Marrying the Mob Prince

KNOX

I couldn’t stop hurting.

I wasn’t unaware of losing Indie for a second, because every good feeling vanished. The sun had winked out, bathing my world in ice. An intense sickness consumed my body for days. Devastated didn’t quite cover the sheer agony.

I needed her back.

I knew where she was and barely restrained myself from breaking down her door. This pain would end the moment I saw her, but she was adamant about staying away. I could have my pick of any woman in Boston, except the only one who mattered. Without her, I couldn’t breathe.

I wished I could box the way she made me feel and sell it to the masses so I could triple my net worth. I wanted to spend every day with her. She needed to be off the market and on my arm, permanently. She was my soulmate. She belonged to me. Nobody would convince me otherwise.

Not even her.

The fact she “broke up” with me meant nothing. She was still as much mine as she was before her tantrum.

Alone in my house, I raged. I staved off the impulse to break down her door. Then I couldn’t take it anymore. I slipped the burner phone from my pocket and dialed her number. I knew it by heart. The digits were etched into my brain like the pattern of moles on her body.

She answered. “Hello?”

I sighed. “Indie.”

“Knox. This is stalking.”

“So you’ve mentioned.”

“If you don’t back off, I’ll tell Vanity that I’m getting a restraining order against Bryan Knox. I’ll give your company the scoop.”

She was a lot more sassy when I wasn’t standing in her apartment. Or was this feigned bravery? Was she holding the phone away from her voice so I wouldn’t hear the tears?

“Wouldn’t running that story be a huge conflict of interest?” I flicked a speck of dust off my knee. “Besides, you would never do that to me.”

Indie’s purity was inexhaustible. She stopped dead in the street to chat with homeless people. Indulged the drunken idiot at parties. She was relentlessly positive, and her presence put everybody at ease, including me.

“Knox, I’d hate to ruin your life,” she said in her breathy, feminine whisper. “Don’t make me do this. Please.”

“I don’t think I can stop.”

“You have to,” she commanded. “I’m not kidding! This isn’t fair to either of us.”

“Believe me. I wish I could,” I hissed, raking my hands through my hair. “I hate-fucking loathe-the effect you have on me.”

“I’m not sure I want to have an effect on you.”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“Yes, you do.” I paced my bedroom, my eyes raw from lack of sleep. “You want to be the one that changes the tyrant.”

“The only person who can do that is you.”

“Why should I?”

Indie’s pained breath cut into my lungs. “You should do it for me.”

She was asking the impossible.

“I don’t understand why you’re making this so hard. Every woman I’ve ever been with begs me for more. Most of them take off their clothes before I give the order.”

“Great. Date them.”

She could barely get the words out.

“Nobody exists to me but you, Indie.”

“Then you have to change.”

“I can’t! This is who I am.” My screaming echoed, the sound so wild, I couldn’t believe it came from my mouth. “Be reasonable.”

“I asked you for space.”

“I know,” I muttered brokenly. “I’m trying.”

The line prickled with static, and then she released a tense breath. “This is really desperate of you.”

I couldn’t agree more. “This is nothing. I’m capable of worse, which you already know.”

“Don’t,” she begged. “Knox…you have to move on.”

The suggestion made me want to punch a hole through the wall. “I am never moving on.”

“I told you what I need. How many new phone numbers have you gotten to harass me?”

“Twelve. Sixteen if you count the emails.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I have to laugh at myself, Indie. Because the alternative is to hate this groveling sack of shit I’ve become. I miss you,” I reluctantly admitted, marveling that it was true. “I need to feel you in my arms again.”

“Knox…I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I know you miss me, too.” I swallowed the rest of my words. “How are you?”

“So far, so good.”

“Come on. Give me a bit more than that.”

“It’s nice to have my way, for once.” Her voice thawed slightly. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“I haven’t slept in days. I fantasize about kidnapping you. I can’t function. I don’t eat. I barely sleep. Am I okay? What do you think, sweetheart?”

“Knox, I can’t with this.”

“I’m just being honest.”

“No,” she barked. “You’re unloading on me. Guilting me. Is that your goal? Manipulating me into coming back? When we first met, you said you wanted me willing.”

“I did. I mean, I do.” I seized the handle to my dresser, my knuckles whitening. “Of course I do.”

“And yet you won’t leave me alone.”

“Things changed. I…I can’t bear it, Indie. My feelings for you are out of my control. I told you that. Ever since you grabbed my arm at the interview all those months ago, you’ve been in my head. Do you know how many I allow to touch me like that? None. But I give you free rein over my boundaries.”

She went quiet before saying, “Knox, you should get help for that.”

“I’ve healed as much as I ever will,” I spat out, slamming my fist onto the wood. “And baby, judging from how easily I make you come, you don’t want me to change.”

“Our relationship is not normal.”

“Fuck normal. It’s overrated. Besides, normal people failed me during my childhood. The doctors and social workers knew about my abuse. They stood by and did nothing. So if that’s what normal is, I don’t want to be associated with it!”

“Believe me, no one thinks that about you.”

“If they did, it would be because of you,” I murmured, thinking back to her flattering article. “The first time I read your profile, I was stunned. I didn’t realize you were checking me out. Finding out how hot you were for my body turned me on, Indie. Want to hear what I thought of you?”

She didn’t respond, but her breathing hitched.

“That low-cut blouse teased your cleavage. I got an eyeful of your perky tits when you took off your jacket. I remember wondering how nice they’d taste. How hard I’d bite them. How they’d look covered in my cum. If you’d let me take pictures of us fucking.” Heat spiraled into my groin as I pictured her in that blouse and skirt. “And when I finally broke you down, we did all that and more. Didn’t we?”

“Yes.” A grudging warmth rushed into her voice. “But Knox, you could have that with someone else.”

“You’ve ruined other women for me, Indie.”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

My chest tightened. “But I have to see you.”

“No.”

For God’s sake. “Why not?”

“Because I know what’ll happen! You’ll get me in bed and make me forget why I’m mad at you. And then you’ll take over everything again, until I’m back where I started-blowing you whenever you point at your dick!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sounds fun.”

“No, Knox. You’re supposed to be my fiance, but I’m a prisoner. I’m not your equal. All you’ve ever done was own me, trap me, and control me.”

“I need the control. It heals me.”

“No, it doesn’t. If it did, you wouldn’t have to keep doing it. Control is a drug for you. You need more and more. You’re never satisfied.”

She was correct. The more she obeyed, the more difficult it became to ignore my baser urges. Her submission in the bedroom intoxicated me. I always craved more. If I could control Indie’s breathing, I would.

“Indie, I’d never hurt you. You know that, right?”

She quieted, and the weight of her silence filled my lungs with something that felt…wrong.

She hung up.

What the hell happened to us?

I hurled the phone into the wall, and it shattered. My house was the loneliest place because her absence stabbed my gut whenever I looked into the hollowed-out dressers. Losing her threw my empty life into sharp disarray.

I was lost in the suffocating pressure coiling my heart. I couldn’t take this anymore. I needed the world to reorient back into its regular orbit, but what could I do?

Pull yourself together and come up with a plan.

Yes, everything was fine.

I breathed slowly.

Her defiance was a mere inconvenience and frankly, a strange decision coming from a woman well-acquainted with my ruthlessness. Apparently, I’d loosened her leash too far. It was time I gave it a tug, just to let her know there was still tension in the rope.

I dialed Tony’s number.

He answered after a few rings. “Yeah?”

“It’s me. I need a favor.”