The Mobster's Whore

Hello, everyone. I am so sorry for making you wait this long for the next chapter. Life got in the way, but the last few chapters will be published within the next few days. ❤

Thank you so much for your patience and I hope the story was worth the wait. This chapter contains violence, so if this is a trigger of any kind, I do apologise.

Reach out if you have any feedback

😘😘

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My hands were sweating.

Lips trembling.

My heart was racing in my chest.

An erratic, inconsistent pounding that did nothing to calm the fear and dread that was rushing through me.

I tried to inhale deeply, but my lungs weren't having it. My breathing came in short, frantic bursts. I was too agitated to do anything but sit in my plane seat and panic, fiddling anxiously with the hem of my designer dress.

I glanced up suddenly when the flight attendant leaned in to repeat her question, her brows knitting together in concern. She placed a warm, comforting hand on my shoulder and asked, "Mrs. Hudson, are you alright?"

Absently, I nodded. I forced a small smile, hoping that would ease her concern enough to leave me alone. "I'm fine, Annie. Thank you."

"Perhaps a drink? Your usual?"

The idea of alcohol made my stomach turn, and I swallowed to fight off the wave of nausea. I shook my head frantically, then whispered, "How much further until we take off? Aren't we supposed to have left by now?"

A smile, eerily polite and pitying.

"Last minute change of plans, ma'am. Mr. Hudson asked that we hold the plane," she explained.

My heart stopped beating for a full moment, my head spinning furiously. My vision blurred at the edges until I was forced to press my knuckles to my eyes, fighting off the tears of fear and frustration.

"Mrs. Hudson-"

I rose from my seat, pushing Annie out of the way and hurrying towards the exit on wobbly knees. Before I could make it off the plane, I spotted a convoy of black, nondescript vehicles fast approaching. For a second, I considered running out onto the tarmac and making a run for it. I chewed on my lip, calculating the distance from the bottom of the stairs to freedom.

But then what? I would be caught in seconds, and Edward's men would drag me back to the plane kicking and screaming. I'd simply be delaying the inevitable. I would have to face my husband sooner or later anyway.

I took a few steps back, closed my eyes and balled my hands into fists at my sides. I drew a deep breath, forcing my heart to slow to a steady pace. Calmer now, I opened my eyes and turned on my heel, hurrying towards the back of the plane. I heard the doors of the SUVs slam shut, and marched into the bedroom where I quietly closed the door. I used the few moments I had left to make myself presentable, brushing my hands down my front to straighten the cotton of my white, A-line dress.

Voices, low and muffled through the bedroom door. I pushed off the wood and walked across the room to the mirror, sitting down in front of the vanity. I reached for my cosmetics bag, removed several products to tidy myself up before I had to answer for my actions. But how the fuck was I supposed to hide the terror and sorrow that shone in my eyes? Or cover the sweat on my brow, the quivering of my lip? I couldn't-

The door opened, my husband walking into the room with his usual arrogance and superiority. I watched his reflection as he closed the door behind him, his gaze roaming over me casually. The moment was so familiar that I completely forgot that we were in a private plane and not back in our bedroom in Miami. Our eyes locked in the mirror as he approached, his jaw clenching with each step taken.

Finally, his hands rested on my shoulders as they always did, the fingers digging into my skin as he began kneading the tension away, his touch unnervingly gentle.

"Hello, wife. Sleep well?"

I lower my contour sponge slowly, willing my hand not to shake and give away how terrified I actually was. My expression is carefully blank as I nod, then I force myself to smile before replying, "Yes, very. And you?"

He says nothing.

He just stands there and watches me with narrowed eyes, his breath quickening with every silent second that passes.

And then...

"I did, actually. I was reliving this memory of you and your best friend, Aurora - remember her? - fucking while I watched. The best memory I have of you, I think, but that was cut short when I received a call this morning. Apparently - and get this - Aldine is missing. Can you believe it?"

I parted my lips slightly, my eyes widening with carefully practised innocence.

An act. But a damn convincing one.

Such a pity that shit wasn't going to cut it this time. I could feel his rage despite his casual tone and I knew it was only a matter of time before he completely lost his shit.

Again.

"Goodness me, I cannot. Do you know what happened?"

