The Skull Ruler Read online

Page 21


  He killed the engine.

  “I love it. Can we get it?”

  He turned to me with a smile on his face. “You haven’t even seen the inside of it.”

  “I highly doubt that’s going to change anything. If it’s this beautiful on the outside, it’s got to be just as beautiful on the inside. And if there’s something I don’t like, it won’t be that difficult to change. What about the cost? Is it something you could afford…?” I didn’t know how to bring it up. I obviously couldn’t afford a place like this, so hopefully he could.

  He chuckled like I’d made a joke. “Baby, I can afford to buy anything your heart desires. We can have a house here and in every country in the world if you want.”

  “Well…I don’t think I need all of that.”

  He eyed the house before he turned back to me. “This house is yours if you want it. Anything is yours if you want it. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen. Anything at all.”

  “Alright…could we have sex on the kitchen counter?”

  His eyes widened slightly, like he hadn’t been expecting such a scandalous request. “Absolutely.”

  33

  Cassini

  Balto bought the house and got the keys.

  The place was officially ours.

  In the morning, Balto would begin moving my stuff to the new place. Everything we didn’t keep would be sold. And then the apartment would be put back on the market.

  For now, I lay in bed beside him in the middle of the night. My body was cuddled into his side even though it wasn’t the least bit cold. My fingers grazed over his hard chest, and I felt his distinct heartbeat, slow and powerful.

  My eyes were heavy with fatigue, but all I wanted to do was stare at this man, worship him while he slept. He returned to me on his knees and had become the man I’d always wanted him to be. He would be a wonderful father. And he would be a good man to me. I pressed my lips to his chest and placed soft kisses everywhere.

  He stirred slightly but didn’t open his eyes.

  I was so large with my pregnancy, throwing up every morning and feeling self-conscious about my swollen hands and feet. My body had changed so much, and I suspected it would never return to the way it used to be. But Balto made me feel more beautiful than I’d ever felt. He made me feel like the most desirable woman on the planet, like every woman should be jealous of my looks and curves. That’s what I appreciated about him the most, that he loved me even more than he had before. His love made him blind to my flaws. When everyone else saw rolls of fat, he only saw curves.

  I didn’t know what I’d done to capture his obsession, but I was so glad I’d earned it. I felt like I loved a man who was truly loyal to me, who would do anything for me without thinking twice about it. He would never hurt me, not the way other men had. He was my protector, and he would protect both of us for the rest of his life.

  He turned over and faced me. His eyes opened an instant later and looked into mine, a sleepy hint to his gaze. Instead of closing his eyes again and drifting back to sleep, he chose to stare at me instead.

  My hand glided across his chest as I held his gaze. “This is what I missed the most…sleeping with you. That was the hardest part about losing you…sleeping in that big bed alone.” I stared at his chest as I remembered the nights I’d cried myself to sleep.

  His hand moved under my chin and forced my eyes to meet his. “You’ll never sleep alone again. I promise.” His hand slid to my cheek, and his thumb brushed over my bottom lip. Sincerity shone in his eyes, like he was truly sorry for all the pain he caused. “I’m gonna be right here. Every day. Forever.” He wasn’t the kind of man that made promises, but he made one to me. His hand moved to my stomach, his favorite spot to touch.

  I placed my palm over his.

  “Baby.”

  My eyes lifted to his again.

  “Close your eyes.”

  I looked at the command written all over his face and did as I was told.

  He pulled his hand away, left the bed, and then returned a moment later. His weight shifted the mattress as his naked body returned to mine.

  I had no idea what was going on.

  I felt the chain around my neck disappear as he took it away. I kept my eyes closed, waiting until he gave me permission to open them again.

  Then I felt the cold metal against my finger as he placed a heavy ring on my left hand. He slid it until he reached the bottom of my finger. “Look at me.”

  I opened my eyes, my sight immediately going to my left hand. A skull diamond identical to his sat on my hand, the diamond so brilliant that it shone even in the darkness. It wasn’t a typical engagement ring, small and feminine. This was an extension of him, of his blackened soul.

  I looked at his left hand and noticed the ring I’d been wearing on the necklace. He normally wore it on his right hand, but now he wore it on his left, on his ring finger. The realization hit me in that moment, and my lungs immediately gasped for air.

  “I may not be the Skull King anymore, but I’m still the king of your heart. And you’re the queen of mine.” He grabbed my left hand and admired the enormous diamond that now graced my hand. “This is the part where I’m supposed to ask you to marry me. But I can’t do that because I don’t think I need to ask. I feel like we are already together, already man and wife. I’ve felt this way since the beginning, since the moment I laid eyes on you. You’ve always been mine, even when you belonged to someone else. I don’t want to ask because you’ve always been my queen—and I’ve always been your king.”

  I smiled through my tears, finding his gesture incredibly romantic. “Can I say yes anyway?”

  He looked at me with that intense gaze he’d been showing me since the night we met. Packed with possessiveness and passion, he regarded me like he wanted to fist the back of my hair and take me hard and deep.

