Shackled Hearts Read online

  Copyright © 2021 by T.L Smith

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this e-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.

  Created with Vellum

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This e-book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Cover – RBA Design

  Photographer - Miguelanxofoto

  Edited – Swish Editing

  Editor - Ink Machine Editing & Nice Girl Naught Edits

  Contents

  Variety Gossip

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Variety Gossip

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Variety Gossip

  About the Author

  Also by T.L Smith

  Betrayed, deceived, broken.

  They are the only words used to describe who I have become.

  Make no mistake, I let this happen.

  But do you want to know the thing about letting someone into your life?

  It can be undone.

  Lucas Rossi may think he has won this round.

  But I have news for him.

  I’m going to win every other one he sends my way.

  My heart may be in shackles, but my head has perfect clarity.

  Variety Gossip

  The City’s Bad Boy

  * * *

  The word is the bad boy of all bad boys has done something unforgivable.

  Does anyone happen to know what it is?

  Because his pretty new toy is mad.

  So, so mad.

  Will he be able to recover from something so… bad?

  Chapter One

  Chanel

  Those eyes that are made in the depths of the woods stare back at me.

  How could you not want those eyes on you in all aspects of life?

  Even when it comes with the bad.

  So, so much bad.

  Hands touch me, and I feel it in my core.

  Why is it the bad always feels so damn good?

  It’s a trick.

  One I willingly fall for every single damn time.

  And I will keep falling.

  Just like she did.

  Unless…

  “Mia per sempre.” There are those words again, whispered into my ear and sending shivers over every hair follicle of my body.

  I hate him.

  But I don’t.

  “Mia per sempre.”

  My hand moves to touch him, only I get nothing but air.

  “What do we say when we are a good girl?” His breath tickles my face.

  “Daddy.” Each side of his sinister mouth lifts into a smirk, and he nods in approval.

  “That’s right, mia per sempre.” He reaches out like he’s going to touch my face, but his hands skirt around it. “Now, tell me, have you been a good girl?”

  I bite the inside of my cheek.

  And something pulls at the back of my head.

  A memory.

  What is it?

  “I only reward those who have been good.” His voice sounds… strained.

  “What…” My head starts shaking. What is he talking about? He rewards me and then punishes me. Doesn’t he? But I like his punishments.

  “Mia per sempre.”

  Again.

  Why does he keep on saying that? What is wrong with him?

  “Lucas.”

  I watch as his lips purse, and he tsks me.

  “I think it’s best you don’t speak unless asked to.”

  Ha.

  That’s a no.

  I am not that kind of woman.

  And I never will be.

  “Do you plan to kill me?” Something cold hits me, and a shiver racks my body.

  “You’ve asked me that before, mia per sempre.”

  I have, but why can I not remember the answer?

  “Brody,” I say, stepping back from him. Looking down at my bare feet, I see blood on the floor. “I need to go to Brody.”

  “Why?” His single word hits me hard.

  “Because he is my brother.”

  “But what am I?” His voice rings through the fog in my mind.

  I shake my head.

  What is Lucas to me? I don’t even know.

  How can I not know? He is the only man to have given me pleasure.

  Does that count?

  One of the only men to defend me who isn’t related to me. He is the only person who sees me. Even in the bad, I know he sees something different in me.

  Something I don’t even see.

  He’s morally in the gray area.

  And I want him.

  But at the same time, I don’t.

  The internal struggle is next level, and it’s hard to work through the conflict in my mind.

  “It wouldn’t be hard if it was simple,” Lucas whispers.

  I look up to see my brother standing there. How did…

  “This is a dream,” I breathe out, realization hitting me. Lifting my hand to touch the back of my head, I feel wetness. Shifting my hand in front of my eyes, all I see is red—blood.

  Lucas’s father, that fucked-up man, who also created another fucked-up human, hit me?

  “I wonder, mia per sempre…” He pauses. “Can you wake up?”

  Hands that once provided pleasure now push me roughly.

  Over the edge.

  I feel myself falling.

  Then I see my mother, the way her dull hair, the same as mine, seems to float in the air. She is twirling with Brody in her arms, spinning him to the point where I know when she stops, he’ll be sick, and I’ll have to clean it up.

  Then I see my father, sitting at the table, looking at the bills with a bottle of whiskey in his hand and a sneer on his face.

  Both sets of eyes fall to me.

  Both stop.

  And then…

  … I wake.

  Chapter Two

  Chanel

  Have you ever woken and thought, Is this my life? How did I get here? What put me here?