As if pleased that I'd asked that particular question, he bent over slightly so he could glare at me through the mirror. His smile stretched across his face, and then he turned to look directly at me.

"I was hoping you would tell me, pet." The air between us suddenly crackled with electrifying tension, thickened by his diabolical rage and his biting tone. "After all, you were with him all night. Screwing and screaming like a bunch of fevered animals well into the night. Why, if I'd known how wild and passionate you could be, responding to pain and degradation like a ravenous little slut, I wouldn't have bothered stepping out on you."

I turned away, unable to look him in the eye. Unable to bear his unflinching glare. But he reached for my jaw, his fingers digging into both cheeks painfully and pulled until I was forced to look at his reflection once more. Despite the sudden violence, my expression gave nothing away. I almost seemed unbothered by the rage burning in his eyes, uncaring.

"There is no need for unkind words, Edward."

"Come now. This is no time for delicate sensibilities, wife. I thought this kind of talk turned you on. After all, you responded with such passion when he-"

I pulled away, bracing for the pain of his hold, wincing when his fingers dug into my skin before finally pulling free. I marched across the room, hurrying towards the door so I could escape him. But it's locked, and the key clatters loudly on the vanity as he tosses it carelessly on the wood. I froze, my hands tightening on the handle as I braced myself for what was about to happen.

"After he defiled you with his cock, you encouraged him to carve his fucking name in your flesh like a brand. You let him stake his claim on what belongs to me, and then... You killed him. Stabbed him, plunging the blade of the knife into his chest and back with unexpected precision."

I turned around, my movements ever graceful and calm. My hands loose at my sides, I took a deep breath and replied, "You told me to keep him busy."

"Exactly! I never said you should kill him! Why did you do it?" he demanded, his voice rising.

I remained silent, refusing to respond to his fury. But it only riles him up even more, his eyes darkening with a manic anger that even I have never witnessed before.

"Why!"

I jumped a bit, startled by the sudden growl. I shifted uneasily then, afraid that he was getting closer to that terrifying edge. I chose not to respond, thinking that would somehow save me from his wrath. Hoping that I could placate him into a calmer mood, then convince him to let me leave New York. But it doesn't. If anything, it's the final push that sends him over the edge. I barely had time to prepare myself as his long legs ate up the distance between us, his steps muffled by the thick carpet.

My back slammed against the cold solidity of the door at the same time that his hand grabbed my throat. He squeezed tight, cutting off the precious air I needed. Just long enough to remind me of my weakness, to show me he held the power.

"You knew exactly what you were doing when you stabbed him. You knew killing him would ruin everything and I'd lose control of his empire."

I swallowed.

"Why?"

The last word growled through clenched teeth, Edward glaring down at me. His fingers tightened further around my neck in warning when I didn't respond, and I hurriedly licked my lips before speaking.

"I don't know," I whispered, my voice soft and deceptively sweet.

His eyes narrowed slightly, silently accusing. "We both know the fucking reason. But you can't say it, though, can you?"

He emphasises the last two words by slamming a closed fist inches away from my head and leaning close to growl at me through clenched teeth. "And the way you react to him... It's almost as if you... as if you enjoyed the things he did to you. As if you fucking liked it!"

My expression likely changes to frightful dread and I bite back a sob. Edward pressed the full length of his body against mine, a silent reminder of his power, his dominance.

"N-No, Edward. It was-'

"I watched everything. I saw the way you fell to your knees before him, swallowing his cock as if you couldn't get enough. I listened to you moan as he ate your cunt, licked your asshole. I know how you knelt on his bed and allowed him to fuck you like a whore!"

"You said to distract him. I was doing what you-"

His free hand pushed between our bodies, fingers seeking out the letters I'd asked Dominic to carve into my skin last night. He pressed his fingers on the fresh wound, smirking when I winced in pain.

"'Wouldn't it be easier to just mark me properly'?" he repeated, spitting my own words back at me. "'In a way that will actually last for a long time...'"

He relented, moving his fingers to my pussy instead, which he cupped in the large palm of his hand. He leaned forward, taking up all the space so all I could see and hear and feel was him.

"Does he touch you better than I do? Does he fuck you better, wife?"

"No," I whispered.

"No, what?"

"No, Edward, he doesn't."

