Knocked Up by the Beast: A Mafia Romance (Kingdoms Book 1) Page 2

  We don’t hold it against him. It’s just that by this point, we’ve gotten used to it.

  He is who he is, and that’s okay.

  “Okay, you have a point,” Julie says, sighing. “But really, you didn’t have to do this. I know how expensive these brushes can be.”

  “I got them at an antique store,” I say, waving my hand.

  “Even so, you-“

  Before she can continue further, I take her hands in mine, and look her in the eye.

  “Nothing or nobody in my life is above you. You come first, Julie.”

  “But you were saving up so you could go to…”

  “It was a pleasure to buy this for you, okay?”

  She looks like she’s about to protest some more, but she’s also excited about the brushes. She kisses my cheek. “I’m going to miss you when you leave home.”

  “I will too.”

  My birthday is up next. I turn twenty-two by the end of October. Julie knows that I was saving money from my waitressing job so I could go to a place I’ve never been to before.

  Somewhere with a brand new view.

  I crave a new life.

  One where I am loved by somebody.

  One that’s far, far away from the town I spent my whole life in.

  I truly believe in my heart that things will change for me one day.

  Like the seasons. Like the passing clouds in the sky. Like the plants that are reborn every spring.

  But it’s been so long.

  I’ve been hoping and dreaming for so long that it’s easy to lose faith.

  And yet, I remain patient. I remain hopeful.

  On most days anyway.

  I think of the red-haired woman from earlier.

  Witch. The word reverberates in my head. Everything about her was screaming supernatural power.

  Maybe she is a witch.

  Her words are all but imprinted in my head.

  She declared that my world will change this December. A pulse of excitement had spread through my body when she said that.

  Every word she said felt like the truth. Or maybe it’s just some of Julie’s dramatic nature rubbing off on me.

  “How much longer?” whispers my sister now.

  I turn to her. She swallows thickly as she looks straight ahead at the town spread out beneath us.

  I know exactly what she’s talking about. Hazel. It hurts us to see our older sister like this.

  “I don’t know,” I reply honestly.

  “Is she going through something big?”

  I shrug. I don’t even know what to assume.

  I just know that there’s a deep sadness inside Hazel, and it’s stemming from her heart.

  “She’s grieving, I think,” I say finally. “Something had happened to her, and she’s recovering from it in her own way.”

  “I just wish…” Julie wrings her hands out in frustration.

  “You wish she’d talk to us about it. I feel the same. But she’s going to take her time with it whether we like it or not. She’s healing in the only way she knows how.”

  I look back at the cottage window.

  Two years. Two years since we heard our own sister’s voice.

  “I just want to help. I want to know what’s causing her all this pain,” Julie says.

  I breathe through the sudden constriction in my throat. This is the part I try not to think about.

  Hazel will tell us what happened. Not today, probably not tomorrow either, but one day.

  One day, she will open her mouth, and she will speak.

  Until then, I won’t try to guess what had happened to make her this way.

  Julie and I go back into the cottage to make breakfast. Hazel joins us, quietly chopping mushrooms and green onions for the omelets.

  I sprinkle some fresh cheese on top of the first one before sliding it onto Julie’s plate. She’s sitting at the dining table, going through all of my books.

  “You got a new one this time,” she comments, pulling out a red hardcover. “Don’t you usually just read the same books over and over again?”

  “That’s only because there’s a limited selection at the library,” I say. I’ve already been through them all.

  I catch Hazel’s eye. She works part-time at the library. I know it was her who kept this book aside for me so that I’d be the first one to read it.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  She dips her head, and gives me a tiny smile.

  I’ll take it.

  The wall clock chimes the hour, stealing my attention. It’s nine in the morning.

  I glance at Julie. She stopped eating her omelet, and she’s staring at me with wide eyes. She’s thinking the same thing I am.

  Papa should have been home by now.

  Our father has a whole list of flaws, but being late is not one of them.

  3

  Leo

  “You’re not going anywhere,” I growl at the old man. “You stole from me, and for that, I will make sure you’re sorry.”

  The small man is a quivering mess. “Sir, I am sorry. I really don’t know how-“

  I hold up a hand, silencing him instantly.

  I don’t want to hear it.

  They’re all lies. Every string of words that’s coming past his chapped lips is a lie.

  This is a thief who has been caught red-handed. He can’t outrun me, so he’s making up stories to save himself.

  He broke into my house, tried to steal from me, and now he has the audacity to try to lie straight to my face.

  “Let me get this straight.” My voice is the sharp edge of a knife right now. “Rose just happened to end up in your satchel?”

  “Rose?” His eyebrows pull together.

  I hold up the diamond that hangs from the thin gold chain.

  Beams of morning light pass through it, making it look iridescent.

  It seems to glow from within. But if you look close enough, the large diamond has a red tinge to it.

  “Rose,” I say. “This diamond.”

  It’s not the value of the diamond that makes it special to me. It’s what Rose signifies. Without it, I’m nothing.

