Chapter 4 The Enemy's Embrace

MAKROS’S POV The silk dress I had chosen for her pressed against her translucent skin like glue on paper, and I envied it. It should be me. I should be the one caressing against what I imagined was the finest, most succulent nipple, ever known to man. She was playing with my senses in the most troubling way, and I couldn't help the things I wanted to do to her. “Take a picture, it should last longer,” she hissed, her tone thick with disgust. “It may seem like I've forgiven you, but I will never forget you.” Her voice had a tough edge. It made me smile. My tigress. Last night was an epic battle. Between telling the licensed priest I found online to go suck his mother, and flipping the middle finger to the cross when she was asked to say her vows. I was truly entertained. It had been a while since I met a woman who didn't want to immediately jump on me. I knew what they were all after: money and power. Who didn't want to be called Makros’ woman? Everyone else but this prickly little thing. “Seriously, stop looking at me,” she snapped. “Stop looking pretty then,” I teased, but I turned my attention back to the road. “Did my father have any last words?” The question was unexpected as it was exciting. “I remember a word I told your father,” I paused. “I told him to burn in hell. He said when I eventually join him, he would've struck a deal with the devil so he would be personally in charge of my torture.” I heard her snicker. “He was right, and you might join him in that hell much sooner than you think..” I barely had time to react when she suddenly lunged, grabbing the wheel and yanking it hard. The car swerved. “Damn it woman,” I gritted my teeth struggling to regain control. The car spinned a few metres away from a head-on collision with a truck. We crashed into a street light, glass shattering. She was wounded. A small cut on her forehead. “Are you trying to get us killed?” I asked, voice laced with fury. “Now look at what you've done to yourself.” I reached for the glove department of the car and loaded my gun so she could see. I then took out a Cotton wool and antiseptic I stashed there too. With the gun pointed at her I dabbed at her wound. “If you ever try that move again,” I said calmly, too calmly. “I will kill you.” I noticed her special fragrance was starting to fade. I would ask Dragon to find it for her and surprise her with it. See? I knew how to do good stuff too. She exhaled sharply, and after a long silence, asked, “Are we driving to Italy?” “So now you want to talk?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Do you want to know what I really want? Because it sure as hell isn’t being in this car with you.” I chuckled. “Your lips say one thing, but your eyes say another.” Her expression darkened. “What do you know about my eyes? If you can’t see how much they want to slit your throat, maybe you’re the dumb one.” From the corner of my eye, I saw her dig her nails into her palm. Good. She had the sense to be afraid. She was lashing out, saying anything to hurt me. Me? I had heard it all before. I wasn’t in the business of letting a woman rile me up. In the bedroom? Definitely. Outside of that? I was enjoying the banter. “Out of curiosity, how do you plan to kill me? I should get a heads-up, don’t you think?” “As if.” She chortled. “You won’t see me coming.” “Joke’s on you—I have eyes in the back of my head. Besides, stabbing a man in the back is cowardly.” “Says the man who wiped out my entire family like a coward.” Her eyes burned with dangerous fire again. Beautiful. “Family,” I repeated the word like it was a strange, foreign thing. Everyone spoke about family as if it were sacred. But what made one a family? No one ever gave an honest answer. I shrugged, taking a turn down the road. She could think whatever she wanted. I didn’t owe her an explanation. The car came to a stop, and I hopped out. Moving over, I opened her door and stretched out my hand for hers. She turned up her nose and pushed past me. So sexy. My eyes trailed after her as she walked toward Dragon. Dragon was my underboss. He was a man who learned to shoot before he said his first words. He wasn't only a killer machine though, he had some unexpected talents, like his impeccable cooking. From the way Leila's apple-shaped ass swayed with each step to the way her long legs carried her like a queen, I knew one thing—I had to have her soon. Or I would combust. We boarded the jet, and she sat as far from me as possible. I didn’t mind. It gave me time to think about what I would say to my family. I could already picture their faces when I dropped the bomb. Not pretty faces. It was probably easier to tell them my lust was the reason I married the American instead of coming up with a more elaborate excuse. I closed my eyes, letting my mind relax. By the time I opened them, the jet had landed. Dragon was already directing my wife out of her seat. She walked past me, but I quickly shrugged off my coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. She paused, turning sharply to face me. Her eyes—shocked, confused, proud. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m fine.” “You may be now, but once the temperature drops you won’t be.” “Thank you,” she muttered hastily, turning before I could respond. I chuckled as we walked down. A car awaited us. This time, she had no choice but to sit beside me. I could feel her warmth directly beside me. As night fell, she finally spoke. “What’s your family like?” I turned to her, caught off guard. “Pardon?” She faced me with those big almond eyes, and for a fleeting second, I saw how young she was. “If I brought a man out of nowhere and called him my husband, my brothers would wring his neck before he even introduced himself.” I smirked. “Oh, you want to know what to expect?” I reclined in my seat, giving it some thought. What were the Cretes like? It depended. Were we talking about my immediate family or my empire? Either way, they would have to get used to seeing her around. “Think of the Italian version of your family,” I mused. “Badder, though.” "Bet," she muttered, looking down at her hands. Her fingers curled into her palm again. Nervous. Or scared. I did something that went against my very nature. I slipped my hand into hers, bringing it to my lap. “What are you doing?” She tried to pull away. “We’re here,” I murmured. “Act normal. You are my muse. That’s the only way to survive my family and me.” The car rolled to a stop. She raised her head, and a gasp left her throat. “What the hell is this? You monster! What is this?” “What?” I followed her eyes as if I wasn't already aware of the spectacle. “Oh, you mean my family?” I knew they were going to gather to witness my entrance firsthand, especially after I sent that message. I didn't just expect them to line up down to the house, like weirdo's. “They're out to welcome you.” The car door opened, and she stepped out. I followed immediately, gently interlacing my fingers with hers. We had barely taken a step forward when I heard the sound of a cane beating the floor. She tried to lead the walk, but I drew her back. She turned to me, her brows raised. “Wait,” I mouthed, and she looked ahead. As expected, Don Matteo, the oldest patriarch of the Crete family, came into view. Judging by the grimace on his wrinkled face, he wasn't a bit pleased. Good. I had finally managed to piss him off. “Dragon, show my wife, Leila, to our room. I'll speak to my father briefly.” I pulled my hands away from hers, intentionally refusing to look at her face. I knew she was confused, but she needed to learn as quickly as possible that there was no room for weakness here. That was the biggest difference between the family she came from, and mine. We were bloody bitches. The biggest thugs. Merciless gangsters, and we never hesitated. The mumbling began. Soon it was audible enough for me to hear. How does one wipe out an entire family and go ahead to claim their daughter for himself? Isn't that a surefire way to get killed? They would ask, not to my face of course, they wouldn't dare. The Don stopped when I reached him. He gave me a quick once over and turned around. I could feel his rage, and it only fueled my rebellion the more. “Maledizione Makros!” He suddenly screamed, stomping his cane to the ground. “Seguimi!” I gladly followed him as instructed. I wanted to hear the bullshit he had to say now. He and everyone knew that no one could change my mind once it was set, but I would love to see them try.