The Twelve Zenati Pt. 00

Authors note: Hello everyone. This story is a spinoff of the Twelve Tables series I wrote a while ago. While there will be cameo appearances of some of the past characters, this series is based on and around a different family and table. As with the past series this story will be heavily based in the BDSM category and the themes found there. If that is not your kink, this won't be the series for you as the first few chapters carry the additional theme of reluctance. I would also like to thank David for coming on board to help with proofreading this series. I hope you enjoy this series because of rather than despite its differences to the previous stories of the Twelve Tables. ~ellie.

*****

The Twelve Zenati: Prologue Part 1

Olivia.

Olivia knew she needed to move again. She knew it with certainty as she thought of the run-down and seemingly irreparable, old boat that was her home; The last remnant of so many childhood memories, both good and bad. She knew she had to move, but it was more wishful thinking than anything she could do in reality as the bills continued to mount up. The less-than-adequate low-cost berth she had been given by the slimy marina manager at least sheltered her a little from the raging storms when they came, and it was far removed from the big. prestigious yachts that shared the docks on the edge of the bay. She placed the new bill for the berth she had retrieved from the post box wall into her bag and sighed. She couldn't afford to move with what she made bar-tending in the waterfront dive where she had managed to find a job.

She was lonely and miserable, and she wondered once again what her life might have become if she hadn't left her family for the walking disaster that was Kevin. He was all kinds of wrong for her, but in a pique of teenage I-know-what-I'm-doing-stop-treating-me-like-a-child, she had left and turned her back on the people who loved her. She had begun travelling the country with a man she believed loved her in the beginning. They were happy, or at least she had thought they were. Things began to go bad when he started to leave her alone most nights to drink, gamble, and squander their meagre savings. Then, when things went bad, he came home to take it out on her. She rationalised and even made excuses for him, rather than admit she had given up her privileged life for a loser, until the money ran out and he found someone else who would look after him.

She had been left with little more than what she had now. A string of debts and a boat that barely moved, as well as self-esteem so shredded that she couldn't face anyone in her old life, or her new life for that matter; not that she had any friends of her own anymore. Bereft, she'd sailed away from him and her hopeless situation in her boat, the one thing Kevin couldn't take from her. Now, however, it didn't move at all, and Olivia despaired of ever saving enough money to get the engine fixed or the sails repaired. She had closed herself off from the world so utterly that she failed to make any new or real connections with anyone in this place where she had landed; broke and in need of a job to pay for the repairs needed to her boat and her life.

She didn't feel she could call anyone from her old life for help. She'd turned her back on them all, including her sisters, who seemed content to toe the family line, except maybe Marcella. She couldn't bear the 'I told you so...' she knew would be coming her way if she called any of them and asked for help, even though Marcella might be sympathetic and would probably be the only person in the world who might help her. Beyond tired, Olivia walked along the docks, making her way home, thinking that she really should try harder to make friends, or at least have some kind of connection to the people here. Not everyone was like Kevin and the friends they had shared. There were a few good people in the world, she was sure of it. She grimaced and acknowledged that at twenty-four she sounded jaded, even to herself.

She could hear voices, which was odd in this part of the big marina. Very few people lived down on this shabby end of the docks. It was more a place for weekend fishermen to keep their dinghies, rather than having to drive them back and forth from homes with garages too small to house them. The voices became louder, and she could hear the distinctly male tones and harsh edges of an argument. She could see their outlines clearer now and slowed her walk. She would have to pass them to get to her boat, and she had no wish to become involved in whatever shadowy business they were up to down here. 'Drugs?' She wondered, idly. She couldn't think of anything else that would bring strangers down to the largely-abandoned outer docks of the marina.

