Passion & Venom (Venom Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  I can cry all I want to, but it won’t make a difference.

  “Move ahead, Gia. Move ahead.” Those were Daddy’s words exactly. Even when I feel low, I have to keep going. Keep pushing. Don’t stop or give up.

  I won’t.

  And that’s the only reason I’m going to this dinner.

  The dining room is full of people when I enter.

  I avoid frowning as I spot some of Draco’s men standing in the corner. They aren’t dressed as nicely as I am. Most of them are wearing brown or tan cargo pants with way too many pockets, black or gray T-shirts, and black gloves that don’t cover their fingers.

  His mom is sitting in her usual spot, wearing a brown gown, and Francesca is wearing a sheer white dress. Her hair is in loose, dark waves around her shoulders, her eyes down, focused on the empty plate in front of her.

  She glances up and I force a smile.

  She doesn’t return it.

  I feel the men looking at me, some of them grumbling to the next in Spanish, looking me up and down in my dress.

  “Is that the bitch?” one of them with a slick black ponytail asks. He scans me thoroughly.

  “That’s her. Stupid cunt that got Pico bludgeoned by Jefe.”

  “What the fuck is he keeping her here for?”

  “Probably same fucking reason he kept the bitch up there. To fuck her when he feels like it. She has a nice ass, though. I’d fuck the shit out of her myself. I don’t blame him for keeping her too.”

  They all think I don’t understand.

  Fucking scumbags.

  They both chortle but I ignore them, making my way towards the head of the table. I take my seat—two chairs down from Francesca—and place my hands in my lap.

  I look around for Draco but he’s nowhere to be found.

  I peek at the clock. He has five minutes to arrive.

  Those five minutes pass by rather quickly, and when he walks in from the kitchen, the butlers come out right behind him.

  In his native tongue, he demands his men to sit and they all pull out chairs at the end of the table, a few seats away from us.

  Draco pulls out his chair. He’s changed clothes—a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black dress pants. He’s wearing the skull ring again, his black hair pushed back. He’s gotten it cut. It’s shorter on the sides and in the back, long and wavy at the top.

  One loose strand has fallen onto his forehead and when he rakes it back and points his gaze on me, I feel my breath dwindle. The scary part is I don’t know if it’s in a good or a bad way.

  Holding his hands out, he picks up his gaze and carries it across the table.

  I didn’t notice before that classical music is playing softly from the speakers.

  His men notice him trying to get their attention and they stop talking immediately, putting all of their concentration on him.

  “Thank you,” he murmurs in Spanish, dropping his arms. “Tonight is special. Want to know why?” He flashes a wicked smile, but no one responds to his rhetorical question. “Because my guest is finally able to join me for dinner. She had to learn her lesson during these past few days, but I think she’s starting to understand.”

  The men’s deep laughter rides down the bare skin on my back.

  “Francesca.” Draco looks down at her and she perks up, looking him straight in the eye.

  “Si, Jefe?”

  “Trade seats with Gianna.”

  She freezes, her entire face going blank. She looks at him as if he’s lost his mind. When he cocks a stern brow, she swallows hard and slides back in her chair. It makes a loud screeching noise across the floor.

  I stare up at her as she watches her feet, waiting for me to rise as well.

  “Gianna, up.” Draco’s deep voice fills the dining room.

  I stand hesitantly, side-eyeing Francesca. She’s completely avoiding my eyes now. I hope she doesn’t think I asked for this, because I didn’t. My only wish is to be as far away from that venomous monster as humanly possible.

  I sit down in her seat, fidgeting when it’s pushed forward by one of the butlers. The butler starts to push in Francesca’s chair but she swats him away, bringing the chair in herself.

  “How does that feel?” Draco coos to me.

  “Fine.”

  “That’s a good niñita.” He takes his seat, and then cues the butlers. As soon as they get the order, three men with rolling carts walk out of the kitchen and start to place plates in front of us.

