Perfect Monster: A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance (The Oligarchs)

I refilled my whiskey and tried not to think about Cassie.

The look on her face as I made her come was like heaven. Pure bliss, part fear, all desire. She was at my mercy, at her most exposed, open to me like a flower that only bloomed once in its lifetime under the exact perfect circumstances.

I wanted that look again.

But something kept bothering me. I hated this feeling—like there was something I left unfinished.

I stood up and paced my office.

This never happened to me. I never second-guessed myself, not in a very long time. I learned very young that hesitation could get me killed.

My brother Anthony taught me that.

And later, my father reinforced the lesson the worst way imaginable.

I tightened my grip on the glass. I could still remember that crisp winter morning. I woke up from nightmares of that frozen-over lake, the ice barely thick enough to hold the weight of a young, shivering boy, barely twelve years old with sandy blond hair and bright green eyes and a big smile, the only good thing in my life.

My older brother spent half his days surviving and the other half trying to protect me from our father’s repulsive training.

There were the swims. The long distance runs. The fighting, the beating, the shouting. There were and endless string of tutors: math and science, history and art, languages, so many languages all jumbled up in my head.

Through it all, Anthony was there to help. We kept each other afloat.

I didn’t quite appreciate how badly I needed that support until that freezing cold morning. Until Father forced Anthony out onto the ice.

“No,” I said out loud, forcing myself back into the present. I couldn’t let my mind drift there again. My body vibrated with anxiety and I felt that strange, sinking pulsing feeling in my gut and my feet, the same feeling I got whenever I thought about the day I lost Anthony and my life changed forever.

Like my toes were frozen. Like my skin was frostbitten.

I threw back the whiskey, but it wouldn’t help. Nothing would help, not when I got like this. Though maybe if I drank enough, I’d pass out before I could delve too deep into my past.

“No,” I said again, clenching my jaw, and shoved my office door open. I wasn’t doing this, not now, not tonight when there were so many more important things for me to do. I didn’t need to keep reliving that one half-hour stretch of my life over and over again, letting each detail sink deeper into my skin, scarring me, ripping me into pieces and reaffirming why I was doing all of this.

It wasn’t for my father, though on the face of it, I was trying to get revenge for him.

It was for me. It was for control and power.

Because without power, anyone could hurt me and kill the people I care about.

With it, there wasn’t a man in this world that could touch the family I’ve created.

Cassie’s room was midway down the hall. I hesitated outside of it, wondering if this was a bad idea, but I wanted to check on her. I left her at a bad moment, post-orgasm, wondering what the hell she was going to do about this situation.

I left her alone and afraid to dwell on what I said.

And on what I’d done.

But now I wanted to make sure she was okay.

I cleared my throat and knocked. Silence for a beat, then: “Come in.”

I opened the door.

Cassie was curled up near the fireplace. It crackled and radiated a steady, even warmth. It was a gas burner and lacked the smell and the charm of wood, but it still made the air in her room hot and heavy with humidity.

She looked up and tilted her chin into the air.

“Came to force me into another contract?”

“No, I already got what I wanted out of you.’

She grimaced. That was the wrong thing to say. I cursed inwardly.

I was out of practice being kind.

I shut the door and walked toward her, but didn’t get too close.

“What do you want, Roman? I haven’t decided if I’m going to play your game or not yet.” She stared at the fire, her face drawn and exhausted.

“I wanted to make sure you were doing okay after what happened.”

“You mean after you held me down and had your way with me? Or after you tricked me into marrying you?”

“Both. But I like to think you were an equal partner in the pool.”

“Like I could’ve stopped you.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but you didn’t tell me to stop.”

Her eyes flashed anger. There it was, the Cassie I liked. The rage-filled Cassie, the scarred and broken Cassie. The girl that hated the world and I didn’t know why.

“I’m not interested in you trying to justify yourself.”

“Please, Cassie. I seem to recall you coming nice and hard on my fingers then licking them clean when I was done.”

“I seem to recall biting you hard enough to break skin.”

I touched my lip. It still ached. I ran my tongue along the wound, staring at her. “I’ll let you do it again if you’ll put on that bikini for me again.”

“Is that why you’re here? You came over to try and get yours now?”

“No, I came to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” She pulled her knees tighter. “Just leave me alone, okay? I’m still not sure what the hell I’m doing here.”

“You’re playing my wife. That’s all you’re doing.” I stepped closer, heart racing. I loved the interplay of anger and sadness and a deep-seated insecurity that was definitely tied to that scar, however it happened. A little flower, a little doll. I wanted to peel her open and taste her.

Feast on her. Break her.

“You know what I think?” She looked at me, gaze sharp. I tilted my head, tried not to smile.

“What do you think, kukolka?”

“I think you need me more than you’re letting on. Maybe you can go forward with this plan of yours if I decide I won’t roll over and give you everything you want, but I have a feeling it’ll be a lot harder.”

I crack then. The smart fucking girl. I give her the tightest, barest hint of a smirk.

“You might be right.”

“Then I have some leverage. And I’m using that leverage to tell you to go to hell.”

