“I can’t save everyone. There. I said it. I, Jaenelle Kenya DeLuca, have admitted to the fact that I can’t save everybody. I can’t be the Jesus of modern day culture because I myself need saving as well. I have a placation. He’s a tall, curly-haired and handsome devil whom I owe my entire life to and will continue bearing him a lot of children until he decides a limit for my bearings. He is also incredibly beautiful and is the proud father of our two daughters - Isabella and Annabella. I made a grave mistake by embarking on this case and I will now refrain from betraying him again. There, are you happy now?”
Mason places the video camera onto the granite path and gestures my bra to come off, freeing my sensitive swells from this abomination and allowing them to be welcomed by the soothing hot water, “Now I want you to say it in Italian --”
“Okay! I get it! I’m royally and terribly screwed and there’s nothing I can do about it other than having you for protection.”
Mason brushes his wet ringlets back and licks his lips before meshing our two bare chests against one another. Being in this close contact with him ignites rapid feelings and I know that they should be hard as two marble beads by now. Instinctively, my arms wrap around his broad shoulders and I nuzzle my nose into the crook of his neck.
The flash drives we got were recorded coital rendezvous with the men Germaul shed information upon and the shock of seeing my sister engage in such acts brought upon slight contractions. Dr. Luciano advised me to have at least two Jacuzzi baths every two days and a lot of coital release in order to calm myself down.
The early contractions of my six month old belly weren’t the worst thing to have ever happened to me. No, I had something way worst lined up and I nearly lost a finger. I scouted out the men one by one and tracked their dealings to help with my case. Kang Yho busted me after noticing that my face appeared almost everywhere he went and I was kept in a dingy, grim-filled cell but, with my dignity still intact.
That was when dark and dangerous Mason DeLuca came out. A switchblade was hovering one of my metacarpal bones, ready to dice my finger right off when Mason came to the rescue. My rings - surprise surprise - had a tracker and he found me in a record time. Swiftly, he fired bullets at Kang Yho’s goons, including his translator and left the best for last. With ease, he slid behind Kang Yho and twisted his neck so harshly all the disgusting food they made me keep down just left my stomach.
I was saved and all had a bruise on my neck to provide as evidence for such an event.
I don’t want...I never want to return to such a place ever again and I’m lucky they didn’t choose to degrade me as a female. Heavens, it took me two weeks to get over what had happened and even so, I never leave Mason’s side unless I need to go to the bathroom.
“Hey...” Mason calls out soothingly, his lips on my shoulder “I’m here, micio. You’re a DeLuca now and we harm whoever harms one of us.” He slides his hand onto my tender female swells and squeezes softly “finally, I have two joysticks to play with.”
The hot water was coaxing me into bliss, tag teaming Mason’s sinful touch and devilish lips. His lips find mine, my thoughts completely scattering into various areas and I open my eyes to find his gazing at me in awe.
“Can I reward my temptress with a kiss underwater?”
Kiss underwater? When last did I do that? Probably while I was still a teenager and Aiden and I were passing time.
Mason reaches across to the panel and brings the heat down by a notch before bringing his moist full lips on mine. The squeezing persists and that only aroused more excitement from the pit of my stomach.
“Now, mia moglie, may I get my kiss?”
“My hair will get wet Mason,” I groan lowly while brushing my lips on his neck to catch the water droplets - an action that made Mason instantly weak “you do know how long it takes me to dry this hair, right?”
Mason chuckles darkly from the depth of his throat and presses his lips on the crown on my head soothingly, “I’m talking about your other lips.”
My...my other lips?
Mason sinks into the water slowly, diving down with a deep gulp of air and he places my legs onto his shoulders before...
Oh my fúcking - I don’t know whether I should thank God or Jesus first for bringing such a wonderful man into my life!
We’re beyond nervous. Erratic tapping feet, constant sighs and occasional groans, you can name it all. Isn’t it ridiculous that a ruthless mafia king and his criminal forensic investigator wife are extremely nervous about picking out their children’s necessities at a nearby baby boom store? Best you believe it because we were beyond anxious.
I’ve dealt with ruthless people, gory sights and unbearable cases meanwhile Mason has killed those ruthless people, created those gory sights and is the secret number one suspect in all of my unbearable cases. This...picking out baby necessities should be a walk in the park yet Mason and I are too apprehensive to even think of the colour coordination we needed to choose.
