into me. I could tell by how hard his cock was that he wanted to – he really wanted to. But he was trying to restrain his carnal urges. It looked like I was going to have to do more convincing.

Pulling back, I gave him my best, most sultry bedroom eyes.

“Please Deacon? Please let me have this?” I said. “Let me have you? If only this once?”

“Not that I don't appreciate the offer love, but what exactly are you hoping to get out of fucking me?”

“Honestly?”

He nodded. “I'd appreciate it.”

“I want to take back my body,” I said. “So if I have to marry that creep, at least I know I don't go him pure. That I kept something for myself. He doesn't deserve that, Deacon.”

“And I do?”

I shrugged. “If I'm being honest, I find you incredibly attractive at least. Him? Not in the least. I'll have to fake it with him and hope I don't throw up when he touches me. At least with you – well, I might have a chance at enjoying it. And I think I deserve that.”

Deacon smiled. “Oh, you'll enjoy it alright. I guarantee it.”

“Does this mean – ”

But before I could finish my question though, Deacon kissed me – hard – shoving his tongue into my mouth and literally taking my breath away. His hands were suddenly on my waist, pulling me down onto his stiff cock. His fingers dug into my flesh, pulling me down harder and even through my clothes, and I felt just how hard he was for me.

So hard and so large that I had to admit – it scared me a bit. Given that it was my first time, I was afraid that I would do something wrong or not be very good. Especially with a man like Deacon who had so much experience with sex under his belt. As I ground myself against him and he kissed me, a million questions swirled through my mind. Would I actually be able to take all of him into me? Would it hurt? Would he be gentle with me, I wondered?

With my heart racing and adrenaline surging through my body, I knew that I was about to find out. Reaching down, I fumbled with Deacon's pants, trying to unzip them while also straddling him – a feat I found more difficult than I'd first though.

“The movies make this look so much easier,” I said, color rushing to my cheeks.

Deacon stood, picking me up, and carried me over to the couch. My legs were wrapped around his body and when he laid me down, he came down with me.

“Here, let me take care of the hard stuff,” he said, removing my pants with one hand – to my ever-lasting amazement.

He moved down lower on my body, and I stared down at him, confused as to what he was doing at first, but when his mouth found my clit, it all made perfect sense. My body arched upward toward him as I gasped in surprise.

“Figured you'd need to be warmed up a bit, love,” he said.

Deacon went to town on my pussy, sucking and licking and doing all kinds of crazy things that drove me absolutely wild. I never knew a man could enjoy this so much – and surely, I'd never enjoyed myself so much – but I could tell that Deacon was having fun with it, taking his time and looking up at me with those icy blue eyes of his while he pleasured me.

“Deacon, oh God, Deacon,” I muttered, tossing my head from side-to-side.

There was a sensation low in my body, a tightness in the muscles of my vagina, as the swelling of pleasure started building up inside of me. It felt like I might explode, and I had to wonder if this is what it felt like to orgasm with a man. I'd pleasured myself in the past, sure, but this was different. This was – magical. And as that sensation built, I could tell that it was going to be far more powerful than any orgasm I'd ever given myself.

And as I reached the peak, Deacon grabbed onto my ass and lifted me closer to him, fucking me with his tongue as the spasms took control of my body as well as my mind. My entire body exploded in pleasure, wave after wave of electrical impulses sending me thrashing wildly on the couch, only held in place by Deacon's strong hands.

I was gasping and my body already felt a little wrung out, but Deacon wasn't done with me yet. Staring up at me with his face slick with my juices, he removed his pants.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“Yes, Deacon, yes,” I said, writhing on the couch, needing to feel him inside of me.

My first time shouldn't be with some old family friend. And it shouldn't be the consummation of a goddamn business deal. My first time should be with someone I was attracted to. Somebody I wanted. And regardless of how fucked up the situation was and why I was there in the first place, I found that I was deeply attracted to Deacon.

“I'm positive, Deacon!” I almost shouted. “I need you inside of me.”

Deacon lowered himself on top of me and I could feel his dick pressing directly against my opening. Squeezing my eyes shut, I braced for the pain they always told you about the first time you had sex, but he hesitated and didn't enter me. I opened my eyes, not understanding what was happening and why he wasn't inside of me yet.

I stared into those baby blue eyes and he smiled at me – actually smiled! And then he kissed me softly. Like he knew that this would be unpleasant for me, and he was going slow to minimize any pain. My kidnapper taking the time to consider my feelings? That shocked the hell out of me – and whether he'd intended to or not, told me a lot about the character of this man.

I'd used dildos before, so it wasn't like nothing had ever entered my body before The only difference was that I'd never put anything inside of me that was this large or this real before. As the tip of his cock pressed against my opening, I gasped. And when he slowly stretched me open as he slid into my, I groaned and bit my bottom lip hard. My eyes opened wide as he entered me, inch by glorious inch. There was a momentary flash of pain, but then a tsunami of pleasure that followed.

Judging by the look on his face, I could tell he wanted to thrust inside me, wanted to fuck me hard. But he moved slowly, deliberately taking his time, savoring the sensation of my tight pussy closing in around his cock.

Because of the wetness from both my natural juices and from his mouth, it hurt far less than I had expected it to. There was some pain, yes, but it was a good type of pain. Pleasure mixed with pain – which only heightened the sensations and made them all the more potent. I held onto Deacon and gasped as he entered me, finally filling me up completely.

Eyes wide, I stared up at him, shocked at the feeling of it all. I'd never had been filled up so completely, not like this. No toy had ever come close. And the warmth of his body, the warmth of his cock deep inside of me – it was all so surreal.

Slowly, Deacon started moving back and forth, in and out of me. Fucking me. He looked at me and I could see the concern in his eyes – he was worried about hurting me. I smiled at him and moaned as he kept moving in and out. This was it. I was having sex. I was giving myself to a man and it wasn't Tony.

Just knowing that made me feel so happy. So – victorious. In control. It was an empowering feeling that I relished every bit as much as the feeling of having Deacon's cock inside of me.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes shut tightly.

“Never been with a virgin before?” I asked.

“Not that I'm aware of,” he said, his voice more gravely than normal. “But damn, you feel amazing.”

And he felt amazing too. Once the initial pain wore off, the pleasure hit me with the force of a sledgehammer. Deacon was able to speed up, moving in and out of me with such ease, building a rhythm that worked for us. Our bodies were moving in unison – I rose up to meet each of his thrusts, burying him deeper inside of me. This was all so new. So raw. So magical. And yet, with Deacon, it felt so normal. So natural. So – perfect.

And when that familiar tingling started low in my belly, that heat rising up from below, I knew I wasn't going to last very much longer. He'd brought me to that brink again with such ease that I felt like I was still trying to catch my breath from the last orgasm he'd given me.

“I'm going to come, Deacon,” I cried out, digging my nailes into his back and writhing underneath him.

How he managed to keep himself inside of me while I squirmed so much, I had no clue. But he somehow managed to continue thrusting in and out of me, keeping a rhythm that was driving me absolutely crazy.

His breathing was growing more and more ragged though, and I sensed he was also close. As I came, my pussy clenched tighter around him and he let out a groan from deep within his chest, burying himself into me even deeper than before. I could feel him throbbing inside of me as he shuddered above me, his eyes shut tight as he filled me with his seed.

The warmth from his cum caused me to come again, and this time, I couldn't hold back the screams. I let it out, calling his name over and over again as together, we came.

EMELIA

Deacon and I spent a few more days in that cabin, and after we'd found a way to occupy ourselves, I really didn't care if we ever went back to the city. I knew it was wrong. I shouldn't be sleeping with the enemy. And I knew that I should go back to my family, but my father was the one who'd used me as property – essentially trading me as part of a business deal.

At least with Deacon, I knew what he was about. He'd been straight forward with me from the start. No, he wasn't a good guy, but he also treated me better than any man I'd ever met. He was considerate and in his way, kind. And that surprised me. It surprised me quite a lot, actually. Deacon never stopped surprising me.

“So have you heard from my father recently?” I asked him, staring over at him beside me in bed.

“Colin said they were talking yesterday,” he replied. “Said they were making plans for the deed to be done.”

“You mean Tony's murder?” I asked, cringing as I said it.

“Yes, if that's what you prefer to call it, then yes. Tony's murder.”

“And you honestly think my father is going to go through with this?” I asked. “That he's not going to weasel his way out of it somehow?”

Deacon shrugged and rolled over, pulling me closer. Neither one of us were wearing much clothing and I reveled in the sensation of his warm skin pressed to mine.

“You're his precious daughter. He'd do anything for you.”

I bit my lip and held back the harsh words I had for my father. I didn't think it was appropriate and tried to rein it in, but Deacon could see that something was bothering me. He stared at me with soulful, inquiring eyes.

“Or am I wrong about that?” he asked.

“I don't know, it's just – I feel like I'm only important to him as a bargaining chip these days. As a piece to be included in some business transaction. And if Tony is dead, I'm no good to him anyway, so maybe he'll find an alternative way to keep the deal on the table.”

“You really think your father cares so little for you?”

I shrugged, looking at the wall instead of Deacon. A complex mix of emotions churned within me. Yes, I thought he loved me. But I also thought he loved the fact that I could enhance his wealth and prestige even more.

“What am I supposed to think, Deacon? I was given away to Tony Bellini like – like some object, some commodity,” I said.

For the first time, my true anger started to come out and a rage that was dark and abiding began to bubble to the surface as I let it all out.

“I'm just not sure I – as a person – really matter to my father,” I went on. “Or to anyone for that matter. Which is honestly, why I'm not in any hurry to go back. You notice that I haven't tried to escape, haven't you? I haven't because I haven't felt that my life is in danger. At least here, I don't have Tony's filthy hands trying to grope me against my will.”

Deacon kissed me, long and hard, taking my breath away once again. When he pulled back, he looked me in the eye and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. He looked confused, almost surprised by what he was going to say.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

“No, it's not nothing. You wanted to say something. What was it?”

“Just that – well, just that I think you're being too hasty if you think you don't matter to anyone. There are people who care about you, Emmy, believe it or not.”

“Yeah, I mattered to my mother. But she's long dead. Or how about Tabitha – the best friend who's jealous of me for being forced to marry Tony because he's rich? Or the fiance who tells me he can't wait to bend me over and take my virginity from me, whether I like it or not?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. For the first time, I knew that I didn't want to go back. As crazy as it sounded, I wanted to stay there, in that cabin with Deacon forever. But I knew that wasn't possible. He was a mafia leader. He'd eventually have to get back to the city and to his business intrests and let me go. And I was pretty positive he was going to let me go. He certainly wasn't going to hurt me.

But at the same time, I didn't think that Deacon was a saint in all this either. I knew he had plenty of ulterior motives. In his defense though, he'd never pretended to care for me as a person – he'd been up front about his uses for me from the start. At least he'd been honest.

“But while we're on the subject, Deacon, I know better than to think you care about me because to you, I'm just a pawn in your game,” I said. “And as soon as my father gives you what you want, you're going to drop me off and leave me behind. So no, I don't think anyone actually cares about me.”

Deacon reached over and grabbed my face in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. He stared into my eyes as he spoke. “Emmy, you're right and you're also wrong. Maybe, it started out that way. You were a pawn. You were a means to an end for me. But over the time we've spent together and as I've gotten to know you, I – I've come to care about you. It sounds nuts, believe me, I know. And nobody is more surprised to hear those words coming out of my mouth than I am. But it's true. There's just something about you and I've come to care about you – as a person. And if you don't want to go back there, we can find a way to keep you from ever going back to your father again. You hear me? I give you my word.”

“You'd risk your deal – your business – because of me?”

“It's not risking anything, love. I promised your father you'd be free if he gave me what I wanted. You'd be free. You could choose to stay, if you wanted, and I'd make sure he'd never come get you. And I promise you that Tony will never lay his hands on you again, you got that?”

I couldn't believe Deacon freely admitted that he'd developed feelings for me like this. He was wrong when he'd said that nobody was more surprised by his admission than him – I was absolutely floored by it. But since he had – I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that I could be free from the Antonelli family legacy, and that I wouldn't end up like my mother or the endless line of women who happened to be born into the family. That it didn't have to be my life – not if I didn't want it to be.

I wanted to believe that more than anything.

But my father had his ways of getting what he wanted. Always had and I suspected, always would. Even though Deacon had proven himself to be a worthy opponent in their little game, he was still young and had a lot to learn about the life of a true crime family.

And I had to face facts – even if Tony wound up dead, my dad would find me. If not because of the alliance with the Bellini's, then because I was his. His property. His possession. His – thing. And there was no way he'd allow me to be with Deacon, not as long as he was alive.

Still, I wanted to revel in the fantasy a bit longer. Stroking Deacon's cheek, I smiled up at him.

“You'd do that, for me?”

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd do anything for you, Emmy,” he said, kissing the top of my head gently.

It may have only been a matter of days, but already, there was something more between us. Something I couldn't explain. But something powerful that shook me right down to the very core of my being.

And something my father could never begin to understand.

DEACON

Sleep was hard to come by these days. Not because I was afraid Emelia might sneak out on me – that wasn't something that concerned me one little bit. I knew she didn't want to go. No, what had me feeling a little skittish was what might happen if her father did actually do what I'd demanded – what might happen if he actually killed Tony Bellini.

There I was, afraid of actually getting what I'd fought for – and all because of this girl. This girl who at first was nothing but a piece on the gameboard for me to move around as I saw fit. But there she was – already becoming something more to me. I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair, not entirely sure how I'd gotten myself into this mess.

Emelia looked so peaceful curled up in the blanket, snoring softly, her naked body partially exposed. She stopped sleeping in clothes once we'd fucked for the first time, and I had to say, it was something I could most definitely get used to.

Yes, I could get used to her being around. And that was hard. I promised her I'd do everything in my power to keep her free from her father, and I'd meant every word of that. But once she was free, she was going to have to decided whether or not she really wanted to be with me. Or was it all about being free of everybody – including me – once and for all?

I couldn't keep her prisoner forever, I knew that. And I hated to admit it, but I was starting to fall for her. Her sweet, gentle fierceness. She wasn't like other women I'd met – especially those who'd come from the Italian crime families. She was fierce, tough, and intelligent as hell. But she also had an innocence about her that I absolutely adored. It was hard to find any woman – especially in my world – who still believed in things like true love and whatnot. And while I'd initially found it all pretty lame and naive, I couldn't deny that it was growing on me.

Or rather, she was growing on me.

My phone rang, which snapped me out of my thoughts and made me jump. Emelia's eyes opened, sleepily, and looked over at me.

“Go back to sleep, love,” I said. “It's just Colin.”

I slipped out of bed and padded downstairs so that Emelia could sleep a while longer, and answered the phone.

“Yes?” I growled. “It better be important.”

“Oh, it's important alright,” Colin said. “Just wanted to let you know that we've made a deal with Antonelli.”

“I know that,” I said. “You were just working out the details last we talked.”

“No, I mean we've made a deal with Antonelli. As in Sean and I. Another deal entirely. Would you like to hear the details of our deal?”

“What do you mean another deal?” I snapped. “Stop playing fucking games, Colin. You have no right – ”

“Well, you see here, brother – some of us aren't too happy with your leadership lately. Or your obsession with this stupid fucking girl,” Colin said, “And we believe, Sean and I, that we can run things better. Especially with Antonelli's help. He's a shrewd, smart man, that one.”

