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CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

作者: Daintyswot
last update 最終更新日: 2024-01-29 00:27:14

Genevieve had gone straight to her room, Max following behind her. It was night, but with the outdoor floodlights she could see giant puffs of snow drifting down in a steady pattern.

While she’d been at dinner, one of the servants had started a fire in the fireplace. Moments like this obscured reality as if she were visiting royalty instead of a prisoner.

But she was trapped inside a Christmas card. What could be wrong with that? What kind of idiot complained or felt sad about that? She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Clint to come blazing in to claim what was his, to make her pay with her body for all the kindnesses he’d bestowed. After all, she was his property, his ill-conceived early Christmas gift from his psychotic brother.

Max laid his head on her lap, and she absently stroked the soft, gold fur. He’d become her shadow these past few weeks, as if checking to make sure she was okay and then reporting back to his master with a daily status update. It had take
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  • THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST    CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

    Five months later Clint slept well and rose early to use the gym at his house before leaving for the office. He had several meetings this morning, both business and charitable affairs. He was overseeing the building of a state of the art residential centre for the disabled and it was very close to completion. He was very happy with it and looking forward to its opening.He was the first to arrive. He saw Rafalle come in behind him. Once they had all arrived he held a quick team meeting with the brokers, ensuring everything was running smoothly and he was up to speed. He opened Genevieve’s door. “How is your head today?”“Oh, much better, thank you.”“Good.” He left her to her work, no time for anything else, though it occupied his mind constantly. Genevieve was pleased he had come in, happy that things still seemed to be ok between them. She has kept her pregnancy from him because she had feared he wasn't ready , somehow he found out she was hiding something and he has been cold t

  • THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST    CHAPTER FORTY SIX

    Clint sat in his den with Raffalle over copious amounts of alcohol.“Well?”Since the previous day, he’d been a crazed lunatic, intent on revengeand blood and death for the bullets that had been meant for him but had hitthe woman he loved instead.“It was one of Dogan Hampster men. When I caught up to him, he wouldn’t talk.Brady and I had to overpower him and tie him down. It took hours before Igot the full story.”“And?”“You won’t like it. Beatrice told him what you did to Alva’shusband and how you were going to settle down with Genevieve and stop all business .”Clint paced the floor, regret and the weight of responsibility crushinghim. Beatrice should never have been at their family Christmas. But even so,if he hadn’t played with her, used her body and screwed with her mind, shemight not have gone to one of his business men set on instigating violence.“I know Beatrice is your best friend and you and Beatrice have history,but she’s a loose cannon. She’s da

  • THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST    CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

    Genevieve stood at the back of the rows of chairs with her veil in place, abouquet of white roses in her hands. The wedding was all white. Whitechairs. White flowers. White candles. A white runner on the ground for herto walk on. The only thing besides the tuxedos that weren’t white were theclothing of the guests and her bright red hair.The reception, by contrast, had been planned under large tents withJapanese lanterns and bright jewel tones. It reminded Genevieve of the Wizard ofOz where everything went from black and white to color, and it gave her thesmallest shred of hope that her life with Clint would be in color.Raffalle had offered to walk her down the aisle. He stood next to herlooking more like an aging bodyguard than a father figure.He leaned close to her ear. “I think you know a lot more about thisfamily than you should.” Her back went rigid. Raffalle was the type of man who would shootyou on any day of the year, be it your birthday, your graduati

  • THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST    CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

    Genevieve sat in front of a mirror in the many-windowed room in the eastwing. Her wedding veil lay before her on the vanity table.Alva hadoffered to help her get ready, but it was only a ruse to try to talk Genevieve out ofmarrying her Clint . It was anathema to her that Clint should be happy afterkilling her husband.“I know Clint is very charming, but you know what he did toElliott . What makes you think you’re safe with him?”As if Genevieve needed more things to fear. Though Clint hadn’t harmed her since that one night, it always existed as a possibility now.“Clint loves me,” she said. It hurt to say it because he’d never uttered the words, and she had no reason to believe it. But people assumedmarriage was about love, and if she didn’t speak in terms of romance and candy that his sister could relate to, someone might see through the whole ploy. And they were so close to the end.“Clint loves Clint .”Clint held back the urge to cry as Alva gave voice to her grea

  • THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST    CHAPTER FORTY THREE

    Clint’s erection had grown physically painful, but he’d gagged her andwasn’t ready to replace the gag with his cock yet. Tears streamed down herface as he laid down lines of welts across her ass with the cane. He neededto make her cry more. She had to earn her pleasure with tears. Enough timehad passed for that to be the price.The gag frightened her, still, which drove him harder to use it. She needn’t fear. He knew when enough was enough with her. He’d beencareful and exercised restraint. Each time the cane came down, she wincedin a way that both made him want to comfort her and hit her again to watchthat reaction… the intense expression of pain on her face, the tears that rolled down, and the lovely welt as it bloomed so quickly into those sharp red lines with the groove he loved to run his tongue along.He knew what the cane felt like. Though, used properly, it didn’t oftenbreak skin, the hard rap of a thin dowel of rattan or steel always left aprofound impress

  • THE MAFIA AND THE ARTIST    CHAPTER FORTY TWO

    Genevieve , did you know that a lot of what we call pain is about expectation? When you expect something to hurt a lot, and you tense allyour muscles, it hurts more. If you can relax and flow with it, it hurts less.Think of yourself like a stream flowing softly over rocks. The jagged edgesof the rocks don’t hurt the water, it just flows.” He allowed his voice to drop an octave as he spoke, becoming softer and less harsh, lulling her into a sense of safety.The music he’d selected fit well with the imagery he fed into her mind.He spoke quietly about water and flow and relaxing while he let his hands trail over her back, still wrapped in the warm cocoon of the blanket.He continued to speak as he went to the thermostat to raise it a couple of degrees. As the room warmed, he took the blanket away. She tensed, but not as much as before, so he poured some oil onto his hands to allow his skin to slide more easily against hers.He started at her neck, then worked down her back and

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