Share
41
Related chapters
Wickedly Twisted 42
ErosThree men kneel before me.All of them have their hand bound behind their backs. Each is bleeding from multiple wounds. Broken noses, cracked skulls. Lycus has a gun pressed to the first man's head, a tall Greek gentleman in his late fifties, getting heavy with age and wrinkled from a hard life."You all know why you are here." I pace in front of them, watching their reactions. Above us, the recording studio is quiet. Nobody would dare work while beneath them, men died."Yes, Eros. I know why we are here." Zale speaks for the others. The old captain dares raise his chin to look me in the eye.Lycus brings his gun down hard, smacking him in the skull. Zale grunts and hunches forward, groaning.I watch the pathetic display and feel nothing but pity."Why did you do it?" I ask him.He's quiet for a moment. The old Greek man is in considerable pain, and he knows he's about to die, but there's still a dignity to him. I respect that—better to die like a man than to face the end like a
Wickedly Twisted 43
ErosI suck at the last of the whiskey. Exhaustion weighs me down as the sun rises outside of my office window. Birds sing in a nearby tree. I keep hearing the gunshots, the many gunshots from the night before as I went through my family and purged all of the traitors.So many dead. So many wasted lives.It would be easy to blame Cara, but she was only the catalyst, and a weak catalyst at that. This unrest had been simmering for some time now, and she was simply the most convenient excuse.I'll have to find a new captain to take over for Zale. I suspect Alonzo will be a good choice—I spared his life, and he's intensely aware that he owes me his continued existence. I need strong men, loyal men, in positions of power.I smell like alcohol and blood. I need to shower for an eternity to wash away the sins I've committed, but there's no cleansing me.There's a knock at the door. "Come," I say wearily.It opens a crack and Cara steps inside. She's wearing her work outfit, the diner's unifo
Wickedly Twisted 44
CaraDespite his promise to come up with a compromise, three days pass before I finally lose my patience.I try to be a good wife and partner. I want to make this work, even if we're faking it. I have lunch with Helen, walk the grounds with his mother, straighten up the room despite him pleading with me to let the staff do it, and I do it all with a smile.I wear my sneakers and don't complain when he slips into bed late at night, not saying a word.I avoid Sophia and Anissa as best I can though I catch their dirty glares when I pass them in the halls, which is mercifully rare.But enough is enough.I can only take so much.My world is like an afterlife. Not a prison—but a hell. I'm trapped here, stuck drifting from one place to another, like purgatory. Not quite stuck, not quite able to escape.I wake up early, shower while he's still asleep, get myself ready, and confront him as the birds chirp at the sunrise."I'm going to work." I pull the uniform over my head and shoot Phel a tex
Wickedly Twisted 45
CaraThe guards don't try to stop me as I walk down the long driveway, tears streaming down my face.I don't look at the trees, at the bushes, even at the ground. I keep my chin up, my eyes forward, and my hands balled into fists.None of this is mine. None of it ever will be.This was a joke from the beginning. I let myself be seduced by him, by his words, by that stupid nickname, by the way he kissed me and fucked me. I let myself start to think this could work.I was always lying to myself.Eros is what he is—a mafia lord.Maybe not as bad as Christopher, but heartless.He'll never care about me the way I was beginning to care about him.He'll never love me.Once I'm past the guard house and beyond the gate, I let the emotions swell and crash through me. Tears roll down my face. I feel silly as I walk along the early morning sidewalk crying like a child. I have to pause on a bench and bury my face in my hands, my body shuddering. A nice older man asks if I'm okay, and I tell him th
Wickedly Twisted 46
ErosThe gunshots pop like a mountain cracking in half. I'd know the sound of semi-automatic rifle fire anywhere. A horrified chill runs down my spine, and I'm running down the stairs in a shirt and slacks, my cuffs unbuttoned, a gun clutched in my hands, roaring for my soldiers.My heart's racing in my chest. I can barely see straight. I keep thinking about Cara, my Cara, my wife. She ran out of the house and I let her go, thinking she needed space. Why the fuck was I so foolish?Lycus appears at my side, looking white. "Eros," he says."Where was that?" I grab him by the collar and yank him close, growling in his face. "Where is my wife?""It was the front gate," Lycus says, pushing me away. "The guards out front radioed up a second before the gunfire. They have her."My heart stops. My guts twist. I stare at him, not breathing. "They have who?""Cara. She was with the guards when the attack started. Eros—"I storm past him, sprinting out the front door. My vision tunnels. All I can
Wickedly Twisted 47
ErosHelen arrives to take over with Cara. The two of them sit shoulder to shoulder in the living room drinking wine while Real Housewives shout at each other on the flat screen.I find Lycus downstairs. "Situation," I bark at him. I'm on edge, itching to find my enemies, but Cara's words keep playing through my head. This is fake, it's fake, it'll never be more than what it is.No matter what I want. No matter how I feel.Several of my captains and soldiers stand at attention, looking grim."Cameras got the shooting," Lycus reports. "We have the plates and we're running them now.""No need to wait for the results. It was the Italians." I look around and nobody argues. "Get a squad together. Reliable men, good men. I want you to lead them personally."Lycus nods sharply. "Consider it done. What's the target?""Burn Conti's house to the fucking ground."There's a long moment of silence. They stare at me, saying nothing, as the gravity of my orders falls on them.For years, residential
Wickedly Twisted 48
CaraOphelia stares around at the entryway to the Khazan mansion like she can't believe what she's seeing."I know," I say before she has a chance to speak. "It's a lot."She gapes at me. "A lot? It's more than a lot, it's like—this is some Marie Antoinette-level shit. Like pure opulence. Seriously, I'm waiting for a bunch of French peasants to come storming over the gate any minute. Holy wow, are those actual fish?" She walks over to the fountain and laughs. "Those are actual fish. In the floor. Inside the house.""The staff feeds them every day. They have names but I haven't learned them all yet." I point out a big goldfish lurking toward the bottom. "That's Sam.""Fish in the floor. And they have names." She sighs and rubs her face like she's waking up from something. "I didn't believe you, but now I've seen everything.""Come on, let's go out back. It's nice out for once." I take her through the living room where she pauses to stare at the paintings on the wall ("Is this a real Mo
Wickedly Twisted 49
CaraHelen comes down from the house. I introduce her to Phel, pour her some champagne, and listen to her stories about Eros and the other mafia guys. Most of them are funny, if a little violent, and Phel gets along with her perfectly."You know, Cara, I noticed something recently." Helen gives me a sidelong grin. "You and Eros haven't been talking much."I look down at my hands. "I don't know what you mean.""Come on, there's trouble. Is it stress from—" She stops herself, glancing at Phel. "You know, what happened?""That's not ominous," Phel says. "I know about the diner.""It's that and it's a lot more." I stretch my legs, sighing. "Things are complicated between us. You know, my ex-husband, the whole Italian thing, the divorce, the paperwork—""Paperwork?" Helen raises her eyebrows.I grimace. I shouldn't have said anything about that—we're still trying to keep it a secret. "Just stupid divorce stuff. He's been so busy with his, uh, business that it's like he doesn't live here."
Latest chapter
