Cruel Beast : A Dark Forced Marriage Mafia Romance (Dark Lies Book 3)

  CONTENTS

  Blurb

  Preface

  1. Alicia

  2. Enzo

  3. Alicia

  4. Enzo

  5. Alicia

  6. Enzo

  7. Alicia

  8. Enzo

  9. Alicia

  10. Enzo

  11. Alicia

  12. Enzo

  13. Alicia

  14. Enzo

  15. Alicia

  16. Enzo

  17. Alicia

  18. Enzo

  19. Alicia

  20. Enzo

  21. Alicia

  22. Enzo

  23. Alicia

  24. Enzo

  25. Alicia

  26. Enzo

  27. Alicia

  28. Enzo

  29. Alicia

  30. Enzo

  About J.L. Beck

  About S. Rena

  Copyright © 2022 by Bleeding Heart Press

  Cover Design: C. Hallman

  Cover Photographer: Wander Aguiar

  Editing: Kelly Allenby

  Proofread: Editing for Indies

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  BLURB

  Money. It’s the root of all evil, and I needed it more than anything else right now.

  Some would call it being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  To me, the day I met Enzo was the day the old me died.

  When he kidnaps me, thinking I’m the daughter of his enemy, the only thing I can do is pretend to be someone I’m not. It’s either that or risk uncertain death.

  Except, the more I pretend, the deeper I fall.

  Enzo is dark, cruel, and menacing, but he’s protective, fierce, and determined.

  Soon he wants to forge a contract between the families, making me his bride, but he has no idea I’m not who he thinks I am, and when he finds out… I’ll be as good as dead.

  PREFACE

  Family. A bond between a group of people who share the same blood. At least, that’s how it should be. A father, mother, sister, brother—I have none of that and learned early on that the word means something different for everyone.

  While most people are loved and raised to be kind, functioning members of society, I was left fighting for my life as a toddler next to the corpse of my mother by the man who should have nourished me. Samuele Russo—ruthless, tyrant, and DEAD. Of course, he can thank me for that.

  My first memory in life is cruelty, and from that moment on, it’s become the very essence of my being. All my life, I was tortured by that fact, and now that I’ve gotten my revenge, it’s time I finally fulfill my mother’s legacy and take my place as the reigning king of the De Luca dynasty.

  1

  ALICIA

  “Please. All I need is a little more time. I promise I’ll be able to get the money together. It just won’t be right now.”

  I’d love to say this is my first time inside this office, but it’s not. It isn’t even the tenth time. By now, my advisor and I are on a first-name basis. That makes it even more painful when he sighs and leans back in his chair after hearing my sob story for nearly the one-hundredth time.

  “I’m sorry, Alicia.” He shrugs and tosses his pen on the desk. “But there’s nothing I can do.”

  I hold up my folded hands. “John, come on. Please,” I beg. “You know what it’s been like for me.”

  “I do because we go through this conversation every time I have to call you in for late tuition payments.”

  It takes everything inside me not to grit my teeth and roll my eyes. Instead, I make nice because, at the end of the day, I need him. “They cut back my hours at the store,” I explain even though I know he doesn’t want to hear it. “I could try to get a second job, but then I won’t have any time to go to class.”

  As it is, I barely sleep at night since I hardly have time to study otherwise. I’m practically killing myself to get through college, so I might as well try to pass my classes. Otherwise, what’s it all for?

  Like always, he is sympathetic, but that’s about as far as it goes.

  “I understand. I really do. Many of us are going through hardships. It’s just the fact of life right now.”

  I shake my head in frustration. “That’s not even mentioning the fact that everything is more expensive now. Tuition has been raised. I don’t see how anybody can keep up with this, even people with families paying for them.”

  He leans forward, folding his hands on a stack of folders. He’s a nice guy, a family man with photos of his kids lined up on his desk. I get the sense he doesn’t make much in his job—his clothes are always a little worn. And once, I passed a shoe store at the mall and could’ve sworn he was one of the guys helping customers locate a style in their size. But the store was pretty crowded, so I could have been wrong. Still, it wouldn’t shock me to find out he has a second job.

  “You aren’t the only person going through tough times,” he explains in a quieter voice than the one he used before. “And I agree with you; it’s startling the way costs seem to rise every year. Inflation’s a bitch, too—pardon my language.”

  Yes, that was one of the reasons they gave me at the store for cutting back hours. It costs more money to ship products to the stores across the country and more to produce them, so they have to save money where they can. That means people like me go bye-bye.