  Okay, that last question I know the answer to.

  Lucas Rossi.

  That asshole.

  Was this his plan all along?

  What a fuckhead.

  Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I still see them—my parents.

  “You’re awake. No need to hide it. Your breathing has changed.” I open my eyes. Malik. He’s sitting in a seat opposite of where I lie on a bed. Glancing around, I have no idea where we are, but it’s a nice room. Much more than I can afford, that’s for sure.

  My head hurts, and my hands are tied together in front of me. I’m able to sit, so I scoot backward and push myself up against the headboard.

  His eyes track every one of my movements.

  Every last one, tracing every inch of me. br />
  I can see the resemblance to his son now that I look at him. Lucas is better looking, though. Absolutely no doubt about that whatsoever.

  But where they differ is…

  … Malik gives me creepy vibes. Ones where I would go the other way if I were passing him on the sidewalk.

  Where Lucas just gives straight-up fuck-off vibes. He doesn’t want your company unless he seeks it out. The natural appeal is there for Lucas. If you walked past him, you couldn’t help but glance, no matter how risky it was.

  He is beautiful.

  What on earth he saw in me, I will never know. But he did see something, and my hope is that he never does again. I’ve learned my lesson. I always knew to stay away from dangerous men, and calling him a dangerous man is an understatement. And yet, I willingly walked straight into his place, knowing who owned it.

  I wonder…

  … I will always wonder.

  But wondering can be a dangerous thing.

  What if I’d let Brody be a man and work as he wanted with no interference? What if I hadn’t been so protective of him? Would things have been different?

  Would the now be different?

  Rough hands grasp my head and turn it to face Malik. I keep my eyes closed, which pisses him off even more. He slaps me, hard, across my cheek. Still, I don’t open my eyes, even though they’re watering behind the lids from the harsh sting.

  “If I knew you would be this much of a difficult bitch, I would have killed you. That would have made my life so much simpler.”

  My eyes spring open at Malik’s cruel words.

  “Or, you know… you could have not wanted someone who doesn’t want you in return.”

  Malik’s grip tightens on my face, his fingers sure to leave bruises in their place.

  “You want me.”

  I spit in his face, but he doesn’t relent as I watch the saliva run down his cheek. I force my next words out through a clenched jaw, “I put a protective order against you. On what God’s green earth would make you think that means I want you? I never wanted to be around you. You are filth.”

  “If I’m such filth, then why did you give it to my son for free?” His eyes go wider, a fire burning in them that’s aimed directly at me, the intensity so strong I can feel the burn.

  “Does that bother you so much? That I like the way he fucks over you?”

  His hand drops away from my face.

  “That I prefer him over you?” I taunt again. I’m not afraid of this asshole. Silly, I know. But when I look at him, I don’t see a scary monster, I see someone who needs help. Fucked-up help, and lots of it.

  “I could bring him in here. Maybe I could make him fuck you, and then you’ll be begging for me. You say I’m filth, but my son is worse than me. I have a fascination with hookers, you see.”

  I don’t answer his taunts. There is no point.

  He nods to me and stands, leaving me on the bed. At least he hasn’t tied me to it like his son did.

  “Ah, so that makes you quiet. Maybe that’s what you want? A little father-son action. I hear you call him Daddy. Do you want to call me that?”

  My eyes lock on to his, my brows pulling together, but I don’t move nor do I say anything else.

  He doesn’t deserve my words.

  Because he is filth.

  Worse than slime on a putrid lake.

  “I don’t kill my fucks, but he does, yet you still want him?” Malik’s head drops to the side. Again, I choose to remain silent. He huffs and walks to the door, looking back at me before finally pulling it open. “If I see you walk out this door, I will put a bullet in you, then I will fuck you after. No matter if you enjoy it or not. No matter how much pain you are in.”

  Nothing.

  I have nothing.

  No words can leave my mouth.

  My jaw is locked tight.

  He huffs again, then leaves.

  Goddamn asshole.

  Managing to sit up farther, I look around the room.

  It appears I’m in a bedroom.

  Is this his bedroom?

  No artwork decorates the walls. Clothes are neatly hung in a walk-in closet. It’s small, but it is full of men’s clothing. Putting my feet to the side, I reach up and touch the back of my head once more with my hands tied. It hurts. The blood is still on my hand from before, but the bleeding has now stopped.

  Did he hit me?

  I hear mumbled talking, and when I stand to check it out, my head goes dizzy. I sit back down and close my eyes for a moment, waiting for the nausea and overwhelming light-headedness to dissipate. And manage to untie my hands.

