Heartless Lover by Faith Summers

1

Eric

6 Years ago

The darkness engulfing my mind recedes.

It fades away as a sense of awareness comes to me.

I’m between sleep and awake, but I can’t remember falling asleep, and I have that mind-fucked sensation of not knowing where the hell I am. The last time I got like this was at a frat party in college. While I’m a few years away from college, I’m still the reckless asshole I used to be.

I just can’t remember what’s going on.

I make the mistake of trying to move, and I’m met with a sharp, mind-numbing pain that stabs through my head and shoots down my body.

Fuck.

What the hell happened to me?

The agony is so intense it churns my stomach and scrambles my brain.

The pain pulsing from the back of my head feels like someone hit me with a gasoline truck.

Hit me…

Wait… that is what happened.

Someone hit me.

I remember the blow.

Someone sucker punched me.

I was in my apartment. I just stepped inside and closed the door, then it happened.

Against the pounding pain, the realization forces my eyes open, and I find myself staring at a murky gray stone wall.

When I try to move again, chains clink. The rattling makes my blood run cold and I snap my head around, looking left then right, instantly seeing I’m shirtless and bound by chains to metal poles on either side of me.

My fucking legs are bound too.

Helplessness overpowers the pain in my body, and I thrash against the chains, trying to break free. It’s no fucking use, though. I can’t do anything but hang here and be at the fucking mercy of whoever did this to me.

Who did this?

Fuck. I need to figure this out.

Panic assails me, and I look around the dark, dank room.

There’s a dim light hanging over my head, and I can hear water dripping onto the ground behind me. To my right is a set of stone steps leading up to a door.

From what I can see, I think I might be in a dungeon. The damp, moldy smell filling my nose tells me I might be right.

Closing my eyes, I will myself to concentrate and push past the fog surrounding my brain. That’s when I remember what happened before the darkness took me.

I remember hearing his voice—Robert.

My best friend.

I heard his voice after I got hit and fell to the ground. The hard thud of heavy boots against my wooden floor filled my ears as I lay there, slipping into unconsciousness, but I couldn’t see anybody. Then I heard his voice. I’m sure it was him.

He was talking to someone. It must have been on the phone because I can’t remember hearing anyone else in the room.

“I got him.” That’s what he’d said. I’m sure that’s what I heard him say.

So he hit me?

Robert?

That makes no sense. He’s my best friend.

But it was him in the room. I know it was.

So, he hit me?

I open my eyes again as I try to process what happened. Memories begin to flow of the fucking trouble I was in before this.

I was going to run. Run to keep the knowledge I have out of the wrong hands and protect my family.

I sent Robert an email asking him to look after my mother and sister.

I emailed with an encrypted code because it was safer. Or so I thought.

The creak of a door opening cuts into my thoughts, and I look up the steps just in time to see my best friend stepping into the room.

I stare at him as he takes one step at a time, and I try to process what’s going on.

I know there’s only one thing his presence here could mean. It’s just that my mind can’t accept it.

I’ve known this guy all my life. We met when we were five and went to school together.

He’s like a brother to me.

So, I can’t accept he sold me out to my enemies and delivered Judas’s kiss of betrayal.

When he gets to the bottom of the steps, the light shines down on his jet-black hair and illuminates his dark brown eyes.

His eyes always reminded me of coal. As I stare at them, the darkness I see is pure evil, and it’s the first time I see who he truly is.

“You, you did this to me?” I ask, cutting straight to the shit.

“I did.”

“You fucking asshole. You fucking dog. How could you—”

My voice cuts when a bolt of electricity pierces through me. It wracks my body from head to toe, and a roar of anguish rips from my throat. The sound is so animalistic it takes me a moment to realize it’s coming from me.

The intense pain makes me shake as every volt ripples through my body, piercing straight through to my soul. Even when the blast stops, I shudder. My brain is so rattled I barely register the remote Robert is holding. It’s not until he lifts it and runs his finger over the button, I see it properly.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t piss me off,” he smirks. “It’s not me who’s the fucking dog today. It’s you. You’re the one who’s going to do as he’s told.”

Jesus, I feel like I’m going to die. My head is spinning, and my stomach churning.

I stare at Robert and try to steady my thoughts. This is what he had to do to beat me, but why?

I need to know why he did this to me and where he’s taken me.

“Where the hell am I, Robert?” I grate out.

“Brazil.”

My eyes widen, and my jaw slackens more than it already is.

Brazil?What the fuck am I doing in Brazil?

We were in San Francisco.

