Merciless Vows by Faith Summers

8

Lucca

“You need to look at this,” Jon states, rushing into the garage.

In his hands is a sheet of paper that instantly grabs my attention.

I straighten up, setting my wrench down on the worktop next to the tools I had laid out to modify the car that came in from Japan yesterday.

The last time Jon came in like this, he’d found the CCTV footage of Raphael.

“What is it?” I ask.

He hands me the paperwork, and I see it’s printouts of emails.

“It’s from the State’s Attorney’s personal files. Gibbs faxed them over.”

The moment I hear the mention of Gibbs, I know this is serious shit. Gibbs is an underground P.I. used by some of those in my circle of allies. He’s renowned for his unorthodox methods of finding out dirt on people.

I got his name from my old friends, Aiden Romanov, Pakhan of the Voirik, the only other Brotherhood that coexists in L. A with the Yurkov and use our services.

On the surface, we share business because Aiden has a logistics company that’s useful to us. Because we’ve been friends since we were boys, he shares resources like Gibbs.

From the look of this email, I can see what’s got Jon so worked up.

The email is from the State's Attorney to Raphael.

It’s a short email:

Raphael,

You bastard. I know what you’re doing with the charity and who you’re working with.

Rest assured, you won’t get away with it.

That’s what it says, and it confirms my damn thoughts that Raphael is working for someone else.

“Motherfucker,” I hiss.

“I know. It’s short but says a lot,” Jon states.

“Yes, this is clearly why the State’s Attorney is dead. I don’t think he knew what he was dealing with or what Raphael was capable of.”

Dennis was probably one of the few politicians who didn’t wear a mask. Not that he wasn’t shady, but there are different levels of shady.

Raphael isn’t just shady as fuck in the vanilla world. He’s a mafia man parading as one of the good guys.

“Did Gibbs say anything else?” I ask.

“No, just that he’s still looking into it. As am I.”

I nod at that. Jon is like Gibbs, but from the moment we started digging deep and not finding anything, I realized we needed a helping hand from a man who deals with the unorthodox and has access to resources we might not have.

“What do we do, Lucca? Feels like we’ve been running around behind the Pakhan’s back for years.”

I know he’s worried about that, and the deeper we go down the path we’re traveling on, the more disloyal we become to the oaths we took when we joined the Brotherhood.

“If you feel uncomfortable, Jon—”

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me shit about if I feel uncomfortable,” he chuckles. “I have your back. You, me, and Timothy were like family. This is for him and his family. And it’s for us too. I will make sure that motherfucker gets what’s coming to him. I’m simply pointing out facts.”

I nod, understanding and appreciating. Timothy and I met Jon when we were in our teens training to be the formidable men we are now. We were always going to be part of the enforcement squad.

“This charity, which do you think it is?” Raphael supports many, and they, in turn, back him and his campaign.

“That’s the very thing I’m looking into. But with no information, all I can do is guess. I did run an analysis of his accounts. There’s no sign of him embezzling any money. I thought it might be that. I’ll continue to look, though. Maybe he has accounts I can’t find.”

“I’ll do some digging around and try to pinpoint what charity he meant.” More hands less work, and the quicker we get answers. “Maybe if we find out this part, we might get some answers for the past.”

“Yeah. If it fits, you know what guys like him are like.” He runs a hand over his beard. “They’re nasty fuckers who work for anybody who can fill their pockets with the most coins.”

“I know. I’m just hoping. It feels like the same pattern of vague. I don’t like that there are no traces of anything. No leads.”

“No, and now that you have his daughter and are close to taking his business, I’m sure the flames of Hell are ready to blow your way.”

At the mention of Aria, I think of what it’s been like to have her in my house.

The first and second nights weren’t too bad because of the anticipation of what was going to happen with Raphael.

It was this morning that did a number on me. I didn’t plan to speak to her until tonight. When she spoke to me earlier, the woman showed more balls than most men I know couldn’t pretend to have. She even told me to go fuck myself. That wasn’t the shy girl I used to know.