  “I do everything I can to locate money for the students assigned to me.” He plops a hand on top of a thick stack of file folders. “Here are just some of the people who’ve passed through my door in the last week alone. Pretty soon, my kids are going to forget what I look like if I keep pulling the kind of hours I’ve been putting myself through.”

  I feel sorry for him, but what am I supposed to say? “And are you able to help them?”

  “Some. Others have used every last resource at their disposal, but it still isn’t enough.” He lowers his brow, gazing at me from over the top of his glasses. “Does that sound familiar?”

  “Are you trying to guilt-trip me?”

  “Of course not.” He looks at me like he can’t believe I would think such a thing. “I’m just saying there’s only so much that can be done. We’ve been here before, Ms. Gutierrez, and every time we’ve managed to pull something out of thin air. But a lot of these programs are tapped out now. The grants, all of it. You’re going to have to find a way to make up the difference yourself. I’m sorry, but the school has policies in place for a reason.”

  Policies. Rules. I’m so sick of hearing about them, sick of everybody else getting an extra pass except for me. There are so many other arguments I can make, but I’ve made them all before. He practically knows my entire life story by now. I’m surprised I didn’t get invited to his kids’ last birthday party. We spend so much time facing each other across his scarred, scuffed metal desk that we might as well be family.

  Speaking of family, I don’t have any to fall back on. I don’t have anything valuable that I can sell. There are only so many hours in the day, and I doubt I could devote enough of them that anybody would bother hiring me.

  His eyes light up, and for a moment, I have hope. “Could you find work someplace else? If they’ve cut back your hours—”

  So much for hope. I shake my head, nauseated more and more with every passing moment. “I’ve already appl
ied for everything anywhere near campus, but jobs are scarce. Everybody keeps telling me more spots will open after graduation, but what good will that do me now? Besides, the company covers part of my tuition as it is. I’d be in worse shape if I quit.”

  “I know, it all seems impossible.”

  “Seems?” I scoff, “No, it is. You’re telling me I’m going to be kicked out of school at the end of this semester unless I can pay the rest of my bill, which we both know I can’t.”

  “You won’t be kicked out,” he reminds me, and while I know he’s trying to be nice, the fact that he sounds like he’s trying to talk one of his twin toddlers out of doing something foolish only grates on my nerves. “You’ll be put on a waitlist, then re-enrolled when you can pay again. And until then, there’s one last extension we can apply for, but that’s it.”

  Yes, that’s it. I only have to wait until I can afford it. By then, tuition will go up even higher than before, I’m sure. It doesn’t help that some of the classes I need for my major are only offered next semester, then not again for a year. This isn’t a matter of just waiting until next year. It would be a year and a half at this point. A year and a half of everyone around me moving on and getting ahead while I work some crappy job, scraping nickels together to afford the basics.

  There’s a knock on the door, and we turn to find the financial office administrator poking her head in. “Your five o’clock is here,” she murmurs, offering me an apologetic smile. In other words, it’s time for me to go.

  “Don’t give up hope, Alicia,” he says, his brows pinched together in a pained expression as he extends a hand to shake.

  I return the gesture robotically, doing it only because it’s expected of me. This gets more painful with every passing moment. I know I shouldn’t feel ashamed, but I can’t help it. I’m a loser, at least in the eyes of the powers that be around here. Just one more pitiful person who can’t quite seem to get things right. It’s enough to make me want to crawl into a hole and bury myself.

  I should walk out of his office with my head held high since it’s not like I did anything to get myself in this position. I didn’t blow a trust fund or dip into my tuition funds to pay for a lavish trip or anything like that. All I did was commit the crime of being poor, and it seems like there’s no shortage of people who want to punish me for it.

  When I step outside of the building, I make it a point to take a few deep breaths in hopes of centering myself. Campus has already quieted down a little bit, the way it always does at this time of day. Still, enough people are hanging out, chatting with friends, and listening to music without a care in the world to set my teeth on edge and make frustrated tears threaten to well up in my eyes.

  They don’t get it. They don’t understand how charmed their lives are. Sure, they might have other things weighing them down. Everybody does. But their existence is at least provided for. They can afford their iced coffees, cute clothes, and upgraded phones while I walk around with a phone at least four generations behind.

  I’ve never cared about fitting in, attending parties, or joining clubs and activities. The whole idea of college life never really resonated with me. I’m here to get an education so that I can live a better life in the future. That’s all. Not that I don’t have any friends, I just don’t have time to indulge in fun things the way so many other people do.

  “Alicia! Hola, chica!” A voice I know all too well fills my ears.

  Life is truly determined to rub this situation in my face. It’s not that I didn’t like or get along with Elena. Just the opposite. We’ve gotten along great ever since we met as project partners in a history class last year. She’s fun and laid-back and takes no shit from anybody.