“Why you fucking – ”

My mind was racing as I tried to calculate all the damage Colin could do. He was my right-hand man, the one I trusted more than anyone else. He knew more than anyone else – knew where the proverbial bodies were buried – and to have him running his mouth to Antonelli was a bad, bad thng. It would only be a matter of time before they were on our doorstep.

“You see, Antonelli had a counteroffer for us when I called,” Colin went on. “And since you've been too busy spending time with that slut, we decided to take him up on it. Your head – or your other body parts – delivered to him.”

“And what are you getting in return, huh?”

“Control over the fucking Brotherhood, man,” Colin sounded on the verge of laughter. “Don't you see? You're out. I'm in.”

“Do the others know about this? Besides, your idiot brother, that is?”

“Not yet, but they will soon, Deacon,” Colin said. “But for now, I really must be going. Sleep well.”

The line went dead in my hand and my blood was boiling as I paced the room. I needed to think. Needed to plan. But first things first – we had to get out of there, and fast.

“Emmy,” I called to her, “We should probably be going, love.”

“Why?” she muttered from the loft. “Has my father found us?”

“No, but there's a host of other shit headed our way,” I said.

Emelia came down the stairs in nothing but my t-shirt, her hair all over the place. Never before had she looked more beautiful to me. I couldn't believe that I was falling so hard for this woman – and that was trouble. Especially now. Things were going to be complicated on their own when I went to war with Colin – and I would be going to war with him. But not only did I have Antonelli on my ass, now I had some of my own brothers on it as well.

And I had no idea who I could trust in all of this.

“Do we even have a car?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Yes, we do actually,” I said.

No one, not even Colin knew about it. But yes, we had a car, hidden in a garage off the property. See, he'd thought we were stranded out there when he'd driven off. But I was a prudent and cautious man. It was how I'd risen to the position I was in. So, Colin may have thought he'd left us without a ride, but he didn't realize that I would never allow myself to be stranded anywhere.

“Have all your things?” I asked.

“What things?” she said. “I literally only have the clothes I wore when you scooped me up and nothing else.”

I tossed her a pair of pajama bottoms – and of course they were much too large on her. She pulled the drawstring as tight as they would go, but she still had to hold them up on her tiny little frame. Still, it would work well enough for the moment – we'd worry about getting her something proper to wear later. In that moment, we had to get moving quickly.

“Come on,” I said, motioning for her to follow me out.

It was hard to believe that just days before, I'd been worried she might try to escape. Now, I let her walk freely, trusting she'd follow me. I glanced back, just to make sure there was no doubt in her eyes, and there wasn't. Only fear.

“If not my dad, then what?” she asked. “What's going on, Deacon?”

“I'll explain on the road,” I said.

We walked into the woods, and it was a trek to get to my hidden vehicle. Poor Emelia was shivering from the cold, but it wasn't like I had a coat to give her. I quickened our pace, just to reach the warmth of the vehicle a little faster. And once we finally got to the garage, I opened the lock and we stepped inside to find my dad's old Impala. Nothing fancy, but it would get us the hell out of there and it was a trusty old brute. I'd been sure to keep it properly maintained in the event she was needed. And right then, she was needed.

Emelia climbed into the passenger seat on her own, there was no forcing her. It all seemed so surreal to think that I'd kidnapped her, forced her to come with me, and yet, there she was coming willingly. I didn't even know how all of it had happened, but somehow, she trusted me. Or at least, she trusted me more than she trusted sticking around to see what kind of trouble was coming for us.

Once in the car, we drove out the back of the garage and down a dirt road that was hardly ever used anymore. I drove with the headlights off though, just in case. Colin might not be far and better not to alert him of our hasty exit with bright lights – even though I doubted he knew about the road we were on in the first place. Still, I was a cautious man.

Had Colin known everything and had it all figured out – like he thought he did – there'd have been no escaping in time, I was sure of it. But his betrayal was one reason I found it so very hard to trust anyone, even my best friend, and had to make secret contingency plans for myself. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles white, and Emelia just sat beside me, quietly waiting for me to fill her in on everything going on.

“It's Colin,” I said finally. “He's gone rogue.”

I sighed and knew I had to give her the option. If she wanted to be released, to go back to her father, she could. I had bigger shit to deal with in that moment – bigger problems than this deal with the Italians. I needed to get control of my own men and my own organization back. Oh yeah, and I needed to put two into the back of Colin's head for his betrayal.

“So, what does that mean?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Which means, I can drop you off somewhere, if you'd like. And you'd be free to go,” I said.

“Go? Go where? Back to my father?” she said.

I nodded, staring straight ahead as I turned onto the paved road that led us away from the cabin. I let out a small sigh of relief – there was no sign of Colin. Not yet, anyway. Either he was at the cabin already or he was further away than I thought. Either way, I was glad to be gone.

“I don't want that, Deacon,” she said quietly. “You promised me I wouldn't have to – ”

“Shhh,” I said, calming her down. “I didn't say you had to be, but I'm giving you a way out. I felt like you deserved to have a choice in all of this. Things are about to get ugly, Emmy, and I hate for you to be in the middle of it.”

“Too late,” she said. “I already am, whether I like it or not. And I'm not going home now. Not to my father, and most certainly not to Tony.”

“You could go anywhere, you know that?” I said. “Anywhere you'd like. No one said you had to go home and you certainly don't have to go with me if you dont' want to. What I'm trying to say is that you're free, love.”

She was quiet for a few moments and I thought she might take me up on the offer. Yes, part of me hurt just thinking about it. Despite my best efforts, I'd already grown rather attached to this beautiful, young woman – even though I knew it was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas.

“No,” she said after a few moments. “I don't think so. I'm going to stay with you, if that's okay with you?”

As much as I loved that idea – I was also terrified by it. I wanted to believe I could protect her. Keep her safe. But the truth of the matter was, when the bullets started flying – and they would eventually – nobody was ever truly safe. I knew that it was going to gut me if anything happened to her.

Still, she was free to make her own choices and if she chose to stay with me, so be it.

“Whatever you like, Emmy. Like I said, you're free now. You're no longer my prisoner. So any choice you make is yours – good or bad.”

“I'm your partner,” she said with a smile. “Your partner in crime.”

DEACON

“Partner in crime, huh?” I asked.

Emelia looked at me from the passenger seat, a broad grin on her face, looking quite pleased with herself.

“Partner in crime,” she confirmed.

I gave her a grin as the Impala roared down the darkened highway. I had no plan and was just winging in it – which made me nervous. I was a man who needed a plan. It's not that I wasn't quick on my feet – had to be in my line of business – but I was always at my best when I was able to plan something out. Especially, when it was something important.

And I couldn't think of anything more important than keeping me and Emelia alive.

“Do you have a plan?” Emelia asked.

I turned and gave her a wink. “A secret one,” I replied. “Don't you worry about a thing, love.”

Her laugh was soft and rueful. “So, there's no plan.”

I smirked. “There's no plan,” I said. “At least, not yet.”

“Well, that's not all very comforting at all.”

The road was dark and I kept checking behind me for headlights, but still saw nothing. It wouldn't be too long before we hit a major highway and could lose ourselves in the crush of people in the city. I ordinarily wasn't a big fan of crowds, but this time, it might just save our lives.

“Right now, my plan is to get us as far away from that cabin – and Colin – as humanly possible,” I said. “We're gonna lay low for a little bit so I can sort all of this out and figure out what our plan of attack is going to be.”

“Seems like a good place to start,” she said.

“As good as any at this point, love,” I said.

My mind was spinning with everything going on. I couldn't believe that Colin had betrayed me. We'd come up together. Had been through a lot of shit together. I'd always considered him my best friend. Closer than a brother. And knowing that for a chance at the big chair, he'd betrayed me, filled me with a deep, dark rage.

I was going to kill Colin for his betrayal. There was no question about that. But I was going to make him suffer for a while first. It was the fuel that kept my fire burning. I was going to get out of this mess and make Colin pay for it.

We roared down the highway and when we passed a turnoff, I thought I saw the moonlight glint off the hood of a car. I wasn't sure though and thought my paranoia might be kicking into overdrive. But then I saw the headlights turn onto the road behind me.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

Emelia turned and looked out the back window and then back to me. “Is that them?”

I nodded. “Yeah, probably. Either that or it's a cop and we're in a speed trap,” I said. “And for the first time in my life, I hope it's a cop.”

My phone rang on the seat beside me – which told me, it probably wasn't a cop behind me. Glancing at the display, I saw that the call was from Colin. I connected the call and put it on speaker.

“What?” I demanded.

“Where ya headed, mate?” Colin asked, amusement in his tone.

“Budapest,” I said. “Care to meet me there?”

“Tempting,” Colin said. “But I have some business to attend to here.”

“Pity,” I replied. “I'd love nothing more than to shoot you in the face and dump your body into the Danube, you treacherous son of a bitch.”

“Oh, c'mon now, Deacon,” he said. “After all we've been through together and that's the way you're gonna be?”

“Funny how that works,” I said. “You stab me in the back and I want to kill you. Coincidence?”

Colin laughed. “Are you there, lassie?” he asked. “Emelia Antonelli, I assume you're there.”

She looked over at me and then looked at the phone as if it were a coiled snake ready to strike. I shrugged, letting her know it was okay to answer if she wanted – or not.

“What do you want?” she hissed.

“Well, to be quite frank with you, love, a couple hours alone with you would be nice,” he said.

“Fuck off,” she snapped.

“Oh, you've got quite the mouth on you, don't ya, love?” Colin laughed. “Don't worry though, I've got somethin' for that too. Anyway, your daddy is looking forward to having you back home. Of course, before we hand you over to your daddy, I'm gonna have some fun with ya first. And I gotta tell ya, love, I'm really looking forward to that.”

“Yeah, over my dead body,” I snapped.

“That's kind of the plan, mate,” Colin said.

“I assume that's you behind us?” I asked.

The headlights on the car behind is flashed on and off, giving me my answer. “Yeah, knowing you like I do, I assumed you had an exit plan, mate,” he said. “So I sent a couple of my boys to the cabin and figured I'd watch the road myself. And like a gift from God himself, you drove right by us.”

“So, what's your plan here, Colin?” I asked.

“Well, we're going to run you off the road to start,” he said. “Put two in your head and leave you on the side of the road. And then, I may take the lassie to a nice hotel – or I may just bend her over the hood of the car and make her look at your body while I fuck her. Haven't quite decided on that part yet.”

“Yeah, well good luck with that,” I said.

“Oh, I think Lady Luck is on my side this time,” he replied. “Has to be with the way everything fell into place. Wouldn't you agree?”

“Yeah, I guess we'll see about that,” I said.

I disconnected the call and dropped the phone onto the seat next to me. Emelia's eyes were wide and I could see the fear in her face.

“Don't worry, love,” I said. “I'll get us through this. I promise you.”

It was a stupid thing to say. There was no way I could guarantee that I'd get us through this. But I knew she needed something in that moment – needed some reassurance that everything was going to be okay. And if I could allay her fears for only a few minutes, I was happy to lie through my teeth.

On the road behind me, Colin's car started to pick up speed and close the distance between us. It wasn't long before they were right on my back bumper. The one thing I had going for me though, was that this car was made from good old fashioned American steel. Colin was fond of driving cars that were fast, but would disintegrate in an accident. I knew he couldn't afford to bump me too much – not if he wanted to keep his car intact and on the road.

It was a small advantage, but an advantage nonetheless.

I looked in the rearview and saw flashes of light – Colin had his hand out and was shooting at the car. As if to underscore the point, the sound of something hitting the steel of the trunk sounded.

“Keep your head down,” I said. “Duck low in the seat. In fact, get down onto the floorboard.”

Emelia looked over at me, her eyes wide and fearful, but her jaw set, a look of determination in her eyes. She wasn't going to let her fears run roughshod over her.

“Do you have a gun?” she asked.

“What?”

“A gun,” she snapped. “Do you have one?”

I looked at her, my expression one of disbelief. “Glove box.”

She opened the glove box and took out the 9mm I kept stored there. She checked the clip, chambered a round and disengaged the safety. Clearly, there was more to this girl than met the eye. A lot more.

Rolling down the window, she turned around awkwardly in her seat so that she could get her arm out and pointed in the right direction. When she'd accomplished the feat, she squeezed off a round. The car behind me swerved wildly on the road and fell back a bit. But then I saw the muzzle flashes and heard bullets whining as they grazed the steel of the car.

“Get your ass back in here, Emelia,” I snapped. “You're going to get yourself shot.”

She ignored me and squeezed off another couple of rounds, making Colin's car swerve and fall back a little bit more. I had to admit, Emelia was doing a nice job of keeping them at bay. But then I hit a pothole in the road which bounced the car violently. Emelia screamed as her arm hit the top of the door panel and the gun went sailing off into the night.

“Shit!” she screamed.

She sat back in her seat, a look of pure frustration on her face. Behind us, Colin must have seen what happened, because his car sped up and hovered just inches off my bumper. He moved to the left, trying to get around me, so I cut the wheel and stayed in front of him. He moved to the right and I cut the wheel to the right, keeping him behind me.

But he was diving a smaller, faster car – and he was a pretty damn good driver. So when he moved left again and I moved to block, he cut quickly to the other side and got on my right. I wasn't going to be able to keep him behind me.

“Get down,” I snarled. “Keep your head down.”

Emelia did as she was told, practically laying down with her head in my lap. In any other circumstance, I might take advantage of that – but not when the stakes were life and death. I knew I had to do something. If I let them pull up alongside me, they'd simply shoot through the window and kill me.

The engine on the Impala roared, echoing into the night, while the high pitched whine of the asian car he was driving tried to compete. While my Impala made a better sound, his car was moving quicker and his driver's side window was almost to the passenger side window. If I didn't do something then and there, I was going to get my ass shot.

So I did the only thing I could – I cut the wheel to the right.

The sound of my car running into theirs was horrendous. It was as if somebody wearing a steel boot stepped on a plastic cup. The crunching and creaking of the impact drowned out the sound of the engines for a moment.

The wheel shuddered in my hand and the Impala was groaning loud, but the plan worked. I watched as Colin's car slid off the road, saw the shower of sparks and flames when it hit a tree. At the speed they were going, I wasn't sure that they could have survived the crash. Maybe the did and maybe they didn't. I wasn't going to stick around to find out. The only thing that mattered in that moment was that Emelia and I were free.

Emeilia sat up and tried to look in her side view mirror, hoping to see some of the carnage. But it was to dark and we'd put too much distance between us anyway. All that I knew was that – at least for the moment – we were entirely free.

I punched the accelerator and shot off into the night, looking for a place to lay low for a few days.

EMELIA

“I think I'm going to be sick,” I said, slinking down low in my seat.

I hadn't felt well for days, but the adrenaline rush of having to run from Colin had allowed me to forget about my sick stomach long enough to do what had to be done. But now that we were safe, that greasy feeling in the pit of my stomach returned and I felt like I was going to throw up all over again.

“Can we stop somewhere, please?” I asked, wondering if I was going to make it until we stopped.

“Sure thing, Emmy,” he said, looking over at me with a worried look on his face. “You okay?”

“I'm fine. Just something I ate isn't agreeing with me, I think,” I croaked. “I think the adrenaline rush from that chase is making my stomach churn.”