  And this man was going to steal it from me.

  Rage—harsh and unforgiving, bubbles through my veins. I want to hurt him. My fingers curl inwardly, hands balling into a tight fist.

  Violence has always been a part of who I am.

  Anger has always been a constant companion. It’s my instinct to swing my fists at this shameless liar.

  But I won’t hurt him physically. He’s no match for me.

  Instead, I’ll make sure that he repents for his actions.

  “What were you doing on my property?” I ask, advancing towards him.

  My face is still hidden by the shadows, but he must see that I’m moving closer, because he shrinks even more in size.

  “I-I already told you,” he answers. “I lost my way, and I needed help.”

  “And you thought you’d find help here on my property?” I question.

  “I was in the middle of a forest,” he exclaims, raising his voice.

  Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

  I count in my head as I wait for the anger to abate. Thick silence fills the air between us.

  “Don’t ever use that tone on me,” I grate out finally.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly.

  I study him from the shadows.

  He’s a short man with a cloud of white hair. His eyes are big and blue. There’s earnestness written all over his face, but he’s quick to apologize.

  Too quick.

  If he was innocent—if he truly hadn’t stolen from me, he would have been indignant.

  When a person is accused of a crime they haven’t committed, the natural response is to get defensive.

  But this man is doing the opposite. He’s apologizing.

  “As I was saying, Sir,” he stammers. “I was lost, and I walked for miles before I saw your e
state. It was the first house I came across.”

  “So you invited yourself into my home?”

  “Nobody answered the door, so, I- um, well yeah, I entered without permission. But that was only because I didn’t want to spend the night in the forest.”

  “Didn’t you say that you had a car?”

  “It broke down.”

  “And your phone?”

  He shakes his head. “I know how this sounds, but I lost my phone.”

  “Lost it?”

  “Yes,” he says with conviction.

  Another lie.

  It almost makes me marvel at how effortlessly he does it.

  I know it’s a lie because I distinctly remember seeing the outline of a phone in his back pocket.

  Either this man is a practiced liar, or he’s just really, really absent-minded.

  “And what happened next?”

  “I saw the fireplace. It seemed so welcoming in the dead of night. I fell asleep in front of it right away.”

  “Was this before or after you went to the West Wing?”

  His eyes are wide and earnest again. “I don’t know anything about the West Wing. I just needed a place to stay for the night.”

  I sigh. The final drops of my patience trickle out of me.

  “Stop. Lying.” My words are a lethal hiss.

  “I don’t know how the diamond ended up in my bag,” he screeches, raising his voice again.

  And that’s the final straw.

  A rumbling bellow originates from deep within my chest.

  Before I know it, I’m striding towards the man, grabbing him by his collar. He’s lifted off the ground.

  The morning sun hits my face.

  He gasps as he sees me clearly for the first time.

  A look of horror and repulsion taints his features as he takes in my disfigured face.

  I’m more animal than man.

  I bet he now wishes that he stayed in the forest after all.

  I should be used to it by now—this initial response of disgust. I’ve gotten it often enough in my life.

  A face only a mother could love.

  But I haven’t gotten used to it at all.

  It’s still a punch to the gut every time someone reacts this way.

  “You…you’re so…”

  “Hideous? Yes, I know.” The pain I feel deep in my stomach morphs into anger once more.

  He deserves to be punished.

  I place him back down on his feet. He immediately whips his head around to look at the doors behind him.

  The locked doors are what separate him from me and the outside world.

  He won’t be stepping outside anytime soon though.

  Not on my watch.

  “Follow me,” I say, retreating into the shadows of the corridor once more.

  I half-expect him to try to flee, even with all of the doors locked. But he follows without asking any questions.

  He’s meek and obedient now.

  I like that. It shows that he’s sorry for what he attempted to do.

  I come to a stop in front of the landline phone. “Call your lawyer,” I say, handing it to him.

  He looks at the phone in my hand, and then at me. His face turns white. “I-I don’t know any lawyers.”

  I slam the phone down. “You should have thought of that before you tried to steal from me.”

  “I know you don’t believe me, but I have to tell you-“

  “Save your breath, I know you’re lying,” I grit out. “Just like I know you were lying about your cellphone. It’s in your back pocket.”

  His mouth opens. He shuts it promptly, and reaches into his back pocket.

  The man has the gall to actually…chuckle. “Oh hey, look at that. You’re right.”

  His amusement dies when he sees the expression on my face.

  I’m still hidden by the hood of the cloak I always wear.

  But he’s seen enough. He knows of my appearance, and whether he wants to or not, he fears it.

  He fears me.

  As he should.

  But I don’t really want that. I don’t want to be a monster.

  “You’re allowed one phone call to your family before I call the police,” I say grudgingly.

  He blinks at me, and then slowly unlocks his own phone. He dials a number, and brings it up to his ear.

  The phone rings twice before the person picks up.

  It’s a…girl.

  Her breathy intake of air gives it away.

  “Who is that?” I ask, grinding my teeth together.