Olivia was close enough to be able to make out more than just the outlines of the men in the group and decided that ignoring them was the best way to get home; so she kept her head down and kept walking at a slow, nonthreatening pace, hoping that they would see her and stop their argument until she had passed by. The men fell momentarily silent, and she looked up, believing they had stopped for her benefit, having seen her approach. She prepared to pass them with a small acknowledgement of her thanks, but she stared with horror as a gun went off, spraying brains and skull into the water, and the man who had been shot toppled backwards off the end of the dock.

A scream pierced the air immediately following the gunshot and, realising it was her own scream, she clapped a hand to her mouth and stared wildly at the two remaining men who advanced on her. Shit, what had she done? What had she seen? She wasn't some stupid little girl. She should have known better. They were obviously up to no good. Fuck! She turned and ran back the way she had come and rounded a curve in the path near a small run-down kiosk and straight into the broad chest of a third man.

"Hurry! Come with me!" he said in a hushed voice before she could scream again, and she looked back over her shoulder at the two advancing men who still held guns and were silently pursuing her. Letting the man guide her, she ran and squealed when she heard gunfire behind her.

'Fuck! They were shooting at her!' Her brain screamed in panic, as the stranger ran faster, dragging her with him to a dark car parked just out of sight at the end of the road near the dock. Her panicked mind didn't even register the danger of getting into a car with a perfect stranger. She just wanted to be away from the men with the guns, who continued to shoot at the car she had been bundled into when they sped off.

Her boat and her life, as dismal as it was, disappeared behind her, and her panic changed direction. She should call the police, but she had no idea if the man beside her, driving with the confidence of a race car driver, was friend or foe. Certainly, he had saved her life, but she had no idea who he was or what he wanted.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For saving me."

"Yeah... sure," he growled, obviously anxious, or angry, or both, and driving so fast that he didn't dare take his eyes off the road.

"Where are we going? To the police station?" she asked, in a high overly-anxious voice.

"No, home," he said unequivocally. When he heard her gasp he qualified, "My home."

"What?" she blurted. "No! Just let me out anywhere here!" She grabbed the handle of the door, but realised that if she jumped at this speed she would die immediately. She pulled her phone from her bag, intending to call the police.

"No!" His hand shot out, snatching the phone from her hands and glancing down to ensure she hadn't put through her call. "I'll explain once we're home and you are safe. Or would you like those men to find you?" His voice was harsh, jolting her back to the reality of what she had just witnessed.

Once again, Olivia looked out of the window at the dark night and the lack of any traffic impeding the stranger's speed. She kept her hand on the door handle, deciding which fate would be worse. Injury and possible death from jumping, or ending up at a stranger's home and at his mercy, or facing the men she had seen murder a man. She heard the door locks snap into place and realised the stranger had just taken one option from her. It had been a losing bet, either way, she thought morosely, and sat back in her seat, her mind reeling and her wavering thoughts scattered. 'Fight or flight?' she asked herself over and over again, resigning herself to the probability that she was going to die tonight. Death mightn't be the worst thing, it wasn't like she had a lot to live for.

Olivia wasn't a fighter, but neither was she brave enough to jump from a speeding car, even if she could, and now she had no phone. She was at the mercy of this stranger as soon as she had run with him, she realised and sighed. Just when she thought her life couldn't get any worse. The stranger echoed her sigh, and she glanced over at him. His dark eyes gazed back as if trying to penetrate her mind and she felt a sense of foreboding. They were almost menacing as he grimaced and focused back on the road.

"We can't go to the police; The organisation that those guys belong to have more than a few cops on their payroll, and you could land in even more trouble than you are now," he said in a deep, serious voice, making her gasp. "That murder you just witnessed was carried out by a very powerful criminal organisation, the sort that you just don't cross. Even the police can't stand up to them at this point. That's why I'm taking you to my home. You will be safe there. It's secluded and secure. You have to trust me on this."