  They aren’t covered this time. I get an eyeful of the grilled asparagus, rice, baked salmon, and on the side are warm tortillas. The men at the end of the table rub their hands together, ready to devour their meals. Some of them already have their forks in hand.

  A butler places a bowl of salad in between Draco, his mother, and me. Another at the end where the men are. I’m sure they won’t even eat it.

  Once the red wine is poured, we are encouraged to eat by the boss himself. As I eat, I can feel him watching me. His gaze is hot and heavy.

  He’s eating slowly. I avoid him at all costs.

  I hate him for what he did earlier.

  If I’d had the option to not show up for this dinner I wouldn’t have.

  “Do you know why I let my men eat dinner with me?” Draco asks quietly, leaning closer to me.

  I stare down at my fish. “No, I don’t know.” And I don’t care.

  “Because they deserve it.”

  “How? By killing husbands?”

  I finally meet his eyes and they are amused. “That’s a great benefit,” he says. “But not the only reason why. These men here—” he points at them with his fork “—they will do whatever I ask of them. They respect me, they handle my dirty work when need be, they keep the money rolling in, and in return they are rewarded. I don’t mind taking care of anyone as long as they are doing their best to take care of me. Now, if one of them gets stupid and does what Pico did…well, you saw what happened. Idiots like him rot in cages until they can prove their worth again.”

  I swallow the hunk of tortilla I just bit off. “Is that where he is now? In that dungeon?”

  “Yes.”

  I shouldn’t be asking after what that son-of-a-bitch did to me… but… “When will he be out?”

  Draco sits back in his chair, picking up a tortilla and grabbing a handful of rice with it. “I don’t know. Whenever I see fit, I presume.”

  I look away, taking a bite of the fish.

  “Francesca,” Draco calls, and she brings her head up to look at him. “How is your dinner tonight?”

  “It’s great, Jefe.” Her voice is deflated—lifeless, emotionless.

  I side-eye her again.

  “That’s good.”

  Draco sips his wine and then stands up rapidly, clanking his glass with the edge of his fork. The men at the end of the table stop chatting to look at him.

  I didn’t even notice before that Patanza is down there with them. For some reason she blends in tonight with her hair tied behind her back, the cap on her head, and her baggy black T-shirt on.

  Bain is sitting at the end of the table now. His eyes are on me, intense and desperate.

  I pull my gaze away, doing my best not to flip him off. Pig.

  “That’s better.” Draco motions for Bain to come up and he stands, walking past my chair and meeting up to the boss. Draco murmurs something to him in Spanish that I can’t quite hear, and when Bain takes off, he begins to speak. “As you all can see, my new arrival is quite beautiful.”

  They all drop their gazes to me, and those savage guises arrive again. God, they are pigs. All of them.

  “She’s so beautiful you want a taste, right?”

  “Fuck yeah!” one of them shouts with a mouth full of food.

  Draco’s smile evaporates immediately. “Well, you can get that thought out of your fucking minds right now. From this moment on, she will not be talked to and she will definitely not be touched. If I find out that any of you touche
d her in anyway, I will be sure to break your fucking hands off and stuff every single one of your grubby fingers down your fucking throats.” The men are dead silent as they stare at him. “Is that fucking clear?” Draco barks.

  “Sí, Jefe!” they all say at once.

  “Good.”

  Bain comes back and when he meets up to the table I notice he has a black case in hand. He places it down on the table and then pops it open, revealing a red type of gun.

  It’s not the sort of gun that shoots bullets. This gun has a needle at the end of it.

  “So now that we know that, it clearly means she is here to stay.”

  What?!

  The blood feels like it’s draining from my body as he picks it up. The meal I’m trying to digest seems to build right back up. I feel sick as he walks around his chair and demands me to stand up.

  “Draco,” I plead.

  “Stand, Gianna. Now.”