My hand slips into his, the colour and size contrast of our hold igniting something deep with my body and none of us could hide our smiles from each other. With each passing minute it felt like we were growing stronger, mightier and I brewed my love for him than I ever had for anyone else in my entire life.
“Should we go with this?” Mason holds up a lime green baby grower with the most adorable look of confusion on his face. I scan the piece of clothing before practically realizing the grave mistakes he made.
“Giuseppe, those are too large for newborns...and there are two of them.”
Mason scrunches his nose and pinches his brows in more confusion, “they have aisles for newborns here?”
Oh my...Mason and I are utterly screwed.
“Should we ask for help?” I ask Mason quietly but being the stubborn bastard he is, Mr. DeLuca shakes his head quickly “Mason - it’s obvious that we’re not doing a knockout job at this so rather we get help.”
“No. I want to do this for my daug-children and I’m sure we won’t mess up any further than we have right about now. Micio, as husband and wife we shall embark on this conquest to buy our two children their clothing and other basic needs.”
My cheeks heat up at his use of the English language - Nope! Can’t afford two hard pebbles right now. “Or...or we could wait until after they’re born?”
Mason’s lips twitch into a stunning smirk and I smile adoringly at the sight, “that would be fantastic, mia moglie. Now come, I’m sure you’re feeling famished.”
I love the articulacy and pronunciation of his words, “you’re so hot when you speak all posh like, papi.”
Hand in hand, Mason and I drop the items we had assumed would be fit for Mickey and Micah before lurching out of the exclusive store close to our matrimonial home. My phone buzzes in my handbag and I press my lips on Mason’s flesh quickly before excusing myself to attend to the call.
: x One Missed Call
This was utterly stupid and missing the call of an unknown number infuriated me beyond what is acceptable for this pregnancy. I find myself stopping in my steps in order to retrieve air for self-pacification until I see funny grey shoes stop right next to my swollen sandal-clad feet. Odd, Mason was wearing his black Timberlands when we left for -
There was only one man I knew who owned the exact same pair of shoes and he was a man I would never associate myself with.
Slowly, I bring my gaze up to him and find dark, broody steel eyes sizing me down. That was when my surroundings hit me with a wrecking ball. Mason’s slumped figure was held by Daniel Charles’ goons and he seemed knocked out really bad by what seems to be chloroform. He didn’t make a sound so they must’ve got him from behind and took him out.
Daniel Charles was a ruthless man whom I also took notes on a few weeks ago. He was built; lean but his obvious potent masculinity could asphyxiate one into utter submission. His hair was slicked back, a large scar featuring the left side of his face and his eyes were cold, freezing steel.
My lips part open but no sound could leave them once a harsh fist was thrown against my cheek; I saw the blinding white light instantaneously. The pain was excruciating and all I could do was make sure my bump was protected before allowing darkness to coax my body.
The reverence of my body seeps from me like water would leave a sponge. Years and years of training this incompetent vessel but it failed to withstand the crucial fumes of chloroform. Beatings, stab wounds and a few gun shuts have never been able to take me down yet chloroform could walk to the stand and grab the fúcking trophy.
My wife? Where the fúck is my wife?
My eyes snap open instantly and that’s when I was thrust into utter bewilderment. I seemed to be in an old abandoned warehouse, the weathered planks were an absolute giveaway, and the centre of the place boasted a large see-through water tank.
Where the fúck is Jaenelle?
Acting on absolute alpha male energy I jut forward, only to find that my limps have been bound together by hardware wire that slices into your flesh the more you fight against it. I was without a scratch, my body and face bruise-free but I did have a slight throb at the back of my head. A thin film of sweat coats my forehead, an obvious indication of my brawl with the restrains, and I release a long exhale.
“Ah, prince charming is finally awake.”
That accent. That voice. It was all too familiar and I’ll be damned if it’s whom I think it’s is.
The devil himself stalks in front of me and cracks me a crude smile, “Will you look at that? He is just so flawless from his well-deserved slumber.”
I bare him my teeth, my eyes ablaze and I was ready to pounce on him right this minute, “Where the fúck is my wife?”
Daniel holds his chest in mock-hurt, “calm down, sonny. This is not a werewolf book and with three continuous visits to the dentist I’m sure my teeth will look like yours.”
His sweet tone was making me sick right to the gut, hell I was ready to throw up the delicious breakfast my wife made for me this morning. That only inveigles the void where my wife owns an entire share of to widen and I don’t take things too kindly when what’s mine is taken away from me.