“What the hell am I doing chained up in Brazil?” I spit, seething. I want to unleash, but I can’t.

I can’t unleash for myself, my own sanity. Besides, it’s not like I can do shit while being chained to these poles.

“You’re going to do whatever Jude wants you to do.”

The moment I hear that name, it tells me everything I need to know.

Jude Kuzmin is the guy my grandfather appointed C.E.O of our family company, Markov Tech. My grandfather wanted that role separate to the ownership because of the varied responsibilities. So while I’m the heir to the company and the ownership passed to me after my grandfather’s death, Jude still had a good amount of power and control. He, however, wanted everything. He wanted the entire legacy and me out of the picture, but not before making use of me. It was too late when I realized what he was up to or that he had an ace up his sleeve in the form of my best friend.

I don’t know when or how Jude got to Robert, but he fucking did, and that means this is the beginning of the end for me.

“What did you do, Robert?”

“Something for me, for once in my life.” His answer holds no emotion and is as cold as his eyes. “Something that will benefit me for once.”

“What did he promise you?”

Everyone has a price, and Jude knew what Robert’s was.

“Everything.”

“It’s a lie. He won’t give it to you,” I growl.

“Oh, but he already has, Eric.”

That shuts me down, and the smile that inches across his face seals my doom.

It tells me I’ve lost, and there’s nothing I can do.

The fucked-up thing about it is, this is my fault.

I started to rebel long before my grandfather died. I didn’t understand why he would turn his back on the Bratva and want to keep me out of that world.

Then to add salt to my open wounds, my father was the same. For whatever part he played as my father, he wanted me out too. Out of the Bratva, and the Italian mafia to which he belonged.

But you can’t tame a wild bird and make it something it’s not. So, when Jude took an interest in my talents, I was enticed. I never knew he was using me to get to my grandfather’s weapon designs. Not just any weapon, either. It was the weapon of all weapons, and he wanted to sell it to the Order. A group of fucking terrorists who work for crooked politicians. I got myself mixed up with them through him.

That was what I was trying to escape. With the plan I had, the only way they could have gotten to me was by doing this.

Getting my friend to betray me.

I look at him now, and everything else makes sense. He must have been playing me long before now. I can’t believe I never saw this coming. I’ve always known what kind of bastard he was. I just never thought he’d be that way with me.

“How could you do this to me! I trusted you. We’re supposed to be friends.”

He laughs, and the hollow sound bounces off the walls. “Yes, I think we were at one point. Maybe in our younger years. But then things changed when you thought it was okay to make decisions for the both of us.”

“Jude is fucking evil!” I shout.

“You’re so full of yourself you can’t see straight. You act like you didn’t know what he was when he offered you power.”

“That was different.” It wasn’t, but I hate that he’s right about that part. I always knew Jude was a fucking bastard, and I questioned my grandfather’s judgment when he made him C.E.O. of the company. What I didn’t know was what Jude had up his sleeves. “I didn’t know he was after the weapon.”

“Well, I did, and it was the one thing that made me useful to him. I delivered you to him, and now you’ll finish the design your grandfather started.”

“You fucking asshole, what makes you think I’m going to do shit?”

“You sent me an email yesterday. You wanted me to look after your mother and sister.” His smile widens, and immediately I know the direction he’s going with whatever threat he’s got ready for me.

“Leave them alone!” My mother and sister know nothing of my life, and they’d be ashamed to know who I’ve allied myself with.

“Eric Markov, you aren’t in a position to give orders. You’re about to get a very rude awakening. If you don’t do what you’re told, they’re dead.”

While I’m going crazy, he’s talking to me in that calm as fuck voice I’ve always hated.

“You’re not going to get away with this! I will kill you!”

Another blast of electricity pulses through me, and this time, the surge of power makes my body feel like it might combust.

My head slumps down, and I crumple, weak against the restraints holding me up.

Robert comes closer, moving right up to me.

I manage to lift my head when he rests a heavy hand on my shoulder.

“You will not kill me, friend. I’m afraid this is the end of the road for you and me. We won’t cross paths ever again. You will die here, but I will leave and be a very rich man.”

“I will kill you,” I repeat the words even though I know I can’t do anything.

“No, you won’t because you’re already dead. By this time next week, the world will think you died in a car crash. They’ll think we both did.”

I glare at him. That doesn’t make sense. “You? Why you?”

