Blackmailed to the Altar (Caputo Crime Family #2)

20. Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

D r. Mya

I sat at the long table in the dimly lit dining room of the Caputo estate, my fingers tracing the edges of my glass absently. The heavy silence around me was suffocating. It wasn’t that I minded the quiet, after all, it gave me time to think, but tonight it felt oppressive, like a thick, invisible weight pressing down on me. I’d been here for hours, trying to push the uncomfortable tension in my chest away, but it refused to dissipate.

I stared into my glass, watching the way the amber liquid swirled with the movement of my hand, each motion a reflection of my thoughts: the marriage, the manipulation.

I wasn’t even sure what to call it anymore. There was no love, no romance, just cold, hard power, and I hated that. Hated the idea of being a pawn in this little game, a tool to be used to further another person’s ambitions.

The sound of the door creaking open snapped me from my reverie. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Riccardo. He had that way of entering a room, as if the very air shifted when he walked in. He was everything I shouldn’t want, but somehow did: powerful, wealthy, and in control of everything around him. But beneath that polished, authoritative exterior was a man who lived by rules I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, accept.

“Dr. Mya,” Riccardo’s voice was smooth as always, though I could hear the subtle edge in his words. He knew how to soften his tone to sound inviting, but I wasn’t fooled. “I’ve been waiting to speak with you.”

I didn’t respond at first, pretending to examine the contents of my glass, trying to steel myself against whatever he wanted from me now.

I had no intention of letting him win me over with his charm.

But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not Riccardo. He was relentless in his pursuit of control.

“Not now, Riccardo,” I muttered, still not looking at him. “I’m not in the mood.”

The sound of his footsteps grew louder, and before I knew it, he was standing beside me, his presence like a shadow falling over my own. I could feel the heat of his body radiating close, and I was suddenly aware of how small I felt in the grand, intimidating space of the dining room. I could still smell the faint trace of cologne in the air, the kind that clung to him even after he’d left the room. The kind of cologne that smelled like power. Like danger.

“Not in the mood?” He repeated the words like a challenge, but there was an underlying amusement in his voice. “That’s unfortunate. I was hoping to change that.”

I rolled my eyes and stood abruptly, not wanting to remain seated any longer. My stomach churned with an unpleasant combination of dread and frustration. “You think you can just waltz in here and change my mind?” I scoffed, turning to face him, my hands clenched at my sides. “You think that just because you’re you, I’m supposed to fall in line? It’s not that easy.”

Riccardo’s smile didn’t falter. He was good at hiding his thoughts, at masking any irritation with that polished, impenetrable mask he wore so well. But I could see it in his eyes. The momentary flicker of something sharp, something dangerous. That was the Riccardo I hated; the one who controlled everything, even when it seemed like he was letting go.

“You misunderstand, Mya,” he said smoothly, stepping closer. “I’m not here to ask for your permission or your approval. I’m here to show you that despite your doubts, despite your resistance, I will make you happy. That’s my job now.”

I almost laughed. “Your job?” I repeated, disbelief heavy in my voice. “Your job is to make me happy? You’re the one who’s been making decisions about my life before I even had a say in it. This marriage, this—” I cut myself off, unable to keep the bitterness from spilling over. “This is blackmail, coercion. That’s all it ever was, Riccardo. You’re not here to make me happy. I’m here because I have no choice.”

He reached for my hand, offering it with an easy, practiced grace. I hesitated, staring at his outstretched fingers for a moment longer than I should’ve. But it wasn’t affection I saw in them. It was dominance. Ownership. Control.

I jerked my hand away from his grasp, the action almost as sharp as the words that followed. “I don’t need you to fix me, Riccardo. I don’t need your promises or your... grand gestures.” I took a step back, the space between us suddenly feeling like a chasm. “I’m not some little girl you can woo with your charm. You don’t even know what happiness is, do you?”

His expression faltered for just a second, before he composed himself, his eyes narrowing slightly. The smile that had been on his lips now seemed like a mask, strained and unconvincing. “You think I don’t know what happiness is?” His voice dropped low, the edge in it unmistakable. “Let me tell you something, Mya. I don’t care about your idea of happiness. I’m not here to cater to your whims. But what I can give you is security. Power. A future. Isn’t that what you want? A future?”

I stood there for a moment, unable to answer. Of course, I wanted a future. But not this future. Not one where I had no control over my own life. I didn’t want to be married to a man who saw me as a means to an end. I didn’t want to be someone’s trophy wife. But Riccardo didn’t care about what I wanted. He wasn’t here to negotiate. He was here to remind me who was in charge.

