POSSESSED: MISS CIA AND THE MAFIA DON

CHAPTER ONE:

Even the day’s last sliver of light must in the end submit to the darkness.

CAMERON

It all comes back to me in one blinding rush.

I feel the impact all over again as the car blows past the red light and slams into the taxi I’m in.

Every bone in my body is yanked violently to the side.

My world spins and spins and I can hear glass shattering all around me.

I want to scream but I can barely breathe.

It’s over as quickly as it began.

There is a ringing in my ear as blood, wet and sticky drips into my eyes.

I’m hanging upside down, held to the chair by my seatbelt

“Oh my god…oh my god…”

Saying the words over and over does nothing to make it go away.

I can see myself now, taking off the seatbelt and falling heavily against the roof of the car.

My neck hurts, my face feels like it’s on fire.

Beyond me the driver seat is empty and something about that feels…wrong.

Carefully I manage to crawl out of the car, the skin of my knees scraping on the broken glass littered around.

My vision swims then narrows.

It’s the shoes I see first.

A pair of pointy dark shoes attached to dark pants with a crease so sharp I could cut my face on it.

It hurts looking up and the blood in my right eye has blinded me.

But it isn’t until I look up into his face that I realize just how screwed I really am.

It’s him.

“You…I know you…” I try to croak but my voice is drowned out by the horns honking loudly in the distance.

He crouches down to look at me. “Hello Cameron, I believe we had a date by...” he glances at his watch. “Eight?”

“I…” I start to turn, to crawl, to get away from him.“H…help…somebody…”

But my voice is feeble and the ringing in my ears is growing louder and louder and louder.

“Help me…”

I see the shoes again.

And as the world fades to black, I jerk back into consciousness with a loud gasp.

Where am I? I think frantically.

I can’t see. I can’t move.

It feels like there is a rough sack around my head and my arms are tied painfully behind my back.

I’m sitting upright in a chair but I am not gagged. So I start to scream.

“Help!!! Help me someone!! Anyone!!!”

A door opens to my left.

“Save your breath.”

My head snaps towards the voice. “Who’s there? What have you done to me?”

“What the hell Carlos.” The voice says, ignoring me. “I said to make sure she stays put, not bundle her up like a wild animal.”

I know that voice.

I could recognize that New Yorker accent and dark drawl anywhere.

It didn’t matter that I have only met him once.

The sack is yanked off my head and my eyes struggle to adjust to the light.

I am in what appears to be a board room with dark red sound proof walls and a large oak table surrounded by a million chairs, one of which I am tied to.

There is a massive television screen on the opposite end and in front of it and at the end of the table, stands the man who did this to me.

I do not want to think about that night that had put me in this mess but it comes anyway.

I was not supposed to be alone at the club that night.

The plan had been to go with Rose, my best friend.

But she had fallen sick with a cold that evening and could barely get out of bed.

And despite all my protests to let me take care of her, she had bullied me, sick as she was into the shortest dress she could find and told me to get my ass out of the house.

“You need to live a little Cameron.” I remember her saying as she blew her nose violently into a tissue and slammed the door in my face

I also remember thinking that going out alone was a terrible idea and that I should just stay home.

But I had gone anyway.

I hadn’t intended for it to happen, but one drink became two and my vision had started to swim.

And then I saw him or rather, he saw me.

He was dressed in dark pants and a simple white button up, sleeves rolled at the elbows, seated in the corner of the club you didn’t get into unless you either owned the club or had a gazillion zeros attached to your name,

Even with the distance between us, just looking at him did funny things to the pit of my stomach.

I told myself it was the whiskey in my veins and the loud music messing with my head.

The air around him had been thick with smoke from the men seated next to him and he was surrounded by a gaggle of women dressed in clothes that collectively put together would barely make up a single handkerchief.

The women had their hands in his hair and on his chest and around his thigh.

But his eyes had been fixed on me and only me.

