Chapter 5 The man behind the name
~~Charlotte~~
I blinked in shock as I heard his words.
Was it him all along?
Damien…Davenport?
His hands cupped my face, a smile tugging on his lips. He pressed his lips against mine, and he slowly pulled away.
Gazing softly into my eyes, he spoke, “I went back to look for you. I'm sorry I left in the first place.”
I still looked at him, stunned. “You…are a loan shark, the one my father took a loan from?”
He slid his warm hands into mine. “Come here,” he said as he led me into my bedroom.
“I heard that you had gotten married,” he panted, his hand tightly pressed against his chest like he had run for miles. “I didn't know…” His voice trailed off. I saw Adam's apple move as he swallowed. “If I had known it was you all along…”
My eyes searched his.
Even though I was excited to see him, I was stunned as well. He was the loan shark? Why was he with a gun that day? Why did he want to get married to a woman he didn't know?
“Damien?” My voice came out subtle.
“Yes, love?” He spoke, a subtle smile on his face.
“Who really are you? A loan shark? A man that was shot and ditched by a trash bin with a gun in his hand?”
He sighed, walked closer, and slipped his hand into mine. “This had to happen sooner or later, right?” He spoke as he led me to the bed.
“What had to happen?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
He sat on the edge of my bed; as if I weighed nothing, he lifted me up and packed me on top of him, making me straddle him.
Our faces were only a few inches apart.
He hesitated before he spoke. “Charlotte… I'm not just a loan shark.”
I held my breath, bracing myself for whatever he had to say.
“I'm in the Mafia.”
I exhaled sharply, “What?” My brows arched.
“I'm the boss here.”
My lips parted with shock. “M…Mafia? You…” I couldn't find my words.
The Mafia …is real?
“The day you saw me I was in search of one of my men who got kidnapped by a rival group.”
My head spun; I slowly slipped my head away from his. “Mafia?” I muttered. “Mafia like guns and killings?” My chest heaved. “Do you kill?”
He drew in a slow breath, as if bracing himself. “I do what I have to, Charlotte.”
My lips trembled. Of course he was a killer; he had a freaking gun. Did I think he made soup with it or something?
Did I fall for a man who took peoples' lives?
“Only the bad guys?” I asked, hoping that a yes would make me feel better.
He reached for my hand once more, slipping it into his. “Only my enemies, Char.”
“Wow,” I breathed.
“Why did you want to get married? No girl in the Mafia or something?” I asked, swallowing hard as the words choked.
I wanted to know why it had to be one of my father's daughters. I had begun to fall for him, but I still wanted to know, even though the answer might hurt me.
Did he feel the same way I did?
“None that I trust enough to get the job done,” he responded curtly, his hand gripping my waist tightly.
My head tilted to the side in confusion as I asked, “Job?”
He exhaled, “Don Maximo, a rival Mafia boss who stole some of my arms, reported me to the FBI about some criminal activity to slow me down from retrieving them.”
My hand flew to my chest. “You are in trouble with the FBI?”
“Not for long, love. I provided a fake alibi, saying that I was on a honeymoon at the time. The only thing is now I need a wife to back up that alibi.”
Of course… He wouldn't have married a woman he didn't know for love, right?
Something in me rose with excitement that I was the one lucky enough to be chosen, not Mia, me.
“They are coming tomorrow and might ask you a few questions; is that okay?” He asked in a soft tone.
I nodded. "Yes, of course." I paused, my gaze growing cautious. “What crime are they accusing you of?”
“The assassination of two government officials”
“You did it, didn’t you?” I asked even though I knew the answer would be yes.
He slowly nodded, and my heart stung.
He wrapped his hands around my waist, and with a swift move, he pulled me closer to him. “Is that a deal breaker?” he asked, our eyes inches apart.
I pressed my fingers against his shoulders. I was already crazy for him, so crazy that killing wasn't a deal breaker, not at all.
I shook my head. “No,” I whispered.
As long as we were together, nothing else mattered.
