Ruthless Heir: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ruthless Dynasty Book 1)
Ruthless Heir: Chapter 7

It’s hard to tell what’s sincere and what’s a product of the oxygen deprivation.

Either way, Gabriel’s belt isn’t nearly as suffocating as his words.

What the hell is going on?

Before I can think to use my turn to ask him, the sinfully gorgeous wolf has unbuckled my skin-tight choker and pulled it loose from around my throat.

The heat from his massive bulge brushes past my burning cheeks as he stands up. Taking a step back, he re-holsters his belt, thick forearms flexing with frustration as he tightens the leather back around his waist.

“This game is over,” he announces. A low simmering fury paints his features. But it’s mixed in with something else. Something I can’t quite pinpoint.

Regret? Disappointment? Fear?

It’s impossible to tell. But whatever it is, Gabriel isn’t enjoying it.

Without another word, the hulking, shirtless wolf turns his back to me and storms away.

Somehow, even through the building tears blurring my vision, I can see the scars hiding beneath his tattoos. I can still feel them against my fingertips.

How did I ever miss them?

“Gabriel…” I croak after him. It feels like I’m lost in a dark ocean, alone, watching a black ship sail away.

Throw me a lifesaver…

“I’ll bring you some food,” is all he says, stopping briefly at the door. Pulling open the handle, he looks over his shoulder, towards the nightstand. “Drink the water. You’ll need all of your strength.”

With that, he steps out into the hallway and clicks the door shut behind him. A moment later, I hear the turning of a lock as I’m secured back into this confusing prison.

The walls must be thick, because I can’t hear Gabriel’s heavy footsteps march away, but I feel his presence leave, abandoning me to the black waters.

It’s somehow his most gutting act.

The teasing. The taunts. The dares. The belt.

The kiss.

The tenderness.

It all swirls around in my unhinged mind, clashing against each other as I’m thrown back and forth against the dark waves.

We kissed.

He asked me to kiss him, and that’s exactly what I did.

But it wasn’t forced. He didn’t push me.

He dared me.

And part of me smiled when he did.

None of me is smiling anymore, though.

I’m drowning.

The only consolation to any of this is that Gabriel didn’t reach between my legs before he left.

If he had, I’d have been completely compromised.

I’m soaked, aroused in the dirtiest way.

For a moment there, I wanted to spit in his face… but only so he would punish me. Lift me up by the leather choker around my throat, throw me onto the bed, and wreck me.

Not that Gabriel couldn’t tell I was turned the fuck on.

He saw my nipples. He felt the way I gave in to the restrained passion of our kiss.

A deep, jagged breath escapes my nostrils as I really process what just happened.

Gabriel Corso and I just fucking kissed.

Somehow, that’s even more shocking than the confirmation that Gabriel Corso isn’t his real name—or the fact that he’s clearly fucking kidnapped me.

From the day I accidentally spilled hot coffee on him, I’ve been almost expecting the wolf to slip out of the shadows and drag me back to his den. To punish me for marking him.

He always seemed like the type.

But to kiss me? Like that?

To save me from an ambush and fix me up? To act like he cares about my well-being, even if only briefly?

It’s enough to pull me to my feet. Otherwise, I might have sunk into the darkness forever.

Lifting my hand up to my throat, I trace the throbbing outline of the mark he’s left on me.

Why was that so fucking hot? Why was any of that so fucking hot?

Playing a twisted game of truth or dare with my high school bully sounds like a nightmare. But as I sit down on the bed and close my eyes, all I can imagine are the dirtiest of dreams.

The pressure in my core has gone nuclear. My pussy is soaked. When my eyes open, my hand is between my thighs, fingers on my clit.

There’s no stopping it. I start to rub, to play with myself like Gabriel just played with me.

My own hand doesn’t feel nearly as good as his, though—at least, not until I close my eyes again and picture those thick fingers softly pinching my clit, then sliding down to slip inside my soaking little hole.

It doesn’t take long before the swirling pressure in my core cracks. A deep warmth races out, ravaging every inch of my body from the inside out.

If my throat wasn’t so sore, I’m sure I would be screaming. But all I can manage are a few deep, raspy breaths.

No one has ever dared touch me like that before.

Soon enough, the pleasure blankets me, and I’m pulled out of the black ocean that Gabriel left behind.

But the warmth doesn’t last for long. And before I can sink into the afterglow of my orgasm, I’m forced awake; pushed back into the vast, cold bedroom I’m locked up in.

When my eyes open again, all I feel is emptiness… and shame.

What have I done?

A humiliating warmth replaces the cold emptiness as I rip my hand out from between my legs.

I want to slap myself.

How could I fall so easily for such an obvious monster?

Gabriel played me.

Despite our little game of truth or dare, no important answers were given. No great secrets revealed. Only little bits of information were teased to me.

What happened to Rian? Uncle Maksim? Is Dad alright? Mom? Who ambushed us? Why did Gabriel take me?

You are my key to everything.

What the hell does that even mean?

The unknown implication behind his deep, dark words threatens to eat me from the inside out. I’m desperate to know the truth.

But even just the thought of being forced into another depraved game of truth or dare with Gabriel sends a boulder of dread rolling through my gut.

So, I wipe the possibility from my mind, and instead try to focus on something else. Something more imminently important.