  Our love wasn’t just romantic and respectful. It was full of passion, heat, and combustible desire. It had everything I wanted in a deeply sensual relationship, and it exceeded every dream I’d ever had about romance. He wasn’t quite the man I’d once pictured, this man who killed men without blinking an eye, but he had the kind of heart that I wanted, so big but so empty. And he only wanted one person to be inside it.

  He moved me to my back and maneuvered between my legs, his hard dick telling me exactly what he wanted. He always responded to my enthusiasm, always got hard when I wore my heart on my sleeve. His hands clutched mine against the sheets, and he held his mouth just inches from mine. “You better say yes.”

  Epilogue

  Cassini

  I went into the house to retrieve the silverware I’d forgotten to put out on the table on the patio, but once I got to the kitchen, I gripped the counter and breathed through the fatigue. This pregnancy was killing me. My feet hurt all the time, my back was aching, but I knew it was worth it.

  Because I was having twins.

  I clutched the counter for a moment as I let the pain pass. I’d just hit my seventh month of pregnancy, and that was when things had started to get difficult with our first baby. The morning sickness intensified, and I couldn’t get any sleep. I ended up napping around the house randomly throughout the day whenever I could.

  Balto came in the back door behind me. He recognized I was in distress because he came to my side right away. His hand moved over my stomach, and he supported my back with his hand. “Baby, only a few more months to go.”

  I ground my teeth together. “I’m not having any more of your babies.”

  He smiled as he rubbed my stomach. “You say that now…”

  “I’m serious.”

  “You’ll feel differently the second you look outside and see your son admiring his birthday cake. Now we have two little girls coming, and they’ll grow up to be beautiful and smart like you.”

  “I don’t know about that… I did marry you.”

  “And that was the smartest decision you ever made.” He kissed my temple then grabbed the f
orks out of the drawer. “Hold these.”

  I held them in my fist.

  He lifted me up and carried me out of the kitchen and onto the back patio.

  “I can walk.”

  “Or I carry you.” He carried me across the grass and to the gazebo where everyone was gathered.

  “It’s your son’s birthday party, and you’re being lazy?” Case teased, sitting next to Balto Jr. in his high chair. A party hat was on his head, and he already had food stains all over his special outfit.

  Balto lowered me to the ground so I could sit in the chair next to our son. “I’m not lazy. I’m just enormous.”

  “Not enormous,” Balto said. “You’re sexier now than you were the first time.”

  Dirk made a disgusted face. “Saying my sister is sexy is like saying a squirrel is sexy…”

  “Then I guess I think squirrels are sexy.” Balto grabbed one of the cupcakes and lit the single candle on top. “My little boy turns one today. Crazy how time flies.”

  Heath moved into the chair beside him. “And crazy that you’re going to have twin girls running around. Too bad twins run in the family, right?” He nudged him in the side, the third skull diamond sitting on his right hand.

  “I can handle it.” He placed the cupcake on the table in front of Balto. “Alright, little man. Blow out the candle.”

  He tried to sink his fingers into the frosting so he could wipe it all over his face.

  I grabbed his hand. “Balto, blow.”

  He giggled then jabbed his fingers into the cupcake.

  “Alright, maybe next year you’ll get a wish.” I grabbed the cupcake and blew out the candle before I handed it back to him.

  He started to demolish it, getting frosting all over his cheeks and even some on his eyelid.

  My son was loud, hyper, and so messy, but I loved him with all my heart. He had Balto’s striking blue eyes and fair complexion. Once he hit his teen years, he would probably start to look just like his father. Then when he became a man…the women would be dying to sink their claws into him.

  I already dreaded that day.

  I grabbed the napkin and cleaned up his face even though he still had half a cupcake to eat. “Messy boy.”

  “He gets it from you,” Case teased.

  “When you have kids, I’m turning them against you,” I warned.

  “They’ll hate you, so I doubt that’s possible,” Case responded.

  Heath spoke to Balto, talking to him about enrolling Balto Jr. in football.

  But Balto didn’t seem to be listening. He watched his son with the same focused attention he used to only give me. A slight smile was on his lips, and there was a glow in his eyes, a fatherly pride even though Balto Jr. had done nothing particular to be proud of. Transfixed, he looked at the miniature version of himself like he couldn’t love anyone more.

  Not even me.

  It was hard to believe this was our reality now, not when it was so hard for Balto to be anything but a stone-cold killer. Now he was a wonderful husband to me and an even better father. He loved our son so much. It was written on his face every single day.

  And it made me love him even more.

  Also by Penelope Sky

  Chapter One

  Maverick

  As a young boy, I used to stand in this very spot.

  Right in the doorway, neither in the bedroom or outside it, I used to blend in with the shadows and stare at my father’s back. He’d been taller than me most of my life, so I looked up to him—literally.

  He always had the same routine as he stood in front of his vanity. First, he folded his sleeves back and buttoned them. Then the cuff links were added—one of the many pairs he owned. My mother always gifted him a new set on his birthday, finding something sleek he would be proud to wear.

