The Skull King: Skull #1 Page 5

  He had balls, trying to negotiate with me. But I respected a man with a sac. “Fifteen.”

  A week had come and gone, but I didn’t hear from Cassini.

  I expected her to call me when the sex with her husband became too unbearable and she needed a fix. I expected her to cave when the memory of us turned stale and she couldn’t get off to it anymore. I expected her to call me when she wanted a new memory, a memory that would give her a climax so profound, it would make up for the misery she’d experienced over the last several weeks.

  I was confident she would call—eventually.

  I sat on my throne at the Underground, drinking scotch on the rocks while I watched all the men gather for the auction. All rich and powerful men with specific tastes in domination and torture, they were disgusting bastards. But they paid top dollar for a beautiful woman with a rich father. Every Friday night, we cleaned up with almost two hundred million.

  Not a bad way to make a living.

  I liked to pay for sex. It was less complicated that way. I paid them handsomely and told them exactly what I wanted. There was no foreplay or dinner. If I wanted to fuck them in the ass, I just threw down the cash and opened the lube. If I wanted to chain them up and whip them until their cheeks turned red, it only cost money. But I’d never paid for a slave before. It wasn’t because I was a moral man. I was the biggest deviant in this place. I just didn’t like the idea of being stuck with one woman for so long. Sounded like a waste of money.

  Jerome walked up the steps to my chair. “Want to check out the girls before the show starts?”

  I finished the rest of my drink before I set it on the table. Ruth, the topless waitress, snatched it right away and replaced it with a new one even though I was about to walk away. I joined Jerome in the back—where the naked, handcuffed girls fought back tears.

  Trafficking was one of our biggest industries. Our patrons paid astronomical sums for a beautiful woman to keep as a pet. We’d been doing it for decades, long before we made our living just killing people. Now we’d expanded into every realm of business possible.

  I took a look at each girl, deeming them worthy of the auction. Some were crying, but I was immune to their tears. I was a man without a heart or a soul. All I had was a body with booze in my stomach. I moved farther down the line until I locked eyes with a girl with deep brown hair. She was shorter than the others, and judging by her frame and figure, she wasn’t as old as the rest of the lineup. “Jerome, how old is she?”

  “Sixteen.”

  I turned to him, wearing a look so terrifying I could see the fear in his eyes. “What did I say?”

  “She looks eighteen.”

  “She doesn’t look eighteen. And it doesn’t matter even if she does. I said no girls under eighteen.”

  “The men like it—”

  “I don’t give a shit. It’s fucking gross. Jesus Christ, she’s a child.”

  Jerome stared me down. “I thought you didn’t have any lines, Balto.”

  I didn’t have any lines. I was the most corrupt criminal in Italy. There was no crime too foul for me. “I don’t. But this is disgusting.”

  “You want me to kill her, then?”

  The girl probably preferred death over being a slave. “Return her to wherever the fuck she came from.”

  “But she knows our faces. She knows where we are.”

  “Trust me, this girl is too scared to say anything. She’s pissed herself while we’ve been talking—twice. Get her out of the lineup. And don’t let this shit ever happen again.”

  I sat at the table in the private room of the prison. The table was screwed into the ground so it couldn’t move, and the metal bar attached to the surface was a secure place to hook up the handcuffs. I waited ten minutes before they finally brought him in.

  Wearing a ridiculous orange jumpsuit, he had chains around his wrists and his ankles. The guards escorted him to the chair and removed his handcuffs so they could secure him to the metal bar on the surface of the table. The chains around his ankles were hooked to the floor. Then the guards walked out and shut the door behind them.

  We were given complete privacy—something the other prisoners didn’t have.

  Heath pulled his wrists and yanked on the chains. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “A bit.”

  He sighed as he looked at me, his blue eyes full of malice. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Most of his body was covered by the orange jumpsuit, but his strong physique was clear. He’d been working out a lot in his cell. It was obvious by the way the clothing fit him so snugly. “You look ripped.”

  “I’ve got nothing else to do but work out and jerk off.”

  “Haven’t found a partner?” I teased.

  Heath narrowed his eyes until they were slits. “I’m going to kill you when I get out of here.”

  “I’m your only chance of getting out of here, so I doubt that.” I had control over the police and the prisoners. Heath was in here because I’d put him in here—to teach him a lesson. “Are you done being in time-out?”

  He pulled on his chains again, like there was a possibility he could break free.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “What the fuck do you want from me, asshole?” He had skin the color of pale snow and eyes the color of a shallow bay, and his soft features fit into an innately hard face. His beard was thick from not shaving, and the cords in his neck were thickening with his rage. He had my same height and muscularity, and he also had my same temperament.

  “I want you to cut all the bullshit, Heath. Robbing banks and stealing cars is so amateur.”

  “It pays the bills.”

  “It’s pussy shit.”

  He tested the chains again.

  “You’re better than that. Join the Skull Kings. I will find something for you.”

  “So I can be your little bitch?” he asked incredulously.