  I have to take it slow. And I have to find something to protect myself with and hopefully help to get out of this situation.

  I need out.

  Now!

  Standing slower this time, I manage not to feel like I’m going to fall and take a few breaths before I walk to the other door. Pushing it open, there’s a bathroom with only a shower and sink. I wet my face and push my hair back over my shoulders. As I look down at my clothes, I’m pleased to take in that he didn’t touch me when I was out.

  How would that even make me feel?

  Dirty?

  Violated?

  How do I get out of this without lowering myself to his level? The last thing I want to do is let that man touch me.

  I don’t want to be touched anymore.

  Not unless…

  Goddamn! I shake my head again.

  There have to be other men out there who can make me feel as good as Lucas can. I can’t want only Lucas. Not just for the mind-blowing sex, but for…

  Goddammit again! I hate to even think it, but in the back of my mind, I know I like him.

  I like how he cooks for me, and it’s all the things I like. Even if before or after the meal it accompanies something bad.

  It’s like he says, “Hey, sorry I killed someone. Eat,” or, “Oh shit, sorry he touched you. I shot him. Eat.”

  But we all know Lucas doesn’t say sorry.

  Glancing up, there’s a window, and it takes a second to do the math in my head to know I can get through it. And as soon as that realization hits me, I’m climbing onto the sink and reaching for the window, but before I can open it, I hear the outer door open. And I know, I just know, I won’t have enough time to get the screen off and climb out before the bastard finds me. So I step back down, dropping my head on the counter where my feet were as the door opens.

  “You have a visitor.”

  Quickly, my head spins to Malik, who’s standing there, his eyes on me, roaming every inch of my body. The sleaze.

  “I don’t want to see anyone,” I bite back.

  “I don’t care. Now, fucking move before I make you move.”

  Well, okay then. I stand straight and step to walk out the door, but half of his body is in the way. He doesn’t move, I guess, so I have to squeeze past him. He smiles, or should I say more like leers as I do, getting pleasure in the fact that I have to touch his body to get past him. Venomous words wait on the tip of my tongue to spew at him, but I keep them to myself. He’s right behind me as I exit the bedroom, and the first thing I see is Merci.

  She’s on the floor, her body bare as she moves slowly. I run over to her and place my hand on her shoulder. She shivers and flinches back at my touch as if it burns her, so I stand, careful not to hurt her again.

  “She couldn’t quite fuck like you.” Malik’s voice is right near my ear, the heat of his breath fanning across my skin. “But that’s no matter. She can scream like the best of them.”

  “What have you done?” I ask. While looking down at Merci, my hands bawl into fists, and all I want to do is kill him in any which way possible. Her braids—her long, beautiful braids—are cut off near her neck. Her skin is burned in places, and dried tears mark her cheeks.

  “You slept, and I needed someone to play with.” I spin around to face the complete asshole who’s standing right in front of me and take in his face. How he look
s pleased to have shocked me. How his brows raise with unabandoned excitement. How his tongue dashes out to wet his bottom lip. My feet stay still, shocked. Damn! I should know better because this man is fucked up. I don’t want to show him my outrage, but the look of smugness on his face makes me want to slice his face off with a knife. I couldn’t hate this man more if I tried.

  “You are sick, you know that?”

  “Have you told my son the same thing?” He’s trying to taunt me, but two can play that game.

  “You’re jealous of Lucas?” I smirk for no other reason than to piss him off.

  I get it now.

  His lips form a straight line, then he puckers them, biting the bottom one.

  “I am jealous of no one, least of all someone who does my bidding.” He scoffs.

  My feet move fast as I move closer. “But you are. Why, though?”

  Merci groans and I look down. She’s clutching at her stomach, her face now white with pain.

  “I’m not jealous,” he states, his expression unmoving.

  I see cigarette butts near Merci. He was burning her with them.

  What sort of fucked-up fuck does that to another person?

  Turning my attention back to him, I stare as he gets bored with my conversation and walks over to a pack of cigarettes before lighting one and sitting on his sofa.

  “Take a seat. We have things I wish to discuss.”

  Merci groans again, and my chest aches in response. I drop to comfort her, but he hisses from where he sits, bringing my attention back to him.

  “Leave the bitch and sit, or I’ll throw gasoline over her before I burn her with my cigarette.”

  Biting my cheek, I stand and move to sit on the sofa opposite him. He crosses his legs, and his brown eyes lock on mine.