"He doesn't feel better than me, does he?" my husband demanded, his fingers trembling around my throat.

"No, Edward."

He let go, and turned me around suddenly.

A forceful hand in my hair, pushing my face against the smooth wood, the other lifting the hem of my dress over my ass to expose the lace panties I was wearing. He tapped at the inside of my ankles, forcing my legs wider. I grunted in pain when he landed a solid smack on my bare ass, squeezing and fondling while I struggled feebly. His nails dug deeper into my scalp, and he leaned in to whisper in my ear, "I want to hear you beg for my cock the same way you begged for his."

"Edward, this-"

"BEG. FOR. IT!" he demanded, spanking my pussy again, and again, until I was actually trembling from over-stimulation.

"Please, Edward..."

He let go of my hair, then tugged at the straps of her dress, tearing at the material until the matching bra was exposed. He yanked it down, reaching out to grab and squeeze my naked tits violently, making me gasp from the pain. I heard his zip lower, the hard, smooth length of his cock brushed up against my ass. I am confused by my reaction to his handling, my eagerness for his cock.

Why was I allowing this? Had my time in Aldine's employ really turned me into a whore? Or was I just so greedy for some kind of affection after what I'd done that I would even accept it from Edward?

He pushed me forward until my tits pressed against his arm, my nipples rubbing against the fabric of his suit. As the broad head of his cock brushed against my entrance, his hips bucking desperately in an attempt to slide into me, I was assaulted by the memory of Dominic's face...

His touch on me, the way his tattooed fingers brushed over my skin before he leaned in and kissed me.

I tensed, my body stiffening at my husband's touch.

"Stop, Edward."

He froze, cock teasing between my damp lips. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head towards him so my back arches. He glared down at me, his body trembling with lust and jealousy and possessiveness.

"Do not deny me this, wife."

"I don't want this from you."

"But you do with him?"

"I was doing my job," I argued softly.

I sighed with relief when he pulled away from me, then gasped when he whirled me back around and slammed me hard against the wall. He punched me hard in the stomach, and before I could crash to the floor, Edward pulled me back up by my hair and held me in place.

The pain shooting through me was so sudden and intense it knocked the breath out of me. I kept my arms wrapped around my middle to protect myself from any more blows. He would never hit me in the face. He never hit me where others could see.

"You are not leaving this place. You will remain here, where I can keep a fucking eye on you."

I shouldn't provoke him. Not when he was this angry. But I must have a death wish, because I glared up at him with hatred and rage and said, "Scared, Edward? That I'll end up in another man's bed? Someone who can last long enough to ensure I actually have an orgasm?"

My words must catch him off guard, because he blinked in surprise. I knew he didn't like me cutting at his masculinity like that, and he would react the only way he knew how. He backhanded me across the face, the force whipping my head sideways. He slapped me again for good measure, and I sobbed in pain.

"You are a filthy little whore, aren't you? Getting off on being degraded like this," he growled, grabbing my jaw and pinning me to the wall. We glared at each other for a while, his rage burning into something far more dangerous and lethal.

"Now that I know what a hot lay you are, I'll come home every night and bend you over like a little slut and fuck you until you're begging me to stop. It's such a damn pity I won't get to fuck this sweet-" he reached around to grab my bare cheek "-perfect ass of yours today. But I will soon. You clearly need to be reminded to whom the fuck you really belong."

I expected more violence, but he surprised me by grabbing the underwear still dangling between my legs and tearing it off my body. Almost lazily, he examined the crotch - damp with my arousal - and then slowly smiled at me. After balling up the lace garment, he pocketed it in his slacks.

Looked at me.

Looked down at the carving of Dominic's initials on my skin.

"I dare you to leave that there until tonight. I dare you. It'll give me a reason to break that renewed spirit, to crush whatever fight he may have fucked into you."

I shivered at the threat, knowing that he meant it. And before I could back away or respond, he kissed me, the gesture rough and urgent. He bit down on my lower lip with avenging force, drawing blood, and I pulled back from him with a disgusted frown. He traced my jaw slowly, almost intimately.

"Due to your reckless, stupid stunt this morning, I'm relinquishing control of the cartel to Fuentes until we return to Miami. Thanks to you, I'll have my work cut out for me, but we'll wade these waters together, wife."