“It’s a small price I had to pay. Dead men tell no tales. However, like the phoenix, I’ll rise from the ashes and be whoever I want to be. The most important thing is your mother and sister will think we died—that you died. Then Jude will do whatever the fuck he wants to do to your family and take Markov Tech. That’s what’s going to happen.”

“You fucking bastard,” I choke out.

“Yes, I am.”

“I will end you for betraying me like this.”

He responds by pressing the button again, and this time, the electricity surges straight through to my soul.

Madness takes me at the same time the shock’s intensity increases.

All I see is Robert’s smiling face as I’m engulfed by pain.

But the promise of revenge echoes in my heart, mind, and soul.

If I ever get out of here, I will end him by whatever means necessary.

Chapter 1

Summer

Present Day

“Are you okay?” Marquees asks. His voice sounds staticky on the other end of the line.

“Yes, I’m okay,” I tell him, even though I feel far from fine and I’m sure I heard a noise. I just don’t know if the sound came from outside or inside the house.

What if Jake found me?

How would he know where to find me?

I’m in a cottage nestled in the woodlands of San Bernardino, approximately one hour away from L.A. The cottage is still listed in my grandmother’s maiden name, so my name isn’t linked to it in any way, shape, or form.

I’m supposed to be safe here. I should be safe here. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself since I left Marquees and got on the plane which would take me back to the States. He took me as far as Nice. I was on my own from there.

I gaze through the bedroom window and check the dark woods. There’s no one outside. There shouldn’t be. My closest neighbor is a mile away, and to them, the cottage and the surrounding lands are out of bounds.

“I’m just scared,” I rasp and try to stave off another bout of tears.

“I know, sweetie. Everything is the same here, so try to stay strong to keep yourself safe.”

“I’m trying.”

I’m doing my best. I’ve been here for a week and on edge, to say the least. The slightest sound makes me jumpy. I know I can’t stay here forever, but I’m

going to stay for as long as I can. Scarlett used to use the cottage as a getaway from the city. It’s one of the few assets my grandmother left us that didn’t get taken away after Mom died.

I managed to get an old car from the dealer in town, so I’ve been to the convenience store to get food and other things for the house. I haven’t been anywhere else. Since there isn’t much storage space in the cottage, I had to go to the store twice. The day after I arrived and earlier today. I bought a ton of canned food and bottled water that should last me a while.

“Okay, go now. I’ll check in again when I can. Just to be on the safe side, it may be best if I only call if I have news.”

“I understand.” It would be a shame to get this far and fuck things up because we weren’t careful on the phone. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You did a lot for me when no one else would help. I’ll never forget that.”

I sigh because that isn’t the same thing. Knowing someone’s darkest secrets is different from helping them stay alive. Definitely not when he’s bailed me out of shit more times than I can count.

What he’s referring to is the fact that I’m the only person who knows he killed Sergio Marchesi, a Don of one of the most powerful crime families in Italy.

Sergio killed Marquees’ family to teach him a lesson after a drug bust. He went into their home and executed them in their sleep: Marquees’ wife, his newborn son, and two daughters. Sergio killed them all.

Because of who he was, no one wanted to do anything about it.

I helped Marquees get his revenge on Sergio. At the time, I was working in a seedy underground bar reserved for the fucked up and dangerous. I was barely old enough to work there, but I needed money, and they needed cheap labor.

When Marquees found out Sergio was doing business there, I helped by playing the bait that lured Sergio in for the final kill. The asshole had a taste for young girls. That happened six years ago, and to this day, he’s listed as missing, but that means dead in our world.

“That was different, Marquees.”

“It wasn’t. What you did for me was important to me. It took guts, and we barely knew each other at the time.”

At the time, we’d only known each other for a little under eight months.

Something tugs on my heart when I think back to how we first met. I’d been in Monaco for just under a month when someone broke into the shit hole of an apartment I managed to rent. They stole all my money. Everything I had left from selling the pearls Grandmama left me.

The landlady kicked me out when she realized I wouldn’t be able to pay the rent. Never mind it being her fault for not fixing the door when I complained. I doubt, though, fixing the door would have stopped anyone from breaking in. The place was a dive, and I stuck out like a sore thumb.

Marquees found me on the road in tears with nothing but the clothes on my back. He and his wife took me in and got me a place six months later.

“You’ve helped me more than anyone has. You and your family.” I lost my way the day Grandmama died. They were the first people to show me kindness in years. Meeting Marquees and his wife helped to balance me. They made me feel human again. “Your wife was like the mother I wish I had. Of course, I was going to help you.”

He’s silent for a moment. The sound of nothingness is reverent against the drumming of my heart in my ears.