  Bain pulls my chair out, leaving me no choice but to make a move. I stand on weak, wobbly legs, watching the gun with the needle. He inserts something very tiny into it and then steps forward.

  “Turn around, niñita.”

  “W-what is that?” My voice trembles.

  “This, Gianna,” he breathes, resting a hand on my shoulder to spin me around. “Is so you can’t run away. You are here to stay, and if you try, I will easily find you.”

  “What is it?” I ask again, feebler this time.

  “A tracker. Hold still.” He grips my shoulder and pulls a few loose strands of my hair away. After that, he slides the back of my dress over. Rubbing my shoulder, he murmurs, “It will sting just a bit, but don’t worry. You’ve been through much worse.”

  The sharp end of the needle presses into the soft flesh right beneath my armpit. It sinks in and I hiss through my teeth, but I can hardly feel it.

  I only hiss because now I really know…there is no way out of here.

  Francesca was right, and as I look at her, I realize she didn’t tell me this on purpose. He’s done this to her too. He’s made a tool out of her just to demonstrate his control—his power—but now it has switched to me.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask when he spins me back around. I rub the area, scratch it, but I can’t even feel it. “How deep did you put it in there?”

  “Deep enough that you can’t cut it out without hitting something that will keep you alive.”

  “You are a fucking pig,” I snap at him.

  His face doesn’t change. “I’ve been called worse. Now, sit the fuck down before you piss me off again.”

  I hold his gaze, on the verge of tears. He doesn’t dare blink—not even a twitch. He simply stares back, and I know if I don’t sit, he’ll make an example out of me right here in this dining room. Right in front of his men.

  I step away and sit, yanking my chair forward and staring down at my half-eaten food. My blood feels like it’s broiling, my head like it’s about to explode. My heart is thundering in my chest, and my palms are sweaty now.

  I’m trying to hold in all of my rage—all of my emotion—but it’s nearly impossible. He’s a jackass. I have officially been trapped in hell, and Draco is the devil himself.

  Draco puts the gun back in the case and sends Bain off with it.

  It burns where he inserted the needle.

  I have the urge to scratch at it, but I don’t. I don’t need any more attention being put on me.

  “Let’s finish eating,” Draco insists, sitting back down and shooting his eyebrows up as he looks at his mother.

  She studies her son, and it’s like she questions how he became this way.

  Her stare is blank, her eyes so lost and confused.

  This poor woman.

  She’s raised a monster and she probably didn’t even realize it until it was too late.

  As everyone eats, I watch Draco closely as he talks to his mother about his plans tomorrow. He’s so sure of himself that it pisses me off. His hair tumbles onto his forehead again, and I want to slice it off with the knife he’s holding.

  When he turns his head and meets my eyes, I realize I’ve been staring at him for too long. He points down at my plate. “Eat your food, Gianna. I wouldn’t want you to go without again.” He smirks.

  When I pick up the fork, I squeeze it in my hands until I feel the edge of it pushing into my skin.

  I feel the sting, but it doesn’t hurt me as much as it should. I look down at my lonely ring finger, the tan line there. My vision becomes blurry the longer I look at it.

  But I eat, and pretend there’s nothing wrong.

  After dinner is over, the men are leaving the dining room to make way for the brown shed. I assume it’s their hangout spot—where they smoke and boast while picking on Ronaldo.

  Draco stands from his chair and leaves, glancing back once at me before stepping out.

  Francesca rushes out as well and I see her run down the hallway after him.

  All that’s left in the dining room is his mother and me.

  I’m finishing my wine, knowing damn well that I need it in order to relax and hopefully get a good night’s rest. His mom has finished eating, but her attention is on me and it’s making me feel out of place.

  I finish off my wine and then stand, deciding to leave immediately. As I push my chair in, she calls after me.

  “Wait…” She stands up slowly, and her gray hair sways as she comes in my direction. When she’s less than a step away, she grips my shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes. “I wanted to wait until he was gone to say this. Listen to me closely.” Her eyes are just as brown as his, but much gentler.