  “So I can straighten you out. You can’t go around starting shit with everyone you see. I can’t make excuses for you to my allies, and I can’t protect you from my enemies. You’re a loose cannon. Join me or continue to rot in here.”

  “And what if I don’t want to do either?”

  “What is your other option? You’re going to make an honest living?” Heath was incapable of settling down in one place and being an honest man. He’d been a criminal just like me since the day we were born. He was just more temperamental, emotional, and uncontrollable. Once he got an idea in his head, he pursued it to no end, regardless of how stupid the idea was. He was like a dog off a leash—sprinting right into traffic.

  “I want freedom. I’m not going to take orders from you.”

  “I’m the Skull King—everyone takes orders from me.”

  “Well, I’m not going to.”

  “Then you’d rather rot in here?” I asked in disbelief. “You’d rather have your hand than pussy? You’d rather eat the shit they serve than a traditional Italian meal? What about scotch? You used to drink that every morning for breakfast. You don’t miss all those things?”

  “Of course, I miss all those things. But I miss pussy most of all.”

  “Then get your shit together, asshole.”

  He turned his gaze to the side, staring out the small window that was close to the ceiling. It was the only form of sunlight he got to see. The rest of the prison was nothing but fluorescent light and darkness.

  I watched him with pity, knowing he deserved a better life than the one I’d condemned him to. “Heath, I’m trying to help you. I don’t want you to be killed then chained down to the bottom of the ocean.”

  “I’ve always wanted to be buried at sea.”

  I ignored the morbid joke. “I’m serious.”

  “I know you are, Balto.” He turned his gaze back to me, his eyes cloudy from being locked up in this place.

  “I know prison has changed you even though you act like it hasn’
t. I know you’re eager to get out of here and not get thrown back in. I’m willing to give this a try because I think you’re ready. But don’t fuck with me, Heath. I mean it. You’re only getting this opportunity because you’re my brother.”

  He stared at me with the same ice-cold expression. “No. I’m only getting this opportunity because I’m your twin.”

  7

  Cassini

  When two weeks came and went, the high from my night with Balto wore off. I couldn’t remember the way he smelled, and the memory of his kiss even started to fade away. The stale memory didn’t make me forget him easily, but it made me want to make new memories instead. Now I missed my freedom more than ever before. I didn’t want anything from Balto but his body, but I couldn’t even have that.

  I was stuck in a prison.

  I tried to remind myself there were worse men in the world to be married to, but Lucian was still a bottom-feeder. He had deals take place at the house, and whenever they went wrong, he didn’t hesitate before he executed people on the front lawn. I might have been more scared if I’d had something to live for. Right now, I was just getting through every day with painful slowness. There was nothing to look forward to, nothing to be excited about.

  When I had to let Lucian fuck me, I always pretended Balto was the one in between my legs. My imagination was weak in the beginning, but now I’d gotten so good at it, sometimes, it seemed like he might actually be there. It worked enough to make me wet so we didn’t need lube, and occasionally it would even bring me to a climax. It was a weak orgasm, weaker than the ones I gave myself with my hand, but at least it didn’t make sex completely pointless.

  When Lucian finished, he cleaned off in the bathroom then made himself a drink.

  We slept in different bedrooms, so I didn’t lie in the sweaty sheets for long. I stood up and gathered my clothes off the ground.

  * * *

  He poured two glasses of wine. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I stilled at the odd question. “To bed. Aren’t you?”

  He carried the two glasses back to bed. “Stay with me.” While he phrased it like a suggestion, I knew it was anything but a recommendation. It was a direct order, and if I disobeyed, there would be consequences.

  Living with him for so long taught me all of his moods. I could read him like a book and mastered my interactions with him. I had it down to a science so I could avoid arguments, fights, and even slaps to the face. Lucian didn’t beat me like some men beat their wives, but he wouldn’t be afraid to strike me if I got out of line.

  So I left my clothes on the floor and got back into bed.

  He handed me the glass then clinked his against mine. “To living life to the fullest.”

  That was a toast I couldn’t drink to. I watched him drink his wine, but I didn’t take a sip. My life was slowly passing me by, and I was eager for the end—even though I had a long road ahead.

  He licked his lips then stared at me, propped on one arm. “What did you do today?”

  “Read by the pool.”

  His fingers slid over my wrist. “Your tan looks lovely.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I had business all day. I’ve created a new prototype, and somehow, word got out. I’ve got bids going, and the auction isn’t even open yet.”

  I couldn’t care less about Lucian’s work. He was a brilliant engineer who made weapons of mass destruction. He was selective on who he sold his work to, profiting billions of dollars for his transactions because his commodities were so inaccessible. I didn’t approve of criminal activity in any form, but I particularly despised Lucian’s line of work. He created weapons that could easily destroy us all. I didn’t know how to respond to this boring information, so I sipped my wine.

  His hand moved into my hair, and he gently tucked it back, showing me a level of affection he rarely displayed. When he wanted sex from me, he was right to the point. He never gave me tender embraces. He fucked me like a machine rather than a person. He squirted the lube onto his length and went to town. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  My eyes flew to his face, surprised by the sweet statement. Just three weeks ago, he’d told me I was gaining too much weight. Now I was beautiful…sipping wine in his bed.

