Sweet Torture

They referred to him as the Beast of Sisily for a reason. Primrose could see that now. Kayan Salvatore was every bit as terrifying as they had said. He was every ounce of the cold, ruthless and unforgiving person as they described him. He was cold and forbidding. But Primrose didn’t have the privilege of being terrified by him. Moreover she was used to cold, forbidding men. “Mr. Salvatore,” she started taking a step ever so cautiously towards his expensive table. He didn’t look at her even after hearing her voice rather he was engrossed in the file in front of him, his midnight dark head tilted a bit to the side. “I have been waiting for you to call me. You haven’t.” “I haven’t. Which makes me wonder, what are you doing here?” Primrose gulped nervously and answered, “To marry you.” “Is that true Miss Atherton? I heard about the proposal of your father but didn’t think it was true.” He finally looked up at her and for the first time, Primrose saw his face. Yes, he was every ounce as terrifying as they described. But his dangerously handsome features were hard to ignore. There were some cuts and bruises on the right side of his face and his eyes are not as focused or sharp on that side. Yet, she still felt as if he could see through her soul, as if the attack that had reduced the physical ability of one of his eyes to see clearly had also granted him with the ability to see through one’s soul and know about their secrets without even trying. The fact that he was a demon, or a monster of some kind was part of his legacy, and looking at him now, she understood why. “I did call.” She didn’t exactly talked with Kayan, but she talked with his assistant. And she hadn’t really been welcomed. “I never assumed that you would travel all the way here from the luxury of your mansion to have your proposal turned down, as I am sure that I had already relayed my opinion on the matter.” She straightened her posture and replied sternly, “I thought you owed me a discussion. A personal one at that, not the relayed answer. You could have at least respected the fact of my father being a family friend and an elder. I just came to make sure that the contract is honored. The deal was signed twenty years ago…..” “For you to marry Yazdan. Not me.” Thinking of Yazdan always made her sad. He was her only way of escape from her father’s hell, which he called a palace. He was always her light at the end of tunnel and someone who considered her feelings and understood her, someone who cared for her. Every minute that  she spent with him, was a joyful moment for her. Though he was chosen by her father for her, she had grown to love him and had imagined to have a happy life with him. He was her fate, her liability, and while she had spent time with him, cared for him, she had fallen in love with him and had seen a hope to be happy for once in her life. At first it seemed like losing him had changed everything. Though she lost her love, she felt that maybe finally her father will leave her alone and let her to live her life the way she wants. Maybe finally she will get her freedom and have a different future. But all her hopes were shattered and now it was clear that nothing had changed. The only change is that instead of Yazdan, it would be Kayan. But she was still destined to be sold in marriage for the sake of her family and to satisfy the greed of her father. She had accepted her fate and now she felt that the change in groom didn’t matter that much. Although, actually meeting him now, it became a whole different matter than it had been in her strategy. He was…..he was something more than she’d counted on. But she knew that it was never about her. It was never about her thoughts and feelings. She had to be prepared for whatever was thrown her way to prove her worth to her father. “That’s what I thought as well. But when the contract was examined closer……there was much more to it than we knew about.” Her father had handled most of the legal portion of the contract that had been set up between the two families. When the contract was signed, she was too young to understand any if these. She was just a kid of 3 years, when her father had signed her away to the Salvatore family. And when she was informed about it, it hadn’t really been of personal interest to her. Her relationship with Yazdan had been nothing more than a business strategy by their parents until they both fell in love with each other. They would meet every month and spent as much as time as they could with each other. At first she’d simply accepted that it was the least she could do for her family and her father, that the marriage was the only thing that she could contribute but when she fell in love with Yazdan she felt a hope rising in her and she thought that the arrangement might not be that bad after all. She had never personally studied the contract. Until recently. “Well, I am betrothed to Yazdan but only if he takes over the business. If he is unable to take over for any reason, then I am supposed to marry his successor. In this case, it is you.” So weird to be standing in front of him, all but begging him to marry her when in reality it was hurting her self-respect and she just wanted to run away from there. She didn’t want to be near him let alone marry him, not on a personal level at least, any more than he wanted to marry her. Her marriage had been pushed off to some unknown near future after Yazdan’s death and for a while, no one had bothered her about it. For a while she had been allowed to get involved in the office work in a more practical manner, attending meetings, cracking new deals, checking reports, supervising projects and so on. It had been satisfying to find some use of herself outside of her gender and appearance. But that time was over because her father was on death bed and she is not allowed to take her father’s place according to the Mafia law. And the whole business will be handled by her husband who will act as a guardian until her brother Nathaniel had reached the legal age to take over the business. If she didn’t have a husband when her father died, the man placed in charge of their business would be her nearest male relative according to the Mafia law.  