Deacon nodded and started to slow the car down. “So where did you learn to shoot like that?”

I shrugged. “You grow up in this life, you learn a lot of useful skills. I didn't actually think I'd ever use some of them though.”

“I suppose so,” he said with a laugh.

He pulled into the nearest gas station and I jumped out of the car and ran inside. After throwing up in the bathroom – which already appeared to be covered in vomit – I looked through the feminine hygiene section. Grabbing what I needed, I walked up to the counter, making sure Deacon wasn't around or watching me from the car or something. I saw him outside, standing at the car and watching the entrance, but he couldn't see me – or what I was buying – most likely.

I checked out, asked for a bag and rushed back out to the car.

“Feeling better, I hope?”

“Yeah, a lot, thanks. Getting that out of my system helped.” I said, climbing in the front seat of the car.

Deacon got in the other side and started the engine with a roar. We drove off, looking for the nearest hotel in this podunk little town.

“I need to ditch the car,” he said. “Find another mode of transportation for us. Just in case.”

I nodded. He was probably right. If Colin had surived the crash, he'd be looking for the Impala.

“But first, let's find somewhere to lie low,” he said. “Get some rest and we can deal with all this shit tomorrow, what do ya say?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Deacon looked over at me, worried again. “You sure you're okay, love?”

“Yeah, just tired. Everything that's happened lately has me feeling a bit wrung out,” I said, closing my eyes and listening to the hum of the road beneath our tires. “Sleep sounds really nice.”

Deacon pulled into a hotel parking lot a few minutes later. It was a pretty gross and shabby place – looking like the sort of place that rented rooms by the hour. It was most definitely not the nicer hotels I was used to, but it would do. Deacon pulled around back so that the car not visible from the highway.

He paid with a fake name and ID. No questions asked – not surprising in a place like that. We got our room key and walked to our room, mostly in silence. Deacon was on edge, his head turning this way and that as he looked for any potential threats. I glanced around too, but didn't see anything. Then again, I wasn't as well trained and might miss something that Deacon could see.

But we made it to our room without incident, thankfully. I wan't sure I could have handled a shootout right there in the parking lot. And as soon as we were alone in the room, with the door closed and locked, I felt my entire body relax and I fell into Deacon's arms.

And to my surprise, he held me close. He stroked my hair and gently kissed the top of my head. This man, who only weeks before had kidnapped me, was now holding me close and hugging me. Comforting me. I looked up into those blue eyes and smiled, just happy to be alive – and to be with him.

He kissed me, and unlike before, there was more to it than simply raw, unadulterated lust. This time, I could tell that for him, it wasn't just about sex. It was a sweet kiss. A gentle kiss. The sort of kiss you give to somebody you truly care for – not one you just want to screw. It was a kiss that sent a shockwave through my entire body and caused butterflies to start battering the inside of my tummy.

I kissed him back, eager to return his emotions and things got heated quickly – because how could they not in that situation? This man was still insanely gorgeous to me and everything about him was sexy. Though there was more emotion behind our kissing than before, that didn't mean I wasn't still feeling powerful waves of lust for this man.

“I can't believe I'm saying this,” Deacon said as he stared into my eyes. “But I think I'm falling in love with you, Emelia.”

My heart fluttered inside of my chest and I felt such a torrent of emotion that I felt like I could cry. And in that moment – such a sweet, tender, even romantic moment – the rush of happiness I felt pushed away all the scary memories that had been etched into my mind earlier in the day.

“Really?” I choked. “I mean, I think I'm falling in love with you too, but it just doesn't seem possible, given the circumstances and all. It just seems – crazy.”

“It's crazy, but it's true,” he said, pushing a strand of hair from my face so he could see me better. “I'm as surprised as you are, but you're one hell of a girl, Emmy.”

I could feel the color rushing to my cheeks, and I remembered what I had grabbed at the gas station earlier in the day. I hadn't had a chance to use it yet, but now, given everything we'd just confessed to each other, it seemed as good a time as any to talk about it.

“Good, I'm glad to hear you say that, Deacon,” I said, looking down at his shirt instead of his face.

I focused on the buttons, fidgeting with them out of nervousness – I had no idea how he was going to react to what I was about to say. And not knowing made my insides churn.

“I'm glad you care for me, Deacon, because I think I might be pregnant.”

EMELIA

“I love you, Emelia,” he whispered into my ear, nipping at it playfully.

We were curled up on the bed of some random hotel in the middle of nowhere – a dumpy little dive, truth be told – but it was just him and me. And honestly, I was the happiest I'd ever been. Pressed up against his warm, firm body, all I wanted was to be with him.

Deacon Murphy was the man of my dreams, and no matter where we ended up, I knew we'd be happy as long as we were together. I never imagined that things could be this way with him. But I was thankful for it.

“I love you too,” I said, staring up into his deep, blue eyes and feeling my heart skip a beat. “So very much.”

“I still can't believe I met a woman who has the power to turn me to mush the way you do,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “And of all the women in this world I could have fallen for, I still can't believe I fell for you – the daughter of my sworn enemy. Who'd have ever thought that?”

“Tell me about it,” I said, laughing. “You weren't exactly at the top of my list either.”

Deacon looked into my eyes and lowered his face, pressing his soft lips to mine. Our kisses grew more urgent and intense as his hands moved up the length of my body, cupping my breasts and drawing a throaty groan from me.

Deacon pulled me to him, pressing his body into mine, and I felt his erection through his boxer shorts. It was still early in the morning, the sun had just come out, but Deacon's cock was already awake and standing at attention. It seemed like the perfect way to start a day to me.

Reaching down, I gripped the erection straining against the fabric of his boxers, stroking it, as I stared into his eyes. I'd never grow tired of that. I gave this man my virginity, I had his child growing inside of me, and if I had my way, he was the only man I'd ever be with.

Deacon removed my nightgown, slipping it over my head and kissing me as he tossed it to the floor on the side of the bed. I gasped when his mouth latched onto my nipple and he sucked on it. He nipped at it, teasing me with the tip of his tongue, as he stared up at me with such need in those pretty eyes of his.

“Yes, yes,” I said, arching my body toward him.

Each time he licked or sucked on my nipple, it was like having an electrical current surge through my body. The feeling of his mouth on my breasts was intense and it drove me absolutely wild. I removed his boxers, tossing them in the general direction he'd thrown my nightgown and slid my hand over the flesh of his stiff cock, gripping it tightly in my hands. Stroking him from base to tip, I smiled, loving listening to the sounds he made as I proceeded to jack him off.

“Suck me,” he begged. “Please. I need to feel your mouth on my cock.”

Having had such little experience giving oral sex to a man, I was a little nervous – but at the same time, I also loved feeling him between my lips. I loved listening to his moans and groans as I licked and sucked on him.

Pushing Deacon down onto his back, I moved down the length of his body, running my tits over his cock. I let his dick sit between them as I rubbed it up and down, licking just the tip of him as I stared into his eyes. His fingertips dug into the flesh of my shoulders and he groaned as I continued to tease him with the tip of my tongue.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he gasped. “Do you know that?”

“I'm just glad you think so,” I said, moving lower and gripping him in my hand.

I took the head of his cock between my lips as I stroked the base, never breaking eye contact with him as I did it. His hand ran along the back of my head as I teased and taunted him with my lips and tongue, taking just a little bit of him into my mouth at a time. Instead of taking him into my mouth completely, like I knew he wanted me to, I licked him up and down and all around the tip, just savoring the experience and the way he looked down at me. Relishing that look of pure desire and need in his eyes.

I watched the need build in his eyes, saw the tension of pure want on his face, and could only smile. I was in control and I had the power. And when he least expected it, I fully engulfed him with my mouth, taking him in as far as I could. Since he was so large, my hand made up the difference – there was no way I could take his entire cock into my mouth at once. I bobbed my head up and down on his shaft, moving slowly at first until his breathing grew ragged and his body grew tense. He moaned with pleasure and called my name softly, which made me even wetter than I already was.

I didn't want to make him cum like that – especially not so soon – so I pulled back, licking the pre-cum from his tip and letting him watch as it stretched from his cock to my tongue.

With his balls in my hand, I went back to licking and kissing the sides of his shaft as I stroked the head of his dick, and Deacon was groaning louder. He was begging me to take him into my throat, to suck him harder. Which I did once more, taking him all in at once, drawing an animalistic grunt from him as I did.

“Stop, stop, stop,” he said, but he arched upward, almost as if his body was begging me not to listen. “I don't want to finish yet.”

As much as I wanted to finish him off with my mouth, my body also had needs of its own that it was crying out to be sated – like having him inside of me.

Sliding up his body and crawling on top of him, I straddled him and placed my opening against his hard shaft, letting just the tip penetrate the lips of my pussy. Our eyes met and was followed by our lips as our kissing intensified, the passion flowing between us. As our tongues danced in my mouth, Deacon thrust his hips upward, driving himself inside of me and taking me by surprise. My eyes grew wide and I gasped as he filled me up completely.

With his hands on my ass cupping and squeezing, he moved me up and down on top of him, his nails digging into my flesh and his cock slamming deep into me. His tongue pushed past my lips as he kissed me while I rode his body, hard, rubbing my clit against him with each downward motion. Never in my life had anything felt as good as this.

He moved his head down, taking my nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking on it while I increased my pace and fucked him harder. Faster. He threw his head back and cried out as I gripped his cock with the muscles in my pussy.

“Jesus, Emelia,” he moaned. “Jesus Christ, yes. Don't stop.”

And I didn't stop. Planting my hands against his hard chest for support, I started thrusting my hips up and down, fucking him harder, taking him deeper. I felt the pressure building up low within me, could feel my orgasm building like a wave out on the ocean. And I knew that it was only a matter of time before that wave came crashing down over me.

Deacon's body twitched and spasmed as I rode him. His muscles tensed and he gritted his teeth. I knew he wasn't going to last much longer either. The sensations were so amazing and so powerful, I wasn't ready for it to end and wanted to keep it going as long as possible.

Deacon groaned and stopped me – though I could see the regret in his eyes. He looked at me and smiled.

“My turn,” he said.

He pulled me down off of him, putting me down on my hands and knees. He got behind me and guided his cock to my opening. With one hard thrust, he buried himself deep inside of me, drawing a gasp from me. With one hand, he grabbed on to my hip as he started to pump his cock in and out of my wet pussy. His other hand found my hair, giving it a nice hard pull, forcing my head back.

The blend of the small amount of pain of him pulling my hair blended with the pleasure of him thrusting his cock deep into me drove me insane. I cried out, calling his name, begged him to fuck me harder – a request which he was more than happy to oblige.

The sound of our bodies slapping together echoed around the small room, mixing with our grunts, moans, and cries, creating an amazing symphony. His fingers dug into the flesh of my hip and I knew he was nearing the end of the line. At the same time though, that wave that had been building on the horizon within me came rushing to the shore, breaking with a speed and intensity I didn't expect.

My body spasmed and felt like it was on fire as I came, sensations of pleasure radiating along my every nerve ending. I screamed out Deacon's name as I came harder than I ever thought possible. And that was it for him.

I felt Deacon's body lock up and he pulled back as he moaned. I felt his hot seed shooting all over my back and my ass. It felt like a warm rain splashing down on my skin and I loved the sensation of it.

I fell onto my stomach and Deacon collapsed next to me on his back. Our breathing was ragged and laboured, but we couldn't contain our smiles. He leaned over and kissed me again, this time a little bit softer and gentler.

He pulled away and looked me in the eye. “I love you, Emelia,” he whispered. “I'm so lucky to have you in my life.”

I smiled and felt my tears begin to well with tears. “I love you, Deacon.”

DEACON

Staring down at her, despite everything that had happened, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was one of the luckiest guys on the planet. Sure, I'd lost the Brothers in this whole mess, but given what I knew now, I was probably better off for it. I thought they'd have my back through thick and thin, but come to find out, they'd deceived me. They'd lied to me. They'd tried to kill me.

And one day, I'd have my revenge for that. For now though, I had Emelia. And that was more than enough.

I stroked a strand of her hair from her face as she slept peacefully, curled up beside me. Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath. Living in hotels like this, living on the run – it was no life for her and it was no way to raise a child. I needed to figure something out, find somewhere we could go, somewhere we could stay and be safe. And I needed to figure it all out quick.

But for now, I needed to take care of my sleeping beauty. I needed to make sure that she was okay. That she was safe. And that meant making sure she had food and everything else she could possibly need or want. I wanted to give her everything. Wanted to make sure she knew she was loved and to treat her like the queen she was.

My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it had been a little while since we'd last eaten and I remembered the diner attached to the hotel. I figured that I could run down there, pick up some pancakes and orange juice and be back before she woke up for the second time that morning. I could serve her breakfast in bed – which I thought would be the second-best way to start the day.

Not wanting to wake her, I carefully pulled myself out from underneath her. Despite my jostling – even as careful as I tried to be – she thankfully continued to sleep soundly. I grabbed my clothes off the floor and hurried to get dressed, making sure to place a gun next to her on the table – just in case. With those pricks out there, I wasn't going to take any chances.

And, as I'd witnessed that night in the car, my Emmy wasn't like other women out there. She knew how to take care of herself, and that included using a gun. She'd earned my respect and I trusted that she could defend herself, if the chips were down and she needed to. I gently kissed her on the cheek and made sure to grab a gun of my own – again, just in case – before shutting the door and making sure it locked behind me.

The diner – The Golden Pancake House – wasn't likely to have amazing food. I could tell just by looking at the cracked, fading sign, and the cheap dime store decorations. That and the fact that it was attached to a cheap hotel and all, more or less guaranteed the food would be substandard. But it would do. I didn't want to go too far, not without Emelia by my side.

I figured we'd head out once she woke up and then decided what our next destination was going to be. We'd talked about heading south, into Mexico and maybe even down as far as South America. But we didn't have anything set in stone yet. We had no firm plans and everything was on the table.

“Good morning,” the waitress said as soon as I walked into the diner. “Seating for one?”

“Uhh no, I'm taking it to go. My – my girlfriend,” it sounded so strange to say that, and honestly, I wasn't sure if I should even be calling her that, “is still sleeping. I wanted to surprise her with breakfast in bed.”

“Of course,” she said and smiled as she pulled out a menu. “Just let me know what you'd like and we'll get that right up for ya.”

Honestly, I had no idea what Emelia liked. I was still so new to this – and new to her – that I didn't know if she preferred pancakes over waffles or if she was more of a French toast sort of girl. Not to mention that I had zero clue whether she liked bacon or sausage – or neither. Normally, I might not care, but for some reason, with Emelia, I cared. I cared a lot and wanted to make this right. She mattered to me, which meant that even the smallest little detail like bacon or sausage mattered to me. As crazy as that was to think, let alone say.

As I stared down at the menu, the sound of a gunshot ripped through the morning air outside. My head spun around and I stared out the glass windows with my stomach up in my throat. My heart was pounding and adrenaline rushed through me as I stood up from the stood. I couldn't see our room from where I was, which only made me more nervous. I dropped the menu and rushed outside to see what had happened – as did the waitress and several others.

“What's going on?” she asked. “What was that? Was that a gunshot?”

I didn't have the time or inclination to answer. All I knew was that I had to get to Emelia. As I rounded the corner heading toward our room, my heart was racing and the knot in my stomach constricted painfully. I was already fearing the worst.