My dry mouth.

I’m parched. And the big glass of water on the nightstand looks almost as tempting as Gabriel’s broad chest and muscular back.

But the stubborn side of me doesn’t want to give in again. To do what he wants.

It’s a stupid instinct, and I manage to fight through it easily enough.

There’s no point in dying here. Whatever’s happening, I need to survive—at least long enough to get answers, if not some fucking revenge too.

The water is somehow still cool as I chug it down. Still, it hardly helps the searing mark that Gabriel has claimed me with.

Not even my rumbling stomach can drag my attention away from the memory of his touch. It was so terrifyingly powerful. So careless. Yet somehow so immensely tender.

Placing the empty glass back on the nightstand, I open up the bottom drawer. Anything to distract myself from the lingering taste of Gabriel’s lips, or the horrors of what’s possibly happened to my family—let alone what’s about to happen to me.

But there’s nothing in the first drawer. Nothing in the second, either. Thankfully, the top one is filled to the brim.

It takes me a second to recognize what’s inside.

Medical supplies.

Gauze tape, bandages, Neosporin, numbing cream, fresh IV tubes.

Shit.

Did Gabriel bring in an entire medical team just to keep me alive?

No. He said it himself. My injury wasn’t that bad. I was only grazed by a bullet.

Hell, the first fucking thing he did when I woke up was make fun of me for being so dramatic. As if I could help how my body reacts to being fucking shot.

Still, it must have been more serious than he let on. I was out for what, two days? That doesn’t happen from a scrape.

Unless Gabriel was drugging me.

Reaching across my naked chest, I gently touch the big translucent band aid draped over the red wound on my shoulder.

It’s completely numb. I’m at least thankful for that—especially as the scar above my eye gently throbs.

What a hellish month this has been. Two life-altering scars in the span of two weeks.

Maybe Mom was right when she said I needed to take a deep breath and slow down.

Fuck.

Mom.

She was so proud of me for what I was doing at school. It’s the only reason I even went through with university. Being an academic was never part of my dreams—but I was willing to put up with it for four years for Mom’s sake.

After that, I’d be free. At least, I was supposed to be free.

I was supposed to be able to do whatever I wanted.

And that would have meant becoming more like Dad. A leader. A killer. A tough guy.

But Mom is tough too. And smart.

She knew better. I was going off the rails, trying to be like my old man.

I wasn’t ready. I overstepped. Now, I’m more trapped than ever before.

Fuck.

Even that God-forsaken island would have been a thousand times better than this.

At least there, I would have been surrounded by people who cared about me.

No matter how tender Gabriel’s kisses have been, he doesn’t care about me. Only what I can do for him. What he can use me for.

You are my key to everything.

What the hell does that even mean?

My stomach rumbles again as I look over towards the half-open bathroom door. Shit. I could really use a hot shower.

But for some reason, I just can’t bring myself to get off the bed. Without Gabriel here to prod me, I feel completely drained.

All I can do is get lost in my own head.

Gabriel must have tended to my wound all on his own. He would have stripped me naked and washed me off and fixed me up.

Somehow, I know he didn’t take advantage of my vulnerability. I’m a virgin, after all. I’d feel if something was different. Right?

But how could a monster be so gentle?

You don’t know that he was, an inner voice stubbornly fights back. He could have easily drugged and raped you. You’re a virgin. You don’t know how it would feel afterwards.

But that stubborn voice doesn’t feel like it has any teeth. No matter how much of an asshole he is. How much of a monster. Gabriel just doesn’t feel like the type.

And I know the type. One of those assholes gave me the scar above my eye. That ugly frat boy had no choice but to spike drinks.

But Gabriel is so different.

In high school, he had to step over mountains of girls just to get to class. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s even more handsome now—if just in a darker and more terrifyingly rugged kind of way.

Slipping onto my back, I rest my gently throbbing skull against the pillow and stare up at the ceiling.

The subtle scent I woke up to floats back into my nostrils, and I slowly realize why it was so oddly familiar.

Fresh rain.

It’s Gabriel.

He’s used this pillow before.

But what the hell does that mean? Is this empty room his bedroom? Is this his house?

I have no idea where I am. But it seems fitting that someone as mysterious as him would have at least one room without windows.

Where else would he hide his captives?

Suddenly, a disturbing thought tenses my entire body.

Did Gabriel kill the congressmen’s daughter?

The thought worms its way down my spine until it’s sitting like a fucking mountain in my gut.

Could he have been the one who was trying to kidnap Italian mafia princesses out east?

Maybe he didn’t fail at all. Maybe those attempts were just practice. A threat to put the chess pieces into play, so that he could make his move.

You are my key to everything.

His words become more and more threatening every time they rattle through the blackness of my mind.

I didn’t think Gabriel was the kind of person to drug and rape a girl, but if he could kill one—and a congressman’s daughter at that—even just for practice, then he’s truly capable of anything.

Every inch of me jumps when the eerie silence of the empty bedroom is broken by a sound that’s already horribly familiar.

Someone is unlocking my door. The handle clicks open, sending a shiver of dread prickling over my skin.

That was fast. Too fast. I’ve barely even had time to breathe, and my monstrous captor is already back.

What kind of sick twisted game will he make me play now?

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