I hear him drag in a labored breath then release it.

“Then you know she’d want me to save you. I want to save you. Goodbye, my Belle. Be safe.”

“You too, Marquees.”

We hang up, and I think of the endearment he just gave me.

Belle. When we first met, his wife called me that because she thought I looked like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Although I’m nothing like her, I was flattered. The reference, however, was too pure for a woman like me.

My life has been more like Alice’s, except instead of going to Wonderland, I ended up in the infernal flames of Hell. I just kept going deeper, falling from one circle of Hell to the next. Now I worry about what will happen to me by the time I reach the bottom.

I look at the wooden beams in the ceiling and laugh, sounding like a crazy person. Or like when I was high on crack.

I’m laughing at myself. What the fuck makes me think I haven’t reached the bottom circle of Hell yet?

There’s nothing funny about the shit I’ve landed myself in. From where I’m standing, everything that’s happened so far sure looks like what I imagined the bottom of Hell to look like. It’s just that I was inclined to think Jake was the devil.

But no… the devil is me. I destroyed myself.

Maybe up until the point where I sold my body to Club Montage, people could feel sorry for me.

When I started working there, I never told anyone. The embarrassment of what sent me there was bad enough, but working in a place like that, seemed like I was becoming the whore I had been called when Mom died.

After the debt I landed myself in, it was the only place I could find that would get me the kind of money I needed to pay off the drug dealers I was foolish enough to owe. That’s what happened to me. Drugs.

The same drugs Marquees sent me to rehab to kick.

Up until two weeks ago, he didn’t know I was lying about where I worked, and he never knew I fucked myself over with one relapse.

Just one. That was all it took to start this chain reaction that ended up with Scarlett dead.

I relapsed when I saw Ted Nicholson—the monster, a.k.a. my former stepfather, and current Governor of New York, featured in People Magazine’s special edition as their Man of the Year after winning an award for his hard work with the homeless young women in the city.

Seeing the article was like a kick in the face. That man singlehandedly destroyed my life beyond repair and eradicated all my dreams.

I’d been clean for three years, but I was back in my dealer’s lair that same evening.

I foolishly fell into the trap they wanted to ensnare me in, and I owed them. Then I owed some more when I lost the job. When you owe people like them, they put on whatever interest they feel is appropriate. So, five grand became twenty, and when I couldn’t pay, it turned into thirty. As the days went by, they added a grand a day. When it turned into sixty and the threat of my life hung in the balance, I found Club Montage.

That’s how I met Jake.

Jake owned the club with a guy called Cassius Dent. I’ve worked there for a little over a month. When you work at Club Montage, they own you. When you’re a poor, unfortunate soul like me, earning nearly two grand a night to save your life sounds like a good deal. Except, given my past, it felt like the final nail in the coffin which buried the girl I used to be.

So, I promised myself that if I became their slave, I’d want something for myself in the end. Not just to get out of trouble. I promised myself I’d use the money I earned after my debt was paid to go back to school and get back on the path I was supposed to be on.

Then this happened, and I have no one here to turn to. Dad is always going to be out of the picture.

Although Scarlett’s body is still in Monte Carlo, he will have known what happened by now.

He must be going crazy and probably cursing me to death now too.

Dad and I haven’t spoken in eight long years. I wish I could gather the courage to go and see him and apologize for my part in Scarlett’s death, but I can’t.

Feeling the way I do, I don’t think I could look him in the eye and tell him how it’s my fault his daughter got killed by a monster I wasn’t supposed to know.

I move to sit on the bed, but I stop in my tracks when I hear that noise again. God, I can hear something. It’s a … shuffling sound.

This time I’m sure it’s coming from downstairs.

What should I do?

Fuck, it’s not like I can stay up here and wait. And wait for what? I need to check the place out and see what the noise is.

Because the cottage is in the woods, chances are the noise I’m hearing is probably outside. It could be a fox or a raccoon.

To be on the safe side, I retrieve the revolver Scarlett keeps in the nightstand and hold it by my side. We both hate guns, but I understand why she got it to protect herself out here.

The moment I step outside the room, my nerves spike.

Something feels off about the place, and there’s a presence in the air that wasn’t there before.

God, what if Jake has found me, and he’s here?

Why am I even thinking that? Jake has powerful mafia connections. He has people everywhere in the world who can do his bidding. He doesn’t have to come here himself.

Carefully, I put one foot in front of the other and go down the stairs.

