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I gaze into his eyes. “Were you really watching me the whole time I was gone?” I ask.
“You’ll get no apologies. I protect what’s mine and make no doubt about it, you are mine today, tomorrow, and always, Angel.”
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Excitedto read Matt and Marenah’s full story? A hot bodyguard meets an innocent mafia princess with perilous secrets. Will danger kill their chance at love? Read Undercover the next exciting protector novel.
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UNDERCOVER
To my husband, thank you for always believing in me, supporting my passions, and helping me make all my dreams come true.
1
MARENAH
The need tounearth the dirty secrets of my father drives me more than it should. A mafia kingpin that has shunned and denied his offspring for years. A man apparently in love with our mother, but who couldn’t trade the life of luxury his wife’s trust fund afforded him and his control over the city of Chicago for the love of my mother and the twin daughters he brought into the world.
This is only part of what fuels my anger, the other is the suspicion that he is part of an underground network helping to pluck innocent women and children from their homes and sell them to the highest bidder. It is that belief that has me hanging out in one of the most notorious bars in the city with my best friend Liza, who doesn’t have a clue why we’re here. I just want to snoop, check it out and gain more insight into the bastard’s life and I take in all the comings and goings in the bar while we chat and have a couple mixed drinks.
A couple hours later, I’ve decided we’ll go when I come out of the restroom and see two men dragging another man down a flight of stairs at the end of the hallway. The door hinge squeaks and the big burly guy glances up and I slink into the wall, hoping he didn’t see me. They don’t come after me, instead go about their business and close the door, but I know that if they saw me, they will.
It gives me a short window of time to get back to Liza, hand her my phone and give her instructions while I push the button on my necklace to call for backup. I’m seated at the bar when the bodyguards stalk toward me and I glare at Liza to do as I’ve instructed. She hesitates for a moment, and I know she’s scared to leave me, but when finally she walks out of the bar I can breath a little easier knowing that she can get a message to my sister.
The two men grab my hands and their touch makes my skin crawl but I pretend to be friendly, smiling at each of them while they make a show of accusing me of hustling drugs in their establishment. The one shows me the gun he has drawn, hidden to everyone but me and it sends a shiver of apprehension down my spine, but I’ll be damned if these pricks see it.
I watch for any opportunity to escape, but it is nonexistent with the way they’re restraining my hands, holding them behind my back, so high that my shoulders ache with their hold. I know how to handle myself but one misplaced kick could cause an innocent bystander to get shot in the cross fire if the dumbass decides to shoot.
“One word and this gets a lot worse,” the burly guy says as they guide me past the backs of people at the bar who are talking with the bartender and paying no attention whatsoever to anything going on around them as they march me toward the back of the bar and through the door that leads downstairs. The tall lean guy closes it behind us, staying upstairs and as soon as he does the burly guy puts his gun away, grabs my hair and wraps it around his hand to drag me down the rest of the stairs.
He shouldn’t have left my feet and arms free at the same time that he put his weapon away, though. I grab hold of his hand, the one on my hair as we get to the bottom and he turns. I use his arm to keep my balance as I drive my knee straight into his groin, and before he can even react, slam it right back into him again, this time harder than the last and push him roughly as he keels in half with the pain of the blow.
I shoot up the stairs, taking them two at a time and as I reach for the door, ready to sprint through the bar and out to freedom it opens and the lean guy points his gun right in my face. “Down you go, doll,” he says, seemingly in no hurry at all as I walk backward trying to catch my breath. He watches my chest heave up and down with angst. I hold onto the long wooden banister tightly as I carefully try to gain my footing before taking a step backward, one step at a time until we reach the very bottom.
I turn, and the burly guy who’s upright but in obvious pain crashes his hand against the delicate cheekbone of my face, striking me hard. I try my best not to react, instead, leveling him with a gaze of indifference. This seems to infuriate him even more. He grabs my hair, dragging me over to a set of chains suspended from the ceiling and connected to the cement floor. He quickly restrains my hands behind my back and attaches them to the chain, leaving me secured but with the ability to move.
The man is leering at me, raking his eyes all the way down my body and then grabs both of my breasts with his meaty hands. He moves in closer, intending to kiss me but my knee drives straight into his groin again. “Fuck! Fuck!” he yells, hauling his hand back and smacking me right across the face again.
“Quit dicking around over there. Boss just called. We need to go, we’ll deal with her later,” the tall, lean man says, leering over at me. “We’ll make her pay when we have a lot more time,” he says to the burly guy still holding his nuts.
“Why don’t you spend some time taking in all of the toys on the wall? Fantasize about how we’re going to take care of you when we get back. Scream all you want, no one will hear you, these walls are completely soundproof for a reason,” the tall guy says as the two of them take off up the stairs.
I shiver because these people are merciless and this bar is owned by their boss, kingpin of the Chicago Mafia who is rumored to be even more so. Frederik Bernatelli, beloved trusted husband, father, and grandfather and upstanding community member to all on the surface, but the most feared mafia kingpin to ever rule the streets of Chicago. The man that has denied my sister and I exist, and the man that will always hold a place in my heart, hatred of the worst kind, my father.
I expect them to come back any minute, but they don’t and they’re right about the sound-proofing. I should be able to hear people walking around in the bar upstairs, but instead, it is eerily quiet. The dim light casts shadows of some of the equipment on the walls; tools of torture, weapons the old world family would have used and instruments they clearly intend for me. I need to focus on a way out, keep my head clear and not let the thought of what could happen get the best of me.
They will come back for me. What I need to figure out is how the hell to get free from these restraints. I need to get one of those weapons, because the moment I do, those bastards won’t live to see another day. Try as I might, hour after hour, it is useless and the realization that they will soon return and my backup is not coming hits me hard. These binds are not going anywhere and now I need to rest if I am going to be ready when they come for me.
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when the pain in my wrist wakes me. I twist my cuffs to get a little relief. I do a quick assessment of my fingers, pinching them together. I still have feeling, they haven’t gone completely numb. The bastards probably have something far worse in store for me and want me to feel everything they do to me. I shake my thoughts and try to relieve some of the pain as I contemplate how I can get the drop on them when they come for me.
I hear the door above me open and close, and mentally prepare myself for what comes next. I know these animals, I’ve been studying my father’s empire for the last four years.
The only way to get out of this alive is to get a gun and I know exactly what that means. I need to draw one of them in, make them want to release me from the chain so that my hands are free. The thought makes me shudder and shameful, but it’s the only way I’m going to get free. I’m contemplating my options for seduction when the big burly guy walks down the steps. Excellent! He’s alone, and I play my seduction line over in my mind, but the door opens again and his partner scrambles down the stairs to join him. They walk right by me and enter another door across the room, closing it behind them. In mere moments, they are half-dragging a man into the room. He’s giving them a run for their money, his lean muscles rippling with every twist or turn he makes, but even in the dim light I can tell his face is bruised and battered and that he’s been roughed up pretty badly. They finally manage to restrain him to the chain suspended from the ceiling next to me and they’re both out of breath when they stand back to gloat at their victory.
“Let them hang for a while. We have orders, and need to talk,” the tall, lanky but muscly man says to the burly guy. He rakes my body with his eyes, slow, taking me in, head to toe. “Soon,” he says before he and his partner make their way up the stairs, leaving me alone with the man dangling beside me.
