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Chapter Fourteen
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Wickedly Twisted Chapter Fifteen
CaraHot water rushes down my face. I stand in the shower and let it scald the horrible thoughts from my mind, the bad memories, the barely healed bruises.Christopher was here. He was here, in this apartment, ripping through my things for his own sick pleasure. I don't know how he found me, but my ex-husband has connections, the kind of connections I hoped wouldn't be of much use.But apparently, I was wrong.I should've left Chicago. I thought Eros was right—it's a big city. I could get lost here, disappear forever in this tiny little Greek neighborhood, and Christopher would never be the wiser. He'd be too busy trying to track me down back home in Philadelphia.But I'd never go back to that place. I'd never return to my parents and their dump of a South Philly row home with the rats in the basement and the leaking roof and the constant scorn and their anger. Mom hating Dad and Dad hating Mom, both of them locked in some sick duel to the death, a slow-motion murder. They despise eac
Wickedly Twisted Chapter Sixteen
CaraEros puts a cup of coffee in front of me and folds himself into the opposite chair. We're in an upscale cafe a couple blocks from the apartment while his guys clean up the mess and repair the door. I accept it wordlessly and take a long sip, letting the heat and caffeine sit in my stomach and start to wake me up."Tell me about him." Eros stares at me with that intense focus like he's raking over my skin with scalpel, peeling me apart and studying what he finds. I squirm uncomfortably, and I don't want to tell him anything, but at this point I can't keep on hiding the truth from him.Because he's more like my ex-husband than I ever dreamed."We met when I was eighteen." I close my eyes and think back to those early, heady days. Christopher was a guy from the neighborhood, a friendly guy that everyone liked. He was handsome, and he had money, and my parents were always encouraging me to go out with him. They said he'd be good for me. They said I needed a decent man in my life.We
Wickedly Twisted Chapter Seventeen
ErosI park in front of a decent townhouse in the Pilsen neighborhood directly south of Little Italy and University Park. It's a vibrant place filled with murals, restaurants, cafes, and Italians. Lots and lots of Italians.The Pavone Famiglia always had a presence in Chicago. Their roots went back generations, and they held on to the relatively small Little Italy for years and years. Mostly, their home base was Philadelphia, but they ran some rackets and made some books among their own people for the most part, and we ignored them for a long while. They didn't give us much trouble—we controlled better turf and outnumbered them ten-to-one—until the last few years. More and more of their members began moving out from the East Coast and putting down roots in Chicago, swelling their numbers, and pushing their borders in all directions.The block is nice, shady, and quiet. It doesn't look like the kind of place a mobster would make a home.But looks don't mean a goddamn thing in this busi
Wickedly Twisted Chapter Eighteen
ErosCara screams as Conti hits the floor with a grunt.My gun's in my hand before I can think about it. I hold it aimed at his face, my finger on the trigger, and one wrong move will end this wretched bastard's life.I want to do it. I can already feel the pleasure of watching this abusive shit-stain's blood spread across his hardwood floor. I came here in good faith and tried to do this without violence, but this man doesn't seem interested in saving his own life."Eros," Cara says and her hand is on my arm. "Eros, please. There are people around."I blink rapidly, blood rushing through my ears, and come back to myself. Rage threatens to push me into something I'll regret. Slowly, I lower the weapon as Conti scuttles backwards and climbs to his feet, bleeding from a split lip.Pedestrians walk past, some staring curiously. An old lady with a little white dog, a young couple in jeans and denim jackets, a couple of guys that look like they're on the way to the gym.Nobody's staring, n
Wickedly Twisted Chapter Nineteen
ErosThere's only one safe place I can think of in the entire city."Where are we going?" she asks as I roll through Hyde Park, turn off a quiet side street, and down a shady avenue. No Trespassing - Private Property signs are plastered all over along with more cameras than Buckingham Palace.Somewhere not too far, a small army of well-paid, loyal, and heavily armed men watch every inch of the property for anything out of the ordinary."This is where I live." I reach a gate and it opens before I can even roll down the window. The guard nods to me respectfully as I drive along a tree-lined, shady driveway until we come into view of the Khazan family home.Cara sucks in a breath. I try not to smile to myself, but even after all this time, a swell of pride fills my chest. This is the heart of my family's power, the nexus around which the city turns, and it's all mine.It's a beautiful Tudor building with tall peaks and a stone facade. Trees surround the property, the grass perfect manicu
Wickedly Twisted Chapter Twenty
CaraI'm almost too angry to notice the lavish interior.But not quite.The entryway has an enormous crystal chandelier dangling over a twin staircase with massive marble statues of Greek gods and goddesses frolicking around a central fountain. Actual fish swim inside the water, which seems almost absurd. The floor's marble, with more marble columns, and a ton of intricate tile work along the ground and walls. Doorways and hallways lead off into different parts of the house, but Eros heads right for the stairs and takes me to the second floor.We walk past a couple maids dusting and straightening. Each one smiles and greets Eros by bowing their heads respectfully, and he grunts a hello in reply. None of them flinch away or avert their eyes, and they both stare at me curiously. I take that as a good sign—at least his staff isn't terrified of him, even if they act a little overly formal.The whole place is like a museum. I've never seen so much luxury in one building before. I grew up i
Wickedly Twisted Chapter Twenty-One
ErosI lean back in my leather chair and watch Lycus pace back and forth in front of my desk. "You lost your mind," he says, shaking his head. "Seriously, bro, you lost your fucking mind."I finish my whiskey and swirl the ice. "Maybe.""Not only is she an Italian, but she's fucking Chris Conti's mob wife." He stops and stares at me with astonishment. "How the hell did you get yourself involved with this? I always thought you were the responsible one. Maybe a little emotional—""I am not emotional," I growl at him."Case in point," he says and groans. "Seriously, how did this happen?""Bad luck," I admit but inwardly think maybe it was good luck instead."You have to cut it off. Give the girl some money, put her on a plane, and fly her out to fucking Barbados. Wash your hands of all this.""Not going to happen.""Eros, youcannotkeep Chris Conti's ex-fucking-wife. Do you have any idea how the family's going to react?"I lean back and grin at him. "If I recall, you're the one that encou
Wickedly Twisted 22
CaraI last twenty minutes alone in his sitting room before I start snooping.I try to justify myself as I go through his medicine cabinet. I'm just trying to learn more about the man I'm going to fake-marry—or real-marry, or pretend-real-marry, or whatever this is—so it's not immoral to look at all his stuff.Razor, shaving cream, Band-Aids, toothbrush, nothing interesting.I'm not really sure what the hell we're doing, but I'm drifting along like a log on a wave lost in the current, and Eros is the entire ocean.His closet is better. Enormous and filled with expensive, custom-tailored suits, racks of designer jeans and shoes and shirts, and a hundred ties in black and dark blue. There's a shelf covered in glittering, no-doubt priceless watches, lit with custom bulbs so the whole display glows like a storefront window.Eros doesn't strike me as the type of man obsessed with the way he looks, but his closet suggests otherwise.And his comment from earlier flits through my mind: in thi
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