I remember getting up and walking up to him, tipsy and out of my mind.

Seeing the slight look of surprise in his perfect cold face as I approached the VIP section had only emboldened me.

Before I could take another step, the closest bouncer had grabbed my arm, reaching for his gun as a warning.

But the man in the dark pants had stopped him with a tilt of his chin, asking him to let me through.

The woman around him glared at me, but I could barely see them.

There had been a humming beneath my skin and my cheeks felt flushed and red.

All I could see was him.

He had the kind of face that was made to ruin and destroy.

The kind of perfectly handsome face God only gave to monsters so they could hide what they were.

He had lowered his face towards mine when I sat, lips brushing against my ear and sending shivers down my spine. “I cannot decide if you are mad, bold or just plain stupid.”

I do not remember what idiocy I had mumbled in response because he had touched me then, tilting my chin this way and that, looking at me like I was nothing but a piece of furniture he was deciding to purchase.

Then he brushed his thumb against my lower lip and despite the alarm bells in my head, every fiber in my body had trembled.

Nothing else made sense after that.

I wish I could say that all I remember after that is waking up but no, I remember everything else.

The way he wouldn’t stop staring at my lips when I talked.

The way he had claimed my mouth with his, hot and needy, pulling my lower lip between his teeth and sliding his palm between my thighs until I gasped and moaned.

My back was pressed against the door of a room that I do not recall getting to.

I remember thinking that I really should not be doing this.

I remember trying to push him away.

But then he lowered his head and his head flicked against my n****e as he pulled it into the wet warmth of his mouth and every shred of logical thought left in my mind had disintegrated to pieces.

His hands were wrapped around my neck, then my waist, then in my hair, then around my neck again.

He smelt like heaven and he tasted like sin.

And when he finally slid into me, driving me into the wall, it was like having stars explode in the back of my head.

When I woke up the next morning, the bed beside me was empty and I was alone with the biggest hangover of my life and the realization that I had f****d up. Big time.

And then I saw the card by my pillow.

Tuesday night, 8pm, The Penthouse.

He had left me a note, a date.

That is where I had been going when the accident happened.

An accident, I am now beginning to realize, with a sinking feeling in my belly, might have been no accident at all.

Jesus Christ. Rose was right.

When I had told her I was going to see him again, she had called me crazy.

“You mean to tell me.” Rose had all but screamed at me. “That you intended to go off on a secret date with a man who’s name you barely even know? What happened to the Cameron who wouldn’t let me upload any pictures to the cloud because the government reads our emails?”

“I’ll have you know that I actually do know his name.”

But Rose hadn’t so much as cracked a smile. “You do realize how f*****g dangerous this is, Cameron. Don’t you?”

But I hadn’t been listening.

“Relax Rose,” I had told her, covering her hand with mine. “It'll be fine. You’ll see. And when I’m back and he proposes to me, I might even be nice enough to let you be my maid of honor.”

Stupid…Stupid…Stupid.

Now here I am, kidnapped and bleeding, tied to a chair by the man who mere nights ago had pressed me into the bed and dragged his mouth and teeth across my neck until I begged.

“You must forgive my men,” He starts, lowering himself into the chair. “They get a little overzealous sometimes.”

I sniff hard, my throat dry and hoarse. “Must I?”

Earl Salvatore, if that is even his real name, smirks in response but it doesn’t quite reach his gray blue eyes. “I forgot all about that smart mouth of yours.”

I glance around the room. At the windows covered in heavy black curtains.

I swallow past the lump in my throat and even though it hurts my face when I try to speak I do it anyway.

“Where am I? What is going on?”

“It would do you a lot of good to remain calm Cameron.”

Something about the sound of my name in his mouth makes my stomach feel just a little too tight.

I force myself to look at him.

At his perfect face and hard jaw covered with a trim beard the same dark brown as the hair slicked back from his forehead, errant strands falling forwards across his thick brows.

Earl Salvatore is a beautiful, beautiful beast of a man. And God’s above does he know it.