He chuckled, pressing his lips against mine.
The sound of a knock on the door made me pull away.
“Boss?” A man spoke.
He groaned in annoyance, “I'm busy.” Damien spoke immediately, his fingers fondling my breasts like he worshiped them.
“It's a code red,” the man said.
Damien froze, his eyes looking up at me, pleading.
“You have to go, don’t you?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes, love.”
My shoulders fell as I slowly pulled away from him. He pressed a kiss on my forehead. “This time you know I'll come back; you are mine now.”
I nodded.
“I'll be back,” he said and walked off in haste.
THE NEXT DAY.
For the first time in twenty-three years I woke up on a soft bed, in a room that smelled of lavender, and with no chores in store for me.
I had taken a shower in the bathroom in my bedroom and changed into a purple sweater and a pair of black pants.
With a smile on my face, I stepped out of the bedroom to look around my new home. As I walked down the halls, Damien's soldiers shot me suspicious gazes.
I swallowed and headed out of the mansion; the compound was as beautiful as it was the first day I walked in. The same men who had guarded the place the previous days stood guard.
A beautiful garden ahead drew my attention; like a moth to a flame, I walked towards the garden. There were different kinds of flowers, ones I had never seen; as I attempted to walk in, I heard a loud sound.
A gunshot.
My body jerked with shock.
I turned in the direction of the sound, and my gaze caught a barn.
My lips parted, and my brows furrowed as I let out ragged breaths.
With trembling fingers I slowly tucked my hair behind my ear. My curiosity piqued, and I headed in the direction, carefully walking on a clear path between grass.
As I moved closer, I heard the sound again, this time louder.
The door to the barn was slightly opened; as I leaned to look within, I froze.
Should I look?
Would I be invading somebody's privacy?
As I pulled away from the door, the sound of Damien's voice froze me.
“Fuck it,” he yelled in anger.
I leaned back in, peeking through the door, and my pulse quickened as I caught the sight before me.
Damien was dressed in a pair of black pants and a white button-up shirt; his shirt and face were stained with blood.
But it wasn't his.
Before he was a man tied to a chair, he was stripped almost naked with only underwear on.
My hand flew to my mouth as I gazed at the gruesome sight before me; the man's skin was filled with bruises, one of his eyes had closed up from behind a hit, and his shoulder was bleeding out. It seemed to be where Damien had shot him.
“Tell me where I can find him!” Damien barked in anger, his chest heaving dramatically.
I gazed at him in shock. I had never seen him do this before. Is he the same man who treated me like a flower? Who should, at the top of his voice, be filled with worry when he couldn't find me in the attic?
I knew he was in the Mafia.
But was this it? Is this how I would see him all the time?
The man on the chair forced a smile on his face. “I'm not telling you anything,” he spat.
Damien lifted up his gun once more and cocked it. As I prayed with my lips to stop him, I felt something on the back of my head.
I froze as I heard the sound of a gun being cocked.
My hands flung up, “Damien!” I screamed immediately.
His head flung in my direction, his eyes widening.
Immediately he tried to rush towards me.
“Halt!” The person behind me barked.
Damien halted. “What are you doing here, love?” His lips trembled as he spoke, his gaze fixed on mine. “You should have stayed inside.”
“Why are you here?” He asked again, this time to the person behind me.
“You have one of my men, Damien,” the man said. “I cannot know that, can I?”
“Let her go,” Damien spoke, his jaw clenched tight.
“Let my man go, or she dies,” the man growled.
Damien's eyes filled with horror. “Fuck! If you lay a hand on her! If you lay a fucking hand on her, I swea
r!” His voice thundered through the air like lightning, sweat dripping down his face.
“I don't want to die…” My voice cracked, my throat closing as I spoke.
Damien's warm green eyes
landed on mine. “Don't say that, love; I'd rather die than let that happen.”
Tears formed in my eyes as I gave a slow nod.
But what if he couldn't save me? What if I got shot?
Is this it?
How do I die?