And what her closest male relative would do with that much power was beyond her imagination. And she couldn’t let it happen. Moreover she had promised her father that she will never let it happen. She will make sure that Kayan agrees to marry her and that she would after Nathaniel. Failure was not an option for her. She will not be able to look at her father in the eye and inform him that she had failed. She was a woman and that made her vulnerable and weak in the eyes of the men in the Mafia world. It seemed to have the same effect in the eyes of her father. Her father pushed her harder, demanded more and praised her less than he did Nathaniel. In his eyes, Nathaniel was born capable; he was worth and important being the only male child. While Primrose had to work and work to prove that she possessed any worth. And she was always up for it and ready to accept any challenge her father threw at her way, to prove her worth and to be all that she could be. To help her family, handle her father’s business and carry out her duties smoothly. And now it almost felt like a good thing, that she was the only hope left to save her father’s business. She wouldn’t give up now, not when hammering the last nail to close the coffin. The thought of it made her insides tremble with dread and worry. It made Kayan look amicable in contrast. “I don’t want a wife,” he said, looking back down at the file in front of him, hiding his face from her view. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts pushing them upwards in the process and tilted her chin upwards. “I didn’t say I wanted a husband. This isn’t about want. This is about need. About doing what is best for both of our gangs. This marriage will strengthen the economy for both our gangs and whether it’s Yazdan or…..you…..it doesn’t change that it’s the right thing to do.” Her words were ruthless. Professional. They shivered her to the core. But still she had to do this. For the lives of her people and the future of a gang. Anyway, it wasn’t as though she  was sacrificing herself on the altar. Although in many ways she might be termed the Virgin Sacrifice. The thought made her cringe. She would never be that. This was her choice. No one had forced her into Kayan’s office. If she wanted to stand back and watch her gang go to hell while she partied and lived her life somewhere else, there was nothing to stop her from doing that. Nothing except her sense of responsibility towards her family and the people of her gang and a sense of what was right. Nothing but the need to prove to her father that when it was needed she could be worth something as well. That was why she was here. Ready to do what she had to, ready to face Kayan with her head held high, even when her knees shook slightly. He looked at her, his eyes cold and bored. The emptiness in them sent a chill straight into her soul, made her feel like she was staring into a bottomless pit. His face, cold and stoic with a few cuts here and there on his perfect face made him look less human and more like a statue that has gained some imperfections on it’s perfect flawless face. He tilted his head. “You are dismissed.” She looked at him, her mouth agape. “Excuse me?” She had never been dismissed in her life before. “I have been trying to excuse you for the past fifteen minutes. Now get out of my office.” He is downright rude and arrogant. She was expecting anything but this. She had no idea that he will turn out to be this much manner less. “I will not get out,” she replied defiantly. Because she couldn’t even if she wanted to. For a second she even considered that she could walk out of his dark office and into the bright Sicilian sun outside. But then she remembered. Remembered that she had to do this. Because if she didn’t, Nathaniel would be shoved to the side while Arthur claimed her father’s position and if he managed to influence the other members of the gang and other Mafia bosses to keep himself on there permanently…..or even the possibility of him spending ten years messing with the power. It was unacceptable. And it would mean she’d failed. Failed the one thing her father felt she would be useful doing. Kayan stood from his position at his desk and rounded the desk to come in front of her. She moved backward and he stalked towards her, it was as if she was a prey trying to avoid it’s predator and he was the predator stalking his prey. He was big. Much bigger than her. Broad and toned and his suit clinging to his muscles perfectly as if they were made just for him. “Haven’t you stared enough? Why don’t you go and sell your tale of encounter with me to the highest bidder?” “That isn’t why I am here.” “No, of course not, you just want to marry me. Live here, in the mansion.” He stopped in his tracks then, arms crossed over his broad chest. “With me. Because how could Miss Primrose Atherton from her idyllic British family ever resist such an opportunity? Do you imagine you’ll be having Disney Princess-themed parties? Is that it? I am not Yazdan.” “I know that,” she said, her throat tightening. She was on the verge of crying as she knew that she was losing and she knew that she couldn’t lose. She had promised her father and she had given her word to people of her gang that no matter what she will make sure that they have a secure future and thr only way she could do this was by getting married to Kayan. The sense of responsibility was like a weight on her chest and shoulders. Sometimes it made it hard for her to breathe. But it was part of her, of who she  was. Primrose’s heartbeat escaladed when Kayan started stalking more closer to her with dark eyes and his eyebrows licked together. “If you think that the difference between Yazdan and me doesn’t matter, then you live in a foolish fantasy. The reality is this.” He simply stood there and she knew he meant himself. The man that he turned into after the attack which took his parents and his brother away from him. All because of a power grab from their rival gang. For money and power. What despicable things people did for both. And she was