  The older man looks at me queerly, probably trying to figure out what my problem is.

  In that moment, the way I view him changes. This man…this thief…he’s the bridge between the girl on the other end of the line and me.

  My heart bangs against my ribcage, coming alive for the first time in years. A surge of adrenaline courses through my veins.

  Curiosity makes my head swell, and I don’t think I can take it anymore.

  That’s when she speaks. “Papa? Is that you? Are you okay?”

  Angels. They occupy the air above me and start to sing. But even angels can’t compete with the melody of this girl’s voice.

  I have to know her.

  I have to see her.

  “Papa?” she whispers, filling up the empty dark corridor with her soft voice, changing my world by the second.

  “Belle-“ starts the thief.

  He pauses when he hears me snarl and bare my teeth.

  Belle.

  Her name is Belle.

  It’s unreasonable and makes no sense, but the sound of it makes my muscles flex. A surge of longing passes down my spine, making my cock come to life.

  “Belle,” says the man, now giving me the side-eye. “I’m in a situation.”

  4

  Belle

  “I forbid you from leaving,” Julie says, pursing her lips.

  She’s standing in my way, holding the doorframe of our shared bedroom with both of her hands.

  “Julie, I have to go,” I say. “You heard what Papa said on the phone.”

  “Which is exactly why I can’t let you leave on your own.”

  “I know what I heard, Julie. Papa’s voice was all high-pitched. He was scared. His life could be in danger, and I can’t just ignore that. That man could be holding Papa hostage.”

  “I doubt it. If Papa was being held hostage, he would’ve said so. But all he said was that there was some misunderstanding. You can’t go to that…estate house all by yourself. Also, if there’s a mansion in the middle of the forest, why haven’t we ever heard of it before today?”

  “Maybe it’s cursed? Hidden away from the rest of the world?” I shrug.

  Julie’s shaking her head. “The man who lives there is probably a dangerous psychopath. I just know it. Why else would he live in a house that big and not throw a single party? It’s not safe, Belle. I can’t let you go alone.”

  “Would you like to come with me, then?”

  “Of course not,” she huffs. “I’m not stupid. The sensible thing to do right now is to call the police, and let them figure it out.”

  “You know that’s not an option,” I sigh.

  “Why not?” She frowns before she understands what’s on my mind. “Oh. Kane.”

  “Yes. Him.”

  Kane Cavenagh is the boy I went to a high school dance with. He’s no longer a boy, but he’s still beyond childish.

  He thinks that he and I should get married. He even tried to propose. I said no all three times. He still hasn’t gotten the hint.

  Kane went on to become the town sheriff, so alerting the police in this situation would mean having to face him.

  Which is something I don’t have the energy to do right now.

  “Now will you please move?” I ask Julie. She’s still physically blocking my path.

  She has a tiny frame, so what she’s trying to do is laughable.

  But I know better than to laugh.
>
  Dealing with my little sister is like walking through a minefield. You never know when she’s going to blow up on you.

  Behind her, Hazel is sitting upright, her book discarded.

  She’s staring right at me, eyes screaming what her mouth can’t. She doesn’t want me to leave either.

  “Absolutely not,” Julie says. “I think you’re making a hasty decision, Belle. Not to mention, you have a horrible sense of direction. You’ll probably get lost on your way to the forest, and that’s how we’re going to lose you forever. It would make for a horrible story. Papa would kill us if anything happened to his favorite daughter.”

  “That’s not true,” I say, crossing my arms.

  “Which part?” she grins. A blonde curl drops down her forehead, and she deftly blows it out of the way.

  I inch closer, and she spreads her feet apart too, forming a human ‘X’ with her body.

  “You’re being ridiculous, Julie,” I say, tapping my foot impatiently.

  My heart is feeling restless.

  It’s not just that Papa is in trouble. It’s…that voice I heard in the background when I was on the phone with Papa.

  A man’s voice.

  It was deep and authoritative, making my body thrum with this goddess-like energy.

  It called to me.

  It called to a part of my heart that has been left mostly unexplored until now.

  “I have to go,” I say, looking my younger sister in the eye, and holding her gaze.

  “But Papa said…”

  “I know what Papa said. He was trying to be brave for us, Julie. But he’s in trouble. He needs help, even if he didn’t ask for it.”

  Julie glances at the backpack I’m holding. I filled it up with provisions for the journey.

  Food, clothes, my phone charger, a compass, and the red hardcover novel.

  Yes, I have unusual priorities. I can’t go anywhere without a book.

  “I’ll call you every two hours,” I offer.

  “Belle, I swear to God, if you don’t call me every thirty minutes, I’m going to call your ex-boyfriend.”

  “Kane is not my ex.”

  “Yeah, tell him that.” She drops her arms from the doorframe. “The man is obsessed with you.”

  I squeeze past her before she can change her mind about letting me go.

  “Honestly, I don’t know why you won’t give him another shot. He’s good-looking, and he’s a perfectly nice guy too.”