I need my micio.
“My. Wife. Give. Her. To. Me.”
Daniel cranes his neck, his head tilting to a different angle as if to mock-study my sudden thunderous expression and he pouts, “at least allow my boys a few minutes with the pretty thing, her lisp is the most gorgeous thing about her...after her arse though.”
Red. I saw motherfúcking red and I had a lucid thirst for his blood on my hands. The wires were slicing right though my tissue but I didn’t care.
The beast in me pounces out, “If you did as much as to stare at her for too long --”
"What?” Daniel chuckles lowly “you’ll kill me? You’re as good as a paraplegic athlete and we both know they never go far in life after killing their girlfriends on Valentine’s Day --”
A thick line of phlegm lands on the corner of his fúcked up shoes, ”Fúck. You.”
Daniel sighs heavily and rolls his eyes, obviously he hated the sight of any excretory agent on his fugly shoes, “Boys, bring her in!”
A large sound fills the whole warehouse as a tattered crane rolls inside, crushing anything within its sight. With ease, it halts before the water tank and it’s not long until I realize something white was dangling from the crane’s hook.
Dangling? Why would something dangle -
“Drop her in boys!” he releases an exasperated exhale “These bloody niggers have been polluting America ever since that stupid Book of Negros!”
A harsh splash hauls me into reality and I hear the painful screams of my wife, her whole body seized together by dark rope and she tried to squirm - why in the fúcking hell am I explaining this bloody situation whereas my wife is fighting for her life!
The memories I have shared and still yet to share with that gorgeous woman pierce my mind intensively, “What do you fúcking want? Free my fucking wife! Free her right now and I’ll do whatever it is that you want!” her scream lose volume as the seconds tricked by and that’s when I panic “she’s pregnant! I’ll give you whatever you bloody want!”
Daniel smirks coldly and shifts his attention to the crane, “bring her up!”
The crane coughs into ignition and Jaenelle is hauled out of the water, her body exposed due to the fact that her dress was sliced halfway to her belly. Is this what it feels like? Hurt? Is this what it feels like? Like an unmerciful hand has your heart in its clutches and its squeezing continuously, evoking more hurt from your side?
“I want your empire. I want the case your wife is working on to disappear. Also, I want the approval for that infant growing inside of your wife to be cut out and to grow as my own.”
Jae isn’t moving, Jaenelle DeLuca isn’t bloody moving...My wife is not fúcking moving! Something acidic lands on my face and its foreign. Some of it drops on my lips and it’s salty...it’s salty and hot. Almost as if...I’m crying.
“Tears won’t save you now, boyo.” Daniel grimaces while removing his cufflinks “take the decision now or watch your wife die knowing that you could’ve saved her.”
I could still turn this around, wing it into my favour and walk out of here with my wife and children alive. All I have to do is put an action plan into order and bruise him so hard that fúcking Queen Elizabeth will feel it.
“I’ll fight you for it.” Burning saliva leaves my mouth in a quick spit to the ground “I will fight you for everything you want and if you win then you can take it all.”
Daniel lolls his head to the side, stretching the muscles with difficulty, “and if you win?”
You’re not supposed to weigh that obvious possibility, puttana.
“I’m drained, my last meal was last night and I’ve been off my calcium supplements for three months now,” his facial expression shows that he wasn’t wavering into my line of deceit “I want to lose everything of mine knowing that I fought for it.”
Daniel chastises mockingly, shaking his head in disapproval, “such Italian pride. Boys,” his large brawny goons rush to his side and they look quite beefy “untie him and remove all weapons from his body.”
The muscle in my jaw pulsates with annoyance as I’m stripped completely of all my blades and my gun until finally being left in peace. My shirt had no use of concealing my huge ego of a ripped body whatsoever so I removed it from my upper body and used it to add pressure onto my sliced wrists. Daniel, himself, was shirtless and the thought of laughing at his modelesque soft body was pushed away by Jae taking a deep, satisfying and deserved gulp of air.
“Jae --” the name of my stunningly alive wife is cut short once Daniel has me in a headlock an inch away from his balls and for a lean man, he sure does have a grip.
My family has trained me ever since I was bullied in fifth grade so escaping headlocks weren’t a problem. Escaping wasn’t something I was gunning for, frankly. No. I planned to make him regret forcing me to eye his tiny excuse of balls.