And I was right to be.

I watched as a black sedan pulled out of the parking lot in a squeal of tires and plumes of smoke as it sped down the road. An animalistic growl escaped my throat as I stepped into our room. The door was wide open – and judging by the shattered wood, it had been kicked open – and as I entered, I saw the signs of a vicious struggle. Tables turned over, lamps knocked to the ground, bedsheets ripped from the beds – she had put up one hell of a fight.

But Emelia was nowhere to be found.

The gun had been used – hence, the shot we'd heard – but apparently it had been too late when she'd fired the shot since the weapon was on the floor beside the bed. I turned and saw that there was a hole in the door – she'd taken a shot but had missed someone who'd been standing there. But she'd tried. Oh God, she'd tried.

Which meant, she'd been taken against her will – as if the destroyed hotel room weren't proof of that enough. Whether it was her father or someone else though, I didn't know. All I knew was that no one had a right to take her like this.

No one.

My eyes narrowed and I felt my gut churning. There was a deep well of rage bubbling up within me. I was going to get Emelia back. And I was going to make somebody pay for taking her in the first place.

As I stood in the wrecked hotel room, feeling like I'd been kicked in the nuts, I made that vow to myself. Somebody was going to bleed for what they'd done. And they were going to bleed badly.

EMELIA

“Who the fuck are you?” I screamed, kicking at the seat. “What the fuck do you want with me?”

My hands were tied, but I could kick and scream all I wanted to. The men wore masks, but their thick, Italian accents sounded familiar. Very familiar. Too familiar, in fact.

“We work for your father,” the driver said.

Yeah, that figures. I wasn't really all that surprised to hear them say that – not after I'd heard their accents the first time. Fucking great.

“So that gives you a right to break into my hotel room and pull me our forcibly?” I yelled. “I didn't want to go with you pricks, in case you missed the ever so subtle warning of me shooting at you.”

“We were rescuing you, princess,” the driver said. “You need to relax.”

The guy in the passenger seat stayed quiet and kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“Rescue me, huh?” I snapped. “If that's the case, then why am I restrained like a prisoner?”

“For your own safety, Emelia,” he said. “We knew things were going to happen fast, and we weren't sure you'd recognize us. So we had to restrain you for your safety.”

“And yours, I presume?” I narrowed my gaze.

“We didn't know you'd be armed,” he said. “But it made me glad we had to restrain you so there were no – accidents.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't want to be rescued?” I asked.

The two men looked at each other and laughed, but didn't bother to say anything to me – which only pissed me off even more. I struggled against my bonds, trying to find a way to wiggle out of them. When that didn't succeed, I did the only thing left open to me – vow to kick both of their asses and repeat myself.

“Hello?” I snapped. “I honestly have no desire to go back to my father. Did either one of you geniuss ever think of that?”

“Stockholm syndrome,” the passenger said.

“Has to be,” replied the driver.

“That took hold pretty fast,” the passenger said. “Faster than I would've thought.”

“No, it's not Stockholm syndrome, you assholes,” I growled. “I don't want to go back. Deacon and I – ”

“Deacon Murphy?” the driver asked as he looked back at me in the rearview mirror. “Where is good ol' Deacon?”

“He was – ”

I almost said he was there with me but stopped myself short. Because honestly, I had no idea where he was. He'd been there when I drifted off to sleep, but when they broke into the room, he was nowhere to be found. If he had been, I had no doubt they wouldn't have gotten away with me. I would have bet my life on the idea that they would both be dead and we'd be far away from that dumpy little motel.

But he hadn't been there. He'd vanished. And I was tied up in the back of a car, being dragged back to my father.

“I don't know where he is now,” I said sullenly. “He was staying with me, but it appears he left before you two assholes got there.”

I had no idea where he was and I felt a stab of pain in my heart when I thought about waking up to that empty bed. But I argued with myself because Deacon wouldn't have left me – not like that. He loved me. I had no doubt about that. But where was he? Where had he gone?

At first, I feared he'd been killed, his body somewhere in our room. But when the man asked me Deacon's whereabouts, it reassured me that he got away. That he was alive out there. And if I knew Deacon – and I believed I did – I knew that he loved me and it would only be a matter of time before he found me. He would turn the world upside down to find me.

“What are you smiling about back there?” the driver asked. “Something funny, princess?”

“Oh nothing,” I said, stretching out in the backseat. “Just imagining what my boyfriend will do to you once he finds you, that's all. It's not going to be pretty and personally, I can't wait to watch him take you both apart.”

“Your boyfriend?” he asked. “Don't you mean, your fiance?”

By fiance, he of course, meant Tony. Just hearing the old man's name though, made me laugh out loud.

“No, I'm no longer Tony's. Truthfully, I was never Tony's,” I said. “No, I'm talking about your worst enemy, Deacon Murphy. He's going to come for me and he will burn you all to the ground to get me back.”

“You and Deacon?” the passenger asked, turning to look at me for the first time. “You two are a thing now? Seriously?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Not that it's any of your business,” I said. “All you need to know is that once he finds you two, he's going to have some fun with the both of you. At least for a little while. After that, I'm going to run off with him again, so you might as well enjoy the last few hours you have left on this planet.”

I couldn't see the man's face thanks to the mask he was wearing, but I didn't have to see it to know what was going through his mind. The way he looked over at the driver told me all I needed to know. He was worried. They feared Deacon and the hell he'd inflict upon them both for taking me – as they should.

But what they didn't realize is that they should fear me as well, because there was no way – no way in hell – I was going to back to my father. And there was even less of a chance that I was going to marry Tony. Never in a million years.

I'd been resigned to my fate for a long while. But that was before Deacon came into my life. And now that he had, I knew I had options. And having options meant I could be free. For the first time in my life, I had experienced freedom with Deacon and there was no way I was giving that up again. There was no way I was going to let them put the shackles back on me and the albatross that was Tony around my neck.

Not when Deacon was out there. He would come for me and we would be together again. We would live free and build the life that we wanted to live. That wasn't even a question in my mind.

Besides, we had a child to raise together. I rested my hand on my tummy, feeling blessed and ecstatic to be carrying his child. No one would keep me away from Deacon. Nobody was going to keep me from my baby's father.

No one. Not even my own father. I would tear this world apart to make sure that didn't happen.

ooo000ooo

“Emelia!” my father said, rushing over to me and embracing me the moment we got back home. “I can't tell you how happy I am to see you standing here. I feared the worst had happened to my little girl.”

“I'm fine, father,” I said, my words coming out a little harsher than intended.

As much as I loved my father, I realized now that I was nothing but a pawn to him. A means to an end. A way to build the reputation and esteem of my family name. A real father wouldn't give their daughter away to somebody they didn't want to be with. A real father wouldn't force a marriage upon his daughter simply to secure some deals with their rivals. A real father wouldn't treat his daughter like a commodity. A bargaining chip.

No, if he really cared for me, he'd want me to be happy. Even if being happy meant that I would be with Deacon. But I knew he'd never, ever let happen. He would see me dead before he ever saw me walk down the aisle with Deacon. I knew that with absolute certainty. I felt it down deep in my bones.

My father sat down at his desk and motioned for me to sit down across from him. He looked at me for a long moment, smiling wide. I was growing uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny and found myself fidgeting with my hands, avoiding his gaze.

“Tony and I have been worried sick about you,” he finally said.

I cringed at the mention of Tony's name. The idea that he was out there looking for me, hoping to find me and bring me home just so I could marry him and give him children – well, that just disgusted me more now than it ever had before. I had no desire to ever see his face again. And even less desire to feel his hands on me for even a second.

“Nico and Pauly said you appeared to be showing feelings for your captor, dear?” my father asked, raising an eyebrow. “I have to tell you, I find that more than a little concerning.”

I knew I couldn't tell him everything. I couldn't shoot my mouth off the way I had with the two men who'd taken me from my hotel room. Not if I wanted him to allow me some freedom – at least freedom enough that I could reach out to Deacon. If I did anything to upset him or raise the red flags in his head, he was going to have somebody watching me every minute of the day. And if that happened, there was no way I was going to be able to get a call out to Deacon – not without being observed and overheard.

Honestly, I should have kept my mouth shut back there in the car. I was kicking myself now for my lack of discretion. But I was so angry and frustrated that it had all just come out before I had a chance to check myself and think it through. I'd let my anger spill over and I'd said too much. I needed to keep my feelings secret for now. I needed to be smart about this. At least until I could get ahold of Deacon and get him a message. Let him know where I was.

“Maybe so,” I said. “Honestly, Deacon Murphy took very good care of me. He was kind and even gentle with me. So, I have no complaints. He was a gentleman, father.”

“He didn't harm you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”

“Not at all,” I said. “He made sure his men didn't lay a hand on me either. Like I said, he was kind and took care of me.”

My dad looked surprised, but then a sinister smile crossed his face. “Probably because he knew I'd make him suffer mightily before I killed him if he hadn't treated you well. He's wiser than I gave him credit for.”

I knew it went deeper than that though. I knew that Deacon wasn't like the other men who lived this life. But no matter what I said, no matter what defense I mounted, I knew my father wouldn't believe me. He hated Deacon and his family with everything in him and would never hear, let alone accept, that they hadn't mistreated me.

“As it stands, I'm just going to kill him quickly,” he said. “Get it over with before he knows what hits him. Consider it a kindness. A thank you for not harming my daughter, of course.”

“Please, father,” I said, choking on my words. “Can't we just let him go? There's no reason to hurt him. No reason to kill him. He's done nothing.”

“Let him go?” my father scoffed. “He stole the heir to the Antonelli family fortune. Kidnapped her. I can't just let something like that go. No, I cannot let that pass. What sort of message would that send? I'm sorry, but kind or not, he needs to pay for his crimes, Emelia. And pay he will.”

I knew that arguing with my father would be futile. It might even make thing worse. I'd need my freedom to warn Deacon. I'd need it so I could escape and join him again. Which is exactly what I planned to do. Because when I did get back to him, we were going to disappear completely. We were going to go somewhere neither his family nor mine would ever find us.

We were going to go somewhere we could live our lives and raise our family. Together.

DEACON

I'd checked out of the hotel room shortly after Emelia had been taken and was driving back to Chicago as fast as I could. I wasn't sure where Emelia was being held – not with any certainty – but I had a fairly good idea. I figured that either her father or my Brothers had her. And when I found out who it was and where they were keeping her, I was going to get her back and them make them pay once I found them.

I was going to hurt them like they'd never been hurt before. And I was going to enjoy every last second of hearing them scream.

As I drove down the lonely roads of Illinois, my phone rang. I picked it up, not recognizing the number. Ordinarily, I wouldn't answer an unknown number, but something in my gut was telling me to answer.

“Hello,” I said.

“Deacon?” It was Emelia. “It's me.”

“Oh thank God,” I said. “I've been so goddamn worried about you. Where are you? Who has you? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she said, whispering. “It's my father, Deacon. He thinks he rescued me from you – ”

She cut herself off and I heard what sounded her putting her hand over the phone. There were muffled voices in the background – she was talking to someone, but I couldn't make out who it was or what they were saying.

“No, I'm fine. Really, I am,” she said to the other person. “I don't need anything, but thank you Esme. May I please have a little privacy? I'm on the phone. Yes, thank you.”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “The maid. Where was I?”

At least it sounded like she was safe and wasn't being held hostage. That was a good thing.

“You're safe then, Emelia?” I asked.

“I am,” she said. “At least for the moment. I don't know what's going to happen when my father brings Tony around.”

For a moment, I feared that maybe this was goodbye. I thought that perhaps now that she was back at home, was safe and happy, that what we had between us was going to evaporate. That it had all been an illusion – or at least something that was temporary and easily cast aside. My heart ached at the mere thought of it, but if that was what she truly wanted – I would have no choice but to honor her wishes.

“Please come get me, Deacon,” she said, her voice choked with tears. “I'm begging you. I can't be here anymore. I only want to be with you.”

“Everything is okay, right?” I asked. “You're not being hurt or anything like that?”

“Of course everything is okay. And no, I'm not being hurt. Everything is back to normal around here. The status quo has been restored,” I said. “My dad doesn't even suspect that there's anything between us. And he doesn't know about the baby. Not yet. And he won't until I'm far, far away from this house. I can't stay here. I won't. I miss you, Deacon.”

“I miss you too, Emelia.”

“So that means you'll come get me? And we can run away together like we talked about? We can go somewhere far away?” she laughed, but I could also tell she'd been crying.

“Of course, love,” I said softly. “In fact, I'm already on the road.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I love you, Deacon. And I want to be with you. Need to be with you.”

“I love you too, Emmy.”

There were more voices in the background. “I have to go, Deacon,” she said quickly. “But you have my number, so call me when you're close and I'll figure something out. But be careful. My father is looking for you. He said he's going to do terrible things to you, so please, please be careful.”

She hung up and the phone went dead before I could say anything else. Hearing her begging me to come save her nearly brought tears to my eyes – and I wasn't the type of man who cried very easily. In fact, I couldn't recall the last time I cried. But this girl, she did something to me that I couldn't explain. She had a way of getting into my head and twisting my thoughts and emotions all around. I couldn't think straight when I was near her and my head always seemed to be in the clouds.

Emelia was special. She was unlike anybody I'd ever known before and she really seemed to fill holes within me that I never knew existed before she fell into my life. And I knew I'd never be the same again because of her. I had to get her back.

And there I was, heading back into town with both my Brothers and the Italian mafia on my ass, looking to kill me. If I were smart, I would have been running far away, not running toward the danger. If I were smart, I would have been putting as many miles between me and Chicago as humanly possible and would never set foot on those streets again.

But my Emmy wanted me to come get her – and how could I say no to that?

I couldn't. Which was why I was willingly walking back into the lion's den.

Emelia

“Who were you talking to on the phone earlier, Emelia?” my father asked me, his eyes narrowing as he stared at me.

“A friend,” I said, staring down at my plate, feeling anything but hungry in that moment.

Esme had prepared a lavish feast to celebrate my return. She'd cooked all of my favorites, but I honestly didn't think I could keep anything down even if I'd wanted to. Tony was sitting next to me, holding my hand, and it took everything in me not to slap his hand away from mine. I didn't want to touch him. I didn't want him anywhere near me. The simple fact that he was holding my hand sent waves of revulsion sweeping through me and I was fighting the urge to throw up then and there.

“A friend?” my father pressed. “And which friend might that be, dear?”

“Just one of my friends, dad. You wouldn't know him.”

I flinched as soon as I said the word “him” because I knew that would only bring on more questions – from both my father and Tony. But it had just slipped out.

“Him, huh?” Tony asked, taking a long swallow of wine and then laughing. “Sounds like I've got some competition, eh?”

Tony – my fiance thanks to my father's meddling – was much older than me and repulsed me in ways I never knew I could be repulsed before. Maybe to some people, he'd be considered good looking. Perhaps even distinguished. But he smelled like stale cigarettes, had yellowed teeth from smoking too much and his face took on that pale, pinched look of someone who was already starting to age – and not very well.

I saw nothing attractive about him, and I was convinced that anyone who said otherwise only saw one thing – his money. And there was no question, Tony had a lot of money.

But to hell with money. I didn't want or need Tony's money. And I certainly didn't want to be tied down to that old man – much less sleep with him night after night – just so I could go shopping whenever I wanted to without having to worry about the price tags.