Keeping my gun close, the first room I decide to venture into is the living room. It has sliding doors. If anyone comes in, they will come through that way, or possibly the kitchen, which is directly at the back of the cottage.

If someone is in there, I’ll escape through the front door.

Pulling in a deep breath, I walk into the living room, and that’s when I see a tall, muscular man with dark blond hair standing by the window.

I freeze in my tracks, everything inside me stopping, including my heart.

With his back turned to me, he’s just standing there looking through the window.

He must know I’m here, but he hasn’t turned around yet.

I try to calm down and consider if this guy could potentially be someone Scarlett knew. Maybe a boyfriend or a guy who wanted to be. We both had no shortage of men like that.

But she would tell me. She always told me. There hasn’t been anyone recently, and not someone who’d think it was okay to come to this cottage without her being here.

With that reasoning, my mind swiftly jumps to the other thing this guy could be.

Danger.

All I can see as he stands before me is wide powerful shoulders and muscles pressing against the outline of his black leather jacket.

A pair of black jeans slinks low on his hips and display long, athletic legs.

He has the look and vibe of one of them—a dangerous man.

Even before he turns to face me, I already know he’s going to have that deadly handsome look all beautiful devils have. He does.

He definitely does, except even with my assumption, I’m not prepared to see him face to face.

Sharp, baby blue eyes stare back at me, deep-set in a face that has all angles and planes.

A five o’clock shadow dusts lightly over his cheeks, accentuating his high exotic cheekbones.

He’s beautiful, and the beauty I see tempts me to stare and forget the danger he could be. It’s only when he tilts his head to the side and a lock of hair falls over his eye that the trance breaks.

“Who are you?” I ask, trying to keep the quiver out of my voice.

“My name is Eric Markov.” The deep baritone of his voice works its way into me and spikes my nerves.

“What do you want?”

“Let’s just say I’m a friend.” The corners of his lips turn up into a smooth, sexy smile.

“What kind of friend are you?” I rasp out.

He glances down at the gun I have pressed against my side, and I squeeze my hand tightly around the cold steel barrel. When his gaze flicks back up to meet mine, the smile fades, and his eyes darken to the blue of a stormy afternoon.

“I’m the kind of friend who knows you’re Summer Reeves, Babydoll.”

That’s all I need to know to confirm he’s here to kill me.

A combination of terror and adrenaline snaps me into action. I raise the gun, aim, and shoot. The gun makes a deafening sound as the bullet leaves it.

I was sure I was going to hit him, but I missed and now he’s coming after me.

I scream and fire another bullet mindlessly which he evades. That’s when common sense kicks in and shouts at me to run and get the fuck out of here. This guy has me outmatched. I’m an amateur, and all I’ve done is piss him off.

I break into a run but manage one mere step before a strong arm secures around my middle and hauls me into the air.

“Are you crazy?” he growls, but I’m not listening to him.

Once again, I’m thinking of surviving.

Of trying to live.

I can’t allow him to kill me without a fight. Giving up will only assist him in killing me quicker. Giving up will be spitting on Scarlett’s death. So, I must fight.

“Get your hands off me!”

He tries to get the gun away, but I hold my arm up high above us, out of his reach.

Like a wild animal, I kick him in his crotch, and his legs give.

We both fall, and when he lands on top of me, I accidentally fire another shot. Something in the background shatters, but I don’t waste time trying to figure out what it is.

I scramble away from him and propel myself forward on the hardwood floor. However, he reaches for me once more. This time tearing off my dress.

“Fucking hell, you are one crazy bitch.”

He flips me onto my back and pins my hands over my head. That doesn’t stop me from fighting, though. I still thrash against him.

“Let me go, you fucking bastard.”

“I don’t think so,” he answers with a crude smile.

A second later, he relieves me of the gun effortlessly, and I stop moving when he presses the steel barrel to my neck.

My breath hitches when he lowers to my face and I almost think he’s going to kiss me.

What kind of psycho kisses a woman before he kills her?

My lungs burn with the scorching breath I’m holding. As he presses harder into my neck, the vision of his handsome face starts fading, and I know whatever he’s doing to me is going to make me pass out. Maybe that’s how he kills. Maybe he thinks it’s kinder. So, you don’t see. You die in your sleep.

“I was right. You are fiery,” he states. It’s such an odd thing to say.

“Let me… go.” It’s my final plea.

“Sorry, Babydoll, I can’t do that. You have information I need.”

Information.

I’m not sure if I say the word or think it because everything turns pitch black in my mind. I’m forced to submit to the helplessness that overpowers me.