trying to keep the same from happening in her own gang. His lip curled into a sneer. While his lip curled up, the edge of his mouth turned down slightly, fused there by a thin ridge of healed flesh, “ Is this the man you want in your bed at night? For the rest of your life?” Her eyes went then, not to his face, but to his hands. Large hands, wide and square. They looked like they possessed strength and confidence. The images were quick and hot in her mind, dark hands on pale skin. Primrose’s body heated from the inside out, warmth pooling in her stomach and spreading slowly through her. The way that he said it was intended to sound like a threat, but deep, velvety voice made it sound like a promise. Rather than scare her, it seduced her on a level that she didn’t quite understand. No, he didn’t terrified her , but that feeling did. Foreign and strong, filling her with adrenaline and languor at the same time, weakness and strength. She didn’t know how it happened. How simple words had affected her like that. She shake her head and cleared her mind to get rid of all those thoughts. She wasn’t here to be seduced; she was here to get what she needed. “ There is an agreement.” “Out,” he said, his voice rough and hard. “I can’t do that. I need to see that this marriage happens for the good of both our gangs. If you can’t see it, I……” He took another step toward her , so close now that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. And not just heat, rage was also radiating off him. And for a flickering moment she saw something close to grief passing through his eyes but it was gone as soon as it came. It was as if it was just her imagination and his eyes were back to their empty hollowness. And he stood tall and strong in front of her. “I want to be left alone,” he said, the words flat and cold, final in the stillness of the room. She looked at him, at his face, at the exquisite bone structure beneath his smooth olive skin, high cheekbones, square jaws , straight, prominent nose. Beautiful, compelling , offering a glimpse at the man he had been. There was something about his eyes though, that captivated her with its beauty. They were enticing, mesmerizing. Fringed with thick, dark lashes, the color of them so dark they seemed black. They were incredible eyes, intelligent and piercing. Most importantly it reminded her that he was a man. Not a beast. She could see him in there this time, Kayan, as he had been before the attack. Despite his cold and aloof nature, he was captivating. Captivating in a way few people were. And this is what intrigued Primrose more about him. "This isn't about want, Kayan," she said, using his name with such emphais to state the fact that he was only human. Even though he was big and scary human. "This is about doing what's right. It's about honour." He looked at her a long time, his expression unreadable. And yet he was searching her, in her. She could feel it. "You assume, Miss. Atherton, that I am in possession of honor." "I know you ard." It was more of a hope than a certainty, but it sounded good at least. "Get out." He spoke the words gritting his teeth softly, but the command was as powerful as if he had shouted it. Failure was a foreign sensation to Primrose. She had never failed and she was not going to fail now. She had spent all her life succeeding, proving that she was worthy of the sort of respect her brother had simply been born with. The highest test results, being the best female fighter in their gang who knew everything starting from shooting to hand on hand fighting. If a task was given to her, she completed it. In so many ways failure was not an option. "Fine I'll leave you for now but I'm staying in your mansion and I'm not leaving until you change your decision," she said defiantly. She turned and strode out of his office, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. He slammed the door behind her and she jumped. Wretched man. Wretched,wicked, beastly man. She hadn't counted on this. Obviously there was a possibility he would say no but.......she was right. There was no question. She had thought he would see it. That he would understand what had to be done. Instead, he had......growled at her. Primrose stood in the middle of the empty hall, arms crossed, desperately trying to hold in the body heat radiating off her body due to anger. She didn't quite know what to do next and where to go. She can't go home as she wouldn't be welcome there with the news if such a massive failure. So she decided to do exactly what she told Kayan but she had no idea where she was supposed to go. Then as if the god heard her prayer, she heard footsteps in the corridor behind her and Primrose turned. There was an older woman walking towards her. The woman was wearing a maid's dress and she immediately revognized her. She'd been Mrs. Salvatore's personal maid and had accompanied the Salvatore family to Britain. She searched her brain for a name."Mary?" The older woman turned and treated Primrose to a warm smile. There was surprise visible in her aged face. "Miss Atherton, it has been so long. Do you have business in Sicily?" "Yes I do." Technicalky speaking, she did, even though she 'd already dealt with it, and been meet with a resounding no. "I will be staying here in the mansion for the duration of my time in Sicily." "This is a very good news, Miss. Atherton. We have not had guests in......It has been a long time." That statement had brought a flicker of emotion to the older woman's eyes. "Well, in that case I am honoured to be the first guest in so long." She felt a slight prickle of guilt. But only slight one. Kayan was being ureadonablr and she needed time to come up with another angle. She just needed some time. "Can you send some men out the main door?" Primrose asked."My driver is still there and my luggage is in the car. If you could have them brought inside, it would be a great favour." "Sure Miss. Atherton. Please come with me, I will show you to your room." And Primrose started following Mary, looking everywhere but the other woman. She busied herself with memorizing her surroundings, the route they were taking.