And there was no way in hell I wanted to be saddled with that disgusting old man now that I knew what real love was like.

“Not like that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He's just a friend of mine.”

“You've remained pure for me, haven't you?” Tony asked, even with my father sitting right there. “Not been whoring yourself around, have you? Because you know that your purity is very important to me. Very important.”

“Of course not,” I said, feeling my stomach churn. “I mean, I'm not whoring around. I am a good girl. Always have been, always will be. I was raised well, Tony.”

Tony's hand moved off my hand and slid down my leg until it was resting on my thigh. He smiled and gave me a gentle squeeze. I thought I might actually throw up as he leered at me. My body stiffened up and I no longer could stomach eating my dinner as he stroked my thigh, moving higher and higher, sliding his hand ever closer to my most intimate parts – parts that he would never see. Not in this lifetime, anyway.

“Please don't,” I muttered under my breath.

I looked at Tony, and if he'd heard me, he gave no indication. My guess though, was that he already considered me his property and felt entitled to do whatever he wished, whenever he wished it. So he ignored my request. Instead, he continued to stroke my thigh through my pants and my stomach roiled. I couldn't speak, I just stared at my plate and tried to pretend this wasn't happening. That he wasn't groping me in front of my father.

My father stared hard at me. I knew he knew exactly what Tony was doing right there at his dinner table – and yet, he was doing nothing about it. I had the irrational urge to grab my knife and slit both of their throats right then and there. But I took a deep breath and tried to will myself to relax. Doing something rash – knowing that Deacon was coming for me – wouldn't be smart. And I really needed to play things smart for the moment.

“I don't think it's wise of you to be talking to other men, Emelia,” my father said. “Not this close to your wedding, and not without supervision. I just think it sends a very poor message. And we wouldn't want to do that, now would we?”

“What am I, a prisoner?” I snapped. “I thought you rescued me from my kidnappers. I didn't realize I was going to have to have somebody babysit me twenty four hours a day, monitoring my calls or who I talk to.”

As soon as I said it, I knew I shouldn't have. Tony grabbed my inner thigh, pinching the skin roughly, making me yelp in pain. I looked at him with hatred burning in my eyes. It would be so easy to bury my knife in his soft, fleshy throat. He'd never see it coming and I could have it buried to the hilt before he even reacted. And it took everything in me to keep myself from doing just that.

“No, you're not a prisoner,” my father said, staring at me with a serious, grim expression on his face. “But sometimes, a father knows what's best for his daughter. And right now, I'm just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me from who?” I asked, staring at Tony.

My father wasn't doing a very good job of protecting me from Tony right now – and that was obviously who I needed protection from.

“From Deacon, of course,” my dad said.

“Why would you – ”

“Don't assume I'm stupid or naive, Emelia,” my dad said, his voice rising. “I know how to check phone records. I know a lot more than you think I do. There is literally nothing that goes on in this house that I don't know about. You would do well to remember that while you're living under my roof.”

“What do you know exactly, father?” I said. “What is there to know? That I called Deacon? Big deal.”

Tony moved to pinch me again, but I grabbed his hand roughly and pulled it away from my thigh. He looked at me, an expression of surprise on his face – and a light in his eyes that said I would pay for that insolence later, when my father wasn't present and couldn't stop him. I had no doubt that Tony was the kind of man who liked to slap his women around. Beat them. Maybe worse. And I knew that he viewed me as a spirited horse that needed to be broken – and that he would enjoy trying to do just that.

My father wiped his mouth with his napkin and smiled. “I know that you and Deacon were close. I know that you let him in,” he said. “Because my men had been watching you, for some time actually, before swooping in and picking you up from that motel. I also know you called him earlier today, on the cell phone I gave you. Which is no longer in your possession, I might add.”

I had left the phone on the desk in my room before coming down for dinner, but my father dropped it upon the table with a thud. I stared at him, my mouth agape and a cold finger of dread sliding up my spine.

“Why did you even let me have it then?” I growled. “If you were only going to use it to spy on me?”

“Because I knew you'd reach out to him,” my dad said, smiling ever so wide, “I also knew he'd come for you, child. And trust me when I say that we have plans for Deacon Murphy. Big plans for him. I can't wait, actually. And I'm excited that you get to watch what we do to him.”

My heart sank and a knot tightened painfully in my belly. All of this was a trap, and now, there I was, a prisoner in my own home, completely unable to reach out to Deacon to warn him. He was going to walk into an ambush that was likely going to get him killed and it was all my fault.

“Why are you doing this, father?” I asked, tears welling in my eyes. “You have me back now. Why not just let him go?”

“Because he took something that belongs to me,” my father said. “And not only that, he took something that belonged to Tony as well. And for that, I'm going to let Tony have some fun with him too. He is going to pay a steep price for thinking he could just waltz in and take that which was not his. He – and his entire brood – need to learn their place.”

I stared at the two men who were now grinning at me, waiting for me to say something. But my heart hurt too much. It was breaking at the mere thought of them hurting Deacon. I wanted to scream, cry, to fight back. But there was nothing I could do. Tony had put his hand on my thigh again and gripped it even tighter. And the way he looked at me – like I was a piece of meat ready to be devoured – scared me to death. If he knew I was no longer a virgin, did that mean he was going to have his way with me long before our wedding? Would my father let him?

I looked at my dad, and I so badly wanted to plead with him. I so badly wanted to hurt him.

“I'm not an object, dad,” I said, the tears sliding down my cheeks. “I'm your little girl. Why are you doing this to me?”

His eyes softened slightly – but only for a moment. They returned to the cold, hard chips of diamond that they usually were. Devoid of all emotion.

“The question should be, why did you do this to me, Emelia?” he asked. “Why did you betray your family like this?”

“I didn't – I didn't mean to,” I pleaded. “It just happened, but I promise – I won't stray again. I swear it. Just leave him be, father.”

“No, you won't do this again,” he said. “That much, I can guarantee.”

“Just leave Deacon out of this,” I said. “Please.”

Both men laughed – and not just the evil little chuckles of bad men doing bad things. No, these were full on belly laughs that shook their entire bodies. I remained silent, not sure what was so funny, but apparently it was something they thought was hilarious. The longer they laughed, the angrier I grew. But before I could unleash a verbal assault, my father spoke.

“No way, Emelia,” he said. “Like I told you, he took something that belonged to me, and he's going to pay. Dearly. There's nothing you can do about it now.”

ooo000ooo

Tony had tried to follow me to my bedroom – and I had no doubt what was going through his mind – but my father stopped him. Thankfully.

“What? She's already been with a man, why does it matter?” he asked, pitching his voice loud enough that I could hear him.

“You're still under my roof and she's still my daughter,” my father said. “I don't want that happening down the hall from where I'm sleeping. Wait until she's yours, Tony. Then, feel free to do with her whatever you wish.”

Tony grumbled, but I was thankful. I looked back down at the two men who stared at me with open hostility and disdain. I was a dirty, vile thing to them – nothing more than used merchandise. My father was likely angry about that, and Tony – well Tony would just use that as an excuse to take whatever he wanted from me whenever he wanted. I had no doubts that he believed I was going to be made to pay for my sins by his hand. I had no doubt that he would take every opportunity to degrade and humiliate me.

I had to make sure he never got the chance. Neither one of them knew I was pregnant with Deacon's child – and I shuddered to think what they would do to me if they did know. All I knew for certain was that I didn't want to find out.

Even though they didn't follow me, I knew there were people watching me. I knew I wasn't alone. My father showed that he didn't trust me, which told me that he was going to keep eyes on me every minute of every day. If I was going to make a break for it, I was going to have to be incredibly clever. Or incredibly lucky.

As I slipped into my room, I walked over to the patio door, hoping to step out and get some fresh air. But I found that the door wouldn't open. I fumbled with the lock and rattled the door, hoping that it was just stuck. But looking down, I saw why it wouldn't budge and my heart sank. My father had sealed the doors shut. I wasn't going out that way.

I went over to my window. Same thing. Then to the bathroom where I checked the tiny window above the bath – and it too was sealed shut. As if he expected me to slink out of a tiny window on the second story of our home. I was well and truly trapped inside my room with absolutely no way out of it.

Suddenly, I felt very claustrophobic. I was literally locked away, a prisoner in my own home. No way to reach out to Deacon, no way to even escape from the home. No phone, no internet. No way of communicating with the outside world at all. I had nothing.

I fell against the bathroom door, drew my knees up to my chest and buried my head in my hands, as I started to panic. I felt like I was on the verge of hyperventilating and my heart was racing like I'd just run a marathon. I was scared not just for me and my unborn child, but also for Deacon. My father had set up a trap for him, and I had unwittingly lured Deacon right into it.

I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let him be hurt. As much as I wanted to have this baby, if it meant Deacon would be dead and I'd be tied to Tony for the rest of my life, then I might as well be dead. There was no way I coud live with Tony and without Deacon. I wouldn't.

And you better bet, I was going to fight like hell to make sure none of that happened.

DEACON

I was at a gas station outside the city, debating with myself about what my next move should be. I hadn't heard from Emelia since that first phone call, and I wasn't sure if I should call her back or not. I didn't want her to get in trouble, and I sure as hell didn't want for us to be discovered – who knew what kind of danger that would put her in if her father found out I was calling.

I knew where the Antonelli's lived, that wasn't the issue. But I also knew there was no way I could just stroll up to the front door and ask for Emelia. There was no way I was going to be able to just walk up in there and save the day – at least, now without at least a hundred armed guards drawing down on me. No, going up to the front doors was out of the question – it would only end with me in a body bag.

I stared at my phone, debating about whether or not I should call her. I knew that I had to worry about calling her because I feared that doing so would only be putting her in danger. Without knowing what was going on inside that house, I couldn't be sure what was happening – or what might happen. I couldn't be sure of anything honestly.

With no better options presenting themselves to me, I decided to reach out to an old friend – someone I'd trusted more than anyone else at one point in time. But he was part of the group that had led the coup that ousted me from my own Brotherhood. I didn't know how deeply involved with the group he was and I couldn't be certain if he was working with Colin and Sean's guys or not. I had to hope that despite everything that happened, when the chips were down, he would remain loyal to me.

And there was only one way to find out.

I looked at my phone and took a deep breath, letting it out as I dialed up his number and then waited for him to answer. As I listened to the ringing on the line, I realized that I was using a burner and he wouldn't have this phone number, so he might not answer. But I held out hope that I'd get lucky.

“Hey, who's this?” the voice said on the other end of the phone.

“Neil?” I said. “It's – ”

Before I could even say my name, he recognized my voice and when he spoke, I thought I heard something that sounded like relief in his voice.

“Deacon?” he asked. “Is that really you, man?”

“Yeah, it's me,” I said. “I'm sorry to call you like this – ”

“Listen, man, the others wouldn't be too happy if they knew you were calling me, but I'm just glad to hear you're alive. You planning on coming back and kicking a little ass? Going to take the big seat back?”

I cringed at the question he'd asked. At one time, the Brothers had been my entire life. I'd worked my ass off to get to the top of the heap. I'd battled to put myself in the big seat, to put myself in a position to make the calls and command their respect. I'd given my life to those guys and to the Brotherhood.

But after what went down – and now knowing about Emelia and the baby – I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk getting back into the life. And suprisingly enough, I found I didn't want to get back into it. At one time, the life had appealed to me. Had sent a jolt of electricity through me. But now? Now, it was just something I'd done – a life filled with some things I'd done that I regretted. I didn't want to be part of that life anymore.

“Nah, man,” I said quietly. “I think the Brotherhood is probably better with somebody else in charge, you know? After all that went down, I don't think I can get back into the big seat. It wouldn't be the same and I'd always be wondering who was plotting to take me down next.”

“We miss you, brother,” he said. “At least some of us do, anyway. And we'd most definitely love to see you back in charge, man. These guys are dicks.”

“Not going to happen, Neil,” I said. “I don't see how it would even be possible, honestly. But that's not why I'm calling. That's a bridge we'll cross another time. No, what I need to know is whether or not you know anything about the Antonellis? I know Colin was working with the old man, didn't know if others were too, but – ”

“Yeah, we are,” Neil said. “Or rather, some of the guys are. I'm just going along with whatever to keep myself from getting killed. I didn't think you were alive or I'd have – ”

'”It's okay, I'm not blaming you for anything,” I said. “It's not your fault, man.”

Neil sounded surprised by how easily I let this betrayal go – but I knew it would help me in the end. Or at least, I hoped it would.

“In fact,” I went on, “if you have any intel on the Antonelli's, that would be incredibly helpful right now.”

“Intel? Like what?” Neil asked. “What are you plannin' Deacon?”

“It's hard to explain, and I doubt you'll understand it all anyway, Neil. And besides, the less you know is probably safer for you,” I said. “But what I need to know is whether you got anything about their household. Anything at all could help.”

“Honestly, I don't know much,” Neil said. “I'm not trusted with that kind of inside info, man. I'm barely hanging on over here, you know?”

“I know. I figured as much, but I wanted to ask anyway,” I said with a sigh.

As much as I appreciated Neil's loyalty, it would seem like he was not going to be of any use to me after all. At least, not in that moment – which meant it was probably best to keep on good terms with him.

“Thank you, Neil,” I said. “If you hear anything – ”

“Yeah, of course. No sweat, man,” he said. “But I gotta tell you, I hate working with these assholes. We have some fancy ball or shit at the house tomorrow night. Colin's tellin' everyone they have to go to this stupid shit and – ”

“Everyone?”

“Well at least within their network. Colin's saying it's a business event, of sorts,” he said. “I dunno, just that I have to wear a fancy tie and shit and I'm not looking forward to it in the least. But at least there's gonna be food catered in from some fancy restaurant, so it's not a total loss, I guess.”

“Sounds like fun,” I said sarcastically.

It actually sounded like the exact opposite of fun and something I never would have done in the big seat – I never would have climbed into bed with scum like Antonelli. Never in a million years. But I knew that with both Antonellis' men and the Irish there, it would be a well-guarded building. So at least I knew to avoid heading over there tomorrow night unless I wanted to get myself shot.

But as the thoughts swirled through my mind, an idea suddenly started to form. Admittedly, it wasn't the brightest or sanest of ideas, but it was an idea nonetheless – which was more than I had five minutes ago.

“So hey,” I asked. “What's being catered in? You know the name of the restaurant?”

“I dunno exactly. I guess Antonelli's aunt owns some restaurant downtown – I can't remember the name off hand,” he said. “Some family business, that's all I know. And it's supposed to be the best Italian food in Chicago, so hey – free food, right? That's a win.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Anyway, I should run. But thanks again, man. I appreciate you talking to me.”

“Sorry I couldn't be of much help,” he said.

“Nah, you were great,” I said.

Neil thought he hadn't been of much help to me, but he really didn't have any idea how much he'd actually helped me out. Even though I trusted Neil and believed him when he'd said that he – and others – wanted to see me back in the big seat, I just couldn't trust him enough to let him in on the plan. When it came to Emelia, I couldn't really trust anybody. Wouldn't. Not when her life and her safety were on the line.

Thankfully though, he had never been the brightest guy in the group and didn't stop to ask questions others might have. Which worked for me. Because when we hung up, and I immediately Googled the family restaurant, trying to dig up the name.