She wouldn’t know, or remember, she’s probably like that instinctually because of me and the bad influence I had on her as kids. At least she grew a spine.

I got a good look at it this morning until she crumbled when I confirmed my ownership of her.

I could have been as merciless as I‘m known to be and told her how her father didn’t seem to care as he signed her life away. The fucker even called me that same night to make sure the deal was done, and he had our silence.

That happened just after I saw her on the patio outside the bedroom.

As I’d spoken to him, I wondered how he could sacrifice her with such ease. She was right to think of herself as an animal. That’s exactly how she’s been treated, and my hands are just as dirty as her father’s in the matter.

“It is what it is,” I state mindlessly.

“What about her? You’re acting different again, Merciless. The same way you did when you saw her years ago.”

I hate he notices, but it’s true. I am acting differently. Even I can feel it. Maybe it’s because I want to fuck her. The fact that I’m at work earlier than planned gives me away.

The only other thing that can take the edge off when I can’t fuck is working on my cars. Jon and I run an exotic car sales business. I modify them, and he sells them. It’s our side hustle. I came here after my encounter with Aria to distract myself and my dick.

Seeing Aria again wasn’t supposed to affect me at all, and if I’m honest, I find myself hoping she won’t remember me because there’s worse to come in the grand scheme of things.

I’m sure my wife-to-be won’t like the fact that I don’t just plan to destroy her father; I’m going to kill him too.

“She’s just collateral damage at the end of the day.”

“Is she? I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into. The rules seem to change when it comes to her. It did last time.”

Last time the ball was in my court, I exercised a thing I’m not known for.

It was compassion.

We’re not known to be men of compassion. It is that way because life never showed us any. It was our nightmares that put us on the path we’re on.

I still remember mine, and they existed long before seeing Timothy and the little family he created dead before me.

The image of my family massacred will never leave me, and it continues to shape who and what I am.

“What happened last time won’t happen again,” I promise.

“Alright.” He nods then some humor comes back to his eyes when he smirks. “So she’ll just be a fuck toy then?”

“Yes.”

“I thought that was my job,” comes a sugary voice from the door.

We both look at Violet as she strides in with her hands on her hips and a seductive smirk on her face.

Jon cuts me a questioning glance. One that asks me if I’m still fooling around with her. Like always, I keep people guessing when it comes to women who are interested in me, even one of my closest friends.

“I’ll see you later,” Jon says. “Maybe we’ll do some wedding planning,” he adds loud enough for Violet to hear.

I notice the moment she does, but other than the quirk of her perfectly arched brow, she gives nothing more away.

Jon leaves, and Violet walks down the steps in her six-inch heels with a bright smile on her face.

She’s worked for me on and off for the last five years as my P. A.

Up until last week, she was on. Then she got a modeling gig with Sports Illustrated, or so she says.

On one occasion, she told me something like that, and I found out she took a hundred grand to be some old prick’s fuck toy for a week.

I got her from an agency when we first set up shop and kept her on because it was easy. She’s actually good at being a P. A., and I won’t deny taking what she had to offer on more than one occasion. So what she said is right.

I’m assuming she’s here to ask for her job back, but hearing about a wedding is going to have her questioning me about that.

Thanks, Jon.

“Help you with something?” I ask.

“I came to ask for my job back. I assume you haven’t filled the position yet,” she coos.

We have the same conversation every single time. “You can have your job back.”

She smiles wide, revealing perfect white teeth, and tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Thanks, Boss. What about my other job?” Her eyes drop to my dick, and I fold away the email and tuck it in my pocket.

“No, I’ll just need you for the office.”

She giggles and comes closer, running a perfectly manicured finger over my chest.

“Who’s getting married, Lucca?”

“Me.”

The smile falls from her face. “Oh. I didn’t even know you were dating or that you were the marrying kind.”

This is exactly what I meant about people asking questions. There will be those like her who will stir up shit at the first opportunity.

“She’s not pregnant, is she?” she intones, tapping her finger to the side of her head. “I didn’t think you’d marry for that either.”

