Marrying the Mob Prince -
3-6
CAINAN
I tied her hands.
Our brief struggle landed on the floor with Claire pinned under my body, writhing. Her bitter gaze met mine as I snapped zipties around her. She bucked madly as I grappled with her, wrenching her head back to tape her mouth shut. It wasn't easy. She wasn't as dainty as she looked and she wasn't afraid to punch. I caught several blows on my chest.
She lay beneath me, her lacy bra peeking from inside her dress. She scratched at the plastic wrapping her wrists, bellowing like a frightened animal.
I swallowed hard.
But I wasn't sorry. Not in the slightest.
If anything, I owed myself an apology for indulging in a ridiculous fantasy. I could never be the man she wanted, and even if I could, I was going to destroy this girl. I couldn't allow myself to get attached. No more dates. No more gazing at her and wishing things were different. No more dreaming-only fucking. Claire was nothing more than a sacrificial lamb, presented at the altar for a vengeful god. And I was his devil.
The burning spread to my gut as the apartment door opened. Two lackeys from Sanctum, Alex and Liam, entered, both wearing crimson ties and black suits. Claire flipped onto her side and bellowed, but they didn't even glance at the girl tied up at my feet.
"Why isn't she asleep?"
"No idea," I said, motioning toward the suitcase. "Get her luggage."
I gave the apartment an uneasy once-over. My stomach rebelled as I scooped Claire in my arms.
"Let's go," I ground out, tuning out her muffled groans. The Sanctum goon followed me outside. He opened the SUV's door, and I took a deep breath before I ducked inside.
Claire thrashed. I had to crush her with my bodyweight, which awakened parts of me starving for her touch. Claire's head rolled over my groin. A boom sounded through the van as the trunk closed. Her eyes widened. Her muscles seized. She screamed, red staining her cheeks. Veins in her neck swelled like ropes.
Alarm shot down my spine.
"Shut that bitch up," snarled Alex, who'd hurled himself in the passenger seat. "Jesus fucking Christ."
Liam took the driver's seat and started the car. It jolted forward, knocking Claire to the side. I yanked her over my lap. Ignoring the fit she made was impossible. Even with the tape on her mouth, it was like a scratch on a record, jarring, painful. She ripped back and forth. Her desperation knotted agony in my stomach.
Alex turned, snarling. "Shut her up!"
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I stroked her hair, and she flinched. "I usually let them get it all out."
Claire dove toward the door. I jerked her down. Her feet flailed as I dragged her onto the seat.
"Give her the sedative. We have a long drive ahead of us." Alex grabbed a box from his jacket and opened it, glowering when I didn't reach for the fluid-filled syringe. "What's the problem?" I had no idea. My skin broke with beads of sweat. This had never happened to me before.
"I already gave her pills," I muttered, swallowing down my nausea. "Anything more might-"
"You want her to panic all the way to the airport? Be my fucking guest." Alex swore as Claire attempted to knee my balls. "Give her the shot and be done with it. She'll thank you later." She won't. "What's in it?"
"What does it matter? It's lorazepam. They use it in hospitals. She'll be fine."
I took the syringe.
My head filled with images of the last time I'd drugged someone. Of the damage and devastation I'd already caused. Bringing an arrogant billionaire to his knees seemed like justice, but this...this was evil. I swallowed bile as my fingers touched the plastic. This is what you deserve for getting too attached. I inhaled deeply. Just do it. Her screaming, the bound hands, the syringe-they stirred terrible memories.
I had a job to do. I needed to be a ruthless bastard to get it done. On the list of heinous things I'd planned for Claire, drugging her wouldn't even make the top five.
Do it.
I moved the girl on her side, clutched her arm until it whitened, and stabbed. I winced as the plunger went down. Clouded with a murky terror, her eyes rolled back. Her muffled shriek dulled to a low wail. I ripped out the needle and flung it to the floor. The sight of it laying on the carpet gripped my guts.
Claire sank into my lap. Her muscles relaxed. She was out.
I felt her pulse. I checked her breathing. The lump in my throat swelled as I peeled the tape off her mouth. Then I wiped the tears tracking her cheeks, tracing a shameful path from her gorgeous lips to her soft neck I'd held not long ago. My pulse raced. A mad craving snaked my limbs, intoxicating, filling my head with lurid images. My thumb played with her open pout, my cock painfully hard. An obscene urge to kiss her consumed me.
I sealed my lips against hers.
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