His muscular body is stuffed into a slick black suit that probably cost more than the price for a small island on his wrist sits a leather watch that I’m pretty sure belonged to a former president.

He slowly takes off the jacket to reveal the blue button up beneath, the sleeves of which he proceeds to carefully fold over his rippling arms.

There’s a single gold chain around his neck and when the two top buttons of his shirt come undone I can see a tattoo peeking out from the corner of his chest.

I know what tattoo it is.

I had seen it. I touched it. I ran my tongue across it.

The other men standing motionless in the room, including the two behind my chair, are also dressed in suits and they all look like they could snap my neck like a chicken bone.

I glance from them to him.

“I don’t have any money.” I say quickly, wetting my dry, stinging lip with my tongue.

“Oh I know that Miss Waters” He smirks and the deprecating way he says it has me wanting to reach across the table and wipe it off his face.

He knows my last name even though I don’t remember telling him, although given how drunk I was that night I probably did.

“Please,” my voice cracks. “I don’t understand.”

“In a minute.” Earl says flatly, utterly unmoved by my tears.

He signals to one of the guards who opens a cupboard and places a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and two glasses on the conference table in front of him.

I rattle a little more in my chair but the bounds are tight.

“Please don’t hurt me.” I hear myself whimper and Earl shrugs.

“That Miss Cameron depends entirely on you.”

Oh God.

I try to tug at my bounds again but all I succeed in doing is hurting myself.

He pours himself a glass, golden yellow liquid shushing into it smoothly. “See Cameron, I happen to have found myself in a dilemma of sorts.” He lifts a cup to me with a glint in his eye. “ Whiskey, I happen to remember you really like it”

Just the memory of that night and the things I let him do to me is enough to make me puke in my mouth.

But instead I twist in my chair. “Can’t exactly drink like this unless you would have me lap it up like some pet.”

“A pet. I like the sound of that..” He mutters thoughtfully before nodding at his men.

The ropes are cut and my arms groan with relief even as pain shoots up my shoulder.

I roll my wrist this way and that.

“You lied to me.” I whisper, still shaky even as I try my best to glare at him but he only shrugs nonchalantly.

“No, if I remember correctly, you threw yourself at me. I was simply humoring you like I do all my whores.”

He might as well have slapped me.

I shake my head, my throat tight with tears. “You asked me to run away with you.”

He smirks, utterly unconcerned about ripping my heart apart. “I wanted to see just how gullible you are. Turns out it is a lot.”

What an absolute bastard.

And just like that I am done playing the heartbroken damsel. I never could keep it up for long.

“What do you want for me?” I ask sniffing and looking away from him.

Earl lifts his glass to his lips and when he lowers it again, his eyes are narrowed and cold and trained on mine. “Marry me.”

My entire body turns to one big block of ice. The room is so silent I can hear my own heart beating in my chest.

Yet it can’t be, I must have heard wrong. I lean forward, arms resting on the table.

“I’m sorry?”

In response Earl sighs, waving one hand. “I believe the accident may have made Miss Waters hard of hearing.”

The men on either side of me suddenly grab me under the arms.

I jerk helplessly between them. “Let me go.”

They carry me across the room to deposit me in the chair next to the man

Earl shakes his head. “Too far”

Then hooking his foot around the leg of my chair he jerks it closer causing me to almost fall from my chair and into his lap.

I manage to remain in my seat but then gripping the arms of the chair he leans forwards in his until I have to shrink away from him.

His gaze trails all over my face. The blood in my hair, the cut across my cheek.

I swallow because my mouth suddenly feels dry.

The last time we were this close he had his hands between my legs.

He brushes his knuckle against my cheek and I flinch.

He smirks. “I said Cameron…”

His eyes drop from my eyes to my mouth and then back to my eyes again.

I wish he would stop saying my name like that.

“I need you,” He taps the tip of my nose with a finger. “To become my wife.”