"Trust you? I don't even know you!" Panic made Olivia's voice high-pitched and thready. She knew that she had no choice at this point, and, if what he said was true, then he really was trying to help her, and she would be stupid to push away the one person who was offering her the help she needed. Hadn't she just been lamenting the lack of help she had in her life? And here was a man willing to save her from some ruthless criminal organisation. She turned her face to the road, her thoughts swirling. "I guess I have no choice," she whispered and released her hold on the door handle, massaging her hand after realising just how hard she had been gripping it. He glanced at her but said nothing else as he continued to speed through the dark night towards the outskirts of the city.

Large iron gates opened before the car and they drove up a long driveway, pulling up in front of one of the largest houses she had ever seen. She looked again at the stranger. She didn't recognise him or even know his name. Such had been her panic in their getaway that it hadn't even occurred to her to ask at the time. Before she could gather her thoughts enough to speak, he stepped out of the car and walked around to her side. She noted a heavy-set man had opened the front door of the mansion and stood to wait for them at the top of a short flight of stairs that made the already-grand entrance look grander. 'This was it,' Olivia thought, looking around as he helped her from the car: 'fight or flight time.' She couldn't go so willingly, like a lamb to the slaughter, could she? She looked up and found the stranger's dark, penetrating gaze on her again and shivered.

Once again, she reminded herself that she wasn't much of a fighter, and he was obviously a man who knew how to take care of himself. She doubted she could make it over the gates before he caught her again, if she chose flight. Olivia was trapped. She had been trapped the moment she had seen what had happened on the dock. Nothing in her life was ever going to be the same again, and, as much as she hated the life she had been living, at least it was her life, and she had choices. Right now, she knew she had none. So, lamb to the slaughter she was, she admitted, and felt tears burn behind her eyes as she walked slowly up the stairs and into the grand house and, she thought, her impending doom.

She got a better look at the stranger once inside, tall and muscular and very well dressed for someone just hanging around the docks. Memory swirled and struck again as she pictured the shooting and the two men who had heard her scream and come after her. The shock of the evening's events settled heavily on her and dizziness swept over her, making her unsteady on her feet. Tears began to course down her cheeks, and she wished she could just wake up from this nightmare. The floor seemed somehow closer now, and she could feel his big hands supporting her. Then everything went black.

*****

Remy looked down at the girl in his arms and pondered her for a few moments. Kairos, his right-hand man, stepped forward to help him by picking up the young woman, but Remy waved him away, making the man raise his eyebrow. Remy picked her up himself and, giving Kairos a quick, meaningful look towards the front door and his car; he walked to the guest suite next to his own suite of rooms on the second floor. It had been some time since anyone had stayed in this suite, and, as he lay her carefully on the bed, he wondered if he had lost his mind.

With great care, he removed her shoes and gently tugged down the black jeans, to expose her long, slim legs. He looked up to ensure she was still out cold before running a hand lightly up her calf and thigh to her hip, and felt his cock stir at the feel of her. He hadn't been sure why he had saved her at the time, exposing himself after arriving just in time to see his brother fall and to be able to do nothing about it. He supposed that he had thought to deny them the witness, to keep her as a threat if they moved against him directly. Anyone who knew him knew that getting to him was wishful thinking. He was Remington Royce, after all, and his reputation was well-deserved. That wasn't the only reason he had brought her here, and he looked at her, wondering if she had been planted on the private beach in front of his home several weeks ago specifically to get to him.

He had been just as surprised as she was by what they had seen. His brother, who he had trusted not to betray him, had been talking with two of men he knew to be plotting against him, and it had momentarily rendered him immobile. He had been there to see where exactly this girl was living. Very few people seemed to know of her existence. She seemed to have no friends, and, from her work colleagues, the most information he could get was that she was a loner, no family or friends, and that she lived on a run-down boat somewhere on the edge of the marina, or at least that's what her employee details said. Unable to get an exact location on her, he had followed her. Stalked her, if he was honest, and had been since he first saw her.

