Breaking Bella by Jenna Rose

1

Brax

Cold.That’s all I feel anymore. A constant sensation so deep in my gut that I’m almost numb to the world now.

I used to be different. Fueled by rage, a burning passion to reach the top. But those days are long behind me. I got what I wanted. I became the boss of Miami, and the roaring flames inside me lessened, until only a smoldering pile of coals remained.

And eventually those went out too, leaving behind the mere shell of a man. And that’s me.

And what was I fighting for anyway?

To carve out a space for myself in the world where I’m surrounded by yes-men just looking for a handout and women just looking for an easy life?

I thought being feared would fill the void inside of me.

I was wrong.

Now I can only watch the rest of the world from the outside and wonder what it would be like to be a part of it again. I know that can never be. Not after what I’ve done. Not after the bodies I’ve left behind me to get to where I am today. Not after the rivers of blood I’ve waded through. There’s no such thing as “normal” for me. Not anymore.

But I can still wish.

And that’s why I’m here tonight, seated in my usual corner table of the bar, watching the tourists and locals go about their business. It’s Friday night, which means a lot of dates. I haven’t been on an honest date with a woman since I was a teenager. And that was a long time ago.

A girl sits down to my right, overdressed for this place, and tosses her hair for her underdressed date. They’re meeting for the first time and are both obviously nervous. There’s another couple by the bar—I’ve seen them here before. Smartly dressed, I’m pretty sure they’re colleagues testing the waters as to whether or not they should cross that line from professional to personal.

Don’t do it, buddy. She’s not worth risking your career over.

I swirl my whiskey on the rocks and take another sip and wonder what my life could have been like had things gone another direction for me. Maybe it could be me sitting there on a date with a girl I’m eager to get to know, instead of sitting here in the shadows, observing “normal” society like the outsider I’ve become.

As the fiery liquid spills down my throat, movement at the door catches my attention.

My chest instantly goes tight, and so do my pants as a shot of blood causes my manhood to expand in size.

Jesus, who is that?

An absolute angel walks in, causing my heart to skip at least a couple beats before returning to its normal rhythm.

Is there an event going on tonight? Because this girl looks like she could be a brand model hired by some company to promote their product. No, she’s better than that. She belongs on the runways in Milan or Paris or stretched out on some billionaire’s yacht in the Maldives.

And on top of that, she can’t be more than twenty years old. Max.

She smiles shyly at the doorman, who grins back at her with a nod.

They know each other, and he’s letting her in without carding her. But they’re friends. She’s not using him. She’s not a bitch. Not the kind of girl to bleed a guy dry for favors or look for a sugar daddy. No, she’s not even aware of her beauty or how she could use it to get whatever she could ever want from men.

She’s wearing a pair of long black pencil jeans that accentuate the hell out of her legs that go all the way up to her wide, hourglass hips. Her thighs don’t meet in the middle, but leave a nice inviting gap between them that makes me think about one thing and one thing only…

Her top is short, showing off just a little bit of her tight, flat, tan stomach. It’s cute but cheap. She has taste but not money, and as she walks in her platform heels, I can tell she’s not accustomed to wearing them. But she wore them tonight to impress somebody, and that somebody is…

The guy behind her.

I can tell with one glance, in one second that he doesn’t deserve her. Instantly, my insides start burning as he puts a hand on her slim waist and guides her to an empty spot at the bar.

Son of a bitch.

Doesn’t she know she could do better?

Just the way he’s got his hands on her makes me want to go snap his fucking fingers off. I can tell by her body language that this is their first date, but he’s already taking liberties like he owns her. And she’s letting him too.

As they sit, he orders drinks without even asking her what she’d like. This annoys her, but she does a great job of hiding it. Only a subtle flicker of her eyelids gives it away, but her date is too blind to notice. His behavior reeks of one of those guys who’s watched too many red-pill videos online and is out to practice what he’s learned.

Her poker face is terrible. She is not enjoying herself, but her douchebag date is completely oblivious. He keeps working his game on her, sliding his stool closer and closer until finally he goes for broke and slips one leg between hers and puts a hand on her thigh.

I almost rocket out of my seat right then and there, rush over and yank him off his stool and slam him down onto the floor, but I watch as she reacts.

She reaches out like she’s going to grab his hand and pull it away, but at the last second she pulls back and brushes her hair uncomfortably.