“Security?” I echoed, my voice tinged with anger. “You think I need you for security? I can stand on my own, Riccardo. I don’t need to be part of your empire to feel safe.”

He took a step closer, his voice now cold, measured. “You will need me. You don’t have a choice in the matter.”

The words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. It was like everything had narrowed down to this one moment; this one truth I couldn’t escape. I was trapped in this world, bound by my dangerous secrets, by my obligations, by this blackmail. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

But before I could respond, his phone buzzed in his pocket, cutting through the tension. Riccardo pulled it out without a second thought, glancing at the screen. I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. Business. Of course. It always came back to that. Always.

“I need to take this,” he said, his tone flat. “It won’t take long. I promise.”

I wanted to say something, to scream at him for ignoring me, for treating me like I was insignificant compared to whatever deal he was making on the other end of the line, but I bit my lip instead. It wasn’t worth it. Nothing was ever worth it when it came to Riccardo.

He walked a few steps away from me, his focus entirely on the phone call, his voice now cool and detached as he spoke in a language I couldn’t understand. A language of power, of manipulation, of the very thing I despised. He was already a world away, leaving me to stand there, seething with frustration, alone with my thoughts.

“Of course, I understand,” Riccardo’s voice floated back to me, too calm, too collected. “We’ll discuss the terms at the meeting tomorrow. Ensure everything is in order.” He paused. “Good. I’ll take care of it.” The call ended abruptly, and he turned back toward me, his expression now professional, like nothing had happened.

It took everything in me not to storm off right then and there. I’d spent enough time letting him manipulate me, letting him believe that I would simply fall into line. But not anymore.

“You’ll take care of it?” I asked, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “What about me, Riccardo? Don’t you care about me at all? Don’t you even see me as a person?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he simply walked back over to where I stood, his eyes cold and unyielding. There was no emotion there, nothing that indicated he cared. It was as if my feelings didn’t even register in his world.

His gaze softened as he reached out for my hand once more. This time, I didn’t pull away. Not because I wanted him to hold me, but because I was exhausted, emotionally drained from the constant tug-of-war between what I wanted and what I had to accept.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice low, his tone unyielding. “Let’s take a walk. I’ll show you that you don’t need to worry. I’ll make sure you’re happy.”

I stood frozen for a moment, my anger bubbling under the surface, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn’t want to go with him. I didn’t want to walk beside him like nothing had happened, like this was just another day in a life I had no say in.

“No,” I snapped, jerking my hand away from his, my voice louder than I meant it to be. “You’re not listening to me. You think you can control me. You think that your power, your money, your promises will win me over, but I’m not one of your assets to manage. I’m not here to make you look good. I’m not your prize.”

Riccardo’s face twisted into something between annoyance and frustration, and for the first time, I saw the cracks in his mask. His jaw clenched, his hands curled into fists at his sides. But then he took a deep breath, smoothed out the lines of his expression, and in a voice colder than I’d ever heard it, he said, “You’ll learn, Mya. Some things can’t be avoided. We have a role to play in this world. And you’re no different.”

I stood there, my chest heaving with anger, the words sinking into me like a slow poison. There was no escape. There was no way out.

All I wanted in that moment was to break free; to get away from him, from the life he was trying to force me into. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t that simple.

I was trapped.

And Riccardo would make sure I stayed that way.

I tried backing away slowly as his gaze grew wicked, but he pinned me down and tweaked my nipples. I gasped, and he smiled wide. He pinched my nipples again, as he covered my mouth with his. My eyes fluttered closed despite everything, and my hands strayed down his body.

“Take your dress off and bend over the couch,” Riccardo panted against my lips as he popped the buttons off my dress.

I moaned, and did just that. I reached for my pumps, but his hand stopped mine.

“Leave the shoes.” His tenor dropped an octave, and it gave me chills.

I readied myself over the couch, waiting for that inevitable thrust.

“We are going to do honor bondage. I’ll get into detail at a later date, but for now, if I put you in a position, I expect you to hold it. I have nothing with me to keep you in that position, so you are giving me your word that you will hold it. Understand?”

I nodded my head, I already knew about that, but Riccardo pinched my cheeks. “Yes,” I squeaked.

“Keep your hands on the couch, and no matter what, don’t reach back,” he growled.

My pussy clenched at his terms alone. I was soaked and half-naked where anyone could see me. If this wasn’t living life in the fast lane, I didn’t know what was. I assumed the position, and Riccardo maneuvered my legs to suit him. He spread them obscenely, and I knew he could see both my holes with the way I was bent over.