“Violet,” I step forward, and the seriousness in my face must make her check herself because the humor fades from her expression. “Try to remember who I am. Concern yourself with the work I pay you to do or get the fuck out. Understand?”

“Yeah, sure. I was just curious because we’ve been fooling around for so long. Of course, I’d be curious.”

“Don’t be.” The last thing I want is for her to cause trouble, and she’s the kind to do just that. “There are some files I need sorted when you get in in the morning. They’re on my desk.”

“Okay.”

If I were smart, I’d fuck her and satisfy my need to get laid, so I’m not affected by the dark-haired beauty in my house. But I go back to my office, leaving her standing where she is watching me.

Once inside, I take out the email again and re-read it.

Even though Raphael is affiliated with a number of charities, at least I know it’s one of them, and I have some form of lead.

Where will it take me, though?

I spend the rest of the evening looking through some of the documents Jon sent me on the charities he wanted a second eye on. Nothing stands out to me, so at ten, I jump on my motorcycle and head home.

Since I already decided I’d sleep in one of the guest rooms, I head straight there, but I have a plan up my sleeve to check on my wife-to-be.

I have the surveillance system linked to my laptop and my phone, so I can see what’s happening in my house when I’m away. It comes in handy for times like these too.

I grab the laptop, access the system then find my room. Then I see the raven-haired beauty.

She’s not sleeping. Instead, she’s sitting on the bed, looking through a textbook of sorts. I can’t see what it is.

She’s wearing a silky camisole top with a pair of shorts that match. No bra. Her hair is in that messy bun it was in the other night. It’s sexy like that. I prefer her hair down, though. That’s sexier, and I prefer her with no clothes on—just that perfect body of hers on show.

The last time I saw her naked, it was different from the perv I’m being now.

I shouldn’t have been looking at her like that then. Not in that fucked up situation I had to save her from. I couldn’t help myself any more than I can now. Back then, it was curiosity that made me look. I couldn’t restrain myself from seeing how much the -ten-year-old girl I’d seen years before had changed.

There’s nothing to stop me from looking now, and I don’t have to feel any form of shame. No one ever mistook a devil like me for being a good man.

Thank fuck she can’t hear my filthy thoughts because she definitely wouldn’t do what she does next.

My Printsessa pulls off her camisole top, revealing her big, perky tits, which look bigger than the last time I saw her.

She then adds to the sexy as fuck vision she is by loosening her hair from the bun, allowing the velvet locks to tumble down her delicate shoulders.

She closes the book, glances about her like she’s expecting someone to jump out from behind the curtains, then walks over to the door to lock it. She checks to make sure the little latch is secured before moving away.

I chuckle. Poor thing, she thinks it’s locked. It’s not. Not to me.

Seeming more relaxed, she’s locked in; she takes off her shorts, revealing her perfect pussy, and in that moment, my fucking cock becomes so hard I think I might burst in my pants.

My eyes stay glued to her clean-shaven pussy then her lush ass as she walks over to the window and opens it.

She’s hot in every sense of the word. I agree the weather is stifling, but fuck me, I never thought she’d be the type to sleep naked.

Her breasts bobble as she walks back to the bed and climbs on top of it, showing me her ass again.

Fuck me. I have to give myself credit for not marching down there right now and taking her.

She switches off the light pulling the thinner sheet over her bottom half.

With nothing but the moonlight beaming down on her breasts, she lies on her back, and that’s the image that stays with me.

I watch her until she falls asleep. By then, I’m pitching a tent, and I know there are only two things to fix me. Either go to my room and fuck her senseless or take care of myself in the shower.

When I find myself stepping in the shower with a cold spray of water pouring over my head and pumping my dick in my hands, I feel like I lied to Jon and myself too.

A woman who is simply collateral damage wouldn’t have this effect on me— me jerking off in the shower like I’ve lost my damn mind.

The release I get as my cum sprays against the granite walls only satisfies me to some degree. I know even as I watch it go down the drain that doing this won’t be enough.

It wasn’t last time either.