“What’s the matter, baby?” I hear him say over the sounds of the crowd. “You getting cold on me?”

“No!” she replies, her voice as sweet as honey. “I—I’m not cold. Am I?”

Jesus. Even now she’s trying not to offend him.

That’s it. I can’t sit back and watch this shit any long. Leaving my drink, I get up from my chair and close the distance between us.

“Then what’s the problem?” the prick asks. “You said you weren’t looking for anything serious, right?”

His hand moves dangerously up her thigh, and the tightness in my chest grows. I may be a monster. I may have done some dirt in my day, but never to anyone who didn’t have it coming. And this girl is innocent.

“Yeah, I said that, but…”

“All right, then!” he laughs. “I bought you a drink, what more do you want?”

“Yeah, I…no, you’re right. You did buy me a drink, and that was nice, but I—”

Red begins to seep into the corner of my vision.

This ends now.

“I think she wants you to leave her alone,” I say, stepping right up to the bastard who thinks my angel belongs to him.

Her eyes move to mine first.

Jesus…

Her gaze is hypnotic.

Her innocence is beyond captivating.

The curves of her body are so dangerous. Up close, the smoothness of her skin calls to me, and I have to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. She doesn’t get dressed up like this often, or wear heels like that. But that’s fine. I wouldn’t give a damn if she wore sweatpants and a hoodie around me, just as long as she wore the heels in the bedroom…

Then there’s a flicker of recognition in her eyes.

She knows who I am.

“The fuck did you say to me?” her date asks. Obviously he does not.

“I—Josh,” she stammers. “It’s okay—”

“It’s okay? What do you mean it’s okay? Who the fuck does this guy think he is?”

My blood starts to boil as the fool rises from his stool and faces off with me. Under different circumstances, this would be a death sentence. But we’re in public. This isn’t business, and this dumb bastard doesn’t know who he’s messing with.

There’s also something I’d much rather do tonight than deal with disappearing his body.

“Listen, pal,” I say firmly under my breath. “Obviously you don’t know the snake trap you just stepped into, but I’m going to do you the biggest favor of your life and let you walk away right now with your life. You say one more word and I’m going to rescind that offer and you’re going to find yourself in a world of hurt you couldn’t possibly imagine.”

Thankfully, the dumb bastard isn’t as dumb as he looks or as he’s come off so far. He looks at me and then the beauty he never deserved to be with, then shakes his head in an attempt to save face and come off as the one in control here.

“You know what? I don’t need this shit.”

“You know what?” I reply. “You’re right. Now get lost.”

Still shaking his head, Josh slowly backs away. “I’m not paying for these,” he says, motioning to the drinks.

“Keep walking,” I tell him. I thank God that he does too. If he’d decided to stick around and play tough guy, things could have gotten really ugly. Once he’s gone, the gorgeous girl turns to me, her face flushed cherry red.

“Thank you—” she starts to say, but I cut her off instantly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I bark.

“I—what?” she stammers.

“A guy like that? I’ve been sitting over there for the last fifteen minutes watching him treat you like garbage and you’ve been letting him. What’s the matter with you?”

I’m burning inside thinking about how her night could have ended up if I hadn’t intervened. Would she have ended up going home with him? She couldn’t even tell him to take his degenerate hand off her perfect thigh, what was she going to do when he put a real move on her?

The image of him on top of her fills my mind and ignites my rage to a new level.

I’ve never felt this level of instant possessiveness over a woman ever, and I’ve been around more than my share of beauties.

Where is her sense of self-preservation? Where is her father? Who is looking out for her?

“What’s your name?” I ask her. I have to know. This girl is a beautiful mystery that I never could have prepared myself for.

“B-Bella…”

Brax and Bella. Perfection.

“Well, Bella, I’m Brax.”

“I know who you are,” she whimpers. “The Devil of Miami.”

I can feel it starting to dissipate…the cold that I’ve been encased in for so long. Just being this close to her is like standing by the flames of a roaring fire.

I’m going to have her. And that’s all there is to it.

“That’s right, Bella.” As I say her name, I feel myself do something I haven’t done in a long time. I smile. “I am the Devil of Miami. But you, Bella. You look like an angel to me.”

“I…I do?”

“That’s right, Bella,” I say, taking her hand in mine. So soft, so smooth. “And tonight, the devil needs his angel. You’re coming with me.”