And it didn't take long for the name to pop up. Domenicos. Perfect. I got the address and I was off to scope the place out and see what I could see. Because when tomorrow night rolled around, I was going to be ready.

I was getting into that house one way or another, even if it killed me. And I knew going in that the chances were good, it just might.

EMELIA

I clung to the bedspread that was covering me up and hiding away from my father, Tony, and the rest of the world. Staring up at the ceiling, I still couldn't believe I was back there, in the home I'd grown up in. It was beautiful and decadent, there was no question about it. But as luxurious as it was there, I'd take a cheap hotel that had a bed with a lumpy, uncomfortable mattress with Deacon any day over this. I wanted out. And I wanted out quickly. The problem was, I just wasn't sure how I would go about getting myself out.

Not knowing what else to do, I tried to turn my thoughts from my current predicament to something else. Anything. But as I laid there, my mind seemed to gravitate naturally toward Deacon. I missed laying next to his naked body, feeling the hard angles and planes of his body pressed to mine. I missed the way he touched me, the way he kissed me. I missed the scent of his body, the sound of his voice.

I yearned for him with such an intensity that my body ached with a need I feared may never be met again. Closing my eyes and feeling that familiar fire ignite between my thighs whenever I thought of him, I let my hand slide down lower on my body. I imagined Deacon hovering above me, kissing me deeply as he pressed himself against me and that fire low inside of me started to burn out of control.

I feared that I might never experience Decon sexually again – my fantasies might be all that I had left. As I touched myself, I imagined that it was him touching me – his fingers circling my clit, pressing against my opening. My body arched upward and I craved more. I needed more.

Reaching into my bedside table, I pulled out the vibrator I'd used countless times before Deacon came into my life. It was long and thick and meant to feel realistic – but there was absolutely nothing in this world that would ever feel the same as having his hard, thick, throbbing cock inside of me – I knew that now. Still, it would have to do.

Turning it on low, I massaged my clit as I imagined Deacon's tongue licking and savoring my pussy. He knew exactly how to make me cum in a matter of seconds using nothing but his tongue. I pressed it firmly against me, circling and teasing myself – but the vibrator wasn't getting me anywhere close. Not yet.

So, I shifted my thoughts to remembering the way he'd filled me up and stretched me open with his cock. And as my pussy grew hotter and wetter as the memories flooded my mind, I shoved the vibrator deep inside of me. I gasped, shuddering as I got used to the sensation. With my eyes closed, my back arched as I moved it in and out of me, I eventually got myself so lost in the fantasies, I could almost feel Deacon fucking me.

“Yes, yes,” I muttered, my head pushing back against my pillow.

I bit my lip so hard, trying to keep quiet, that I winced at the pain and tasted the blood trickled into my mouth. I buried the vibrator deep inside of my tight little pussy and arched my body upward, feeling the tightness in my belly as well as my pussy, and of course, warmth that always came before my climax.

“Deacon, oh God, Deacon...”

I shoved the fake dick inside of me again. And again. And again. As my vision filled with his face and I strained my senses, trying to feel himself fucking me, I pounded the vibrator into my pussy hard and faster. My back was arching upward as I finally reached the peak and then gave myself one good, hard thrust and sent myself over the top of it.

As the sensation of electricity running along my nerve endings rocketed through my body, I groaned and tried so hard to keep quiet. The last thing I needed was for my father to burst in here to see who I was fucking. Or worst yet, hear me calling out my lover's name – imaginary though he might be at the moment – as I came hard for him.

Deacon. Oh God, Deacon. I needed you so badly. I thought to myself. I need to feel you inside of me again and this vibrator just isn't cutting it.

As my orgasm slowly subsided, I slid the vibrator out of me – it was predictably, soaking wet and covered in my juices. I imagined Deacon would get a kick out of seeing like that – I even imagined that he enjoyed tasting me so much, he'd probably lick it clean.

I didn't know when – or if – I'd ever see him again. So, at least for the moment, all I had were the memories of my lover. They were comforting and sweet, and they'd help keep me content, helping me drift off to sleep. At least for the moment.

But as I lay there, alone in my bed, traces of my orgasm still tingling in my body and yet, still unsatisfied, I found myself wishing and hoping for the impossible – for Deacon to rescue me.

I wished and hoped that he'd save me, and not end up dead by my father's hand. I wished and hoped that we could run away to some exotic land where we could raise our child and live happily ever after.

But I was a big girl now, and I knew that happily ever afters only existed in fairy tales. So for now, my dreams would have to do. I would have to find solace and comfort in them. But as I thought about it, I wanted to cry, not knowing whether or not that was all I was going to have. Forever.

ooo000ooo

“You're doing what?” I asked my father. “I've only been home a day. Do we seriously have to rush things anymore than we already are?”

He shrugged. “I'm afraid there isn't much choice,” he said. “Tony is anxious to get this done.”

Get this done. Like I was a job or a business transaction that had to be checked off his to-do list. Hearing that my father was making things with Tony official though – announcing my engagement and the pending wedding date to that sick, old son of a bitch – made me sick to my stomach. I needed more time. A lot more time. Maybe like all the time.

While many little girls dream of the day they announce their engagement to the world – and I probably had too at one point – this wasn't what I had in mind. Not anywhere near what I would have imagined. I wanted to scream I wanted to cry. I thought about all those years I'd saved myself, not giving in to temptation every time a cute boy hit on me as a teen and into college – it wasn't so I could give it away to a disgusting creature like Tony.

“The sooner we get things settled with him, the better for everybody involved,” he said. “I'm not well, Emelia.”

My father looked at me and for a moment, I saw a flash of sadness in his eyes. At one time, when he talked about his death, I assumed he was sad about leaving me and wanted to make sure I was taken care of when he was gone. But now, with everything that had happened – and was happening – I realized he was only sad because his time left on this earth was drawing to an end, and he would no longer be able to run his organization. He would no longer be able to wield the power and control he once had – always had.

“You and Tony will continue the Antonelli legacy,” he said. “And I want – no, I need – to make sure you're taken care of before I die.”

“You're not going to die tomorrow, papa,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Doctors say you still have months to live. Maybe even years. They don't know for sure.”

“But I'm not the same man I was. I'm weak – and growing weaker by the day – and my enemies know it,” he said. “And that's why Deacon was able to kidnap my daughter the way he did. Because I'm weak. But Tony is not weak, Emelia. He's very strong. Very powerful. He will be able to protect you and keep you safe in a way I no longer can. And of course, he will make sure you're able to keep our family's proud legacy alive.”

“Sounds like you're more worried about your legacy than you are me,” I said, feeling my irritation growing.

I knew I shouldn't have said anything, but I did anyway. I was upset by the cavalier way my father talked about me needing protection – about making sure to safeguard and carry on our family's legacy. He didn't even seem to care about me – his daughter. I was nothing more than a poker chip that he could play to make sure he stayed in the game – long after he was gone.

Of course, my impudence and what I'd said earned me the very predictable and not entirely unexpected backhand across the face. I held my hand up to my stinging cheek, but rather than cry, I narrowed my eyes and gritted my teeth. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. But that slap did more to encourage me to get the hell out of there, away from my father and the Antonelli name, than anything else he could have said or done. It reinforced my notion that I was nothing but a tradeable commodity to him – not that it needed much reinforcement.

“This family is everything to me, Emelia. Everything,” he said, his voice burning with a quiet intensity. “It's what I've worked so hard for. It's what I've bled for. It's what I've sacrificed everything for. You're one small part of it, yes, but only part of it. I have countless other people who depend on me – who will depend on you one day too, to keep things running smoothly. You would do very well to remember that, dear daughter. This family name – that you seem to so willingly scorn – is all that you have. And it can open many doors for you.”

“You mean depend on Tony. These other people you talk about will have to depend on Tony,” I said. “Because they wouldn't suffer having a woman in charge.”

My father could smack me again, it didn't matter. I didn't care anymore. No matter what he did, I was going to say my piece. He was going to hear me. I'd make sure of it. The pain of his hand hitting me was no match for the pain in my heart anyway. He'd hurt me too much for too long, and I wasn't about to hold back now. I was well beyond that point.

My father didn't say anything to that though. There was nothing to say. Nothing he could say. I was right and it was the God's honest truth. There was absolutely nothing he could say to dispute it and nothing I could do to change it. That's just how things were in the little empire he'd built. How things would always be.

“Why are you fighting me so hard on this, Emelia?” my dad asked. “Before the kidnapping, you were okay with all of this. You were happy with Tony. And you were willing to do sacrifice for this family. You were willing to do what needed to be done. And believe me when I say, it's going to happen sooner or later anyway. We might as well do it while I can still walk my baby girl down the aisle.”

He was wrong. I was never okay with any of it. Ever. But I'd along with it all because I saw no way out. Back then, I'd believed that I was stuck. Trapped. With no means or opportunity to escape.

But now, I saw that I had an opportunity to get out of the life. A way out from under this family, the name, and all of the bullshit it brought with it. And after I'd had a taste of it, there was no way I would go back to it. Not easily or willingly, at least.

And besides, my father didn't know about the baby growing inside of me. Deacon's baby. I already knew that there was no way Tony would raise another man's child – nor would I even give him the opportunity to. And there was no way in hell I was giving up my child or going to watch it be neglected or abused by a cretin like Tony.

“If only I was still your baby girl, father,” I said, smiling weakly. “I miss those days. The days when being your baby girl was enough. When I was enough. The days I actually thought you loved me.”

“I do love – ” he started to say, but I never heard him finish his statement.

By the time he'd started to speak, I'd already walked out. I didn't need to hear anymore of his pathetic lies or bullshit manipulations. If he truly loved me like he claimed to, what he was doing to me was one hell of a way to show it.

DEACON

Domenicos. Owned and operated by the Antonelli family since 1964. Nice place, all things considered, but not the type of place I'd ever be seen at. For good reason, obviously. It was old, traditional, and had a loyal clientele. But I didn't see anything overly special about it. Looking at it, I thought it looked like your typical Italian eatery.

It was supposed to be the best in Chicago. But somehow, I doubted that. I'd eaten in some fantastic Italian places and I doubted this place would measure up. But I wasn't about to test it out for myself.

No, I knew I couldn't afford be seen inside the joint, just in case someone recognized me. So, instead of going inside, I hung out back, watching the catering trucks loading up for the even out at Antonelli's place. Last night, I'd done the same thing from a safe distance. I'd watched to get a feel for the flow of things, see how they worked, what they did. And I also wanted to get a good look at the employees. Last night, I'd done the same thing, but tonight was different. Tonight, maybe they didn't realize it, but I was going to be tagging along with them to Antonelli's place.

There was one man, a large, pot-bellied Italian guy, who stood on the back dock and barked orders at the others. Several of the other workers did most of the heavy lifting while Boss Man was content to hurl insults at them and generally be an ass. Sounded about right based on what I knew about the Antonelli's. Boss Man went back inside, yelling that the driver should be ready to head out. Poor sap, he had no idea what was coming. If I didn't need to do what I was about to do, I'd feel bad for the guy. But I needed to get into Antonelli's, and this was my only ticket in.

Before he even saw me, I was on top of him. I used the baton I was carrying to hit him over the head – not badly enough to kill him, just bad enough to put him to sleep for a while. He was going to have a wicked headache when he woke up, but at least he was going to wake up. I quickly pulled his limp body behind the dumpster, stripped off his clothes and located the key to the truck in the pocket.

Now I looked like an employee of Domenicos. More or less. I pulled the hat down low over my face, trying to keep anybody from getting a good look at me. And then, with key in hand, I walked over to the truck, climbed in, and started it up.

As I rumbled away from the restaurant with my load of hot food, I thought that this had all been too easy. Not that I thought the entire mission would be that simple, but at least that part had gone off without a hitch. Made me feel like maybe luck was on my side and that I could get in, get Emelia, and get out again without too much of a problem.

Behind the wheel of the catering truck, I could just drive up and enter the premises, no questions asked. As long as no one recognized my face, I should be fine. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

ooo000ooo

As expected, when I approached the gates, the guards just motioned me past without even giving me a second glance. Fools. I waved at them and they nodded back, not so much as looking at me as they carried on their conversation. I drove down the long, curved driveway until I saw the Antonelli mansion up ahead. I'd never personally seen it with my own eyes, so I was blown away by what I saw. It was as large as people had said it was, but it really was a beautiful, elegant home. It's just too bad it housed one of the biggest assholes on the planet.

As I pulled around the circular drive, I saw that there were at least a dozen men in dark suits – guards. And I had zero doubt believing that they were all armed. What worried me was that although I could see a dozen, I had a feeling there were just as many – if not more – I couldn't see. Getting in and out might not be nearly as easy as I'd hoped, but I'd find a way. I always did.

A guard motioned for me to stop the truck, so I complied. He walked up to the driver's side door, looking at me, and for a brief moment, I thought things were about to go sideways . I held my hand on my gun, well out of his sight – afraid that he might recognize me. The adrenaline was already coursing through my veins and my heart was hammering in my chest. I didn't want to fight right then and there, but I would if I had to.

“You're supposed to pull this piece of shit around back,” he said, pointing toward more driveway. “The kitchen is located back there. The staff will be back there to help you unload. Now, get going, you're running late already.”

Not wanting to speak – my accent was hard to hide – I simply nodded and did as I was told.

I pulled around back and shut the truck off. As I climbed from the truck, I unlocked the back where the food was, like I assumed a real employee would, and did my level best to act completely normal. A woman came up and started speaking to me in broken English, telling me – or at least, doing her best to tell me – where to take everything.

She was a tall, exotic looking woman and seemed a little to clean cut to be part of the kitchen staff. Plus, she wasn't wearing the uniform I saw some of the others buzzing around in, so I assumed she was probably in charge of the event. Probably a party planner or whatever it was they called those people who organized events like this.

Her phone rang and with an annoyed expression on her face, she walked inside with the phone pressed to her ear, yelling into the phone about something – but she was speaking Italian so I couln't understand a word she was saying. I just prayed it had nothing to do with the naked, unconscious driver I'd left behind the dumpster.

I knew I should have killed him and stashed his body somewhere it wouldn't be found, but Emelia had apparently made me soft. She'd started to dull the edge of what had made me so effective in the big seat of the Brotherhood. But the guy I'd clubbed was nothing more than a low-level catering employee. He was just a guy doing a job and was probably no relation to this God-awful family. Yet, he could be my undoing. Because I'd chosen to spare his life than do what needed to be done.

With a nervous knot in my stomach, I watched the woman on the phone carefully, looking for any sign that she knew I wasn't the real driver. And once she was inside the house, I stopped what I was doing and quickly rushed into the kitchen, a tray full of pasta in my hands. I pretended to be looking for somewhere to put it as I walked into the dining room, all the while keeping an eye on her – and an ear out for the sound of Antonelli's men approaching. My body was tense and the gun under my shirt pressed into my skin reassuringly as I watched and waited, ready for a fight if it came to that.

As I walked into the kitchen and saw the dining area beyond, my eyes grew wide when I saw the number of people in attendance. All of them dangerous. All of them powerful. And almost all of them would recognize me in a heartbeat.

Keep your head down, Deacon, I said to myself as I pushed my way through the crowd. I tried to keep an eye out for Emelia, but that was easier said than done. There were so many people that I could have walked right by and not been able to see her in the crowd.

“Over there!” The woman from earlier shouted. “Where are you going, idiot.”