“Good, stay just like that,” he rasped.

I whimpered into the cushions. I didn’t want anyone to hear and interrupt. My mind was in overdrive, and nothing made sense to me. All I wanted was for Riccardo to work his thick package inside of me, sooner rather than later.

“Please,” I gasped.

I felt his tongue on me and jolted in surprise. This was not the experience I was used to. It comforted me that he couldn’t see my face, and I relaxed slightly as he toyed with my lips. He reared back and smacked my ass, and I almost flinched from the impact. Almost. Instead, I turned my head and glared at him.

“What was that for?” I bit back a moan, surprised that it felt so good.

“You moved,” he chuckled.

Riccardo directed us back into position, and set about making me forget my name. By the time he was thrusting his tongue inside of me, my limbs were shaking. I tried so hard not to shift, but I almost couldn’t help myself. My control wasn’t that weak, and my honor wasn’t that loose. I tightened up, and Riccardo pulled back, leaving me crying for more.

“Please, please. I’ll do anything,” I babbled.

“Really? Anything?”

Riccardo sounded like he was enjoying my loss of control.

“Yes, yes, anything,” I begged.

“In that case, you can come as many times as you want, but stay just like this.”

His commands washed over me, and I stilled my squirming. It had been an unconscious reaction on my part, a reaction I could barely control. Riccardo went back to eating me, and I let him hear every gasp, every moan, every whimper. It only spurred him on to taste more of me, until I finally let go. I came so hard, I worried security would rush in from my screams.

Riccardo jumped up. Hold still, Mya. In the back of my mind, I knew exactly what was about to happen. He lined up to my entrance, and I held my breath. It was large and girthy, something I had to get used to every time. Riccardo slid into me with a groan, and my mouth flew open, as I gasped in a mix of pleasure and surprise.

“There’s still more you can take,” he whispered. His voice changed, and was full of sex and lust, a devil in disguise.

“No, it’s too big. I can’t, I can’t,” I argued, nearly incoherent, with his pierced cock buried inside me.

“You can. You will. You are,” he panted. He hit my cervix, and I squealed like a pig getting slaughtered. It was the most unattractive sound I’d ever made in my life.

“Fuck,” he gasped.

Before I could get my bearings, I was being lifted. Riccardo sat his bare behind on the couch, with me straddling him in reverse.

It was then I saw the mirror.

“I need to see your eyes when you come again, darling,” he rasped against my ear.

My entire body shivered in delight, and we weren’t even moving yet. I could see the sheen of sweat coating my skin. The mirror was a standing one that showed everything. The temptation to close my legs blew through me, but Riccardo opened them obscenely wide, denying me modesty while he was buried inside me. I could see him sheathed to the hilt, my body wrapped tightly around his shaft.

Then, he moved.

My universe tilted on its axis, as he bounced me up and down on his dick like I weighed less than a blow-up doll. His Prince Albert added to the sensations deep inside of me. I watched in sheer fascination, as my greedy pussy ate everything he gave me, and begged for more. I tensed up, as my spine felt like it snapped. Riccardo’s fingers pinched my hips, and then he grabbed my shoulder with one hand, and shoved me all the way down.

“Yes, oh my–yes,” I cried out.

As I lost control over my tongue and body, Riccardo was working on my clit. All I could do was hold on and keep myself upright. It was too much. My head dropped back onto his shoulder, and he stood up. He was a machine. He slipped in and out of me, bumping my cervix every single time, and I loved it. I dripped all over his cock. I had never been this wet for someone before.

He gripped my throat, and I gulped from the shot of fear it brought. He didn’t stop slamming me down on him, and I was sure we were going to fall over. But Riccardo used me like I was his plaything, and I loved it. He slapped my clit once, twice, three times, and I flew off the handle. There were screams coming from somewhere. Surely it wasn’t me who was screaming so loud, but the moment I closed my mouth, the silence was overwhelming.

Riccardo was a sweaty, panting mess, and I wasn’t any better. He collapsed on the couch with me still in his lap. This jolted him up inside me, pressing him against my sore cervix, and I yelped from the bite of pain.

“Fuck, yes,” Riccardo grunted. He lifted me off of his cock and spun me in his arms, so I sat sideways across his lap.

I was floating from the high of my orgasm. I didn’t care that I was naked. I didn’t care that someone could catch us. I didn’t even care that I had lost so much control over my body.

If this was what married life was going to be like, then I was at risk of losing my heart.