“You don’t have as much leverage as you think. It’s true that your cooperation would make my life a lot easier, but do you really think I’m the kind of man to let my plans hinge entirely on an unknown? On something that I can’t control?”

Her jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed. “Bullshit.”

“Not bullshit. I won’t lie to you. I can keep you locked away down here for months if I have to and still manage to take care of my business. Things would simply go faster and smoother if you played your role.”

“And what exactly is that role?” She stood up suddenly, unfolding like a whip. Her eyes stormed at me, liquid lightning, an entire hurricane in that stare.

My heart raced with desire. God, I wanted her to fight back.

I wanted her to bite me until it bled.

“An obedient wife. I want you to be madly, deeply, stupidly in love with me. I want you to convince the MacKenna family that you’re mine, and that your father and Oisin MacKenna can’t do a thing about it.”

“And what do I get out of all this? You already told me you won’t let the Italians kill me. Do why would I bother?”

I laughed softly. “You want something? Alright then. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

She hesitated, head cocked to the side, hands balled into fists.

“Bullshit.”

“Anything,” I repeated, enunciating the word. “You name it, and if it’s even remotely within my power, I will make it happen for you. Money and power? It’s yours. You want a mansion in the Hollywood hills? You want a harem of eager men? You want an airplane hanger filled with designer clothes? Anything you want, Cassie. I think you’d be surprised how far my reach extends.”

She stared for several long beats. I watched my words drive a wedge inside of her. She wanted to keep fighting, but the temptation of anything was too much to bear.

Like I wanted it to be.

It was true though. Whatever she asked for, I’d try and make it happen, no matter how painful it might be.

Only so long as she obeyed and played my game.

Now I had her attention.

“I have to think about it.” She looked almost disappointed, like she anticipated fighting harder, but I sucked the adrenaline from her veins.

“I’ll give you two days. After that, I’m moving forward with or without you.”

“Two days isn’t very long to decide if I want to sell my soul to a monster.”

“It isn’t your soul I want. Only your body.” I closed the distance between us faster than she could react. She tried to pull away as I caught her by the waist and pushed her down against the couch, pinning her there, my one knee between her legs, my right hand tangled in her hair.

Her plump lips opened, her tongue pressed against that adorable gap in her front teeth. Her eyes widened and the pulse at her throat quickened.

If I reached between her legs I’d find her dripping wet.

She hated me. That was obvious, and I couldn’t blame her. I tricked her into marrying me and that wasn’t a great foundation for a relationship.

But she wanted me just as badly.

And that, oh that was all I needed.

“What’s wrong with you? Why do you think you can just take whatever you want?”

“There’s nothing stopping me.” I tilted my head. “Are you going to?”

“I might. If I tried.”

“I don’t think so, little Cassie. I don’t think you want me to stop. You’re angry, and I don’t blame you, but I think you like it when I push you down, when I bite your lip.” I moved close, feigning toward her mouth, but she turned away as I predicted—

And fell into my trap. I lowered my lips to her earlobe, kissed it, opened my mouth, and bit down hard.

She gasped and arched her back.

I didn’t break skin. I released my teeth and sucked it gently. A little pain, a little pleasure. I kissed her throat, right above her pulse, and pulled back to stare into her widened eyes.

Aroused and afraid.

“Get off of me.”

“Ask nicely.”

She sucked in a breath. I joined her—deep in and deep out.

“Please let me go.”

I released her and stood.

She sat up, straightened her clothes, and folded her hands on her knees. She sat primly like she was at a job interview.

“Take two days. I’m being generous because I like you.”

“Is this how you treat people you like? By locking them in your fancy bunker?”

“I’m a complicated man.”

“More like a complicated serial killer.

“Two days, Cassie.” I walked back toward the door.

“Wait.”

I hesitated, looked back.

She stared down at her hands. Her cheeks were pink. I loved that little blush. I could read the level of her embarrassment in the color.

“I want a phone,” she said softly, demurely. She was learning already.

“What are you going to do with a phone?”

“Call Winter. She’s probably worried sick. Look at Instagram. Watch Netflix. I don’t know, anything. It’s boring down here.”

“Alright, I’ll get you a phone. But everything you do will be monitored, and if you try something impulsive, you will regret it.”

Another hint of anger. “I’m sure I will.”

“I’m not being coy. I will tie you to that bed face down and spank your ass until it’s as pink as your cheeks.”

More red rose beneath her skin. “You asshole.”

“I almost want you to defy me. I think you’d enjoy it.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“Two days. I’ll have someone bring you a phone.” I opened the door. “Please try not to tell Winter too much. For her safety as much as your own.” I looked back at her. She staring at her feet, cheeks blazing red. “Or tell her. It’ll be fun.”

I closed the door and stood in the hall trying not to lose my composure.

I wasn’t sure if I walked away with the advantage there. She understood better than I expected how important she was to my plans. I hadn’t lied—I could move forward even if she chose not to play along—but she was already starting to make demands.

Dangerous, smart girl.

I was going to have a lot of fun with her.