He swept the young woman's hair away from her face and looked at her. In this restful state, she was quite stunning, and a small smile tilted his mouth. He had first seen her weeks ago. She had been caught in a rip that had dragged her up the coastline, and she had fought to get to shore before staggering onto the private beach in front of his home. It wasn't often that swimmers were seen on this stretch of the coast, and he had watched curiously as she had emerged from the water, alerted by his security defenses. The small pale-pink bikini made her seem almost nude as she emerged from the water like a siren. She had swept her long thick hair forward over one shoulder and wrung it out like a dishcloth, before flicking it back and collapsing to the sand to rest.

Curious, Remy had donned running shoes and set out to get a closer look at the siren-like woman. Seeing him approach, however, she had gotten to her feet and quickly re-entered the water and, staying close to the shoreline this time, she had swum away. Penalties for invading private beaches were not overly harsh, especially when caught in a rip like she was, but she seemed worried enough to flee discovery, so he had let her go.

He'd used the CCTV footage of the beach in front of his house to discover who she was through a friend in law enforcement. Her driver's license was obviously old and not up-to-date, citing an address in another state, but he at least had a name to go with the image of her, and it was a name he knew well. He also had a possible place of work. O'Shae's was a rundown dive, and he wondered again about why, with her family connections, she would work in such a place? He tracked her down there and made discreet inquiries. He wondered, not for the first time, if she was hiding from someone, or possibly even her family. She certainly hadn't made herself easy to find or get to know. She intrigued him, and if she was connected to the family he knew by that name then he may be able to use her to achieve an even more formidable reputation.

The siren he had seen on his beach, and whose lithe form he had watched multiple times on the footage from the day she washed up on his beach, was even lovelier up close. Her body looked just as delicious in the figure-hugging jeans and tight shirt, but her thick multi-hued hair had been hidden by the water's darkness as she had climbed from the sea, and now he could see that it detracted from her natural beauty. A good hair stylist could fix that, however, and with some decent clothes, he imagined that she would be lovely to behold, and exactly the type of woman he had been looking for. He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek and found she didn't even flinch. The shock of seeing the murder, coupled with her exhaustion from pulling a twelve-hour shift, meant that she wouldn't wake until morning, and that should give him the time he needed to deal with what they had seen.

Kairos cleared his throat from the bedroom door, indicating that he had something urgent to speak about, and Remy rose to settle the comforter over the sleeping girl. This hadn't gone as he had planned. There was no slow seduction and power games to make her his. This had gone in a direction that he couldn't have guessed at, and he had to know if his now-dead brother had betrayed him, or been involved in an unsanctioned business deal that he had done with the wrong people.

He left the room, closing the door quietly, and indicated to Kairos that they should move down to his office without saying a word. Once there, in the secure space, he told Kairos exactly what he had seen and what had happened to make him bring the woman home with him.

"She knows nothing about who I am, and I'd like to keep it that way. Keep her away from anything related to family business. She is scared enough as it is," he instructed. "Once she is mine, then it won't matter what she knows."

"Alright. What do we do about Maddox then?" Kairos asked. thinking that the dead man and his connection to Remy would be a problem that they didn't need at the moment, especially if he wanted to protect the woman who slept soundly upstairs from those who would want to silence her.

"Put Arnie and his team on it. Find out why they killed Maddox and broke the truce. If it's a war they want, then that's what they'll get," Remy said, shaking his head. He couldn't imagine his brother would betray him in any way, but he couldn't account for why he was now dead either. It bothered him more than he was willing to let on, and he was pretty determined to get to the bottom of it. He would use only those people he trusted implicitly and tell no one that Olivia was here with him. He just hoped that the killers hadn't got a good look at him or the car as he had sped her away from them.

"Not one mention of the girl, or that she saw anything at all, leaves this room," Remy said abruptly into the silence, knowing he didn't need to say it. "As far as anyone is concerned, she is just the latest woman to grace my bed."

"Except that she's not in your bed," Kairos chuckled.

"Not yet," Remy grinned in return.