He pushed my face away, and walked towards the door. With his hand on the lock, he glanced back at me over his shoulder and said, "You better fix your fucking face before stepping out. Five minutes, or I'll come back in here and get you."

He slammed the door shut, leaving me alone. With him gone, my knees wobbled beneath me and I collapsed onto the ground painfully. My lungs fought for air at the same time my eyes burned with unshed tears, my heart kicking hard against my ribs.

It took every bit of strength to get back up, to wash my face, then sift through the dresses in the closet in search of an appropriate outfit. I looked for the baby blue wrap dress I always kept on the plane, frowned when I realised it was gone. I removed a soft pink sheath instead, tight yet soft, with an open back and a flattering bow at the small of my back.

I "fixed my face" by applying my statement burgundy lipstick to conceal the split lip, some powder to my cheeks to hide the bruise just as a knock came to the door. With a sigh, I pushed a pair of Cartier sunglasses onto my face and searched for one of my favourite clutches.

It, too, was missing.

So was my perfume and the yellow diamond ring Edward bought me for my twentieth. I grabbed a white clutch bag to throw my shit into, threw on a coat and slid on some gloves. Annie startled back a step when I opened the door, and stepped out of my way to let me pass.

"Annie."

"Mrs. Hudson."

I turned to look at her. "Since you're already fucking my husband, I'll ask you to refrain from stealing my clothes. I expect all my belongings returned before the next time we see one another."

A purse of the lips, a gesture of defiance that told me everything I needed to know about her relationship with Edward. But as pissed as he was at me, he would not stand for one of his flings to disrespect me this way. I was his wife, a fact he consistently threw in my face.

"Edward said they were gifts."

"He would never give you that ring. It belongs to me."

I walked past her to the door, where Luis stood waiting for me. He followed me down the stairs and onto the tarmac to Edward's Bentley. I slid into the back with his assistance, masking the pain that exploded through me when I folded my body into the seat. Edward was on his phone, but his gaze immediately snapped in my direction when the door slammed shut, lingering over my face in case I didn't obey his orders. Content, he looked back out the window as the cars took off.

"I want her gone." I broke the silence after his phone call ended, my gaze locked on my naked ring finger.

"Who?"

"Annie. She stole from me. Said you gifted my belongings to her."

Silence. I do not look at him, lest he realize how petty I'm being. Exercising what little control I have to ruin his fun.

"Fired or killed?"

"Just fired, thank you. And I want my things back. I want you to get them for me."

He grunted, acquiescing to my terms. "You will behave yourself."

I nodded. "I also want to keep studying."

"No."

"Or I will run."

More silence. Longer this time.

"I'll kill you before you make it out of the city."

"You need my father's allies to maintain power in the South. If I die, they'll turn on you. The same will happen if I run. I want to keep studying."

Movement, subtle and unhurried. The soft clink of metal as Edward took my left hand in his, and I watched as he slid my chains back in place. First, the round eternity wedding band with small, blue diamonds. Then the more impressive engagement infinity band with a rose centre piece - a symbol of his cartel. Only Edward would buy me a ring that celebrated him more than me.

"mi esposa, mi corazón, mi alma" - words he had whispered to me every anniversary, words I carried with me on my dainty finger.

They were beautiful, truly. But the romantic notion didn't change the fact that those words were engraved into pretty chains.

"I will retrieve your belongings. She will apologise to you. She will be fired. I will allow you to finish your degree, provided we continue to share a bed and you fulfil all your wifely duties."

"You want to fuck me."

"Like the whore you are."

"Fuck you."

"Yes?"

When I did not answer, Edward took my hand in his, a gesture that made my skin crawl. I do not dare move my hand, though, for fear of his reaction. So I let his hand envelop my own, his thumb tracing an intimate path down my palm.

"I will allow your disobedience another day, but no more. You will not ruin this new endeavour for me, do you understand? I won't have it."

I wanted to cry, but somehow I managed to whisper, "Yes, Edward."

A few minutes later, we parked in front of a large, impressive building. It was majestic in its stance, as if daring everything around it not to bow to its superiority. I waited for my door to be opened before getting out, slipping my gloved hand into Edward's. He led me towards the door, his hand placed delicately on the small of my back.