  He leaned in and kissed the corner of my mouth.

  Something else he’d never done before.

  I had no idea what to make of it.

  He took a drink of his wine then set it on the nightstand. Then he moved on top of me and kissed me everywhere, kissing the skin of my tits before he grabbed my glass of wine and slightly tipped it so it would splash all over me.

  He licked the drops away and tasted me everywhere.

  I lay back and let him do whatever he wanted, but I was still surprised by what was happening. He’d never been affectionate, slow, or seductive. And I think I hated this more than when he fucked me and got it over with.

  But I had to lie there and take it.

  When I woke up the next morning, there was a rose on the bed where he’d slept. A note had been left behind.

  * * *

  Beautiful,

  Join me for breakfast.

  * * *

  We rarely spent time together. We only had sex, exchanged a few words here and there, and then I stayed out of his way. Now he was paying so much attention to me, and I had no idea why.

  I put on my robe and joined him in the main dining room, where the summer sun filtered through the windows. I took a seat across from him, and he looked me over with approval, as if he liked the way I looked in my robe. “Morning, Lucian,” I said, being the polite wife I was supposed to be.

  “Morning, Beautiful.”

  There it was again, that nickname. He’d never called me anything but Cassini since I became his property. It was the kind of nickname he used on his whores, not his wife.

  He poured me a cup of coffee then sipped his own.

  I had no idea what to say to the man. We had nothing in common, not a single thing. The only thing we did together was screw, and I took it like I was supposed to. What would we have to discuss over breakfast?

  “After breakfast, I thought we could take a drive to Siena. Do some shopping and have lunch.”

  What the fuck? “Why?” I blurted out the question without tact, the word coming out crass and harsh. But he’d never asked me to do anything, at least not just the two of us. The only time he took me out was for public events, when he wanted to show off the wife he’d acquired.

  He was about to sip his coffee again, but instead lowered his cup. “What do you mean why?” he asked, his tone darkening.

  “I just assumed you had work… You always have work.”

  He shrugged. “It can wait.”

  I’d rather it not wait. I liked having the house to myself while he was gone. I liked pretending that he didn’t exist at all until he walked in the door later that night. I retracted my coldness. “Good…you work too much.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “I do.”

  I ate my breakfast and felt the weight in the pit of my stomach. I had to spend the entire day with a man I despised. Our marriage was bearable because we never spent any time together. Now I would have to spend the whole afternoon with him. We didn’t have anything to talk about now, so what would we talk about then? “You seem different, Lucian. May I ask why?” Something had come over Lucian and turned him into a different man. Weeks ago, he was cold and callous, but lately, he’d been soft, kind, and affectionate. That sweetness had escalated until he resembled a stranger.

  “I just thought I should spend more time with my wife.”

  Couldn’t he spend more time with one of his whores?

  “Lately…it’s different.” He dropped two cubes of sugar into his coffee and stirred the contents.

  “What’s different?”

  “Us.”

  Not as far as I could tell. We were exactly the same. I still despised him, and he was borderline indifferent to me. As
with his gun collection and his jewel collection, all he cared about was collecting valuable things. I was another relic to add to his display—except I was an actual person.

  “When we’re together…you want me.” He lifted his gaze and looked me in the eye.

  I had no idea what he was talking about. Did he mean now? Did he mean when we had sex? That couldn’t be it because I practically recoiled at his touch.

  “You’re so wet, so enthused. They say it takes a while for marriage to find its footing…and maybe we’ve found ours.” He stirred his coffee again then took a sip.

  The horror washed over me when I realized what had happened. All those times when Lucian had screwed me lately, I had been fantasizing about the man I really wanted. I was thinking of Balto, the sexy man I’d met at the bar. I was thinking of his perfect body, his big dick, and the sexy way he kissed me. I’d focused my thoughts so hard that my body actually became slick and I tightened around Lucian like he was the man I was pretending to be fucking. But he’d misinterpreted all of that…and thought I was enjoying him.

  Shit.

  The staff carried Lucian’s suitcases to the car waiting in the driveway. In his slacks and collared shirt, he was ready to leave for the weekend to travel to France, where he would be holding a meeting with some potential clients. He traveled a lot to network with the right people. Getting the correct components for his explosives was much harder than people realized. That was why his weapons were so pricey—because they took so much time and effort to make.

  I walked him to the driveway to see him off—because he’d asked me to.

  “I’ll be back on Monday, Beautiful.” He turned around and faced me, standing at my height. I was only five seven, so his height wasn’t impressive. Balto had to be at least six three. He’d towered over me even when he was sitting on the stool.

  “Be safe.” I didn’t know what else to say. Our relationship had changed, and now he expected me to care when he came and went. The worst thing I could do was tell him off because he had the power to make my life a living hell. If I didn’t satisfy him, he could stop my visits to my brothers, take away my car and allowance, and snatch back my freedom. It was easier just to cooperate than risk losing all the things that made my life worth living.