  “Give yourself to him if you want to survive. It is that simple. Don’t be stubborn. All he will do is knock that stubbornness out of you and then get rid of you once he feels like he’s won.” Her head shakes as she sighs. “My son can be hard to handle and even harder to seek compassion with, but he is that way for a reason. He may seem cold, but if someone can dig deeper, touch his soul, maybe…well, maybe he will change.”

  “Change?” I spit. “How can he ever change? He killed my husband. He took my wedding ring and it was all I had left.” I yank away from her and her eyes spread wide. “I can’t forgive him. Your son? He’s a monster and you know it. He doesn’t have any compassion. He’s heartless and cruel and there is no changing someone like him.”

  “That’s what you think, but you don’t know him.” She waves a hand. “He admires you a lot more than you think. He has been talking to me about you. And about your father.”

  I narrow my eyes and pause before speaking again. “You knew my father?”

  “Sí…I knew him well enough. Your mother too. He was a good man, and that man is the only reason you are alive right now. So do as I say. Give yourself to him—all of you—and don’t hold back. You want to get on his good side, you do as he says. You please and obey him. I would hate to see something happen to Lion’s only child. I’m sure he raised you to be smarter than this—what you’re doing now.”

  Lion? How does she know that name? That name was sacred for Dad. A secret name only people that were close to him knew and understood.

  I look at her…speechless.

  I don’t blink.

  I can hardly breathe.

  She knew my parents, which means Draco knew them too. But if that were the case, why would he have his men kill Toni? Toni was close to Daddy too. Daddy trusted Toni.

  “Survival is key here. Maybe, if you do right by him, he will do right by you and he will let you go. He’ll know you aren’t happy sooner or later. My son has a heart in there somewhere. He tries to cover it up with his demands and his punishments, but the heart is there. Francesca has tried to win him over, but it didn’t work out for her because he doesn’t care about her…but I think that you have a fighting chance. You have potential. You are beautiful and unique and unlike Francesca, you aren’t afraid of him.”

  “No,” I say boldly. “I’m not.”

  “Then you are al
ready one step ahead. Think of it this way: your obedience could mean your freedom.” She turns her back to me after that, leaving her words in the air.

  When she’s long gone, I stand still, my eyes trained on the floor.

  The sad thing is, she’s right. And I know it, but my pride is too damn thick for me to see through it right now.

  If I don’t drop this pride—if I don’t at least try—I won’t win.

  He knows it. I know it. Everyone knows it.

  I walk out of the dining room and make way for the stairs. When I’m inside my bedroom, I unzip the dress and step out of it. I walk to the closet and take down a nightgown.

  But it’s as I brush my teeth that I finally know what I need to do.

  What I should have done all along.

  The signs have been there.

  The way he tiptoes past my bedroom late at night.

  Making Francesca eat me out in his art gallery for his pleasure.

  Kissing me so deeply he could feel my orgasm riding through his body.

  Giving me her seat at dinner.

  Tracking me so I can’t escape or leave unless he wants me to.

  Punishing me severely when I’ve done wrong. Rewarding me handsomely when I’ve finally done right.

  In order to receive the ultimate reward—my freedom—I must do what everyone has been telling me to do. I have to do something I know I will hate.

  I must submit to Draco Molina.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Day 11

  Sunlight has swept across my bedroom.

  My curtains are drawn wide open, revealing the shimmering, turquoise water.

  Sitting up with haste, I search the bedroom, wondering who in the hell has been here.

  Everything looks the same. No one out of the ordinary is waiting for me to wake up.

  But there is something here that wasn’t last night.

  Pushing out of bed, I tiptoe towards the black vanity. My mouth parts as I get close to the flowers in the vase. I’ve never seen flowers this dark before.

  They are a blood-red color with a splash of brown and a hint of lavender. I touch the velvety petals, speculating where they’ve come from.