She grabbed my shoulder and yanked me over to the buffet table. Her eyes were narrowed, her nostrils flared, and the pinched, sour expression on her face made her look like she'd just sucked on a lemon. Yeah, I bet she was a real peach to work for.

“The food goes here,” she said. “Were you not paying attention to what I said? Are you a moron or something?”

Having her in my face berating me was pissing me off and I wanted to get right back in her face. But I held myself in check. The last thing I needed was to cause a scene and draw unncessary attention to myself. The woman was annoying as hell, but at least I knew they hadn't found the other driver yet.

She walked away, and I heard her say, “Mr. Antonelli, the food is arriving, do you want to make your announcement soon?”

I turned, following the sound of her voice and I saw old man Antonelli standing next to Tony. They both looked incredibly pleased with themselves as they stood there like best friends, with a glasses of wine in hand. I quickly looked away and pulled my hat a little lower, focusing my attention on the pasta I was sitting out on the buffet table. It was at that moment, somebody walked up and stood next to me.

“Excuse me,” they said, and I turned without thinking, finding myself face-to-face Neil.

Neil's eyes grew wide – as did my own – and I hissed, “Be quiet.”

“Deacon, it's – how did – ”

“Be quiet,” I said again, looking around to see if anyone was watching. “Have you seen Emelia?”

“She hasn't come down yet. Rumor has it, she's pissed off and is refusing,” Neil whispered, trying not to draw attention to himself as he spoke under his breath.

“So she's in her room?” I asked. “Do you know where that is?”

“Do I look like the type of person who knows where Emelia Antonelli's room is?”

Good point. I gave him a shrug and a weak smile.

“Now Neil, just walk away from me, okay? Just turn and leave, you hear me?” I said. “Don't you dare say a word about this to anyone. Nobody can know I'm here. Nobody, man. And I have a gun if things go south – I'll shoot my way out if needs be. But if things are cool, I'll slink out of here with Emelia and everything will be just fine. Got it?”

He nodded, but he was as pale as a ghost. “Yeah, sure. Got it.”

“Can I trust you?”

“Yes, Deacon,” he said. “You can trust me. Always.”

“Good boy,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.

As he turned and left, I knew it would be hard for Neil to stay quiet. He'd undoubtedly want to tell some of the Brohters I was there – the ones he perhaps mistakenly believed remained loyal to me. But I couldn't afford for him to breathe a word. I was left to hope and pray that he would remain quiet about my presence there.

“Attention everyone,” Antonelli intoned, his voice raised to be heard above the crowd as he clinked his glass. “My daughter, the beautiful Emelia, might be under the weather this evening, but I know she appreciates each and every one of you for attending tonight. So, thank you one and all for being here.”

Yeah, I'm sure she really appreciates everybody being there on such a joyous occasion, I thought to myself. Given the old man's announcement I had to wonder if that meant she wasn't planning on coming down at all. If that were the case, slipping upstairs and finding her room could be a piece of cake.

I'd just started to get my hopes up for a quick, quiet exit, when the old man answered my question.

“My beautiful daughter will be making an appearance shortly,” he said, “but for now, the appetizers should be coming out shortly, so please, help yourself.”

Appetizers. A bolt of adrenaline shot through me as I realized that was on me – the food was my responsibility. As the crowd turned toward the buffet table, I quickly turned away, rushing off to the kitchen with my head down. I didn't hear any raised voices or anybody calling my name, so I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that nobody had seen me.

“Where are the appetizers?” the woman – looking even angrier than before – demanded the moment I stepped into the kitchen.

I had to admit, I wanted to punch her in her fucking face right then and there and be done with her. Ordinarily, I would never let anybody talk to me like that. But this wasn't an ordinary situation and I had to just eat shit and feign a smile.

“They should have gone out before the pasta, you idiot,” she railed at me. “You have one job, moron. Seriously, one fucking job. And you can't even seem to get that right. Where are the others?”

That was a question I couldn't answer, so I just shrugged, content to let her figure it out on her own.

“Can't speak? Cat got your tongue?” she asked, her eyes growing even narrower, her face even more pinched. “My, they really are scraping the bottom of the barrel for decent help over there, aren't they?”

She picked up her phone and called someone and I heard her asking where the rest of the help was at. I walked back outside and looked over the trays until I found one label “apps.”

Grabbing it, I turned and looked up at the house, staring at the windows, trying to discern which room might be Emelia's. There was deck on the second floor that I thought could be Emelia's room. Maybe. There was a window that was partially open, and through it, I heard music. As I stared at it, I started to wonder – could that be it? There was a light on inside the room as well, meaning someone was in there. But there was no way to see if it was really her room or not.

“Hurry up, idiot!” The woman yelled from the kitchen door.

I resisted the urge to throw the food down and knock her out because I had to keep up the charade. I had to keep this act going until I got to Emelia. But if I had my way, one day, all of these crooked assholes would pay. And pay dearly for how they not only treated me, but for how they treated Emelia as well. And I would have my way. Every single one of these pricks was going to pay a price.

Emmy, I'm coming for you, I thought to myself as I carried the tray of food inside.

Deacon

Scowling, I put the appetizers down on the table and still saw no sign of Emelia. After tossing the food down, I slipped off to the side of the crowd, slowly but surely making my way to the hallway – and out of that room. There was nothing good for me in there. But I had to make my movements look natural and do everything I could to avoid drawing attention to myself.

But just as I slipped off into the hallway, I ran smack dab into one of Antonelli's men. Because of course, I did. If not for bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all.

“Where the fuck do you think you're going?” he said, his expression one of annoyance.

“I'm looking for a bathroom,” I said, trying to hide my Irish accent as much as possible. “I gotta take a piss.”

The man tilted his head to the side, trying to get a good look at my face, but I stared down at the ground, trying to look deferential instead of like I was hiding something.

“You a Brit or something?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I said, my heart racing and my body tensing – it was entirely possible I was going to have to take this guy out if he didn't buy my act.

I was hoping this idiot couldn't tell the difference between a British accent and an Irish one. And I had to hope that he wouldn't mention our little encounter to anyone else. I sure was pinning a lot of my plans – not to mention, my life – on hopes and wishes.

He laughed, shaking his head, and said, “Bathroom is down on the left, boy. But don't let old man Antonelli catch you slacking off down there. He'll have your head.”

“Yes, sir,” I said again, biting any and all rage I had inside of me. “I'll get right back to work when I'm done.”

I hated being treated like a servant, like a piece of trash beneath even Antonelli's hired thugs. I could tolerate a lot of things in life, but disrespect was not one of them. But I had to check myself, suck it all down, and deal with it. For now. Because there was a bigger picture at stake – Emelia's life. And I couldn't risk letting my pride get in the way of saving Emmy.

The man walked away, not even bothering to look back at me. I was just another lowly working stiff not even worthy of his contempt, apparently. I walked slowly down the hallway toward the bathroom, and started to step inside. But then looked back behind me to see if the guard was still down there. But the hallway was empty now.

A little further down the hall was a staircase that led upstairs. I had a good feeling that Emmy's bedroom was up there. And I was thinking that it was probably the one with the lights on and the music playing loudly inside. Sounded like something she'd do – turn her music up loud enough to block out the sounds of everyone else downstairs. She was a defiant one, that was for certain, and was one of the biggest things that I admired about her. I loved her spirit and her spunk.

I kept my eyes peeled for more guards and slipped up the stairs as fast as I could, my hand on my gun just in case I ran into somebody watching the top. But as I stepped onto the second floor landing and looked around, I was relieved to find that it was empty. Everyone was apparently, downstairs. Thankfully so.

I slipped down the hallway toward the sound of music that was echoing around the corridor. It was a beautiful song, but not one I recognized. As I reached the doorway, I had footsteps – and voices – coming from the staircase behind me. Glancing around, I saw that there was another bathroom just down the hall from the room. Rushing to the open door, I quickly slipped inside and closed it enough that I could still see out through the crack. I just prayed they weren't coming upstairs to use the bathroom because the downstairs bathroom was occupied. That could be disastrous.

My jaw tightened and my eyes narrowed almost reflexively when I saw that it was old man Antonelli in the hallway. He was talking, softly, to someone. I couldn't make out who it was though. But then he knocked on the door loud enough to be heard over the music coming from inside.

“Emelia?” he called out. “Are you getting dressed?”

No answer from inside the room. But at least I knew I was at the right door, I just needed them to leave so I could get inside, grab Emelia, and get the hell out of there.

“You better get your dress on,” Antonelli said. “Everyone is waiting for you. It's very poor form to keep them waiting much longer.”

Again, no answer from inside the room – just the music.

“She'll come down eventually,” Antonelli said to whoever it was.

“You sure about that?” the voice asked.

It was the Italian woman from the kitchen who'd been barking orders at me earlier. The fact that Antonelli was talking to her like he was made me think that maybe she was more than just a party planner. But I had no idea who she was or what her part in this whole fiasco was.

“Even if she doesn't, the party will go on without her,” he said. “One way or another, the engagement will be announced along with the wedding date. If she chooses to not be part of the announcement party, so be it. It's not like she is going to have much of a choice when it comes to attending the wedding.”

I closed my eyes and felt my jaw clench tight as I listened to them talking about marrying my girl off to some scumbag. A scumbag I knew she wanted no part of. But I focused on the big picture, kepe my cool, and remained hidden, silently reminding myself to say calm and in control. I was this close to getting her out of there. We were that close to having the freedom to build our life together. All I needed was for the two assholes in the hallway to leave.

Their sudden silence made me open my eyes and look out into the hallway. They were gone. No footsteps, no more voices. Nothing but the beautiful music coming from Emelia's room. I opened the bathroom door and carefully looked up and down the hallway before stepping out of my hiding spot. I gingerly moved back down the hall and when I stood in front of her door, I knocked quietly. At first, I wasn't sure if she heard me, so I knocked again – a little louder the second time.

“Go away. I'm not coming down,” her voice called out. “Leave me the hell alone.”

As quietly as I could muster and still be heard, I said, “Emmy, it's me. Deacon – ”

I wasn't even finished with my sentence before the door flew inward and Emelia pulled me into her room, slamming the door behind us and kissing me like I had never been kissed before. It was a little breathtaking and dizzying, but it felt so good. So right. And I wanted that moment to last forever.

But it couldn't. We needed to get out of there. But I contented myself with the knowledge that we would have a lifetime together to make even more moments just like that. I broke our kiss and holding onto her arms, took a step back and smiled at her. Damn, it was good to see her.

“You stupid, stupid man – ” she said, but she was smiling.

“What a nice way to greet the man you love,” I teased. “Especially after he risked his life to save you.”

“Deacon, God, I'm so happy to see you, but you were so stupid to come tonight. Of all nights!” she said. “Did you see who's down there? We've got a house full of people who want to kill you. You do realize that, don't you?”

“I did. I know. Trust me. Got a good look at all of 'em, Emmy,” I said. “But there was no way in hell I was going to let you spend one more night here. There was no way in hell I wasn't coming for you. You had to know that.”

“You couldn't spend one more night away from me, you mean,” she grinned. “It's okay to admit it.”

“That too,” I said.

“So what's the plan now?” she asked, running a hand down the front of my body, the expression on her face one of awe, like she couldn't believe I was actually standing there in front of her. “We can't really walk out there together, not like this. If anybody sees you, they're going to cut your head off, Deacon.”

“I hadn't really thought through all of that just yet. I figured we'd jump off that bridge when we got to it,” I said. “But, now that we're here, you have any brilliant ideas?”

Emelia nodded, but bit her lip. “It's risky and we'll have to be patient, but I think it might be better to wait until the party is over. My father will be drunk – so will many of his men – and we might actually be able to sneak past the guards.”

I looked to the patio door, but Emelia read my mind.

“All sealed up, I'm afraid,” she said. “We're locked in.”

“Sealed up?” I asked, not sure if I heard her right.

“Yep. I'm a prisoner in my own home. Charming, don't you think?” She was still holding onto me, and in that moment, she turned and smiled, placing her head on my chest. “I'm so glad you're here, Deacon. I was afraid – ”

“I'm going to get you out of this,” I said. “Don't worry.”

“I know you will,” she smiled softly. “I never doubted it for a moment.”

My heart raced as I looked into her eyes. This girl – she was quickly becoming my everything. Losing my brothers – or most of them at least – would have torn me apart before. I would have been lost. Adrift. Completely rudderless. But now, with Emelia in my life, things were different. For the first time in my life, I could see myself in a world without my brothers. Without the life. I could actually see myself running away, starting fresh, and getting out of this life altogether.

“Where do you want to go, Emmy?” I asked softly. “When we're out of here, I mean? The worlds is open to us, so where do you want to go?”

She looked up at me again and a smile spread across that beautiful face. “Argentina,” she said firmly. “I hear Buenos Aires is a gorgeous city, and we could totally get lost in the crowds there.”

“Sounds wonderful,” I whispered. “Anywhere you want to go, sweetie. Just say the word and I will whisk you away. I would be happy anywhere, so long as I'm with you. ”

Emelia stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on my lips. As she did so, her hands worked at the buttons of my pants.

“Hey there – ” I said, my voice nervous as I glanced toward the door.

“It's locked,” she said. “From the inside. Dead bolt at the top. No one is getting in without my permission.”

“But what if your father comes back up?” I asked. “If your other door is sealed shut, how am I supposed to get out?”

She shrugged. “Well then, I guess we'll have to be quiet,” she said. “Besides, don't you like living life on the edge?”

She shot me a mischievous grin, and I couldn't deny the idea of making love to her in her own house – with her father downstairs, no less – wasn't an incredible turn-on.

She had deftly removed my pants and they slid down to the floor, pooling around my ankles.

“Besides, we have a few hours to burn, why not make the most of it?” she teased.

I smiled wide. She obviously enjoyed this little bit of danger as much as I did. I think for her, the whole idea of having sex with her father's enemy in her home, while her so-called engagement party went on downstairs, was just too hot and too tempting to pass up.

Emelia dropped to her knees while looking up at me, a salacious little smile on her lips. Her dark hair contrasted with her pale features so beautifully that it nearly took my breath away. And when she took my cock between her lips, my knees literally went weak. My breath caught in my throat and I had to make a concerted effort to not let my legs buckle right there in front of her.

“You drive me absolutely crazy, you know that?” I said.

But she couldn't respond. Not with her mouth filled up with my cock and all. She moved up and down on my shaft, licking and sucking me like I was a lollipop, all while looking up at me with the sexiest look in her eyes. I groaned as the sensations from her working on me with her mouth and her hands at the same time made my skin feel like it was on fire.

I ran my hands through her long hair, but resisted pushing her mouth further down on me. She was doing a hell of a job of sucking me off as it was, and I didn't want to shoot my load that quickly. Not even if the idea of coming in her mouth and all over her face turned me on so fucking bad – which it did. Very much so, in fact. But I wanted to enjoy her. Every last bit of her.

Emelia's hand moved up and down my cock along with her mouth, while she used the other to play with my balls.

“Fuck,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut and enjoying the sensation.

I was enjoying having my cock in her mouth a bit too much, because I felt myself coming ever so close to orgasm and needed her to stop. I didn't want her to stop, but I needed her to.

“Stop, Emelia. I'm going to come...”

“Then come for me, baby,” she said, taking my cock out of her mouth long enough to speak. “Let me taste your cum.”

