Arthur
It was only a matter of time, I thought. The thing about Achilles was that god damned heel, wasn’t it? I’d discovered long ago that we all had one whether we realized it or not. We all fought, we did, but our Achilles heel inexorably led to the demise of the weak. I knew Gaia’s was her brother. She’d do anything for him.
Charles Russo had one, his wife. But my terms were simple. Give up his life, and I’d let his children go, sparing his wife in the process. The bastard hadn’t done anything yet, which he’d pay dearly for. So would his brother, Edward Russo.
When I looked at Gaia across the dining room table, I wondered if I wanted to let her go at all. She would be the perfect plaything. She was feisty, stubborn, all the things that made women more exciting to break.
She looked as exquisite in a fitted emerald dress that matched her eyes as she did in that towel. Her hair was now plaited and swept across a shoulder, a few strands falling loose. She’d moved her food around her plate and hadn’t spoken a word to me since she entered the room. Waiters walked in and out of the room, removing a plate if she didn’t want it, replacing it with something else. All the while, she continued to sit there, seething.
This was one rule she would not break again. Her thoughts were no doubt with her brother, whose mind was floating elsewhere. If only she were as pliant, willing to do as she was told. There was a part of me that wondered if letting Russos children pay for his sins was the right thing to do. But there was Gaia, and I wanted her. I wanted her to kneel and submit. The way her whore mother had.
Russo knew where Gaia and Gabriel were. He knew the only way I’d let either of them go was if he knocked at my door. My insider informed me that the older Russo brother was planning a banquet, amidst all this? He apparently had a plan, but so did I. Russo had extended an invitation to me despite knowing I had his children. I sent a video of me fucking his wife in response. I knew it had reached him and my inside man told me Russo had lost it, vowing he’d be the one to end me. It would make him reckless, and I was looking forward to that.
I felt sorry for Giorgia, I hated men who used their fists on women. The only time a woman should hurt was when she wanted it, when she begged for it, while down on her knees. I thought of the girl I had hurt, and a pang of guilt washed over me. I was no different from him.
“He won’t come, you know.” The melodic sound of her voice broke the silence in the room. “He hasn’t given a fuck about us for all these years, what makes you think he’ll care now?”
“Language, young lady,” I warned.
“Did you just say that? Really? Language? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Her shouts echoed off the walls. “If you don’t like it, fuck yourself!”
She stood abruptly, sending her chair across the room. “You do not get to fucking tell me how I’m supposed to speak.”
I was across the room in a few seconds, grabbing hold of her waist, her hands pressed hard against my chest. Both of us breathed rapidly, and I felt heady at the closeness of her.
“What are you going to do, Arthur? Kill me? It would be a better fate than being stuck here with you.”
“You’re testing me, Gaia, and I don’t like to be tested.” She looked slightly startled, her eyes wide, her breathing still rapid.
“Then let me go, asshole,” she spat. Her eyes were wide, meeting my gaze without so much as blinking,
I wanted nothing more than to bend her over this table and fuck the attitude right out of her. Make her scream my name. But now was not the time. She had to want it. She had to beg for it. That was another rule and the reason I had a whore waiting for me in the basement.
“You’re welcome to leave when you want, principessa, just walk out of that door. But you’re leaving here alone.”
She brought her face closer to mine. “You want me here, Calthorpe. You think I don’t see it. The lust, the desire, the need,” she spoke in a soft tone that had my dick hardening. “But I don’t fuck cowards.” She hissed.
I released her, and she stormed off. I slammed my fist on the dining room table, sending dishes flying, unsure what the fuck this girl was doing to me. I am not the kind of man that lets anyone speak to him with such blatant disrespect. I should slit her throat and offer her to her father in pieces. But her thunder had ignited a storm inside of me, one that could not be abated. Since that first night, when I saw her on the balcony in her home, I have wanted her in a way I have not wanted another woman in years.
I wanted her to beg, I wanted her to submit. I wanted her to obey. I would not stop until she did.
* * *
Ineeded an escape, a way to drown the demons that woman was awakening inside of me. I took the elevator down to the basement. My men were there, well, most of them. Geraint was off fucking Branwen. Lance was… I did not want to think about what he was doing. Lance had the balls to fall in love with my daughter and dared me to do something about it. I’d tried to keep them apart, but it never worked. They were happy now, and I was pleased for them, as much as I could be.
I did not subscribe to relationships or commitment and warned my men against them. They never did listen though, and most of them were suddenly one-woman men. They’d given up whores for a life of fluff. I would never do that. I was fifty-two, my days of love and romance were over. Guinevere had taken all of that with her.
The other men at Headquarters were business associates who needed an escape, indulging in whores as they pleased.
The Cavalieri were either watching fights or maiming double-crossers.
I took a deep breath. What I needed was to fuck that woman upstairs out of my system. I was good at that. There were so many women at my disposal, it would be easy. There was a time when I would have a new whore every night, but lately, I’d been less inclined. Usually anger was what drove me, anger sated me, but not tonight. Tonight I needed to be buried balls deep in a whimpering whore.
This was who Arthur Calthorpe was. I used women, I left them broken. I fucked with their bodies, minds, and souls, and I did not care about the consequences. The blood of gods pumped through my veins.
Right now, I felt a rage I could not understand. I never had to ask for anything, it was always available, like the blonde in the room I just walked into. She was already kneeling, ready for me to do whatever the fuck I desired. Sultry music played in the background, and it raked on my nerves.
I slammed on the door. “Turn this shit off,” I growled, and the room filled with silence. I looked back at the woman, and she looked at me, lust burning in her eyes. I was fucking good to look at, even at my age. I made woman gape, made their panties wet. She was new, and yet here she was willing and ready to please me. She had no idea what was coming. I stalked around her, not saying a word at first, just observing, taking in every curve, the swell of her large breasts, the way her ass sat on her folded legs. They must hurt. She’d probably been in that position for a while, but still, she obeyed.