  It’s just that she’s exactly the kind of person I was just thinking of. Somebody who never has to worry about anything. She doesn’t have to work, so she has plenty of time to hang out and make friends and go to parties. I’m sure if she was the kind of person who joined clubs, she’d be in a ton of those. Whenever we have a few minutes to chat after class, she tells me about how she has to go shopping or how she’s got a hair or nail appointment she needs to get to. All I can do is nod and wish I had the kind of life where those were actual problems.

  When she reaches me, she frowns, her eyes darting over my face. “What’s wrong? Whose ass do I need to kick?”

  I blurt out a laugh, but like magic, that single little outburst is all it takes to open the floodgates. The tears that were only threatening to well up now do more than that, spilling onto my cheeks before I can stop them.

  “Hey, hey, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Here, take a seat.” Elena places a hand on my shoulder, guiding me toward the nearest bench. “Can I get you anything? Do you need some water?”

  I shake my head, embarrassed, searching in my backpack for a tissue. “I’m sorry. This is so dumb. You don’t need to be wasting time dealing with me being a blubbering baby.”

  “Don’t do that. You’re like the least emotional person I know, which means something shitty must have happened. Now tell me, what’s going on?”

  “It’s embarrassing.”

  “I said, what’s going on?”

  Obviously, she’s not going to let me get away with this. I have to put my pride aside as much as it hurts. Besides, we’re friends—right?

  “Fine! I can’t afford tuition. And they’re not going to let me slide like they have before. If I can’t make up the difference, I’ll be put on a waitlist next semester, and I’ll have to wait until next year to finish my classes. I can’t do that. I can’t waste an entire year that way.”

  “How much do you need?” she asks without blinking an eye.

  “I swear to God, Elena, if you’re even considering giving me the money, I will walk away from you right now and never talk to you again.”

  The way she scowls tells me that’s exactly what she was thinking. “You could at least answer my question.”

  “A few thousand.” God, it might as well be a million. “I have no idea how I’m going to make up the difference. I barely have time to sleep as it is, and I just got done telling my advisor no places are hiring around here. So I’m stuck with the shitty hours they’re giving me at the store. I don’t know what else to do. I’m starting to feel like this was all for nothing.”

  “Don’t say that.” She frowns.

  I almost laugh. “No offense, but it’s easy for you to tell me not to say it. I’m the one who knows how I’m feeling, and right now, it feels like all the money I’ve spent on tuition and everything else was a waste because I’m not going to end up graduating.”

  I slide an embarrassed look her way, expecting her to tell me to fuck off or something. She was only trying to be helpful, after all. But all she’s doing is staring at me—no, studying me, her lips pursed like she’s thinking.

  “What?” I finally have to ask. “What are you thinking? I can see the wheels turning in your head.”

  She grins, but only briefly. “It’s just that I thought of something that might help you.” She hesitates a little.

  “I told you, I’m not—”

  “Would you stop talking over me and let me get this out?” she demands, shaking her head. “I was going to say, I think I might have a job for you.”

  “Oh.” I sit up a little straighter, wiping away the last tear. “What is it? I’ll do just about anything. I’m that desperate.”

  “It’s not… conventional.”

  Oh god, I better stop her before the shit gets deep. “I don’t think I’d be a very good stripper if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  She bursts out laughing, which is not exactly what a girl wants to hear at a time like this. It’s like she agrees with me or something, and it’s only slightly mortifying.

  “It’s not stripping. In fact, you wouldn’t have to take off a stitch of clothing. Though don’t even act like you wouldn’t make a ton of cash if you shook that ass.”

  I can’t help but blush at the idea of sha
king my ass for strangers or even for people I know. “So what is it?”

  “First, I need you to remember how much you need this money. And I hope you don’t freak out over what I’m about to say.” She leans in a little closer, her eyes darting around like she wants to make sure nobody is standing too close to us. “I have a way you could make all the money you need and then some in one night.”

  I’m starting to get the feeling this isn’t a completely legal sort of job. And now I have to wonder exactly where my friend gets all her money. Then I remember beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s not up to me to judge anybody.

  Even though I’ve walked the straight and narrow my entire life, I’m willing to break that habit if it means being able to pay for school and having a little money left over. It’s been so long since I’ve had any money for more than the basics.

  I ignore the way my hands shake and the thudding of my heart against my ribs. I should turn around, go back to my apartment, and cry my sorrows into a book, but even I know that wouldn’t solve my problems. I’m desperate, and that means I’m willing to do anything.