“But I want to – ”

She smiled, tightened her grip on my cock, and went back to sucking me.

“I want to – ”

I couldn't form a coherent sentence, not with her mouth on my dick and her hand on my balls. I was seriously going to lose control while she sucked and jerked me, and I didn't like to lose control. As much as I wanted to shoot my seed down her tiny little throat, I needed to be inside of her. I needed to make her come too. Not just wanted. Needed.

So I lifted her up, forcing her to pull those sweet lips from my erection, and pushed her down on the bed. She smiled, staring up at me with such need. I quickly removed her clothes so she was lying naked before me, as sexy as ever against her burgundy velvet bedding.

She was so beautiful.

And I needed to fuck her.

I was going to fuck her.

EMELIA

Deacon's cock was wet with my saliva, and soon, it was going to be wet with my juices. I pulled him down on top of me, his shirt still on, and wrapped my legs tightly around his waist. With one hand, I grabbed his stiff dick and guided him toward my opening, suddenly desperate in my need to feel him filling me up. But Deacon hesitated, just pressing against me without entering. He smiled down at me, a playful look in his eyes.

I thrust my hips upward, “Please, Deacon. Please,” I begged. “I need to feel you in me.”

My pussy was aching with need. I missed feeling his cock inside of me so fucking much and needed him to fill me up. I needed every inch of him inside of me like I needed air or water to live. Deacon held my face in his hand, forcing me to look into his beautiful blue eyes. He gave me a small, slow grin as he thrust hard with his hips and buried himself deep inside me, drawing a gasp of surprise, mixed with a touch of pain and one hell of a lot of pleasure, from my lips.

The look on his face was one of pure bliss as he spread me open. We both let out groans of pleasure as our bodies got used to being together like this again. Though it hadn't been all that long, it still felt like the first time – something I hope never, ever changed about our lovemaking.

Deacon started slowly, rocking back and forth on top of me, kissing me as he fucked me.

I ran my hands up and down his back, scratching gently as he moved in and out of me. My legs wrapped tighter around his waist so that every time he pulled out, mybody lifted up with his. I moved with him, our bodies in perfect rhythm, perfect harmony, making each thrust go deeper and deeper.

“Yes, baby, yes,” I said, feeling that familiar warmth spread throughout my entire body.

Everything Deacon was doing felt amazing and I let him have complete control of my body, encouraging him to do whatever he pleased. But just as I felt myself reaching the peak, Deacon surprised me, flipping us over so I was on top – all while his cock remained buried deep inside of me.

Now on top, I sat up and looked down at him as Deacon cupped my breasts, staring at me like I was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Just the way he looked at me made me grow even wetter, the fire between my thighs burning out of control.

With a look of absolute hunger in his eyes, he played with my nipples, making me gasp as he pinched them, while I ground against him, my clit rubbing against his pelvic bone, making me shudder and moan with absolute pleasure.

Being on top gave me complete control and within minutes, I climaxed – my entire body bucking wildly as the spasms of my orgasm tore through my body. Deacon held onto me, moving my wildly shuddering body up and down on his cock as I called out his name over and over again.

“Deacon, yes, Deacon – Oh God...”

Thankfully, the music was loud – as I hoped the crowd downstairs was as well – so it was hopefully drowning out all my cries of pleasure as I came hard, my pussy tightening around Deacon's dick like a clenched fist. Deacon's eyes were rolling into the back of his head as I kept fucking him. His body was tense and he seemed to be close to losing it too – but he was fighting to prolong our lovemaking. Oh God, he was fighting so hard, and as much as I wanted us to keep going all night, I also wanted him to orgasm with me. I wanted him to feel every bit as amazing as I did.

Squeezing my muscles down tight around him, I stared deep into his eyes and begged him, “Come for me baby. Please – fill me with your hot cum. I want it. I need it.”

And just like that, with my dirty talk ringing in his ears, he grabbed onto my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh, and thrust himself upward. He was buried deeper inside of me than he had ever been and he cried out as his body shuddered.

“Emelia, fuck baby, I'm coming... ”

And as his body throbbed and pulsed beneath me, he filled me with his cock and with an animalistic grunt, he shot his seed deep inside my pussy. I gasped wildly and came again as I watched the look of pleasure fill his eyes. We rocked back and forth together, savoring the feeling of our bodies coming together, until the very last wave of intense sensation washed over us.

I collapsed on top of him, and he held me close. I could hear his heart beating fast, and we both struggled to regain our breathing.

“God, I love you, Emelia,” he said, pushing my sweat-drenched hair from my face so he could look at me. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, Deacon,” I said, smiling wide.

I pulled myself off his cock, his juices running down my thighs, as I laid down beside him. Curled up next to him, I could almost let myself forget where we were. I could almost pretend we were somewhere else. Somewhere beautiful. I could almost pretend that we were in our own little world – just me and Deacon. But one look at the walls around me reminded me where we were and shattered that little fantasy.

As I stared into the eyes of the man I loved, I couldn't wait until I was free from my father. My family name. Free from the prison I was being confined in to live my life out with the man I loved – the father of my growing child.

ooo000ooo

We dozed, on and off, in my bed until the party downstairs started to grow quiet. My father tried one more time to get me to come down to greet his guests, but I just continued to ignore him. He left, after screaming at me through the door that I was a disgrace, that I was dishonoring my family name, and shouted that whether I liked it or not, I was going to marry Tony.

It was easy to ignore him and laugh it off, because in the end though, he joke was going ot be on him.

I looked at Deacon and stifled my laughter as my dad threatened me a million different ways. Deacon looked upset, like he wanted to murder someone – like my father – but I held him close and told him that soon, we'd be out of there. I soothed him by saying that soon enough, we'd be free.

Eventually, everything downstairs grew silent. The party was over and it was time to go. And as we prepared to leave, Deacon handed me a gun. I stared down at it then back at him.

“Just in case,” he said with a wink.

I nodded. I knew we might run into a guard or some drunk asshole looking for a fight. Maybe even both. I took the gun, figuring that it was better to be safe than sorry.

Deacon stepped into the hallway first, looking both ways to make sure it was clear, even though I told him it would be better if I did. Just in case. But he refused to let me go out first, fearing that there was danger lurking in the corridor outside my room. He looked carefully, listened even more carefully, and made sure it was clear. When he was satisfied that it was, he motioned for me to follow him out.

We just needed to get to the bottom of the stairs and if all was clear there, then we could slip out the back. Deacon said he had driven a truck to my father's house – and that was what we were planning on escaping in. We just had to hope that the restaurant didn't have someone else drive it back or else we'd be hoofing it on foot. And if that was the case, it meant a long walk from my dad's property to the main road, and eventually back into town.

But no matter how far we had to walk or how long it took, it didn't matter to me. Every single step away from my father's house – and my father's life – was a step closer to living my own life. With Deacon. And our child. A step closer to a life filled with happiness and love.

We made it down the stairs and got to the end of the hallway just fine. We paused, listening and waiting before we continued down the stairs. For a moment, I thought this was going to be easy and I felt my heart filling with hope. Freedom was close at hand.

But no, I couldn't have been more wrong about that.

Coming up the stairs, at the same time we were coming down, was one of my dad's guards. A man named Gerardo. He stopped, a puzzled expression on his face. He looked at me first, then over to Deacon. It took a moment, but I saw the alarm begin to spread across his face as he comprehended what was happening. But before he could raise his gun, Deacon was on him. Gunshots could potentially wake up my father – and anybody else in the house – so we needed to keep it as quiet as possible. Not that the sound of an all out brawl was quiet, but it was better than gunfire.

I watched Deacon struggling with the man and wasn't sure what we were going to do. He seemed to be getting the upper hand, maneuvering himself around behind Gerardo and putting him in a headlock. The guard grunted and looked pained, but he kept struggling, kept fighting, uselessly batting at Deacon's arms with his fists.

“Look away, Emelia,” Deacon whispered, his voice strained with the effort.

I quickly did as I was told – not that it helped much. The cracking sounds I heard as Deacon broke the man's neck would forever be ingrained into my skull. Slightly winded, Deacon dropped the man's lifeless body onto the stairs, Gerardo's head was bent at an impossible angle and his eyes were glassy and fixed on a point far beyond the house. Deacon took my hand, trying to snap me out of it. I pulled my gaze away from the body and looked at him, feeling my stomach churning.

“I'm sorry – ” he said.

I shook my head. This was no time to get squeamish. I knew that getting out of the house and away from my father wasn't going to be easy – and figured it wasn't going to be pretty either. I knew the possibility existed that people were going to die. But it was easier to grasp when it was an abstract concept – seeing an actual body was a whole different ballgame.

But I had to be a big girl. I had to suck it up. If I wanted out of this life and away from my father, if I wanted to go away somewhere and build my life with Deacon, I had to simply get over it and push forward.

“It had to be done,” I said, trying not to look at the guard.

I couldn't think of him as Gerardo, not anymore. He was dead. He was gone. He was but a faceless stranger to me now. An enemy that stood in the way of my freedom. We'd done what had to be done.

Deacon and I continued down the stairs, and he looked ahead of us, searching for the threats that lay between us and the back door. When it was clear, he motioned for me to follow him down the hallway again. We walked quickly but quietly toward the ballroom and all remained silent. The further we got from the stairs – and the closer we got to the back door – had me feeling good about our chances of slipping out of this prison once more.

The big, heavy doors that led out the back were closed, which meant we couldn't see outside. And I knew from experience that they made a thunderous sound when someone pulled them open. Getting out meant we were going to make some noise. But we had no choice. If we wanted to earn our freedom, we were going to have to roll the dice.

Deacon looked at me, and I nodded, taking a deep breath. I was ready – gun in my hand and at the ready if needed. And judging by the set to his jaw and the look in his eye, he was as ready as I was.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the big, heavy doors. They squealed as mightily as I knew they would, making me wince.

But as soon as he had the doors open, and the cool night air was flowing past us, we found ourselves face-to-face with Tony and three other men. All of them Irish. All of them, his former brothers.

EMELIA

“Deacon, old pal, lovely to see you, lad,” one of the Irishmen said. “What do you think you're doin' here? And where are ya goin' with the lassie?”

Deacon didn't answer. He stared hard at the gathered men and I could see that he was formulating his plan in his head. He looked at me, trying to tell me something with his eyes – something I wasn't getting. I'd never been in a situation like this before and had no idea what I was doing.

But I knew that if we were going to go down, I was going to go down fighting. I wouldn't be dragged back into that life again. Not when I had all I wanted in the world standing beside me.

When Deacon moved, it was smoothly and it was quickly. Before anybody had even registered what he was doing – let alone react to it – he'd raised his arm and squeezed off a shot. The bullet tore through the man who'd just spoken, a fount of blood spraying from the wound in his shoulder. The Irishman squealed in pain and dropped to the ground, clutching his wounded arm. It was a non-lethal hit – I had to give him credit for that.

But with three others in front of us – and raising their weapons – playtime was over. It was time to shoot to kill.

Tony took several steps toward me just as the other two Irishmen moved on Deacon. I raised my arm and held my gun steady on Tony. He glared at me, shaking with rage, his face dark and his eyes filled with the promise of a painful retribution.

“Don't make me do this,” I said, my hands shaking.

More gunshots and men screaming rang out, shattering the stillness of the night air, but I couldn't look away from Tony. I was afraid that if I allowed my attention to be diverted, he'd move on me and I wouldn't be able to stop him. I had little doubt that Tony would kill me for what I was doing – so there was no way I was going to give him the chance.

No, my gaze remained on Tony, and only Tony, as he walked toward me, his face growing ever darker with each step.

“You wouldn't shoot me, princess,” he said. “You're a lot of things – like an ungrateful little bitch for starters – but you're not a killer. You don't have it in you. I can see the fear in your eyes.”

“Don't call her princess,” Deacon said as he stepped up beside me. “And you should apologize for calling her a bitch, while you're at it.”

I cracked a smile. He remembered how I felt about terms of endearment like that. It was patronizing and condescending, and when someone like Tony used them, it filled me with a deep, abiding anger. I could deal with a lot of things, but being patronized or condescended to were things I couldn't deal with. Wouldn't deal with. From anybody.

I considered taking a play from Deacon's book and aiming for the shoulder as I squeezed off a shot – mostly just to prove to the old son of a bitch that I could indeed pull the trigger. But Tony lunged toward me suddenly and I shot on reflex. The noise the gun made as it went off sounded like a cannon and the shockwave from the recoil reverberated all the way up my arm and into my shoulder. It had a kick stronger than I'd anticipated.

Because it had all happened so fast, Deacon hadn't even reacted in time and I'd been unable to focus on where I was shooting. I didn't have the time to aim as Tony lunged for me. His body collided with mine, knocking me to the ground, and driving the air from my lungs. I screamed as his body pinned mine to the ground. It took me a moment to realize Tony wasn't moving. And until Deacon reached down and pulled the old man off of me, I hadn't even realized where the bullet I'd fired had hit.

Right smack dab in the middle of his chest. His blood was pouring all over me and when he looked into my eyes, I saw pain blended with hate radiating within them. If he'd had the strength, he would have strangled me right then and there.

Tony, while not dead, was going to be soon. If he didn't get help, anyway. But I got the feeling that nobody at my father's house was going to go out of their way for him. I didn't think that anybody would be calling an ambulance – at least, not for a little while.

Deacon hauled me to my feet and I looked down at myself – grimacing at the sight of Tony's blood covering me. I looked up and saw that of the three who'd been standing with Tony, only one of the Irishmen remained. I didn't know why he was still alive, but he was just standing there, looking back at us. He wasn't holding a weapon and he didn't look threatening.

I didn't understand what was happening, but Deacon kept his gun trained on him. The other man though, held his hands up and didn't make any overtly threatening gestures. Simply judging by his body language, I didn't think he was going to be a problem for us – the look on his face told me that he respected Deacon. Liked him.

“Neil, let us past,” Deacon said. “Please. I don't want to hurt you. That's the last thing I want, brother.”

“Your truck is gone, man,” the man named Neil replied. “How are you going to get out of here?”

“We'll find a way,” Deacon replied. “Don't make me shoot you too. You know I don't want to do it, but I will if I have to.”

“You wouldn't – ” But Neil must have seen the look in Deacon's eyes because he stopped talking and looked down at the ground. “I'm sorry it's come to this, brother. I never wanted this. I really didn't.”

“I didn't want it to come to this either, man,” Deacon said. “Trust me on that, Neil. I didn't want this either. I just wanted something – different.”

“Here!” Neil said, tossing something over to him.

Deacon stared down at what was in his hand for a moment before looking back at his friend, a questioning look upon his face. He held up the keyring to me and dropped it into my hand.

“It's one of your cars anyway,” Neil said and smiled. “Figured you might like it back. Should help you get where you're going.”

Deacon thanked Neil and we rushed from the back of the house and toward a car parked out front. Climbing inside quickly, we drove off as fast as humanly possible, leaving my father and my former life behind. For good.

Reaching out, I took Deacon's hand in mine. Things might not be easy from here on out. We were alone and we would struggle. But we had each other, and soon enough, we'd have a child. Maybe several more. Life was already beginning to look up.

“Buenos Aires, here we come, baby,” Deacon said, winking at me.

I smiled as I looked back at him. I was free. For the first time in my life, I was free.

THE END