  Once the cuff links were secured, he pulled the watch onto his wrist. White gold and flashy, it contrasted against the dark colors he usually wore. His suits were always black or blue, never tan or silver. His change in wardrobe seemed to occur after the worst day of his life came to pass.

  His silver wedding ring sat on the vanity where it’d been every day for a year. He always stared at it for a long time, as if he were considering putting it on again.

  When I was a child, it was something he never put on—because he’d always been wearing it.

  But now he didn’t know what to do with it.

  He straightened in front of the mirror and admired himself, his shirt still tight on his muscular arms. Sunlight had made his skin tanned and slightly weathered like worn-out leather, but he still possessed the resilience of a young man. Veins stretched from the tops of his hands and up his arms, protruding from the tight skin. He was tall, a mountain in my eyes, but he’d shrunk down as gravity worked against him all these decades.

  Now I was taller than him.

  Stronger than him.

  But not smarter than him.

  Our lives had never been the same since that terrible day one year ago.

  We had never been the same.

  He lifted his gaze and met mine in the mirror. “Yes?”

  When I was a child, he never noticed me because I was too short. But I was a man now…and I’d been a man a long time. Made in his likeness, I possessed his strength, his might. And unfortunately, I inherited all of his flaws—his coldness and his cruelty.

  His deep voice reverberated against the wall, filling every room in the old castle like he was the original king who’d ruled it centuries ago. Life hadn’t been kind to him, so he’d gradually darkened like the stone that comprised the walls of this enormous keep. It’d been the perfect playground for a family of four. But now that he was just a man of one…it was a large coffin.

  I stepped out of the darkness of the hallway and entered his bedroom, the air reeking of solitude. I could feel the loneliness he never showed, feels the tears he never shed. “You asked for me.” Like a good son, I obeyed my father even as a grown man. His lack of affection always disappointed me, but I respected him all the same.

  After his watch was secured, he rolled down his sleeves and eyed his wedding ring once again, as if he were tempted to put it on and travel back in time, to fix the mistakes it was too late to correct.

  He turned around, his chin up and his shoulders strong. “I have a meeting—and you’re coming with me.”

  ***

  The car stopped at the black iron gates, an image of a stallion carved into the bars. Once the security detail allowed us through, we drove up the gravel and approached the three-story estate that sat on prime Tuscan land. Summer was just around the corner, so dusk came late. It was almost eight o’clock, and the sky was still tinted with hues of pink and purple.

  The car circled the large fountain in the center, and I admired the ancient cobblestone that made up the walls of the mansion. With curved archways for the windows and ivy that grew up along the sides, it was clearly a family legacy. Homes like this were passed down through generations, starting with ancient ancestral royalty until the present time. It was unlikely this property had been purchased in the last five years.

  I titled my face toward my father, keeping my eyes on our surroundings at the same time. “What are we doing here?”

  My father glanced at his watch. “Your guess is as good as mine.” His door was opened, and he stepped out.

  I got out as well, and we were escorted inside, entering an enormous archway with a stunning chandelier. Artwork from the 1800s was on the walls, mostly landscapes of lilies and ponds.

  The men guided us farther inside, bringing us into an enormous dining room lined with more historical paintings and sculptures. I’d grown up with money, so I knew what different levels existed. My family made their fortune through legal and illegal means. But judging from this magnitude, this family was aristocracy.

  We sat down at the long table, a table that could easily seat fifty people for dinner.

  I couldn’t even name fifty people that I liked.

&nb
sp; The men left the room.

  My father sat at the head of the table. With a perfectly straight back and an aggressive nature, he was ready for whatever this meeting would involve.

  I was still in the dark about everything. This could be a new client. This could be an enemy. This could be a friend. I really had no idea. “Who are we meeting?” My voice was minimized by the size of the room, the high ceilings that held several chandeliers. Instead of windows showing the outside world, it was just painting after painting.

  “Martin Chatel.” My father continued to stare straight ahead, his fingers resting on the mahogany of the table. As if he were the one who had called the meeting, he sat with perfect poise, still as a statue.

  Chatel. I recognized the family name.

  French.

  They had family relations all over Europe, a bloodline that traced back through kings. The wealth displayed on every wall had been respectfully inherited through superiority. My father was no longer in the criminal hemisphere, so I had no idea what our purpose was tonight. Unless he’d had a change of heart? “And why are we here?”

  “Martin said he had an offer I wouldn’t refuse.”

  I didn’t ask any more questions, knowing my father’s patience for talking had officially expired. My eyes moved to a painting on the wall, a portrait that stood out from all the others because it clearly didn’t belong there. Displaying a modern hand and new paint, it was a piece of art created recently, not hundreds of years ago. A young woman with brown hair the same color as this rich table sat in front of a dressing room mirror, gazing at her reflection as she prepared for whatever production she was about to perform. A brush was on the table, along with makeup supplies. She wore a tight dress and a diamond necklace. She was young, with rosy cheeks, painted lips, and eyes so blue, they were each their own ocean. She looked directly into the mirror, directly into the admirer of the piece. She seemed intelligent but innately innocent. She seemed kind but also callous.