Chapter 1
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Andy Carter
“You!” I gasp, spinning around to the source of the voice. Mark Whitlock is looming over me, leering. His expensive suit hangs off his gaunt frame. If anything, his features are even more haggard than when I last saw him. Or perhaps it’s simply that we’re surrounded by beautiful people. And Mark simply isn’t one of them.
“Surprised to see me, Andrea?” he asks. He has a whiskey tumbler in one hand. His free hand is deep in his pants pocket. “Didn’t think I had the balls to pitch up here?” He gestures around with his glass. “Thought I’d be afraid to come out to watch your fucking farce?”
I’m too aghast to say a word.
“I’m not scared of your little band of criminals,” he goes on. “Men like me move in different circles to these cheap thugs,” he scoffs. “The upper echelon.” He glances over to where Mateo still has his back to us, and his lip curls.
“You…you can’t—” I begin, still trying to gather my wits.
“Can’t what? Come to claim what’s mine?” he snorts. “Actually, bitch, I can do whatever the fuck I want. You see, this bunch of cunts,” he jerks his head in Mateo’s direction, “used to think they owned me. But things have changed. Now I’m the one who owns them. I’m the king.” He gives a rough chuckle, which turns into a phlegmy cough. Once again, I’m convinced this man has health issues. Probably self-inflicted. I hope he rots.
“Mateo,” I say huskily, praying he’ll turn around and see what’s going on.
“What’s that, Andrea?” Mark says mockingly. “Calling your lapdog to come and bare his teeth at me?” He laughs again, more loudly this time. I notice Mateo stiffen at the sound and begin to turn. “But that’s exactly what I’m hoping for, sweetheart,” Mark says. Mateo’s facing us now. Then suddenly, he’s barreling toward us; serving staff are flying out of his path. Raoul’s hot on his heels.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Whitlock?” Mateo snaps as he reaches my side. I shrink against him, feeling relief flood through me.
“Thought I’d have a word with the blushing bride-to-be, Ricci,” Mark sneers. “After all, it’s only a matter of time before this shitshow gets blown out of the water.”
“Back the fuck off,” Raoul snarls, stepping right up to Mark. And then Dario appears as if from nowhere. The three of them encircle Mark, who casually takes a sip of his drink.
“What do you plan to do, Caraldi,” he taunts. I see Dario’s face darken thunderously.
“Shall I show you?” Dario says softly.
Mark stiffens slightly, and it occurs to me that he’s just been prodded by something lethal. But he doesn’t let his smirk slip.
“There’s no way you can take me out here, Caraldi,” he says to Dario. “Any of you, for that matter,” he adds to Raoul and Mateo, who’s put himself between Mark and me. Raoul spits a curse, but Mateo keeps his cool.
“You’re not on the guest list, Whitlock,” he says icily. “I suggest you leave.”
“Leave?” he scoffs. “Why would I want to leave? This party’s just getting started.”
“Get the fuck out before I gut you like a fish,” Raoul hisses at him. I’d never seen the guy get mean before, and it’s surprising that it’s in response to a threat to me. But then again, these three have been a band of brothers for years.
Mark simply takes a sip of his whiskey.
“You can’t do that, and you know it,” he replies. “I own this town. More importantly, I own Broderick Carter. And that bitch wife of his,” he chuckles. “Pair of fucking idiots thought they could live the high life. He thought he was a big deal, blowing money that wasn’t his. Now he owes me a cool twelve billion. And guess what he’s given me to pay off his debt.”
I feel myself go stiff. “My father sold me to you for twelve billion dollars?” I choke out.
“I know, right? Pretty hefty price tag considering you’re used goods,” he laughs. When Mateo brushes against me, I can feel every muscle go rigid.
“I’m not impressed, Mark,” I say coolly, which amazes me because inwardly, I’m trembling with fury and horror. “I’m worth double that, at least.”
Mark barks out a laugh that has whiskey and spittle flying through the air.
“You? In your dreams, princess! Maybe when you were young and innocent. But that didn’t last long. Remember how you moaned like a slut when I fucked that tight little cunt of yours back then? You were begging for—”
I don’t know what else he’s planning to say because Mateo’s fist connects with his jaw with such force it takes Mark clean off his feet. I clasp my hands over my face as I hear the pair go down. The only thing that eases my anxiety is that when I hear the heavy crunch of someone hitting the floor, I’m pretty sure it’s Mark who bears the brunt of it. He gives a choked cry, and then the sound is cut off as Mateo lifts him back to his feet, dangling him by his throat. There are gasps of surprise from the other guests around us, and then the room goes quiet. Mark flails wildly, but the move is completely useless. He’s like a stick insect in the grip of a cobra.
“Let me do him right here!” Raoul bites out, stepping up closer. Mark is hissing like a cornered animal, seemingly convinced that he’s immortal.