My elbow plunges through the thin wall of his chiselled abdomen and the man coughs right away, releasing the self-proclaimed headlock he had introduced to me earlier, and tumbled on the ground. Now, being an angry man who has an equally angry wife being suspended on rope many of you would’ve expected me get right into the brutality of my game.
Ovviamente no. (Of course not.)
I plan to take my time and make him feel the fruits for ever thinking he could harm my wife and get away with a whole list of my achievements while he’s at it.
“Get up, boyo.” I mimic his accent and the man is soon on his feet, his clenched fists were in front of his chest in no time. A trickle of blood cakes the corner of his mouth and the most elusive thought came to my mind. Imagine him sucking bloody come and he forgot to wipe it. Priceless? Isn’t it?
Charles darts forwards but due to my quickly agility, he falls flat onto the floor. He has got to be kidding me! Even though I had fifty percent focus in my body Charles could not inflict any form of pain onto me whatsoever. I mean, I practically gave him my body by thinking about his bloody come shot and he failed to knock me down.
Charles lifts up his head, an alarming smile forming on his lips instantly and it splits into a Cheshire cat grin, “my men said she was tight, warm and sweet.” He takes a moment to cough “throw her in!”
The haunting sound of water brings me from my reverie and she was screaming once again. Wailing, begging to be released.
I saw burgundy.
Charles was under my stature as I hit threw punches at his face, damaging his muscles and removed a lot of teeth. He cried, he cried begging me to release him but I couldn’t stop. I was high on a drug I killed the night I made love to the wonderful woman I later called my wife. I rise quickly, Charles muttering a lot of useless apologies from his bloody mouth and I kicked him right into his temple, fúcking hard. In the midst of all the violence I inflicted upon him I was weeping, weeping searing hot tears that were only known by Jaenelle. My voice was hoarse but I stopped myself before I killed him. He didn’t deserve to be killed like this - it would rather be an easy exit for him from this earth.
His goons realize that their boss may have been injured badly and one of them ran straight to me. The fat guy couldn’t even stand a chance from my fuming self and with a quick twist of the neck; he had given up on life and his gun. Hastily, I fire at least six shots into the tanks to breaks the glass and my heart jolted into my stomach once I saw the water rush out of the pathetic tank.
Three more goons charge towards me and this time I didn’t even hesitate in firing bullets in between their eyes. Their mighty physiques came crash-landing onto the floor like flies and the frightening bit of it all wasn’t the technique of killing.
I found myself scribbling a few messages on their pudgy bellies with a switchblade and the smell of crimson gave me delight. It gave me satisfaction. It gave me something only one woman ever could.
Jae still isn’t moving and the suspension of the ropes caused grave bruising onto her skin. Within minutes, Jae was free from the hold and into my arms before I laid her down right next to Charles. The stinging feeling of losing her forced me to break down into tears as I explained the situation to Andy and I knew soon that we’d find out placation, that the children would be safe. Andy asked me to perform CPR but too many bones were dislodged.
What the fúck did they put her through?
Her pulse was there, painfully faint, but I was thankful that she at least had something. I wish I didn’t have to see my wife like this, in this state because she was in a situation where I couldn’t help her. The water created a thin film on her mocha skin and I couldn’t bring myself to press my lips onto her forehead because she lay before me like glass.
One simple, stupid mistake and she’d break.
The exact ghost of her insecure self back in high school and although I could help it back then; I have no powers of any kind to assuage my wife from this position.
Bile buys a first class ticket up my oesophagus. I need to throw up but I can’t leave her here. To love and to protect, in sickness and in health - I’m an absolute failure! Heaping together all the times I’ve failed her makes me sick right to my core. I should’ve tightened security today instead of listening to her when she told me she wanted our sole family time. Now, I’m a stupid pússy, cowering beside my wife while bile begs to leave my system.
I sobbed into her ear, crying out for her to wake the bloody fúck up but she didn’t have a bite in her tone. She didn’t frown at me or smack her lips. She just...laid there.
Sirens were alleviation as I kissed her cooling neck, her cold cheek and her shut eyes. She would have to wake for Micah and Michael. Fúck, I don’t give a damn about their gender anymore! I want my wife with me and I want her right now.
Jae...please. I’ll leave it all, I’ll sell art full time and we’ll live on an island far away from here. You’ll write a book about this entire experience and we’ll enjoy the fruits of our jobs far away from anyone who would want to hurt us.
Please! Just wake the bloody fúck up!